#perhaps i now have 'some other me' in my head

[loramystii]

Sevika with bartender reader?

ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ʙᴀʀᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇꜱꜱᴀʀʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪɴᴋꜱ ᴏʀ ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ?

— ᴄᴡ; ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ & ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴀʟᴄ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

You were counting up the money and tips from last night, getting ready to clock in for tonight. Most were regular tips, 20s-50 bills, especially if they were consantly flirting with you. Though, Sevika, your regular, oddly tipped you more than anybody else. You didn’t think much of it, just that she had money and was lonely. And anyways, it was good to be on Silco’s number two’s good side. You moved your hair away from your hair, sighing and placing your hands on your waist as you listened to some random customer’s order. As you turned around the grab the vodka, your thong was visible above your low rise jeans, a low whistle coming from them. Your eyes rolled but a faux smile graced your lips as you turned. Shaking their drink a while longer, you placed it on the counter. “Add it to my tab, sweetheart.” You tilted your head with a nod and a smile.

Customers came in and out, all of them boring you. Yet once the door opened and Sevika’s broad figure was in your line of sight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, your eyes lit up. You quickly adjusted your posture and fixed your low-cut shirt, unsure as to why you wanted to impress her so badly. She walked up to the counter, placing her gun down, intimidating others who were surrounding you on the counter. They grumbled yet walked way to the other side of the bar. “There’s my favorite doll,” She spoke throatily. Her eyes darted to your tits and stomach, then to your slightly disheveled hair from working. “Came a bit later than usual, Sev’” You stated, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the bar supplies.

“I have stuff to do, still passed by to see you, eh?” You chuckled at her bragging, how she was oh so packed in her schedule yet made time in her busy day to eye you and leave you money. “Whiskey neat?” You asked, her usual order, a classy woman if you had to describe it. She nodded, settling down onto a barstool. As you spun to clutch a glass, her wandering eyes landed on the pairing of your jeans and panties, an uncalled for groan leaving her lips. You cocked a brow, only flipping your head to see why she did that. “Just— uh, just a bruise, you know.” You bought it, unaware of the way her thoughts traveled to the filthiest of things. She received her drink, lips placed on the rim to take a sip.

“So, missed me?” She teased, trying to fill the silence. Licking her bottom lip, watching your tits move with your body and hips turn to grab different items. “Not missed, was jus’ bored.” You clarified even though you yourself didn’t understand your desires and feelings towards her. She hummed in acknowledgment, perhaps amusement. “Good, it’s good I don’t bore you.”

Three more drinks later, Sevika was already inebriated. Her words were slurred and her movements were messy. It seemed everybody else in the bar was the same, intoxicated and scattered all over the place. Not many people were asking for drinks anymore, simply dancing, talking, making out, you name it. You were no longer behind the counter but leaned against it beside Sevika. Sevika’s filter was long gone, her heavily lidded eyes shamelessly eye fucking you. “Are you a slut for every customer, or just me?” A surprised gasp left your lips, eyes widening at the drunk words. A slight huff leaves your lips, crossing your arms over your tits. “Seriously? I’m not a slut.” Sevika rolls her eyes tauntingly, hands subconsciously wandering to your waist. Pressing you flush against her, Sevika spoke now, the music still making her hard to hear. “Your damn panties are out for everybody to see and visually ruin you.” One of your legs wrapped around her bottom leg, boot pressed against it. Her condescending tone making heat pool at the bottom of your tummy in need, and this time, you knew exactly what you needed.

A knowing smile came upon your lips, tracing your fingertips teasingly along her facial features. “Maybe I did it for you,” You commented, placing the idea of you dressing up at home in your little panties and bra thinking of what outfit would please her most. Which thong would get her attention. What top would make her wanna fuck your brains out. Which hairdo would make her tip you greatest. It had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, the alcohol making it harder to say grounded. “Though, I think you’re a bit of a coward.” You extended your botton lip, knowing such insults would set her off. She gripped on you tigher, growling besides your ear. “Why’s that?” Sevika questioned, slipping her knee between both of your thighs. There was ultimately no space left between you and Sevika’s bodies. “All you do is give me money and throw sneaky passes at me, why haven’t you just fucked me, Sevika?” She let out a hefty chuckle, licking her dry lips. “Stop testing me, little girl.” She says mockingly, just trying to intimidate you even though you’re not that far in age. “Think you’re the little girl, Sev’, can’t even reach for that zipper if your life depended on it.”

Your endless ridiculing made her grab your ass, squeezing it and lifting you onto the counter. Your back arched against her hands now, arms circling around her neck. Her hand rushed to undo your pant’s buttons, yelping slightly. “Sev’— are you seriously—“ She cuts you off wih a grumble, nipping at your neck. “You fuckin’ asked for it, now you’re complaining, make up your damn mind, doll.” Your hands came to her chest, trying to push her away but failing miserably. “Nobody’s watchin’” She reassured, hands running through your tense frame. She only got the confidence from the drinks in her system, her thumb coming to rub circes on your pulsing nub. Your cunt clenched around nothing, moaning her name into her ear. A few people’s heads turned, observing the slick from your pussy coating Sevika’s hand. A quick glare made them look away, yet you were still worried and turned on from being displayed. “Tell me how to move m’hand, doll.” She demanded, gathering all your wetness on her two digits and ramming them into you. Your legs circled her torso, head hidden in the crook of her neck.

She pumped them in and out of you, watching your every reaction and whimper. She was experienced, you knew that much, yet seeing it in action was different. “Cu-curl—“ Before you ended your request, she curled her fingers into your g-spot, your jaw going slack as she abused that spot. “Sev’, Sev’, too much—“ Her free hand grabbed your throat, ruining your pussy in plain sight. “Close, doll?” You nodded, tears dripping onto her neck from being embarrassed and babbling pleas. A white ring of cum coated Sevika’s fingers, cooing praises, and encouragement, and then sucking a hickey onto your pulse point. “Thought you weren’t a slut?” Her fingers left your sopping pussy with a nasty squelching noise, licking your cum off her knuckles. Your thighs squeeze shut, reaching to zip up your pants. “You’re a bitch.” You spat, legs shaky. “Promoted from coward, it seems?” She leaves 400 on your counter besides you. 150 from her drinks and the rest for.. well..

“I swear to god if you leave—“ you nearly chase after her as she waves her hand walking away. “I’ll be getting myself off in my car till you get off your shift, yeah? Don’ get your panties inna’ twist.”

ʀᴇqꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ 𐙚

[caracalla-dondus]

Suspicious Minds

Pairing: Emperor Geta/wife!reader

Summary: A senator informs Geta about the rumors surrounding his wife

Author's Note: This fic consists of pieces I took out from a much longer fic I had written. After reading what I originally wrote I didn't really vibe with the whole thing and so I took out parts I liked best to create this fic. Idk if it's better or worse because things feel a bit rushed in this fic now and not as cohesive as before but it's good enough I think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I was partly inspired by Fire & Blood where it says that some in court found Queen Rhaenys Targaryen suspicious because she spent time with bards and singers and they were sure she must be having an affair on Aegon I. Also the title is from the Elvis song of the same name because it popped into my head while writing this because it's similar to the plot lol.

~~~

The late afternoon sun streamed through the marble arches of the palace, casting shadows across the floor of the Emperor’s private chamber. Emperor Geta paced restlessly, his jaw clenched tight, his fingers twitching. The rumors had come to him this morning, carried by a senator whose words had been carefully chosen, yet laced with venom.

“She is often seen in the company of poets and bards, my Emperor. Some say perhaps too often.”

The words echoed in Geta’s mind as he strode to the balcony. Below him, others strolled about, oblivious to the storm brewing in his heart. He had always known that his wife had a fondness for the arts. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. The way her eyes lit up when she heard the verses of a poem she thought was interesting, the soft smile that graced her lips during the final notes of a ballad. She was a woman of intelligence and charm. Perfect qualities to be his empress.

But now those very same qualities and interests had become the source of his unrest.

~

Geta finds his wife out in the garden. “I had hoped to speak with you my wife,” he said, his tone polite but firm. 

“What troubles you, my love?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to him.

Geta studied her, his gaze lingering on her face, searching for some sign of guilt. But she looked as she always did, serene, composed, and beautiful. “There are whispers in the court,” he began slowly, “that your affection for music and poetry has extended beyond mere appreciation.”

His wife’s eyes widened, and then she laughed softly, a sound like the chiming of bells. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”

“I don’t want to,” Geta admitted, his voice low. “But the court is not kind to a woman who spends her days surrounded by other men, no matter how innocent her intentions.”

Her smile faded, and she placed a hand on his arm. “Geta, these men are poets, musicians and artists. They speak to me about the soul, not the flesh. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”

He wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. But the thought of her laughter, her attention, her admiration being bestowed on another man gnawed at him. “Then why do others speak of you so?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why do they say you adore Bacchus so much that you have embraced his indulgences?”

His wife stiffened, her hand falling away. “Do you question my virtue?” she asked, insulted that her husband would believe such nonsense about her.

“I question the company you keep!” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended.

She took a step back, her expression conveying her hurt and frustration. “You have always known who I am Geta. I am not a woman content to sit idly in the palace, just simply gossiping my day away. I find joy in the divine chaos of creation. If that makes me suspicious in the eyes of our court then so be it. But I will not apologize for things I did not do.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Geta clenched his fists, his anger warring with his love for her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer. “I do not wish to stifle you. But I cannot bear the thought of others questioning your loyalty or your love for me.”

His wife stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Then let me reassure you, my emperor. I am as sure of my love for you as I am about Sol bringing us the sun each morning. But if you doubt me, then tell me what must I do to prove myself?”

He sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “Let the poets and bards sing their songs without you for once. Let Bacchus have his revelry elsewhere.”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “If it will ease your mind, my dear husband then I will stay.”

Geta pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the whispers that sought to undermine them. But even as he held her, a shadow of doubt lingered, refusing to be banished entirely.

~

The grand halls of the palace echoed with the click of her delicate sandals against the marble floor. The weight of her husband’s arm on her shoulder was both reassuring and suffocating. For the past three days, Geta had not let her out of his sight. Where she went, he followed. Where he could not follow, he sent his guards to watch her every step. It was unlike him, and though his paranoia was silent, she could feel it in the way his fingers tightened around her arm, in the watchful, almost desperate glint in his eyes.

She had tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him of her loyalty, but it seemed no words could pierce through the suspicion that had taken hold of him.

During a feast, Geta watched his wife like a hawk as she entertained a visiting nobleman whose son had written a collection of poems. His wife listened to the man intently, her soft smile never wavering as the man recited a verse.

But Geta saw something else. He saw how the man’s eyes lingered on her, how her laughter seemed to light up the room. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, his jaw tightening. Was it admiration? Was it mere courtesy? Or was there something more? The thoughts churned in his mind like a storm, dark and unrelenting.

When the man left, Geta wasted no time. He rose abruptly, crossing the room to where his wife stood.

“You enjoyed his company,” he said, his voice low but laced with accusation.

His wife blinked, startled by his tone. “He was reciting his son’s poetry, my dear husband. That’s all it was.”

“You smiled at him,” Geta pressed, his eyes narrowing. “You laughed.”

“Am I not allowed to smile and laugh?” she asked softly, though there was a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Must I always wear a sour expression to please you?”

His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling - not with anger, but with something deeper, something more fragile. “Your smiles, your laughter, they belong to me and no one else.”

Her eyes softened as she saw the flicker of insecurity behind his harsh words. She reached up, covering his hand with her own. “And they are yours, Geta,” she murmured. “Only yours.”

His grip loosened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might vanish. “I will not lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I cannot.”

~

For the next several days, Geta’s wife’s world shrank. Where she once wandered the gardens freely, now her husband walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. When she visited the library, he went with her. Her gatherings with poets and musicians were no more, replaced by dinners where Geta sat her beside him, his eyes never leaving her.

She tried to be understanding, but his constant scrutiny weighed heavily on her. One evening, as they sat together in their chambers, she finally spoke.

“Geta,” she began, her voice tentative. “Do you not trust me?”

He looked up from the goblet of wine in his hand, his expression guarded. “Of course I trust you, you are my wife,” he said after a long pause. “It is everyone else I do not trust.”

“You cannot keep watch over me forever,” she said.

His jaw tightened. “You are my wife,” he said firmly. “My empress. And I will not risk anyone else taking you from me.”

“Even if it means suffocating me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geta flinched, as if her words had struck him. He set the goblet down and rose to his feet, pacing the room. “You do not understand,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I have enemies everywhere. We have enemies everywhere. They would use you against me. They would take you from me. Take your love away from me”

“Who could take me when I am yours in both heart and soul?” she asked, rising to stand before him.

He stopped, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking, his carefully constructed armor of intimidation cracking to reveal the fear beneath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But the thought of losing you terrifies me.”

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Geta,” she said softly, “you will not lose me. I love you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me.”

“I promise,” she said, though her heart ached at the desperation in his voice.

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her as if his life depended on it. She sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. She understood that his possessiveness was not born of cruelty, nor out of a need to stifle her but it was of a fear he could not truly voice, a fear he could not truly reconcile with, and it had consumed him.

And so she stayed, tethered to him by her love for him, hoping that soon his insecurities would ease and he would see that she was his, not because he demanded it, but because she chose it. But she was not sure how much she could take of this suffocating behavior. Of every move of hers and every interaction being heavily watched.

~

She rarely let her frustrations boil to the surface, but this time was different. As she sat across from her husband in their private chambers, the weight of the senator’s venomous words and their impact on her marriage gnawed at her patience. For days and days now, Geta’s suffocating possessiveness had taken over every aspect of her life, and she could no longer bear the thought that this rift between them had been instigated by a man seeking to undermine her, a man seeking to replace her.

She set down her goblet with a sharp clink, her hands trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained annoyance and anger. “I’ve been thinking, my dear husband,” she began, her voice calm but carrying an obvious edge to it.

Geta glanced up from his seat, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. “What is it?”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with uncharacteristic determination. “The senator who came to you with these baseless rumors. I believe he must be punished.”

Geta blinked, clearly surprised. “Punished? For what?”

“For daring to speak against me,” she replied, her voice firm, slightly exasperated that he did not already know what she spoke of. “For poisoning your mind with lies and causing this… this chaos between us. He sought to undermine your confidence in me, to cast doubt on my loyalty, to possibly destroy my reputation. That is not something we should let go unanswered.”

Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. “You surprise me, wife. I thought you were above petty revenge. You have always counseled me against such rash decisions before”

“This is not petty, nor is it rash!” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “He sought to disgrace me, your wife, your empress. By doing so, he has disgraced you as well. How can you tolerate such audacity?”

Her words struck a nerve. Geta’s insecurities flared, his mind racing as he considered her argument. She was right. The senator’s insinuations had not only called his wife’s loyalty into question but had also implied that Geta was a weak ruler, unable to control his own household. The thought made his blood boil.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice low.

“Demote him. Remove him from his position. Let it be known that you will not tolerate slander against your Empress.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. “And if others see this as an act of weakness? A sign that I am blinded by my love for you?”

“Let them see it as a warning,” she countered. “Let them know that your loyalty to your wife is unwavering and that you will not allow anyone to sow baseless discord in your court.”

Her words appealed to Geta’s pride, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. After a long silence, he nodded slowly. “Very well. The senator will be dealt with. I’ll ensure his removal will be public and soon.”

Relief washed over her, though a part of her felt dissatisfied about simply just having the senator removed from his position. The senator had meddled in her marriage, made her husband watch every move she made for days now, and he deserved to face more severe consequences for it. The senator has a daughter around her age, she felt certain the senator was likely hoping to get her pushed aside to potentially make way for his daughter to get close to Geta, for her to be the next Empress of Rome. Geta’s wife seethed silently at the thought of someone replacing her, of someone attempting to steal her position. She thought about paying Caracalla a visit and informing him of the treacherous senator in their midst. He would certainly give her the dramatic reaction she wants.

Geta rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand before her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You are right. I should never have allowed his words to poison my mind. You are my empress, my wife. No one will come between us again”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch and calming for a moment. “And I will always stand by your side Geta. But we must stand together, against anyone who seeks to divide us.”

Geta kissed her then, fierce and possessive, as if to reaffirm their bond. She let herself melt into the embrace, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she should push for more to be done about the senator. 

