#regardless of their nightlife

[theloneotaku158]

Kidnapper: "We want the money, or the little girl gets it, Wayne!" Bruce: "Little girl--? Oh. OH. Ohoho, you kidnapped Cass? (ominous chuckling) Have fun sweetie~" Kidnapper: "Wha-- are you insane?! We have your freakin' daughter tied up and--" every thug in the room turns around to find Cass' seat suddenly vacant "--at… g-gun… point?"

Bruce hangs up the phone

All the thugs start frantically searching around the room, wondering where the hell their hostage vanished to.

Cass, lurking in the dark corner of the room, seemingly clinging to the wall above them like fucking Spider-Man: *Prowler.mp4*

Cass strolls back into Wayne Manor like 5 minutes later, just kinda shrugging when Bruce asks if she had fun being in a hostage situation. She doesn't get the appeal.

the batkids getting kidnapped must be such a hassle for bruce cuz he has to play 20 questions just to figure out which kid it is.

"The short one? So not Dick or Jay. Damian is home right now, so not him. That leaves 4. Black hair? Not Stephanie, okay. Looks bored? Honestly, that doesn't narrow things down at all. A girl? Oh, okay it's Cassandra. Alright, tell her to not take too long, dinner is in 30 minutes."

[yogurtkags]

❝ DISTANT DESIRES ❞ — miya atsumu (18+)

cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, pet names (baby, princess, darling), fluff to smut, sexting, sending risqué photos, teasing, phone sex, masturbation, language, dirty talk, not beta read word count. ~ 2.3k synopsis. atsumu’s away and misses the way you feel against his skin before a big game.

shutting down and closing your laptop, you push yourself up from the uncomfortable desk chair, groaning as you twist and turn, popping your neck and back as you stretch the tense muscles. another day at the office, done and dusted.

you switch out your fluffy fox office slippers for the black slingbacks you came in, walking towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the scene before you. the sun has set, the moon slowly coming out to play — it’s a friday night, groups of friends and couples alike take the streets to celebrate the end of a busy work week. city lights shine over the crowded roads, hustle and bustle illuminated by the vibrant colours of osaka’s nightlife.

you’d be one with the crowd below if not for the fatigue of crunch time seeping deep into your bones, it’s been one hell of a day, a week even, you’ve lost all concept of time, feeling a little more drained than usual without your love here.

the msby black jackals have a series of away games in tokyo, so naturally, atsumu’s been away for the past couple of days, and you miss him dearly. you understood why he had to go, it just didn’t make sense for him to make the commute everyday and waste precious time that could be spent resting, even if it meant still being by your side. it doesn’t make you miss him any less though, you’ve never been apart from him for more than a day since he asked you to move in with him two summers ago, and you feel it even more so now that he’s put on a ring on your finger.

casting one last look at the files and mountains of paperwork, you sigh, packing up your things and swinging your tote over your shoulder, preparing to finally leave the office. the rest of the floor is empty and the lights are dimmed, pretty much everyone in the building has already left for the night. honestly you were too busy to even notice, feeling stressed is an understatement with multiple deadlines looming.

bzzt. bzzt. your phone buzzes as you’re exiting the main elevator and walking to your parked car— 2 new messages from tsumu ♡

tsumu ♡ : hi princess tsumu ♡ : i miss you

just his name alone is enough to perk you up and put a smile on your weary face, spreading a warmth in your soul, like a fireplace crackling to life in a chilly cabin up in the northern mountains in the dead of winter.

me : hi baby me : i miss you too :(

climbing into the driver's seat, you allow yourself to sink into the leather seats, quickly shooting him a message that you'll be driving in case you take a while to respond and that you'll text him when you get home, getting the car started and heading home.

in the meantime, atsumu's sprawled out on his back over the plush ivory sheets on his queen bed, fresh out of the shower after practice and dinner with the boys, lazily toying with his phone while staring at the ceiling. he thinks the bed's much too large for just him alone, still defaulting to laying on his side of the bed — it's a force of habit that comes with living together, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scent of your strawberry vanilla shampoo lingering on what would've been your pillow.

he knows you’ve been slaving away at work while he was gone, you’re usually home by now but if you’re only just leaving the office at this hour, you’re probably clocking voluntary overtime just to clear as much off your plate as possible. you never liked bringing work home anyway.

he hopes you’ve been taking care of yourself, not that you don’t normally, but you tend to get stuck in your head sometimes when you’re busy and pushed to the limits. regardless, he always worries, despite you telling him that you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, that he shouldn’t worry his pretty lil head about you.

atsumu thinks he has a growing distaste for away games. they usually mean that he has to be away from you, meaning he’s a tad bit more grouchy than usual, a bit more snappy, much to the team’s chagrin. there’s no point searching the stands for you when you won’t be there, no you to kiss him good luck before lining up, no you to dick down the night before for some fun, overnight loving and a good night’s sleep.

well, lady luck seems to be on his side because little did he know, you’d be coming home to find a very exciting parcel sitting at your doorstep.

you on the other hand, are slightly puzzled. strange, you didn’t receive any delivery notifications, but you won’t say no to a haul. who knows, it might just be what you need at the end of a shitty day, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt nobody.

stepping out of your shoes and leaving your coat hung by the door, you bring the cardboard box up on your kitchen counter, carefully slicing it open with the first knife you could find. with a gasp, you lift up the contents of the box to find a very lovely set of lace lingerie. i forgot i ordered this.

in a burst of excitement, you immediately bring the dainty piece of fabric to the bedroom, peeling off your black pencil skirt and white button up. putting it on, you stand in front of floor length mirror, hands lightly tracing over the fine details of patterned lace in admiration. it’s beautiful, hugging your figure in all the right places, and you happen to know someone who would love it even more.

flicking on the light switch of your shared walk-in closet, your eyes zero-in on a green shoe box sitting in the corner of the room. it’s tucked away, no one’s ever really needed it, the contents being kept more so for nostalgic purposes, but you’re really hoping what you’re looking for is still in there.

kneeling down to open it up, you come face to face with atsumu’s high school jersey. inarizaki’s #7. perfect, just what you were looking for.

with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you put the jersey on. atsumu’s definitely grown larger and more buff in the several years since high school, but he wasn’t by any means small to begin with, the dri-fit material hanging loose on your frame and ending right by your upper thighs.

it unfortunately no longer smells like him, having been kept away for that long, but just a little spritz of his perfume should do the trick. it’s a far cry from having him here with you but it’ll do for now.

crawling into bed and getting tangled in the soft sheets, you raise the hem of the jersey just to tastefully expose your skimpily clad lower half, arching your back just a little and angling your phone to snap a photo. you’ve definitely taken more risqué photos in the past, for sure, but given you were both apart, much farther than just a short drive, you know this will be enough to set him off, leaving just enough room for imagination.

less than a minute after you hit send, your phone rings with an incoming call and checking the caller ID, sure enough, it’s atsumu.

biting back a smile, you feign innocence, propping your phone up between your ear and shoulder, picking at your manicured nails as you lean back against the soft pillows, “hi tsumu, everything okay?”

“come on, don’t play coy with me now baby, with my jersey too? you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

he is, as always, so so easy to rile up.

with a giggle, you egg him on, “i just wanted to show you what came in the mail today, isn’t it pretty?”

“it is, looks ravishing on you darling. you know exactly what i like don’t you? it’s in my favourite colour too.”

atsumu hums in delight, bringing the phone closer to his mouth and voice dropping barely above a whisper and muttering out the next few words, “though i must say, i think it looks better on the floor.”

you can’t help but bring your bottom lip between your teeth, sinful thoughts begin to run through your mind about what the night entails if this carries on. making sure he can hear your pouting through the phone, “mhmm but you’re not here to undress me, strip me of my clothes one article at a time.”

atsumu pictures you in your shared bed, mind conjuring images of you slowly peeling off your clothes, nipples perked as the cool night air hits your skin, peeking through the sheer lace fabric. he was already sporting a semi hard on, the beginning of an erection provoked by the delicious photo you sent earlier.

he can’t help but reach a hand down to touch himself over his boxers, letting out a desperate and breathy whine that you recognise all too well, “s-shit— baby, please, just help me out here.”

your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at the realisation, a wave of pleasure going straight to your heat.

breathing out an okay, you wiggle into a more comfortable position, bringing the collar of his jersey up to your nose and taking a deep inhale of his fragrance, closing your eyes and letting his voice and your imagination do the work for you.

your hands trail down your sides, pulling the delicate panties aside and letting your fingers brush against your clit, folds already glistening with arousal from the mere thoughts of atsumu laying in his bed, naked skin glazed with a sheen of sweat and pleasuring himself to pictures of you.

"talk to me, baby. can you describe to me what you’re doing?”

“touching myself, rubbing my clit.” you gasp, “feels good.”

“yeah? good girl, apply a little more pressure and when you’re ready, put a finger in for me?” he shakily breathes out, "i bet ya look real pretty right now."

you do as you’re told, clenching around your finger, his simple praise shooting straight to your core. oh how quickly the tables have turned, from taunting him to eagerly following his instructions without any second thoughts.

you can almost hear the wet sounds of his hand spreading the precum over his length and his strokes over his cock gradually increasing in speed, his voice breathless and broken,"that's it baby, slide another finger in?”

“that’s my good girl. imagine it's my thick fingers in your pussy right now." you moan at the delicious sensation, eyes squeezed shut as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt. he hasn't been gone for long but you miss him so much, in more ways than one.

“i miss you so much, miss being inside you, your pretty face when you’re moaning my name, hmm?”

reaching up and rolling your nipples through the thin lace, you moan, “i do, i m-hah, miss you too tsumu!”

at this point, days worth of stress melts away as you chase your release, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as the saccharine voice of your lover leads you to an orgasm.

“i can’t wait to get back and fuck you for real, just doesn’t feel the same without you.” it’s almost like his phone is on his pillow right next to his face, sweet moans and groans tumbling out of atsumu’s mouth, straight into your ears, almost like he’s right here with you caged below him, breathing into your neck.

despite the distance, he feels so close, almost like he can touch you if he just reached forward, “keep going baby, don’t stop.”

your orgasm is building much faster than you initially anticipated, pleasure ripping through you as his wrecked voice and whimpering pushes you closer and closer to the edge as tears line your closed lids and threaten to spill over your cheeks.

“a-atsu!” you cry with urgency, grinding your sensitive bundle of nerves into the palm of your hand, barely holding on to the cusp of release. “atsu i’m gonna—“

“come on, let go f'me pretty.”

with a high-pitched cry, your body stiffens and the coil in your abdomen finally snaps, squeezing tight and releasing all over your fingers.

atsumu pictures it all too well, your muscles contracting under soft skin as you cum to his encouragement— that was the last push he needed and he’s letting out a string of expletives and sharp moans, sinking into the pale sheets as his release sputters over his stomach and lower abdomen.

the both of you lay in silence for a few moments, catching your breath as you come down from the high. you hear some movement through the phone, presumably atsumu cleaning up the mess he made on himself, before collapsing on the firm mattress again.

