#send me love readers

[maiaspen]

Hey “Oblivion Gin” readers!

I swear to the Force that I am working hard on the finale for you! 💚 My writing confidence took a bit of a hit last month. I am human. I go through feels, sometimes inconvenient ones.

Thank you to all of my readers for continuing to support and encourage me. I’m hoping to have the story finished this month. 💪

Here’s another little teaser for you. The scene picking up where my last teaser left off. Here

I also have glorious supporting art by @kana7o to treat your eyes 😏

Please remember that this is a very rough draft, what ultimately makes it onto ao3 will be heavily scrutinized 🧐 these are just the raw words as they pour out of me. 

Thank you all for your support! I can’t wait to share the full finale with you 💚💚💚

xo Maia

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Chapter 9 excerpt…

Anakin doubles his already quite doubled efforts to hustle, weaving pedestrians and commuters on citibikes and landspeeders. He’s aware that his surroundings are Coruscant-rush-hour-level-of-loud, and that it’s daylight; but only because Orea Dea’s singular sun has teamed-up with the Force to highlight his Jedi targets.

Entering the crowded spaceport, Anakin decelerates to a sneaky jog. The Force insists that he assess the situation before drawing his lightsaber and trimming Fisto’s tentacles (and testicles).

The pair of Masters are standing – huddled shoulder-to-shoulder– next to a cargo freighter that looks like it’s being prepped for take-off.

To Anakin’s tremendous relief, Obi-Wan’s posture is strong. He’s handsome as ever, fair head and facial-hair have been groomed to perfection. He’s dressed in his boots and tunic, which the medical staff was kind enough to launder. All of the sweaty-oily-mulchy- bloody souvenirs from their crab droid and ass face battle royales have been cleared away. Obi-Wan looks the epitome of a proper Jedi Master. But Fisto . . .

The droid wasn’t exaggerating.

Anakin gasps as bewilderment sweeps like a blizzard through his mind, whiting-out thoughts of all else but what Fisto is wearing. Or rather– not wearing.

(Thank you @kana7o for this Fisto sketch💚)

The Nautolan is clad in a darkened leather toga – a toga that looks like it’s been sized for Master Yoda. The skirt portion brushes his thick thighs, barely concealing his dignity. If there is a gust of wind – or if Fisto even raises his arms to stretch – everyone in this spaceport will see his cock and balls! Unless he’s wearing underwear, which Anakin strongly doubts. And the green bastard is wearing the toga like he’s doing it a favor. His muscles are bursting out of the garment. Those chiseled biceps and pecs belong on a Holomovie screen (probably a porno), not a public spaceport. There are younglings milling about!

Has the Nautolan been working-out obsessively the whole time they’ve been hospitalized? Gaining muscle and losing modesty?! Even from eight meters away Anakin can count his eight abdominals.

The ‘outfit’ includes knee-high strappy sandals, which accentuate his strong calves, and even– is that a collar? And, yes, Fisto is wearing a collar. A leather one with a metalloid loop. It’s like he’s begging to be latched by some kinky leash.

Master Kit Fisto is hotter than fire. He’s center-of-a-sun, liquid magma hot. How his toga hasn’t burst into flames, Anakin does not know. And, right now, Obi-Wan is reaching upward . . . laying a hand on that bulging bicep and squeezing—

“MASTER!” Anakin screams as though Obi-Wan is touching liquid magma! With a mighty Force-leap he closes the distance, landing before the Masters and snatching Obi-Wan’s hand. Anakin holds his Master’s hand to his chest like he’s saved it from a brutal roasting.

Obi-Wan makes a face like Anakin has pissed in his morning tea.

So, Anakin counters: pushing his bottom lip out, going for the most adorable pout he can muster. The kind of expression that always softened his mother’s irritation when he was late for their evening meal. To Anakin’s surprise, Obi-Wan actually blushes. Really blushes. Anakin is certain his rouge can be seen from outer space. Did touching Fisto actually burn him?

Suddenly, Anakin can feel his Master’s Force signature again – vibrating and sizzling like it’s super-heating. But Master Kenobi quickly regains control of his dermal blood vessels and his shielding, retaining the aurora of one who is cool and centered.

“I’ll take this back, thank you,” Obi-Wan says as he pulls his hand from Anakin’s grasp. He then offers a small but earnest smile, adding: “It’s good to see you up and about again, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master. I can say the same to you–” Anakin starts, intending to ask what-in-all-the-hells is going on, when Fisto clears his throat.

The Nautolan grins broadly, teeth glinting like pearls under the sunlight. Anakin orders himself to keep looking at Fisto’s teeth. Not lower, not lower. “It is indeed good to see you both up and about,” Fisto declares. “I spoke with Master Windu this morning. The Council is sending a team to sluth-out what happened to the senator’s shuttle. They will arrive tomorrow, at which time you two are to take their transport back to Coruscant. I’m afraid our little shuttle is officially out-of-commission.”

Anakin processes Fisto’s words out loud. “So. Master Fisto, you won’t be . . .” he pauses. Pushing the obnoxious optimism from his voice is like trying to shove against a stubborn bantha. “ . . . you won’t be joining us on our voyage to Coruscant?”

Fisto smirks as though he is a stubborn bantha. “No.”

Anakin’s signature surges like a double nova! He barely resists cartwheeling all over the spaceport! He and Obi-Wan will be traveling back to Coruscant together and alone.

And are they spending the night here alone, too? Or is Fisto in his ‘little slut get-up’ going to be the third wheel?

“What’s with the, um,” Anakin waves his hands vaguely about Fisto’s ensemble. “The whole . . . whore look? And where did you get that outfit anyway? Are you going somewhere dressed like that?”

Obi-Wan cringes at Anakin’s words, but Fisto’s already broad smile only widens. “I’m being deployed. Immediately,” Fisto points to the nearby cargo freighter. “It’s an undercover mission. I’m being smuggled to Nal Hutta as a pleasure slave. I’m to be sold upon landing to my . . . target. I cannot divulge any further details, you understand. And, Skywalker, the Council has wardrobe sources on nearly every Republic planet,” Fisto says as though Anakin should know that. Which he does, he just didn’t know that the Republic’s sources kept skimpy togas on hand.

The weight of Fisto’s words take a moment to sink into Anakin’s brain, but when they do . . .

Anakin shakes his head, wanting the weight to be gone. “Hold on, the Council is sending you alone?”

Fisto nods. “They are.”

“Kit is quite capable of handling himself,” Obi-Wan interjects carefully, sensing Anakin’s . . . what? His concern? No. No way. He’s not concerned for Fisto safety. He’s fucking thrilled that Fisto is going away. Far, far away.

Anakin scoffs, though the sound comes out as more nervous than he’d intended. “Yeah, of course. I mean, obviously. But . . . is the mission dangerous? Are you going to have to perform sex duties and–?”

“Anakin. Kit cannot share any further details with us,” Obi-Wan scold-reminds, though Anakin can now sense that his Master is concerned. Obi-Wan turns his attention back upon Fisto, and smiles with warm reassurance. “I am glad for this opportunity to see you off, Kit.”

“Me too,” Anakin says, then turns an accusatory glare upon his Master. “Though, how come neither of you were planning to include me? I couldn’t sense you, Master. And if I hadn’t returned to your sickbed when I did, and interrogated that awful droid, then I may not have even found you on time.”

Obi-Wan lowers his voice as though trying to sooth a hostile assailant: “I needed to have a private word with Kit–”

Anakin intercepts his Master’s defense. “A private word, huh? Is that the only private thing you needed to have?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow fractionally, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Besides, Anakin, the medical droid reported that you were occupied.”

Uninterested in Obi-Wan’s paltry excuses, Anakin turns his accusatory glare upon the scantily-clad Nautolan. “And you! Couldn’t you have changed into that on the freighter instead of schutta-strutting around this port?!”

