#peaches has opinions

[peaches2217]

What she says: I’m fine

What she means: In Kung Fu Panda fanworks, Tigress is often portrayed as a violent, temperamental tomboy while Viper is portrayed as demure and polite and a full-blown girly-girl. However, canon shows that Tigress is actually calm and slow to anger unless something really agitates her (such as being passed up for a position she’s been training HER ENTIRE LIFE for in favor of a fanboy who struggles to even climb the stairs), and while her fighting style is aggressive and her personality is curt, her body language is often reserved and even traditionally feminine. Then there’s Viper, whose immediate response to the problem of a building full of cannons AND LIVING, BREATHING PEOPLE MANNING THEM is “We bring down the building!” with the most gleeful tone and the biggest smile on her face, and who canonically entered the world of kung fu because a giant warrior injured her father and her response was essentially “Square up, bitch.” She’s a sweetheart and a peacemaker, make no mistake, but this girl loves a good fight. There’s so much nuance to each character, but they’re often stripped down to “the tomboy and the girly-girl.” Why? In this essay I will

[peaches2217]

“I feel like peaches2217 would have a FIELD DAY with this!” Friendo, you have never been more correct in your life.

Mario would spend every second of free time crafting for their baby. He wants to surprise Peach with a nursery, fully stocked and ready to go! The first thing he builds is a crib, simple but sturdy with little mushroom reliefs. Then he makes a rocking chair with delicate designs and fashions the softest cushions he can find to the seat and back. Then he makes a changing table with compartments for storing diapers and wipes and all that good stuff, then a short bookshelf because of course they’ll want to have plenty of stories on hand to read to the baby, then a cheerful toy box, and of course there’s gotta be toys to put in that toy box— he goes above and beyond (and, some might argue, overboard), and by the time he unveils it all to Peach, she’s so overwhelmed with love and gratitude (and hormones, but mostly love and gratitude) that she’s inconsolable. So Mario plops down in the rocking chair and sits her in his lap and holds her close until she can compose herself again. 😂🥹

Anon you’re a fucking genius.

The thought of Mario being a skilled carpenter and making things for the people he loves is so sweet! Now I'm imagining him building a crib for when him and Peach are expecting, or making little wooden toys for his kids, or any of the kids living in the Mushroom Kindom! He's such a sweet guy like that. 😭

Awww he absolutely would, omg. 🥹💖

First of all, Mario gaining that Santa Claus reputation by offering children presents is so him, I can see that perfectly! 😄👌

And him building things while waiting to meet his own child!! 😭 YESSS. 💗 I don't often talk about the whole family dimension of Mario and Peach's relationship (both because it's so far into the future in my version and because I don't usually include ocs in my work), but this is everything to me and I adore the idea. 🥺🧸

[mrmeepsmadmind]

bee's protective nature over anyone persists even as a ghost & i think he sometimes forgets or doesn't care that only star can see him (sadly no touch tho) & will start shouting & angrily try standing between people who are mad at starscream even tho he can't be seen, he just wants to try & help anyways bcs STOP IT >:(!! BE NICE !!!! cried the ghost no one can hear or see except for the poor guy getting yelled at & trying to overhear the conversation over bee's frantic rebuttals while trying to discreetly let bee know it's ok while ALSO trying not to look Insane .

continued attempt at a 4am drawn doodle comic below

i might draw detailed later but yeah i just wanted to give yall this headcanon bcs i love starbee so much... the nagging wives finally finding their true loves... another nagging wife.

' you .. do know only i can hear and see you, unfortunately, right? or are you starting to go loopy, because i don't need another insane figure haunting me. I have enough already, as you can try and fail to imagine, little bee . '

' trust me, im Well aware .. of everything you just said . .. but i just. i couldn't just Stand there and do Nothing while someone talked to you like You were Nothing . that's not the autobot way. that's not- my way . '

' . . . '

[asterdust]

i need kan to bring down that capitalist family sorry home i support women's rights and wrongs !!!

[sodajerking]

Calpico white peach

Just a quick one. I was in t&t mart looking for a different beverage (tba) and saw one of these which were suggested to me by @annoyingalchemist so I figured I'd give it a try.

They're actually under the umbrella of Asahi who make my favorite Japanese lager as well as my favorite shelf stable iced coffee (highly recommended my yours truly)

I've seen these around but never thought to try them because they're usually next to milkis which are a similar product (dry milk/lactic acid containing soda) that are smaller and carbonated which I prefer.

I tried the peach one because peaches make me giggle and squee ☺️

It wasn't bad. The milk gives it a creaminess and there's a stronger yakult-y sourness to it compared to milkis but I've had stronger yakult beverages before and I found the sourness lacking slightly. The peach flavour was also quite artificial tasting; I didn't see aspartame on the ingredients list but it's that kind of flavour which I wasn't a fan of.

That said it was refreshing. I'm willing to consider that maybe I was setting myself up for a more artificial tasting experience when I went for the peach so I think I will try some of the other flavours, although I likely will not make any new post about them unless i have a lot to say.

Solid C+

[peaches2217]

“Don’t you hate pineapple?” Peach asks.

“Yes.” Daisy shudders as she takes another bite. “But I love annoying your little hero even more.”

In the background, Mario is letting lose every expletive in the Italian language. Luigi’s face is buried in his hands, though whether he’s more ashamed of Mario’s behavior or Daisy’s desecration of a good pizza is up in the air. All is right with the world.