"man, i wish i could hold you and kiss you all over your pretty face." you can even hear the pout in his voice, heart clenching as you yearn to kiss it off his handsome face. all you can do at the moment is hum in response, wrapping your arms around a pillow and tucking your face into his jersey that you still had on, inhaling the scent of his perfume now mixed with your sweat, pretending that he’s here in bed with you.

regardless, you’re spent, the post-orgasm sleepiness paired with the long day you just had hitting you all at once and your eyes flutter shut, softly mumbling with a tired yet satisfied smile, “i love you, atsumu.”

“i love you too, princess.” atsumu sighs in quiet longing, “i’ll see you soon okay? be back before ya know it.”

bzzt. bzzt. just as he’s about to drift off into slumber, his phone buzzes with an unread message from kiyoomi in the adjoining suite next to his— 1 new message from omi-omi

omi-omi : next time you’re calling your fiancé and beating your meat, please keep it down

notes. @atsumou surprise >:) was listening to snooze - sza while adding the last touches reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[cheralith]

runaway prince!gojo satoru thoughts...

a/n: gojo is pretty ooc in this im ngl sorry, heavily unedited, no reader in this (just yet?), is this a prologue? who knows.

runaway prince!satoru who is the crown prince of a kingdom that rules over an abundance of smaller territories. the sovereign gojo kingdom has many lands under its power, under its safety, and they've been known to be the voice of the little guys, guarding them against the more brutish, stronger countries that target them.

runaway prince!satoru whose beauty was so remarkable since birth, his face was enough to cause controversy amongst other kingdoms for their childrens' line in marriage to him. who didn't imagine themselves being not only a part of the gojo kingdom, but a part of the gojo family, especially to be wedded to prince satoru gojo.

runaway prince!satoru whose beauty was so apparent, that those who witnessed him as a young child thought of him to be a child of venus herself. white locks made of freshly fallen snow with piercing azure eyes that shimmered with mischief of some kind, it was impossible to not think he wasn't blessed of some divination of beauty.

runaway prince!satoru whose beauty was enough to almost start two wars against two countries who yearned to be a part of the mighty gojo kingdom. the two rival monarchs nearly called declared war on each other after arguing whose child got to marry the young prince—for not only was it the power of the gojo kingdom they desired, but to have a ruler whose face could calm the seas and skies themselves was a feat that only came once every four hundred years within their kingdom.

runaway prince!satoru whose face began to be hidden behind an opaque veil due to the hysterics that erupted from even one glance a the prince's face. deciding ignorance was bliss, his parents began shielding his face at the tender age of twelve from the public and the castle staff to avoid conniption. his parents also decided it'd be best to shield him away from the outside world until they thought it was ready for him to be crowned king.

runaway prince!satoru whose rumors about him were not unnoticed by the prince as the years flew by. rumors about him being secluded from the public were for a good reason—and though they varied from person to person, all of the rumors revolved around one singular aspect.

runaway prince!satoru whose face was thought to be absolutely horrid, that the queen and kingdom thought best to shield its monstrosity from the outside world. whose face was rumored to be ghastly enough that it'd make ladies faint and babies cry. some say he had a large green boil on his nose that never popped, even though it looked like it was on the verge of doing so. some say all his teeth rotted from all the sugar he ate as a child, corroded and blackened. regardless of what the rumors said, rarely anyone thought the opposite of them. the king and queen took a likening to the rumors, thinking that they would gear away anyone who would pounce on their son for the sake of power.

runaway prince!satoru who saw the world through white lace more than half his life, who rarely ever saw the world outside of the palace gates, leapt at every opportunity to see the world for what it was outside his kingdom. so when a trip to a coastal town that threatened to be under siege from a rival kingdom emerged, his bags were already at the ready.

runaway prince!satoru who was used to being greeted by the waves and confused looks of the many people below his ship as it boarded the docks of the coastal village. careless of what they heard about them, his only concern was that he was able to breathe air that wasn't of his kingdom from the mainland. the fresh salted air rebirthed life again into him, and though he could admire the sea through the fence-like pattern of his veil, it was still a sight he took in with a full heart.

runaway prince!satoru who quietly admired the nightlife of the coastal village's people from the tower of the palazzo of the town's chancellor as his parents talked with him downstairs about obtaining the land under their rule for his peoples' safety. below, he watched as a mother tugged along her son from the display of toys in a window, laughing softly as he escaped from her grasp and pressed his face against the pane. a young waitress looked behind her to see if anyone was watching and sneaked outback to an alley and gave a homeless man a plate full of food. a suited man gingerly held an elderly woman by her shoulders and carefully helped her across a bustling street.

runaway prince!satoru who watched the lights of the lanterns flickering about and the soft music echoing in the nightfall with people dancing to the beat of them. a desire to be amongst them pulled at his heartstrings, and he imagined himself, not as the crown prince of the gojo kingdom, but as their fellow citizen, as their fellow neighbor, as their friend.

runaway prince!satoru who glowered at his reflection in the mirror of the guest room. the veil temporarily off and brushed to the side, he stared at his ivory locks and porcelain skin, the sky that held itself within his eyes. with an allure that most would kill to have, he gritted his teeth, cursing it to be the cause of his sheltering, his isolation.

runaway prince!satoru who caught the gaze of the fireplace in the reflection of the mirror, but noticed not the wispy embers of gold and yellow, but rather the pile of black ashes from the wood and kindling. walking slowly towards it and dipping his fingers, he stared at the onyx fingerprint on his fingertip and rubbed it between his other fingers, now stained as well black.

runaway prince!satoru who carefully reached up to a spare lock of his hair and rubbed the onyx powder on the ends of it, amazed how easily it coated the pallid white a darkened ebony. a flurry of apprehension and excitement stirred within him as he whipped his head to the window that faced the village's people and to the door leading to the inside of the chancellor's palazzo. satoru leapt to his feet and pressed his ear to his door, making sure no one was nearby before locking it and pushing a bookshelf up against it.

runaway prince!satoru who picked up a pile of ash between his hands and shuffled it between his hair, tainting it as dark as the night. embedding the ash fittingly between each strand of hair so that not a strike of white was seen, satoru gazed at his new appearance inside the mirror. the locks of pearl were long gone and replaced with familiar charcoal black that many citizens of his own kingdom adorned.

runaway prince!satoru who cleaned the spare sprinkles of ashes from his face with water from the bathroom and tore off his handmade clothes with symbols of regality, scurrying about the dressers of clothes and plucking out seemingly "ordinary" clothes to wear.

runaway prince!satoru who crawled over the ledge of his window, but not before looking back to the barricaded door and whispering "just this once..." before climbing down and taking off into the night.

a/n: i'm gonna be so fr, i really don't know what's to become of this in the future. obviously yes, reader will be a character in the story, but for now, i have yet to decide if i'll just follow this format or if i'll actually write a fully fledged story about this.

i've mentioned this prompt before, but this idea has been brewing in my mind for quite some time, possibly over a year and a half. it's heavily inspired by roman holiday (1953) with a dash of princess and the frog (2009) and i do think it has so much potential that i might just write about it properly! i feel as though it's too good of a prompt to not. stay tuned question mark? (i say that as though i'm not staying tune for myself as well augh!)

if you do manage to stay and watch me bullshit whatever i have in mind, there will be much more involvement of reader, trust! but thank you for reading regardless!

[juuuulez]

more lip x carmy x reader smut……. consider it not a direct prequel to this piece, but definitely in the same universe.. the start of their shenanigans perhaps.

so lip is your roommate: maybe you’ve managed to wrangle him into moving to a nicer area, someone safer than the south of chicago. it’s got tons of nice restaurants, you tell him! the nightlife is buzzing, public transport is (a little) cleaner, and it’s not even that far from home.

and he comes out of convenience, not because you two are anything special. he’s made that very clear. sure, you fuck around sometimes, and lip goes out of his way to make sure you’re always happy and satisfied and safe, but he’s very apparent about one fact:

lip gallagher does not do relationships.

not with you, not with anyone.

and yet, as he brings home a new girl every second night, you find yourself becoming increasingly annoyed. it was obnoxious, at this point.

the banging of his bed frame against the very thin walls, the clothes you’ll find scattered in the living room. when his fuck of the week comes out for coffee, half naked and clad in one of his shirts.

it pisses you off.

so, you decide it’s time for a little revenge.

it’s fair game, because in your mind, he started it. the plan is to find a guy, someone good looking, ideally, and have the loudest fuck of your life.

you find this man in a bar, somewhere dark with the music not too loud, just enough alcohol in your bloodstream to convince yourself this is a good idea.

tall, chiselled face, strong jaw… spiky hair…. and oh.

someone else catches your eye.

you think it’s lip, for a moment. that he’s predicted your plan and has come to squash it.

except it’s not lip.

his hair is long and curly, reminding you of lip’s from when he was younger, just a little more wild. it makes you yearn for the feeling of it between your fingers, a sorely missed sensation given that now lip insists on the buzz cut.

doesn’t matter, focus!

long story short, you manage to lure this mystery man off, with not more than some batted lashes and a sweet smile. you’d really been expecting more of a fight. regardless, it’s a win.

his name is carmy. so cute. you find it ironic that this guy has a clear aversion towards just using his actual name. and who does that remind you of?

the door closes with a slam, rattling the keys attached to the wall. “shh—” carmy whispers inbetween sloppy kisses, his hands settled on your waist as you tug him further down the hall. “don’t y’have roomates?” he asks.

“roommate, singular.” you mumble against his lips, fingers already working at the thin black tie he’s wearing.

it gets thrown to the floor, along with carmy’s jacket, and your heels. his hands find your thighs, pushing up the material of your dress, fingers hooking into the band of sheer stockings. his mouth finds your neck, mouthing hot and wet against the skin, your hand tugging at his curls.

it ends with your back pressed into the counter, the corner digging in uncomfortably, but that doesn’t matter. as far as a revenge fuck goes, you’re getting lost in the feeling, carmy’s eager hand coming up to cup your clothed cunt.

“fuck.” he grunts into your neck, grinding down against your hip. you wind a hand around to his belt loops, giving a firm tug that only presses his bulge flush with your form.

“jesus fucking christ, are you serious?”

lip squeezes his eyes shut the second he walks through the door, not wanting to see some fucking random rutting against you. there’s a grocery bag in his hand, the plastic crinkling as he tosses it towards the counter blindly, eyes still shut.

the intrusion causes carmy to recoil, his hands moving away from your body like he’d been burnt. a deep red flush comes to his face, made worse as your prying fingers persist, worming their way underneath his dress pants.