~~~~

reader can't take out her frustrations on Geta so she will take it out on the senator who started all of this instead lol

[kekewrites]

LADS Caleb x pervert!reader

Tw: just reader being perverted and gross, reader is going through it, reader being nasty, weird thoughts, horny thoughts, tension

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Being a high schooler and entering a new stage in life where your hormones goes rampant, making you more aware of the opposite gender. It doesn't help how you're currently living with someone so handsome, caring, kind... and so... manly.

Wait- you shouldn't think about your childhood friend like that!

You didn't know when it started. It just happened one morning when you came to the kitchen to eat breakfast, his back seems broader than usual, his tank top showing off his big juicy biceps, and his tall frame-

"Oh, you're awake pipsqueak? Why are you standing there?"

His voice snap you out of your thoughts, shaking your head to rid of them before settling down on the chair. Trying to act normal and totally not conscious of him, you grumble how cold it was in the morning.

Caleb's eyes swept over your form appraisingly, a flicker of something unreadable sparking in their purple depths as they lingered perhaps a moment too long. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric of his tank top stretching taut against his biceps.

Damn...

Something in your demeanor struck Caleb as... different. A faint blush colored your cheeks, and you seemed to avoid his gaze. He quirked an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Cold, huh? Well, why don't ya come over here and let me warm ya up then, short stack," he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately—though his touch lingered perhaps a heartbeat longer than usual. 

Why does his hand feel bigger than usual? Or were they always that big?

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Staring at the toothbrush innocently sitting in the cup along with her own. The blue toothbrush and her pink one beside each other, just like those married couple have. The blue toothbrush that had been inside Caleb's mouth. The blue toothbrush that soaks up his saliva mixing with toothpaste.

Caleb's saliva...

I wonder how it taste like?

Your mind snapped as you stare at the blue toothbrush in your hand, your subconscious already grabbed the toothbrush now currently sitting in your hand.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

Nervously gulping, you opened your mouth ready to use his toothbrush not until, the person you're currently crazy about walks in, making you freeze on the spot.

"Hey, did you see where I put my notebook? Huh? Is that my toothbrush?"

Heart pounding, you quickly switch the toothbrushes, your face burning with embarrassment as you turn to face Caleb. You try to keep your voice steady, but it comes out in a panicked squeak.

"N-no, of course not! I mean, I was just… I got confused and grabbed your toothbrush by mistake." You let out a nervous, slightly manic laugh. "You know how much of a ditz I can be in the mornings!"

You turn away, hiding your flushed face from sight as you begin scrubbing your teeth with fervor, hoping Caleb didn't notice the way your hands shook slightly.

He raised an eyebrow, "Ok? So, have you seen my notebook?"

Pausing your toothbrushing to glare at Caleb's reflection in the mirror, you huff in annoyance, "No! I didn't see your stupid notebook."

That was close...

Thinking about a pervert!reader, being extra moody and defensive when you're around him. Totally not because you're starting to see him as a man. Totally not because you're starting to realize how attractive he is.

Starting to feel guilty about imagining some inappropriate thoughts just be staring at him. It would be just a normal hangouts with him, eating popsicle stick with him. Your eyes darting at the way he licks the popsicle, his adam's apple bopping down.

"What's up?"

You froze as you realized Caleb had caught you staring.

"N-no, it's nothing!" you stammered, tearing your gaze away. you could feel the heat rising in your skin.

You fidgeted in your seat, suddenly hyperaware of every little detail—the way his tongue flicked out to catch a drip of melting ice, the flex of his broad shoulders as he raised the treat to his lips once more.

Why is he doing that?!

"It's just... it's cold in here, that's all," you avoided his probing gaze, staring down at the half-eaten popsicle stick in your own hand. You swallowed hard past the lump forming in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Why am I always having those thoughts? I don't wanna be a creep!

Caleb's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied your face, not entirely convinced by your flimsy excuse. The blush staining your cheeks and the way you couldn't quite meet his gaze spoke volumes.

Thinking about a self-aware!caleb, who knows the effect he has on you. His hidden smirk every time he knows what you're thinking about.

Caleb sits across from you, his expression unreadable, eyes shadowed by something you can’t quite place. You tell yourself it’s just your imagination, that the way his gaze lingers is nothing more than coincidence. That the way he angles his body ever so slightly toward you isn’t deliberate.

You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily he manages to throw you off balance. The way his voice lingers in your mind even after the conversation has ended. The way his presence alone feels like an invisible tether, pulling your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to resist.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything.

Just sits there. Watching.

You convince yourself he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to his lips when he speaks, the way you fidget under his gaze. You tell yourself he isn’t aware of how your pulse betrays you when he leans in just a fraction too close.

But then, just for a split second, there it is. A barely, there shift in his expression, a flicker of amusement, gone before you can catch it.

You don’t notice the smirk he hides behind his next words. You don’t realize that every stolen glance, every shaky breath, every fleeting moment of hesitation and he’s seen it all. And worse?

He knows exactly what it means.

And he's enjoying it.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Smooth Operator

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): References to age-appropriate drinking and a few dirty jokes, but this is surprisingly tame compared to my other Warriors works

Notes: Ugh I love Wars so bad, writing him is such a treat.

Masterlist

The tavern was as crowded as it could be; a heavy throng of people milling about the small space, some in time to the cheery music and others to the swirling rhythm of their heart, swaying on their feet as bodies and inhibitions melded together. The atmosphere was darkly carefree, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. It wasn't an ideal meeting spot, but you needed information more than your dignity.

The candlelight flickered as you brought your glass up, wetting your lips with the gentlest sips of red wine, tongue flicking to carefully swipe over the painted curve of your bottom lip, not wanting to disturb Wild's handiwork. You had no idea where the champion had learned to apply lip stain like he had, but you weren't complaining when your eyes caught the rough silhouette of your target, a well-connected merchant rumored to possess knowledge on the whereabouts of a certain black lizalfos.

The music swelled and dipped, filling you with a sort of confidence as you pulled away from the side of the bar, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles of your dress–a gift from Warriors–and stalking forward with the grace of a panther, the deep neckline accentuating the curve of your chest and the tasteful slit in the thigh revealing hints of flesh beneath, though not enough to label you as something... more than you were.

The crowd seemed to part as you made your way forward, the merchant's back to you until the very last second, when your shoulder brushed his and you squeaked in a tone borrowed from Wind himself. "My apologies, my lord–"

The man turned, his disgruntled expression quickly turning into something far more appreciative. "Why, my lady, no apologies necessary," his gaze swept down your body in a way that made you feel horribly exposed, but you covered it up by placing a hand over your mouth, batting your lashes softly. "I can't help as though I've seen you before."

You tensed when his unoccupied hand–the one not holding a massive mug of beer–swept down to rest on the curve of your waist, lightly covered by patterned mesh. His breath, hot and rank, washed over you, and you regretted not taking the fan Sky offered you. "Oh, my lord..." you cooed, putting as much simpering charm as you could manage into those three words.

"But how could I forget a face as delicate as yours," the merchant mused, brown eyes glinting like dried blood on cloth. "Especially not with a body so... enticing."

You were positive you could have thrown up in that moment, bile rising in your throat, bitter and burning. You needed to take control. Now. "You flatter me when I am but a humble traveler."

"A traveler? And where, pray tell, is your destination?"