Daisy orders pineapple on pizza just to piss off Mario

[delightfuldevin]

Been seein some rather cold takes about Daisy lately…

I’ve seen some people say that she has no personality outside of fanon, but that’s just not true. There is a very very common misconception among the fandom (at least that I’ve noticed) that if a character doesn’t appear in a “mainline” game, then they have no personality. But I’d argue that the spinoffs actually offer waaaaay more in terms of looking into character personalities. And no, I’m not talking about the RPGs ala M&L and Paper Mario as those are obviously full of personality (and Daisy isn’t in those). I’m talking about the Party, Kart, Tennis, and other sports games.

Yes, Daisy hasn’t appeared in any mainline game since her debut, but she’s been in nearly every sports game and her traits, stats, abilities, victory/loss animations, and various other tiny details add up to her personality. The fact that she’s nearly always yelling or just speaking really loud in general (noticeably more than any other character), the fact that she constantly feels a need to say her name and make herself known, how she loves flowers and considers even a small patch of flowers worth protecting, how she’s easily bored by tasks that don’t excite her and isn’t so reliable for them. She tends to jump around a lot, and spin and dance around when she’s excited! She’s apparently a rather fast runner and that is considered her specialty! These are all traits that are displayed in the spinoffs, and there’s probably soooo many more that I just can’t remember right now.

Now, I do think her tomboyish nature is probably fanon, as I don’t really remember seeing anything to show that she acts that way in the games. I think people probably think she’s tomboyish due to how loud and energetic she is. But hey, there’s plenty of fanon for just about any character from any fandom out there. And what’s so wrong with that? Isn’t the whole point of making fanworks to expand on the framework already provided by canon? If we want to stick to what’s actually “canon” then nearly everything the fandom has created would have to be tossed, because there really isn’t much to work with. Fanworks and fandoms thrive on what fans can create based on the canon work, not just sticking to it perfectly.

It’s fine if you think the “fanon” Daisy outshines the “canon” Daisy and you dislike that. But to say that she has no personality aside from fanon interpretations just tells me that you have a very narrow idea of what counts as “canon” in an already rather simplistic world. The Mario games are very simple and straightforward without much consistent lore that actually makes sense cohesively, but the characters are what keep everything tied together despite that. The characters are nearly always consistent, and that includes Daisy. Even when the setting is completely different and some random new villain shows up with some random new power source to steal or species to torment, our same well-known lovable characters will be the center of the story and that’s what makes it fun!

[sableflynn]

I've been replaying Paper Mario n64 and it's wild how Peach in this game is so clearly the blueprint for Felicia and in general my preferred type of female captive whumpee. hear me out... trapped in a superficially comfortable place but with no freedom, no chance of escape, at the mercy of her captor. sneaking out every chance she gets to try to gather information to share with her friends outside in hope of rescue. lying to her captor and manipulating him however she can to make her life easier and make rescue more likely. reading her captor's secret diary and playing trivia games with his underlings and baking cakes. she's truly everything. formative influence for sure.

[dangerdragoncat]

Why is clef so mad in the Mario drawing 😭

It’s up to your interpretation to why he’s a lil grumpy!

However personally to me it’s probably because he got convinced to become a cutesy sentient hallucinative mushroom!

Look at his stupid smile. Look at his squish. Tell me that you wouldn’t consume his cheeks. Look how fucking happy and optimistic it is despite its world literally burning around him.

Its exactly the cutest shit that Clef would probably despise.

[hiya-im-mary]

After watching all the new episodes past the “ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT” special…I really gotta wonder-

How’s Peach Gonna fare? You know,once she gets out!! Knowing her characterisation in SMG4…I bet you she’ll be VERY mad-

I’ve skimmed the episodes for the little scene we get of Peach,and she seems to be building her way up from the fleshy keyboard nightmare-scape that her castle became-

I…think this might end up being building up to a new arc maybe?? Or a new episode!!

Either way,I just can’t wait until she gets out >:0

[peaches2217]

We as a society need to lean into Mario and Peach’s noblewoman-and-knight dynamic way more than we presently are.

The tenderness! The chivalry! The elegant nobility eased by comfortable familiarity! These two are the living embodiment of all those fancy paintings of 13th century knights and their lovers and I for one want more.

[foxmulderautism]

me 🤝 felix moran not immune to the sour cream and chives chips on sale

[thekinslayed]

Thou Shalt Not Covet

summary | Aemond is displeased to find his wife alone with his drunken brother.

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader, unrequited aegon ii targaryen x reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral sex (f), p in v sex, voyeurism, masturbation (m), angst, possessive aemond, aegon is kinda pathetic, Everyone Needs To Chill

wordcount | 5.8k

note | i owe aeg a written apology for this one, im sorry pooks </3 the idea for this came in a peach bellini-induced dream

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(dividers by @targaryen-dynasty)

It was nearing the hour of the bat, you had been sitting on your vanity chair, brushing your long locks when you heard the door to yours and Aemond’s marital chambers open. You perked up at the sound, turning with a smile on your face to greet your lord husband. He had been called away to the Tower of the Hand as soon as supper had ended, dealing with urgent matters of the realm while the king was nowhere to be seen. You jumped when the man standing in your room was not Aemond, but your good brother-in-law, Aegon. His cheeks were flushed, his stance wobbly, no doubt from the amount of wine he had consumed tonight. 

“Aegon!” you exclaimed. You quickly reached for your robe, covering your nightgown-clad figure to save yourself some modesty. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?”