“i am serious,” you coo, looking over at lip. “this is my new friend carmy. say hello, carmy.”

“wha— what are you doing?” carmy can only squeak out, this strange mix of embarrassment and arousal thudding through his veins.

your free hand, the one not in his pants, finds the sides of his face, pinching his cheeks between your fingers. you use the grip to tilt his head, making carmy look across at lip.

and.. oh yeah, it’s starting to click now.

because, holy shit, carmy has one thought in his mind: is that me?

well, that thought, and also holy shit, her hand is still on my dick.

and lip’s going through a similar thought process, albeit with more anger, the familiar emotion stirring in his gut and overriding any of that initial confusion, because he knows you, and he knows this is some sick shit you’ve masterminded.

“bedroom, now.” he gets out, voice low and serious and commanding. it sends a tingle up your spine, one of excitement.

and you obey: grabbing carmy’s hand and tugging him along with you, despite the poor man’s confusion. because if you’re gonna be punished, he should too, right?

[killerlookz]

Joost Klein x Goth!Gf Headcannons

content: SFW and NSFW headcannons below the cut, 18+ MDNI, this work contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

SFW Headcannons

You're pretty much his personal makeup artist now, anytime he wants to do his fun little facepaint looks (like the mime or kiss makeup) you're the first one he's asking to help him out

He absolutely doesn't mind you kissing him with your lipstick on and is in no rush to wash off the dark-colored lipstick prints you leave on his cheeks after you do so, sometimes letting them sit there for hours while he goes about his day.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love going to the goth clubs. It's definitely a different speed than he's usually used to, and some of the music may be a little slow for his taste but that man just absolutely loves dancing and the nightlife in general.

He definitely dresses up to "fit in" to go to the goth clubs too! Putting on whatever black items he can find in his closet, usually a pair of rugged black jeans adorned with a thick belt either studded or with a big buckle and some black shirt he spent far too much money on. He usually ends up looking more like he's about to join Opium or Drain Gang than he does goth, but your heart entirely melts at the fact that he's trying.

You absolutely inspire him to buy a pair of New Rocks (side note im actually surprised ive never seen him in new rocks they're very his style lol) and he just absolutely towers over you in them, which he finds very amusing (cue him teasing you about being "short" even though the platforms of those shoes are like 10 cm, making him like 198 cm/ 6'5)

If you are wearing big shoes and they start to hurt he will absolutely carry you back to wherever you need to go- The same goes for if you're breaking in new shoes- you're out and about together and all of a sudden you start treading behind him, walking awkwardly due to the blisters forming on your heels and the backs of your ankles- and he knows, you don't even have to say anything, he just stops dead in his tracks, and bends down for you to get on his back.

Thrifting/ DIYing dates!!! It becomes a tradition for the two of you to go out to thrift/consignment stores and pick out pieces for the two of you to style or DIY into something. He loves it especially when you DIY things for him, and always shows off the clothes/accessories you put together for him, "Oh you like my necklace? Yeah, my girlfriend made it for me."

He laces up your corsets for you! No longer do you need to struggle trying to reach behind your back to tie your corsets. He's always so delicate about it too, "You're sure I'm not squeezing you too tight?" Running his hands all along your sides and your hips after he finishes tying it shut.

He definitely just thinks you are so cool, despite having his own unique style himself, he is just in so much awe of you being yourself, and just genuinely finds you to be the coolest person on Earth, whether its the way you do your makeup, or dress, or the music you listen to, he's just obsessed.

He'll absolutely tease you a little bit though, cue him singing "Because toniiiight will be the noiiight that I will fall for yewwww over agaiiiin" at you because he knows it pisses you off *just a little* you'll chastise him for that being emo not goth, but he still finds it funny regardless, and he loves seeing that little smile you give him when you're trying to pretend to be mad at him, but really you're holding back a laugh

He loves when you wear his necklaces or his fancy belts to accessorize with

Getting tattoos together is a muuuust, he's not so into the idea of matching tattoos, but just spontaneously on a whim being like, "hey do you wanna get another tattoo today?"

NSFW Headcannons

You CANNOT count how many new fishnet tights you've had to buy from Joost being far too impatient to get you undressed, bending you over, lifting up your skirt and just ripping the flimsy fabric open, not even bothering to take them off of you.

However, when the sex is more romantic he absolutely loves taking his time with you, so delicately removing each of your layers (and us goth girlies know... we wear a looot of layers lmaoo) he just loves being all sensual about it, he also just for sure enjoys teasing you with how excruciatingly slow he is about it.

Loves seeing how much he can ruin your makeup, whether its smudged lipstick or eyeliner dripping down your face, the messier the better.

In addition to fucking up your makeup he loves when you go down on him while you're wearing lipstick, the way your lipstick smears as you take him in your mouth, god he finds it so hot.

Obsessed with when you wear leather or latex!! Oof the way the tight, shiny material hugs your body, he cannot get enough, and honestly is ready to take it off of you the second you slip it on.

He absolutely adores you in lace too (especially black lacey lingerie) when you wear lacey tops with nothing but a bra underneath... (same can be said for a fishnet top) oooooh girl he is absolutely feral, the way you're technically "covered" but still exposed in all the right spots... whew

If you have long/pointy nails he looves feeling you dig them into him as he fucks you,

Whenever the two of you go out to the goth clubs things definitely get very steamy, always ending up with his arms wrapped around your waist and your ass pressed against his crotch as your bodies move together to the dark, slow, synthy music.

He loves it when you bite him! Always calling you his little vampire as you suck on his neck, leaving pretty little lovebites and lipstick smudges on his skin. (vampire/blood kink goes brrrr wait what who said that hAHAHHAHHA)

Fucking to goth music is a MUST... not sorry about it, bands like Depeche Mode and She Wants Revenge are top tier sex music, him mumbling along to Tear You Apart, his lips pressing into your neck, sending vibrations down your spine as he slowly undresses you.

Also fucking while watching horror movies hehehehe, there's just something about the suspense and tension that gets your blood going, one second you're watching the TV anxiously, and the next second he's on top of you as you're begging for him to please fuck you.

[icyg4l]

PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!traveller!reader, male masturbation, a little bit of dub con ( him ) at first, handjob, semi public, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day five [ xiao + handjob ]

the night air in Liyue was always so enticing.

a gentle breeze, the smell of incense lingering in the air, and the full moon hanging low. you’d stood out on the balcony of Wangshu Inn many nights, just like tonight, and swore that if you reached up, you could caress it with your fingertips. everything about Liyue nights seemed tangible. the smell of almond tofu wafting up the steps from the kitchen below, tickling your nose with a delightfully sweet aroma so thick you could already taste the dish melting on your tongue. the lamps that flickered along the coastline, like stars low enough to be stolen. all so real. all here.

you lean against the balcony, allowing your thoughts to melt for a moment of empty bliss. a miniature vacation amongst the chaos. for the night, at least, you didn’t have to think about the Fatui. or demons. or bandits. those things would wait until morning, and flood your brain all over again.

a faint sigh, barely audible, carried on the Liyue wind brings you out of your thoughtless daydream, and you blink a few times, registering the sound. still and quiet, you struggle to listen, and amongst the bustling Liyue nightlife below, you catch it again.

this time, it was a moan. one that set your cheeks on fire.

it was close.

and you knew that voice.

you’d never heard it quite so needy before, though, strangled and breathy. and so, uncertainly, you follow the sounds as he makes them with the stealth of a stalking feline, pressing yourself against the wall of the Inn as you slink around the balcony.

when you finally reach the source, you peek out from around your hiding place as another long, low moan bubbles in his throat. you had to cover your mouth to keep from making a sound, your eyes wide and glued on the display.

his back was to you, but there was no denying what his hands did at his front, one arm moving in a slow, full pumping motion, while the other gripped the bunched-up hem of his shirt and held it up towards his chest. your eyes couldn’t help themselves, they flicker downwards. his pants, though not entirely lowered, were loosened to the point of the waistband sagging, and your stomach does a cartwheel as you realize what you’re watching. and just how intimate it was.

Xiao was pleasuring himself.

the stoic, unapproachable adeptus that you’d only seemed to annoy, was stroking himself mere feet away from you.

another, soft moan, and you feel your knees turn inwards, clamping your thighs together. you couldn’t deny it was an erotic display. and you were getting wet witnessing it.

“Do you really think you’re hidden?” his voice is a bit steadier now, head tilted slightly, and your heart pounds in its chamber as you realize he knew you were there. “That I wouldn’t know you’re there?”

your mind races for an excuse. “Well, I wasn’t trying to—“

“Clearly.” he cuts you off, and you bite down harshly on your lower lip. his movements had stopped, but you realized he hadn’t tucked himself away, or turned to look at you.

you wished he wouldn’t.

with a soft, little plea, you voice that desire. “Please don’t stop…”

Xiao seems taken aback by that, albeit only temporarily. and you take a cautious step towards him. “I don’t care for audiences.”

you chew on your lip harder, taking another step. “I don’t have to be just an audience, Xiao. I could…” you take another, then another, until you’re close enough to his back to reach out and touch him. you do so, gently tracing the outline of his shoulders, and realize how tense they are. regardless of his stone cold act, his shoulders were pulled taut. “I could help you.” your svelte caresses careen around his shoulders, dipping over the expanse of his chest, and you nuzzle close to his ear, letting a breathy moan escape your parted lips. “If you’ll let me—“ your hands delve downwards, impatient and eager to wrap around the cock that you haven’t yet seen, but in a swift motion, his fist wraps around your wrist, squeezing tight enough to halt your movements. “Xiao…”

“I usually tend to myself.” he mutters, and you could practically hear the reluctance in his low tone. “Alone.”

nodding slowly, you allow your wrist to go limp in his grasp, needy fingers dangling mid hair, and you let out a soft sigh. “You don’t wonder what it might be like to let someone else tend to you for once?” your lips form each syllable against the shell of his ear, his tendrils tickling your face as you tease and entice him. pressing a sneaky kiss against his earlobe, you wonder if the heat you’re feeling is from his face or yours.