"East, my lord."

"East," he hummed, and your skin crawled, hands gripping your glass hard enough to shatter it. "Pity, I am returning West myself."

"How coincidental, should we have both headed West," you said, keeping the conversation in motion until you were ready, putting on the best vexed face you could. "After the attacks, I fear..."

The merchant raised a brow. You smiled internally, knowing you had him hook, line, and sinker. "Attacks?"

"Yes," you glanced around the bar, and his gaze followed. "I have heard rumors... of a creature. A lizalfos, as dark as the night itself."

"Ah, and why would a delicate creature such as yourself be concerned with those matters?" The man pressed, eyes lighting up with hunger and lust as he considered his next words. "Unless, of course, you travel alone?"

"I'm afraid so," you confirmed, biting your tongue when his hand tightened around your waist. "If I knew the whereabouts, perhaps I would be more inclined to," you paused for effect, making sure your lips were as pouty as you could make them. "accept companions on my travels."

The merchant's eyes shone in a way that made you want to stab him with the dagger cleverly hidden in the folds of your dress. "Companions, my lady?"

You opened your mouth to respond, and that's when you saw him out of the corner of your eyes, a rogue flash of royal blue among the milling crowd. The hero. Your hero.

Warriors.

Warriors, who currently stalked forward like an apex predator. Warriors, dressed to the nines in his captain's uniform, scarf billowing behind him like the sail of a deadly ship. Warriors, whose gaze held nothing but broiling rage at the sight of you in the arms of someone other than him.

And you, the decoy, not quite able to remove him from the corners of your vision as you used the ticking seconds to simper about the whereabouts of the lizalfos, praying to whatever deity existed that you got your information before the hero got his penitence. Your wishes were granted when you caught sight of a tan scroll in the pocket of the merchant's coat, practically begging to be noticed by nimble minds and stolen by even nimbler fingers.

"Won't you tell me, my lord?" you simpered in one last ditch effort, trying to look as pathetic as possible to tempt him into submission. You didn't notice the way his gaze roved over every inch of your body, so focused on getting that map.

You didn't notice him look over, face falling slightly as he met the hero's glare.

You didn't notice the tension crackle between the two men.

But you did notice the shattering of glass and screams that filled the tavern as the merchant's grip tightened around your waist, turning into something painful and bruising as he drew himself up, attempting to intimidate Warriors with his height.

It didn't work.

You gasped when the Captain's fist collided with the merchant's cheek, sending the taller man staggering back into the wall, before seizing your wrist and pulling you against his side in a protective embrace. "Come on," he all but growled, though it wasn't directed at you, and you hardly had any time to react before he was tugging you in the direction of the exit, the sound of curses and breaking glass following you all the way out.

Warriors practically shoved the door open, gently pushing you into the alleyway before grabbing a stick from the ground and shoving it into the hinges, preventing anyone from coming through. You turned to face him, arms wrapped around yourself as the chill of the night began to take hold, hissing: "What the hell was that?!"

"You looked uncomfortable," the captain said, mirroring your stance with a stern, dangerous look, his tone devoid of its usually flirty cadence.

"I– that's the point!" You pinched your temples. "Or have you forgotten how these things work?"

Warriors' gaze darkened, and you knew you were pushing him. Too bad, because you were pissed, too. "He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, (Y/n)– and don't get me started on how he was feeling you up. I'll be damned if I sit back and watch you get–"

You interrupted him with a scoff. "Thanks, but I don't need your help, Warriors. I can handle myself just fine."

"It's not about that," he pressed, looking more and more frustrated. "It's about the fact that he touched something that doesn't belong to him."

"And what's that?" You shot back, knowing full well what he was referring to. This wasn't the first time you and Warriors had been at odds like this before, but it was certainly the most spontaneous.

"You."

You made a face at the insinuation. "I never said I belonged to you–"

"Neither did I, but you sure as hell don't belong to him," the hero interrupted with a snarl, cerulean eyes flashing with something vaguely protective. He was pissed, but not at you.

"I don't belong to anyone," you said, willing yourself not to think of the kiss you shared with him under the moonlight a few weeks ago. It happened during one of the rare breaks, with the chain stopping at an inn for a few days to recuperate after a particularly tough series of events, and, being the consenting adult you were, you had taken advantage of the downtime and gone to buy a flask of wine, which led to you and the captain sharing it in the back of the inn like a pair of misbehaving teenagers. You could still remember the chill of the tree as he pressed you against it, kissing you until all you saw were stars.

Nothing had happened since then.

Until now, though you weren't quite sure if the look in his eyes meant he was going to kiss or kill you.

"You don't," Warriors agreed, though there was something in his tone that hinted to something more. "I could have killed him, (Y/n)."

"And ruin that stellar reputation of yours?" You snarked, glad that the mood was lightening slightly. "Besides, I've gotten what I wanted."

His eyebrows shot up. "You–"

"Of course," you reached into the front of your dress and pulled out the scroll. "What, did you think I was flirting with him for fun?"

Warriors gave a noncommittal grunt, arms crossed over his chest.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh. "Pfft– seriously? Besides, it was either me or Wild, take your pick."

"Wild could have–"

"Wild would have set him on fire within the first minute," you interrupted with a grimace.

"Good."

For a split second, you were silent, mostly because you agreed with him and partly because the satisfied grin on his face was a bit much for your poor, exhausted brain at this time, but you managed a disapproving tut. "Nope, gotta preserve your reputation, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy," he echoed, trying and failing to look offended. You shrugged, offering him the scroll, which he took with an expression of shock. "You really..."

"What can I say?" you grinned. "I'm a great actor."

"Among other things," said the hero, and you laughed softly, irritation melting away like snow on a summer's day. You had gotten the plans with minimal casualties, so why waste the evening on some smudged feelings? Cerulean eyes scanned the scroll with careful attention, and you had to force yourself not to preen when his gaze turned slightly awestruck. "This is... everything. I don't think you could have done better."

"You think?" You parroted, still wearing a wide grin. It wasn't that he never tossed compliments your way, but this went so much further than your daily encounters. The night hardly felt cold when he was so close, though you wouldn't mind wrapping yourself up in that scarf of his. "Is the night over or am I required to flirt with more merchants to earn my keep?"

Warriors regarded you with a flat expression, looking seconds away from rolling those beautiful eyes of his. "Tch. If you think I'm going to let anyone else disrespect you like that again, you've got another thing coming."

Your smile was good-natured, even as you leaned over to sling an arm across his upper back, nudging him to walk with you, which he did without complaint. "My hero. Let's head back, yeah? I'm starving."

"Starving?" for a moment, you swore there was a glimmer in his gaze. A arm settled around your own back, so light that you hardly felt it. "In that case, allow me to escort you back, fair maiden."

You smacked his shoulder with a snort. "Pfft, save it for the girls back home, flirt."

"What girls?" he joked, but there was something far less teasing in those eyes of his. You tried not to think of that night.

You tried.

And failed.

The feeling of his soft, wine-stained lips was still fresh in your mind, as were the gentle hands holding your cheeks and the warmth of his body pressing you to the tree. There was nothing remotely platonic about that night, and yet, you dared wonder if it was all a fluke, a drunken mishap that he hoped to erase from your minds. You didn't even remember being that buzzed, just hopefully tipsy in a way that made your toes tingle and your heart beat a bit harder in your chest.

There were lines, you knew, but the scariest part was that you had no idea how many either of you were willing to cross.

You were torn from your thoughts when the Captain called your name, soft enough for only your ears to register. His arm drew a bit closer, letting you feel the respectful press against the semi-exposed skin of your upper back. It was such a stark difference from your reaction to the merchant's touch that you would have fallen back into wondering had he not been staring directly at you with... what was that emotion. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you said on reflex, only to freeze when he unlooped his scarf from his neck, setting the warm, soft fabric atop your own shoulders, deftly adjusting it so that it sat perfectly on your frame, not unlike a great billowing cloak. You were hit with the overwhelming urge to smell it, but held back at the last second, fingers fiddling with the embroidered end. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Warriors responded with a soft smile that you couldn't decide fit his face or not. His cheeks were flushed the softest pink, and you had a hard time believing it was from the cold. You turned a corner, joining a slightly busier street. "You look stunning, by the way... I don't think I ever told you."

He had, but you weren't about to tell him. "You don't look too bad yourself," you nodded to his outfit and grinned. "Do you wear it on all your espionage missions or am I just lucky?"

"Actually–"

"Hey! You!"

Your head whipped around as a shout tore through the street, stiffening when you recognized the merchant from earlier. "Shit," you hissed, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you. The man looked unfathomably angry, four lackeys at his heels, and you really didn't want to fight in a dress and heels. "Run?!"

Warriors' eyes met yours and he nodded. You yelped when the hand hovering over your shoulder clamped down, forcing you to pivot slightly as he scooped you into his arms and took off down the street like a keese out of hell. "Wars–!"

"Stay still," he huffed, turning a corner in a move that nearly gave you whiplash, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for some semblance of stability. There were several gasps from the townspeople as the Captain barreled down a couple of alleys, holding you close as his scarf flapped in the wind like the tail of a bird. After what felt like an eternity, he slowed to a jog, head swiveling to gauge your surroundings. "Do you see them?"

"No," you whispered back, canvassing the street with keen eyes. "I think we lost them."

"Thank Hylia," he breathed. You did the same, too high on adrenaline to register the suggestiveness of the situation. "I think that's enough excitement for today."

"You think?" You asked, somewhat sarcastically before your tone grew serious. "No, seriously, if I don't get out of these heels soon, I might actually ruin both our reputations... and status as law-abiding citizens."

"You? Law-abiding?" he chuckled, eyes glinting with amusement. You wanted to kiss and kill whoever taught him to apply eyeliner like that. "Never heard that one before."

"Because it's implied, you wet rag," you smacked his shoulder, huffing as the breeze hit the bared skin of your arm. "Hylia, it's freezing. Maybe Wild would have been better for this."

The Captain arched a perfectly-manicured brow. "Didn't you say he would have set that merchant on fire?"

"Didn't you say he should have?" you countered without missing a beat.

Warriors grumbled, averting his eyes. He began to walk, and you could say with absolute certainty that you had no idea where you were going. "Are you going to put me down or...?"

"Or?"

"I can walk," you huffed.

"And I can carry you."

Your scowl deepened, eyes narrowing. You were upset, and neither was he, but it was more fun this way. "I will break your arms."

"Kinky."

A long-suffering sigh slipped past your lips as you briefly, seriously considered throttling him. However, he had technically saved you–twice, but you would rather die than let the little bastard know–and you would hate to get blood all over that scarf of his. "At least buy me a drink first, weirdo."

Warriors made a curious noise, not rising to the bait like you expected him to. His gaze flicked to the left, head tilting as a grin split his features. "There's a tavern," he told you; seriously, thoughtfully. "And I promise you won't have to flirt with any old rich merchants to have a good time."

"Oh, so now you're saying I can't have fun?" You joked, and he snorted good-naturedly.

"My deepest apologies, I assumed you were a person of high-standing–"

You smacked his shoulder. "Oh, I'll show you high-standing–!"

Warriors didn't flinch. In fact, he almost seemed to enjoy the banter, if his widening smile was of any indication. Weirdo. "I'll take that seriously when you find a way to be taller than me."

"That is not a problem, I promise you'll be just fine without your kneecaps–"

You cut yourself off when he began to laugh. It wasn't mocking; rather, the opposite, a sound of pure delight that had you blinking in surprise. His hold on you shook withe the force of his chortles, head tilted back, neck bared, adam's apple bobbing. You tried not to look. You really did, chewing your bottom lip in an attempt to remain unbothered.

"Yeah, laugh it up, you weirdo...."

It was a losing battle.

After a few minutes, the Captain seemed to regain control of himself, though it did nothing to quell the dumb grin spreading across his face. "Now, about that drink..."