The inebriated king jumped at the sight of you and the sound of his name. “Gods be good,” he said while steadying himself. He didn’t feel great, and the sight of you in your nightgown did nothing to ease his disorientation. He leaned a hand against the doorframe, rubbing a hand across his warm face, greeting you, “Sister.”

“Is something wrong, my king?” you asked, concerned with the faraway look in his eyes. You kept your distance still, wary of his grace’s well-known habits when deep in his cups. “If you are looking for Aemond, I am afraid he is still caught up in that meeting with your grandsire.”

“I just needed to get out, staying in these walls has given my mind no reprieve,” Aegon said with what you felt was an honest answer. He let out a heavy sigh, the corner of his lips dipping into a small frown.  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to ask Aemond about his opinion on something important.”

Aegon could scarcely remember the steps he had taken that lead him to your chambers, the small details of what he needed to say held in the slippery grip of his drunken stupor. The sting from his mother's hand on his cheek and the stabbing tone of her voice led him away from his seat in the council table, where he was needed, and into the tunnels that lead to the familiar path of his refuge. With a cup of ale in his hand and the boisterous ruckus of the alehouse, the king had forged himself a plan.

A ship to depart from the Bay by dawn. Essos. A crown for Aemond.

You were aware of Aegon being at the receiving end of his mother’s ire once more, no doubt escaping to his cups after their fight that had echoed through the halls of the Keep. You approached his leaning figure, coming to stand by the settee, patting down the cushions to invite him in. 

“Why don’t you sit? Aemond might be back in a few, and you look like the slightest poke would send your face to the mud, brother,” you offered. Though your brother-in-law was far from being as proper and honorable as your lord husband, you worried for him. Aegon wasn’t perfect, yet it would be hard to deny that he has struggled to find his place in the family. You have seen the gloom that always clouded his purple orbs, one he had tried to hide when he had sat the Iron Throne and the Conqueror’s crown was placed upon his head.

Aegon did as he was told, sinking into the seat with a heavy thud and a groan. Silence encompassed the room for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling in the gaps between you and the king. He could feel himself sobering up fast, the fact that he was sitting with his brother’s wife, his beautiful wife, while Aemond was away had him flustered, his senses fighting through the cloudy haze of the liquor in his system.

“Your husband,” he managed, “is he really as praiseworthy as mother makes him out to be?” Aegon queried, his tone casual and light. You approached the seat across from him, pulling your robe tighter around your figure as you sat down.

“What do you think? He’s your brother. You have known what he is like much longer than I,” you responded, smiling at him softly. Your head tilted ever so slightly when you studied the elder Targaryen before you, how his plump cheeks were flushed and the skin under his eyes held perpetual lines of exhaustion. Aegon let out a low hum, twisting his lips while he stared into the fire. 

“Aemond has always been a good man. A bit of a brute, but a good man,” Aegon said, nodding, but then paused to consider his words. “I suppose I want to know…is he kind to you?”

“The most kind,” you smiled bashfully. The thoughts of your lord husband always brought about a warmth that painted your cheeks, especially the ones when his icy cold demeanor always melted around you, an occurrence he said was only possible with your power. A dreamy sigh left your lips as you longed to have him by your side at that moment, still eagerly awaiting his return from his duties. You turned to meet Aegon’s gaze, “I know it is hard to believe, but he is so good to me, your brother. I never expected our marriage to turn out this way. So… wonderful.”

A smile, slight at first, appeared on Aegon’s lips at the sight of your blissful face, whispering a small ‘good’, before returning his gaze to the hearth. Another beat of silence passed you before you spoke up once more. 

“And you and Helaena? Is everything alright?” You asked, inquiring about the state of Aegon and his sister-wife, to which Aegon only gave a small shrug.

 “You know Helaena, I never know how she feels about anything,” he said with a rueful smile on his lips. You frowned at his words, feeling bad with how quickly his smile dropped once he finished speaking.

“Helaena, she…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. “She is so special. She’s not like the rest of us. She is bestowed with gifts that I don’t think any of us truly understand, nor can she fully carry the weight of. She needs someone to carry that weight with her, Aegon. I know you try for her, but it all just requires time. Give her time to open up to you, brother. Don’t force it out of her,” you advised. The king’s eyes sparkled when they stared at you while you spoke, attentive and awake. The corner of his plump lips quirked up at your words, breathing out a huff.

​​“She does seem fragile, doesn’t she?” Aegon said. You watched as he fiddled with his thumbs, a twinge in your heart at the sight of him. It was no secret the king and queen had an unconventional relationship, with them being brother and sister, coupled with their utterly contrasting personalities. Even with children, Aegon and Helaena had never found their rhythm with each other, and the gaps in their marriage were only intensified whenever it was held in contrast to yours and Aemond’s marriage.

“How do you put up with his moods? Aemond, I mean,” Aegon suddenly asked with a small grin, eager to change the subject. “He’s not a pleasant man when he’s in a temper, to put it mildly.”

The surprise on your face was evident as the conversation shifted back to you, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his words. 

“Oh, believe me, I have tried many ways to deal with that fiery temper of his,” you laughed along with Aegon. “I am no dragon, I find no use in fighting fire with fire, though it has taken a bit of creativity to tame that temper of his.” 

A suggestive glint in your eyes twinkled as you spoke, giggling when Aegon let out a boisterous laugh in understanding. He was visibly surprised by his good sister’s candor, one he had not something he had expected out of you.