“Someone else. You?”

you nod, slow, but you know he can feel the rustling against his shoulder, and you hum, desperate to convince him. your cunt was already wet and aching from the show, and now you were eager to continue where he’d left off. if only he’d let you. “My hands are soft, Xiao…” you coo into his ear.

and, to your surprise, he moans. it’s a quiet, muffled moan. you knew he must’ve pursed his lips when he did so, but the sound still struck your core deep. “Palms up,” he whispers, and you obey, allowing your hands to be taken with his and guided to his manhood. you can’t help the swoon that leaks out of your mouth when he wraps them both around his cock. it was already hard and slick with spit, and he curled each of your dainty fingers around the girth, one by one; as if instructing you to play an instrument and teaching you the keys. “Like this…” his voice was not so steady now, as he leads your hands up and down, mentoring you in the rhythm that could bring him the most pleasure. it wasn’t fast, nor did his hips buck to meet your movements. Xiao moans, snorting through his nose, and his hands leave yours when he realizes you’ve mastered pumping him the way he likes it. “Yes.”

you don’t think he meant to grunt the affirmation, because it sounded more like a subconscious plea for more, but you didn’t mind. keeping your hands tight around his cock, you stroke in opposite directions, your fists meeting in the middle, before separating again. one glides down to kiss his base, swatting against sparse, coarse pubic hair, whilst the other flees upwards to polish the swollen tip.

“You feel nice,” you try to breathe, but the action feels impossible. he’s left you in a state of breathlessness, just by allowing you to touch him. “This is what it’s like to pleasure a god…” you feel a bit silly when you hear him grunt, and you realize that you’d moaned the sentiment out loud, and you drop your head to rest your forehead against his shoulder, hiding from his scrutiny if he were to offer any. “That… was supposed to stay in my head.” you admit, sheepishly.

but Xiao doesn’t scold you. “You are foolishly honest.” he murmurs, working his jaw. his hand, now free to do as they please, reach and cradle the back of your head, thumb rubbing against your crown as he urges you closer. “It’s so bothersome.” as you press your body into his back, soaking in his warmth, your hands work him over, and you raise your eyes, about to speak, only to find his head turned towards you. as if glancing over his shoulder, his parted lips ready to embrace yours. “Just kiss me.” he demands, in a husky whisper, and his tiers tease yours by grazing them gently, as he adds, “Before you embarrass yourself further.”

[charmedreincarnation]

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

[koisuko]

Based on a dream:

Tw: angst, gn reader, mentions of blood, established relationship

“Ghost!” Your voice left your lips in nothing more than a whisper. The name echoing in the foggy nothingness surrounding you, reaching nobody's ears but your own. The space seemed obscured, a strange bluish tint, subtle but still noticeable with a careful eye. The nightlife you would expect seemed dead silent, furthering the unease you already felt. Regardless, you kept running. Your feet thumping against the wet grass beneath you, pumping your legs as fast as you could until the muscles burned and ached. The air in your lungs felt like fire with each heavy breath. Something lingered behind you, looming over your shoulder with the promise of harm. You don’t know what, or who, you were running from, but you know where you were running to. Keep going. Don’t stop, there will be a way, you thought.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of repeating scenery, you reached the lawn of a familiar homestead. Only taking a split second of a break before running again, tears streaming down your cheeks with each shaky breath in. Strangely enough, the heavy fog still blanketed the area, not once fading except to reveal the house you came across. It almost felt like running on a treadmill, hardly able to discern whether you were going forward or back.

You reached the porch of the small home, taking a breath at the stairs before once again pleading for an answer, “Ghost!” Nothing. All hope is leaking away in an open wound in your heart. Until suddenly, the familiar footsteps approached rapidly. Bursting through the door, he stood, looking off with wide eyes to the darkened woods around him. “Ghost, I found you!” It felt like a chore to speak, your voice coming out weaker than intended. He looked different, his eyes heavy with melancholy and lips plastered with a permanent frown. Bags of sleepless nights accumulated under his eyes, stubble covering his usually smooth jaw. Slowly, you moved to wrap your arms around his waist in a tender embrace. Touching him felt…different, vacant and cold. You sat there for a moment, holding him tight, yet he never reciprocated. Instead, you felt him shiver in your hold, goosebumps rising on his exposed skin. A quivered sigh left his lips, compelling you to lift your head from his chest and meet the gaze of those deep brown pools you love so much. As you did, you were caught off guard by the fact that he wasn’t looking at you. More like, he was looking past you, beyond your figure to the landscape behind you. Cranking your head, you looked to where he seemed to peer longingly, only to see nothing peculiar that caught your attention. “What’s wrong, love?” You asked, your voice was smooth and sweet, a voice you only used with him, your beloved. Nothing. He gave you no response as he turned to leave back inside. Did you do something wrong?

You followed behind him, your brows knitting together in concern of his odd behavior. He may be distant to many, but never has he blatantly ignored you. The thick fog from outside seemed to leak into the house. You found it odd, unnerving even, but focused your attention back to your husband. You watched him move to sit on the floor of the kitchen, leaning his back against the cabinets. His head fell forward, eyes closed presumably in deep thought. “Honey, talk to me.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you sat beside him.

You two often did this, sitting beside each other on the kitchen floor, talking for hours on end about shit no one else cared to listen to. It was your favorite pastime, your favorite activity after a hard day. He always gave you his undivided attention, dedicating his time to lending you an ear when everyone else brushed your words off like dust.

Once again, you were met with silence. However, you refused to give up. This wasn’t unusual for him, some days he felt no need to speak, or he was too exhausted to communicate. So, instead of pinning it on him as some form of punishment, you held patience and understanding. “Is there anything I can do?” You uttered, “I can make you some te-“ your words were cut short by his raspy voice beside you, “I miss you..so fucking much.” His voice was broken, a subtle sign of his deepest emotions that was all too foreign to anyone in his life but you. The way he spoke sounded more like a prayer to no one than a statement directly to you. You turned to look at him again, taken aback by the tears streaming down his face, painting his features in a somber display. You realized now, seeing him under the light of the kitchen, that he looked like a broken version of the man you once knew. What had you missed in the short time you were gone?

Truthfully, you don’t remember anything past waking up in the woods. What had happened to you was entirely unknown to you. You decided not to think too deep on it, focusing on the depressing man before you. “Simon,” you gingerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I’m right here, no need to miss me anymore.” He made no attempt to lift his head, his shoulders continued to shake with the sobs racking his body. You moved to place a finger under his chin, in an attempt to lift his gaze to meet your own, only for him to refuse to budge. Almost like attempting to rearrange a statue with your bare hands. This struck you, what did you do to hurt him? He’s never resisted your comfort, despite being a man of few words and an aversion to physical touch. Your mind spiraled slightly, and in an attempt to center yourself, you lowered your lips to his. Curious, it felt more like kissing someone in a dream, tingly and distant, as if your lips never actually connected. Your heart broke as his lips remained fastened in place. You leaned back, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced at him once again. His right hand held the necklace tight around his neck, his head lifting slightly to rest against the cabinets.

The necklace, the one he gave you on your second anniversary. Instinctively, you brought your hand to your neck where that necklace once was, only to find a vacant space of bare skin. He clutched it tighter before speaking, “it should have been me,” he muttered in a voice so heartbreaking. Then, it hit you. The memories came flooding into your mind like a tsunami. The forest, a man, bleeding on the cold forest floor at the dead of night. You were running from him, yet that wound you remember so vaguely seemed to be non-existent.

You stumbled back, landing on your backside as you scoot away in a frantic attempt to collect yourself. It all made sense now. The fog, the endless abyss surrounding you, the echo of your voice into nothingness, how he treated you like you weren’t even there. All this time, it was already too late.

You were already dead.

[canonsinthehead]

so hows the night life in the villages? which is the best and worse? 😸😸

Glad you asked... there are few topics ni the answer ill go deeper in another post but i hope yall get the picture...

Naruto Headcanons - Ranking Nightlife in Different Villages (from best to worse)

1- Kumogakure (THE Party City)

Obviously Kumo takes the first place for its unmatched nightlife culture. It is alive at night and very welcoming of foreigners, some people make a whole trip to Kumo just to party.

There are sooooo many nightclubs of different types. Hip hop, Pop or Western etc. Kumo is known for being the only nation to have stripclubs. other countries, always claim to be more conservative in that area. it ties into the more liberal/accepting expression of sexuality (especially from women).

everything is intertwined when you look up the country's music history. Many famous artists strated in nightclubs.

The city lives at night, many sports clubs are operating during dark hours and inviting the night owls to join in. Along this, you can take all types of classes/courses taking place at night if clubbing is not your cup of tea.

Kumo is so diverse, there is a district/area or stores/businesses for all types of preferences, interests or way of life. Are you LGBT, plus size, disabled, a salary man, vegan, emo, a sneaker head or whatever it is, you will find a place for taste.

it has become a challenge some residents (and tourists), to make a 6PM to 6AM Challlenge. where it consist of staying awake and indulging in the nightlife until sunrise. it was popularized by an episode of Killer Bee's Showtime where they came up with the concept and has became a legit tourist attraction since theres so much to do

2- Konohagakure (6 to 9 Heaven)

In Konoha, a lot of people have a 9-5 schedule so big part of the village nightlife is centered around "after work" activities. When you go out on weekdays, you will mostly encounter employees trying to unwind after a long workday

regardless there are so many activities to do after the sunset. the most popular are karaoke, hot springs and street food stands.

Konoha's foundation being a mountain, there are many hidden spots hidden in its complex foundation. when look over it, you can observe spots of hundred of spotlights all over the city because small goups loves to meetup in various places and just chill together

the largest cinemas are located in Konoha. it one of the few places where you can go watch movies from other nations to the exceptions of Kiri for their heavy censorships laws and Suna for being in a different language.

Cabaret clubs are huge in Konoha.

you can find many 24/7 ramen shops and Internet Cafes

The comedy scene in Konoha is big. off course it doesnt match Kumo's but Konoha produced many well known comedians. All the "Comedy Open mic nights" are to die for.

Konoha scored high also for being a welcoming nation and embraces tourist/foreigners with open minds.

3- Iwagakure (Rock 'n' Roll)

if you are looking for a good music concert to attend. especially for rock and indie music.

it scored lower because many of those locations (to party) and the culture surrounding them are sometimes hard to find

mixed with the nightlife, Iwa has a strong adult entertainment industry. There are countless soaplands and burlesque show, again only if you can find them

(Honorable Mention) 3.5 - Modern Kirigakure (Work in Progress)

On the way to become like Konoha (along with their own sauce) but is not there yet

outside of the capital, they still operate like the previous system like the rest of the country of water.

4- Sunagakure (Organized Events)

The nightlife of Suna is more made of organized events where mass of people attent. The largest venues happen on Fridays since there are a lage diversity of shecdules among the population but everthing stops from Friday night to Sunday morning.

A typical night activity is enjoying tea, there are hundreds of tea stands across the country, sometimes even in the middle of nowhere for travelers during their long journey in the desert. they along serve flavourful whiskeys and tasty snacks. It is the #1 socializing spot.

The food is to die for. The culinary scene of Suna is unmatched, with all the ingredients natives to the regions it gives unique meal you cant find anywhere else. there are many restaurants of all types open until the early hours of the morning.