You rolled your eyes. He was cute, but not that cute. "Don't push your luck, Captain."

"...I can't believe I let you drag me here."

"Hm?" Warriors' gaze, which had previously been focused on the grimy ceiling of the tavern. Cobalt eyes sparked with mirth, and you immediately regretted opening your mouth. "That's funny, because I could have sworn I carried you."

"Tomato tom-mat-o, Cap," you waved a hand and took a perfunctory sip of your drink as an excuse to not look at him. Until he did the same, and you got another eyeful of mug he had been nursing for a solid fifteen minutes. "You look like you're preparing to have your heart broken."

"I'll be fine so long as you're gentle with me," he winked, and while you knew it was suppose to be a joke, there was little you could do to stop the clenching sensation in your chest.

You gulped down the rest of your drink, placing the now empty mug onto the counter with a slightly violent thunk. "You're an idiot," you told him; matter-of-fact, testing. "Or is it the other way around?"

Warriors' gaze sharpened. Suddenly, the tavern didn't feel quite as bad. Suddenly, you were wishing there was a bit more noise to distract you. Suddenly, you wondered what this drink would taste like on his lips. "What do you mean by that?"

This was dangerous, you knew, yet you would be a fool to stop, when it felt as though the stars themselves had aligned to grant you this chance. "I mean," you paused, wishing you had a bit left in your mug to fill the silence. "Is it me or the alcohol, Link?"

His lips parted, then closed. The Captain's eyes narrowed as he leaned an inch forward, expression far too serious for what likely looked like the beginnings of a tavern hook-up to anyone who was watching. "You're not drunk," he said; too pointed to be a question, and too soft to be a statement.

"Not yet," you shrugged. Should you call for another round? Did you need another round?

"Then why," there was a pause; a long pause, one that had your hands fidgeting in your lap, head held high in a manner that felt more exposing than anything. "Did you think it was the alcohol?"

It was as if the scarf around your neck weighed a thousand pounds.

Your sigh was soft as you combed a bit of your hair back. Back-and-forth was exhausting. "I'm not in the mood for games, Link."

"Neither am I," he responded quickly, to-the-point. You readjusted your butt more firmly against the seat.

A beat passed. It was a long beat, one that made the silence only more profound. You were no longer sure if this was a good idea; you had never known time spent with him to be so loaded, so... uncomfortable. Why were you uncomfortable?

From across the counter, your eyes caught with the blonde barmaid. She was watching you, hands frozen on a spotless glass, eyes flicking to Warriors. An eyebrow arched. She waited.

All you had to do was scream–

With a sigh, you let your gaze fall back to Warriors. If he noticed your poignant eyeing with the barmaid, he said nothing. He didn't need to, because you knew he wasn't like the others. Captain Link of Her Majesty's army was a good man.

Cocky, but good.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, no less redder than when Wild sat you down to apply it. "Are you going to finish that?" you jerked your thumb to his mug.

"Depends."

He didn't elaborate.

You let yourself lean an inch forward, hands on the middle of your thighs. It was no one's goddamn business if the action caused your chest to plump under the fabric of your beautiful, terrible dress. "On what?"

There was a light stiffness in his tone. "Whether you'll stay here and enjoy it with me or not."

Ah.

"What?" you could believe yourself, though it remained to be seen whether it was for rising to the bait or how pathetically biting your response came out as. "Trees are too good for you now?"

Your attention was rapt when he took a long-awaited sip. The mug was placed on the counter with a heavy thud. Warriors folded his hands in his lap, somehow managing to look both regretful and pleased. "Everything's too good for me."

You couldn't resist. "Even me?"

Cobalt eyes pinned you where you sat. Was it hot in here or was it just you? "Especially you," said the Captain, and you remembered hands, tangled in the mesh of your hair, and lips, sealed over yours like they belonged. Maybe they did.

That was it. You were done. Warriors blinked, caught off guard, when you reached across the counter, grabbing his mug. You took a long, slow sip, letting the alcohol burn all the way to your heart, as if that would give you the bravado needed to conquer a man like him. "Uh–"

"Link."

He was a bit closer now. You could have kissed him if you tried.

"Yes?"

You swallowed. You licked the plump of your bottom lip. Now or never. "If you don't kiss me right now, I'll find someone who will."

It happened in an instant; a hand shot forward to cup the back of your neck through the scarf, coaxing you forward, as a pair of lips bridged the gap. You grabbed his shoulders, fingernails clinking on the polished metal of his left pauldron, and it was the most perfect sound in the world. Warriors was warm, and a bit wet, but he tasted sweet, a soft undertone of strawberries beneath the lull of mediocre alcohol. When he pulled back, your heart thumped at the rose imprint your lipstick skewed across the planes of his own lips.

He was beautiful.

But he wasn't yours.

"I think," you paused; for breath, for moral support. He was watching you, so carefully that not even a fall could break your heart. "We should get out of here."

Warriors reached into his pouch. Warriors plopped a fat red rupee onto the counter.

You caught the blonde barmaid's approving thumbs-up as you left.

A bit ambiguous, but I'm still proud of this!

[pillow-priestess]

What You Really Are

2.3k word story about a proud fae recognizing a 'human''s lack of humanity, and treating it accordingly by welcoming a new pet to Her estate. Content warning for one quickly quashed moment of suicidal ideation.

SNAP.

The grand double doors of the manor swung open behind me at their Lady’s beckoning, letting a rush of cool air into the entrance hall. With a sadistic smile and a glint in Her caprine eyes, She materialized a silver spear from the air, gripping the haft and slamming it twice on the stone floor, creating two deep echoing booms that made me jump a little. Distantly, I could hear the baying of hounds. 

“Well? The Hunt has begun, little guest. You have ten minutes to flee into the forest, before my pets and I allow ourselves to follow. They’re already counting down, so I’d pick up the pace if I were you.” 

The sheeplike fae smirked, obviously looking forward to the inevitable end of Her Hunt. 

“Show us a good time, and perhaps I’ll grant you a place in the kennel! Otherwise, it’ll be straight to the kitchens for… tonight’s…”

The expression faded, Her divine face shifting into a quizzical look as She realized I hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked behind me at my supposed escape offer. I simply stood, shoulders sagging, tiredly meeting Her gaze. I knew this wasn’t how it’s supposed to go. I should be reinvigorated, adrenaline should be pumping through me, I should be running and bounding and grasping and clawing at the chance to survive and escape Her realm. But it wasn’t happening. I was exhausted. Not even this could change that. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but had to cough before I could even get some words out. It was dry and rattling, but was enough to clear my throat, at least.

“Just… get it over with. I’m not gonna give you a good hunt. I can’t,” I sighed. I was tired before I’d stumbled my way into Her woods, and being welcomed into Her manor only exacerbated that. I found my eyes sweeping the hall again, taking in the pastoral paintings, the soft carpets, the plush furniture. All things that a true Lady of the Fae would use to decorate Her estate, and all things that would be more than welcome back at my home. Looking at them exhausted me. Even if I made it back to the human realm, even if I went back to my life and my job and my little apartment, I’d never be able to stop thinking about how nice this place seemed. How I’ll never be able to afford anything of this quality. Given the choice between that and a quick end at Her feet, well…

“I’m… sorry, I guess. Clearly you enjoy this. But it’s just not worth the effort for me. I couldn’t give you a good time if I tried,” I looked back to Her, and found Her emotionless expression matching my own. “I hope I at least make a good meal for y-”

SNAP.

The doors closed smoothly, with none of the dramatic impact they’d had before. She released Her spear, and it dissipated into the aether it’d come from. Her hooves clicked softer than they should have on the stone as She took three slow steps towards me. The Lady towered over me, at least twice my height, but She crouched down to lift me up to Her in a hand big enough for me to sit on. Despite my exhaustion, a twinge of fear rippled through me, but Her other hand gently gripped my shoulders from behind to ease my shiver. She was about as warm as I expected, given the well groomed light brown wool that covered Her arms and legs. A finger tilted my head up, not letting me look away as She got a close and deep look into my eyes. No, not into my eyes - into something deeper, behind them, within me.

“Oh,” She muttered, eyes lighting up as She realized something. “Oh. I see. I understand now, dear. I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

There was a gravity behind Her words that resonated deeper within me than I expected. This was a different side of Her, now, one that wasn’t normally shown to humans. A true Lady would never admit wrongdoing to something not of Her home, something so beneath Her. So why was She apologizing to me? 

The hand that wasn’t holding me swiveled around my head, and two digits pressed into my scalp and rubbed themselves down my neck and back. I shuddered, and it wasn’t from fear this time. Her touch was so firm yet comforting, and that warmth of Hers seemed to bloom down my spine in a gentle wave. There was a light, soft, musical noise between us, and it took me a second to realize it had spilled out of my mouth. 

“Wh… what do you…?”

She stopped me with another long, drawn out stroke across my back, and I almost gasped at the pleasure.

“Shhh. Don’t speak, little one. You don’t deserve to put yourself through things that don’t befit you.” 

Something about that was like a dam breaking in my mind. I didn’t need to speak? It was an odd thing to hear, but inexplicably welcome to my tired brain. I grunted, nodding, and nuzzled into the next couple pets She deigned to give me. 

“Yes, I see now. You wouldn’t make a sporting Hunt at all. I only hunt humans, those silly little things; they make for the most entertaining game. Few escape, and most are ultimately made tired enough to give in and accept a life as one of my pets.” 

She was talking more to Herself than to me, and my mind barely processed most of the words. They were like a blanket running over my brain; soft, comforting, but nothing that I cared to stop and grab and focus on. At least until the end. Something about… ‘life as a pet’...? 

She noticed me stirring, and graced me with a beautiful smile. 

“That’s right. You don’t need to go through all of that. You’ve never been human, have you? You wear their form, but not by choice. It’s wrong on you. It’s a performance. Like a hound standing on two legs to please its master. But it gets so tiring after so long… and you’ve never truly been rewarded for it, either…” 

That got my attention. What was She talking about? I… of course I was human. I spoke human words and thought human thoughts and worked a human job and engaged in human society, just like a good human is supposed to. Sure, it was tiring, and I’d been struggling to stay afloat since the beginning of adulthood, but that’s life, isn’t it? 

“No, dear. That’s not what life is supposed to be. Not even for most humans, and certainly not for an animal like you.” She punctuated the statement with a hug, pressing my body into Her chest, rubbing my front into the silken fabric of Her long dress. It felt divine enough that I didn’t even consider the fact that She’d somehow read the thoughts right out of my mind.

“And I couldn’t live with myself if I was needlessly cruel to a poor little animal shivering on my doorstep…” 

Her words’ nuance to me was starting to dissolve, again. I was comfortable here. Warm. Safe. Held. That’s what mattered. She wasn’t going to hunt me, and She wasn’t going to let me go back to that old life, either. She’d seen some kind of undeniable truth about me, and the way She was treating me, I didn’t see any reason to fight or question Her. Especially when being held like this was preferable to mustering any energy to move around. 

She turned, still cradling me, starting to walk deeper into Her manor. Her hand continued to stroke and pet me, keeping me pressed into Her bosom, nice and warm and comfortable as She carried me into the unfamiliar. Even as She stepped onto the soft carpets of the inner halls, the soft footfalls of Her hooves still seemed as powerful and attention grabbing as the clacking they made on stone. I could hear other footsteps passing us in both directions, the clink of jewelry, the ruffling of dresses, quiet greetings and gratitude offered to Her that I never fully processed. She met each of them with an approving nod, but only continued to mutter to me, soothing me with a constant stream of words. 

“Now, the question lies, what exactly are you, hm? Normally, visitors from your realm become one of my hounds, and live a most entertaining life throughout my estate. They play and hunt and entertain my guests, but I suspect that that life might be a little high energy for you. No, you’ll be a different kind of pet, I think.