“And I bet you’ve been successful at it too, haven’t you?” he asked, cackling when you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Quite a bit, yes!” you agreed, a proud smile on your lips. Aegon shook his head at you, his shoulders bouncing with the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

The ease that flowed between both of you took Aegon by surprise. If only he could have more moments with you like this, perhaps he’d be a better man, a better king, even. No wonder Aemond had been so taken with you. His brooding brother had taken on a lightness to him since you had entered his life, one Aegon had first thought was quite bizarre to see in the one-eyed prince at first, but now he understood. You held the power to make any man change his ways with a single smile.

“Gods be good. That man is lucky to have you.”

Your mischievous smile turned into one of fondness at the king’s words, your longing for your lord husband growing all the more the longer he was missing from your side. 

“No luckier than I to have him as my husband,” you responded, earning a low hum from the king. Large round eyes, ones he bore from his mother, turned to look at you, glimmering against the warm glow from the fireplace. You fiddled with your fingers with uncertainty when you caught the change in his gaze, the warmth of his amethyst orbs turning to that of hidden longing. You knew this wasn’t because of love for you, it couldn’t be. You assumed the king merely craved the stability and trust that yours and Aemond’s marriage had, but you couldn’t deny the way he looked at you at times, a look almost too similar to that your husband held for you. 

It was best to probably dismiss your brother-in-law for the sake of being proper, but you just didn’t have it in you to leave him on his own for the night, not when the murky sorrow returned to his eyes, replacing the light your presence had stoked. You cleared your throat, the air in the room suddenly turning prickly. 

“I’m sorry that Aemond is taking so long. Why don’t you lay for a bit while you wait, brother? The daybed is quite comfortable,” you offered. Aegon instantly refused, not wanting to impose in your own chambers.

“No, no, I should go. I will be alright, princess,” he reassured, though the way your face held uncertainty made him falter. There was no doubt anyone who would come upon him in the halls would immediately know of his whereabouts, with his messy silver tresses, half-open doublet, and the smell of cheap mead that he exuded. Hells, when did he lose one of his rings?

You managed to convince him to settle by the daybed, promising to wake him upon Aemond’s return. It took little effort for him to fall asleep, the liquor in his system quickly submitting him to the depths of slumber. You fetched some furs to drape over his sleeping figure, soft snores resonating from the daybed. A sigh left your lips at the state of the elder Targaryen, worried about how he had been coping with the weight of the crown upon his shoulders.

 You were on your side of the bed, engrossed in your reading when your husband finally returned from his duties. You looked at Aemond in worry when he eyed his brother’s sleeping figure, his features immediately merging into one of anger and confusion after finding his wife and his brother all alone at night. 

“What the hell is he doing in our chamber?” He asked, his tone harsh. 

“Aemond..” you said softly, putting away your book before rising to approach him. Your arms came up to caress his biceps, soothing him. “He came looking for you, husband. Your brother is troubled, he waited for your return to talk to you about it,” you explained, hoping your husband would see reason and put away his anger, though his furrowed brows let you know that you shouldn’t get too hopeful. 

“I don’t care what he was looking for. King or not, he should know better than to intrude on my wife,” Aemond spat, his anger still not waning while his voice rose. He was about to say more when you squeezed his biceps, a frown on your features. His own immediately softened, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be around him when he’s like this.” 

“I know, I know. But I was worried for him. I couldn’t just turn him away, my love,” you explained. Your hands drifted down to take hold of his fisted palms, making him unclench to let you take his hands in yours. “I should have made you aware of his being here. He needed someone to talk to, husband. I told him to lie down while he waited for you, but I fear the wine has gotten the best of him,” you pressed kisses to your husband’s wrists, placing his calloused palms to cup your face. Your eyes met his good one as it studied you, your feet taking a small step closer to his warmth.

“Was there anything he told you?” Aemond asked. You both looked at his sleeping figure. Aegon's snores had stopped, but he still lay peacefully asleep on your daybed. 

“He asked about our wellbeing but that was about it.” You half-lied. You thought it best to keep your conversation with the elder Targaryen between yourselves, something only you understood. 

Aemond’s apprehension of having his brother around his wife was something he did not hide, well aware of his hidden desire and admiration for his lady. The thought of you and Aegon spending time alone in your marital chambers while he was away took all of him not to strangle his sleeping brother if it weren’t for your soft presence. He could laugh at the incredulity of the circumstances, his brother having clearly wasted no time to seize the opportunity in his absence. 

The one-eyed prince stepped away from your grasp, turning away to rid himself of his day clothes. You bit your lip anxiously as he continued to spare glares at his slumbering brother. You approached him once more, standing in front of him. Your hands caressed his chest while he pulled you in by your waist, craving your touch after hours of being away. You planted a small kiss on his cheek for comfort, and another one on his lips. 

“I think it best for you to talk to him, my love. You both understand each other the best, after all,” you said softly. Your husband let out another angry sigh despite your kisses. How sweet you were, nothing but goodness in the fibers of your being. In his heart of hearts, he wished it weren’t so, that this kindness was only reserved for him, your lord husband, that way he would be saved from the many who feel smitten by your charms, his own brother for one. 

“I have no wish to even look at him,” Aemond snapped, looking away from you. He shook his head, knowing what he wanted to say, but being unable to bring himself to do it. “I just don’t like it. He looks at you, covets you.”