Live performing is a very prevelant part of Suna's nightlife,

A lot of night activities are meant to be enjoyed in large numbers especially among families since many of them are large.

the problem is that Suna is really weary of tourists/foreigners, so accessing certain areas, restaurants or pubs may be denied because they require invitations. That would limit your acess to tea houses and restaurants in the main city/touristic areas where the inflation is crazzzzyyyyyyy for outsiders. Also the language barrier doesnt help...

the best deal would be to be invited among someone's familiy and celebrate with them, it's just as good as going out

5- Old Kirigakure (Dangerous Territories ahead...)

It is advised for regular citizen (especiall women and children) to stay inside as soon as the sun sets. They say the freaks come out at night, all criminals and gang members come out after nightfall. they occupate various pubs and bars. The city is dual face because it is literraly re-birthed at night for a whole different aura to plague the city at night.

most illegal activities take place at night.

there are a lot of brothels operating under criminal leadership. along with illegal/dubious boxing matches and fight clubs where gambling happens.

Gambling is no joke, it is a serious widespread practice where you can witness (and participate with) players with dices on street corners.

At all time, territories are clearly separated, either by criminal affiliations, ethnicities or caste levels. cross it and will likely pay it with your life.

as a foreigner, if you fit the physical attributes of the local men, you could go unnoticed for some time but it adviced not to even try since you may be cooked when people ask for your paperwork to enter certain spaces. also even if you make and get "accepted", the wrong gesture, word could lead to a misunderstanding and escalate into violence

Kirigakure is male centered society. 90% of the people outside at night are male. many levels of society caters to them hence why a lot of adult males without criminal affialition have no problem going out at night to drink their souls away.

you can witness public intercourse

going on the previous point, there is a deep (but hidden) male LGBT culture running in Kiri. many of them are affiliated with various gangs or crimelords like Gato. Some would suggest that homosexuality is lowkey normalized among gangs (do the homie) but it will never be confirmed. So if you know where to look, are determined (crazy) enough, and looking for a hookup with a tattoed muscular dude with a questionable (dead) body count, then go ahead.

Ironically, the gigolo scene industry is as large as female adult entertainment/prostitution in Kiri. they are not going to tell you that most of them are gang members who fell from grace/punished for making mistakes or literal human trafficking.

6- Amegakure (DO NOT TRESSPASS)

RAVES. The rave culture is unmatched. If you are looking for hardcore parties with moshpits and loud eletronic music you are looking at the right place.

The night culture is really the bulk of what there is to do in Ame, its residents uses thoses parties and alcohol to escape for the reality of their daily lives.

Like everything in the country, it is so hard to acces and it doesnt like outsiders not even a little bit. most of them are not allowed to even enter the city's walls.

There you can find the HARDEST drugs in the entire world. Addictions is a real issue in Ame but when i mean hard i mean amnesia (you forget your life before you consumed it) type of hard

if you go there, you 10000% getting robbed.

thanks yall for your request, that was fun to do. hope the formatting is not too much.

shoutout to @getyourmindrightson, @oceanjenna! thanks for the support.

[assortedvillainvault]

I said I was gonna request you, and i'm finally here. Can I request more fluff Headcanons for Facilier, Headless horseman and Horned king?? 🥺 Thank uuu 💫💫 hope you're doing amazing btw <3

BUBBLY i'm so so sorry for the wait on this, I've done nothing but rotate this ask in my head for 12 months, please enjoy-!

FLUFF HEADCANNONS

Dr Faciler:

- This MAN-

- Smooooooth as butter in a slow warmed skillet in summer.

- He’s an elegant chaperone draped in shadow, a hand in the darkness, a gentlemanly escort through the city streets, he’s basically able to hear you through every dark nook and cranny in New Orleans and assistance for anything is only the bat of an eyelash at a dark alley away.

- There’s. There’s so many petnames. The way he purrs ‘Darlin’’ feels like some kind of sin.

- You better believe half of New Orleans owes him a favour or two, so when he decides to take you out on the town, you’re getting nothing but the best service. It may not be the kind of highfalootin’ places he feels you deserve, but hidden in alleyways and in cellars lives New Orleans most raucous, lively, swingin’ nightlife and you’ll both be dancing till your feet fall off.

- Even as you both go for a pleasant walk around town, his ceaseless fingers are dipping into pockets and swiping passersby to get you something nice.

- While you’ve grown used to the sensation of being watched from the darkness, Facilier started taking pains to steer you away from where the city borders the bayou after you told him you felt watched there too.

- Mama Odie has her ways of keeping tabs on you both – and the horrified look on Facilier’s face when she hollered across the river “Stand up straight!” and “Y/N better be eatin’ right!” and “I better see some grandbabies!” (regardless of gender, she has her ways) was priceless.

Headless Horseman:

- Though he can vocalise, it often hurts, so when you appeared with a book on sign language he couldn’t help but sweep you up into a tight embrace.

- You’ve gotten familiar with the signs for ‘hello’ and ‘come here’ and ‘I love you’, the last being something he takes great pride in making you blush with.

- If you don’t know how to ride, he’ll teach you, though you know for a fact his horse Alpatraum only tolerates it because the Horseman is there to supervise. You’re getting thrown otherwise.

- (since learning said horse has a severe weakness for sugar cubes you’ve been graduated from ‘annoyance’ to ‘my annoyance with snacks’. He’ll let you pet him eventually, don’t worry.)

- If you have your own horse, it’s romantic nighttime rides through the woods as far as the eye can see. But HH's favourite is when you smirk and dare him to catch you, taking off at a gallop and laughing as he races in pursuit, the horses hooves like thunder as he gives chase.

- He loves it when you get chilly, because it means he can wrap you up in his cloak and snuggle in the saddle.

- Lowkey loves it when you carve him new faces/heads for halloween, though does have a slight caveat that you please keep the design somewhat frightening. If he’s left with the hello kitty pumpkin again yes he’ll begrudgingly wear it because you worked hard on it but you’re getting stuck up a tree as penance.

The Horned King

- Tf do you mean fluff he’s cold he’s hard he’s ragged he is terror he is death whispered on the wind-

-If you kiss his hand he nearly pitches over.

- The longer you’re in his company, the more you can observe his mocking use of endearments become ever so slowly more sincere, until only he is allowed to call you sweet things – which becomes a rule enforced with ruthless efficiency in his castle.

-He enjoys walking and talking with you, which is good because you’re the only person on the goddamn planet that can convince this lich to leave his depression hole of a private tower and get him to experience a change of scenery. Even just around the parapets would be enough, and then he gets to offer you his arm for the uneven ground and have you lean on him and oh, yes absolutely dear we can make this a daily occurrence-

- His major love language is quality time – simply being in your presence is enough to soothe the hard edges of any day. His favourite thing is just the two of you existing in the same space, quietly doing your own thing, and maybe settling in for some idle handholding just to make things Perfect.

- As a sidenote – you know the thing? With the gentle handholding and the little thumb-stroke over the back of the hand? Yeah. Yeah. That.

- Because he struggles with actually directly verbalising soft feelings (he’s allergic to announcing he’s secretly made of bone shaped mush), he’s come up with the genius coping mechanism of ‘Acts of Service – gaslighting edition’.

- Example:

- “...Sire did you order the men to renovate my room??”

- “The castle requires upkeep, my dear.”

- “...but the renovations seem to comprise of. Just my room.”

- “...Perhaps once the men and Creeper prove themselves deserving of leakproof roofs and sufficient insulation I will order their quarters improved also. Now hush.”

Once again Bubbly I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you like these little bits!!

[pop-punklouis]

if maya was telling the truth (who knows) why do you think per your tags zayn wouldve done it during 2014-2015? granted i wasn’t here for that era so is it just because that’s when zayn left?

not specifically.

i think it’s hard to explain how the autumn of 2014 and beginning of 2015 felt as a fan if you weren’t there for it. there was obviously a lot of tension on many fronts at the time. even coming off the tail end of the weedgate video in the summer…. think the ben winston interviews, the louis twitter account bashing the rainbow direction project with bullshit 2.0, liam’s weird tweets/favorites about the rainbow project, i hate to say it bc i try to not speculate too much over appearances but the obvious weight loss of both louis and zayn in 2014, the zerrie engagement the media wanted to make part of their press cycles regardless of it making zayn uncomfortable anytime he had to open up about his personal life, 1989 releasing and all the press associated with harry— including all the pap walks he was doing with different girls and going to different parties, the rumors of tension while recording four and zayn’s songs not being chosen, the boys hanging out with separate producers and drastically different industry personalities who i’m sure were whispering in all their ears, FOUR and WWA being the peak of their success and fame as a band and what comes attached to that, the pressure to ride that wave and continue pushing certain images and too many public appearances on radio and print and award shows and tv etc., louis and zayn consistently in the nightlife scene, the not-so-subtle marketing of harry as the face of the band was in full-form here, naughty boy made his first appearance during this era, harry with his black & white instagram feed and the color theory that felt very. real at the time, zayn missing televised performances last minute, louis getting his dagger tattoo, the drugs and alcohol abuse im sure was starting to really occur at this time, the first leg of OTRA where it was obvious none of the boys had real tour rehearsals of the four tracklist because they fumbled the words back and forth during the australian dates (i always remember how shockingly poor those performances of stockholm syndrome were), the beginning of party boy!louis’s public persona was rearing its head as spring of 2015 rolled in, liam’s tweets being the cause of controversy back and forth, the lack of personal interaction on stage with everyone, zayn missing tour dates before the bombshell of his departure was dropped……

there was a lot of tension there that i know i only realized when i looked back at that time period altogether. as it was happening, all of these things were either missed or didn’t seem too significant because the music was great, we were getting more content then ever, the band was finally starting to get the praise and recognition they deserved in the industry, the boys were more active on social media, and the fans, for the most part, were having fun. but, it’s obvious (at least to me) that the cracks in the machine that was One Direction started as the latter half of 2014 came. And no matter how much duct tape and glue they or their team or the label execs tried to put on it, it eventually fell. i do believe that time period was the foundation for all that came after though, so that’s why it isn’t surprising me to me if that’s when zayn and liam had that altercation because i can imagine tensions were high with everyone behind the scenes off/on as they continued at a speed that just. wasn’t sustainable.

[oliversrarebooks]

roger, whats it like being fitz's thrall? (aka how does it feel to be living my dream... im not jealous... totally not living vicariously through you...)

Masterlist

January 1922

TW: mind control, conditioning, blood drinking mentions of past abuse, fear of death

"You have to get up, sir." 

Roger gently shook the lump of tangled blankets and sheets that most likely contained a vampire at its core. The only real indication that his master was within was the soft groan from inside, a mumble that sounded a lot like "leave me alone."