Perhaps a cat? There are several that wander my grounds or accompany my daughters. Cats have all manner of dispositions, and a little thing as soft and warm as you would fit in well… but not perfect. No, I don’t think you’re a cat, either. Too independent.” 

I found myself agreeing with every word. Maybe I would make a good pet. She was already being so nice to me, and I didn’t even properly belong to Her yet. The idea of staying with Her forever, to be adored and doted upon, as a simple animal in Her care… the exhaustion gripping my body had fully shifted from stress to need. 

“Not a bunny either, or a ferret. Much as I’d love another adorable little fuzzball for my collection, I can’t exactly see you zooming about in a playful frenzy, dear. No…” 

I heard the creaking of a wooden door, and my Lady took several final steps before sitting and sinking into a large plush armchair. With a lap to better hold me, now, She pulled me out of the indentation I’d made in Her dress to lay me across Her thighs. I dazedly blinked up at Her, eyes adjusting to the dimmer candlelight of what was clearly a private room. She smiled warmly down at me, once again filling me with that lovely warmth of simply pleasing Her. Yes, that definitely confirmed it. I was made to be Her pet. 

Sensing my renewed understanding, She began to pet me with both hands, one continuing to rub down my head and back while the other traced circles over my stomach. I moaned with pleasure, doing my best to nuzzle into Her touch, lightly squirming to help Her get my most sensitive spots. The motion seemed to inspire something in Her, and Her smile glinted with satisfaction. 

“Ah! Of course, it’s so obvious! And exactly the kind of pet I need, to boot!” 

I whimpered in Her lap, anticipation building for Her verdict. I needed this. I needed to be told what I am. I’d waited so long, pursued the wrong answer all my life. This is what I deserved. Becoming Her perfect pet would be the kind of freedom I never had the space to search for. 

The hand behind me cradled my head, and I gasped as She brought me up close, filling my vision with Her divinely beautiful face. She drew a finger up my collar, up my neck, stopping at my chin with a pointed nail pressing into my chin.

“You,” She stated firmly, without any room for doubt, “are my beloved, prized, gorgeous snake.” 

I was, I am, Her snake. The concept had never entered my head before that moment, but it shattered any remaining delusions like a bullet through a window. My body tingled all over, shuddering at the sensation, yearning to be granted my true form at Her desire. And, as She continued to cradle and explain to me, I began to change. 

“It’s so simple, but so perfect, isn’t it? You’re not loud, or haughty, or excitable. You’re soft. You’re content with me, on me, around me. All you need to do is keep warm and fat and satisfied, and I can provide you with that for as long as you live.”

Feeling had left my limbs. My skin was shifting, stretching, reshaping itself at Her unspoken command. I couldn’t stop staring at Her loving face, even as the perspective and colors through which I saw the world changed alongside my body. 

“And such a pretty snake you are, too! Those gorgeous glimmering scales, such a perfect orange and white to complement my wool… oh, and look at how big you’ve grown in my care! You could wrap yourself all around my forearm, now, couldn’t you?”

She was right. My scales were beautiful, so soft and shiny for my owner. She’d taken such good care of me, and wrapping around Her to show my gratitude always felt divine! I happily, lazily slithered around the hand that had been holding my head, then down Her arm and back up again, nuzzling Her palm and tasting it with flicks of my tongue. My heightened sense of smell meant that I constantly took in Her scent, and it felt wonderful to my little snakey brain. It felt right. It was where I belonged. 

I was rewarded with more strokes down my head and upper body, and with a practically glowing warmth from Her body heat that more than made up for my lack of it. She cooed over me, Her newest pet, standing back up and bringing me up to Her face for a kiss on the snout. I submitted happily, coils loose on Her arm with contentment, elated to be Hers in body and soul. Her hand shifted to one of Her great curling horns, touching it with two fingers in a gesture I already understood to mean ‘move here.’ I slithered off of Her wool and onto the curving keratin, practically a playground for me to wrap myself over and around. 

As She left Her private room with me proudly displayed amongst Her horns, I snaked my way over to Her ear, curling around it lightly and nuzzling my head underneath. I couldn’t see from this angle, but I knew She was smiling at me. 

She always would be. 

She always is. 

I couldn’t be a luckier pet. 

[lumdays]

please notice me, prince!! ♡

au by @alli-ily << i've been meaning to join this au for a little while now hehehe

*click for better quality LMAO,,, sorry i have no idea why it's so fucked up but i did transcript the important stuff down here if you want

sir? dame? siyun (aka azul's worst nightmare)

"though they are very capable, they're quite unpopular with nobles as they tend to disobey even direct orders if they figure that there is a more efficient way to do things. they're also a little too honest for high society's taste."

siyun hails from far away lands, practically another world (hehe nod to them being a yuu). it is known that they have two younger siblings and that their parents are both well but it seems that they are no longer in contact.

...ashengrotto despises them (they give him SO many headaches, FREE HIM 🙏🙏)

some more stuff utc,, ARGHHH I BRAINROT OVER AUS LIKE THIS SO FAST💔💔💔 it's the evil manhwa lover in me

ALRIGHT SOOO.... the reason why i keep mentioning azul is because In My Head (please correct me if i'm wrong/you don't want me making up stuff HELPPP i didn't know what to go off aside that there's a bunch of kingdoms and nobles), he was accused/is suspected of embezzlement and siyun was dispatched to monitor him.

...they might as well be the bane of his existence honestly. embezzlement is likely the one crime he has yet to commit but with a highly competent knight keeping a close eye on him, it's gotten a lot harder for him to do anything that is remotely not outstanding-member-of-society material, which pisses him off to no end (...that's kinda just his own assumptions though LMAO, siyun does NOT care that much about the matters of some rich merchant,, unless someone gets hurt that is).

ANYWAYS. this made me think i should probably write down how they feel about lady ariya and prince shin

starting with lady ariya

siyun truly admires her resolve to clear her family's name. but they also can't help but feel something akin pity for her, the path she chose for herself will be long and arduous, especially alone—very few manage to walk out, head held high and pride intact. still, she seems like a promising young lady and siyun is a hopeful person, "i will assist you should you ever call for me."

prince shin (@liyuviq)

humble beginnings, big responsibilities. it's a bit presumptuous, but siyun sort of relates to the illegitimate prince. perhaps not fully—they never experienced Suddenly Being A Royal and sincerely hoped they never would, even in another universe. however, they can relate to the whiplash, the struggle to cram into a few months—no, weeks—everything the other nobles learned over the years, the stares, the whispers... they remember how it all felt, and when they look at their highness shin, they can only hope that they will rise through it all. "then again, i do know i am not your highness. perhaps you don't feel even a fraction of the dread that filled me back then—i would be very glad if so."

i hope i'm not overstepping 👉👈,, aghh also open for interactions for anyone interested hdhdhhdshd, i haven't checked the tag yet HELP

as for the hypothetical target of their affection,,, i fear it may be butler jade 💀💀........... I'M A SUCKER FOR BUTLER X KNIGHT ARCHETYPE 💔💔💔ALSO I BRAINROT OVER YUNDE 2MUCH💔AH AND quick lore rundown

i imagine their knighthood still stands in another empire—or kingdom,,, sorry my knowledge of the world building here is a little vague HDUAJHF. anyway the point is that they are skilled enough for the royal family themselves to take them under their heavy golden wing—until the ashengrotto accusations and they're given bits and pieces of their freedom back.

I'M REALLY SORRY MOOTS THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ON AND ON..... but like this au's really sick‼️‼️‼️ tags - @heyhellohihowareyou @elenauaurs @distant-velleity @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @skriblee-ksk @sickle-stick @puowei @jadelover69 @tixdixl @nemisisnemi @angelwishess @theleechyskrunkly @chillygourami @bunniehunn @cheerleaderman UUUH DID I FORGET ANYONE.....

[daysoftheyears]

This is my first Hamzah fic ayeeee!! based off a request I got: "OKAY! what if helping Hamzah bleach his hair and it became something domestic. the reader thinks it would be ugly, but then the reader did not expect it to be so good 🙏"

Please let me know if you like this or theres anything I can change or fix

words: 700

Enjoy!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆

It had been a month and a few weeks after Hamzah had shaved his head and his hair had started to grow back pretty fast. You and him went out for dinner and he proposed an idea. 

“So babe, I was thinking that since my hair is growing back-” He paused and looked at you, as you bit into a burger. He continued his sentence, “Would you perhaps bleach my hair for me?” He smiled awkwardly at you, not knowing what you would say. You stopped chewing and looked at him. “Bleach? Your hair? Hamzah-” You went to go lecture him but he had cut you off. “Look babe I know what you're going to say but it would be cool and it would look good for the fight.”

You looked at him, almost a look of pity., “Hamzah I think it's going to look bad and like if im the one doing it I don't want to be responsible for making you ugly.” 

“It wont look ugly bro I promise! Pleaseee.” He jokingly made a pouty face like a kid would make after you told them no to candy. “We’ll see Hamzah” the rest of the night went smoothly and the subject wasn't brought up again.

The next morning you awoke to Hamzah shaking you up. 

“Babe c’mon get up bruh” You had sat up and rubbed your eyes, picked up your phone to read the time. 11:06 AM. “What do you need Hamzah?” He ran into the other room to grab something. He came back not even a minute later with a grocery bag with mystery items. 

“Look what I got.” He said with a smirk. He pulled out a bleach kit and some extra gloves. He threw them in your hands and smiled. “Bleach my hair now please.” Your tense shoulders had dropped following up with a sigh. “Hamzah, ill do it but I don't want to look at you after.”

“It wont look bad trust, I put a blond tiktok filter on last night so I basically know.” You held in a laugh and told him to wait 30 minutes. 

You sat him down in the bathroom and read the instructions for the bleach. “You’re gonna look like that one wig you have.” You laughed, “Stop you’re scaring me!” 

You put on the gloves and mixed the bleach together with the end of the brush. “Im not ready for this baby.” 

“Just dont fuck it up please.” He smiled in the mirror as you applied the bleach all over his hair. You wouldn't say it out loud, but you thought it was coming out nice. You took some pictures as he let the bleach sit in for half an hour. “Are you ready to wash it out?” you asked him as you started the shower. “Yea, do you think I'm gonna need to tone it?”

“I don't know, I've never bleached my hair before.” 

He stuck his head in the shower and you began to scrub his hair and wash the extra bleach out, 

“Hamzah, it's actually looking pretty good so far.” He couldn’t see you, due to his head being held under water, but you were smiling ear to ear. 

You finished washing it out and he dried his hair with a towel. Once it was fully dry you took a good look at him and his new era. “Yea you're definitely going to need some toner.”

“But it looks good tho, no?” He asked you with a goofy smile. “I guess.” You jokingly eye rolled giving him some sass. “Girl bye.” He copied your gesture, rolling his eyes playfully. “Im just joking! I think it looks handsome.” You whispered the last part and he put his hand next to his ear as if he didn't hear you. “Im sorry, you said what” His face was filled with amusement. 

“I said I think you look handsome.” You repeated louder. “And you thought it would look bad boi.” He leans down and kisses you, walking out the bathroom and into your shared room to facetime Martin about his hair. You looked in the mirror and sighed happily that you were wrong about it looking ugly.

[overnightheartbeats]

Maybe he agreed, maybe he didn't. Laurel was trying to be hopeful and positive at the thought of the ship being smart, but realistically? Not quite. There was a saying somewhere, about doing the same things and expecting different results. But, they were different people now, weren't they? Slightly different maybe? Watching his lips turn upward with the mention of small talk made her cheeks glow just a smidge brighter. Was he thinking of their early days in school, skipping class and getting to know each other in his car. Her inability to be casual with small talk begging them to just jump in with direct questions. Something she was lucky he indulged her in. Come to think of it, a lot of their story ended with some version of luck.