“Aemond..” you started, but you sighed as your husband gave you a warning look. “I swear to you, husband. He merely came with the intent to talk to you tonight. He was proper with me,” you promised, cupping his face in trying to reassure him, but his sharp jaw had stayed clenched. Your face dropped, frowning when he still refused to look at you.

“Darling,” you beckoned. You dipped your head to meet his gaze, a silent plea of understanding in your countenance when you stared at each other. You watched Aemond study your face with a cold glint. Seeing your husband still aggravated by your current situation, you knew you had to do something to calm him, lest he did something irrational to the sleeping king in your midst.

Tentatively, you pressed your lips against his in a kiss. You felt him soften ever so slightly, deepening the kiss when his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against your husband’s, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, his tone still hardened.

“Missed you,” you mumbled against his lips, kissing him once more. It was quick to escalate, with Aemond taking the lead. His tongue prodded its way into your mouth, exploring your warm cavern while a whine emitted deep from your throat at your husband’s ministrations. You felt his hands wander down to your waist to settle on her arse with a firm squeeze. Breathless you pulled away, though your husband’s firm grip bid you to stay pressed against his chest. 

“I do not want this happening again,” he said quietly, a hint of anger still in his voice. His jealousy flared, a heat rising in his head that inhibited him to think clearly. It was irrational, and he hated that it was so, but he did not know how to let it go. “You are my wife,” Aemond practically growled.

You nodded at him obediently, whispering, “I am all yours, Aemond. Always,” before surging forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” the prince said as the kiss broke. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

You had barely reciprocated the words before Aemond was kissing you again, this time more urgent and passionate as you grew more heated. His lips traveled to your neck, sucking and kissing while his hands gripped your behind. You had almost let your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure when you barely remembered that Aegon still lay asleep in your chambers. 

“Darling… Your brother….” you trailed off, barely getting the words out while your husband pressed his growing stiffness into your center. “He is still sleeping there, my love.”

“Let him watch if he wants. It’s what he does anyway,” your husband said, his voice coming out with barely any volume to it with his face still pressed into your neck. He had enough for the moment, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

“Aemond,” you warned, an unsure glint in your eye. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of sick power play your husband was doing to assert his possession over his wife to his brother, but you were still apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And yet, the heat that pooled in your center coupled with the look the silver-haired man held before you was making your rationality jump out the window. 

The longer you made your husband wait, the more you saw his temper rise again. You quickly kissed him once more, letting your lord husband do whatever he wanted for the night.  You pushed the idea of being intimate while Aegon lay asleep and risked being watched when he woke into the back of your mind, focusing on her and Aemond alone. It would be a lie to say the idea of getting caught and watched didn’t excite you at all. The idea of your prince asserting his possession over you in front of another man made you feel heated, wanted, and highly desirable. After all, Aegon was fully asleep anyway. 

Time to get creative.

Aegon was in fact, not asleep. He had woken up the moment Aemond returned, but continued to lay with his eyes closed upon hearing his brother’s anger at his intrusion. He knew if he were to awaken there was a good chance of a big fight breaking out between them, perhaps of Aemond even killing him right then and there. 

And so, he continued to pretend to be asleep while he listened to Aemond’s rage and his wife’s attempts to soothe him. Even with just listening, the elder could tell how easily the lady’s soft demeanor warmed his brother’s cold one. His heart thumped wildly against his chest, forcing his eyes to remain shut.

Amidst hushed whispers, his ears perked up in curiosity when he heard a wet smacking, then another, and then more. Hushed whispers again, and then the sound of kissing continued once more. From where the daybed was situated in their chambers, He only needed to crane his neck slightly to the side and crack his eyes open just a hair to see you and Aemond in a passionate embrace. Despite the darkness brought about by the dying embers of the hearth, he could still see how his brother’s hand wandered, squeezing and caressing his wife. He saw how you kissed him with such passion, one he was unsure any lady had ever done with him. Jealousy burned within him, while heat pooled in his chest at the sight of the two lovers. He was a fool to continue to listen, to witness what was before him, but Aegon couldn’t find the strength to look away. What the king wouldn’t give for her to be doing that to him, to hold her in his arms. He was sickened with desire.

The younger prince led you to bed, where he bunched up your nightgown to your hips before descending his lips upon your core. Aemond had an inkling that his brother would awaken, a sick desire to show the king what was his overwhelmed him. Lost in the depths of the mindnumbing pleasure that devoured your wit, you were none the wiser with your husband’s little game. He was wary enough to cover your bareness with his body, though the sweet sounds emanating from your lips were hard to stifle. Still, your husband had no complaints. 

Your husband was like a man starved, devouring your sweet ambrosia like it was the water that gave him life. You bit back the mewls that threatened to escape your mouth, though your efforts were futile as they only grew in volume with your impending release.

“Aemond, the curtain,” you mumbled before a moan cut off your words. You reached out to the curtain hanging from your bedpost, urging your husband to cover you for the sake of decency. If he even heard your word, he paid them no mind while he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His nose nuzzled against your pearl, the sparks of pleasure shooting from your nub sending you into a dizzying haze. Your release washed over you like the tide, and you had barely been granted a moment of reprieve to see if Aegon had been disturbed before your husband had freed his cock, sparing no second and breaching your walls. 

You threw your head back into the feather mattress, a breathless whine escaping your lips as he rutted into you at an unforgiving pace. Your hands clung onto your husband’s shoulders while you willed yourself to stay mindful of the noise, yet you couldn’t help the soft whines of your husband’s name that left your lips, much to the one-eyed prince’s delight. 