"I can't leave you alone, sir. You have a show at 7, remember? If you don't rise and shine soon, you won't have enough time to do your hair and makeup and make it to the theater."

"Uggggggh. Why'd I schedule a show so goddamned early? What is wrong with me?" The pile of blankets huddled in on itself more tightly.

"...I suspect there may be several things, sir," said Roger, unable to resist the obvious opening and knowing that a bit of banter might put his master in a better mood. "Regardless, you did schedule the show, and you do need to leave the house for it."

"Horrible. Torturous. Excruciating." The bedclothes rustled, and Fitz poked his head out just enough to take a look. "It's so early that the sun is leaking around the curtains! The sun could kill me, Roger, you can't expect me to get up in those conditions. I could die."

"I believe that's what the curtains are for, sir. To prevent you from dying when you're unjustly forced to wake up during the day." Roger sat down on the side of the bed. He'd done this often enough to know when he was in for the long haul, and he was quite capable of patience -- a good quality to have when serving Fitz. "You were looking forward to this show, weren't you? It's a large venue, and you have your new rotating box trick."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it will go over splendidly, sir, and you'll be afforded all the praise and applause you deserve," he said. Cheap flattery rarely failed to soften his master's mood. "Aren't you looking forward to seeing the looks of delight on your audience's faces when you perform your new trick? And besides that, aren't you looking forward to being paid?"

Fitz seemed to be lowering both his blankets and his guard. "I suppose so..."

"Excellent. Then forgive me for this, sir." Roger grabbed the covers and pulled them away, as his master produced a sound not unlike a dying cat.

With lightning fast reflexes, the blankets were wrenched from Roger's grasp, and Fitz was clutching them to himself and huddling in the middle of the bed. "How could you? How could my own thrall do such a thing? Heartless, you're simply heartless." He curled up under the blankets and stubbornly closed his eyes as if to go back to sleep.

"Of the two of us, sir, it's technically you who is heartless." Roger sighed. It was always most difficult to wake Fitz in the dead of winter. The long nights enticed his master to stay out too late sampling the city's nightlife, and the cold made him especially reluctant to leave his chambers, which, thanks to the radiators, were as hot as a furnace.

He reached down to the blankets, intending to tug on them again. This time, despite Fitz pretending to sleep, he was faster than Roger, and grasped his wrist.

Roger felt a delicious, drowsy warmth coming from his master's touch, filling his mind with cotton candy haze. It was blissfully dreamy and intoxicating, and, most dangerously, it was sleep-inducing, enticing him to shut his weary eyes and rest.

"Go back to sleep, Roger," Fitz lulled. "Curl up here. Keep me warm..."

Roger was swaying on the spot, eyelids drooping, rapidly losing himself to enchanted slumber -- but he'd been caught by this trap on plenty of occasions, and each time it ended with Fitz regretful that he'd overslept and missed his obligations. It was that memory that kept Roger just awake enough to wrench his arm away and mostly free himself from his master's dangerous temptation. Fitz was making sad little grabbing motions as Roger moved out of range of his hands.

"I'm afraid that if you wish to use your powers on me, you'll have to leave your bed to do so, sir," said Roger, standing several feet away. "The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the pleasant business of washing up." They both knew that it was a bluff. Roger had been under Fitz's thrall for many years now, and his master didn't need hypnotic touch to compel him, body and soul. But it was a bluff that usually worked.

"Fine, fine, you win." With one final dramatic groan, Fitz threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll take my shower, then. But I expect you to attend to me when I'm finished."

"Of course, sir." Roger watched as his master stumbled into the bathroom, and in a moment he could hear the sound of running water and upbeat humming. Fitz loved long, warm showers as much as he loved rolling around lazily in bed. He'd spend at least a half-hour relaxing in the steamy waters and performing his elaborate and ever-changing skin care routine, one which involved enough distinct products as to cover most of the vanity table.

This gave Roger plenty of time to make the perpetually disheveled bed, the foot-high pile of blankets, and the mountain of pillows in every shape and size. He made quick work of it, picked up the dirty clothes that had been tossed on the floor yesterday morning. 

Housekeeping was Roger's primary responsibility apart from providing blood and humoring Fitz's varied whims. With only the two of them in a reasonably sized flat, it wasn't especially difficult or time-consuming compared to when he'd lived on his own, before he'd been snatched off the street by a vampire. He'd even come to enjoy the simple chores. He wasn't sure how much of that was due to his own feelings or to Fitz's coercion -- his master grasping his shoulders and softening Roger's mind, whispering to him how much he loved to serve.

Really, it hardly mattered any more.

When he'd finished tidying up, Roger got down to the business of setting out his master's clothes. Serving Fitz was really about anticipating his moods more than anything else. With a large venue, he'd want something particularly flashy -- something on the warmer side for a chill day -- deep blue, perhaps?

The door to the bathroom cracked open, Roger's signal to enter.

The steam was blinding, mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of flowers, as Roger entered. Fitz was fussing with his hair, as usual, despite not being able to see it in the mirror. "You simply must help me out with this," he said.

"Of course, sir," said Roger, taking the comb from him. This was a ritual they performed nearly every night Fitz went out. Even as the years went by and Fitz grew from a young vampire to a seasoned one, he still seemed so irritated at not being able to see himself in the mirror, sometimes requiring excessive reassurance from Roger that he was still handsome.

Tonight, though, his master seemed deep in his own head as Roger ran the comb through his hair, taking some pomade in hand to smooth it back. He pulled the longer hair into a neat tail, the sort of style usually reserved for unsavory sorts, but then, Fitz didn't mind presenting himself as a bit unsavory. Roger's tense shoulders relaxed as faint hypnotic power flowed from his master's proximity, fogging his mind at the same time it increased his desire to help fix Fitz's brooding.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Fitz seemed startled back into the waking world by the question. "Of course," he said with his fake smile plastered firmly to his face. "Just running through the show in my head. If I'm going to be dragged out of my bed and into the cold this early, it had better be worth it."

"I'm sure it will be, sir. You're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Obviously," he said, lacking the usual cheer that punctuated their banter.

With Fitz's hair squared away, the two then left the bathroom for Roger to assist dressing him. "While the rest of this outfit is acceptable, this bowtie is just not..." Fitz seemed to be fishing around, thinking of what could be wrong with the bowtie, clearly eager to find some minor fault to distract himself from his own worries. "It's blue, isn't it? You can't have blue on a night that's already cold and gloomy, that won't do. It must be red. The color of excitement and passion!"

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir," Roger deadpanned, picking up the blue bowtie that Fitz had tossed aside and fetching one of his half-a-dozen red ones.

Fitz allowed Roger to fit him with the new selection. "That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir."

That got a genuine smile from his master. "Come now, when has that ever not worked out?" he said. "With this outfit and your expert attention to my hair, I'm sure tonight's show will be an absolute triumph."

"There's not a single doubt in my mind, sir."

As Roger adjusted his master's cummerbund, Fitz leaned in a bit more, in an unsubtle fashion. The undercurrent of tension Roger had felt all night bloomed into something more recognizable: hunger. His master desired his blood, and, as always, Roger felt himself falling into a pleasurable daze, one where all thoughts fled from his mind apart from offering himself to his master.

"I think I'll need to feed from you when I return. You don't mind, do you?" Fitz whispered in his ear.

"No, master," said Roger, shivering involuntarily. "It's my pleasure to serve you."

"And it's my pleasure to feed," he said, grinning with his fangs bared. "Yes, I think that'll be just the thing to lift my spirits. Something to look forward to after the show."

"Yes, sir. I'll also look forward it." He meant that -- he had long since given up being troubled by his desire for vampiric feedings. He'd felt that desire even for his previous master's painful, harsh feedings, and it was far easier to accept Fitz's gentle trance of bliss.

A few minutes later and Roger had wrangled a semi-unwilling vampire into two layers of winter coat and sent him on his way. Sometimes Roger went along with Fitz to the theater, to help with makeup or hair or just for support purposes, but just as often he was left behind to his own devices. 

He didn't mind either way. It was nice to have a few hours to himself. He often spent the bulk of the time painting, something he'd never gotten to do much of even before he was taken by vampires. He wanted to eat breakfast first, though, especially given that his master might be feeding later.

Roger did hope he was. Sometimes he instead chose to feed on his volunteer from the audience, and that was always a bit of a disappointment, denying Roger the opportunity to fulfill his primary purpose in life. But Fitz seemed interested in feeding at home, and if he was going to do that, it would behoove Roger to be well-fed.

Soon enough, a generous portion of ham and eggs was sizzling on the stove. Fitz had made a promise early on that he'd always keep Roger fed, and although he forgot and broke promises all the time, he hadn't broken that one. Unlike his previous master, he never punished Roger with starvation -- a particularly spiteful punishment, since it also seemed to lower the quality of Roger's blood. His previous master did seem to enjoy punishment more than feedings.

When Roger's former master had been destroyed in a duel, Roger had assumed he was going from bad to worse. That feeling had grown stronger when he'd been dragged to a secondhand thrall appraiser and his worth was assessed at far lower than it had been when he'd first been bought. At the time, Roger had been little better than a beaten dog, cringing at every sound, barely daring to speak or think. He'd lost hope for anything better.

And, well, Fitz was far from the savior he'd often imagined during those days. He was still a vampiric master, a dramatic one whose moods changed like the wind. He could still effortlessly control Roger's mind, and he made Roger do all the chores in the house. Roger still wasn't free.

But rather than beatings and torture, Fitz's "punishments" generally amounted to snippy words and extra chores. There was always food, and he was allowed to paint and read and relax. His master might have a terrible habit of tossing out every piece of clothing in his closet when choosing what to wear and then telling Roger to clean it all up, but compared to what life had been like...

He hoped that Fitz came home safe. He'd strongly prefer to not change hands again, even if it meant dragging a protesting vampire out of bed each night for the rest of his life.

Roger had busied himself painting a bird from an illustration in a nature book when he heard the front door creak. "It's goddamn cold out there! Windy, too."

"Welcome home, sir," said Roger, helping his master out of his frigid coats. He was pleased to see Fitz in a better mood than when he'd left. "I take it your show went well?"

"Of course! Didn't you say there wasn't a single doubt in your mind?" he said with a grin as he kicked off his shoes, leaving Roger to line them up neatly in the shoe rack. "The crowd loved it! The spinning box trick is a real winner -- I just need to think of some ways to jazz it up further -- perhaps doing up the box in spangles to really dazzle them..." 

He shook himself out of his train of thought, seeming to remember Roger was there. "All of that applause did have me work up an appetite, though," he said, stepping close and brushing his hand against Roger's. Roger could feel the influence flowing through him, stoking his need for the feeding. "Why don't you go start the fire? That and your blood will provide me with some warmth tonight, I think."