Amusement flickers over Fisto’s signature and within his eyes. “The droid crew has been programmed to thoroughly shackle me upon boarding. While I am an apt-multitasker, I’m afraid that I cannot undress and redress with my arms, legs and neck bound.” Fisto looks to the cargo freighter, which is flashing its ‘five-minutes-to-launch’ warning. He reaches behind himself, and Anakin only now notices that Fisto is wearing a leather satchel. He rummages within the satchel until he finds something that makes his signature ping with delight.

“Ah, here,” Fisto pulls out the half-empty bottle of Oblivion Gin. “The Council has granted you both the evening free. You have orders to relax, and I am ordering you to . . . indulge,” his grin thins into a cheeky smirk. “Enjoy.” Fisto hands Obi-Wan the bottle. Obi-Wan accepts the gin as though Fisto is giving him a writhing whip-snake.

“Oh, oh . . . really, I cannot accept. This is far too . . . generous,” Obi-Wan almost sounds flustered.

“I insist,” Fisto pushes the bottle at Obi-Wan with oomph, and he begrudgingly accepts. “A shot or two will do you good, my friend. And you,” Fisto’s dark eyes find Anakin’s, flaring with equal parts challenge and warning. “You may need three or four shots.”

“ALL ABOARD!” A mechanical voice blears loudly from the cargo freighter. “WE WILL DEPART IN TWO MINUTES.”

Anakin opens his mouth to say something . . . say thank you? Say goodbye? Say good luck? But it’s suddenly like all of this planet’s air has been sucked away into space, and no words come out.

Anakin feels Fisto’s large, cool hand on his right shoulder, offering a brief squeeze of reassurance. Then he watches as Fisto grants Obi-Wan the same gesture, which Obi-Wan returns.

“My comrades,” Fisto says those two words in a way that makes Anakin’s heart-clench, though he doesn’t know why. “Our physical bodies do not have forever,” Fisto’s gaze sweeps from Obi-Wan’s to Anakin’s and back again. Under the brilliant sunlight Fisto’s blacker-than-black eyes are not black at all. They are a warm honeyed-gold, flecked with blue from the sky. “Time is short, and most of ours is filled with brutality and turmoil . . .” he flashes those too-perfect teeth. Again. “So, go on then, fill as much time as you can with happiness.”

“ALL ABOARD! WE WILL DEPART IN ONE MINUTE.”

“May the Force be with you,” Fisto bids them, then turns on his sandaled heels, tentacles bouncing, and sprints for the freighter.

As Fisto rushes away his toga skirt flares upward and –

By the Force.

Fisto is definitely not wearing any underwear. And his bare ass . . . well, it looks just as holoporn-worthy as the rest of him. The Nautolan probably possesses the two most flawlessly firm green globes in the galaxy. And, really, Anakin expected nothing less.

Several nearby senients squeal in horny delight – like they’ve been flashed by some celebrity heartthrob. An older female Rodian swoons and sways on her feet like she’s about to faint. Fortunately her traveling companion steadies her, though his jaw has nearly dropped to the walkway.

Anakin is surprised to hear himself laughing, and, damn, it actually sounds and feels . . . good. “May the Force be with you, too, Master!” Anakin calls after Fisto, straining his voice over the whirring engine and roaring thrusters.

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan barely whispers. Anakin doubts Fisto even heard him, though he’s certain that the Nautolan feels the sentiment.

Anakin and Obi-Wan watch as Fisto’s tentacles disappear up the closing loading ramp. Within three heartbeats the freighter launches into the bright sky, fading away toward the outer rim.

Anakin’s mirth fades along with the freighter. A new concern has wriggled into his brain. “Does Fisto even have his lightsaber? He can’t possibly be keeping it inside that satchel. The first thing the slavers will do is search his belongings.”

Obi-Wan frowns thoughtfully. “He would not be storing it in the satchel, no.”

“Then where . . .”

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My next update with be the final chapter! 🥲

[zomgcaleb]

NSFW— minors do not interact

cw— creampie

thinking abt Caleb’s big dick </3

you want to blame it on him, say it’s his fault and swear that he does it on purpose. but you know he’s not. he can’t help it that he’s so deliciously hung.

somehow he manages to tuck it into his pants in just the right way that leaves you wondering, but behind closed doors when the day is said and done it’s like he sets it loose. he walks around in his boxers or a baggy pair of pj pants, ones that barely contain the sizable bulge that tents under his waistband.

he’s not trying to seduce you but it works all the same.

you almost feel bad when he catches you ogling him. those pretty purple puppy dog eyes gaze down at you with a sinful innocence that makes you huff.

it’s thick and heavy. so so heavy it makes you drool just thinking about the feeling of it in your hands. it stands tall and proud and so pathetically hard for you. it’s pretty. so pretty in the way it seems to challenge you when it twitches and bobs for your attention.

he knows it’s big but he doesn’t know it’s big. he’s just been hauling it around with him all this time not knowing how full it’d make you. how you cry and push your palm against his abs as he humps in and out of you.

“too much too much!” you’d slur into the sheets and he wouldn’t know what to do. is his dick not supposed to be this big?? is he hurting you?? is it normal to feel every twitch and clench of your pussy from all sides like he is right now?? because it’s making him lose his damn mind.

“are you okay? d-does it hurt?” his voice is light but rough as if it was ripped from his diaphragm. the fingers that hold your waist tighten and dip into your skin as he forces himself to slow down.

you pant absentmindedly in response. your core burns violently in the best way possible. Caleb hits every spot all at once and each thrust stretches you out so good. his cock head kisses your g spot so firmly yet so tender, sending you spiraling into a filthy mess. he’s not even going as hard as you told him to and you’re about to cum all over him anyway.

“pips.” he calls. the bed dips beside your head as he leans over you, pressing a loving kiss to your temple and nuzzling into your cheek with his nose. your cunt hasn’t stopped trying to suck him in and he whines and whimpers into your neck in feeble resistance.

“i’m here. just—Caleb, you’re so biggg.” you drawl. “you give it to me so good can’t take it.”

he pulls away to look at you and his lips part to speak but the sexiest moan rips from his throat to interrupt him as you rut your hips back into him. his girthy length slides and catches on all the right ridges and you cry in ecstasy.

the coil in his abdomen suddenly snaps and he’s pumping the fattest of loads right into your womb and you feel it in your throat, the addicting heat swirls in your stomach and the gift keeps giving. it starts to spurt and leak, leaving a milky ring around the base of him, some spilling out to stain the sheets. ‘i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry’ his lips brush the shell of your ear as he chants and his chest presses into your back to anchor you.

all you can hear is the deafening squelching of his seed getting fucked into you and his pitchy wails of your name.

no wonder he’s so big. he’s just so full of creamy white love for you can you feel it? you’ll take it all for him right? :(

[authorscurse]

Sylus watched as you applied different products onto your face. He finds it amusing how you turn into an artist with the way you paint your face as if it's a canvas.

He watches you with such a soft and endearing expression on his face that it almost makes you forget how ruthless and merciless your husband is as the leader of onychinus.

His gaze follows your form as you walk into your walk-in closet and retrieve your dress. It was a silk red off-shoulder dress with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that reached your mid thigh. It showed your dips and curves that complimented your body shape. You walk out the closet with your hand holding onto the front of the dress to keep it from falling.

Without a word, Sylus walks up to you and helps zip you up. You watch your husband through the mirror as he zips you up, his eyes never leaving he skin on your back. Once you were zipped up, Sylus leans down and places sof kisses on to your should and neck. Your hands fly up to his already styled hair and thread your fingers through the silver locks.

"So beautiful, kitten," Sylus whispers onto your ear as he meets your eyes through the mirror. Your eyes close, and your back leans back to Sylus's chest as he continues to lay kisses on your bare skin.