Aegon’s cock strained painfully in his breeches at the sweet sounds you were making for his brother. His hand twitched to rub at his bulge, and he subtly covered his lap with a cushion to pleasure himself. From his view, he was only granted the sight of his brother’s back while your legs wrapped around his trim waist, but the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin made Aegon’s skin tingle and his cock jump against his palm. He rubbed himself in tandem with the rhythm of the bedframe’s creaking, praying that the darkness of the room made it so that neither of you would catch him in the act. 

Aemond surged forward to meet your lips in a kiss that was a mess of teeth, tongue, and spit. His pace remained relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his cock while his brother helplessly watched. One quick look behind him and he had seen Aegon, crowned king of the Seven Kingdoms, pathetically jerking himself off to the sight of him fucking his wife. Aemond may have once coveted the crown placed upon his brother’s head and the glory that came along with it, but for once he had something his brother wanted. Nothing else would ever come above the warmth of your embrace and the sweet nectar from between your thighs. As a second son he would be bestowed no lands, no legacy, and no other glory, but what more would a man need than a wife who sang the loveliest melody while he split her open with his cock?

Your nails dug into the hard planes of Aemond’s back as he drove you further into your second peak. It was all overwhelming, the caution of keeping quiet, the mind-numbing pleasure of your prince’s cock driving into your cunt, and his grunts of pleasure in your ear, coupled with the electrifying sparks of his thumb playing with your pearl. 

“Do you like this, dear wife? Making me fuck you while your king lay asleep in our chambers? Is this what you wanted, hm? Is this what you wanted me to do?” Aemond growled in your ear, punctuating each query with a harsh thrust. You could only whine and whimper in response, while the warmth in your belly only grew higher, and higher, until it spread all over like cold water, making you spill around Aemond’s cock while you moaned in ecstasy. 

Behind you, Aegon bit his lip harshly as he spilled into his breeches, the sounds of your release driving him towards his. He pressed his face into the cushion to hide his panting, his skin growing heated with the humid air of sex that filled the room. 

Aemond soon spurted his own seed into your core, the pulsing of your walls milking him dry while his thrusts slowed. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, breathing in the scent of your damp skin while he caught his breath. 

“I love you,” he said against your skin, this time without the anger behind his words.

You caressed your husband’s hair while he continued to lay on top of you, equally feeling as boneless with his weight engulfing you comfortingly like a blanket. 

“I love you,” you whispered in response. “There is nothing else I desire for in this world other than you, my love.”

Aegon felt an odd twinge in his chest at your words. For a moment, just a few seconds, he fantasized you had uttered those words to him, and you were his.

After regaining your senses, you lifted your head slightly to take a peek at Aegon. From the view where you lay, it looked to you that the king remained peacefully asleep despite you and your husband’s activities. Though the darkness in the room betrayed you, making it hard for you to actually see the tear that had streaked down his cheek.

“I guess that didn’t wake him up,” you mused. The prince merely hummed in response, his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“No, he can sleep through anything. Must be nice,” Aemond said quietly. He bit back the smirk at your blissful unawareness, moving to lay on his back before pulling you to his chest.

“Will you promise me that you will talk to him? On the morrow?” you asked, looking up at him with hope. Your husband nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss on your forehead. He pulled the covers over the both of you, rubbing your back while you drifted off into slumber. Your husband held you tight through the night, pleasantly satisfied. 

You remained asleep when Aemond had gotten up just as the sun broke through the horizon, pulling away from you to prepare for his morning training. After getting dressed in his training clothes, Aemond approached his brother’s sleeping figure on the daybed, nudging him awake. He threw a spare training jacket to Aegon, which covered his confused face, dazed with exhaustion. 

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly, eyeing his brother with indifference. “You’re going to train with me.” 

The kind did not appreciate his brother's prodding. He would have preferred to sleep for another hour if Aemond would allow it, but he also knew his brother rarely allowed things that he, himself did not have a preference for, and so Aegon rose from the daybed with great annoyance, and a deep sense of contempt. He let out a groan when he stretched his aching limbs, the exhaustion from the previous night still coursing through his muscles. Aegon had been talking a little too loud for Aemond’s liking, who turned to his brother to quiet him. 

“Shut it. Do not disturb my wife,” he hissed, eyeing your sleeping figure when you slightly stirred. Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother’s order, though obediently changing his dirty doublet for his brother’s gambeson. 

“You’re one to talk about disturbing others in their sleep,” the king grumbled under his breath. Aemond merely let out a breathy chuckle at his brother’s words. 

This idiot. Subtlety was never his strong suit.

While Aegon finished up the last buckle of his garment, Aemond kneeled one knee on the bed to lean over your sleeping figure, planting a small kiss on your forehead. You let out a small dreamy hum in response, still deep into the throes of your slumber. Aemond pulled up the furs to cover you better, before turning to Aegon and leading him outside.

The morning air was crisp when the brothers descended the steps to the training yard. Few littered about, mostly servants running around in preparation for the day. The surprise in their gaze was undeniable at witnessing their king awake so early, the sight of him in the training yard with his brother clearly not a usual occurrence. 

The brothers sparred together, or rather, Aegon was pathetically dodging his brother’s attacks while Aemond swung at him with a skilled ease. It was clear there was a tension between the two, one they were both well aware of the reason why. With only a few hits in, Aegon had already begun to pant, the years of his negligence in his sword training catching up to him quickly.

“I hope the satisfaction you get from this helps to quench the fire in your cock, brother,” the king taunted, heaving.

“There’s only one person who can quench the fire in my cock, and it certainly isn’t you,” Aemond retorted, indifference coating his tone but a smirk decorated his lips.  “My wife tells me you had something to say to me. What was so important you chose to intrude on my wife in the middle of the night?”

Aegon held up a hand in defeat, dropping his sword carelessly into the dirt before bending over to lean his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths while he willed himself not to vomit, the wine in his stomach not settling well with the strenuous ordeal he found himself in so early in the morning.

Essos. His crown for freedom. All of those now seemed like a faraway dream, with the way his brother looked down on him with an unhidden contempt, the effort would be completely futile.

“I thought we could talk, as brothers. Yet standing here in front of you know, I see that is far likely to happen, Aemond,” Aegon said, resignation in his tone. His brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

​​“Talk,” Aemond said, his voice filled with sarcasm. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a rag to wipe his sword. “We can talk,” he expressed, his tone carrying a feigned lightness that perturbed Aegon. “Just not about your little obsession with my wife, brother.”

“My obsession?” Aegon responded, incredulous. He looked at Aemond in utter disbelief, who continued to clean his sword calmly. “If anyone is obsessing about someone here, Aemond, it is not me. You are too quick to anger, too riddled with jealousy of me that you cannot stand for me to be in a room with her. I would almost think you were afraid of being bested by me,” the elder said, his lips curling into a sneer. His brother halted in the middle of his wiping, the hand holding the hilt of his sword gripping the handle tight. Aegon gulped at the sight, wary of the younger’s growing temper. Aemond turned to the king, narrowing his good eye at him.

“I do not fear you, Aegon. Do not pretend,” he said, an eerie calmness in his tone. Aegon took a careful step back as his brother stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back. “I wouldn’t give a shit about you being around her if I didn’t know your damned thoughts about her. She is mine.”

Aegon’s clenched jaw mirrored Aemond’s. His brother’s words left him with no reasonable defense. His affection for his brother’s wife was now out in the open, and he feared the repercussions. 

“How do you know what I think of her? What makes you think I even want her?” Aegon responded, anger in his voice. 

“It is because I know you, Aegon. You are predictable, you grow wide-eyed at the first thing that you believe would grant you the smallest ounce of affection. It is pitiful, really, especially for a king,” Aemond sneered. Any snark rebuttal Aegon had died on his lips as he shrunk in the weight of his brother’s gaze. The younger prince’s stare was piercing, jabbing through Aegon’s skin, prodding at his bare bones. “If I see you making eyes at her again, I swear to it, there won’t be enough blood left in your body to even cry to the gods that they might spare you.”

Aegon could only stare at his brother, his response sending a chill down his spine. He had never feared the younger prince before, in all his physical prowess and ruthlessness, but as they stood in the quiet yard, he had begun to falter.

“All this for a woman, brother?” Aegon asked, voice low as he could only stare at his younger brother. Aemond huffed, standing tall over his king. 

“Yes,” Aemond said. “Over this woman.”

But I am your blood, Aegon wanted to say, but he could only stare.

“Don’t take it personally, brother. If any other man were standing in front of me, I would have said the same thing,” Aemond said, tilting his head mockingly. The one-eyed prince ignored the nagging in his consciousness, one that resembled his mother’s stern voice.

‘We must protect our own,’ she would always say, though as her sons now stood face to face, they couldn’t be more of a threat to each other. Perhaps he had gone too far, but he couldn’t let the fucker have more than he deserved. He already had the crown, the Conqueror’s name. He loved his brother, the gods know he did, but he would breathe fire onto the seven kingdoms if it meant it kept you by his side. 

Aegon could only sigh in defeat, kicking a small pebble by his feet as he sniffled.

“She is all yours, Aemond, do not fret. You have made that very clear. I shall take my leave, this conversation has certainly been the most… fruitful,” Aegon said, smiling sarcastically. The elder turned before Aemond could respond, walking back into the Keep.

Watching Aegon walk away, Aemond pondered on the weight of his words, what this would mean for you and for Aegon, realizing too late what he had failed to do. 

“Fuck,” he said beneath his breath. He closed his eye exasperatedly, stretching his neck backwards to face the sky. “My wife is going to kill me.”

[dntaed]

﹅ WRAPPED IN RED ◞ j. todd ✗ gn!reader | 1.2k

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend's wish of seeing you in his clothes finally comes true!

✹ ꕀ MASTERLIST ; AO3

A/N: This is a re-write of an old piece + v dear to my heart and I couldn't let it go c: still figuring out the layout of my posts, we'll get there<3 there's a little something near the end for you guys!

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin, the delicate touch grazing his skin as you handle him like glass. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice, thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the marigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed, waiting for something he knew he needed but couldn't even muster the courage to ask you.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sift through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You’d have me ditch the pants too, wouldn’t you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Never mind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his arms around you. You melt into his hold but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you’ll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn’t seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don’t plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

♥︎ ♥︎

♥︎

Maybe it’s the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn’t even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn’t feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can’t help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—the red you tangle yourself in.

Jason doesn’t respond much, letting your voice settle over him like a lullaby. The words become secondary, drowned out by the soft sound of your voice. His focus remains on the way your fingers absently run along the lapel of his jacket, the way you unconsciously pull it closer around yourself when a draft rolls through the café.

His jacket never looked so good.

And it’s so simple, so small, yet he feels something settle deep in his chest, like an ache but not quite pain. More like a longing, like a silent plea.

You’re his.

The thought strikes him like lightning, making him sit up straighter. He’d always known it, in a way. It’s in the way you kiss him, in the way you fit against him in sleep, in the way you argue with him but never walk away.

But seeing you in his jacket—his red, his mark, his silent claim—feels different. It’s a primal, gut-deep kind of satisfaction that he’s never quite experienced before.

You must feel his eyes on you because you pause mid-sentence, tilting your head. “What?”

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, looking down at the coffee he barely remembers ordering. “Nothing.”

Your brows furrow in suspicion, but you let it go. For now.

The rest of the evening passes in a comfortable blur of conversation, laughter, and stolen glances. You wear his jacket the whole time.

And when it’s finally time to leave, stepping out into the cool Gotham night, you don’t return it to him. You just snuggle further into it, fingers tightening around the worn leather as you shiver.

Jason doesn’t ask for it back.

He wouldn’t dare.

Instead, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. The city lights cast a golden glow on your face, highlighting the softness in your eyes as you glance up at him.

It’s then that he decides he wants to see you in his clothes more often.

A hoodie, maybe. Or one of his t-shirts, worn and soft from too many washes. Maybe even the sweatpants he keeps shoved in the back of his dresser.

Maybe even—someday—his ring on your finger.

But for now, the jacket is enough.

For now, red suits you just fine.

© dntaed | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified.

[shadykazama]

Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!

The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!

❤

Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.

When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.

Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.

He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.

One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.

Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.

Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)

On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.

But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.

Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.

Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.

I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.

Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"

His love language is gift giving and acts of service.

He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.

Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.

He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.

Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.

I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.

You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.

Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.

You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!

Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.

Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.

Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚

Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.

Give this man kids I dare you.

That's a topic for a different post 😌

Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.

These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3

💙

The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.

Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.

You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.

He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.

For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.

Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.

He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."

Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.

He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.

Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-

But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.

He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...

Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)

Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?

Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.

Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.

If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)

If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)

If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.

Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.

Terribly jealous individual.

The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.

Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.

Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.

Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.

Will let you win play fights (most of the time).

Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.

Doesn't know how to take compliments.

Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.

Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.

Art by @marcu-bug

[ddollfface]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞!

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲?; 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗕𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

It's like the tangy taste that lingers on your tongue when you bite into a ripe peach, crawling throughout your body in an explosion of emotions. It's warm, pleasing, and spontaneous, never letting you get the hang of it. There's never any consistency; it's like living life on the edge, never having a dull moment with her. Her girly adventures, no matter how keen you are on such things, always find a way into your heart through doing silly fashion shows, trying on each others' clothes, going to pet stores, and cooing at the little bunnies and fishies!

You're nights are filled with chisme, constantly talking about the latest news on campus. Though you're not as invested as she is, don't worry, she'll fill you in; she's good like that. She wants to know your every opinion, but ignore the fact that her input shifts with yours, always wanting to agree with you. Though with others she's disinterested, acting clueless and dumb, with you, she's attentive. She's remembering everything she can while she paints your nails, squinting her eyes, and letting her tongue stick on in concentration as she nods along with your story about your shitty chemistry lab partner, (and don't you worry, she dealt with him for spilling water on your shirt ;)

She wants to be the one you run to, the one you call when some asshole dumps you. Don't worry! She's not like everyone else, she'll help! Let her fix your makeup, she will make it all better if you just trust her. Don't listen to everyone else, and instead, just focus on her!

She doesn't want to think of growing old, of losing her hot body. Though she knows that it's soon to come, she wants to live her life to the fullest, and with you of course (that's the most important part)! She's never thought about the afterlife or what's to come, nor the consequences of her own (bad) actions, instead, she wants to feel your lips on hers, silly!

She wants to feel her makeup smudge as her crawls onto your lap, having your hands mold into her body as she leans into you. She wants to appreciate you, to love you for your body and mind. Though she thinks your tits are pretty sweet, she wants to claw out the heart that's underneath, take it for herself, and wrap the arteries around her own.

As her lips trail down your neck, feeling feather-light but baited as her heavy breath fans across your skin, she lets her nails run up and down your back, hoping to feel grounded in your presence. Whenever she's around you, she can't help but feel giddy, to be filled with this needy sentiment that prods at her brain, begging her body to move closer to yours, to press her nose to your neck, and wrap her legs around your waist.

She wants to crawl into your chest, so that's why she scoots closer, pressing your chest to hers, and cupping your jaw with her hands, careful of her acrylic nails. Her eyes are heart-shaped, practically glowing with the obsession that spirals through her body. Almost wrapping around you like a snack, she purses her lips, never letting them space away from your own, always making sure that you're somehow touching.

These emotions are so deep-rooted, keeping her grounded and whole as she's attached her whole identity to you, feeling as though you are one with her. What would she do without her best friend? She needs your validation, she needs your eyes on her, her, her. Don't look at that guy, or another girl for that matter, you're eyes should only be on her and her alone.

She can be everything and anything you want, just tell her! Tell her she's pretty and fulfill this growing obsession in her heart. She doesn't know what she'd do without you, and she wants to you to feel the same, so that's why she always has her arms around you. No matter where you are, her lips are pressed to your neck, as if a reminder that she's there, always. She wants to be there for you, so she makes you aware of her presence, so you get just as caught up on her as she is to you.