"I didn't really want to ask either," she admitted, leaning against him. And, sure, she was the more outspoken one about their feelings, rarely shying away from those conversations. However, the thought of bringing up the topic, after all she had put them through, terrified her. "I just...I'm not really sure. I guess I didn't want to go to this stupid Dan date if you and I...well, if we were dancing around anything. You know the whole, ruining something before it even begins."

"Agreed," she said with a resigned sigh. He was right. Nothing and everything has changed, it was difficult to not feel futile. "I suppose the real question is, if it's worth trying." For her? Who sucked at giving up, yes it was worth it. He was worth it. Always. The need to feel him against her was bursting at the seams, her smile growing as she felt his warm hands on her cheeks.

Resting on his lap was security and comfort she had missed. Laurel's nerves were still at an all-time high, even thinking of having this conversation, but his arm around her waist was a good sign they were headed in a positive direction. "I'd like that, we probably still have a lot to learn about each other." Beyond their physical attraction which was clearly intact, she couldn't ignore the amount of years that had passed between them. How much they had changed or remained the same. It was the latter that frightened her, how much had remained the same.

"Okay, old man," she teased in between laughs, shaking her head at his comment. She supposed he was not entirely wrong. They were no longer the 'kids'. "Yes though, I do believe they call it dating." For someone who had avoided everything remotely related to dating, Laurel felt her heart thumping against her chest just with his mention of the word. A mix of anticipation and hopefulness at the thought of this becoming a reality for them. Perhaps it wasn't commitment she feared, just commitment with someone who wasn't him. One slow nod to seal the deal, "I'm okay if you're okay. Slow and dating, we can work with that." It wasn't official, but it was more than she ever thought was possible. And, truly she couldn't ask for more. As long as he knew that she was all in. "And, that means I can tell Dan to piss off." Laurel was curious about the case he had mentioned, the robbery that had hit the news. If he was already in the loop, they were probably planning something big to catch them. A taskforce or something of the sort, but now she was just letting her mind run free. "The only bummer is not hearing about that case, he lets me read those files early, just to pick my brain or whatever." She was not curious enough to join dinner with the man. "But, I'm sure I'll read about it eventually. Enough Dan talk though. Look at us being productive during dinner."

A light chuckle left his lips as she commented about the ship being smart. He had the thought that maybe the ship was the exact opposite. Maybe it was stupid and naive for wanting to sail back into the same waters, but he didn't dare voice as much, not wanting to ruin the decent moment they had been able to create. Instead, Pat nodded in agreement at her sentiment.

His lips quirked upward again when she mentioned how she'd never been good at small talk. Pat could still remember one of the first times before she'd actually agreed to go out with him, them skipping class, sitting in his car and she'd turned to him with such confidence and questioned "What are you about Pat O'Morhan?" It had been a slice straight through small talk and he'd loved that about her, even then.

He watched as she took a second drink from her glass, and he followed suit, finishing his and pushing it away slightly, to give his hands something to focus on, though he was grateful when she spoke again, and he couldn't stop the slight chuckle that fell from his lips at the clear surprise in her tone. "Yeah, well, I wasn't gonna ask." he admitted with a sheepish grin. Sure, he'd been an outright criminal, hell, still was, put in very dangerous situations over and over again, but when it came to feelings, and vulnerability, Laurel was the brave one of the two of them.

"It does, doesn't it. Probably because nothing and everything has changed." he answered, because that's exactly how it felt to him all at the same time. the joy in the one questioned word was infectious and a smile spread over his features instantly. Though, he didn't have the opportunity to answer as she was up and closing any distance between them, her hands finding his cheeks and her lips meeting his. Pat pushed his chair back slightly, his hands finding her cheeks as he returned her kiss.

Had she not pulled away, he would've happily pulled her right onto his lap, though even as she started speaking, she didn't move away from him, and his smile grew as the speed of her words increased. "You're good." He nodded as she spoke, and after she trailed off, he took her hand in his and did pull her into a sitting position on his lap, his free arm moving to wrap around her waist, as his other hand released hers in favor of moving to cup her cheek. "We can take it slow if you'd like." he agreed, knowing it probably wasn't the smartest idea to jump right back into whatever they'd had, especially when he was holding what might be considered more secrets now than he had been then. Yet, the pull and attraction and love he felt for Laurel meant he was aching to do exactly that.

A light chuckle left the man as he tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "I know I've been out of touch a while, but I think the kids still call it dating." he teased, his smirk returning as he looked up at her. "I uh, I'd be okay with calling it that if you wanted." he offered. That didn't exactly mean they were boyfriend and girlfriend, right? Still sans titles, but at least it was something to ensure they both knew that the other was right there and invested, and god damn it if he wasn't whole heartedly invested.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

part i (part ii)

“Spencer - oof. I don’t even want to joke about this round being fiery. You make me laugh, even when I know that I shouldn’t. You clearly care deeply for me and have left me in no doubt that you came to play, but some aspects of your personality give me cause for concern. I’m ready to lead a slightly less wild lifestyle in the future, but I’m not certain that you’d be there with me. So are you a forever or a simply for now?”

“Mister, I have little in the way of notes. While everything else is going great though, your relative lack of attraction for me is a little concerning. I’m more attracted to you than you are to me, and normally I’m the hot one in the relationship! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But even though we’re not each other’s usual types, I think we should continue giving this a chance - and I hope you feel the same.”

“Delphine. You’ve certainly made up ground in terms of romance, and I find you utterly charming. Those above you however have more sentiments with me, so perhaps the solo date next round will give us more quality time together. You’ve also flirted with two other contestants - and caught the eye of our security! - while still letting me know that I’m on your mind. Not everyone can pull that off. [wry laugh] Trust me, I know how difficult it can be to make multiple people feel special. See you next time.”

“Tiago - wait, aren’t I supposed to be the one gifting you something? Nevermind, gimme that.” “We always have a good time together, and losing your HOT HEADED trait has made us even more compatible. However you didn’t make the romance gains that I expected you to this round. You’re still very much in the running - just something to keep in mind for next time. I look forward to you making me laugh - and more - during our date.”

“Pauline, still steady as she goes. While you’re more reserved than some others, you’ve won every single one of your date competitions, and that shows you’re quietly determined in your own way. The difference between you and those ahead of you are romance levels and sentiments, so clearly we need to create some more great memories next round.”

how scores were calculated

Notes: As it would have been more realistic, I gave pixels another formal outfit during this ceremony. Behind the scenes, let's say a haute couture rental company is promoting - and encouraging Lilac's whole sustainability schtick.

I tried to stay true to their style, and their likes and dislikes. The only one who disliked their clothes was my ungrateful pixel - smdh 😅

Also if you see an asterisk next to a sim's friendship and/or romance score, that means they were among the first to max out those and will receive bonus points for them from Round Three onwards (unlucky Pauline just missed out). How many points they'll receive, I don't yet know, as I'll have to play through Round Three and figure out an amount which will neither overpower nor underpower them.

@akitasimblr @igglemouse @changingplumbob @simsfvr @invisiblequeen

[brain4stew]

Y’know what, let me try and make a headcanon, or something out of this myself. Note to self though, that I cannot write for sh-

…. ANYWAY!

Headcanon/something under the cut! ;

• So, let’s start off by saying that, for you to be Eunoia’s bodyguard, we’ll say there’s a special skin for Guest 1337. “Yourself” skin, to be precise. (Like John Doe’s skin.)

• You and Mafioso do not know each other that well, but you both tolerate each other, due to you both working under Eunoia.

• Whenever there is an Elliot with Eunoia skin on your team, they will be highlighted for about 10-15 seconds, at the start of the round, so you can go to them, and protect them.

• (I highly suggest you immediately go find a medkit first however, as apparently… Some of your teammates are greedy for the medkits… Get one for Eunoia.)

• Let’s say that you have gotten a medkit for Eunoia, and you’re about to go back to find her, and give her the medkit. But, all of a sudden, you are being chased, by none other than… Mafioso.

• Of course, you block, punch, charge and do whatever you can, to stall the time for the others, and Eunoia. Eventually, Mafioso goes away from you, presumably to go for another survivor.

• Now’s your chance to run and find Eunoia. You’re at 57%, but you’ll be fine. Eunoia can heal you, you hope…

• Mafioso killed her… You, of course, being devastated and angry at him, you heal yourself up with the medkit you were gonna give to Eunoia.

• When you do finish healing up however, you are the last one remaining of your team, which… Of course you get reasonably annoyed, frustrated and angry about.

• You walk around and try and avoid Mafioso as much as you can, and the potential “pizza delivery”, (other members working under both Eunoia, and him).

• But, of course, he finds you. What do you do? You stall the time, yet again, and try to survive. You do get cornered time from time, but, nothing a little block and punch can handle, right?

• So wrong. He somehow manages to grab your hand, before turning you around, and pulling your arm behind your back.

• This is an unfortunate situation for you, as you know he’s most likely stronger than you. However, you wait for an opportunity to be able to break free, and escape.

• But that doesn’t happen, what does happen however, is that, he, sits down, pulling your arm behind with him. Practically setting you on his lap, as his other arm snakes around your stomach to hold you in place.

• …Seems like you’re stuck, aren’t you, little bodyguard? You wonder, why hasn’t he killed you, when he killed Eunoia. Upon remembering Eunoia dead however, you twist and turn yourself around, and practically pounce and pin Mafioso down.

• He, of course, is in shock. He didn’t expect it, nor did he think you had enough strength to do that. But, he isn’t complaining about the sudden turn of events. He strangely… Likes it. Seeing Eunoia’s bodyguard, the one he tolerated due to their boss’s decision, having HIM pinned down under them…

• But, that’s basically all that happens, for the timer runs out, and you’re both sent back to your lobbies. You, in the survivor lobby, he in the killer lobby.

• You of course, IMMEDIATELY go to find Eunoia, to help her wounds after being sent to the lobby. Who are you to ignore your boss’s wounds, and not tend to them?

• Mafioso however, he does feel guilty about killing Eunoia. But, he can’t seem to get the image of him, under you, out of his head.

• Perhaps he’ll go friendly next time it’s his turn to be killer again… He strangely misses you. And Eunoia, even though, he killed her… Yeah, he’ll go friendly next time it’s his turn again…

((NEVER. LET ME WRITE AGAIN. I DONT THINK IM MEANT FOR THIS 😞😞…))

((But anyway, hope you all like it? 😭 Uhm, any tips for writing would be appreciated, as I want to get ALL of my ideas out of my head. I think I can take requests too, however, I’ll prioritize my current list that I have written before today.))

[crescenthistory]

hello carinaaaa !!!!! happy 2k :) u are one of the sole reasons for the resurfacing of my love for the marauders and i owe you my life for that truly…

could i request an argue for b5 with marlene mckinnon x reader? been thinking about bartender marlene far too often oh my lord… do you see my vision… reader who comes in once and marlene is teasing them all over the place and reader is like oh ok. i guess i am never drinking anywhere else ever again !!

one of the sole reasons?? baby that makes me so happy to hear, thank you so much for sharing<33 i most certainly see your vision and i'm in love with her

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 5 "bar au" with marlene mckinnon

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: fem!reader, use of y/n, alcohol (all characters of age), modern muggle au, flirty!marlene, somewhat shy!reader, background pandalily

wc: 1.2k

You could quite honestly kiss Lily for suggesting going to this place instead of the regular pub at the end of your neighbourhood.

It was quite typical that an all-girls bar would open up in your area and you wouldn't hear of it before months had passed, but alas, you were grateful to finally be in the know. Lily had stressed that it wasn't a sapphic bar officially, but that was often what developed once no men were allowed in.

Safe to say, you were giddy.

