#she's a bit like sad sack

[raggydollsscreenshots]

Posting screenshots from The Raggy Dolls every day until ITV puts it on ITVX: Day 76:

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

I'm an iceberg and this ship crashed into me like the Titanic

[storiesforallfandoms]

new toy ~ felix catton;saltburn

word count: 5901

request?: no

description: when he brings a girl home for the summer, she finds herself struggling to fit into his lifestyle

pairing: felix catton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of parent deaths, farleigh being a catty rich bitch (affectionate), feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, little bit of angst, things get steamy but no actual smut in this one

masterlist (one, two, three)

Venetia rushed to the window of her bedroom as she heard the car carrying her brother pulling up the drive. The family had been made aware that Felix was bringing a friend home for the summer. Not that anyone had to tell them. Felix often had a new sad sack in tow whenever he came home from school, who would never be seen again once they returned to school at the end of the summer. Venetia had tried to get some information on this new friend from Farleigh, but her cousin said he hadn't seen anyone new hanging out with Felix during the school year. She was itching to get a peak at Felix's newest toy.

She gasped and turned to Farleigh, who was looking at her in curiosity. "It's a girl!"

(Y/N) stepped out of the car as Felix excitedly talked away. She looked at the giant house with wide eyes. She knew Felix had money; his parents were paying his way through college after all, meanwhile (Y/N) was a scholarship kid. But she never could've imagined he was this level of rich. His house was a goddamn castle!

She was wondering if it was too late to back out of Felix's offer to stay over.

An older man dressed in a black suit opened the front door as (Y/N) and Felix approached. (Y/N) stopped suddenly as the man's glare landed on her.

"Duncan!" Felix exclaimed. "How are you, you serious old brute?"

"Good to see you, master Felix. This is your new...friend?"

The way he said it made (Y/N) wince.

Felix turned to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, (Y/N). This is my family butler, Duncan. He looks terrifying, but his bark is worse than his bite."

(Y/N) tried to smile at Duncan, but he merely continued to stare her down. She shrunk into Felix's embrace, which, luckily, the taller boy noticed her discomfort and brought her into the house. With his arm still around her, Felix brought (Y/N) around the giant house. There was so much to see, so much to know. There was simply no way she'd remember it all. She expected to get lost just trying to get to the bathroom.

Luckily, that wouldn't be a problem at least, as Felix led her into his room. "Your room is just through here. We'll be sharing a bathroom. Hope you don't mind."

She was glad he wasn't facing her so he missed the look on her face at his statement.

Felix threw the door to her room open with a flourish before turning to her. "And this is where you'll be staying. Don't worry about unpacking, the butlers will do that for you. It has a nice view of the garden and such, and I'm just next door past the bathroom, as you've already seen."

He flopped down onto her bed and stretched out so he was taking up the entire bed. (Y/N) pushed his leg over a bit so she could sit next to him. "It's a lot to take in."

"I know," Felix said. He rolled onto his side to look up at her. "It'll feel like a lot, but I promise my family will love you. And if it gets overwhelming, I'll be here."

He put his hand on her leg. She looked down at it, the heat from where his hand was touching rising from that spot all the way up to her face. Her entire body felt like it had been ignited by a simple gesture to try and bring her comfort. She wondered if Felix knew what he did to her.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as Felix stood, removing his hand from her leg.

"I'll let you unwind or whatever," he said. "Dinner isn't until 5, so you have plenty of time to yourself until then. You brought a dress, right?" She nodded. "Good. Mum and dad insist on fancy dinner wear. It's a little embarrassing. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

And just like that, he was gone. (Y/N) sighed and fell back onto the bed.

This definitely was not how she expected to spend her summer. She had started her time at Oxford as an outcast, a scholarship loser among a sea of rich kids. She tired not to let it get to her. Getting into Oxford at all was a big deal, (Y/N) knew to be proud of that. But that didn't make the whispers and dirty looks directed towards her any easier to take.

She didn't seek out friendship with anyone, let alone with Felix. Of course, she had noticed Felix. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful and had charm for days. Everyone loved him. But (Y/N) knew better than to try and approach him. They were from two completely different worlds, and (Y/N) knew she didn't belong in his world.

To her surprise, it was Felix who initiated first contact.

They were in an English class together. Felix had sat next to her one day and asked, "Did you finish the reading for today?" (Y/N) was so shocked that he had spoken to her that she could only nod in response. "Can you summarize it for me? I tried to read it but it was so fucking boring."

Apparently, that one act of kindness was enough to consider (Y/N) a friend. Felix invited her to sit with him at the bar, to come study in his room, to go to the "invite only" parties on campus. His other rich friends didn't seem to enjoy her company, but he did and that's all that mattered.

When (Y/N) told Felix she had nowhere to go for the summer, he invited her to come stay with him and his family in Saltburn. He refused to take no for an answer. So now here she was, in a bedroom that only had a bathroom to separate her and the boy she had started developing feelings for but knew she couldn't have, in a house the size of a castle owned by a family who mad more money than she'd ever see in her life.

She let out another sigh for good measure before sitting up. She still had plenty of time before dinner, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable to meet Felix's family for the first time. She got up and went to the bathroom, locking the door that led to Felix's room just in case. There was no shower, so she had to opt for a bath. She tried to be quick, but once she had laid in the oversized tub and allowed the hot water to engulf her, she never wanted to get out. Maybe she could spend the entire summer in the tub instead of dealing with Felix's family.

When the water began to go cold, she reluctantly got out and returned to her room. She had packed the limited amount of makeup she owned just in case there were any formal gatherings she needed to dress up for. Now she was definitely glad she had if dinner was meant to be a formal thing. She did her makeup carefully to make sure it was perfect, then dug through her bag for the dress she had packed. It wasn't anything super fancy, just a royal blue, off the shoulder dress with a pleated skirt that came down just above the knee. It was the nicest dress she owned, so eh hoped it would suffice.

There was still some time before dinner, but (Y/N) figured it was time to meet the family.

She stepped out of her room and realized she had no idea where to go to find the dining room.

"Need help?"

(Y/N) jumped and turned to see Duncan stood, blank faced yet again, looking at her,

"Yes please," she responded, her voice soft.

"Follow me," Duncan told her. He didn't wait to see if she was following, she she quickly troted along behind him to keep up.

The Catton family was sat around the dinner table already when Duncan led (Y/N) into the room. All eyes turned to her when she walked in. She suddenly felt very self conscious and wished she was back in the hot, welcoming bath tub.

Until she caught Felix looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Oh, Felix, darling," an older woman sat at the head of the table - Felix's mom - said. "She is absolutely beautiful."

His mom stood from her seat and quickly approached (Y/N). She gently cupped (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) tensed, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Catton didn't seem to notice, or if she did she didn't let on.

"Honey, you didn't tell us how beautiful she was," Mrs. Catton said to her son.

"You never believe me," Felix retorted.

Mrs. Catton turned back to (Y/N). "Welcome, darling. We're very happy to have you here. You can call me Lady Elspeth." She took (Y/N)'s hands and squeezed them, then gestured towards the table. "We left a seat free next to Felix for you. Come, sit. Dinner will be served soon."

(Y/N) quickly moved to the table, oping to no longer be the center of attention. Felix was still smiling at her as she sat down next to him.

"You do look beautiful," he said.

Her face started heating up. "Thank you."

Across from them, a throat cleared. Felix glanced up at his cousin. (Y/N) didn't miss the subtle change in Felix's expression. "(Y/N), this is my cousin, Farleigh, and my sister, Venetia."

"Oh, I know Farleigh," she said, looking over at the other young man. He gave her an obviously forced smile. "I-I mean, I know of Farleigh. I've seen you around on campus."

"Weird that I haven't seen you. It's not like Felix to hide his friends away," Farleigh said.

"I wasn't hiding her away." Felix's face was tense. (Y/N) wondered what the story between him and Farleigh was. They seemed to get along well on campus, or at least Farleigh was in Felix's friend group.

Dinner was served, thus breaking up the tense moment. A plate was placed in front of everyone and they all began to eat. (Y/N) tried not to draw too much attention to herself, but she knew her presence alone was drawing attention. Both Farleigh and Venetia weren't very subtle with the way they were staring at her.

"So, (Y/N)," Elspeth said after a few moments of silence, "what is it you're studying at Oxford?"

"English," (Y/N) responded. "I'd like to be a writer when I graduate, but I know that's not an entirely realistic dream so I'm aiming to be an English teacher as a backup."

"Oh, writing! That's wonderful, darling!" Elspeth said. (Y/N) was somewhat shocked that Elspeth seemed genuine with her interest. "Have you written anything yet?"

"A few short stories." She shrugged. "Nothing major."

"'Nothing major'?" Felix questioned. "She's won contests with her short stories! Remember, you told me one of your stories was published in an anthology of short stories when you were still in high school?"

Elspeth and Felix's dad, Sir James, were impressed, while (Y/N) was surprised that Felix had remembered her telling him that. He was smiling down at her in pride and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Is that how you got your scholarship?" Farleigh asked. The look on his face told (Y/N) that his question wasn't as genuine as Elspeth's had been.

"Farleigh," Felix sneered.

"What? I was just asking. It's not like it's a secret that she's a scholarship kid. There's no shame in needing some financial help."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Boys," James said, his voice stern in warning.

Dinner fell quiet after that. (Y/N) pushed her food around her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was back to wishing she could melt away into the floor and never be seen again. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go back to the school and stay in the dorms alone for the summer.

Once she had finished eating, she politely excused herself and went back to her room. She had paid enough attention when Duncan showed her to the dining room that she made it back with no issue. The minute the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. A lump had started to form in her throat, but she was refusing to let herself cry. Even now while she was alone, she didn't want to give in to these feelings. She had to be strong, at least until she could get her things together and figure out a way back to the school.

As Felix had told her, the butlers had unpacked her bag while she was at dinner. It took her a moment to find her pajamas and makeup remover. She pulled on an oversized shirt she had packed to wear on the warm nights and was leaned over the dresser to start taking off her makeup, the shirt riding up just enough, when the door connecting her and Felix suddenly opened. Felix walked in, still in his suit from dinner, except he had removed his tie and the top few buttons had been undone. (Y/N) quickly stood up straight, pulling her shirt down to cover her ass.

"Don't you knock?" she asked.

"No, why would I?" he said.

"What if I was changing?"

"You weren't."

She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her makeup off, this time more cautious about how much of her was being exposed with Felix in the room.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about how Farleigh acted during dinner," Felix said.

(Y/N) paused for a moment. She glanced at Felix through the mirror. He was looking up at her with an expression that told her his apology was genuine.

"It's alright," she said.

"No, it wasn't alright. He shouldn't be saying those things about you. It's not like he's much different. My parents have financially supported him for years and let him stay here for free. At least you earned your scholarship, he only got his way in life because of his family."

"So did you, though." There was a beat, and (Y/N) quickly turned to face Felix. "Wait, I didn't mean - "

"No, you're right," he cut her off. "My parents have financially helped me, too. You're the only one among us who has really earned your spot at Oxford. It's not fair of Farleigh to try and make you feel small because you come from a different background."

(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn't just Farleigh, it was everyone at Oxford. Even Felix's own friend group had shunned (Y/N) when he introduced her to them. It felt like Felix was the only one who truly wanted to befriend (Y/N).

"You don't have to apologize for him," she said instead. "But I appreciate that you'd want to."

"You're my friend. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by my obnoxious cousin, I brought you here because I wanted you to spend the summer with us."

Friend.

Even though she knew that's all they were, it still stung to hear him say it. She wanted so much more than that, but it was wishful thinking to believe that Felix cause ever want more than that.

"I...I think I'm gonna just...get in bed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's still only early."

"I know. All the travel just has me feeling pretty worn out."

"Okay."

He stood and (Y/N) expected him to go back to his room. When he started to unbutton his shirt more, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"What are you doing?!"

"I was going to stay over here tonight. If you were okay with that, that is."

"You're supposed to ask these things before you just start undressing."

Felix chuckled as (Y/N) turned her back to him. "You really don't want to watch as I undress?"

Of course I want to watch! "I'm just...trying to be courteous."

He laughed again. (Y/N) could hear the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. She wondered why he hadn't at least gone back to his room to get a pair of pajamas. At least pajama pants. She was starting to get the feeling that at home, Felix didn't have to ask many questions, and that also extended towards his guests.

"Okay, I am covered."

When she turned back, he was under the covers of her bed, his hands behind his head so she could see that he was at least shirtless under there.

"The bed is big enough for us to share," he said, reading the shocked look on her face. "That is, again, if you don't mind."

"N-No. I-I guess that's fine."

(Y/N) crawled into bed next to Felix. She tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could but, despite what Felix said, the bed certainly was not that big. She could still feel the heat from his body as she turned onto her side, her back to him. She could feel his nearness. And she could feel the fact that he was only wearing his boxers.

"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'm not going to slip away during the night or something."

He bed shook a little as he laughed. "I know. I just wanted to stay over here. At the very least, I want to make sure you don't have any issues sleeping. I always find I struggle when I'm trying to sleep in a new place."

(Y/N) rolled onto her other side so that she could face Felix. The full moon was shining through the window, illuminating his face. He turned his head to look down at her.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Felix," she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

He smiled. "Get some sleep, (Y/N). I don't intend on having a boring day tomorrow if the weather is nice."

~~~~~~

When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she completely forgot where she was. The bed was far too soft to be the one in her dorm at Oxford, and it was certainly too hot to be just a normal day during the schooling semester.

Not to mention the fact that there was a body laying under her.

(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open as she realized her head was resting on Felix's chest, and his arm around wrapped around her. At some point in the night, they must've shifted so that they were cuddling. (Y/N) wasn't sure if she should pull away or stay where she was. What would Felix's reaction be when he woke up and found them both in such a compromising position?

A knock came at her door. "Miss. (Y/N)?"

It was Duncan's voice. Now she was definitely panicking.

"Just checking if you're awake," he added.

"Uh...yeah! I am Duncan!" she called back.

"Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Do wake up master Felix and let him know as well. His mother will want him to punctual since she didn't get as much time with him last night."

Her face burned. She wondered if Duncan knew Felix was in here with her, or if he meant for her to go over to Felix's room to wake him.

The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway told her that Duncan had walked away. She let out a breath, relaxing into Felix's side yet again. She felt him move beneath her and she quickly pulled out of his arms before he started to wake up.

She was shocked at how beautiful he looked in the morning. The same perfect beauty he had when he fell asleep. Not a single hair out of place, no drool on his lips, no sleepy gunk in his eyes. It was really unfair just how perfect he really was.

His eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled when he saw (Y/N) looking down at him. "Good morning."

"Morning," she said. "Uh, Duncan was just here. He said breakfast is in ten minutes."

Felix groaned. "I don't want to get up yet. Why does mum have to have breakfast so early?"

(Y/N) looked at the clock hung on the wall. "It's almost 10am."

"Far too early to wake up in the summer."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Felix stretched his arms out and sat up as well. His face was suddenly very close to hers, almost too close.

"I suppose I should get ready for breakfast then," he said.

"Is there any dress code for breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Not for breakfast, but the dress code for today's events is a bathing suit. Once we finish eating, I'm taking you down to the lake."

~~~~~~

A few hours later, (Y/N) was following Felix towards the lake next to his house. It was a scorching hot day outside. One that was definitely better spent in the cooling water instead of cooped up inside.

Farleigh and Venetia were already by the lake. Farleigh was laid back on a towel, reading some book, while Venetia was sat by the lake with her feet in the water. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the two approach and smiled.

"Well, here they are!" she announced. "Finally you're here."

"Pull up a towel," Farleigh said, not looking up from his book.

(Y/N) went to sit on the grass, but Venetia called, "Not you! You're joining me down here. I've been surrounded by this testosterone for far too long."

She wasn't about to argue. She was already coated in sweat just from walking down from the house. (Y/N) sat beside Venetia and placed her feet in the water. The sudden cold was like a shock to her system, but definitely a welcome one.

"So, (Y/N)," Venetia said, "tell me, how did you and my brother meet?"

"We were in class together," (Y/N) responded. "I helped him with an assigned reading he had trouble with."

"Saved my ass from failing that surprise test the professor gave us," Felix added.

"It wasn't a surprise, he told us about it the class before," (Y/N) said.

"I wasn't there that class, so it was a surprise to me."

"Was that the day you were too hungover after a dorm party on a Sunday night?" Farleigh asked.

"A Sunday?!" (Y/N) laughed.

"It was a surprise party for one of my friends in the dorm," Felix responded. "He had gone home for the weekend so we had to have the party that Sunday. I didn't plan to get fucked up that night."

"You never do," Farleigh commented.

"What about your family, (Y/N)?" Venetia interrupted. "Are they okay with you spending your summer with a load of strangers?"

Felix opened his mouth to deter his sister from asking, but (Y/N) cut him off by saying, "My parents are dead."

A silence fell over them. Venetia looked a mixture of horrified and sad. Farleigh lowered his book to look over at (Y/N). Felix was trying not to look at any of them while (Y/N) was fixing her attention on the water in front of her. She was running her feet back and forth, disrupting the otherwise calm water.

"They died when I was ten," she continued. "Car accident, drunk driver. I've lived with my grandparents since then, but my grandpa died a year ago and my gran is starting to develop dementia. When I got accepted into Oxford, I made a deal with the Dean that I could stay on campus during the summers until I could afford my own place."

Venetia looked like she was about to cry. (Y/N) suddenly wished she had lied and made up some story about her parents.

"Way to ruin the moon, V," Farleigh commented.

"I didn't know!" Venetia retorted.

"No, it's fine," (Y/N) cut off their bickering. "It's tough, but I've had years to come to terms with all the death, and gran is in a nursing home now so she's being taken care of. I don't want anyone to tip toe around me like I'm made of glass."

As if to make her point, (Y/N) pushed off the edge of the lake and into the water. She shrieked as the cold engulfed her. Venetia followed suit, and soon enough both of them had convinced Farleigh and Felix to get into the water as well. The conversation was long forgotten as they swam around, splashing one another as if they were children.

~~~~~~

That night, (Y/N) was sat in the garden underneath her bedroom window. With the sun gone down, the air had cooled off, but only slightly. The room was still too stuffy for her, and opening the window just made it worse, so she opted to sit out in the cool air before she tried to sleep again.

Footsteps approached and she expected it to be Felix. When she turned, she was surprised to see Venetia instead, dressed in a sheer nightgown and carrying a lit cigarette between her fingers.

"Mind if I sit?" Venetia asked.

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, considering it's your house."

Venetia chuckled and sat next to her.

(Y/N)'s first impression of Venetia had been wrong, and she was kind of glad it had been. She thought that, like Farleigh, Venetia was also going to be a little catty and condescending towards her. But after their day by the lake, she felt a sort of kinship with Venetia. They were the only two young girls at Saltburn, they had to look out for one another at the very least.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay so far?" Venetia asked.

"It's lovely here," (Y/N) said. "Much better than spending the summer at the Oxford campus along. At least there's a lot of the house to explore, and at least two people who seem to want me here."

"Three, if you count mum. She's ecstatic to have you. If you're not careful, she might just try and adopt you."

"I wouldn't complain."

Venetia took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "And, um...has Felix been treating you well?"

(Y/N) looked over at her with confusion. "I'd...say more than well. Why?"

"I just..." Venetia leaned over, resting her arms against her legs. "I'm not saying this to try and scare you or anything. I truly like you, (Y/N), and I just want to warn you because I know how my brother is. He often takes someone who is a little more...damaged than him under his wing and brings them back here for a few months. But once the summer ends, or once he's lost interest, he casts them aside for whatever new shiny toy catches his attention."

Venetia's words hit (Y/N) like a ton of bricks. She had been telling herself for months since meeting Felix that their friendship was too good to be true, that he was going to realize he was making a mistake and move on. But when he didn't, when he asked her back to his house for the summer, she thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe he actually did care for her and wanted to be friends with her. She had a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this summer would bring them closer together, that they could become more than just friends.

If anyone would know how Felix was, it would be Venetia. She was his sister. She had seen a lifetime of the way Felix acted with friends. If she was warning her of the possibility that Felix might toss her aside once the summer ended, then she felt inclined to believe Venetia.

"Again, I'm not telling you this as a way to make you upset," Venetia added. "Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to stay with us for the summer. I just really do not want you to get hurt if that's what happens with Felix."

Tears were forming in (Y/N)'s eyes again. She was having a harder time at fighting them than the night before after all Farleigh had said to her. She quickly stood and murmured a "goodnight" to Venetia before rushing back inside the house. She got to her bedroom just in time for the tears to start falling.

Stupid! You're so stupid for thinking you belonged here in his world. You're nothing more than a charity case for him!

(Y/N) sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands. She cried and cried until the tears dried up and she was essentially dry sobbing. Her eyes felt heavy and her body was aching from being on the floor for so long. She just wanted to go to back to the school and pretend this entire trip never happened.

When she finally coaxed herself to stand, (Y/N) went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks were flush, and there were tear stains on her cheeks from crying. She grabbed a face cloth and wet it down with warm water. Before she could start wiping her face, the door leading to Felix's room opened. She froze, the wet cloth in her hands.

"Hey," Felix said. She thought for a moment that he hadn't noticed her state, until suddenly he was beside her. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, wincing again at the sound of her horse voice.

"You don't look or sound fine."

She began to wipe her face, trying to ignore Felix's presence. As she rinsed the face cloth again, she said, "I think I'm going to call the Dean tomorrow to ask if my room is still available at the school, then look into getting the next train back to Oxford as soon as possible."

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to stay."

(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't belong here, Felix. This is your world, not mine. I'm just the girl with dead parents and a scholarship, struggling to figure out how or if I'll ever be financially stable enough to live on my own once the school kicks me out."

"What did Farleigh say to you?"

"It wasn't Farleigh!" she snapped, finally turning to face him. "It was Venetia! She told me that you don't let people stick around for long. That you take in the charity cases and toss them aside when you're bored. And I knew that's what was happening with me, I knew there was no way you could possibly want to be friends with me, but I was also stupid enough to let myself believe that maybe it was all real. That maybe you actually cared and you actually wanted me here!"

She was crying again. She must've looked and sounded insane. She wished she had never accepted Felix's offer to come here. She could only imagine what he would say about her when she left the next day.

"I'm not staying here and waiting to be hurt, Felix," she said. "You may think it's fun to toy with people's emotions, but I don't. Not when I trusted you in telling you about my parents, about my stories, about my sad little poor life."

She had more to say, although she wasn't sure if any of it would've made sense, but Felix cut her off before she could. He took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It surprised her at first and she pulled away almost immediately. He looked down at her, worried, like he was scared he had just crossed a line. When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she quickly leaned back in to kiss him again.

Her hands held on to his shirt while one of his still cupped her face and the other started to move down her body. With one quick movement, he had lifted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands moved to tangle into his hair. His tongue moved across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance to her mouth. She realized he was commando under his pajama pants when she felt him pressed against her, the only layer between being her panties as she was once again in the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.

Felix broke away first. She tried to follow him, but he held her back, a playful grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go," he said. "I want you here. Not just for this summer, but every summer from now on. I want you in my dorm room back at school, and eventually in my own place when we finish with school. I want you, (Y/N). You're not some toy to me."

"How long have you felt like this?" she asked.

"Since before I spoke to you in class that first day."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I kept chickening out. Every girl I've been with has only wanted me for my money, or my looks, or both. No one has ever really cared for me as a person. When you did, it almost intimidated me. I needed to know for sure you'd be here for the long run, so I brought you home to see how you'd react to everything."

"Am I passing the test?"

He chuckled and kissed her again. "With flying colors."

She couldn't get enough of him; of his lips, his smile, his body against hers, his hands on her. She wanted all of him all the time. She suddenly never wanted to leave either of their rooms for the rest of the summer.

"You can still go back to school if you feel uncomfortable here. I wouldn't blame you there," he said. "But if you're going back, I'm coming with you."

She shook her head. "I couldn't take you away from your family."

"Then stay. I want you to be here, too. I want to be with you."

She grinned cheekily back at him. "If you're going to beg, you should be on your knees at least."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "If that's what you want."

She wanted all of him all the time, but she decided not to say that just yet. She was still a little cautious. She had to make sure Felix meant what he was saying, even if she felt deep down that he was. He needed to prove himself to her before she opened up that much to him.

But for now, she would definitely take the sight of him on his knees, his face between her legs as his hands pushed the shirt up around her hips.

[thatgenericwriter]

Womp || Gregory House

Gregory House x fem!reader

your sub for the day is hot but that's not gonna stop you from fucking with him

0.7k words

contains swearing

p.s. takes place during the Three Stories ep and based on a request by anonymous

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈•༶

"Wrong snake?"

"We tried every other antivenin we had."

"We’re too late?"

"Yep. He’s dying. His wife’s here, finally found a babysitter. Who wants to let him know? Actually, I’m kidding."

"He’s not dying?"

"Oh, yeah, he’s dying, but there’s no wife and kid. Which is great. Makes the “breaking the news” thing way easier. Oh, yeah, one mor-"

"Womp fucking womp."

You watch as the whole group turns towards your seat. The shocked looks on their faces are priceless. You were tired of listening to your idiot classmates go back and forth with your sub and needed to intervene before you died of boredom.

"Well, class it looks like someone here has their own enlightening opinions about these cases." House leans back against your teacher's desk and looks at you expectantly. "Care to share with the group?"

Sitting up straight in your desk you give him a small smirk before stating said opinions. "Its obvious that the drug addicted, sad sack of shit is you. And that those leg pains were the cause of what I'm guessing to be an aneurysm that clotted, leading to an infarction."

You watch as House's cocky demeanor slowly evaporates from him leaving him and the whole class speechless.

"Am I right, or am I right?"

Your shit eating grin causes House to limp over to your desk. He leans over it moving closer to your face. You can't help but glance at his lips hoping he doesn't notice, but of course he does. He returns you that same shit eating grin as he leans in even closer.

Your noses are practically touching before he leans back and turns to the class. "Class! Let's see if little miss know it all can tell us what is wrong with our other two patients!" He glances behind you briefly before turning his attention back to you expectantly.

"I'm guessing by your pathetic attempt to intimidate me I was right about the patient being you." You hear snickering behind you and you turn slightly to see three doctors in lab coats sitting in the back row of the lecture hall, you're guessing their House's fellows. You turn back to House, now with an even bigger crowd filled with actual doctors it's time to make your knowledge known.

"It's obvious by this point that it was not a snake that bit the first patient. I'm guessing that if he was willing to go through life threating treatments that he must be protecting something or someone. And since you made it clear that he was a sad, lonely man it must be man's best friend."

You look around the room at your classmates' confused faces and let out a sigh of disappointment. "His dog guys. His dog bit him."

A round of "oh" goes around the room as you look to House for confirmation. He slightly nods his head in agreement and for you to continue.

"Finally the volleyball player. The simplest one honestly. Cancer. She has an osteosarcoma, a cancerous tumor in her femur."

You sit back and look at House waiting for him to tell you your right. Instead, he shakes his head at you and limps back to your teacher's desk. "You're wrong!"

"No, I'm not."

He sits down on your teacher's chair behind the desk and you can see him rubbing his thigh aggressively. "Yes, you are." You're about to argue back when you hear another voice chime in behind you.

"She's right House."

"Yeah, you're just jealous that she's smarter than you."

"It's about time someone put you in your place."

House's fellows surround your desk and start asking you questions about how you knew the answer to each case. You happily chatted along with them, answering and asking your own questions until House's voice interrupted you.

"Are you busy Monday?"

Everyone turns to look at him confused.

"No?"

He gives you another cocky smile and leans his arms against the desk.

"Great I'll see you in my office at 8 am sharp for your first day."

And with that, he stands up and leaves the room throwing a quick 'class dismissed' over his shoulder.

You stare at his back, jaw slack, before turning to his fellows who all share the same dumbstruck look.

I guess you'll be seeing a lot more of your hot sub from now on.

[larluce]

Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep)

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Chapter 3: Valiant (Part 1)

In Gaius's chambers. Merlin, who has barely slept, drags himself out of bed with dark circles under his eyes, hastily putting on his clothes. His day is just beginning, but he's already exhausted.

Gaius: (Almost at the same pace as Merlin, dressing more slowly and then putting more wood on the fire) Did you get any sleep last night?

Merlin: (Yawning) No. (points to the baby in the crib). Someone thought it was a good idea to have colic and roll a bottle across the table.

Baby: (sleeping peacefully) 😴

Merlin walks over to the table to see his list of things to do for the day. His to-do list is quite long, and the castle bells haven't even rung to welcome the day yet.

Gaius: (Looking up from his book) You can barely stand, my boy.

Merlin: (Yawning, as he prepares the bottle of milk) Uh-huh. But the prince can't seem to dress himself, and my roommate is sick. Do you think you could give her-

Gaius: (Sighs and takes the bottle) I'll do my best to look after her today; colic is common at this age. Go before Arthur gets impatient.

Time skip. At the Training Grounds. Arthur is already waiting with his arms crossed when Merlin arrives with his training gear, having already dressed him.

Arthur: (mockingly) Have you always been this slow?

Merlin: (mimicking his tone) Have you always been this helpless?

Arthur: (seriously) You can't talk to me like that.

Merlin: I'm sorry. (exaggeratedly polite tone) Have you always been helpless, my lord? (gives a small bow)

Arthur: (A smile almost forms on his face at the joke, but it soon returns to his angry expression and he throws a training pad at Merlin's head) Let's begin.

And Arthur uses him as a training dummy all morning.

Despite being overworked, Merlin gets some help from other servants who know how difficult Arthur is to deal with.

Time skip. In the laundry room.

George: (while helping Merlin wash Arthur's clothes) He wants you to quit.

Merlin: (confused) Uh?

George: The prince. He's hoping you'll either get fed up and quit, or make a mistake bad enough to get you sacked. He does the same with all his personal manservants. Although you're the first he's ever been so hard on.

Merlin: (laughs) I don't think he's forgiven me for humiliating him in front of his men. (mockingly) Or should I say his daddy's men?

George: (curious) So why aren't you doing it?

Merlin: What?

George: Quit.

Merlin: (thinking) I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. And I need to buy things for my baby. (shrugging) I just came to visit Gaius. I never planned to stay. But it doesn't hurt to have some money.

Merlin doesn't mention the baby to any of the servants. He never does. But something about the sympathetic look George gives him in response makes him suspect they might already know. And he confirms it when he asks Gwen for help with Arthur's armor.

Time skip. At Gwen's house.

Merlin: (dressed in Arthur's armor)

Gwen: (after showing Merlin how to put on the armor) I guess you know what to do with the helmet?

Merlin: (tired, but smiles at him) Yeah, yeah, that was the only bit I'd figured out.

Gwen: (laughs)

Merlin: (puts on the helmet) How come you're so much better at this than me?

Gwen: I'm the blacksmith's daughter. I know pretty much everything there is to know about armour, which is actually kind of sad.

Merlin: (impressed) No, it's brilliant! I would love for my girl— (cuts himself off, eyes widening in panic) I mean, if I had a girl, I would love for her to be interested in my interests. Yeah… (takes off his helmet and avoids Gwen's gaze) I'd better get changed now.

Gwen: (helps Merlin out of the armor and says tentatively) And how is Gaius's little patient?

Merlin: (feigning ignorance) Uh?

Gwen: The one I saw yesterday when we met. The baby.

Merlin: Oh, she is. Uhmm… (decides to repeat the lie Gaius told him to say) She's actually the daughter of a patient. Gaius and I are temporarily looking after her while her mother recovers.

Gwen: (not sounding very convinced) I see… (finishes removing Merlin's armor)

Merlin: (realizes) Wait, have you told anyone about her?

Gwen: …

Merlin: Gwen! 😠

Gwen: In my defense, I didn't know you were going to become the prince's manservant.

Merlin: (pacing) That's why everyone's been looking at me strangely. I'm sure you put them in the idea that she's my daughter! 😡

Gwen: (tries to calm him down) Merlin-

Merlin: (screams) She isn't! I wish she was, but she isn't. And even if she was, what do you all care? Huh? Why can't you just mind your own damn business?! 😤

Gwen: …

Gwen: Just out of curiosity, how much sleep did you get today?

Merlin: (sighs) 2 hours. Maybe. (feeling bad) Sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you.

Gwen: It's okay. (places the disassembled armor in Merlin's arms) We servants may be gossips, but we never give each other away. We know how to keep a secret when it matters, and we protect each other. I just want you to know that.

Merlin: (smiles, grateful) I'll keep that in mind. (leaves)

Time skip. At the training grounds.

Merlin: (struggles to get the vambrace on Arthur's lower arm)

Arthur: (grumpily) You know the tournament starts today?

Merlin: Yes, sire. (Fixes the buckle on the gorget and tries to make conversation) Are you nervous?

Arthur: I don't get nervous.

Merlin: Really? I thought everyone got nervous-

Arthur: (shouting) Will you shut up?!

Merlin: (gets angry, but says nothing, grabs Arthur's cloak, ties it up, and silently hands him his helmet)

Arthur: Aren't you forgetting something?

Merlin: …

Arthur: Merlin! 😡

Merlin: (innocently) You told me to shut up, I'm just obeying your order, sire.

Arthur: My sword! 😤

Merlin: Right away. (goes to the swords and grabs one, but then puts it back and grabs another, and so on)

Arthur: (impatiently) What are you doing?!

Merlin: Choosing your sword, my lord.

Arthur: Just give me that one.

Merlin: (proceeds to draw his sword veeery slowly)

Arthur: (snatches the sword from Merlin and points it at him, threateningly) Don't think I don't know what you're doing.

Merlin: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Arthur: (enraged) I swear-

Merlin: You'd better hurry or you'll be late for your tournament, my lord.

Arthur: (fuming, but holds it together and walks quickly away)

Merlin: (smirks)

Time skip. At the tournament.

Both Arthur and Valiant win their respective matches. Not that Merlin could know, he was too busy catching up on sleep. He managed to get at least an hour of sleep before His Royal Highness nudged Merlin awake with his foot to make Merlin remove his armor.

Valiant: (Exits the arena, stops near Arthur, and bows) May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?

Arthur: (Frowns suspiciously, but nods) Likewise.

Valiant: I hope to see you at the reception this evening. (Leaves with his servant)

Merlin: (Still half asleep, half awake) Creep. It sounded like he was asking you out.

Arthur: (Shocked) Merlin!

Merlin: (Blinks) Oh, sorry. Did I say that out loud?

Arthur: (Sighs) By tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail.

Merlin: (Incredulous) Are you kidding? There's no way I can-

Arthur: First thing in the morning. (Leaves)

Merlin is left alone, noting how all the extra tasks within his duties for the next day seem to grow to exaggerated levels.

Time skip, in Gaius's Tower.

Merlin enters his room, his arms and legs feeling cramped from everything he's done since Arthur let him leave. Too tired, he casts a simple magic-blocking spell. His eyes glow gold, and as that happens, the baby teddy bear stops floating through the air and lands on the floor with some herbs and flowers.

Gaius: (enters) Good to see you all in one piece (with a caring tone) Tiring day?

Merlin: (with a tic in his eye) Tiring would be an understatement 🙃.

Gaius: I'd say it's always like this, but it's all because of the upcoming celebration.

Merlin: (bitterly) So the prince is such an idiot about the upcoming celebrations? (conjures) Daeft thaet (his eyes flash and the mess the baby's magic caused sorts itself out)

Gaius: (smacks him)

Merlin: Ow!

Gaius: What did I tell you about using magic like that? 😠

Merlin: If I could feel my arms, I would! 😠 I only have enough strength for this. (picks up his baby) How's the sweetest girl in the world? 😊 I hope you were good to Uncle Gaius!

Baby: 🥺 Boooo

Merlin: Oh! 😥 Is it because your teddy bear doesn't dance anymore? I'm so sorry, baby, but you can't do that kind of magic in here. (sniffs the diaper) Uh, looks like you're due for a change. (his eyes glow and a cloth diaper flies to him)

Gaius: If you want her not to use her magic lightly, you should set an example 😒. Especially because tomorrow-

Merlin: (ignores Gaiud while changing the baby's diaper) That's it, baby! 🤗 (picks her up again) Who pooped more solid poop today? You did, you did.

Baby: (happy babbling) 😄

Gaius: (sighs) Merlin, tomorrow-

Merlin: (still cuddling the baby) I know, tomorrow you'll be a good girl too, right, baby? Of course you will-

Gaius: (raises his voice) Merlin, tomorrow I won't be able to have the baby here!

Merlin: (turns to Gaius like a possessed doll) What? 🙂

Gaius: What I'm telling you, tomorrow there will be many injured. And all of them not only come to the medical tents after competing, but they also have to stay here if necessary.

Merlin: But that's terrible! 😣 Where will I and the baby rest? There's barely any room here! …. How am I going to hide the baby?! 😰

Baby: ☹️

Gaius: (seeing the baby getting nervous) Merlin-

Merlin: The servants already know about her, now the other knights will too-

Baby: 🥺

Gaius: Merlin-

Merlin: And they'll throw me out! And we won't be able to stay here-

Baby: 😢

Gaius: MERLIN!

Merlin: (shuts up)

Baby: (burst out crying and a couple of vials break) 😭

Gaius: Don't worry, I already have a plan. We'll take turns looking after the baby, and if anyone asks, we'll say she's the daughter of one of my patients from the citadel, like always. No one will suspect.

Merlin: 🫠 You could've started with that.

Gaius: And you could need some sleep.

Time skip. The next day at the armory.

Merlin: (enters with the baby in a baby sling, muttering) Taking care of a baby with uncontrolled magic while I have to attend to an arrogant prince of a sorcerer-hunting kingdom in a place full of sharp and pointed weapons. Nothing can go wrong with that idea, right? (yawns) I'm so sleepy.

Baby: (looks around curiously)

A hiss is heard.

Merlin: (turns to the sound) Hello? Is anyone there? (Shrugs and bends down to pick up Arthur's armor)

Baby: (close to Valiant's shield, makes graby hands to the drawing of snakes, delighted with the animals) 😃

In reaction to the baby's involuntary magic, the snakes emerge from the shield, hissing loudly.

Merlin: (frightened, screams and instinctively backs away, falling on his back and protecting the baby with his body) Ahhh! What the fuck! 😨 (When he looks back at the shield, the snakes are gone)

Valiant: (who entered a moment ago, draws his sword to threaten Merlin, believing himself exposed)

Merlin: (blinks, confused, and rubs his eyes) I really need to sleep. I'm starting to see things. (gets up)

Valiant: (lets out a sigh of relief and puts his sword away)

Baby: (scared, not by the snakes or the fall, but by Valiant's presence, bursts into tears) 🥺😭.

Merlin: (concerned, takes her out of the sling and rocks her) Oh, sorry, baby. Did I scare you? I'm sorry.

Valiant: You shouldn't be with a baby in here.

Merlin: (puts the baby back in the sling and gathers Arthur's armor, too tired and worried about the still-crying baby to worry about Valiant) Tell that to that idiot I have for master. (Yawns and leaves)

Valiant: …

Time skip. Merlin, still trying to calm the baby's crying, bumps into George in a corridor.

Merlin: (exalted, very quickly) She's the daughter of one of Gaius's patients!

George: (laughs softly) I didn't ask. But yes, I know, you've told everyone. Where are you going?

Merlin: I have to get Arthur ready for-

George: What?! 😨 You're going to attend to him with the baby?! Do you want him to kill you?

Merlin: (whines, stressed) I have no choice. Gaius is busy, and I have no one else to take care of her.

Baby: (cries louder) 😭 (the baby's magic flutters ornaments around)

Merlin: (panicked) No, no, no! Baby, please stop crying, please. (Almost on the verge of tears too)

George: (Pitying him) Let me take care of her. (Takes the baby)

Merlin: (Panics even more, afraid that George will notice the baby's magic, about to throw away Arthur's armor to take her back) No, wait!

George: (Recites a lullaby while rocking the baby; which means he doesn't sing, just says the lyrics in a monotone) Lullay, my liking, my dear son, my sweeting. Lullay, my dear heart, my own dear darling. Lullay, lullay, lullay. 😐

Baby: (Falls asleep as soon as George settles her in his arms) 😴. (And the decorations stop waving)

Merlin: …

Merlin: How did you do that?! 😱

George: (shrugs) I don't know, but I have five little brothers, and my mom always gave them to me when they cried a lot as babies, and when I talked to them, they fell asleep. I guess my voice calmed them.

Merlin: (thinking) I think it actually bored them… (says, very relieved) Thanks a lot, George! Keep her asleep and only wake her up to give her milk, okay? Gaius can tell you where he keeps the milk and when to give it to her. (starts to walk away briskly)

George: (calls out) After the fight, there's a shooting match. The prince almost never attends those, so you can rest.

Merlin: Thanks! (finishes leaving)

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters)

Arthur: You're late. 😒

Merlin: (tired voice) I know. (abruptly places the armor on the table)

Arthur: (scolding) Be careful with that!

Merlin: It's steel, it won't break. (lifts the chain mail) Raise your arms.

Arthur: You can't talk to me- 😠

Merlin: Your Royal Highness, please do me the honor of raising your arms. 🙄

Arthur: Better. (Raises his arms)

Merlin: (puts Arthur on his armor) Your helmet. (places the helmet on Arthur's arm)

Arthur: (looks at Merlin's work) At least you didn't forget anything this time. Let's go. (leaves)

Merlin: (follows, shuffling)

Time skip. After the match.

Merlin: (asleep in some hidden corner) 😴

Arthur: (finds him) There you are! Lazing around as usual 😡 (kicks him)

Merlin: (more asleep than awake, mutters) Yes, yes, I'll go give the baby some milk.

Arthur: What are you talking about? Get up! (kicks him again)

Merlin: (opens his eyes) Uhm… What happened?

Arthur: Asleep again? I need you to get me my bow and arrow, now!

Merlin: (confused, still stretching) What for?

Arthur: What do you mean, what for? To participate in the shooting competition!

Merlin: B-but… I thought you never-

Arthur: That's the rub. A good servant doesn't think, he obeys. What are you waiting for? Go! (kicks him again)

Merlin: Ow! Alright, alright I'm coming. (gets up reluctantly, thinking) He had to have urge to brag about his aim today of all days. 😓

And it turned out that the boastful prince not only wanted to participate in the shooting competition, but in all the day's activities. And Arthur, to not lose sight of his servant again, doesn't let Merlin leave his side. Merlin's eyelids are heavy, and his thighs are cramping from standing for too long. He's too tired.

Time skip. At the evening reception. All the competing knights (uninjured) are chatting happily.

Merlin: (with dark circles under his red eyes) Anything else you'd like, sire?

Arthur: (now out of his armor, cool as a cucumber) No, I don't think so. I'm already a bit tired. I think I'll have some rest.

Merlin: (his eye ticing) Really? You? Tired, sire?

Arthur: Yes, you may leave.

Merlin: (forces a polite smile) Thank you, my lord. (turns away)

Arthur: Oh, Merlin. I want-

Merlin: (turns to him and explodes, yelling) WHAT?! WHAT ELSE DOES YOUR GREATEST HIGHNESS WANT ME TO DO?! 😡 To undress you and tuck you in for bed?! To feed you in the mouth? To wipe your ass?! 😤

Knights around: (gasp) 😨😨😨😨😨😨

Arthur: (surprised Pikachu face) Uh… 😦

Merlin: For all the gods! Are you really so useless that you can't do anything by yourself? Can't you take care of yourself at all? Don't you have hands? I swear I've seen one-year-old babies and crippled men more self-sufficient than you! Merlin clean this, Merlin fetch that, Merlin hop on one foot and then do a somersault in the air! Leave me alone! I'm exhausted! I want to sleep! 😡(leaves, stomping)

Knights around: …

Arthur: …

Morgana: (holding back a laugh) I like him.

Time skip. In Gaius's Tower.

Merlin: (enters)

Gaius: (carrying the baby) Merlin! How could you leave the baby with- 😠

Merlin: (sharply) Not now. (smiles softly at the baby and kisses her forehead) Good night, baby. (goes to his room)

Gaius: Merlin! 😡

And Merlin falls dead onto his bed, not thinking about the consequences of his outburst… and which he would probably face the next day.

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

...

UHHH! Merlin really messed up, didn't he? What do you think will happen to him?

Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101 , @whitemaskcd , @robynnemrys , @genyxie , @trubel43 , @andrealux21

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Hazbin Masterpost

Mimzy

Mimsy was an interesting one to work on. I wanted to make sure she looked inhuman like the other characters, but without making too big of a change. Canon Mimzy basically just has the black eyes and sharp teeth.

She's apparently loosely based off a chicken, which is why she has a hooked nose. But I knew pretty early on that I wanted to use peacock colors. It also helps increase the color variety of the cast by reducing the red.

More notes under the cut

Face: I gave her face markings that resemble running mascara, because I figured she wanted to be a showgirl or movie star or something. But she kept getting rejected, so she cried a lot. And apparently "mimsy" was a word coined by Lewis Carroll and is a blend of "miserable" and "flimsy".

She has vampire fangs for two reasons:

1. She leeches off others. Alastor was missing for 7 years, and the first thing she does is dump her problems on him.

2. In the 1920s, there was an equivalent to femme fetale called "Vamp". Vamps were more or less extra promiscuous versions of flappers.

Hair: An iconic 1920s hairstyle was finger waves. I made them a bit loose, because I didn't like how it looked plastered to her head.

I know she has a tattoo in the show, but I don't know how important it is for her to have it. So I just didn't bother with it. If it becomes significant, I'll add it back in.

Mimzy said that she and Alastor ran in the same circles while they were alive. He frequented the club that she sang at. But she also sounds like she's from New York, so I'm not sure how/why they ended up in the same place.

She died in the 1920s in her late 20s or early 30s. Not sure how she died.

1920s fashion--

I'll try to keep this brief. You know the stereotypical flapper dress? With the fringes? That wasn't really a thing. The style was slim, dropped waist, and no curves. The clothes weren't heavily tailored and just draped over the body like a potato sack. Fringes happened occasionally, but not often. More common was beading, pleats, tiers, and ruffles. The skirts were shorter than in previous generations, but they were still below the knee. Sometimes the stockings would be rolled down so the edge was visible--Scandalous!

While I appreciate the body diversity with Mimzy, she is honestly not an ideal choice to show off 1920s fashion. Plus sized women could utilize vertical lines to help create the illusion of thinness. So I changed canon Mimzy's film strip motif and made it vertical instead. Historically, the top would not be so form fitting, but I'm claiming that modern influences got to her a little bit. But in her human design, I'm claiming it's just stylized.

The stereotypical flapper dress better resembles showgirls and lingerie, imo. Not entirely sure what to think of that, but there it is.

Makeup--There are two makeup styles to go over. Regular and movies.

Regular is fairly straight forward. Pale skin. Black eyeshadow(or a color that matched the eyes). Thin, pencil-drawn eyebrows that look kinda sad. Lips with an emphasized cupid's bow. Rosy blush on the center of the cheeks.

Movie makeup: I went down a rabbit hole with this topic. It gets pretty interesting, but I am simplifying a lot. I also only know the basics.

The 20s was a transition period of the types of film used. There was the older orthochromatic/blue-sensitive film, which struggled to pick up warmer colors. Reds ended up darker than they really were, and tended to emphasize facial blemishes. This was counteracted by lighting and makeup. They used Arc lights, which gave off a blue-green light, were noisy, and hard on the actor's eyes.

The idea was basically to wash everything in blue light, to counter any reds present. Then they just had to worry about values. White or creme makeup was used to even out the skin tone (At least for white people, didn't find anything for other skin tones, but I imagine the basic idea would be similar). Then dark blues were used to contour the face, enhance definition/contrast, and mimic blush. Light blues would act as highlights. The lips would vary based on if you wanted a natural look or not. Greens and yellows could get a natural to dark lipstick appearance. If red was used, it could only get a dark lipstick look. Overall, the actors would have looked pretty weird.

If regular makeup colors were used, then everything would end up looking too dark.

Panchromatic film started becoming more widespread by the late 1920s. It had a wider range of sensitivity(but was still more blue sensitive than the human eye, which is more yellow sensitive. Reds were difficult for film even into the 21st century. That could lead me into a tangent about the Raimi Spiderman films, but I'll hold it in). They were able to switch to incandescent lighting, which were quieter(important for the rise of "talkies") and easier to maintain. The way makeup was previously used in movies was essentially invalidated.

(Below)I'm not sure what type of film the left side was designed for exactly, possibly panchromatic(because the green and purple is an interesting choice) or early color. But the right side is for blue-sensitive films.

I guess I bring this up because it's interesting, and helps me justify her blue-green color scheme.

I think that's everything relevant.

(Feb 17, 2025- moved the human Mimzy picture to be above the cut)

[archangeldyke-all]

hi angel!! how have you been? first request so i’m kinda scared, but do you think you’ll bring back club mom reader? i thought that dynamic was soooo cute, maybe reader and sev go on vacation away from the girls and reader misses them, or anything you’d like!

have the best day ❤️❤️

oh my god i was just thinking about this story!! lets do something sweet and cheesy hehe

men and minors dni

buttercup finds you sulking in the locker room.

"mom, i need a bandaid, one of my blisters just burst-- oh, janna." she groans at the sight of you.

you sniffle, wiping up your tears and throwing your tissue behind your shoulder. "i'm fine!"

"you're so not fine." she coos, wrapping you up in a hug. you sigh and cry against your friend's shoulder. "fuck, you're pathetic. sevika's gonna love hearing about this."

"you can't tell her!" you gasp, scandalized. buttercup pulls away from you with a cackle.

"oh, come on. i bet she's crying on silco's shoulder about you right now, too." she teases. you groan.

"i know it's been less than a week but..."

"you miss her." buttercup says with an understanding nod. she's completely right. you do miss her. you thought you'd be able to make it through ten days with your girlfriend on a buisness trip, but apparently you can't go more than forty eight hours without her now. "you want me to show you my tits to make you feel a bit better?" she offers.

you laugh and open your desk, grabbing a bandaid. "no, that's alright." buttercup raises an eyebrow at you and you laugh. "okay, yeah, show me."

she sits on your desk and takes her pleaser off, before untying the string of her bikini top.

you blink at her tits. they're great tits. buttercup even gives you a bit of a shimmy. but you're horrified to find that it does nothing for you. "'s not workin' buttercup." you whine. "they're just not sevika's tits."

she cackles. "oh janna mom, you've got it bad." she ties her top back up and bandages her blister. "i'm telling her you said that, y'know. you two are just too fuckin' corny, i can't stand it."

"have you taken your break yet?" you ask as buttercup stands. she rolls her eyes.

"yes i've taken my break, that's the third time you've asked tonight. have you taken your break?"

"yeah." you respond sadly, staring down at the framed picture of sevika on your desk-- her one and only mugshot-- gifted to you by ran on your birthday this year. "i spent the whole half hour starin' at this picture of her."

"okay, i need to get out of here before i vomit from all the yearning." buttercup kisses your cheek and pats your back. "she'll be back in five days mom, you can make it! love you!" she calls over her shoulder as she walks back out to the club.

"love you." you grunt, slouching back down in your chair.

most of your girls find your yearning sweet. frosty and crystal are practically running the 'mom-vika' fanclub, always squealing over the two of you together.

mandy, trinity, and star have started calling sevika 'dad', to match your 'mom' title.

but you might actually be driving cherry crazy.

"how is it possible for you to look even worse today than you did yesterday!?" cherry groans as she walks into your tiny office at the start of the evening. you sigh.

"thanks cherry, you're a great friend."

she cackles. "awe, cheer up. she comes home in two days! aren't you excited?!"

"i've been excited for her to come home for eight days now. the excitement is starting to wear off." you pout. cherry groans.

"c'mon mom, you gotta get out of this slump! you think sevika wants to come home to some slimy sad sack!? no!"

"well, whaddya want me to do?"

cherry considers it for a moment, before a smile grows on her face.

"i've got the perfect idea."

forty eight hours, an afternoon of the girls teaching you some dance moves, and one nice long bath later; you're ready for sevika's arrival.

you've got it all planned out. she'll come home and find you in your lingerie (trinity's about your size so she let you look through some of the outfits stored in her locker) you'll push her into her favorite armchair, and you'll give her a little 'welcome home' lap dance.

and then, hopefully, you'll get fucked into next week.

you can hear her heavy boots stomping down the street from the end of the block. you squeak in excitement and light a few candles, before flicking the lights off and playing some music.

sevika stumbles through the door just as you're finished spritzing yourself in your favorite 'sexy' scent.

"welcome home ba--" you freeze. sevika gawks at you. her clothes are tattered, her luggage is missing, and some of the wiring on her mech arm is exposed. "what the fuck!?" you scream, scrambling across the room to cup sevika's face in your hands.

"is this for me?" she asks with a sultry smile. you sputter.

"you're bleeding!" you squeal. "what the fuck happened!?"

sevika shrugs and laughs. "some assshole tried to rob the train we were on. i took care of 'em. to thank me, the trainline lost my fucking luggage."

"wh-- are you okay!?"

"i'm much better now that i'm seeing this." she says with a giggle, snapping the band of your sexy undies against your hip. you snort and then lean into kiss her. sevika sighs against your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight against her chest. "janna, it's good to see you. i don't think i can go more than two days without you anymore, isn't that fucking insane? you're more essential to me than water."

you laugh and kiss her again. "fuck, i feel the same way. cherry almost strangled me for being so whiny."

"silco threatened to fire me if i kept 'moping.'" she says with air quotes.

you can't stop smiling. your plans for the night are likely ruined-- you'll have to bathe sevika and make sure she's not too injured before you can do any lapdancing, and by then you'll be too tired to be sexy anyways. still though. you can dance for her tomorrow night. you can dance with her for every night from now on, because she's back home. "y' wanna get married?" you ask-- the words slipping off your tongue easily, before you can even think them through.

sevika blinks at you. "wh--what!?"

"i don't have a ring or anything, but..." you trail off, realizing what you've just asked. "fuck, what do you want me to say, sevika? i've got a dozen stripper kids to take care of and you make good money--"

sevika cuts you off with a cackle. "you missed me that bad?" she teases. you grin.

"yeah, i did."

"yeah, me too. i had a ring i picked out for you in my suitcase-- saw it at some jewelry shop we passed."

"are you serious!?"

"why do you think i was so pissed they lost my suitcase?" sevika asks with a laugh.

"oh, janna i love you." you sigh as you lean in for another kiss.

sevika grins. "i love you, too. is this the outfit trinity almost killed that senator in?" you burst into laughter and nod guiltily. you didn't think she'd remember. sevika sighs dreamily. "my beautiful bride."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[sweetbunpura]

Blaze

First - Second

"Rolls, you keep all these books, but where's the one you were reading?" Yuu muttered to herself as she looked through the dorm for the book Rollo had asked for.

He was still at S.T.Y.X, having tests run on him by Idia and the others as they tried to learn why Rollo's blot levels weren't going down. The damage Malleus had done to him during his overblot had caused him to be bedridden. Yuu bit her lip as she remembered that Rollo had gone back in for surgery before she had left.

".....Child of Man."

Speaking of the devil, Yuu closed her eyes and sighed through her nose before slowly turning to see Malleus standing behind her in the hallway. The draconic fae didn't have any visible damage on him, outside of the tired look in his eyes, he was relatively unharmed. Yuu felt anger begin to boil in her stomach and she glares at him.

"What?"

"I...I came to apologize-"

"Keep it to yourself then, cause I don't wanna fucking hear it."

He flinched at her harsh words. "Please. I-"

"Draconia, do you know how much damage you did to everyone? And I'm not just talking about NRC, I'm talking about the entire world." Yuu folds her arms. "Locking someone in their dream hurts the person. What we dream about is often times us at our most vulnerable."

Malleus' eyes focused on her. "I..."

"Do you know what Rolls' dream was?"

"...."

"I know you know what it was, you were keeping an eye on everyone's, including mine." Her voice got sharper. "What was it?"

"His brother... he dreamt that his brother was alive."

"And mine?"

"Child of Man-"

"And mine?"

"You were back home and your father was alive." Malleus' hand curled into a fist. "Everything was happening at once! Lilia leaving and you talking about finding a way home! I was going to be alone again!"

Thunder boomed outside causing a green light to flash and illuminating the room. The fae flinched as he stared at the cold look on Yuu's face.

"You'd be alone? So, Sebek and Silver are what? Dead weight? Not there?"

"N-No-"

"But you'd said you'd be alone. Three years you've spent here, Draconia, and not once did you make yourself out to be friendly. You made yourself be aloof and mysterious. You were powerful and untouchable with an air of majesty about you."

"That is not-"

"But it is, right?" She raised her eyebrow. "It was only after you interacted with me did people start seeing you as being approachable. Sure you'll live for far longer than any of us will, but you'll have memories. Even if they hurt, you can look back on them with fondness."

"Then I'll be haunted by them instead." He bared his teeth. "You speak of all the good it brings, but never the hurt that follows. The memories you have of your father, they hurt you, do they not?"

"Of fucking course they do, but you know what else comes with it? Happiness. I'm glad those memories happened, I'm glad I can look back on them despite everything."

"You are not cursed with a long life!"

"And you were blessed with a loving living father!" Yuu snapped. "Lilia may not be your fucking blood, but he loved your ungrateful ass like his own son!" She snarled. "I would give anything to have my dad by my side! For him to see me graduate and grow into the woman he knew I could be!"

"And I gave you that, did I not?"

"That was a imitation, you sack of shit! You, who only thought to save Lilia and me, didn't think to regard the others! Call what you did for what it was, Draconia, it was you being fucking selfish! You fucking spoiled little brat!"

"I'm not a spoiled brat and I am not selfish!" Flames erupted around Malleus. "Such names you call me, but you are equally unable to see what you are! A sad and angry little girl!"

"I know what I am, Draconia, I just don't hide it! You expect me to roll over and accept what you've done!? To welcome you back with open fucking arms? News flash, you piece of shit, I didn't do that with the others and you certainly ain't getting the special treatment for this!"

"And yet you befriended them just like you have me."

"I gave them a second chance because they gave me time to fucking heal and think about what happened." She rolls up her sleeves, showing off the numerous blot scars. "Everyone caused a blot scar. They didn't come at me with a 'woe is me' story. They gave me time and a heartfelt apology. Meanwhile, you come to me after three days and expect me to open my arms up to you."

The flames died down as Malleus looked chestfallen.

"Draconia." Yuu's voice is quiet as she holds up the book Rollo requested. "Rollo is stuck at nearly overblotting, Idia and Ortho can't figure out why, and he's gone in for a 2nd surgery because of the wounds you caused him."

"I-"

"The amount of anger and malice coming off of you overfed his Unique Magic, that's how he was able to take you down. If I lose the man I love, I will personality hunt you down and show you how hard this 'sad and angry little girl' hits."

With that, Yuu shoved her way past Malleus and left Ramshackle. Leaving the young heir there to ruminate on what he had done.

[pearlescentparade]

OK PL SENDING MOINE IM GLAD I HAD IT PRE TYPED .

Noobador fluff request where player just has to relearn how to fight after chapter 3 because the ghostwalker weakened them a ton.. so they just.. go to Noobador while embarrassed about it. bantering ouuuhhhhhh.... Maybe some resting and focus on self-care..

-🍙

on your feet 🥊 noobador x reader fluff 💝

your linked sword weighs heavy in your hand.

almost like you haven't picked it up for a long time. but you know well that that's not the case, it couldn't be, you literally just used it in the battle for the ghostwalker.. you've swung it with ease ever since you embarked on this journey up until you collected that sword, at that point it was like an extension of your arm with how well it worked in tandem with you.

and yet, it now felt like it had the weight of the world, pulling your aching arms downward to the floor. it almost strains them.

the makeshift training dummy looks down on you, pitiful. if it could come alive, it'd laugh its straw stuffing out at you. the damn thing looks just about untouched, anyone would've thought that you only started training now if they happened to walk in right at this moment. but it's been an hour, and you've barely dented it with anything that somewhat resembles a scratch.

nevertheless, you brace yourself to take another shot. deep down, you're more than aware that it's foolish of you to keep trying when you know it won't work. but even deeper down, there's that tiny sliver of naive hope that a miracle will occur, that you'll cut down that stupid dummy and prove to yourself that you're fine.

despite your shaking hands, you steady your legs and raise the sword as best as you can (said best being slightly above your navel) to cut the dummy down. you swallow down your saliva, your doubt, to heal your dry and tight throat. your eyes, aflame with resolution, fix on your target, viciously glaring at it through your brows. the goofy eyes drawn on its paper bag head innocently reciprocate the stare.

down comes your blade, with all of your strength put behind it. and in that mighty swing...

the sword lightly drags diagonally across the dummy's torso.

it doesn't even pierce the fiber of its skin of sack. you basically just tenderly caressed it like it was your lover.

your eye twitches. you aggressively exhale, like a bull seeing red.

frustrated, you simply drop the sword, carelessly letting the metal clatter on the ground. you would've thrown it, but your arms are screaming at you enough. they seem to calm down now that you've let go, though.

you sigh, the unfortunate truth dawning on you: you're not in the condition to fight or continue on your quest. but what are you to do if not that?? it's been some time since you've done anything that didn't pertain to your quest.

...as sad as it sounded, you could really use a friend. what was the saying, misery enjoys company? yea, you'd love some of that right now, because you're downright miserable. and besides, speaking in terms of street smarts, it's always smart to be with someone you trust if you're vulnerable.

but who?

griefer is the absolute last person you want to see in this state, immediate no. he'd probably hiss at and make fun of you, and it'd piss you off more because you wouldn't be able to beat him up at the moment and it'd only make him laugh at you more.

you couldn't bear to bother kyoko when she's out exploring. besides, you don't really know where she is. for all you know, she could be towns away! the spontaneous nature of adventurers...

red and blue will tire you out for a fact. they're good kids, but they're kids. they will not let you have peace.

out of everyone, only one person really appeals to you as the best to go to.

or, he did at the time.

but now that you're standing face to face with him, you can't help but feel a bit ashamed of your state. despite having finished fighting a non-sentient and still object that had absolutely no way of damaging you, you look just as poor as you feel: disheveled hair, dirty clothing, and every limb quivering. and though noobador literally answers the door in a loose tank top and sweats, he looks miles beyond proper compared to you.

"...it's you."

noobador's eyes widen ever so slightly upon seeing you at his front door as he states the obvious. it makes you shrink even further into yourself than you already are, avoiding any possible eye contact with him as you mindlessly twiddle with your fingers.

was now not a good time? he doesn't sound particularly ecstatic to see you.. no, are you serious? it's just you, he doesn't owe you an excited greeting, don't be so full of yourself- maybe he's tired. or just stunned. you don't look too good, it's probably that. yea, you'd be shocked if you saw yourself too.

"..yeah. it is." your ears feel warm as you breathlessly mutter, borderline inaudible. meanwhile, your eyes find the hinges of his door incredibly captivating. how wonderfully brassy and rusted they are. oh my, they look recently oiled. yes, much more interesting than the man standing in front of you.

noobador takes one glance over at your shaking form, scrutinizing, as if carefully considering how he should approach you. then, he leans in and holds a hand up behind his ear to block out all other noise. "whaaatt? i can't hear you if you're gonna murmur, kid."

at the first chance he gets to tease you, noobador pounces for it, the sound of a smirk weaseling its way into his tone. you're funny like this, he thinks. it's not usually in his nature to torment others, but it's not usually in yours to be so skittish, so cut him some slack.

you squint up at him, looking directly at him. finally, noobador thinks.

"i- just repeated what you said, you don't need to hear it louder!" luckily for you, noobador's lighthearted mocking reminds you to be casual. part of your anxiety quells as you scowl at him. on the other hand, you're only growing more upset when he simply laughs. though you suppose you can't be too mad, given that you're not shaking like a twig anymore.

he then leans on the doorframe, quirking a curious brow with the intention of getting down to business. "well? you need something? i'm not too keen on having a staring contest on my porch all day."

huffing, you roll your eyes, "yea, i was getting to that." after taking a moment to mentally prepare yourself, you exhale. "okay, this might be kinda out of the blue, but can i please just chill in your place? i.. i need a break and i j- uagh!"

abruptly, noobador's large hand pushes you inside by your back, and you stumble over your feet a little from the force. before you can whip around to squabble with him again, he's already moving to the kitchen, leaving you standing in his living room dumbfounded.

"make yourself at home. red and blue should be out for most of the day, so we won't be having any disturbances." his gruff voice still rings clear, even when muted slightly from the next room over.

any witty remarks you wanted to make die on your tongue, as you sit on the couch in resigned defeat. from what you've seen of him, noobador is that 'what i say, goes' type, so it really shouldn't surprise you at this point. though, when you're the boss and parent of two children, it's impossible to not be a bit pushy.

what does surprise you is how unbelievably soft this couch is. despite its somewhat worn appearance making it look like it was picked off of the side of the road, you can't help but sink yourself deeper into it. you bring your legs up and lay on your side, nuzzling your head on a pillow next to the arm of the couch.

now that you're resting, the exhaustion creeps onto your feeble body, even more so with your newfound weakness. you could almost fall asleep right here.. and your heavy, drooping eyelids definitely agree.

"taking 'make yourself at home' a bit literally, aren't we?" you immediately jolt up. or, would've- if not for noobador's hand once again playing an unstoppable force and pushing you back to laying down. as fast as you got up, you're back down, square one.

with his other hand, noobador gently sets down a steaming cup on his coffee table with a light clink. "woah- take it easy, kid. i'm just messing with ya. sleep on my couch all you want, i don't care."

when he sees your curious eyes naturally draw to the cup, he elaborates, "oh, this? 's green tea. what, you want some??" you nod, a little too enthusiastically. with the terrible day you've had, noobador almost snorts at how your eyes practically light up.

but noobador brings his hand over the top of the cup and scoots it closer to himself, safeguarding his rightfully-earned pick-me-up. "then get up and go make some yourself, since you're so comfortable now." you shoot him a deadly glare, narrowing your eyes. what was the point of offering, then?! and how evil, to tell you to get up when your body has basically already thrown in the towel..!

he holds your gaze for a short while, before he huffs amusedly, deciding he's had his healthy dose of poking fun of you today anyway. "fine, ya got me. it's for you. don't get any on my couch or i'll knock you out."

he moves to carefully hand it to you. clearly experienced and traumatized from his own kids, he takes the liberty of warning you about the scorching bottom and facing the handle towards you so as to encourage you to hold the cup from there.

"yea, yea.. thanks."

you bring it to your face and lightly blow, before cautiously sipping. a rush of warmth seeps into your bones and blooms in your blood, and you can't fight smiling against the rim of the cup. even if it's a placebo effect tricking your mind, you'd like to think it's helping you regain some of your strength back.

noobador lays back against the couch. "you young punks sure like to throw yourselves in danger, huh? hardly my age, but doing double my work.. you'll get wrinkles earlier, going on like that."

you pout, "eww, i'm not gonna get wrinkly like you.. it's just this lil hiccup and i'll be back in business!"

"even small injuries can flare up into something bigger. take it from me," a reminiscent look glosses over his eyes, no doubt thinking back to his own moments of carelessness. and there's lots to spare, with the years of experience he's had.

"wow~ inspirational," you snicker, completely unserious. but you're listening, peering at the side of his head as you take another long sip.

he groans, bringing his hands up to rub his temples. "just take care of yourself, kid. 'cause nobody's gonna do it for you."

"really? 'cause you are." the mental image of noobador constantly looking after you like some kind of housewife makes you giggle. if only! you'd take breaks waaaaay more often.

he suddenly slaps his hands on his knees and pushes off of them to get up. "what i'm hearing is that you don't want anymore tea."

wildly, you gasp, crying after him as he walks off into a different room. "what- noo! fine, you're right! i'm sooorryyy, come backk!!" your hand half-heartedly reaches out for his back, before you let it fall on the arm of the sofa.

though it doesn't take long before noobador is back, this time with a comically huge and thick blanket in his hands. did he get that from his bedroom...?

before you can comment, he throws it on you, immediately engulfing you in fluffy darkness. while you vehemently fight to find the exit, grappling and tussling underneath the blanket, you can hear his haughty laugh from outside of your prison. jerk.

by the time you pop your head out, he's already reclaiming his seat next to you. "there. now you can get your precious beauty sleep."

"and what about my pillow?"

he rolls his eyes, mutters under his breath about how 'spoiled' you are, then stretches out his arm behind your head. you grin in victory, laying your head back against his firm muscle. you are spoiled, but he indulges you, so who's really to blame here?

surrounded by warmth, everything begins to feel heavy again. fuzz coalesces in your senses, and before you drift off, you think you feel yourself being pulled towards another warm body.

(parade postscript: exams aint got SHIT ON ME oooff this one turned out way longer than i intended in classic pp fashion but can you blame a writer for liking writing!!!!!)

[mongoosingisme]

Can I request pre-relationship and pining Shane? I feel like that man LONGS and I need to see that. Possibly some angst too or miscommunications. And for possible NSFW, his best friend is totally his hand 😼

Ding dong

Here's the longing you ordered

I threw in a side of yearning and a little self-deprecation dipping sauce.

Enjoy, and don't forget to tip your driver!

Title: Pepper Problems

Pairing: Shane x fem!reader

Word Count: 2580

Rating: Explicit, just to be safe. 18+ only, if you would be so kind.

Tags and story under the cut

Tags: yearning masturbation, fantasized oral sex, fantasized rough sex, sad sack Shane

As a rule, Shane tried not to want things.

When you wanted things, you resigned yourself to one of two eventualities. You either didn’t get what you wanted, or you got it for a while and then it turned to shit.

Better to live with what you had.

Then the new farmer moved in, and Shane found himself breaking his own rules.

He watched her as he slouched at the bar. She was making her rounds, like she did a couple times a week. She liked to give gifts, smiling and laughing, a kind word for everyone she encountered.

She remembered names.

She remembered stories.

She was a ray of fucking sunshine.

It rankled.

“Brought you some peppers,” she said, handing him a bag with a smile. “Heard you liked them.”

They were beautiful, shockingly red in the clear plastic bag. He could tell just by looking at them that they’d taste delicious - a firm bite, spicy with a slight bit of sweetness beneath them.

He wanted to smile. Wanted to thank her. Wanted to bask, for a bit, in her sunshine. To photosynthesize, to unfurl, to become green and bright.

But there was a limited amount of good that could be in Shane’s life at a time. He’d learned not to push things. The farmer, with her bright eyes and pretty smile, was far too much good to fit.

So he’d let a look of disgust cross his face. “You got the wrong guy.”

It felt right, the way shame washed over him as her face fell. Shame he had space for. His capacity for it was limitless.

“Well, what do you like?” she’d asked. 

“Being left the fuck alone.” 

And that should have been that.

————

Of course it wasn’t.

Of course the farmer started showing up even more. 

Not to see him, but she seemed to have made friends with Emily… along with everyone else in the fucking town.

They loved her, and who could blame them? 

He kept his head down, listened to her voice. It changed depending on who she was talking to. Sardonic when joking with Emily. Respectful when Louis leaned against the bar. Light and a little flirty when that writer guy was there.

They’d make a good pair. Shane imagined it as he stared at his glass. Imagined the way the writer would touch her, all slow and gentle probably. Kiss her knuckles, say something romantic. Undress her slowly, respectfully.

Not like Shane would. Not like he wanted to. Fast and rough, buttons flying, thin cotton ripping in his haste to get to her, to find the warm skin underneath, to grab, to bury his nose and mouth into every inch of her, to breathe in and feel her surrounding him, overwhelming and sweet and -

“Hey Em, can I get another?” He gestured to his glass, trying to stop the train of thought before it could pull any further out of the station. 

“Pickles.” The farmer was looking at him. She was speaking to him. The words didn’t make sense, though.

He hadn’t had that much to drink, had he?

“Do you like them?” She was waiting for an answer.

“Fuck no.” It was honest, at least.

“Hmmmmm…” She seemed to be making a list in her mind. “No peppers. No pickles. Berries?”

“Beer,” Shane said, as Emily set another drink down. “And silence.”

“Got it,” the farmer said, and turned back to whoever else was there. The doctor guy. Harold or Hector or whatever the fuck his name was. Her voice was slower when she spoke with him. She seemed to weigh her words more carefully.

Shane wasn’t sure what she sounded like when she spoke with him. He was too wrapped up in his own response. 

Her eyes met his. Squinted. Seemed to weigh his glance.

He’d been staring.

He quickly looked down at his glass, and didn’t look up again until she left.

———————

The days were always the same. Wake up with a headache and a sour stomach. Summon a gentle word or two for Jas as he left for work (“have a good day, Peanut”). Move through his tasks. Try not to let his disdain for his boss show. Try not to take out his frustration on Sam (the kid was alright, another one of those rays of sunshine. How did they keep finding him?). Suffer until work was done. Tell himself he was going to go right back to the ranch to make dinner for Jas and read her a bedtime story. Fail to do that. Sit at the bar instead, basting in uselessness and self-disgust.

The pattern was grinding, but at least it was predictable.

Unless the farmer showed up.

She changed the gravity of the saloon. Something tipped sideways whenever she walked in. 

She kept trying to give him things.

Why did she do that?

“Sunflowers?” She had a bouquet in her hand.

“What the fuck would I do with those?”

She considered. “I heard they’re pretty good roasted.”

“What, like in an oven?” Shane was curious despite himself.

“I think? I mean, sunflower seeds are good, right? So I think it’d be like a big mouthful of them?” She examined the flowers. They looked bright and cheerful. Just like her.

Her hair was loose that day. She usually wore it pulled back.

Not that he kept track of that sort of thing.

“Ooooh, my sister loves those!” Emily was admiring the flowers, and the farmer’s attention left him. 

That was okay. It let him watch.

She leaned against the bar, showing off the flowers. So fucking cute, that farmer, all happy and proud. 

Would she have looked at him like that if he’d taken the peppers?

He took a long drink.

The way she was leaning stretched her back out long. A thin strip of skin was bare between her pants and shirt. He imagined running his mouth up the length of her spine, skin all smooth and soft. Imagined holding onto her hips, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh there, moving her back against him.

He shifted and took another drink. 

The farmer had one too now. Same beer as him. Must have been a long day. She usually had a beer after a long day. Less intense ones usually ended with wine or a cocktail. She’d been doing gin and tonics lately.

Not that he was paying attention.

She would sip at her drink, talk with whoever was nearby. It was incredible, the way she could strike up a conversation with anyone. He was never able to do that. Three words in and he was doubting himself. 

His eyes flicked to her breasts as she leaned forward to laugh at something Emily said. A quick glance. Just enough to see the way the bar pushed her up, gentle curves mounding above her neckline. He thought about pressing his mouth there, scraping his teeth against her skin. Grabbing at her breasts, pushing them together. Would she let him fuck them? What would they feel like, surrounding his cock?

Probably really fucking good.

The writer guy wouldn’t treat her like that.

He took a drink.

His glass was empty. 

“Hey, Em?” 

“Yep.” Emily was moving, refilling his glass.

“This one’s on me,” the farmer said. “Since it’s the only thing you like.”

“He likes peppers too,” Emily said, setting his glass down.

The farmer made a squawking sound. It was adorable. “I tried to give him peppers but he turned them down!”

“That’s because he’s very stupid,” Emily said evenly.

Shane raised his glass in agreement. His stomach was turning, shame filling up the corners. 

He shouldn’t care about getting caught in a lie.

It shouldn’t matter.

The farmer was switching seats, coming over to sit next to him.

“No,” he said flatly as she settled in.

“I bought you a beer, the least you could do is give me a complete sentence.” She was leaning on her elbow as she said it, body starting to soften. It usually did when she was more than halfway through her drink.

“No is a complete sentence.”

“Do you like peppers or not?” There was no sunshine in her voice when she spoke to him, he realized. There was a gentle directness, though, that made him feel entirely off balance.

“Does it matter?” He focused on his drink, and not the way her cheek looked so soft as it settled into her hand.

He wanted to be her hand.

“Yes,” she said simply. “So answer the question.”

Shane sighed. Studied his glass. There was a small chip on the rim. 

“Yeah, I like peppers.”

The farmer made a satisfied sound. Shane risked a glance at her. She was smiling, but not the big sunshiney one. It was smaller. Controlled. 

Sincere.

It felt like being let in on a secret.

“I have more. I’ll bring them tomorrow.” It wasn’t a discussion.

Shane wondered how much of her sunshine was an act.

“Don’t… don’t just… I don’t need your fucking peppers.”

“Well, what do you need?” Her gaze was level. 

Shane looked at his glass again. Spun it around with his fingertips. “Nothing from you,” he finally said.

Something in the farmer seemed to deflate. Shame boiled again, but then he realized he hadn’t punctured her. He’d relieved her. Taken some burden off her shoulders he hadn’t realized she carried.

“Thank Yoba,” she laughed, then took a long drink. “I swear I need a different personality for every person here.”

Shane made a quiet sound of acknowledgement. 

The farmer didn’t say anything else.

They sat together in silence, finishing their drinks.

It was nice. 

It was really, really fucking nice.

Shane began to realize he was doomed.

——————

The farmer pushed at the edges of Shane’s mind, a persistent pressure that fogged him over whenever he let his guard down.

Stocking cans of string beans? She was leaning over him, checking the nutrition label.

Walking over the bridge? She was sitting on the side, smiling that controlled little smile.

Watching a snack spin round in the microwave? She was behind him, talking to Jas, fitting into his life in a way that made him ache.

So he tried not to think about her.

It almost worked, except for when she was there at the saloon.

Laughing. Talking. Giving. Smiling.

And then he couldn’t not think about her. Couldn’t not acknowledge her. Couldn’t not follow her down whatever conversational path she wandered onto.

“It’s disgusting.” A flat refusal.

“She’s right.” Emily backed her up.

And Yoba help him, he was drawn in. “Get a more adventurous palate.”

“Pineapple on pizza isn’t adventurous. It’s blasphemy.” 

She was on her second beer now, body loose and leaning in a way that made him want to move, to press her back against the bar and see just how pliant she could be. 

He bet he could make her real pliant.

“It’s the contrast,” he tried to explain. He was on… was it drink five? They all started to blur together after a while. “The sweet and juice against the salty and chewy from the ham. They have to go together.”

“Yeah, in the fucking garbage.” There was a teasing brightness in her eyes. 

“Philistine,” he said. 

The farmer laughed.

That felt really, really good.

He took a gulping drink. 

The sound of her laughter followed him home.

Stumbling into his room, he heard it.

Shucking his pants, his jacket. Falling into bed. It surrounded him.

He’d made her laugh. Made her look surprised, happy. Made light come into her eyes.

He gave her something.

It was so good.

But there was so little room for good in his life.

There was no way to make her fit.

His mind spiraled. 

Her laugh. 

Her smile.

Her face.

Her hair.

Her body.

That, at least, was a safe enough place to let his mind rest. 

It didn’t hurt so much, to parse it in terms of sex. To fantasize and want. Darker and harder than her laugh and her smile.

The farmer, spread out beneath him.

Soft and giving.

He could grab at her, see the way her body molded to his hands. Feel her give way to him.

His hand found his cock.

What would she sound like, if he pressed at her breast with harsh fingers? Would she whimper? Cry out? Would she love it?

(yeah she’d love it she’d love it so fucking much, arch her back up into his hands and keen and moan and beg for more, fucking beg for his hands on her and…)

Her smile. Her fucking smile. That mouth and those lips and that tongue. Soft, had to be soft, would feel so good wrapped around his cock, sucking, taking him as he thrust down into her throat.

(she’d take it so good, he knew it, knew she’d groan around him and look up at him with those pretty eyes, tears at the corners while he grabbed at her hair, moved her head, made her choke on him and the whole time she’d keep those eyes on him, asking him for more…)

The tension in his body started to coil.

He worked himself faster.

Fast, like he’d move inside her. Put her on her hands and knees. Press a hand down hard on the small of her back, make her arch. Or, no, hips, those hips, that softness giving way to his fingers as he pulled her back. 

(she’d move, he’d make her move, make her tighten and gasp and shake, make her fingers claw at the blanket, the one that was under him right now, make her bite at the bedspread to keep from screaming, because he’d pull her in just right, just the way she needed [he knew she needed it, he knew, he knew he could give her just what she fucking needed], and she’d tense and tighten and tremble and squeeze and come and come and come and when she was done he’d make her do it again, just keep her there under him, around him, her hair and her neck and her eyes and her smile, smiling back at him as he pushed in hard and deep and…)

He came, a weak, unsatisfying thing.

He pressed a hand over her face.

He could still hear her laughing.

He wanted to hear her laugh.

What the fuck did he do now?

——————

That night the farmer had a bag with her.

A jar of pickles, for the doctor.

A bundle of wool, for Emily.

A bottle of wine, split between the writer and that chick who moved in near the ranch.

A bright, round orange for Gus.

Smiles all around, given and returned.

Nothing for him.

“On a scale of one to ten, how grouchy are you today?” She settled in next to him with a drink.

Shane didn't say anything, just shot her a tired look.

“Me too,” she said, and smiled. Controlled. Real.

“Wanna split some pepper poppers?” He’d said it without planning to, without thinking.

“Nah, I hate peppers.” She rested her head on her hand.

“Noted.”

He wanted to be her hand.

He wanted.

As a rule, Shane tried not to want things.

But some part of him, a traitorous vine, kept reaching for her light. And as they sat there in silence, a heaviness settled in.

There was no way this didn’t end in pain.

Sometimes it was better to cut things off before they’d had a chance to begin.

(Looking for a part 2? You got it. Find it here.)

Masterlist

[dictatortirah]

Few days ago I told my friends I have design rules specific for every major character in Gleamfolk City and they asked me for an example, so I just dumped about most of Nero's design rules

(These aren't strict to art style. Its just for me expressing his character right)

- black lineart because hes a frowner. When drawing him in groups, try to make him stand out by stepping aside a bit, or just isolating himself because he just does that, even dulling his colors more if i have to.

- Try to ALWAYS draw his eye half lidded. Hes just always tired all the time and when he actualy widens his eye, its mostly around Gura or his friends. (feeling more loose around em)

- His silhouette is always closed in on himself, poses always tucked. But its ok to ignore this rule when trying to show how clumsy and unkempt he gets, like falling down or tripping a lot, or just making an awkward sad sack of himself

- Him always being on his non-blind side is on purpose. He literaly sticks to walls to cover his blind spot

- the way he stands and moves always looks so, heavy and damp like a wet cloth

- ever since he got out of the cult he tries to hide everything bout his old self, including his part in cannibalism. so he hides his teeth a lot and just moves to vegetarianism. So his teeth is basically like , a sign of his old self. When hes being a jerk, or showing his true colors a bit, he expresses himself through his teeth a lot more. Looking uglier and wrinkly

Other examples:

Hemlock - hemlock is one of da more experimental ones, but they have a funny gimmick. Theyre big and thorny, and always just invading other peoples businesses. All their movements and gestures seems like theyre literally just pushing themselves to your space, while also hating everyone in it. "Hey im here im here!! get out of my damn way this is my road!!"

I dont get to draw it often, but hemlocks neck bush and thorns does soften and face downwards a bit whenever theyre alone or letting themself loose

Orchid - she's insecure and unconfident but as mayor, she forces herself to get out there, maybe acting overly boisterous. But she tries to keep a very very friendly face where anyone would feel comfortable to be around with. Though there are constant wrinkles under her eyes. Her poses should always feel forced

[lavenderprose]

WIP Whenever

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. I was playing with it again this week and I have no idea what it is or where it's going, but I'll drop it here for the Intrigue. Have fun!

--

Elgar'nan dies, Solas walks into the Fade. The first order of business is to get Bellara to Antoine and Evka. Well, actually, first order of business is to get everyone down the Blight tendril somehow. This involves a lot of held breath and a few carefully-applied spells to make sure everyone makes it down safe. Then they find the Wardens.

"We don't know what's happening," says Evka, because Antoine is losing it a little bit from how he CAN'T, for the first time in several years, hear the Blight whisper to him.

"We don't know either," Rook says. She thrusts Bellara into Evka's arms. "Please, please make sure she's alright. You're Wardens. You know the Blight. Please help her."

Neve's heart visibly rips in two as she watches the Wardens leave with Bellara, but Minrathous is a mess, even with the Blight dying, and she has people she needs to check on. Lucanis goes with Neve because there's a little invisible thread connecting them now and he needs her to feel a little bit okay with everything that's happened. In a way, this feels very obvious and normal. In other ways, it's insane, but no more insane than anything else that's happened this month.

Davrin, of course, goes with the Wardens.

With two thirds of the remaining Veilguard rushing towards Lavendell or Dock Town or Where The Fuck Ever, Rook turns to Emmrich and Taash and says something like, "Someone else please make a decision."

"Food," grunts Taash. "You should eat. You'll feel better. Can someone find Rook some food?" This is shouted to the surrounding crowd--a random conglomeration of allies and bystanders.

Someone, a random Shadow Dragon, appears in less than a minute with potato balls wrapped in a napkin. Multiple someones have shown up to the staging area for the burgeoning search and rescue operation with full sacks of potatoes and flour and corn meal and cabbage and they're cooking them in whatever way is quickest and easiest.

The three of them--Taash, Rook, Emmrich--sit directly on the ground and eat. Rook presses the side of her head against Emmrich's back and mashes the potato against her face with one hand while the other wraps so tight around him that she can feel the shape of his ribs when he breathes. Absolutely nobody mentions that this is a deeply impractical way to sit or eat.

"Emmrich," she whispers. "I'm gonna fucking lose it."

All Emmrich says is, "Here?" and it's a genuine question. He's more than willing, she realizes, to let her have whatever kind of screaming crying episode she needs to have right here, in the middle of blighted Minrathous. She wouldn't even be the only one within earshot.

"I want to go home," she hisses into his shoulder. "Can I go fucking home?"

The answer turns out to be kind of. The Eluvian is miles away, in the burnt out husk of the Shadow Dragons’ safehouse, and both walking and a carriage are out of the question. It will be perhaps several days before the roads are clear and safe enough to mount that particular expedition.

Upon realizing this, a determined look crosses Emmrich's face and he vanishes for quite awhile. Rook sits on the ground with five different people's blood on her, Taash hovering in a protective stance and, after a little while, Manfred at her side. He comes to her like an animal or baby that can sense his parent's sadness. He gifts her a stub of chalk from his pocket, a flower he'd found poking out of the pavement somewhere nearby, and another potato ball that some confused but well-meaning volunteer had handed him.

Emmrich returns with Dorian Pavus and Inquisitor Lavellan echoing his purposeful strides.

"I keep an apartment in this district," Dorian tells her, crouching beside her. “The building is undamaged, as far as we can tell. It isn’t one of my official residences.”

“You can recover there, darling,” Emmrich says. He’s on one knee beside her, hand on her shoulder. He smells like Blight and blood, like all of them.

“Nobody will know,” Inquisitor Lavellan says. He is standing very close to Dorian’s shoulder, and Rook thinks about the conversation she overheard before the final push of the battle. There’s an assumption to be made there, about why Magister Pavus would maintain a secret residence.

“Fine,” Rook says, because it isn’t home, but it isn’t the Blighted shell of the Divine’s manor.

Dorian Pavus’ secret apartment is not, strictly speaking, close. They walk for over an hour. The scarred over Blight is a consistent sight on the way, though it begins to wane as they move farther away from the city center. The apartment is on a stretch of road that would probably have once been quiet and idyllic—but here, as in High Town, there is the evidence of Elgar’nan’s evil.

By the time the door to the apartment is opened, via a small silver key that Dorian presses into Emmrich’s hand like a secret, Rook can do nothing more but take a handful of steps inside, press her body against the wall and sink down into a relieved, shuddering crumple. Emmrich collapses beside her only a second later and removes the outermost, heaviest layers of her armor in an only slightly frantic scramble. Once she is lighter, her breath seems to come a little easier. Emmrich, both hands glowing, smooths his touch along every part of her.

“Hey, is she gonna be okay?” Taash asks, hovering in the doorway.

“She used a great deal of mana in her defeat of Elgar’nan,” Emmrich says, speaking succinctly. Rapidly. “Her abilities are intensely fatigued.”

“I’ve seen that kind of mana sickness kill people,” Dorian mutters.

“Yes, but she will recover,” Emmrich says. “Taash, a favor?”

Taash draws close, grunting in question, and Emmrich gives them a seemingly endless list of things he needs. His hands are still scouring over her body as he does so—chaste as any healer’s, but gentle. Comforting. The incantation lighting his hands is a diagnostic tool, and he pauses over a rib she can feel is broken, and that tricky wrist of hers, and the gash on her forehead from the initial stages of the battle as they were fighting through High Town—what feels like weeks ago, but is in reality only about twelve hours in the past.

Maker, she’s tired.

His hand passes over her stomach and he pauses, frowns, knits his brow and licks his lips.

“That everything?” says Taash, with a kind of intense focus on their face that tells Rook they’re cataloguing the information given to them. They can rival Emmrich with their mind for lists and detail, when they set themselves to it. Other information they allow to trickle uncaught through their mind, but only that which they consider unimportant. Vashedan.

He clears his throat. “Dorian. Is there a butcher near?”

“Yes,” Dorian says, with an open tone of skepticism. “I doubt he opened shop today, what with the—situation.”

“You would be surprised how little effect calamities have on the day-to-day operations of a butcher shop,” Emmrich says. There is something so intense about him in the moment, and utter beauty in his competence. He has taken and ran with Rook’s request that anyone else make a decision. She can do nothing but watch, half-drifting, from her spot next to him on the floor. To Taash, he says, “Go to the butcher. Pound on the door, make a nuisance of yourself until someone answers. We need the reddest meat they have available, preferably organ meat. We’ll pay any price.”

“Okay,” Taash drawls. “But like…why?”

“Iron,” Emmrich says promptly. “Her use of mana and…other circumstances have made her severely deficient. We must replenish it or risk blood sickness.”

“No meat,” Rook mutters. “I don’t—”

“Our vows make allowances for health, my love,” Emmrich coos, his entire demeaner changing suddenly as he leans over her, presses cool fingers to her forehead. “I only need it for the iron. I’ll prepare it into a tincture. You won’t taste the blood.”

“Red meat, got it,” Taash says, and all but flees the apartment.

“I must take my leave as well,” Dorian says, albeit reluctantly. “High Town is a holy shit show and I can’t leave Shen—that is, the Inquisitor—to fend for himself in that bag of cats. I should tell you—you won’t have very long to hide your faces. A few days, at most, before people start expecting someone to speak out about this whole mess. The Inquisitor and Morrigan can only answer so many questions. And people will have questions.”

“Yes, thank you, Dorian,” Emmrich mumbles. The first time he says it, it’s with annoyance coloring his tone—and Rook would laugh, if she wasn’t floating in a haze of residual panic and what she’s beginning to realize is mana sickness. The second time he says it, however—very softly, big hazel eyes turned to Dorian as he pets Rook on the cheek, is genuine. “Thank you. Dorian.”

“Of course,” Dorian says. Stiffly, like he isn’t a man very comfortable with gratitude or genuineness therein. He clears his throat. “I’ll hold the wolves at bay for as long as I can, professor. At the very least, they won’t know you’re here. Maker guide you.”

“Be safe, my friend,” Emmrich replies.

When the door closes, they are plunged into grey darkness and utter silence. Even the grand clock on the far wall doesn’t tick. Rook wonders how long it’s been since the apartment saw regular use; the very air around them seems dusty. Perhaps there’s no necessity in it these days; Dorian’s relationship with the Inquisitor is, she’s discovered, something of an open secret. That’s about to get a lot more complicated for them, she thinks.

“We’re in the Inquisitor’s secret Tevinter love nest,” Rook mumbles.

Emmrich warbles out a snort—a sound which seems to take even him off guard. For a moment, they dissolve into laughter together, and Rook doesn’t feel the panic or the pain so distinctly.

“Come, my love,” Emmrich murmurs, and brings them both slowly to standing. “I’ll heal your injuries, and then you’ll rest while we wait for Taash to return.”

[cod-fishing]

some unrelated trauma-themed cod headcanons because i just can't let these boys go:

-Soap loves to get absolutely blasted every once in a while. Ghost will have 1 drink but doesn’t like being inebriated. His dad was a drunk, and he's afraid of being the same, already feels like he’s turned into his dad too much as it is, being so accustomed to violence. Also, being inebriated and far from his body reminds him of the attempted brainwashing, so he can’t do it. Ghost doesn’t mind Soap being drunk though, cause hes a cutsey silly giggly drunk 99% of the time, and a sad sack crying drunk the other 1%. Either way, he gets to watch out for him.

-Ghost has complicated feelings about his mom. Most people think he must love and cherish her as some angel, since his dad was so bad, but in many ways she was complacent in his and his brothers abuse. Shes not the devil, but shes no angel either. 

-Soap has complicated feelings about his on paper perfect childhood, which only get more complicated when he falls for Ghost. Middle class, big loving family, football and 4.0 and lots of friends. Never got bullied, never saw any kind of bad till he joined up. So how did he get here? Why is he so fucked in the head to be so good at killing, and warfare? He doens't know, and he wrestles with that a lot. In a world of men built by their trauma, Soap is a complicated outlier. 

-Part of the reason Ghost likes the mask is because the feeling of it makes him secure and dampens sound just a little bit. Especially after his torture, he has a hard time with lots of sounds/crowds/conversations happening at once. The mask just turns the volume down just enough, muffles things just right. Even when he starts being more comftable going maskless with Johnny and the team, he still usually wears a beanie to cover his ears.

[porcelainseashore]

They Don't Make Them Like Her Anymore - VTM Bloodlines 20th Anniversary

Commissioned art by @medeaft

Author's Note: I wrote this to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines and for a Gallery Noir server event by @vampemoqueen and @bigswordenergy.

Step into the shoes of our favorite sick freak, Vandal Cleaver, as he ruminates on the recent happenings in his life. Pliers and blowtorch included. Terms and conditions apply.

Content Warnings: Violence, torture, self-harm, body horror, mild gore, mild sexual content, obsessive behavior, blood bond, Hannah Glazer and Therese Voerman mentions, murder.

Hannah, Hannah… oh, Hannah. They don’t make them like her anymore, do they? It was sad actually—tragic—well no more tragic than another dead hooker found in a soulless apartment Downtown. Nothing that would make the headlines, not even worthy of a back page obituary in the local paper. Heh, I may be a sap for saying this, but she was good enough for me.

You see, they don’t make them like her anymore. No shit. The new girl? She can’t quite do the job like Hannah did, but since when were beggars choosers? Yeah, I know my place in the pecking order. At least she has the stomach for what I request of her. Doesn’t outright scream, “You fucking freak!” in my face, leaving me high and dry. I need my fix afterall, like the rest of you… Hiding dirty little secrets to dig out between your sorry sack of bones with a scalpel—do you know what a skilled hand can do with a scalpel? Have you ever run your finger across the edge of a blade? Any blade—come on, don’t lie to me now, we’re friends, aren’t we? Everyone’s done it once in their life, lost their innocence as blood blooms from the vulvic slit like a bouquet of roses. Sometimes it gushes like a torrent, depending on how deep you sliced. Shh, it’s okay to get carried away. Your secret’s safe with me.

Anyway, she does as I ask, like a good enough girl, then pukes her guts out—politely—in the bathroom next door. I know, because I hear it. Her chest concave and hollowed, heaving, organ crushing against organ as she squeezes her lungs, gagging on saliva and air. They don’t make them like her anymore, you get what I’m saying?

Earlier, I watched as the flimsy fabric of my skin peeled away, acid pink flesh melting from bone, and the charred layers curling under the blue flame like burning plastic. What remains blisters and festers. I’ve done it so many times I think all that can be salvaged from me are deadened nerves and an empty husk. I like being empty though. Sprawled out on the floor, naked and clean as a newborn while the world around me spins in circles. For a moment, everything feels attainable and unattainable. 

My queen… queen of all queens—

And just like that, it’s gone. I’m left with the chick who has a blowtorch in one hand and her nose in the other, pinching it as though the fumes are toxic. Her hands are always trembling, like an addle-brained patient, maybe because I don’t know whether I’m laughing or screaming half of the time.

My body is already mending at twice the speed when she brings out the pliers. I am a god and a shitty mistake all in one—not quite like the bitch goddess who owns me, but almost. Give it another hundred years, and I’ll be standing in this exact room, cutting myself open with my bare hands, alive and kicking to see the process. Imagine tucking my fingers under the sagging flaps, flaying skin from tissue as I pull it apart. Wet, stinking clumps of flesh and its sinewy tendons will stick between my nails, overstaying their welcome, yet impossible to scrub out. And that smell—mmm, that smell! A putrid, cloying tang of filthy pennies, assaulting my senses like a hammer to the head. I want to untangle my entrails like the wires in my brain that got crossed somewhere, just to check and see if they’re the same as everyone else.

Oh, so the new girl needs a bit of encouragement, does she? Lingering there slack-jawed and taking her sweet time. The missus—no, I mean, Hannah never needed to be told twice. Deep down, I think she even enjoyed it, the sick fuck. They don’t make them like her—

“Do it,” I hiss, saliva drooling from my lips like a rabid dog.

I hear bones snapping before the pain hits me, rattling my teeth as an excruciating jolt shoots up my arm. For a split second, I’m blinded by a searing white light. My thumb is dangling at an awkward angle and I must be howling, because the look on that girl’s face… well, what wouldn’t I give to have a picture as a keepsake? Frame it up on the wall like a goddamn Picasso.

Sometimes I feel the hairy legs of spiders skittering around my skull. It tickles like the high strings of a violin being plucked—faintly, daintily, as if it were never there. Sometimes I say things, but my words aren’t my own. And it’s happening right now. The girl before me is no longer a girl, but the queen bitch herself.

“Therese,” I weep and moan. It’s lewd and urgent like a fever prayer falling from my lips. I swear I could cum from her name alone, and I hate myself for it.

“What did you just call me?”

Therese in body and blood, spirit and flesh. Therese in all her unbearable glory. The cold metal clamps down on my trigger finger and her grin is so wicked I can only grovel and lick the dirt off her boots. She’s inside of me. When I hurt myself, she hurts too, and I enjoy it.

“Yes, please! Oh, mistress, oh fuck—”

My eyes shut as I throw my head back, mouth in the shape of an “O” that’s simply ridiculous. I try not to imagine how it looks like one of those snuff tape suckers in post-coital, or should I say, post-feast bliss. Disgusting and vile. I remember mocking them with Phil as I forced him to watch every single Death Mask film in that dingy basement of the Santa Monica Clinic.

When I come to, my balls are no longer heavy and aching, like an oppressive, shameful need. Semen trickles down my leg, pooling in my pants as though I wet myself. It smells of rotting fish and I’m trying not to cry. I wish it were the Nectar of the Gods instead.

A flash of anger rears up in my chest and I tear my eyes open. Therese—no, the new girl lies like a crumpled doll on the floor, mouth agape in that stupid “O.” Good enough like a pair of single-use gloves to dispose of in the trash without a second thought. Except, I used mine again and again. What’s the point if they break apart so easily? They don’t make them—

I yank her face towards me. The whites of her eyes loll back as I squash the fat of her cheeks within my bloodied hand, and her lips mime a fish sucking in breath.

“Tell me I’m good enough! Say it!” something that sounds more akin to a pig squealing explodes like a burst tap.

The stumps of my fingers move her mouth like a ventriloquist, but she says nothing. Blood smears across her dull skin. She doesn’t wake up. That can only mean one thing: useless. They don’t—

I let her body fall to the ground with a thud. Whipping a phone out from my back pocket, what’s left of my fingers fly over the keypad, punching in a line I’ve rehearsed a thousand times.

“A special order for the mistress.”

Tears cloud my eyes as I hear my quivering breath. It’s shallow and erratic. I still can’t tell if I’m laughing or crying half of the time.

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

I was very pro-SNW's portrayal of Chapel in the beginning, but I do think at the end of the day they made her too cool. I appreciate wanting to make up for the way the men in TOS and its fans shat all over her back in the day, but the reason I've always loved Christine Chapel is that she's brilliant and compassionate and funny and also kind of a loser. Like, not really. But kind of. Like in a Shauna Sadecki, Edna Krabappel way. Fierce and haunted and caustic and a flop in her personal life (affectionate).

And I don't know, I feel like if we eventually have that arc with SNW Chapel it won't land right. It will feel like tearing down a winner, and I think it's better if she's always been a bit of a sad sack at heart. A noble, brave sad sack, but a sad sack nonetheless.

I say this with love, I really do! I would die for Christine Chapel. The poor sap.

[gonetoforks]

Introducing; Yuichi Usagi-Cuddles!

There’s a slight typo in his basic character bio, (first, grey image) other than “yuich,” his family in America lives in the part of the hidden city under Jersey. He lives in Jersey. He’s a Jersian. So in terms of leosagi, it’s gonna be an enemies-to-lovers comedy-of-errors muahahahaha!!

More (a LOT more) info about him as his own guy under the cutoff :D ⬇️

Basically; He’s a silly guy! I feel like his kinda buffoonish, embarrassing personality in canon is simultaneously PERFECT for Rise’s writing style & grievously underrated in fanon depictions. So he’s this clownish type of character, haha.

Okay, time to go hyperfixation mode.

Adhd & his stubborn attitude;

He has ADHD! Executive function issues makes it hard for him to start tasks & manage himself, so he relies on his teams (the Mad Dogs when he’s training & the Rise equivalent to his canon friend group on his own time) to not only instruct him, but also hold him accountable & keep him on task. He’s body-doubling without even realizing it.

Although, he resents the things he does to accommodate his disability. He doesn’t notice that doing the things he does genuinely helps or why so he thinks he’s using them as a crutch because of incompetence. Every time he gets stubborn and ignores the things he needs to do, he crashes and burns. When he was new in town with no teacher & no friends who liked martial arts, he became a huge sad sack until the kraang invasion.

His character arc is about being able to rely on other people & accommodations. That relying on a bit more help than other people doesn’t make you incompetent, choosing to seek out the support you need so you can do your best is the true mature thing to do. I was inspired by canon Yuichi’s struggles with paying attention and Rise’s themes of cooperation. (& also my own experience with adhd and learning with executive function issues & junk)

Relationships w/ the turtles;

The Mad Dogs agree to let him like, intern with them? So he can see what it’s like to be a vigilante, they offer him advice and they occasionally go on low to mid-tier missions with his help. They take him on cause they think more heroes and allies out there, the less work they have to do haha. Also, one of the writers mentioned a season 3 would have them adjusting to being ~official heroes,~ I think this would be them trying to be “real.”

He’s closest friends with Mikey out of the whole group! (Adhd solidarity) Then it goes Donnie -> Raph -> and finally Leo (for now muahaha)

I tried to give Leosagi an interesting dynamic with constructing his character like this; They have similar insecurities from drawing self-worth from technical capabilities that they can develop past together, but Leo is clever and calculating about it vs Yuichi being rash and impulsive. So like smart x stupid but they’re the same actually.

His Family in Jersey;

He speaks english fluently because he’s visited his American family frequently his whole life, they’re very close. He has an accent though since he mainly speaks Japanese.

I haven’t fleshed out this concept enough, but I think members of his jersey/Cuddles half of the family would be spoofs of characters from the original yojimbo comics, implied to be reincarnations? Except Miyamoto ofc. (i’ll explain later..)

Reusing the ninja orphans plotline from the original show, his family utilizes their cute appearances to run an orphanage too. They wonder why this Chizu lady is constantly showing up with unhoused children, but they’re just grateful they’re safe now.

Everyone in his family HATES Mrs. Cuddles, they all think she’s in prison and are happy about it. She might’ve given him that scratch on his face.

Additional;

He is gay.

Thank you for your time.