So he was going to feed. Roger tried to keep his face neutral to preserve a scrap of dignity. "Very good, sir."

Roger allowed himself to hum a bit of a jaunty tune as he stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling, using the bellows to raise the fire higher. He could hear his master making a commotion in the bathroom, likely getting out of his fine clothes and washing off the stage makeup. By the time Fitz arrived in the parlor, the fire was crackling merrily.

"Ahhhhh," said Fitz, sprawling out onto the old leather couch and beckoning Roger close. "This is the life, isn't it, Roger?"

"It certainly is, sir."

"Well, I suppose I'm not technically alive. The point still stands."

His master put his hand to Roger's cheek, and Roger sank into the mind-numbing bliss that came from his power, the familiar sense of captivation and contentment. As always, he could feel his master's desire to feed, and as he dropped deeper into a trance, his hands came up to unbutton his shirt and pull his collar away.

"You really are an excellent thrall," said Fitz, and Roger soaked in both the praise and the sense of security that came from pleasing his master. "Now just relax and let me have what I need."

Sharp fangs punctured the old scars that would never heal, and Roger's pliable mind slipped further as his master began to drink. There was nothing but bliss and contentment and hunger and need --

-- and, as always when his master was anxious, the sound of ticking clocks and the undercurrent of a lonely void.

Perhaps the good reception to his show hadn't brightened his mood as much as Roger had thought.

Fitz drank hungrily as if to fill that void with his thrall's blood, and Roger could feel his senses buckling, his vision tunneling and his eyelids growing heavy. His master was overdrinking again. "Sir," Roger managed to say as he fought to stay awake. "Sir -- sir, you're --"

"Oh!" His master mercifully stopped. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Roger. I don't mean to do that, you know I don't."

"I know you don't," Roger parroted in a dazed voice, slumping against his master's shoulder, allowing his eyes to close now that the danger had passed.

Someday, his master was probably going to kill him. He'd drink too much blood, and Roger would fail to stop him in time, collapsing into his master's arms and closing his eyes for the last time.

But tonight was not that night, and Roger was glad of it.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

[vintagerpg]

Barkeep on the Borderlands (2023) is just fantastic through and through. It’s a system neutral bar crawl through a classic D&D setting transformed by time and capitalism, basically. F. W. Smith recommends Errant or Cairn for the system, but just about anything would work, certainly any D&D derivative. There are some bespoke rules, though: a timekeeping system, a methodology for the bar crawl and mechanics to track alcohol consumption and drunkeness.

So, if you haven’t quite gotten it yet, Barkeep substitutes hexes and dungeons for literal bars. The monarch is ill, you’re searching for clues as to how and why by taking in the nightlife. The really charming part is that this town is the keep from B2: Keep on the Borderlands and that the ongoing festival, the Raves of Chaos, celebrates the heroes who, two centuries ago, cleaned the caves out. That act, and the way the Keep developed in its wake, is very much a presence in the adventure.

Also charming are the bars. There is quite a variety (the zine is technically an anthology, with many bars designed by a different creator, many of whom will be familiar to longtime readers of this feed). Regardless of the writer, each has it’s own vibe (often sending up some sort of pop cultural reference — there is a lot of potential for humor here) and character. My faaaaaaavorite is maybe Our Lady of the Sacred Speakeasy, which has a familiar looking temple in the basement.

Barkeep on the Borderland is an instant classic for me. It looks good, it reads good, it effortlessly takes a D&Dish game in completely unexpected directions. It feels new and fun and welcoming, and I’m keen to seem more from Prismatic Wasteland.

[farmerlarrry]

I Wanna Be Yours - Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: You meet Joel at a bar and you're left wanting more of him.

wc: ~3.3k

tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI)! no use of y/n, no outbreak!Joel, reader is younger than Joel however age is not specified (is of drinking age though), Joel is mid to late 30's, alcohol consumption, sexual thoughts (!!!), takes place at a bar in Texas, flirty!Joel, unwanted male attention (but also wanted attention...), idk there's not much tbh (if you feel like I should add something, please let me know) no beta we die like men

a/n: I didn't proofread as intensely as I normally do, but I'm trying to challenge myself to write & post more so here is the result. Also, I couldn't stop thinking about this concept, so I wrote it. Hope you all enjoy! (I also have an idea for a part two... if any of you are interested, let me know!)

if you are interesting in getting notifications when I post new works, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and turn on notifications! :)

You haven’t seen your best friend in over a year since they moved to a small town in Texas. Between work and just life in general, it’s been hard to find a time when both your schedules just so happen to perfectly align. After a lot of planning and a four hour fight with a two hour layover, you’ve finally made it. Unfortunately, your stay will be short—you only have three nights and four days with them, but it’s better than not seeing them at all. Your best friend made sure to plan some fun filled days, and regardless of how tired you are from your long travel day, you don’t want to waste any of the time you have with them.

Tonight, the two of you are hitting the town. Your friend has been going on and on about this one bar in particular. The drinks are cheap, the crowds are wild, and the music is good. On top of that, you will also be meeting some of your friend's coworkers, who quickly turned into some of their closest friends. Although you were excited, a part of you felt nervous.

It’s been a while since you went out to any bars or clubs. When you were in college, you and your small group of friends were frequent nightlife goers, but once everyone started getting jobs and moving away, those wild nights became few and far between.

Butterflies began to form in your stomach as the two of you approached a building from a side alley. You could feel the vibration of the music run its course through your body before the bar came into view; usually, this was a sign that tonight was going to be a good night.

When the building came into view, it wasn’t exactly what you were anticipating. The dim entrance made your stomach churn, igniting a sense of danger in your mind. A large man stood to the side of the closed metal door, his arms crossed as he stared straight ahead with a grim, intimidating expression. It was definitely not like any of the clubs or bars back home, where everything was well lit and definitely not as secluded as this one is. Your body language must’ve been telling because your friend let out a loud chuckle, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you closer to them.

“I already know what you’re thinking,” they say between their small giggles. You respond with a apprehensive look, causing them to become even more amused. A part of you felt like this was some sort of prank. “It doesn’t look like much, but I promise you, this is the place to go.”

You raise your eyebrows in suspicion. Your friend shakes their head in a joking manner, lacing their arm through yours and guiding you to the line that has begun to form.

Your friend spent most of the time in line on their phone trying to get a hold of their friends, who are supposed to be meeting the two of you there. One person wouldn’t pick up, so they’d call another person, only for the first person to call back. It was a mess, but in your eyes, it was an entertaining mess watching your friend struggle between the calls.

The two of you finally make it into the bar. Dim, red lights barely illuminate the large building, and you are immediately met with a humid heat and the smell of sweat and pure alcohol. Your nose twitches at the smell. The music, at least, is good; you can feel the thumping of the beat in your chest.

As you’re taking in the atmosphere, your friend grabs the back of your arm, pulling you in close to them and tilting their phone away from their mouth.

“I think I know where they are, I’m going to try and find them,” they shout into your ear, and you simply nod in response. Your eyes are locked onto the small, but crowded, dance floor straight ahead of you. “Why don’t you go get a drink at the bar? I’ll be right over, okay?”

They point in the direction of the bar, and you follow with your eyes. A drink will surely help with the nerves you’re feeling right now. Your stomach feels like a scrambled mess. Your friend quickly disappears in the opposite direction, still trying to reach someone on their phone.

You have to push your way through the crowd to make it over to the bar, situating yourself between two men. As you wait for the bartender to come over, you tap your fingers along the edge of the wooden top, looking around at the people surrounding you.

"Well, aren’t you a pretty lady?” The man to your right sneers at you, causing you to snap your head in his direction. You immediately notice his eyes are locked on your chest, not even trying to hide his obvious obsession with your cleavage. A feeling of insecurity comes over you as you begin to regret your outfit choice. Sure, you wanted attention, but not this level of creepy attention and definitely not from this man.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you just give the man an unauthentic smile, positioning your body away from him. You can feel him lean in behind you, and as he begins to say something, the bartender, a girl who barely even looks old enough to work at an establishment like this, promptly comes up to you from the other side of the bar. She gives a deathly glare to the man bothering you, causing him and his friends to leave.

“What can I get for you?” She says with a sweet smile.

“Tequila soda, please.” You rest your palms against the edge of the wooden top, leaning in toward her as you speak. “With an extra lime, too.”

She gives you an assuring nod, quickly turning on her heel to begin her work. As she’s walking away, your body is firmly slammed up against the bar top, the edge ramming into your ribs and knocking the wind out of you. Your body rocks back and forth as some sort of commotion unfolds behind you, with someone keeping your body pinned down and making it impossible for you to straighten upright.

Watch where the fuck you’re goin’.

Why don’t you watch your fucking mouth, old man.

Old ma– you wanna take this shit outside, you fuckin’ punk? Huh?

Your ribs get slammed against the edge again before you are finally set free, pushing yourself upright. You feel a hand glide along your lower back, making you turn your head from side to side, trying to see who is touching you.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout that, miss,” a faint voice says, obviously directed toward you. “Are you alright?”

You nod your head slowly as a tall and quite handsome man appears off to your side, making you turn around to see him fully. His dark hair is messily tousled on top of his head, a few half formed curls peek out from the nape of his neck. He is staring at you intensely with kind yet very obviously tired eyes. You can feel your mouth grow unbearably dry as you take his good looks in.

“Ye—yes,” you stumble on your words, continuing to marvel over the man before you. His eyes are wide as he darts all over you, bringing up his hand to gently move a strand of hair out of your face. He gives you a genuine, kind smile before letting his hand drop.

“People are...” He lets his voice trail off, sucking in some air through his teeth. He quickly looks around him. “I'm—”

Although he’s shouting, you don’t catch his name over all the noise, bringing your eyebrows together and turning your ear toward him.

“Joel,” he said louder, leaning in closer. You pull back, nod your head and shout your name back to him. His lips curl up into a charming smile. “That’s a beautiful name, miss.”

His compliment makes your heart flutter, and you drop your gaze down to your feet for a short moment before meeting with his eyes again. Joel nudges the man who was standing to your right out of the way so he can take his spot; your arms brush up against each other’s in the process, causing a chill to run up your arms. You slowly turn to face him, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. The bar light illuminates his face a bit better than before, he is absolutely beautiful.

“You from around here?” Joel asks and cocks his head slightly to one side, tilting himself a bit closer to you.

“No, just visiting a friend,” you respond, lifting yourself up ever so slightly on your tiptoes and angling your chest toward him. This is exactly the kind of man you want attention from. “You?”

His throat bobs, and his eyes quickly dart down and then back up to your eyes.

“I— I am from around here,” he says with a slight chuckle, which causes you to giggle alongside him. You can see a bead of sweat beginning to form alongside his temple.