When you walked in with Mary, Lily and her girlfriend Pandora, who you were enjoying getting to know at last, you were expecting a fun night filled with giggles and perhaps a bit of flirtation. You were mostly just hoping to spend time with your dear friends and let loose in a safe environment that wasn’t one of your crammed flats. 

Which was exactly what you got, until it was your turn to head up to the bar. Pandora had gone for all three of you the first two rounds, whispering something in Lily’s ear afterwards, and when they turned to you with wide smiles asking you to head up, you honestly just thought it was the usual rotation. It’s only fair to share the burden of shouldering in through past all the tipsy girls strewn across the bar. 

Lily waved goodbye to you as you walked away with your list of orders in your phone, turning to giggle into Pandora’s side. You chalked it up to the first few rounds of pornstar martinis getting to your notorious lightweight of a friend.

You turned away from Lily with a smile on your face – and immediately collided into a solid yet soft surface. You almost stumbled at the impact, but two warm hands came up to stabalise your upper arms. 

“Whoa, hey there pretty girl.” In any other bar, the collison and that sentence might have instilled fear in you, but now you just looked up to be met with a wicked grin on the most beautiful blonde girl you had ever seen. She was close enough that the baby pink streaks in her hair splayed across your own shoulder, almost tickling you. She only smiled wider when she saw you staring. “You in a rush or something?”

“I’m so sorry, I was just on my way to the bar, but was looking at my friend over there instead and I–” 

You were rambling, cheeks increasingly heating up as the woman hadn’t stepped away from you. She looked over your shoulder where you had pointed and let go of one of your arms in favour of waving. “Your friend over there, Lily?”

Through any embarrassment and confusion, you perked up. “You know Lily?” 

“Yeah, we shared some classes in uni.” She looked back to you, smile taking on a lopsided quality. “That would make you the best friend, Y/N, right?”

You had to swallow your reaction at hearing her say your name. “That’s me,” you breathed out. Before you could continue with anything, she squeezed your arm and let go of you, stepping backwards.

“Well, princess, I’m Marlene. You wanted something from the bar?”

To your horror, when she steps away you see her wearing a bar shirt uniform, one of the tight black ones with the logo embroidered over your heart. She swept up some empty glasses on the way, looking over her shoulder to beckon you to follow after her. 

She had to know what she was doing to you as she floated away with you on a leash like this, but your head was too cloudy and heart beating too fast to care all that much to resist it. You just followed with a dazed smile, leaning on the bar as she slipped behind it. 

There were people lined up all around the bar, but when Marlene ducked behind it and put the glasses aside, she only looked at you.

“What can I get you then, beautiful?” 

She had this ability to look right into your sould and you had to bite your lip to keep your smile from exploding too obviously. Still, you had teh decency to look side to side a bit shyly. “Is there not a line I should be getting into?”

Marlene leaned in closer to you, giving you a conspiratory smile. “I’ll excuse it this once. Payment for knocking into you.”

You murmured something under your breath about “I think I was the one who bumped into you”, but you read the “humour me” plea in her eyes. You could probably read her every last thought with how close she was, and you couldn’t find it in you to mind.

“Lily and Dora wanted some pitchers for the table. Blue Lagoon and Purple Summer?” 

Marlene wrote the order down on a little notepad on the bar before her without ever taking her eyes off of you. It did funny things to your stomach. 

“And you, darling?”

“Could I get one of the house cocktails? The Midnight Princess?” You had no idea where this shyness in you was coming from, but for once it didn’t feel so awkward. It almost gave you some sort of rush.

Marlene grinned at you. “A princess for a princess coming right up.”

It was a marvel to watch how she moved about behind the bar, grabbing all the ingredients and mixing them together as she went. Expertly avoiding her colleagues as she snuck around, it was almost like watching a figure skater in her element. If her biceps flexed beneath her shirt as she shook the mixers, you didn’t take notice of course.

When Marlene placed your drink on the bar, she kept the two pitchers in her hands. Without a word, she pushed the bar open with her hip and passed through it to come over to you.

“Oh, Marlene you really don’t have to–”

She cut you off with a laugh, clearly endeared by your protests. “Oh but I want to. Believe it or not, it’s not every day I meet a girl as pretty as you.”

With warm cheeks and a dry throat, you made your way over to your table where you saw Lily and Pandora grinning widely at you already. Marlene followed close by, you could feel the warmth radiating off her body and heard the swooshing of the pitchers she held.

“Lils, Panda,” Marlene greeted as she placed the pitchers down on the table. She had stopped right beside you, almost as close as when you ran into her earlier. “Here’s your pitchers. You’ve got great taste.” She winked at Lily in a way that felt knowing, conspiratory.

Marlene then turned to you with a pleased smile. “Lovely meeting you, princess. Come up to the bar anytime you need me.”

With a quick press of her lips to your cheek, she was off. You stared after her for a second before letting your fingertips come up to ghost over your cheek.

When you turned to Lily’s hopeful smile, you were placing some pieces together. “That wasn’t normal service now, was it?”

Lily shrugged, as if she had no idea what she was talking about. “Told you you’d like it here.”

[mono-socke]

BI PRIDE !!! ft. my favourite confirmed-to-be-bi-in-the-show characters !!

[ironlamb]

" YOU CONFESSED TO YOUR JEALOUSY JUST EARLIER ." daeny reminds him lightly , her brows arching with it as her lips twitch in response to his smile . although , now with everything that has happened perhaps the confession can be put into different context . " you said you were frightfully jealous of my faster , stronger friend . have you forgotten ?" she finally allows a smile to bloom over her features at his nudge , a huff of laughter escaping her as she bumps into him lightly in return . " by that you mean it is annoying how charming i am ?" daeny blinks at the words , startled by the line of them . her brow furrows a bit in confusion . " i offer because — because you're rickon ." it seems quite self explanatory to her somehow . of course she would offer . it is rickon . is such a feeling not mutually felt ? she's quite sure rickon would offer quite a great many things to her as well . gods , he offered this , this journey , this danger he had put himself in , for her . was it not the same ? " and — " daeny fumbles for words , for how to explain . " as you are rickon i feel quite strongly for you . and about you . " her eyes meet his with the words , her gaze searching even as she tries , " i wish for you to be happy and i wish to make you happy and — " another fumble for words , her brows knitting tighter together to say , " you are very important to me ." her gaze flicks over his features , searching some level of understanding as she says, "i enjoy things very much when i do them with you . and so as such if i were to pick who to do such things with it ... " a shrug that is more a nervous movement than anything else . " would be you ." she has to blink in surprise as her hand is captured , and as a kiss is placed on her finger she can only feel her ears warm in surprise . the warmth of her flush only grows as rickon continues . " i know you are perhaps charming me ," daeny starts with an arch of her brow at his words , her head tilting with it even as she still feels the warmth of his touch in her hand . " but i actually quite like this room ." she lets her gaze travel around the room with the words , thoughtful before she meets his eyes again to say , " under other circumstances i would be quite content to stay here with you i would think . at least for a good amount of time ." it is pipe dream truly . an unrealistic one . she knows they both know that . and yet daeny feels the need to verbalize it all the same . daeny can't help the warm feeling that floods through her at the sound of his laughter , her grin growing impishly as the action rattles their hands on his chest , as giggles escape her as well . she shifts impossibly closer as if proximity will perhaps bottle the feeling . in a way it perhaps does . " i am glad to hear that i am not the only one who struggles with this ." daeny makes a show of sighing , her eyes twinkling before she lightly teases , " although your story is of course much stranger . i accept you all the same ." daeny rests her chin on rickon's sternum as he speaks , feels her cheeks warm once again as he starts . for a moment it seems as if he perhaps gets lost in thought , an act that only makes her impossibly warmer at the concept . and yet the sentence never finishes . daeny didn't even realize she was waiting for the conclusion until it never came . " i — " daenya has to blink a bit to clear her head , shaking her head a little as her brows furrow to say , " what is that supposed to mean ?" the thought that whatever rickon was thinking was deemed better to not tell her only makes daenya feel more flustered in the moment . she smacks her palm down on his chest with not nearly enough impact to actually wound . " you are keeping a great many secrets lately , you know ." daeny huffs lightly , and yet there is no heat in the words . no , all the heat has somehow found its way to her skin . daeny moves to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear in an attempt to compose herself .

and yet it is rickon taking her braid next , him moving to tuck it away . daeny allows her chin to rest on him anew . she can feel his heartbeat thrumming underneath the point of contact . " i do not mind it ." daeny replies gently and honestly as her lilac eyes meet his . she shrugs once again as she sweeps her palm gently over the cloth of his shirt , smoothing over it before she's pivoting to allow the tip of her finger to trace over his collarbone . " and i do not think it greedy ." there's a beat as her fingers trace back and forth over the skin , her eyes on the movement before she shrugs and adds , " ... i do enjoy that it is me you wish to ask ." daeny can only huff as he continues , her fingers rubbing circles into his scalp as she turns her head to rest her cheek on his chest . there is a beat there where she indulges in the rise and fall of his breath before she says , " you tease me ." a pout even as her fingers gently comb through his curls . " i have never pitied you ." she drinks in the closeness for a moment before she's blinking as he continues . the words push her to straighten , to meet his eyes as she says , " it does benefit me ." the words are insistent , and in the moment daeny is quite sure of them . although she cannot say how exactly she is benefited she knows she is . just as she is benefitted now , as they lay together . this benefits her in a way she is quite sure little else can , and yet rickon provides it so freely . she is grateful for it . " it does ." she sighs as she moves to lean on him anew , fingers twirling a curl around her finger to say, " you will just have to trust me on this fact , rickon ." she blinks as he moves to sit up , surprised by the gentle motion even as his fingers move to enter her hair . her brows furrow . " in ... " daeny fumbles a bit for words . her hands , now extracted from his hair , gesture uselessly to say , " such a way ! you must know what i mean , i —" her brows twitch to furrow . " i knew we would be together for the rest of our days . or at least as many of them as we can . and i knew you felt the same ." a nod as she meets his eyes , as her fingers twist a bit as she adds , " and yet this is different than how i thought we may have meant that ." there's a beat there before she meets his eyes meaningfully again to add , " ... but it is alright with me ."

his next words instantly cause her brows to furrow , knitted together gently as her thumbs pass soothingly over the soft downy hairs curling at his hairline . " i like you as you are ," she insists . it is not the first time daeny has extended such a sentiment and she will do so again . rickon was rickon , and she quite liked him that way . for him to be more like her of all people was not something she would particularly long for . and perhaps for that his admiration comes as a surprise . she allows her hand to smooth over his curls as he speaks . her next words are a whisper and they are a gentle one . a hopeful one as she moves to press them near cheek to cheek as she rests her face on his shoulder . her lips press against it in what is not a kiss but could easily become one as she says , " but perhaps things will be good for a long while ." daeny's eyes are bright with the hope . her fingertips comb through his hair , again and again in a soothing rhythm . " perhaps they will remain good forever one day . wouldn't that be lovely ?" daeny's tone is hopeful as she turns her head towards him , her words near murmured into his ear . " you should learn to enjoy it in preparation for that day . because it will come ." daeny's tone is certain . her head shifts a bit in a nod . " of course small things will happen . you will perhaps stub your toe or maybe ... you will find dinner burnt . but there will be a long stretch of good one day and — you should learn to enjoy it before then ." it is her hope really . that one day there will just be a long stretch of good . a great many years of it . perhaps not today or tomorrow but at some point . she does not want to be weighed heavy with dread when that day comes . she wants to enjoy it as it's happening instead of in hindsight . she shifts to accommodate rickon as he moves closer , as he embraces her and tucks his face into her throat . daeny slides a hand up the nape of his neck and into his hair anew as she warms with pride at the words . at the concept that she could offer such help . she tucks her face into his shoulder once more . " ... you help me forget too ." and it is the truth . the heaviness of it all feels far away in rickon's presence . his previous words echo and daeny can't help but think that she has surely benefitted in a great many ways . her words are hushed and murmured against the fabric of his shirt as she says , " ... thank you ."