"We'll be late, Sy," you whisper to him, but he ignores your words and continues littering kisses on your skin. His hands fall on your hips and turn you around, and back you up to the floor length mirror. You gasp as your skin touches the cold mirror but your notes gets drown out when sylus connects your lips together.

"So, so beautiful," Sylus says between kisses. Your red lipstick stains his lips but he couldn't care less. "Sylus," you gasp and push him away gently to take in air that he had restricted you from. He grabs your wrists and lift them up your head and dive back to trap your lips into a kiss. One hand holds your wristwhole the other trails down your leg and lift it up onto his hip.

"Sy, we'll be late," you gasp as he turns his attention to your bare neck. "Don't leave marks," you whine as you feel him sucking on your skin, but you know he'll ignore you and leave marks anyway. Possessive bastard.

"Let's not go," Sylus murmurs onto your lips as he pants. You shake your head. You both have been wanting to go out and eat dinner together after so long and it's hard to place reservations at the new opened resteraunt down town.

"I'll adjust the reservation to tomorrow, how about that, kitten?" He asks, eyes swirling with so much desperation, lust, and yearning. You know you don't have a chance to say no when he looks at you like that so you sigh in response and you watch his smirk widening. He lifts you up properly this time, with both hands holding your legs and lips locked with yours as he carries you onto your shared bed.

"You better make sure we're eating out tomorrow, Sylus," you voice firmly and serious. "Wouldn't want to make the missus angry," Sylus smirks and captures your lips into a heated kiss.

Meanwhile...

"They aren't gonna eat out anymore, are they?" Kieran asks despite knowing the answer. Luke sighs and lifts up kyro up the floor. "Come on little boss, big boss and miss hunter are busy," Luke says as he carries you and Sylus's son into his room to block out the ungodly noises they'll be hearing the whole evening.

[definitelynotanalien]

chigiri doesn’t notice when you’re all dolled up for him

lightly inspired by song ‘Miniskirt’ by AOA

“Why are you the only one who hasn’t noticed?” You ask your boyfriend, Chigiri, motioning towards your body.

You’re dolled up, and you’re sure you look amazing. You’ve put in a tad more effort in your outfit, hair, and makeup than you usually do, and that’s resulted in quite a few compliments from your friends. But the only one who hasn’t complimented you is your beloved boyfriend, he hasn’t even commented on your outfit, not even the oh so revealing miniskirt.

Your eyebrows furrow, and you narrow your eyes, evaluating him with a long look.

He bats his red eyes at you, “Noticed what?” he asks with a fake innocent look. Only you could notice the corners of his mouth twitching up, much to your chigrin.

“You know what I’m talking about.” You rebutt, waving to your outfit as if the man opposing you is the most stupid person alive. Honestly, he might be if he keeps pushing his luck and pissing you off.

He pauses, tapping his chin tauntingly and pouting. He has the prettiest dark eyelashes as he slowly blinks his eyes as if thinking, and he takes the most infuriatingly long time to think.

“I truly don’t.” Chigiri responds with a shrug, narrowly preventing his lips from finally returning to their natural place of a smirk, instead he keeps his supposedly neutral and nonchalant expression.

You sigh melodramatically, your mouth twisting into a mean frown “My outfit. My hair. My makeup. You haven’t complimented it!”

It’s a bit ridiculous, how you care so much about his opinion on something like this, but it’s you nonetheless. He’s your boyfriend, and your friend, he should be complimenting something you spent so much time on! Or at least appreciating your efforts.

“Brat.” He spits out, with a grin. “So needy, aren’t you?”

He flicks his long red-pink locks over his shoulder, and tilts his head to the side as he leans towards you ever so slightly. Poking your nose with a wicked smirk that looks much too familiar on his face.

“Chigiri, I'm so serious right now.” You say, you did not spend so much time into your outfit for him to just tease you like this. You were wearing a damn miniskirt for god’s sake, and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

Chigiri shakes his head “Fine, fine. You do look…” he pauses, contemplating his next words before stating them with a teasing smile “Decent.”

The world stops for a moment, you consider taking his words at heart and holding them against him, but you choose not to. Instead you question his comment.

“Decent?”

“Perhaps a bit above average.” He replys, squeezing his fingers together to leave a small gap in between. He gives you a quick, chaste, kiss on the cheek and leans into you.

“I’m actually going to murder you.”

Chigiri takes off running.

[djotime-allthetime]

Freaky Redheads

synopsis: interactions between you and fred hechinger at a red carpet event for gladiator ii.

wc: 2.5k+

rpf!!! don't like, don't read!!!

a/n: i love that soft, sweet, adorable man with all of my heart. my inspiration is how fred talks about sherry. the monkey. i'm down bad bro.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of these interviews. i definitely have more in mind for these two, but we'll see how this goes. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

next part>>

The flashing cameras and yelling reporters have started to become the new normal, which was so not normal for you. You couldn't believe how far you'd come.

Granted, your role in the movie was definitely more in the supporting cast territory, but you couldn't deny how massive the production was. But even as a supporting actress, you still had quite a bit of screen time as the unnamed favorite concubine to Emperor Caracalla.

The fans who knew you called out your name from behind the velvet ropes and you smiled and waved as you walked by.

"y/n! y/n! Over here!" A reporter called out. You nodded and smiled as you approached, indicating your acceptance of the carpet-side interview. Your agent had warned you that not every journalist might want to speak with you and that you should accept any interview you came by. Thankfully, as the start of your night would show, that wasn't the case.

"Hello!" You beamed, coming to a stop in front of the camera. The reporter greeted you back and handed you a microphone glued to a mini Romanesque column. "Oh, wow. I love the microphone!"

"Thank you," She smiled. With a quick glance at her blouse, you saw a name tag that said 'MTV UK: Claire'. "It was my idea, actually."

"Incredibly creative! They should give you a raise, Claire."

"If you wouldn't mind saying that directly into the camera..." Claire trailed off with a chuckle and a mischievous glint to her eye.

You shot the camera as serious a look as you could muster. "MTV, if you do not give this woman a raise, I will riot in the streets."

"Alright alright, enough of that." Claire laughed out loud with a few shakes of her head. "You look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, this old thing?" You smiled bashfully, grabbing at your skirt to twirl it around. The styling department had made sure that all the gowns worn during press had some Roman inspiration behind them. The piece you were wearing was off white in color, representing your character's position in society. Even with your character in mind, your dress was still breathtaking. The gown was composed of yards and yards of fabric, giving it this dreamy, flowy silhouette. The neckline was so beautiful, in the cowl style and draped ever so slightly off your shoulders. To say that you loved it would be an understatement. "Thank you very much, you look amazing yourself."

"But you are on a different level!" Claire gasped, no doubt to return the topic to you. Just like you were media trained, the reporters were too. "What was the thought process behind your look tonight?"

Your eyes lit up as this was something you had wanted to talk about. "Well, the styling department and I actually workshopped this look together. Of course we wanted it to be glamorous, this is the red carpet after all. But we also wanted to show the character through the outfits, you know?" She nodded along.

"Right, your character was quite impactful even with the few lines you had." Claire added, and you smiled in thanks.

"Yeah, thank you." You felt your face heat up at the compliment. "We wanted to still be true to her, under all the glitz and glamour. So that's why we went with the understated color, to not only show her position in society but also her demeanor throughout the film."

"But your jewellery is anything but understated." She laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself." You laughed with her.

"Give us a quick tour."

You were almost dripping in gold, from your head to your toes. "We've got the hair piece." You brought a hand up to show the gold pins connected with chains littering your up-do. "Earrings upon earrings, all hoops." You pulled a strand back to show off your right ear clearly. Some were clip on earrings as you didn't have quite enough piercings to get them all. "The necklaces, of course. Some bracelets, some rings. But I think this cuff on my upper arm is my favorite."

"And these are all borrowed pieces from different brands?"

"Most of them are, yes." You confirmed with a nod. "But some are from my private collection. And some I might steal." You joked, getting a laugh out of Claire.

"Well, you really knocked it out of the park." Claire smiled, a tone of finality in her voice that showed you the interview was coming to a close. "And before we let you go, we've got one question we're asking everyone tonight. I think we can all agree that the cast of this movie is full of beautiful men." You giggled, a bit surprised at the turn in topic. "But people on the internet have separated them into two categories."

"Oh, have they now?" You asked, unaware of what she was talking about.

"Yes, they have. Gen Z has divided them into the brooding brunets and the freaky redheads." She explained, pulling up two little hand held signs. One with Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, the brooding brunets, and the other with Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger, the freaky redheads.

You couldn't contain the surprised laugh that escaped you at the sight of their little printed faces. "Oh my goodness!"

"So, as the resident Gen Z-er on the cast, who is your pick?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm the only representation of Gen Z here." You mused as you grabbed both the signs from Claire. You lifted up the 'freaky redheads' sign and pointed to Fred. "My friend is right there with me in the Gen Z territory."

"Alright, as the representation of Gen Z women, which team is more your style?" Claire asked as you studied the signs. "People are saying they went into the movie for the brunets and came out converted to team redheads."

"That's actually really funny," You chuckled as you looked down at both signs. "This is hard." You mumbled. A small smirk found itself on your lips as you thought of Fred seeing this clip later. Someone no doubt showing it to him, as he wouldn't find it on his own. "I feel like- yeah." You nodded with determination. "I'm gonna have to go with Fred- I'm going with team freaky redheads." You nodded. "I think it would be treacherous otherwise."

"Good choice. You'd break Emperor Caracalla's heart."

"And then he'd have my head." You laughed, stepping back. "Thank you for your great questions."

"Thank you for your time." Claire waved as you walked away. "We're gonna have a tally going throughout the night, and we'll see who wins. Team brooding brunets, or team freaky redheads." You heard her say to the camera as you moved further down the carpet.

'She looks so pretty!!'

'i love the thought process behind the outfit, you can tell she really loved her character'

'the reporter asked y/n if she prefers lucius and acacius or geta and caracalla and this girl really said FRED 💀'

'i love seeing new faces in hollywood, give young new actors a chance!!' ↳ 'right?? im so sick of them recycling the same actors for every big budget movie'

'she mentioned fred, not caracalla, twice, unprompted. i see you, y/n. you're just like us.' ↳ 'have you seen his interviews? he's literally the cutest i cant blame her 🥺'

A few steps down, another reporter flagged you down. This time, the questions were more centered around the acting itself.

"And was it difficult? In a previous interview, you've said that your character's growth was significant, but she had almost no lines in the movie."

"Yeah, I think in the final cut she only has... three lines?" You winced, looking upwards as you tried to recall what was and wasn't cut. "Though I'm not sure."

"So there were scenes where she could've said more?"

"Oh yeah, for sure! There was a lot of experimentation with my character throughout filming. Ridley's a genius and he was kind enough to truly take in my suggestions. There were times where I felt like she would actually stay quiet during a scene, whereas other times I felt like she would speak up. But yeah," You breathed in and furrowed your brows in thought as you tried to focus your answer back to the original question. "It was definitely a challenge. I had to really work on my micro-expressions. Lots of research, lots of practice. And lots of trust, too. With a character like mine, I really relied on Fr- on my fellow actors in those scenes. So yeah, definitely challenging. But who doesn’t love a good challenge?"

"And did you take any inspiration from other people's work? Any source material that helped you out as you built your character?"

"Of course!" You smiled, a hint of humor in your tone as you thought of your response. "Yeah, I did. Actually, one of the biggest inspirations for my role, believe it or not, was Ferb. From 'Phineas and Ferb'."

"The- The children's show?" The interviewer questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, Ridley thought it was brilliant!" You laughed. "We watched compilations of Ferb scenes on youtube together. And I know that Fred- Fred Hechinger, who plays Emperor Caracalla-, he also brought up Sid Vicious with Ridley, as well as other sources like that. Sir Ridley Scott has great taste, there's no denying that."

'ferb as inspiration for a movie like this,,, gen z in the film industry really are the gift that keeps on giving'

'im just imagining y/n and ridley scott curled up on the couch watching phineas and ferb reruns. that man is 86 years old. this is brilliant.'

'bro didn't even have to say anything and y/n still brought up fred 💀'

'the gen z cast members making ridley scott watch cartoons is sending me'

'not her pretending she didn't mean to say fred when she talked about trust, we all heard you y/n'

Unbeknownst to you, Fred's interviews were going much like yours, only a few feet behind you on the carpet.

"You look amazing today!" Claire, the same reporter you spoke to, told Fred during his first interview on the carpet.

"Thank you, thank you." He replied bashfully as he tried to subtly look around for you, but he couldn't see you just yet. "Everyone looks so great, everyone."

She asked him a few questions and then came time for her ending segment.

"Alright, to close off, we've got a little game here."

"A game?" Fred smiled with raised brows. "I love games." He said softly, not realizing that the microphone would pick it up.

"Yes, a quick one. You just have to choose between team brooding brunets and team freaky redheads. We've asking everyone to join."

"Woah!" Fred exclaimed as he received the signs. "That's me." He pointed out his own face in the picture of him and Joseph. "What are we basing our choice on here?"

"Well, the internet is battling on who is more attractive."

"Oh my god." Fred chortled, not expecting that answer. "Who's played the game?" He asked, still examining the hand held signs.

"As of now, we've spoken to Joseph Quinn, Connie Nielsen, and y/n l/n." Claire recounted.

Fred's eyes lit up and his cheeks reddened at the mention of your name. "And what's the- what's the consensus so far?"

"It's two to one. Can you guess who's in the lead?" Claire asked.

"Let me think... Well, Joseph -my brother-, he definitely voted for us." He pondered aloud as he counted the votes off on his fingers. "Connie... I think Connie went for team brunets. I mean, it's her husband. She's gotta." He grinned when it came to you. "y/n chose me, right? We're in the lead?"

"Yeah, you're right on all counts! You really know your cast members." Claire laughed. "y/n didn't want to anger Emperor Caracalla."

"Oh, she couldn't. I’ve got too much of a soft spot for her." Fred shook his head emphatically.

"So, are you keeping team redheads in the lead? Or will you give us a tie?"

"No, I'm going team redheads!" Fred exclaimed. "I'm not helping out my competition, no way!"

'this man has bewitched me with his beautiful eyes and calming demeanor'

'he always calls joe his brother im CRYINGGG'

'did you see his face when they mention y/n, this man can't hide his crush for the life of him 🥺' ↳ 'neither can she lol'

'what do yall know about fred hechinger 🗣️🗣️🗣️'

'fred immediately knowing that y/n chose him, kill me right now.' ↳ 'mind you the choice was caracalla. she still said 'fred' and he said 'me'. can they be more obvious?'

'the way this man said 'i love games' protect him at all costs'

‘he said ‘i’ve got a soft spot for her’ is this the year of men yearning?’ ↳ ‘it’s just the paul mescal effect’

It was during his next interview that he saw you. He was talking about his experience building the character of Emperor Caracalla with Sir Ridley Scott as well as Joseph Quinn when he finally caught sight of you. You had spent a bit longer with a specific reporter down the carpet, causing Fred to catch up to you. 

“Of course, y/n was a great help as well.” He smiled, reaching over to brush against your elbow to catch your attention. At the perfect time, too, because you had just finished talking to the reporter in front of you.

“Oh, Fred!” You beamed, coming over to give him a hug. 

“Look at you.” Fred spoke against your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug and brought you into his side in front of the camera, almost like he was showing you off. “Look at her, isn’t she stunning.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes as you tried your best not to show how his compliment affected you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just had to say hello.”

“No worries,” the reporter reassured you. “Fred was actually saying how you helped with the building of his character.”

“Yeah, we worked really closely during pre-production actually.” You nodded, acutely aware of Fred’s hands on you. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket while his other arm draped across your waist, his hand resting against your hip. “My character was almost like Caracalla’s sidekick, so the motives for all her actions are really based around him.”

“I’d argue that she was more of a mirror, actually.” You turned to look at Fred, never passing up an opportunity to hear his view on these things. “She’s the complete opposite of Caracalla, but in a way she represents who he truly is under all the pressure of being in Geta’s shadow.”

“And under all the syphilis, of course.” You added, causing Fred to giggle.

“Yeah, and under the syphilis.”

‘he seems like such a sweet guy 🥺’

‘did you see his face when he saw her???  😫😫😫 theyre in love, your honor’

‘him showing her off like that is peak soft boyfriend behavior’

‘they just called me single in seven different languages’

‘his laugh is actually so cute, who is this man and why am i in love with him? ���’ ↳ 'get in line' ↳'behind y/n, you mean?'

‘the way he’s touching her???? im just gonna go take a nap in front of an oncoming train’

‘im calling it, new hollywood it couple’

‘look at how he looks at her!!! may this love find me 🙏’

[murderofravens]

this account is a safe space for evil girls and girls with daddy issues and especially girls who want frontman or lee byung hun to be their father

[cloudedgalaxies]

ANYWAYS Idiyuu is Hades and Persephone conspiracy:

Persephone is not from the Underworld. She is called back to the Mortal Realm eventually because she has to return. Yuu is literally from another world. They are not suited to Twisted Wonderland, and are nothing like Idia has ever seen. They have to go back eventually.

Hades is probably one of the few TWST boys to have a “canon” spouse (at least in Greek mythology, which Hercules’ Hades is obviously based on). On top of that, Hades and Persephone is the love story between death and life, isolation and abundance, ending and rebirth. Idia is a gloomy, pessimistic boy who has been condemned to be the keeper of the Underworld. Yuu is a kind, gentle prefect who has been there to help and has helped everyone they know, again and again. 

Night Raven College has been in a ‘winter’ for all of its history. Everyone is hostile to everyone, no one wants to cooperate or work together, and every single person there has some ulterior motive. In comes Yuu, who is a breath of fresh air. A new perspective. A new season. They bring ‘spring,’ showing people that they can bloom. They can harbor feelings that aren’t cruel. They can do things that aren’t harsh. And slowly, they start to thaw. Flowers of friendship and something gentler bloom. Yuu is there to help pull the boys from their darkest moments to see the light again. Idia is no exception.

I think that the way Book 6 was set up makes Idia and Yuu seem a lot more meaningful honestly, though I'm probably reading way too into things lol. Yuu originally goes to the Island of Woe to save Grim. They don’t particularly care much about what’s going on with Idia—they just want to get Grim back. But then later, once they realize what’s going on, they do. There isn’t much, if any, personal connection to Idia’s overblot like there was with all the others. Yuu doesn’t have to do anything to help. And yet, they still do. Even after Idia basically kidnapped Grim, they still help him. They still try to end his winter.

Persephone, in many forms of the myth, didn't originally go to the Underworld willingly. But eventually, she came to love Hades, and they were happy together. Idia and Yuu have no reason to care about the other at first. But they eventually do, after everything that happens and everything that brings them together.

Hades and Persephone are in a constant push and pull. Persephone has to leave because if she stays, winter will never end. She does not want to leave, because she loves Hades. Yuu has to leave Twisted Wonderland, because they have a home beyond it that they need to return to. And yet, they don't want to leave because they love Idia. Idia doesn't want them to go, because it finally feels like spring again. But the seasons have to continue in their cycle, so what can they do?

Also, I think it’s really funny and really beautiful how Idia and Yuu’s first meeting was probably the Ghost Marriage event. This guy who thinks he has 0 rizz ends up having to be saved by some strange new isekai'd student and their gang of potential suitors before he gets his first kiss and promptly dies afterwards. Idia, the boy surrounded by death, is saved by the prefect who seems to be giving everyone a new chance at life. Imagine how poetic it’d be if Yuu and Idia end up getting married in the end, except now neither of them are going to die and they have the rest of their new lives together. There will be winter, but there will also be spring. The cycle of seasons will continue, but flowers will always bloom. They will always return to each other.

[ghost-proofbaby]

can y’all imagine sending one of those things where a girl texts her man about having a bad day or wanting coffee or something and he replies by sending her an insane amount of money (like $100+) to eddie, and just being like “why don’t you ever do this for me? 😐” as a joke

and then the man just sends you one (1) fucking dollar.

and when you’re like “REALLY??? A DOLLAR???” he just goes “I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME IM BROKE”

it would become an inside joke, him randomly sending you the smallest amounts of money possible and just going “buy yourself something nice 😏” or “don’t spend this all at once baby” to be a little shit

god i love eddie munson

[himbo-kuto]

idol!reader x doctor!zayne

(visuals: one | two | three)

reader is performing a song with some suggestive lyrics to hundreds and thousands of people. 

caleb | rafayel | zayne | sylus | xavier 

“are you sure there’s no way for us to thank you? this is incredible!” yvonne, held your hand as she looked around the room of lavish assorted food and beverage. you shook your head as you gave hers a reassuring squeeze. 

“not at all. you guys have done so much for me and everyone at akso. this is the least i can do to show my appreciation. please eat, drink and enjoy.” you had been nominated at linkon’s annual artist awards and you wanted to invite the people who had made it all possible. earlier in the year you had some complications with your protocore syndrome and of course, with zayne being your partner and doctor, him and his team were extensive in their care. you were able to release your album on time and even though promotion was limited, it was still widely received– hence why you were in your current position. 

“i’m sure you don’t need it, but best of luck in your category.” greyson gave you a sweet smile as he held up his fists in encouragement. you laughed as you mimicked his actions. 

“thank you. cheer for me extra loud if i win, okay?” you felt zayne’s hand that was resting on your waist give you a reassuring squeeze. even though he had attended a few carpets and events with you in the past, it was still very foreign to him. he rarely left your side, always within close proximity to you (if you didn’t have to go do an interview or perform). he was your biggest fan and supporter even if the job demanded so much of you. he had known first hand the trials and tribulations you went through to get here. he was always so immensely proud of you and in his mind, you already won. 

the door opened and your manager poked her head through. 

“we have about an hour until your performance. we should go and get into costume and warm up.” you nodded your head understandingly before leaning up to give zayne a kiss on the cheek. 

“make sure to watch me out there dr.zayne.” you quickly whispered in his ear, flashing him a wink before heading over to your manager.

“enjoy everyone!” the blush crept up on zayne's cheeks, as he lightly cleared his throat. 

“are you hot dr.zayne? you look a bit red!”

as your team adjusted your makeup and dolled up your hair, you felt your heart pounding (and not because of your condition) you had been practicing this stage for weeks making sure all the moving parts were perfect. not only did you want to put on a good performance for your fans, but in a major way you were dedicating this stage to zayne. you wore a sheer, icy blue coverup and a breathtaking bedazzled corset one piece that hugged your curves oh so perfectly all inspired by him.

“5 minutes to stage.” 

you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding as your makeup team did their final touches. you thanked them all before heading to the backstage area. even in the fluorescent lights, the gems on your bodice caught the light and sparkled– many of your friends stopped to shower you with compliments before being rushed by the crew. 

you ducked as you got into position on the platform that was going to rise up onto the stage. you all gave your team a look of appreciation as the mc began announcing your name. you felt the butterflies in your stomach as the crowd roared to life. the first few notes from sabrina carpenter’s bed chem starting playing in your in-ears as the platform brought you up to center stage. 

zayne felt the air get knocked out of him as he saw you rise up out of the haze. you were mesmerizing. your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup was smoked out to the gods giving you the perfect sultry look. the gems glistened under the stage lights like snow does in the moonlight and he felt the world stop. the cheers from yvonne and greyson fell upon deaf ears as all he could focus on was your performance. 

“dr.zayne, she looks absolutely amazing doesn’t she?” yvonne looked over to the man, her sentence quickly fading out into the air. he had such a focused look on his face– the kind she only saw when he was fully immersed in a task– nothing but you could get him out of a trance like that.

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket And the all black fit? Like Maybe it's all in my head But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

zayne knew that one of your favorite outfits of his, albeit simple, was his all black outfit– the way that you would admire him especially if he was wearing his white doctor’s coat made him blush under your gaze. the fact that you changed the lyrics to mention it, well– he was on the verge of a feral crash out.

Come right on me, I mean, camaraderie Said you're not in my time zone but you wanna be Where art thou? Why not upon-eth me? See it in my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy

zayne li was the epitome of composure, no matter the circumstance. he was always the most level headed person in any room– the chaos in the ER was child’s play, performing the most complicated heart surgeries without breaking a sweat, aiding hunter’s on the battlefield– nothing. however, upon hearing the first line of the second verse, he fully choked on air. greyson and yvonne quickly came to aid by patting his back and offering him some water, but not before laughing at him first.

“you alright there, doctor?” greyson wiggled his eyebrows over at the dark haired man, continuing to laugh at the loss of his poise. zayne shot him a quick glare, not wanting to take his eyes off you. 

Who's the cute guy with the wide, green eyes And the big bad mm? Like I know it sound a bit redundant But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

you were going to be the death of him. 

he watched as you continued down the stage, interacting with different members of the audience as you riffed your little heart out to these lewd lyrics. one thing about zayne? he was taking notes. from the lyrics, to the choreography, he stored it all up in his brain to surely use to his advantage when you both got home later. 

“thank you, linkon. i love you!”

the stage ended with the audience screaming nothing but cheers and praise. you blew a kiss up to the booth where you knew zayne was watching before the lights turned out. 

…

after your performance, you all sat in assigned seats out in the audience for the awards portion. you were nervous and you didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, but you really wanted to win. as the categories went on, they finally got to yours. the cameras set up in front of you ready to catch your reaction. the nerves finally caught up with you as they began to bubble up in your stomach. all you could do in this moment was smile for the camera. zayne gave your upper thigh a squeeze in attempts to calm your nerves. you let out a deep breath before putting your hands on top of his. 

“and the award goes to…” there was a silence that felt like an eternity as they opened the envelope. the name came out muffled, but you could've sworn it was yours. the outbreak of cheers from around you was so loud it rang in your ears but before you could fully register what was happening, zayne pulled you onto your feet and into a crushing embrace. 

“you won, my love.” 

it was the only thing you could hear in that moment– not the applause from the audience, greyson screaming at the top of his lungs or even yvonne crying her eyes out for you. you pulled away to look at him, as the tears pooled into the corners of your eyes. he gave you a brief kiss before pulling back to let you have your moment. he gestured for you to make your way out to the stage where you now saw your peers cheering you on. you absentmindedly made your way up, graciously accepting the award.

“wow– um– i didn’t think i would be up here accepting this award. thank you to all my fans who have been so patient with me as i’ve been dealing with some health problems in the beginning of the year. even though this is me accepting this award, everyone who was nominated in this category is so insanely talented and i want to share this with them as well. to my team, my staff, my company, my management– thank you so much for supporting me. to the amazing team and friends at akso hospital who have helped me get back on my feet–” 

you finally locked eyes with the man who had your whole heart. you saw his eyes glistening– a look that told you everything you needed to know– i’m so proud of you. 

you felt your emotions swell, as the words got caught in your throat. you attempted to smile as your lips quivered. 

“to my love, my heart– thank you for always believing in me and pushing me to my fullest potential. i love you.” 

–

bonus:

“i’m sorry, she can’t come into rehearsal today. it seems that she’s come down with a bit of a cold from all the festivities yesterday.” you listened to the sound of zayne’s heartbeat as you laid on his bare chest. you covered your mouth to muffle your giggles as he blatantly lied to your manager. 

“she should be okay within the next couple of days… yes, i’ll be sure to keep my eye on her and makes sure she gets lots of rest… yes, thank you. bye.” he hung up the phone and placed it on the nightstand. he wrapped his arms back around you as you pulled you in close. 

“you know i could lose my medical license for giving a false diagnosis.” you sat up, giving his cheek a kiss. 

“thank you, oh brave dr.zayne for putting your license on the line to tell my manager a little white lie.” he let out a chuckle as he tucked some stray hairs behind your ear. he ran his eyes down your neck and chest, all riddled with traces of him. 

“well, love. do you think we have really good bed chem?” you ducked back into his chest as you laughed out loud. it was true. you and zayne really did have good bed chem. a theory that he made sure to test over and over and over again– just to make sure he had an accurate result. 

“hmm.. let me see. i had to call out of work because i can barely walk, i have an array of different marks and bruises all over my body, and to top it off– my fake eyelash is stuck to the head board.” you reached upward, picking off the strip lash to show the doctor. 

“so i think that warrants for extremely good bed chem dr.zayne.” 

[yurozo]

holidays headcanons (resident evil)

┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐ characters: chris, leon, jill, claire, rebecca, carlos, luis, ada, wesker warnings: mentions of alcohol, some swearing.

a/n: i know this is late but all the recent love for the restaurant au inspired me!! check that one out here! love u pookies and i hope you had a great holidays <3 if you want me to cover anyone else, or have any other suggestions for au's please let me know! └─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

chris redfield:

this man comes for one reason and one reason alone: the food. you best believe chris redfield is grabbing two plates piled sky-high and scarfing it down before the rest have even served themselves. because of a particular incident involving leon and a nerf gun, chris has been banished to the kids table for the foreseeable future. he gets to sit there with (baby) sherry in a shitty little plastic barbie chair that claire bought off amazon-- the legs are bowing under his weight and are clearly destined to snap during some point in the night. as for the games, chris takes no part in it. why? he's stone cold passed out in the lazyboy. i'm talking full on snoring, scratching at his chest, mouth open, and drooling asleep. nothing is waking that man up from his food coma, other than literally firing a gun three inches away from his ears.

as for you, chris softens a little bit. he'll reluctantly indulge whatever you want to do, even if he's grumbling about it a little the whole time. this man is a practical gift giver, unless claire gets involved and gets you something indulgent in chris' name. if it were up to chris alone, he's replacing whatever you have that's worn down or unusable. he just wants to see you comfortable and stress-free, and he really doesn't have the mind for other things.

leon kennedy:

respectfully, he's the typical white dad of the group. he eats a good amount of mashed potatoes and roast beef, downs a couple whiskeys, and he's out for the count. there's been a couple occasions that he's gotten a little too rowdy, and relentlessly barraged the dinner table with whatever one-liners or borderline traumatic stories that come to his mind. he's fine, he swears, it really was funny that time he almost got blown up.

god forbid sherry grows up and starts bringing partners around the place, leon takes it upon themselves to act like her personal bodyguard. he'll sit in an armchair and stare daggers at them every time they so much as touch her, and it takes a while for him to warm up to them. for the games, do NOT ask that man to play charades. honestly, it will just be embarrassing for the both of you.

leon really does try his best when it comes to you. his gifts are usually something you eyed while out with him somewhere, which he very sneakily bought while you weren't looking. however, he's downright terrible at hiding it for you if he buys it ahead of time. you have to just act surprised and loving about the whole thing, and leon's putty in your hands. there's always a hand around your waist when you're in the vicinity, and leon loves to brag about your title in casual conversations. (eg. "yeah, my wife/husband is a pretty good cook. it's no big deal")

jill valentine:

jill's been banned from helping in the kitchen for five years. it's not her fault, honestly, she got a little too distracted sharing war stories with the others that she forgot the yorkshires were still in the oven. she'll happily eat everything though, or bring a store-bought dessert if need be. every single year, she takes photos of chris passed out in the armchair until she can make a photo album to gift him. there's a framed photo of chris mid-fall after the barbie chair finally gave way that's hanging above the fireplace, courtesy of her. also likes to take lil sips of leons whiskey when he's not looking since he always brings the good stuff.

she claims that she doesn't get into the games, but she gets super intense about charades to the point that everyone's reluctant to team up with her. she's shouting answers like there's a ticking bomb that will go off when the time runs out, and she'll scold you if she thinks your acting performance wasn't oscar worthy. she's flinging around a beer can during the whole thing and nearly soaking everyone in the vicinity.

when you start coming around for the holidays, jill visibly relaxes. she can let a lot of her guard down, and everyone likes to give her shit about how lovesick and happy she becomes. she's also a victim of the practical gift giving trait, but occasionally she likes to buy you something just because she thinks you would look nice in it. but there's always an extra gift at home that she won't let you open in front of the others, she has to maintain some sort of dignity.

claire redfield:

her and rebecca are the only reasons this tradition goes on for as long as it does. rebecca does most of the logistics, claire is the one who keeps that ship running while it's happening. the two of them are such a scary pair when they want shit done, that everyone else just has to follow along. claire is the one that banished chris to the kids table, but still lingers around to keep an eye on sherry and make sure she's eating enough. when sherry's old enough to bring partners around, she's the welcoming one, and will secretly jab leon in the ribs whenever he starts acting up.

claire likes to experiment with the games every single year, usually after incidents or fights break out. white elephant got banned after four different people just bought gift cards to the gun store (im assuming this exists there, im canadian). she's shaking the box of names aggressively at anyone who tries to get away, and will tip chris right out of that damn chair. they rarely get to be together with all the missions, so help her god they're going to enjoy it.

you're the first person claire actually brings around. sure, she's had relationships, but bringing you around to family christmas is a big deal. and don't worry, everyone else will tell you just how much of a big deal it is. you're the first person she tells everything too, and on the drive there, she's giving you a full run down on what she thinks of everyone (claire has very strong opinions). for gifts, she loves to buy you things. her favourite gifts are outfits either you can wear on her motorcycle, or matching clothes she painted herself.

rebecca chambers:

the holidays are a stressful time for her. not only does she have to cook for the most ravenous group of people that definitely do not cook for themselves enough, but she has to make sure they don't kill each other during it. despite that, dinner is always amazing, and the desserts are just to die for. she takes a special pride in her desserts, and if a couple extra supplements sneak themselves into the dinner, she definitely does not know anything about that. one of the few things that gets her through the holidays is the extra sweet hot chocolate and egg nog concoction that she makes for herself. leon tried it one time by accident and nearly gagged at just how sweet it was.

rebecca is very into the games and gifts section. it's the one time she gets to sit down and relax a little bit, and she does love how intense everyone gets about the whole thing. she's just happy that everyone can get together, and maybe relax after everything that's happened. despite her enthusiasm and smarts, she is downright terrible at charades. her answers are always way too complex for the minute they have to guess whatever she's miming. how the hell is anyone supposed to guess t-011 from hand gestures?

rebecca is by far the best gift giver out of the bunch. whatever she buys you is well-thought out, personal, and helpful. she likes to have you hang around the kitchen while she cooks, and will always feed you little spoonfuls under the guise of taste-testing. really, she just wants to make sure you eat, especially before chris can get his grubby little hands on the entrees.

luis sera:

leon invited him a total of one time, and luis had just become a permanent fixture of the whole thing. you best believe luis is bringing a karaoke machine and performing bad renditions of holiday music complete with an improvised choreography. he tried to bring leon into it one time, and nearly got roundhoused so hard that rebecca had to take them both out like misbehaving dogs. despite that, he always brings around a home-cooked entree to dinner, which rebecca appreciated greatly. luis also has the tendency to spin great tales about what he did during the year, which are definitely all lies.

in part two of the party, luis likes to be a little tipsy for the whole thing. who can blame him, he likes a party. just don't get him talking about his work, he'll talk about it for hours with increasingly complicated language that only rebecca can understand. like her too, he also gets really into the games section. luis is mentally keeping track of the stores, and will argue with anyone that tries to get the one up on him. i mean, he really deserved the point on the last one, so what if he buffs the numbers a little?

luis love to brag about you to all the others, you're his lovely partner and somehow agreed to date him, how could he not? his gifts for you are always a little extravagant, because he wants everyone else to know just what a good boyfriend he is. you're also the reason why he got chewed out over pda during the holidays. luis is just not the kind of man that can keep his hands off you, it's the season of romance.

carlos oliveira:

he's the one person who rebecca allows in the kitchen. carlos is always willing to help, and he'll even do it with a cheesy little apron on. it just makes his ass look nice, and these people deserve a treat on the holidays. god forbid carlos, leon, and jill are sitting together for dinner. they're throwing around the worst jokes known to man, and cackling loudly the whole time, especially if they're a couple beers deep. he's used to a big family, so this kind of gathering is right in his element. he makes sure there's enough food and drink for everyone, even if he's next to chris in eating it all.

another victim of getting too into the games. he likes to have fun and joke around, so he's definitely energetic, but doesn't take it too seriously. carlos is ultimately there to have a good time, and if a pretty woman is telling him to play, he's definitely not going to say no. he's relaxing back in his chair, beer in hand, yelling out suggestions and laughing loudly.

for you, he's just happy to bring you around and show you a good time. you don't have to worry about a damn thing during the holidays, carlos is doing everything so you can just lay back and enjoy the festivities. your drink is empty? carlos is already up and heading to the fridge. you want more dessert? there's another plate already in your hands.

ada wong:

no one really knows the reason she's here. people suspect she found out the location through her own means and just started showing up. or that wesker invited her for insurance reasons. she'll offer to help in the kitchen, and they always turn her down because she's definitely overdressed and they don't want to risk her getting dirty. during the dinner, she just like to witness the inevitable trash fire, or chatting quietly with luis about whatever work drama happening with him.

she's not playing any games. don't ask her. ada will give you a mean glare until you leave her alone. she wants to sit there and watch the wreckage and drink her little drink, she is not playing charades even if there's a gun to her head. get her to gossip though? she will happily engage in telling you dirty secrets about everyone else ( no one can figure out how the hell she knows these things).

ada's rigging the whole thing so you win. she wants to see you happy, and you'll be even happier when you see what she's got you. again, there's no way to tell exactly how she knows what you wanted, but you can be sure you're getting it. and it's in a pretty box, carefully put together and wrapped with a red bow. there's also a mistletoe in her pocket, for when she can finally get you alone.

albert wesker:

no one knows who invited him. no one knows where he is the whole time (he's in the bedroom, pointedly avoiding everyone else). he'll come down to dinner, eat his food, say nothing, and go back upstairs. he's also not going to engage in any sort of ugly sweater tradition, he's wearing all black, and god help anyone who tries to get him to wear anything else. wesker will speak up about his open disdain for chris, but it's quickly shut down by rebecca before he can start a fight.

he doesn't really come around all that often. he prefers to do his work, have his own celebration, and pretend all these people don't exist. after certain events, he becomes a bit of an unspoken topic amongst everyone else-- just a person that used to come around thats' been replaced by their new family.

the only way he'll do anything for the holidays is if you're there. yes, he's going to complain and say he has better things to do, and he would much rather have your own private celebration, but he'll reluctantly do it if you bother him enough. he's giving you his present in private and away from prying eyes, because that relationship is just between you two, not these other people unworthy of even looking at you. whatever you tell him you want, he'll buy. money's no object for him, and anything that will make you happy while he works on other things.

[allimili]

Hi

Just wanna drop it here, bc I’m rlly proud of it, my first time drawing Sage WHY IS HIS DESIGN SO DIFFICULT!!??!?!

I wanna give him smooch so bad, he’s so beautiful I wanna cryyyyy😔

(Feel free to to ignore this<3)

I love it !!!

[love-bugsy]

just really casually thinking about princess bride au jason todd...

Your diligent farm-boy with his rough hands and soft heart, trailing so close behind you that your father starts to call him your shadow. You call him yours. And he is, isn't he? The careful brush of his hands when he lifts you onto your horse, the storm of his eyes lightening when you slip him one of your novels, the wry grin that he saves just for you.

How could you not find a guilty pleasure in ordering him around just to hear the only words he utters in your presence—"As you wish." He calls it duty but you know it by another name.

Jason has no money for marriage, so he leaves your father's employ for the promise of fortune across the sea. Your protests that you are his regardless go unheard and before long, you stand with him at the edge of your property.

"I fear I'll never see you again," you whisper, fingers tracing the set of his jaw. Your farm-boy looks at you through lidded eyes, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I will always return to you," he mutters against your lips like a prayer.

A letter returned in Jason's place—news that pirates had captured his boat. For days you shutter yourself away, refusing to eat or sleep. The Red Hood takes no prisoners. You float through your life like a ghost, only finding reprieve in your dreamless sleep. The days bleed into months and with every glance behind you met with open air, you are emptied.

Perhaps that is why you don't fight when your father accepts the Prince's request for your hand.

~

The gloved hand clutched around your upper arm releases you, throwing you against rough stone. You reach out blindly with bound hands, scraping against rock in an attempt to balance yourself. The blindfold is ripped from your eyes.

After so long in darkness, the daylight blinds you. Blinking against the light, your eyes adjust to your captor. That blood red hood—hem congealing in the blur of your reunion with sunlight, the sanguineous stain of hundreds of victims. Mottled scars mar his exposed chin, sea-green eyes stony when you tear your gaze away from them. Face to face with your farm-boy's killer.

His mouth sets in a hard line as you scrabble to find your footing on rain-slick grass. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. The Red Hood takes no prisoners.

Your eyes dart around at your surroundings – a mountain-top, wind buffeting you from all angles – and when they find his again there's a sick pity in them. The kind you feel for a butterfly in a jar—freedom surrounding it, but nowhere to escape.

You stare at him, eyes remaining unflinchingly open in the face of death—he tells you Jason died nobly and if your hands weren’t pulled tight behind your back, you’d slap him. You settle for kicking your leg out into his shin, eyes dark. Huffing out a dark chuckle, he steps towards you, something like pain flashing across his face when you flinch. You endure the venom in his gravelly voice, bowing under insult after insult. It's only when he accuses you of disloyalty that you snap, standing to face him.

"—I died that day!" Voice cracking over the words, you stand, wrists chafing red raw against the rope that pulls your arms taut. You stumble forward, waterlogged skirt weighing you down and—it's so strange how the pirate seems to freeze, fingers twitching as if to reach out and steady you.

You can't imagine how you must look to him—damsel in a sodden dress, a dried trail of blood down your neck from where your previous captors' blade nicked you, hair whipping wildly in the gale that threatens to send you over the mountain. "And so can you for all I care!" Lunging forward, you shove your shoulder into his chest, sending him careening off the cliffside. You feel righteous for a split second, until a shout echoes over the hillside.

"As—you—wish!”

And when Jason admonishes you for throwing yourself after him – wandering hands checking you for injury – you lean forward, fitting your mouth against his and letting him bring you back to life.

[harmonysanreads]

Don’t know if anyone has sent this yet… but Okhema’s rumors say it’s Phainon posting these.

YOU GET ME YESSS

As a token of my gratitude, allow me to exchange some of these from last time <3

[authorscurse]

It was late at night when you awoken by the sound of footsteps. You reached for the dagger on your nightstand ready to protect yourself until you saw Xavier walk into your shared bedroom.

"Why are you still awake?" Xavier asked, concerned. "I was asleep then I woke up and thought someone broke in," you say, voice still groggy from being recently awoken. "Sorry," Xavier apologised sheepishly, sending you an apologetic smile. "Issokie, just glad you're home," you say.

Xavier smiles and walks up to you and leave a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll go watch up," he says before walking to the bathroom. You wait for him to come back, fighting off the sleep that continues to try and trap you in its grasp. After such a long wait, you hear the shower lights turn off and Xavier walks out with his silk robes that matched your sleepwear.

Your eyes follow his figure, too captivated by the scene in front of you. Xavier smirks noticing your gaze on him and you turn away blushing, suddenly getting interested on the plain wall on your right. You feel the bed dip infront of you as Xavier rests his head on your propped up leg, your night dress drifting down revealing your mid thigh.

"Missed you," he whispered loud enough for you to hear as he kissed your thigh with closed eyes, savouring the moment. "Missed you so much to, Xav," you whisper, playing with his hair. He nuzzles his cheek onto your tie like a cat before looking up at you with such yearning eyes.

"How was your day, Xavy?" You asked. "Good," Xavier sighs, climbing up onto you. "But better now," he says before capturing your lips into a kiss. It was soft and gentle until it wasn't. Within seconds it becomes heated and hungry.

"What has gotten into you?" You gasp, pushing him away. Xavier stays quiet and cups your cheek and trave your swollen lips with his thumb. "I just missed you," he said as he watch your lips open and close as you breathe.

Xavier grasps your thigh and open it to make room for him between your thighs and pull you close to him. His head finds solace between your shoulder and neck. "Spent so much time at N109 Zone, don't even have enough time for me anymore," Xavier mumbles.

So that's why he was acting like this, he was jealous. You chuckle and thread your fingers through his hair and your other arm wraps around his back. "I'm sorry, Baby. But I'm here now, aren't I?" You ask which he nods. He removes his head from his hiding space and looks into your eyes.

A pout rests on his face that that you coo in adoration. "Such a jealous, star," you coo, cupping his cheeks with your hands and gently shaking his head, his pout deepening even more. "I'm so sorry for upsetting you, baby. How could I ever make it up to you?" You asked as you leave gently kisses onto his face. "I could think of something," Xavier whispers. "Hmm?" You ask and catch a glimpse of the mischief in his eyes.

Before you know it you're pinned onto the bed, legs pried open with Xavier's body in between, your hands pressed against the bed with both of his hands. "Xavier— we have work tomorrow—" you say struggling to get away from his grip.

"Call in sick then," Xavier answers as he dips down and kiss your collarbone and neck. A whimper leaves your lips before you could stop it. "Did you think of me when you were there?" Xavier asks as he sucks and bites your skin. "Always," you gasp, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy.

"Yeah? Gotta make it up to me now, would you?" Xavier asks starting to go lower down to your stomach. "Y-yes," you moan. "Good girl," Xavier smirks.

This so gonna be a looooooongggggg night.

[gingernut1314]

Sanji is the type to give out flowers to strangers on the street who seem to be on their own for Valentine's Day. Just a single rose with a beautifully done up bow around its stem. A simple gesture with some kind words to try to bring your spirits up. He’ll instruct you to eat that sweet treat you’ve been thinking of, have that glass of wine (or whatever your delicate palate prefers), and remember that someone loves you. And if it seems like no one does, know that he loves you just seconds after meeting you.

[mygirlimagination]

Get this clip away from me omg