Suddenly, his attention shifts away from you and he subtly points to behind the bar, causing you to turn your head. It’s the bartender from earlier, and she has your drink in hand with an apologetic smile showcased on her face. You were so wrapped up in the essence of Joel that you completely forgot you even ordered a drink.

“So sorry, we had some issues at the other end.” Her voice is high pitched and sweet sounding. “Do you want to pay or open a tab?”

As she slides your sweat clad glass across the bar toward you, Joel leans across you, closer to the girl on the other side. You can feel his hand find its way between your shoulder blades, running it up to the backside of your neck. A chill runs down your spine, causing a hitch in your breathing.

“Put it on my tab.” He shouted, and although he was just mere inches away from you, his voice still sounded so distant over the music and people talking.

The bartender raised her eyebrows and gave him a curt nod, quickly making eye contact with you and giving you a sly smile. Your heart fluttered at the gesture, even though a part of you knew this probably meant he wanted something in return. At this point, it was something you were definitely willing to give if he continued to play his cards right.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, not even sure if you spoke loud enough for him to hear you. As he pulls away, the two of you lock eyes, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to suppress your smile.

“A lady as pretty as you should never pay for her drinks,” he responded confidently. You could feel your cheeks fill with heat.

Joel is now peering down over you with dark eyes, his left forearm laying against the wooden bar to support his body, and his other hand still loosely wrapped around the side of your neck. Goosebumps spread across your skin as he slowly rubbed the pad of his thumb over your soft skin.

You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He has his lips slightly puckered as he traces his eyes along your skin. You watched as the muscles in his chest twitched. A burning sensation begins to burn deep inside your chest; you didn’t know how much longer you could take this. At this point, you didn’t want him, you needed him.

He let his hand glide down the side of your neck, over your shoulder, and then down your arm before retracting it, grabbing his glass of whiskey off of the table and taking a smooth, long drag. You continue to watch him with your swollen bottom lip tucked between your teeth, subtly bobbing your head along to the music.

“What do you do for work?” Joel’s voice has changed now, it’s much more lustful than before, and you can tell that he’s trying to hide his desire. His throat bobs as he swallows. You were glad you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

“I work in an office.” You try to steady your breathing, not wanting your words to come out shaky. “I’m an assistant to the company’s CFO.”

Joel’s eyebrows twitch as he nods, looking down at his drink and swirling it around a few times.

“That sounds—“ His voice is hesitant.

“Super fun,” you cut him off and say in a sarcastic tone. “It totally is.”

Joel breaks out into a wide smile. You’re positive he chuckled, but it’s hard to be certain over the noise. You look down at his hands and see some dirt clinging to his arm hair. Construction? Maybe a contractor?

“And what do you do?” You say, grabbing one of his wrists and running over the dirtied spot with your index finger. He quickly pulls back, rubbing off the dirt with his other hand. Pink spreads along his cheeks.

“Christ, that’s embarrassin’… seems to never come off no matter how much I clean m’self.” His tone is flustered as he continues to try and remove the stubborn dirt. “I’m a carpenter, though; I work alongside my brother.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, chewing slightly on the inner flesh of your cheek. “So… does that mean you’re good with your hands?”

You question him flirtatiously, looking back down towards his big hands. Your comment makes Joel choke on his drink, his cheeks growing an even brighter shade of pink now. Your eyes dart back up to his face, this time you don’t break your gaze away from him, watching as he tries to hide his smile from you.

“I— I guess you, you could say that,” Joel manages to get out, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing the side.

His well fitted shirt strains against his bicep, causing you to become distracted by Joel’s physique again. He is well in shape, likely due to his line of work; he has toned arms, broad shoulders, and nice chest muscles that the fabric of the shirt clings to. Without much thought, you begin to run your eyes along his body, your eyes meeting with the sliver of skin just above his pant line that’s exposed. Your eyes wander even lower when Joel suddenly hooks his finger under your chin, a smirk planted on his face.

“You’re trouble.” He leans in close, only leaving a few inches between your faces. You look up at him through your brow line, the corners of your lips curling upward. You love where this is going, soon all of your desires will be met, and he will be all yours.

Just as your eyes flutter shut, Joel is yanked away from you. A man with dirty blonde hair has his hands around Joel’s shoulders and is shaking him back and forth. Joel is very clearly perturbed, his face twisting up in frustration.

“Joel,” the man drags out his name with a wide grin, clearly he’s had one too many drinks tonight. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you… a couple guys from the job site are here ‘n wanna play pool. Whatdya think?”

Joel flashes you a quick smile before turning away from you and saying something to the man. Whatever he is saying appears to be causing conflicting emotions between the two of them. As they begin shooting back and forth, a feeling of insecurity quickly comes over you, causing you to turn your head away and look out into the crowd of people dancing.

As you take a small sip of your drink, Joel firmly places his hand on the small of your back, making your stomach jolt. You quickly turn your head back toward him. His mouth is near your ear, and you can feel his hot breath tickling your skin. The sensation causes heat to begin pooling in between your legs. You gulp.

“It was a pleasure talkin’ to you, darlin’,” his voice is smooth as honey and seductive. “I hope to see you around.”

Before you could think of anything to say back, Joel already had his back toward you, walking away accompanied by his friend. You’re stunned by his quick exit, your fingertips pooling with blood as you grip onto your drink glass. There’s no way I misread that entire situation, you think to yourself, left somewhat confused. Why would he leave like that?

The conversation was just as quick to end as it started, but it— he— left you wanting more. A sense of clarity came over you, a fire burning deep in your chest. You wanted more.

A voice inside your head echoed with “no, don’t leave” as you watched Joel disappear into the crowd. You could not move to make your deepest desires come true, and even if you could, did you really want to be the sex crazed person chasing after someone you had just met? As he fully disappeared, his scent lingered where he once stood—a faint smell of dirt, whiskey, and sweat. You thought it was strange that the combination was quite a turn on for you, but it was the indication of a hardworking man— and that was sexy to you.

All you could think about was how badly you wanted Joel. The way your body reacted every time he touched you was unlike anything any other person had been able to make you feel. The way his voice drew you in and his eyes hypnotized you. All you wanted at this moment was to see him bare, hovering over you while sweat dripped off of him and his face twisted with pleasure as he filled you up with his girth. You want to moan his name over and over as he explores your body, desperately wanting to know how his tongue would feel swirling around your swollen, throbbing clit that begged for his touch.

Closing your eyes, you bring yourself back to reality. You let go of the air that you had been holding in your lungs, your chest burning as it escapes. Being this attracted to someone was definitely not on your bingo card for this trip. Bringing your glass up to your lips, you steadily draw in the liquid, desperately trying to calm yourself down.

“Bitch,” the faint sound of your friend’s voice comes to you as a relief. They come up to your side, looping this arm around your waist. They have their eyes narrowed at you, a slight smirk appearing the longer the two of you look at each other.

“What?” You feel your eyebrows twitch.

“Who was that handsome fella you were just talking to?” They’re full blown smiling now, looking past you in the direction Joel went. You try to fight your smile, but ultimately fail. Your bestie begins to laugh, grabbing onto your arm and causing the heat to return to your cheeks.

“How long were you watching?” You suddenly feel shy, covering your face with one of your hands.

“Well, I wasn’t just going to come up and ruin whatever was going on… unlike that bastard that pulled him away from you.” They narrowed their eyes once again, obviously upset about what happened. “So, what’s his name?”

“His name’s Joel,” you say, leaning in closer to them.

“Oh,” their eyes widened. “And are we hoping we see Joel again tonight?”

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, dropping your eyes down to your glass as you run the moistened tip of your index finger around the rim of your glass.

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling to yourself. “I hope so.”

dividers are from @saradika | link

banners were made by me :)

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

+Disgrace + Chapter + Index+ + {playlist click here}+

Chapter 1: Tear You Apart- Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images

After the rise of the Empire, neutral planet Ga'hah is occupied by Imperial forces. Governorship has been assigned to Nyem'Tok Ra, a Ga'haiian native who married into Coruscant money. Nyem'Tok's business is pleasure, owning and operating The Red Spire, a collection of brothels ranging in exclusivity. The highest club on the tower is The Red Crown, managed by Governor Ra's daughter, Tah'Nyem. The socialite delinquent shadows her fathers footsteps through the underworld, and now finds herself in a political maze with no guidance for what to expect. Thus, it comes as a surprise when her father insists she take a military escort back to Ga'hah suddenly one evening. Aboard the ship she meets an unlikely ally, a "defective" clone Commander on light duty after a long stint at sea. These two castaways feel a kinship, as if their worlds are changing too fast to leave a place for them. Will they be able to survive the shift, or be crushed by the traps that seem to be set for them both.

Chapter 2: The Big Empty- Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images

The transport to Ga'hah is boring, boring, boring, and though Tah'nyem makes to amuse herself with the bristly clone commander she may have bit off more than she can chew, not that she's one to admit it. She attempts to maintain focus and composure while waiting on progress into her own investigations which may reveal more than she's ready to learn. Every one seems to have let down their guard, but not everyone on the ship may be a friend.

Chapter 3: Not a Crime- Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images

After crash-landing on a desert world, the main objective is getting off of it again. A backwater pirate operation is nothing for the Elite Imperial Sniper, even alone... What's not accounted for is Tah'nyem's draw for bad luck and mischief. They'll have to try to navigate the hostile environment without getting too distracted.

Chapter 4: Aliens Talk-Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images {Explicit}

How does one ignore the inevitable? You already know it's useless to try to avoid it, but how do you ignore its presence at your peripherals? The way it taunts you. There is absolutely nothing challenging about being stuck together on an isolated moon completely alone and cut off from the outside universe for an undisclosed amount of time. There should be plenty of wholesome ways to distract oneself... right?

Chapter 5: Pleasure- Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images

After the night they had these two attempt to clear the air and ask the questions they've been avoiding, but even as Tah'nyem divulges some of her darkest secrets Crosshair can't help but notice the sudden coldness from his traveling companion. He's left with the decision as to whether or not he lets her pull away as they leave the liminal moon, crossing from his world to plunge headfirst into hers.

Chapter 6: Madly - Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images {Explicit}

Where is the man Tah'nyem had come to know? Reserved, cautious, definitely not one to take risks... well there was that one time... and then... well... Regardless. Despite the ensuing chaos, she's told him to do as he likes and he has every intention of showing her exactly how he likes it.

Chapter 7: Sweet Water - Read on Tumblr + Read on Ao3 + Images

Estkle City, hugging the base of the equator mountains, alive with the winds peeling away from Ga'hah's storm spot; This city is port du call for the grand rail that brings civilians through to the Sohn city state in the North. It's the last stop before Tah'nyem finds herself home. Armed with a satchel of casino winnings and a posh nightlife these two are determined to enjoy their evening.