“Oh you have, have you?” brows rise in question, and a frown is quick to mellow under a smile. “Now what could have possibly made me green with jealousy? I do not recall.” no shortage of things, truly, but he was curious which instances stuck out -- or if it was all spoken in jest. Sometimes it was difficult to tell where the jokes ended and the truth began. “Aye, you’re charming alright." he'll nudge her at that, looking away as he does. "Bit annoying really.” Rickon did not know how to feel, not entirely. He was happy, sure, but a part of him also knew that people often did the same things for entirely different reasons. And it made him uneasy -- the possibility of their reasons being so vastly different, of them meaning vastly different things. “I was hesitant.” he admits, then his eyes will find her a mere moment before they shift back to joint hands. “Most of my life I have been very good at - reading people. At...gauging the outcomes of things. The risks, the rewards..." his voice is quiet and even, as he's letting the words fall off a tired mind. "I cannot gauge you. It's funny I -- I tell myself I know you, but --" a beat "I don't know why you say the things you say or...offer the things you offer...I do not know if --" eyes find her again, narrowed in that thought. "-- 'why' really matters, or not." At the tap against his nose, a gentle grin will appear, and he'll catch her finger to place a kiss at its tip. Quick and sudden. “Good.” he says, letting go only to laugh at her following words. “You do not want to grant me such a permission. Believe me.” his heart is faster, only just, and his skin grows warm beneath her touch. “We will never reach Old Town, if you do.” throat clears. "We'll never leave this room." in a strange way, such a thought comforts him. He did not wish to ever leave this tavern, this room, this bed. Perhaps there was a universe, somewhere far, where they never do. Then a sudden laugh will leave his chest again, moving their joint hands along with the ribs beneath them. "Yes no I fully understand." he says through it and his head nods poorly against the pillow. "Last time I went jousting I almost kissed Ser Rodrick instead, quite embarrassing -- his wife and children were there." Once the jest of it mellows, and his mind shifts to the compliments at hand, he'll assume a common sort of shyness. "Your siblings and…cousins have Valyrian features and yet…" they were not her. They were not so beautiful he could recognise them blind. So beautiful he would choose the sight of them over that of northern lights across the winter sky. Over the sight of sun setting behind the horizon of white snow, painting it red and orange and purple as it settles home. There was beauty, and then there was her. And so he looks at her, letting his eyes absorb features in a manner he had denied them for much too long, and he thinks perhaps this is what eyes were made for. Perhaps it is why he had them all along. A smile will carve into his lips, knowing he could not well say all of that. It was his to feel, to think, to ponder. "I better keep my thoughts to myself."

As those thoughts gather once more to ground him in the moment, her shrug and offer find him both amused at the lips, and sort of confused at the eyes. “How could I possibly ask more of you?” his question is genuine and sweet, they could not truly get any physically closer. And yet, he had wanted it all the same. Whatever 'it' was. “What kind of a friend would I be?” he will take a hold of her braid, moving it back over her shoulder as she lifts her chin to look at him. "I have been much too greedy with you as is." When she speaks again, it is her tone which holds more weight than the words themselves. It helps him understand better, in a way, though it was still not quite enough. “Pity and help…help out of pity -- much like jousting and kissing it is difficult to tell the difference.” smile does not fade, but it does mellow as he says, “I understand though. I think.” he'll sink deeper into her arms, as her fingers brush against his scalp and his body relaxes enough for his words to quiet. “Only -- I do not want you to do...or offer things solely for my benefit. They must benefit you too in, in some way.” Rickon did not much enjoy feeling like he simply took things, with no consideration for the wants of others. Not in general, but especially not with her. Permanency was a concept he seldom spoke of, and yet as she questions him he cannot quite decipher her understanding of the matter which he spoke. “In which way?” he asks, but as he waits for her response he'll move up gently to face her, and his eyes will soften as his fingers sink into the hair braided away behind her ear. “Is that…alright with you?” Her gentleness is soothing, and her words while soft and quiet, do travel deeper than he was prepared for. She had known him, it seemed, known him enough to notice certain patterns, to speak them. His heart warms again at the thought, that she could see him and still want him around. “I wish I was more like you...in that sense." he says finally, frown just as soft, words just as quiet as her own. "I never learnt how to live, not really.” all he knew was to worry, or dream. “It helps, when things are bad, you know?" eyes search for her quick before his head rests back down against her. "Knowing they won’t stay that way. Time changes all things it is...inevitable. There is comfort to be had...in knowing that." a gentle and tired sigh escapes him, as he closes his eyes. "But when things are good…” the same applies. And it becomes harder to absorb the moment, even if such a knowledge makes the moment itself so much...sweeter. If only he could enjoy its sweetness more, and mourn its passing less. “You help, though..." his head sinks then, into the space between her neck and her shoulder, chin rested at the collar bone as his arm wraps around her waist. He can feel the exhaustion overcoming, the sensation of her fingers like a lullaby within his hair, and the words are slow now, slower than before. "I meant what I said, before --" a breath in is quiet and drawn out. "You help me forget...myself."

[orcelito]

Ok I'm thinking about kabuto backstory again and thinking about how unfair and fucked up it all is like

> be Danzo

> threaten local orphanage mother into returning to being a spy (by threatening the kids there)

> force them to send One Kid too because he "lost a man" while obtaining the intel he's threatening her to spy over (the kid is Kabuto, who volunteered bc he overheard them threatening the mother over this) (Danzo knows he overheard)

> train kabuto to be a spy while orphanage mother is off on her long spy job as well

> bait spy mom with the promise of keeping kabuto safe to keep her agreeing to work with you

> decide they both are too good at their jobs (????) Of being spies (that work for you?????)(they've been loyal this whole time????) So they're too dangerous and both need to die

> keep mom and kid away from each other as kid grows up

> literally DOCTOR FAKE PHOTOS of the kid growing up to make it seem like he looks totally different now???? So she won't recognize him?????

> give her the assassination assignment of killing the Real Kabuto (who she won't recognize) so they'll kill each other

> whoops, Kabuto survived and killed her instead, oh well at least Orochimaru's watching him now

I'm just like. How fucked up is it to threaten these people into working as spies for you "for the good of Konoha", and then decide that these people (who have given NO INDICATION of intending to betray Konoha) are too good at being spies and thus Too Dangerous and should be killed for it. But no he can't just kill them in a normal way. He had to manufacture an entire scenario so that they'd kill EACH OTHER while making the mom not recognize him (with the express purpose of breaking the kid's spirit) like BROOOOOO I know you ordered the whole Uchiha clan to be massacred (conducting genocide for the sake of 'peace') actually now that I think about it he ordered this of itachi. Ordered him to kill his own family. Of course Danzo would get off on making a mother and son kill each other "for the good of Konoha" he's almost fucking cartoon villain level of horrible past the point of logic EXCEPT there really are people this awful that have existed. Plenty of them. And they have also justified it as being "for the good of [nation]" like that's the Thing, he's a war hungry nationalist that has decided He Knows Best so he's going to fuck up SO many people's lives, up to and including his own damn citizens!!!! And this bitch thinks he deserves to be kage?!?!?! Fucking Hiruzen letting him run wild like this. He knew Danzo was stealing children and indoctrinating them into a murder cult (where, keep in mind, he purposefully raises kids in pairs so they view each other as family AND THEN ORDERS THEM TO KILL EACH OTHER)(AGAIN!!!! with the family killing, what is his PROBLEM) but Hiruzen just let it fucking happen. Spineless fucking piece of shit. He fucked Naruto up he fucked Orochimaru up he fucked up Royally with Danzo like come ONNNNNNNNNN

Rattling the bars of my cage rn at how awful Danzo is and how he was able to just. DO THIS???? I know the bitch is dead but he's not dead enough. Give me the glock.

[lux-scriptum]

I had to go DIGGING for this, but here, have Cadoc's introduction to the infamous, beloved, adored, dead Dante. This is set some time?? in the 80's? my timeline is. Wonky.

~~~

“Hey!”

Cadoc hunched his shoulders and moved to the side to get out of the person’s way. No one should be that energetic at... he glanced at his watch. One in the afternoon. Still indecent, he decided.

“Hey. Wait.” Someone grabbed his wrist. He flicked a glance down at the hand. Cadoc was pale enough that the man’s brown skin probably looked a few shades darker than it was. He lifted his gaze up to meet the strangers dark gaze.

“What?” 

“Jeeze you’re cold.” The short man was puffing a little. “And fast. You must be half leg at least.” The smile that was offered was blinding. 

“Your point?” Cadoc didn’t have time for this. He pulled his hand from the stranger's grip, finding surprisingly little resistance. 

The young man stared for a moment, before blurting out, “Can I paint you?” Some of Cadoc’s annoyance must have shown, because the stranger was quick to add, “Please? It’s for an art class. I need... I need to do studies of strangers, and... please?”

The guy was cute. Cadoc had to give him that. And he knew how to widen those eyes just right. Combined with the adorable mop of dark curls and soft face, it would have been an effective look on anyone else. 

“No.” Cadoc walked away.

“But!” 

Cadoc kept walking, lengthening his stride rather than deal with the stranger. Any other day and he might have considered it. Aalis took precedence.

Not five minutes later and he felt it again. The feeling of a hand wrapping around his wrist, and the softest of pulls. He snapped his attention to the owner of the hand, resisting the urge to flash his fangs at the human. It was tempting, to see if the young man would jump, perhaps even fall over in his fright, and leave Cadoc free to go on his way unhindered. No doubt it would leave the ridiculous fake mustache the boy was wearing even more skewed than it was now.

“Let go of me,” Cadoc ordered, much more calmly than he felt. The human did, to his surprise, holding his hands up un defeat.

“Please, if you would-”

“No.” Cadoc walked away. He didn't have time for this, no matter how pretty the man’s face was. His reprieve this time was longer, but when the young man showed up this time, it was from the front. He was panting, as if he'd run to pull ahead. He’d tried a mustache, drawn on this time, with a hat pulled down low over his eyes. Less likely to fall off, Cadoc mused, but just as ridiculous as before.

The stranger opened his mouth, but Cadoc beat him to it. “I said no, and no amount of begging or silly costumes will change my mind. Now get out of my way. I have places to be.”

“Please.” The kid took the hat off. “It doesn’t have to be today. You can pick the time.”

Cadoc stared down at the pleading face and bit back a sigh. Did this kid know how devastating those brown eyes were, or was he oblivious to how effective that expression was? “If I say yes, will you let me on my way?”

“If you’d like me to.” A dazzling grin and the slightest of head tilts that sent his dark curls flopping carelessly into the young man’s face were just as effective. Cadoc almost missed the pleased little thank you that followed questioningly.

“Cadoc,” he supplied, stifling another sigh. Perhaps he gave in too easily, but he could only resist a pretty face for so long. 

“Dante,” the young man offered with yet another smile that, at any other time, might have earned him one back. Today, Cadoc merely leveled him a cool look.

“I’ll find you.” Cadoc’s attention was caught by the hellhound heading back in their direction, ears pricked. It’d found something. “Have a good day, Dante.”

Share an excerpt that involves flirting, romance, or attraction.

Maybe it's an established couple, maybe it's a first kiss, maybe it's two characters who hate each other's guts but love each other's butts. This week, let's share some love 💖

(Smooch-free WIP? Here's last week's writers' chat prompt)

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[nostalgia-tblr]

If I could do Fics With A Plot I'd probably attempt An AU Where Lauffey Dies And Odin Goes "Oh Hey, Frost Dudes, I Had Your Heir All Along :D He's Urs Now :D" Except Because This Is A Shit Plan It Does Not Go At All Well. Because it does bother me. Because I worry too much about fictional monarchies having the 'wrong' rules. D: