#so i took a different picture of her with her mouth in a better position

[liebelesbe]

anyways Louise is a little lesbian. imo.

[ID: An icon of Louise Belcher wearing a bolo tie in front of the lesbian pride flag. End ID]

[pantheresssy]

— paige bueckers and reader ⋆*. * ·

—┊⋆ summary: what’s supposed to be a funny and small photo shoot with you dressed with paige’s number five uconn shirt, had turned out a little bit … different.

— ┊⋆ cw: 18+, smut, cameras, oral (r), soft!dom!p, not-so-sub!r, fingering, hair pulling, cursing, your not really patient with p, video, big haired r, blood. | first time writing for her!! i’m still doing some research. sorry for any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language.

— ┊⋆ inspired by: paige walking around with that camera and not knowing how to use it … —

PAIGE LOOKED AT YOU with a smile while you tried to fit on her clothes. With her height, they were a little bigger than you and the shirt stopped in the middle of your thighs – no shorts for you. The ball was under your arm and your leg bent, looking at the camera with one of your eyes closed and your teeth out.

With her camera pointing at you, she moved side to side on the room, getting you from all the angles, all the lights. She knew that those pictures would come out perfectly and was already planning to post all of them, no exceptions. Paige guided you from times to times to switch your positions, in each corner and mobile that she wanted you to be. Pointing to her named written on the back of her shirt, sitting on the ball and with a whistle in your mouth. It was like the studio photoshoot that she did often … but with a hot looking photographer.

“Turn around and look at me over your shoulder.” She said, sitting in a chair to be at the same height as you were. You did as you were told, smiling and giving her your best intense look. Paige pressed the photo take button, the flash shining for the twentieth time in the last few hours. “Pull my shirt up, just a little bit.”

You brought the tissue up, letting it where your thigh meet your hip. Bringing your knee up again, leaning on your tip toes. She smiled for you and another one taken. “What’s next?”

Paige looked at you up and down, her head falling to the side. “On the mirror. I’ll be behind you.”

You both walked there and you bent down a little bit on the sink, not looking at the camera but your eyes. You copied one of your favorite photos of her, doing the same position and face as hers. She recognized what you were doing and laughed – this photo has been on your cellphone wallpaper for ages. A small piece of blonde hair and a part of the camera lens appeared in the picture, but it was more than perfect for her.

“More?” You asked, going to her side to see what she has already got and was surprised. She hummed at your question, turning the camera to the side so you could see the photos. Paige really had a great talent on making each one of them look so good.

The blonde looked at the curtains who were flying with the wind and back at you. Her eyes shone and you raised your eyebrows, waiting for what she would say: but she didn’t. All she did was take your arm and take you there. “Turn around.” She said.

You took your hair off to show her name again, doing what poses you thought it would be better. The flash shone, one, two, three, six times, before a ideia pop up on your mind … Still there, you discreetly pulled up the shirt bar, taking it out. Without a bra, your naked back and underwear was exposed for the camera. Paige’s breath caught on her throat when you turned to the side, the contour of your tits showing. She was quick on taking another pic, your smile growing.

Your nipples were hardening because of the cold air. With the camera on hand, your girlfriend was doing everything to take the perfect frame before straightening her back and look through them. “I want to take a picture with you facing me.”

You walked to the balcony and placed your hands there before doing, leaning your back against the iron bars and looking provocatively at the lens. Paige looked away from you for one second, down to the camera before placing it in front of her eyes. She murmured something about you being “fucking hot”, and focused on your tits. You made every position she (and you) thought it would be good, on the mirror again, on the kitchen pretending to cook something while posing. Not a room of your house was out.

That little playing photo section was having a lots of turnings, and in the middle, it had become a naked section. Lying on the ground, Paige copied you and adjusted her position to take your body. “I think it’ll be better without your underwear.”

“If I end up all over the internet i’ll murder you without remorse, Bueckers.”

She laughed, watching while you lay down on your back and rise up your hips, placing your thumbs on the withe fabric and pulling it out. You got back on your position, looking at her while letting your ass showing and nipple sneaking between your arms. She took the pic, licking her lips with the view and you felt proud burning on your body. You had Paige Bueckers, d1, on your hands.

She was making you her muse. You were sure she would hang one of those pictures somewhere in the bedroom. It remains to be seen if it was your naked ones or with her shirt. “Let’s make a video.” She said.

Getting up, you looked at her with your eyes nearly closed. “What type?”

Her eyes shone. “You decide. Those who I do for magazines, or our own.”

She was sitting now, the camera on her lap. You bit the inside of your lower lip, feeling taste of blood. Paige was waiting patiently while you decided, her finger playing with one of the buttons. You had made more than you did in your whole life in that few hours, she was the first one that you dared to be more bold with — even if you were having fun, it could be more risky … right? …

“Fuck me and film it.”

She raised her eyebrows and took your hand, pulling you closer. You took the camera off the way and sat where it was, wrapping your arms around her neck, blowing a little kiss on her lips. Paige put her hand in your hair, pulling and bringing you closer to her. Her tongue found yours, bending around yours in a domination dispute that you didn’t give up on easily.

You pulled her shirt up and she raised her arms, helping you take it off. She brought the camera closer to your face and you swallowed, nervously, trying to give your best smile. Paige took you to bed and lie down, you on top. She pushed you down by the hip, your pussy pressing against her stomach, and you started to move. A moan scape you, low.

With a not so confident confidence, you keept the moves and closed your eyes, your head falling to the front. Your hair fell from your shoulders and around your face, making a curtain with you, the camera and her. Your mouth flew open, the little sounds you made being captured, just like the noise of your pussy on her skin.

Paige lowered the camera, recording superficially without really showing anything, only your moves and the brightness of your juices that was left behind on her skin. Her own mouth was open, flatter with you, but hers didn’t make any sound but her quick breath. Your fingers caressed her belly, trying to have some comfort to get used to that moment, deciding to disconnect from everything and take advantage of the shocks that were being sent through your body.

“Paige.” You whispered. She raised her head, taking the camera with her and focusing on your face. You turned to the side, trying to hide, but she wasn’t having none of that. She made you turn again, holding your cheeks between her fingers so you would deep stare into the video.

You ride her until she thought that was enough, making you stand. Paige reversed the positions so that you were pressed on the mattress, your leg closing around her waist. She placed the camera on the mattress, you two now in the video. You were going to do your own porn … and that brought you butterflies to your stomach.

She lifted one of your legs, lying on top of you. Her mouth quickly found her favorite place in you: your mouth. The kiss was a mess of tongues and teeth, you two very hungry for the moment. When she pulled away, a thread of saliva kept you connected, only breaking when your head fell back after she put her finger on your nipple. Everything seemed to be too much, the feelings were too much. You were more sensitive than usual.

Paige’s mouth sucked where she was running her finger, her eyes focused on your face, watching your eyebrows frown with pleasure. Your hips went up, trying to go back for your rubbing, but she dismissed it, holding you with her hands on each side of your body. She was going to one nipple to the other, ravishing them with all of her attention, taking longer than you wanted. When she finally, finally, decided to keep going down, the cold air hit your hardened peaks, bringing a pleasurable squeeze when finding the saliva she left behind.

Her lips kissed up on your navel, passing by it and biting the end of your belly. She was close of your pussy and held your leg open, making your lips part and your clit be exposed for her eyes. Paige’s anxiety to prove you shone on her face and she took her mouth to the inside of your thigh, your scent closer to her nose. “You’re gonna kiss me the whole night?”

With your angry words, she stopped. “If I want, I will.”

Your hand went for where she didn’t seemed to want to touch so soon, the tip of your index tickling your folds. She hummed in protest, hitting you to make you stop. “Fucking do something.” You growled between your teeth.

Paige didn’t move for a while, leaving you there, in expectation. When you were starting to think that she wouldn’t do nothing, all of sudden, her tongue was licking all over. With your surprise, a loud moan scrapped your throat, your body getting up and your cunt sinking even more into her mouth. The blonde was still focus on you, seeing each pleasuring expression you’d make, biting your lip, your hair sticking on your forehead.

Seeing Paige Bueckers between your legs made you wetter every time.

Two fingers went up your ass, collecting your juices to use as a lubricant, then circling your entrance. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were big. Skinny, well trained fingers that, once inside, started to make wonders with you. Rubbing against your walls that squeezed her, telling her to stay in there and just move to give you pleasure. Paige was happy to follow, pulling the hood of your clit and caressing it, making you wet the sheets.

The first time you meet her, it was in one of her games. You didn't really know her, it was your first time watching a basketball match, but when you saw her so flawlessly placing the ball in the basket, you guessed she could do wonderful stuffs. A few days later your thoughts were proved right and, for what she had told you, hers too.

Since then, you both fucked for many times before any feelings were involved, ending up in a shared house and lots of more sex. She was perfect, and was even more when she curled her fingers inside you, like at that moment. Paige loved the sounds you made and always did everything to make them louder. You were happy to deliver what she wanted, reaching out for her and holding her head, her blonde locks soft against your skin.

You were red while she kept licking, sucking. You had never been wetter, being spreed all over her face, shining on her nose and chin, dripping back at your pussy. Your lungs were bending the effort trying to recover the air she was taking away. You took her wrist and squeezed her hand against your tit again: you both were stimulating it, giving you a bigger sensation.

“Don’t cum.” She said after she felt you start to move with her. That was a clear sign of what would come next. You complained, but you tried to contain yourself.

Your euphoria was mixing with the hot wind on the room that, even with the open windows, had taken you and her. Paige was sweating, you could see a line following down her back muscles. They were waving while she moved, eating you with a crazy hunger. You couldn’t know if you focus there or in other places, but your body decided for you when your eyelids closed involuntarily. The ability she had on the court was pale compared to what she did there.

Her tongue was shaking your clit, her lips closing and sucking just enough for you to gasp. At the same time, she speed up her hands moves, beating deep inside you. Your noise was loud and your smell was all over. Knowing her, you were sure Paige was more than happy to have you like that, doing everything and more to keep you on the edge.

You tried to do what she asked as longer as you could, but you hold on was impossible. Your walls tightened, her fingertips bending on your g-spot and making you see stars. Your hot cum flowed slowly down your pulsing walls, running down her fingers that were still moving.

Even unhappy that you hadn’t followed what she said, she helped you get down, caressing your clit and slowing gently inside you. After the post-orgastic fog came out of your mind, she got up and picked up the camera. Paige pointed it for your relaxed face and you smiled. “You’re looking beautiful.”

You stretched your arms over your head, prancing your breasts. Paige went down to them and back to you. “Is not fair that I’m the only actress, right?”

“No.” She jokes, smiling. You rolled your eyes and made her lie down, getting up on her body. You licked her neck and continued all over her glorious body, doing the same thing she did to you — the only difference being that she was much more patient than you were.

This time, the camera was filming everything from up close and from her angle; you being the one between her legs, her moans being the ones in the video.

[risuola]

ENTRY #3 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // In the oceans so full, all I crave is blue.

contents: arranged marriage!au, slight misogyny — wc. 938

a/n: you voted, I deliver - an entry that might seem slightly out of place, slightly not relevant but it's important to the story, it shows the slow development.

series masterlist

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You sat on an armchair, somewhat tensed despite the comfort of your own home and the soft cushions below you. In front of you sat a man. An arrogant grin plastered onto his objectively handsome features that somehow made you cringe at the sight. His mouth moved, he was speaking, over and over again telling the same story from a different angle and throwing facts at you that didn’t quite make sense, no matter how many times they were replayed.

“It’s an offer,” he spoke again, his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the sharp sunlight that bounced off the glass in the frame containing your wedding picture. “There’s a prestige tied to it, a status much more influential than your current last name could ever provide. I understand Gojo Satoru’s high position in the world of sorcery, but realistically, it doesn’t benefit you the way it should.”

He was talking, confident and loud but you couldn’t help but find him slightly sociopathic. Severely narcissistic. His sharp brown eyes were piercing through you and you could tell that every spasm of his muscles was forced, creating a fake illusion of some twisted version of kindness and gentleness. He moved in a way to appear more approachable, more inviting. You were taking in his form, clad in traditional kimono and hakama bottoms, oddly contrasting with his bleached hair and pierced ears. Thing is, there was nothing inviting about him.

“My marriage is an arrangement made with the thought of the best interest for both mine and my husband’s clan.” Your words flew out of your mouth a little too rough and yet, it was the first time you put a heavy accent onto the word that described who Satoru was to you right now.

“Of course it was,” the man chuckled. Evil. “But you see, Satoru Gojo is an anomaly born for the first time in four hundred years. Probability of you bearing a child that would bring value to his, arguably extinct, clan is relatively low, if not zero. On the other hand, my technique is easily passed down in blood and strong as it is, even without considering the possible Ten Shadows awakening though I believe that the input of your cursed technique makes the chances that much higher.”

“Forgive me my bluntness, Zen’in, but my marriage is finalized and I don’t intend to–“

“You don’t understand, woman,” he snapped, harsh and rough and raised up to his feet a little too eagerly. Realizing that, he took a breath and walked towards the wooden dresser. His greedy hands snatched the picture framed in the constellation of intricate veins and leaves carved into the dark oak and his fingers run across the glass front. “There’s nothing better you can do, than marrying me, one and only rightful heir of the Zen’in clan. Me, Naoya Zen’in, a man above all those weaklings around. I’m a prodigy, a genius. I’m the stronges–“

“I dare to disagree,” you cut the reckless spurt of nonsense leaving his lips. “I do recognize your strength and the values you represent, but as I already told you. My marriage is finalized, I’m married to Satoru Gojo and, with all due respect, you’re not close to being the strongest.” You stood your ground, firmly and with confidence and as you approached the man, you gently took the picture from his hands. “And also, even if I were not tied to Satoru, I wouldn’t allow myself to ever cross paths with a buffoon such as you, Naoya.”

“Clearly, you don’t know your place, do you?” He groaned, lowly and animalistically and it was a split second before his long fingers dug into the fat of your cheeks as he grabbed you by the face. “You know where’s a place of a woman? Three steps behind her husband. On her knees, ready to serve. There’s no other purpose for you than to–“

“I’ll advise you to take your hands off my wife, Zen’in.” Another second and your husband was home, right next to you, appearing out of thin air. His large hand wrapped tightly around Naoya’s forearm and their eyes meeting in a challenge. Despite the ice-cold tension in the air, Gojo’s face was neutral, amused almost. The corner of his lips twitched, lifting up just slightly as his unwavering gaze slowly pierced a crack into the arrogant mask of the guest.

“We’re just talking,” he hissed through his teeth but allowed his fingers to relax, releasing your jaw.

“Actually, it seemed as if you were leaving already,” you added calmly and it didn’t take longer than two minutes until the doors closed and the blonde left, mumbling insults under his breath. You exhaled, deeply, allowing the tension to leave your body as you twisted the locks and it’s just at that moment when you realized how much relief and sense of safety your husband brought.

“Care to explain why was Naoya Zen’in in our house when I was out? I don’t remember that visit being scheduled.” Satoru questioned and you let out a sigh, approaching him. With gentle hands you reached up to where the blindfold hung loosely around his neck and carefully pulled it up to cover the blue of his eyes.

“I’d love to know more than you do, but I don’t,” you replied. “He came uninvited, offered me marriage and didn’t take rejection too well.”

“Offered you marriage?” He scoffed. “The audacity.”

“Doesn’t matter. I said no and he left. Thank you for showing up.”

“I’m fulfilling my duties. That’s all.”

“Of course, you are.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost

[cherryblossombankai]

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You and Toshinori are matched on a site for "companionship" that touts being able to choose the perfect sugar baby for the client.

Warnings: virginity loss, premature ejaculation, oral sex, creampie, obsession, sex work, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics

A/N: Made for a little fic swap between myself and @actuallysaiyan! I hope you love it!

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet,

Toshinori has never had time for romance. For so long he stayed so busy with hero work he didn’t even notice the empty spot in his life. How can you notice that you don’t have anyone to hold at night when you don’t bother going home until your body is nearly useless from exhaustion? You can’t notice how nobody celebrates your birthday with you if you spend all day working instead. He doesn’t notice it until the empty spot has become a great black hole, and then he spends night after night tossing and turning in bed with empty arms. 

He knows it's his fault. He never made room in his life for anything else besides fighting villains and being a symbol of peace. It feels like the time for flowers and romance has passed him by. Even if he wanted to try to find someone, who would want him: a broken-down hero who has never even been intimate with anyone aside from one late-night makeout session with Dave that took place (what feels like) a lifetime ago? 

The first time he saw the ad, he was watching porn. His cock was in his hand, ready for action. Instead of focusing on the pretty girl sucking a cock, his eyes instantly find an elegantly designed ad that looks quite out of place among the lewd positions that accompanied the rest. 

‘Are you lonely?’ the ad says in its pristine script. Then a smaller font says, ‘We can match you with the perfect companion?’

“Of course I’m lonely,” he rolls his eyes and tries to just ignore the ad. He watches the pretty girl on her knees, trying to imagine he’s the one grabbing her hair and thrusting into her mouth. 

As soon as he cums, thick strings that cover his fist, he thinks about that damn ad again. He tosses his phone to the side and goes to clean himself up. However, when he picks the phone up again the ad is still there. This time he can’t help letting curiosity get the better of him. He clicks the ad and is taken to a surprisingly well-designed website. The information he scrolls through explains that the company would require him to take a few different types of personality quizzes and evaluations all to match him with his ‘perfect companion’. 

The fine print, of course, is that his perfect companion will only accompany him for a fee, a percentage of which goes to the matchmaker. That’s the part that causes him to click off the ad and try to put it completely out of his mind. It would be an absolute scandal if it was ever found out that All Might had paid someone for companionship, and maybe even more if— 

No. He can’t let himself picture it. 

Over the next few days, he tries quite valiantly to forget about the whole idea. Still, he can’t completely put it out of his mind no matter how hard he tries. It would solve many problems for him if he was brave enough to go through with it. He wouldn’t have to worry about going through the whole dating ordeal to find someone, the company would take care of that. 

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he tries over and over to dissuade himself.

A week passed before he signed up. He did it so fast that he didn’t even have time to stop himself. There was no time to second guess. He needed someone badly, and this was the one time he would throw some money at a problem in hopes of fixing it. 

It took a couple more days for the company to respond. It came as an email with the attached profiles of three potential partners for him that he could choose from. There was a file that highlighted the complementary qualities as well as points of interest for Toshinori to keep in mind. 

The moment he saw your photos, he felt his heart race with excitement. You are beyond pretty— you’re a goddess as far as he’s concerned. You included some racy boudoir shots in your photo album, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in response. He imagined himself in that dim lighting with you, slowly peeling off that nearly sheer robe to reveal the lace bustier underneath. 

He chooses you without even looking at the third profile. 

***

Your first meeting with Toshinori has to go perfectly. Although you’re nervous as can be, you want this to go well. As soon as the two of you started texting, you felt a connection. He was genuine and easy to talk to. You had a lot in common, including a love for indie movies. However, what sticks out to you the most is how kind he is. Most men would’ve already been asking for nudes or videos, but Toshinori hasn’t even initiated a sexting session. The few times he sent you anything flirty, you were sure it was an accident. He’s gentle, and you like that about him. 

When you walk into the coffee shop for the first time, he’s stunned by the sight of you. For a moment you linger by the door, pretty eyes carefully scanning the room for him. He watches the sweet smile rise to your lips, you’re so excited you even bounce a little bit before coming to the table. He stands up and pulls your chair out for you. 

“I’m glad you made it,” he says shyly, he can barely even look at you right now. If he thought you were a goddess just from the photos, he’s convinced of it now that he’s seen you in person. The photos didn’t do you justice. 

Instead of taking a seat right away, you hug him first. You give him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down, “Me too! I’ve been so excited to meet you!” 

Years of hero work have made Toshinori aware of when people are lying to him, and he’s shocked to find that you’re genuine in the sentiment. He wonders if you also feel as overwhelmingly nervous as he does. 

“It’s a good thing we’re both here, then,” he chuckles softly as he takes a seat across from you. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” 

He spends a few moments just staring at you longingly. He can’t believe how beautiful you are, and that such a beautiful girl is so happy to be with him. 

“I’m gonna go order some coffee,” you say sweetly, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Wait, allow me!” he says as he stands up. “I’ll get it.” 

“Oh, okay!” you tell him your order, and he makes his way up to the front. 

You feel so happy right now. He’s just as adorable and kind as you expected him to be. You can’t wait to see how things go with him. Maybe this time, you finally found a man who wants to take care of you and who will still treat you kindly. The first sugar daddy you found was rude and cruel to you. Toshinori seems different. You almost feel like you’d be happy to be with him even without the prospect of money, but unfortunately, tuition and rent won’t pay themselves. Still, there’s no law saying you can’t have true feelings for him. 

When he returns, he sets your coffee down in front of you. To your surprise, he also sets down a small white box with an assortment of pastries inside. 

“I thought we might like snacks while we talk,” he says bashfully. 

“That’s lovely, Toshinori! Thank you,” you smile at him. 

He feels his cheeks burning at your praise. He’s really done it, he’s made you happy. For the briefest of moments all is right in the world. 

*** 

Pleasing you becomes his favorite pastime. Whether he’s taking you out shopping or he has your legs spread while he eagerly eats you out, there’s nothing he loves more than taking care of you. He becomes obsessed with you in his own way. He leases you an apartment close to his, and that only lasts a few months before he’s asking you to move in with him. You drop the company altogether when he makes a fuss about you having to give a percentage of your ‘allowance’ to them. 

“I want it all to go to you, babygirl,” he had said on the night he brought up the idea. Secretly, he also wanted to make sure he kept you. 

It’s a dream come true for you. The live-in sugar baby to a man who adores you with his whole being and treats you like you walk on water is not a bad gig. Except you feel guilty at times. He gives you so much, and yet he never really asks for anything in return. You’ve offered him things, but he’s so shy he can’t imagine going through with anything. He’s never even mentioned sex. 

You have to take matters into your own hands. 

One night after dinner, you guide him to the bedroom. You have him sit on the bed and wait for you. 

“I have a little surprise, daddy,” you explain with a playful wink before disappearing into the large, walk-in closet. 

Once you close the door, you begin changing into a silk and lace nightgown. When you emerge again, Toshinori’s eyes widen. 

“Oh…y-you look beautiful!” he says as he stands up to come to you. His hands are gentle on your hips. 

“You like it, daddy?” 

“I love it,” he leans down to kiss you. “You look like an angel.” 

When he starts guiding you towards the bed, you know what he wants to do. However, you don’t want him spoiling you tonight. You want to take care of him, this time completely. 

“Don’t, baby,” you kiss him again, then lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’re holding his gaze as you reach for his belt. “Let me take care of you, daddy. Please?” 

“Babygirl, I don’t want to…Disappoint you.” 

“Why would I be disappointed? I love everything about you, Toshinori. Absolutely everything.” 

His cheeks turn pink as he looks down at you. He runs his fingers through your hair gently. “Alright, alright. Show me what you can do, sweetheart.” 

You’d intended to do just that. You wanted to rock his world, to show him all the things he seems to have missed out on. There were quite a few tricks up your sleeve you wanted to pull out, but you didn’t get the chance. When your hand wraps around his throbbing cock it only takes a trio of gentle strokes before thick strings of cum are covering your face. 

“Oh!” you pull away just from the surprise of it. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Toshinori’s big cock is still halfhard as he tries to force it back into his boxers. He had expected to be able to last longer, after all he jerks off regularly, but there was something different about having you touch him that made him lose control. He begins gently wiping the cum off your face with his shirt. 

“It’s okay, it happens,” you say half-heartedly. 

“No, fuck, no it doesn’t,” he sighs. He sits back down on the bed, his face in his hands to avoid looking at you. 

“Baby, it’s okay,” you assure him again. You sit between his knees, massaging his thighs gently. “Look at me, Toshinori,” you coax his hands from his face. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he caresses your cheek. “You know I don’t expect you to lie to me just because you think its what I want to hear.” 

“I’m not lying, daddy,” you kiss his hands gently. His half-hard cock stiffens a little more in response. You suck on his fingers. Then you reach out to free him from his pants again. You kiss and suck on the tip of his cock gently, and he stiffens fully in your hand. “Perfect, daddy. That’s good.” 

“Fuck, baby…” he shakes his head, surprised but also pleased by your tenacity. 

You manage to take him deep down your throat. He is trembling as he tries to hold himself back from cumming again. The pleasure is unlike anything he’s ever known before. His hands tangle in your hair, ready to pull you off of him in an instant if he thinks he’s gonna make an ass of himself again. 

You pull off his cock gently, giving it one more kiss before looking up at him. You stand up and strip off your nightgown, leaving it in a wilting pile at your feet. His eyes are drinking in every inch of your body. He reaches out to touch you, starting at your waist and moving down the curve of your hips. 

“I want you inside of me, Toshinori. I’ve wanted it for a long time,” you whisper softly as you carefully settle on his lap, straddling him. You caress his cheeks gently and run your fingers through his hair. 

“Baby, are you sure?” he kneads gently as your waist, just underneath your tits. He never wants to make you feel like you owe him anything. He wants you to do this because you want him as much as he’s craved you. 

“I’m more than sure,” you kiss him softly, then a little deeper. 

His tongue is soft and warm against yours. You reach down to guide his cock to your entrance. He feels like a teenage boy, shaking with excitement. His head lulls against your shoulder as you sink down his length, letting out a soft moan as your pussy stretches around his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re huge,” you pant softly. 

He grunts, “Don’t say things like that.” 

“Why not?” you giggle softly. You kiss him deeply and continue rocking your hips. 

You don’t quite get to pick up a good pace before you feel him tense up. His fingers dig into your hips as he floods your pussy with his cum. You slow to a stop. He rolls you onto your back, and begins thrusting sloppily. 

“I can keep going,” he growls softly. 

He buries his face against the curve of your neck as he fucks you. He’s sloppy, but oh so eager. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands are tangled in his hair. Every so often you give it a firm tug just to make him growl against your neck. With every thrust, his cock hits your sweet spot. 

It’s perfect. Everything you had imagined in the last few months failed to live up to the reality of the man you adore making love to you. He reaches down to rub your clit to pull out even more pleasure from you. When you reach your climax, he treasures the way his name sounds being cried from your lips with so much adoration. It means everything to him. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants, punctuating every cry with another thrust. He cums inside of you one final time, clinging to you like you could disappear if he loosened his grip. 

When you both come down from your orgasms, he pulls out of you gently. He lays beside you, pulling you to his chest and playing with your hair. 

“You were worth the wait,” you giggle softly. 

“I’m glad, baby.” 

He kisses your forehead gently, then he peels himself away from you. He pulls his pants back up, then goes to the bathroom. A few moments later, you hear the water running for a bath. Toshinori prepares to continue spoiling you. 

[ventismacchiato]

13 behind the lens — caught in 4k !

scaramouche x g!n reader

“More like this,” Kuni mumbles, leaning forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he goes back to kneeling down on the ground and taking a photograph of you.

He’d picked you up from class and led you to a park, laying petals in your hair and arranging your limbs into different positions all afternoon. It was a little exhausting but the feeling of content you felt everytime he showed you the screen of his camera was worth it.

You couldn’t believe anyone saw you like that. He had a tender look fleet through his eyes that made your heart feel heavy. It was bittersweet.

“I think I’m good, I’ll send these to you,” Kuni muses, letting his camera dangle off his neck as he makes his way back towards you, plucking a petal out of your hair.

“You sure took a lot…did we need to for the assignment?” you ask, dodging as he tried to chuck a flower at your face.

“No, I just wanted extra photos of you,” he shrugs, picking up your school bag from the ground and draping it across his shoulder as he started to walk off.

“Hey! You owe me some photos then too,” you call out, catching up beside him.

“Didn’t know you were so dirty-minded,” he chuckles.

“Not those kinds of photos!”

“I never knew you were into plushies?”

“I’m really not, by you are so I thought I’d get you one. Or however many of these weird fucks you want.”

You hide your grin as you pick up a teddy bear off the shelf, hiding your face behind it.

“I knew you’d like it,” he says, following you to a booth. He picked one with three seats and takes the teddy bear from you, setting it down on the free seat.

“What’s not to like about a couples cafe filled to the brim with plushies?” you marvel, picking up the menu.

Neither of you have had the official couple talk, but it was assumed you both were a pair. You weren’t ready to make it official just yet, just like you weren’t ready to tell him your identity.

“Uhm, excuse me! Sorry to bother but are you Scaramouche?”

You both look up from your menus at a girl around your age, carrying a takeout bag with one hand and the other palm clutching her mouth in shock.

Scaramouche raises a brow and looks taken aback for a mere moment before composing himself, “That would be me, are you a fan?”

“The biggest! It’s so nice to meet you I can’t believe this is happening!” she gushes, a grin on her face as she waves around her phone, “Can I get a picture with you?”

“���sure,” he says, sending you an apologetic look as the girl turns to you, taking in your appearance for a quick second with a judgmental stare before handing you her phone, “Can you please take a photo of us?”

“Sure,” you slowly say, trying to mask your voice and taking the phone from her and snapping a few photos of the two of them. You and Kuni hadn’t even taken a photo together yet.

“Thank you uh…Scara’s friend,” she smiles, shooting a wink to Scara and skipping off.

“Sorry about that,” Kuni immediately apologizes after the girl leaves, “Shit like that has been happening since my face reveal.”

“It’s fine,” you assure, eyes scanning the menu, gnawing your lip unconsciously.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” you huff, before setting the menu down, “We don't have any photos together!”

Kuni stifles his snicker, “Is that it? If you wanted a fucking photo you didn’t have to ask.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Just get over here we’ll use my camera.”

“Can the bear be in it?”

“For fucks sake fine.”

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

what’s ur guys’ boba orders? i like mango slush w strawberry boba and i gave scara black sesame cus it isn’t very sweet and it matches his aesthetic

the picture that’s supposed to be you doesn’t depict body size, gender, or ethnicity, just the pose and place!

end of act one 🎬

author’s notes — so i moved to college dorms and i have nothing to do until classes start so i’m writing this to help alleviate my anxiety 😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @i9tto @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko [1/3]

[ajdahak]

♡ Character : Neteyam x reader

♡ Request : Could you write about neteyam dating a human s/o? How he adores her human features, especially the height difference. Same goes with the reader, she fascinates his little ears and idk but maybe how his tail wags around like a dog when he sees her ABSIDGJASD THAT SOUNDED WEIRD BUT BASICALLY ALL I WANT IS FLUFF 😭😭 Hopefully that makes sense 😅 @justcallmesky

♡ Genre : Fluff

♡ A/N : Heeyyy, sorry again if I take time to write, I try to do my best and be completely satisfied with my work before posting but it’s always difficult, I hope you like what I wrote. English is not the language I speak be indulgent please 🫶🏻

“Can…can I touch your face ?”

The sudden and hesitant request of Neteyam made you look up in his direction.

“You want…to touch my face ?”

You where looking at him with wide eyes, your finger pointing to yourself and mouth slowly agape. Feeling your eyes on him, Neteyam lowered his head, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was.

To be honest, you were rather surprised by his request. He had never asked you to touch your face, it was a simple request and yet you couldn't do anything about the fact that you were embarrassed. Apparently, he took your silence for a negative answer.

“I understand that you don’t want to. I just…Well…it’s been a while since we’ve been together and…I wondered…” He whispered so quietly, making you forgot for an instant about your insecurities. How could you say no to him?

You got up, crossing the room where there was air that you could breathe, you positioned yourself in front of the boy you loved. A smile appeared on his face.

“Of course you can. But why this request ?”

The eldest of the Sully family suddenly seemed embarrassed by this question, fleeing your gaze.

“It’s that..”

Slowly, his hand came into contact with your (h/c) hair, placing a lock at the back of your little ear. You didn’t let go of his eyes.

“Your eyes on me makes me nervous.”

“Oh, sorry! I-”

“No, don’t look away, that’s not what I meant. I like it when you look at me... I find your eyes beautiful.”

For him, your eyes contained in them a galaxy, your tears seemed to be pearled with stars, in any case, even if they seem beautiful in his thoughts, Neteyam will never let them flow.

You blush slightly at this remark, making the boy smile. This did not prevent you from speaking.

“Do you know what I like about you Nete ?” You asked, receiving only an eyebrow raise from him “What looks like freckles on your face.”

You pointed to the white dotted lines that used to light up in the dark.

“I find it beautiful, it’s like I was watching a starry night, but on a face” you laughed at the end of the sentence.

He smiled at your sweet laugh, looking at you with adoration. Your voice resounded like a sweet poem that would be told to children, surely this one in particular who cast a spell of love on him when you met him.

“Your ears are also very cute, it looks like a cat, but your tail reminds me of a dog” especially when you move it when you are happy, you thought for yourself.

“I have... no idea what it looks like.”

“Buuuttt.. I showed you pictures last time !”

Neteyam seemed embarrassed, not remembering it anymore.

“Ahh it’s okay, I’ll show you back another day.”

You put your hands on his cheeks that you loved so much, forcing him a little to lean forward so that you could see him better. When you directly threatened his personal space, the tip of his nose and ears began to heat up without permission, as if he were immersed in a cloud dream, softened by your delicacy. To have even more physical contact, the boy had to hold your hands with his own, caressing the top with his thumb, notifying how pleasant the fabric of your skin was.

“So, why did you want to touch my face ?” You asked again.

“I just wanted to feel the face of the women I love…” he replied, earning a smile from you.

“And do you like it ?”

You asked, surprising him.

“Of course ! Your face is as kind as your heart…” he said sincerely.

Seeing you smile with a radiance that even the sun would wear glasses, the Na’vi smiled in turn, so much his happiness could be felt that one could believe that his teeth emitted light. He let you get closer to his face, everything was going so fast that he did not hit the moment, and here he is with a kiss on the nose of the girl he loves.

“Do you know what I prefer most about you (y/n) ?”

You shook your head negatively, confused. He moistened his lips, and then observed yours. His fingers slipped to your chin, as if they were trying to find their way on your face, which was an enigma on its own. A small gesture of hesitation was understood on his head, then, a gentle pressure from his hand brought your two faces closer, attracting them dangerously.

The contact of your lips was soft, similar to that of the look that could be worn on the moon. With the joints joined, the kiss was no longer than the duration of the shooting star, and like the shooting stars, it offered him an incredible feeling of luck.

“Everything in you seems straight out of a dream. Nga yawne lu oer.”

[munsonology]

Sweet Plains

A Cowboy!Eddie short story

18+ only, MINORS DNI

CW: Fem!reader, f receiving oral, wind fucking, come tasting, little bit of daddy kink👀 not proof read

Summary: Eddie and Girlie are in the warm fields of the ranch doing morning chores when a different kind of heat creeps upon them.

My first contribution for @oneforthemunny’s summertime writing game.

Posting with 45 minutes left of my birthday!

I’m gonna count this as my first official fic I’ve ever posted on here! Enjoy whores!

Girlie laying in the ranch fields waiting for Eddie to finish morning chores. It’s humid, the air thick and warm like a sweater on a cold December night.

She found the dress in the trunk at the foot of their bed. Bought for wedding and nonrefundable, despite the bride running away on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle.

Eddie paused shoveling the pile of hay to take a gander at you. Your legs up in the air, those sweet thighs tempting him. He was just between them not even a few hours ago. The taste of your folds still fresh on his tongue.

“What’cha doing over there, girlie?” He asks.

You peer around your legs to see Eddie standing there with a hand on his hip. His heavy boot resting on the pitchfork. The buttons on his shirt had long come undone. From the distance you could see the black ink on his chest.

“Just waiting on you to finish, honey.”

“Mmm…Is that right?”

You mumble in agreement. A sigh leaves your mouth feeling a light breeze pass through. The cool wind caressed your skin. Your legs fell open, wide as the open pasture. Bare cunt exposed, you laid back with your arms behind your head.

The crotch of Eddie’s wranglers tightened. He loved seeing you so free, so relaxed. You were a completely different person outside of the city. Monday through Friday you ventured to the concrete jungle for work, battling your way to the cracking the glass ceiling, but out here…out here at the ranch you could just be. No pressure to be anything but yourself.

Eddie squinted his eyes to get a better view of your current position. Skirt of your tulle dress to your waist, legs spread wide, hips moving to a beat all their own.

Eddie took long strides over to stand in front of you. “Well that’s a picture I never seen before.”

You opened an eye to him crouched beside you now. “When the breeze hits just right…it feels so good Ed,” you moan.

He removes the glove on his hand with his teeth. You feel the coarse pads of his fingers spread your cunt open. His index finger rubs with your clit in slow circles.

“Is that so? Mind if I help you out a bit?”

“Do what you must, cowboy,” you sigh.

Eddie takes the hat off his head and covers your face with it. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle come undone. He wraps the belt around your wrists, fusing them together in the thick leather.

“You still with me me, baby?”

“Never left.”

The sound of him hocking a loogie into his hand sends tingles down to your cunt. She’s the greediest bitch you know.

Eddie’s spit feels warm on your folds. Trickling and wrapping around your clit, his two fingers rub you out. Your pubes tickle the skin on his arm as it grazes against you.

“D’ya like that girlie?” He whispers.

“S’good Eddie.”

He pushes three fingers inside you. He curls them slowly, right against your gspot.

“Fuck!”

“Is that what she needed, baby?”

“C’mon Eddie. Please—I can’t hold it. Can I come?”

“‘can I come?’” He mocks you.

At that moment you feel pull away from you. You whine loudly.

“You sound just like Shadow when I don’t give her an extra sugar cube,” he laughs.

“Don’t leave me hanging cowboy!” You plead.

“Don’t worry girlie, I’d never leave her without a special treat.”

You sense his body between your legs, spreading them further apart. His breath is right on your cunt. “I got her medicine right here.”

He takes a long swipe with his tongue up your folds. Your thighs clench around his head. Eddie’s ears and neck grow warm at the embrace. There’s nowhere he’d rather be more, not even on the back of a raging bull.

He kisses your clit then goes in, taking the little button between his lips. He sucks you down like the thickest milkshake.

“Jesus Christ almighty!” You squeal.

Eddie’s fingers slip right into your wet pussy. Four fingers fit easily. Your arms come up around to make a grab for his hair. With your wrists still tied, you grip what you can, pulling hard and tight with every move he makes. Eddie’s fingers bully your gspot relentlessly.

Slick oozes out of you, dripping down Eddie’s chin. “You gon’ come when I tell you to girlie?”

“Yes! I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Whatever I want, huh? Whatever Daddy says goes?”

“Yes Daddy!”

“Well c’mon then. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Mmmm, thank you—Fuck—Eddie!��

“That’s it baby,” he moans.

Eddie takes the hat off your face and slides it under you. The fabric of the hat brush against the sensitive skin under your ass.

With a wave of pleasure overtaking you, you come hard, spraying Eddie with your squirt. He angles the crown of his hat to capture your essence. Eddie’s shirt and the grass beneath you is soaked. He continues to work you, fingers pumping ferociously to milk you.

“That’s it, baby. Love when you water the grass,” he says with a smile.

He lifts the hat, tipping the brim to his lips. You watch him drink your come down, a small trickle dripping down his chin. Eddie wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

He leans over you to undo the buckle on the belt. He soothes your wrists, kissing them gently before kissing your lips. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss.

“Sweetest morning dew I ever tasted baby,” he says against your pout.

“Are you ready for seconds?”

[bks-writing-adventures]

The Fish (Aemond Targaryen X OC, Sapphires and Carnelian Part Two.)

Read part one here!

https://www.tumblr.com/bks-writing-adventures/754389761267056640/sapphires-and-carneliansource=share

I also have this on Wattpad where I update almost every day, and you can find edits of the story on my tiktok: bk.calliope.

As the raven left with the letter, he found himself watching it until it was merely a black dot in the sky. He cursed beneath his breath. Could the raven not fly faster? It was like the creature didn’t even want to deliver the letter. As the bird dissolved into the clouds, his focus went back to the miniature in his hand. The more he looked at it, the more he could see beauty in her face. She did not have the sharp, neat look of ladies at the court, but something more charming, a bit more wild. And different was nice. He was different, so it would only make sense that his future wife be so, too.

Unless, of course, he was too late and the girl was already married. It had been several years afterall. And she was only five and ten in this photo, awkward with the touches of puberty and the expectations of society. He took a deep breath, and eventually, placed the picture down on his bedside table, scolding himself as he saw the marks his touch had left. The corners were crinkled from the weight of his sweating thumbs, and his cheeks got rosy as he blew on the parchment in hopes of evening it out. He couldn’t believe his own behavior, it was humiliating. 

He knew it would probably be days before they received any letter, if they received one at all, and so he found himself going to the training yard. He looked over all the options for swords, and every single one of them seemed dull. The sun was doing the aged metal no favors, and they were far from luxurious. Where had royalty gone wrong? He had seen depictions of old gowns and garments, ones that were divine and godly. Sleeves used to puff, and head pieces were worn like treasure. It was like they were moving backwards. All of that wealth going to the garbage. When he got a wife, and surely he would, she would never look plain. He would cover her in the best of gowns, have her hair braided with flowers and gems. She would be a true Princess. 

“My Prince, looking for a challenge, are you?” Ser Criston chuckled. Aemond looked back at him, a ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“If I was looking for a challenge, I would not be looking for you.” He responds. He had beaten Ser Criston time and time again, and sometimes he wondered what life would be if they were not just practicing. Perhaps, if he could, he would take Criston’s head clean off. He didn’t care much for the man, no matter how much he pretended. He was a man with no honor. One with loyalty to no one. He was no great knight, and he did not deserve his title, nor his cloak. He had broken his oaths time and time again, and it would not be long before someone suffered from his negligence. Constantly leaving his post to sleep with the Queen in the midst of the knight, rinsing his mouth of the taste of women. On his knees in the Sept, as though that washed away the lasting effects of his actions. That man could crush the whole realm to pieces, the way he crushed women like sand beneath his feet. 

“Oh, is that so?” Ser Criston smiled, grabbing a sword. “Then we should ensure that you do not get rusty, like all those cocky knights before you,” He spoke, and the two men took their positions. “I am not like the men who came before me,” and for better or worse, the words were true. At least he was exactly who he claimed to be. He was not a bastard, and he was no hypocrite. And he would never be like his father, who married a child. And he would not be like his uncle, who whined and cried and created drama left and right. He would not be like his brother, who made every person miserable every time he opened his mouth.

He was not sure who he would be, only that he would not be them. Perhaps he could be a good husband, a good father. And he could pray to the gods to make him King. If only Aegon was not alive. He fought harder against Criston’s weapons as the thoughts swam around his brain. How easy it would be to find Aegon in his delusions, wrapped in women at the brothel. It would not be so difficult to slip milk of poppy into his wine. Just enough so that he would not wake up. How easy life could be, then. 

But then of course, there was Rhaenyra, who his father loved more than anyone. But even that love was not pure. There was something dark inside his words. Something ingenuine, because the only thing a King can ever love, of course, was his crown. The thing must be cursed, for every time it touched the head of man, he became insufferable. Sitting on the iron throne filled the blood with ignorance. Maybe that is why the realm was spinning further and further into poverty and misery. With a final blow to Criston’s sword, the metal split in two, and the Knight smiled. “With those skills, you should be ready for a Tourney.” He said proudly, and Aemond tried to ignore how much it touched his heart. Hearing someone be proud of him, it was the finest luxury he had ever known. That validation that made his soul come alive.

 “I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” He said, taking a deep breath as he went to return his sword to the barrel. His wrist ached ever so slightly, and boredly, he cracked his knuckles. 

“Perhaps you should. That is the easiest way for a fine man to catch the attentions of a fair lady,” Criston responded as he slid his sword back to his holder. With a smirk, Aemond looked back at him. 

“Is that what happened to you?” He asked, making the knight go quiet. 

“I am only saying that it is worth a try. If you wait any longer to marry, you were no longer be in your prime.” As if he knew anything about marriage. Aemond rolled his eyes, shaking his head with an empty laugh as he approached the gardens.

 “If this is my prime, it will be a miserable life to live. I am not even twenty.” He responded. And besides, it was not like a mans seed could ever die. “And besides, I am already taking steps, for your information. And perhaps it would do you best to care about your own relationships. I am sure my mother would appreciate it.” He spoke, walking alone to the gardens. His book rested heavy in his cloak, and he walked until he found his favorite tree, a large willow older than himself. A robins nest sat in the depths of the branches, and as he sat to read, a ladybug ran across his book. His instinct was to smack it away from the parchment, but he held his breath. Helaena was always going on and on about the value of life, in things big and small. And guilt ate away at his belly, until he eventually took the bug on his fingertip and gave it a gentle blow of his breath, sending the small insect flying calmly to another tree. His head leaned against the bark as he propped himself up, his book in his lap. A History of Dragons. He had read it twice before, but what was the harm in reading it again? Besides, it was good to keep his knowledge fresh. And it was not as though a new book was going to come any time soon. 

That was his only problem with the library. It was all too limited. The histories of Westeros, the Science of Dragons, the Philosophy of The Seven. All fine literature, but all old. All things said before, time and time again for centuries on end. The newest book was still thirty years old, at least, and there was not a single novel about romance or magic. No fiction, no escaping the present. It was exhausting. And so, he decided, that tonight would be the perfect time to take himself to the city, to the small bookstores and presses until he found something that would interest him. The evening meal was nothing special. Rosemary potatoes and pulled pork. It was good, but it was all the same as any other day. “Did you embroider a lot today, Helaena?” His mother asked, but her daughter was far more fascinated with the grooves in the table, looking at them over and over. 

“I am excited,” She said quietly, and Alicent’s brows raised. That was a rare thing for Helaena, any form of happiness.

 “You are? What for?” She asked quietly, and Aemond looked at her, too. 

“For the fish.” She said quietly, a smile forming on her face. Alicent blinked, brows furrowed. As she was about to speak, Aegon opened his mouth. 

“This isn’t fish, it’s pork. It’s pig,” He said, laughing as he shook his head and filled his mouth with wine. It was a miracle that his lips weren’t permanently stained with purple. Helaena hummed, her eyes wandering quietly. Alicent shifted uncomfortably in her chair, looking at all of her children with her big brown eyes.

 “The weather was nice today. Did you get out to the gardens, Aemond?” She asked, and he nodded silently. Trying to create conversation at the table was like trying to turn water into wine. 

“Yes. I read a great deal of pages.” He mumbles. Silence again. The sound of forks against plates echoed off the walls, and Aemond was itching to leave. It was a miracle when the dinner hour was finally done, and he went to his chambers in a hurried manner. Looking under his bed, he carefully picked out his sack of coins, looking at them under the light. Books were a luxury, especially amongst the common folk. But he was good at bargaining. It was quite the thrill. Taking two coppers and a single golden dragon, he grabbed his cloak and went to his washroom, making sure to pin all of his hair away from his face.

If the merchants caught glimpse of the silver wisps, he would be overcharged, he was sure. He was silent as he moved through the streets, his cloak pinned to the very top of his head. So long as he stayed away from the Streets of Silk, he was as good as invisible. The book stores were nothing fancy, a simple hole in the wall with an oil-filled lantern to keep it from getting too dark, bugs buzzing on the walls as he looked over the titles. He could not find a single shop that only sold books, for all of them sold a plethora of things. But this one, Books and Beads, was quickly becoming his favorite. 

It had its own charms, figuratively and literally. Orange peels burned constantly with cinnamon, making the whole room smell like autumn, and his eye squinted as he traced over title over title. They were all things he had never heard of, unique with crooked cut parchment, and some still smelling of ink. Fresh copies. He flicked through the first few pages of a fairytale: A breakfast in the woods. It seemed fairly demonic in nature, going into the ideas of old fairytales and the old gods, and yet, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

Written with illustrations and brief poems, it didn’t make sense in the slightest. But it would give him something to do. He could fill a whole notebook with quotes, and perhaps he could add it some lines of his own. He would do that often, which is why he cut off his personal library to everyone else. They didn't need to know what he wrote in the margins. It was like therapy. Except, not as good, and it didn’t solve much. His eye continued to wander until he came across the most curious thing. 

The Big Book of Sea and Sand. It was the only copy, and it looked as though it had been beaten with a hammer. It was full of drawings and diagrams of sea creatures that he couldn’t even be bothered to pronounce, and passages full of words he didn’t know existed. After a moment of pondering, he went to the counter, where an old woman resided. Her hair was gray and thin, and her head was covered with a crown of shells and wood. It was messy, and ugly, but pretty in a way that was both endearing and off putting. “Just these, please,” He said, holding up both of the books. 

 “Three silvers,” She said, her fingers trailing over the titles as she wrapped the hard covers in gritty paper. He scoffed, shaking his head and placing his hand down. 

“They are not worth that much and you know it. That book looks as though it has been stomped on by a herd of filthy sheep,” He said, eye narrowed. He knew he could afford it, but there was a thrill in the bargain. And besides, if he walked out with a good deal, he would be able to buy more books with the same pocket. The woman raised her brows, her forehead wrinkling like the face of an old dog.

 “But the knowledge is still worth three silvers. The covers may be ugly, but the value does not change,” She said, wrapping the stack in twine. He sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked down. 

“Two books do not cost three silvers,” He mumbled.

 “How about this. Two books, and one fine quill.” She spoke, holding up what seemed to be a peacock feather. It was large and extravagant, the fibers of the feathers shining with the colors of the deep sea, swirls of green and rich violet. “You have a deal,” He said, popping the three silver coins on the counter and pushing his package into the pocket of his cloak. As he moved for the exit, he walked past a bin as large as a wagon, full of glass beads. Some were humongous, while others were the size of a pin head. Small burlap sacks were placed next to the box, along with a sign.

A bag of beads for a copper. What was anyone to do with so many of them? Make bracelets for a whole kingdom? He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he left the shop, before an idea tickled his brain. What did women love more than money and flattery? Gifts. And what was better than a gift? Something handmade, with love. Slowly, he walked backwards until his feet were back on the wooden floor, and he didn’t bother looking as he filled up a burlap sack with two scoops of beads, glass and nut and wood. 

“This, too.” He said, putting the copper down before the woman could respond. The night was growing old, and he did not care to be out when storms were brewing and sex was in the air. He groaned as he moved through the forest, the cold air lapping at his warm skin and nipping at his exposed ears. He could see the glow of candles gleaming in the windows of the maids quarters, and the silhouette of Helaena doing her nightly pacing. Perhaps she would like a bracelet, too. And he was very aware of how many beads he had purchased. Maybe one for his mother, as well.

Even though he knew that she would not wear it. His hands twitched as he dragged himself to his chambers. Whoever built the Keep had to be smoking something stronger than the Gods if they thought this place would be walkable. It took him half an hour to navigate in the darkness, until he finally collided with his bed, slapping his purchases down on his bedside table as exhaustion climbed up his spine. But he could not sleep just yet. 

He would have to bathe, to wash the scent of the city off his skin. There was a constant smell of smoke and sweat in the air, and his shoes would need a wash too. He had no idea what he had stepped in that smelled so vile, and he wasn’t certain that he wanted to know what was in the mystery substance. He poured himself a cup of wine, running his bath until his mirror was coated with steam. His heart thumped as he stared at his reflection. He hardly ever had his mirrors uncovered, he often forgot what he looked like. It was easier this way. His eyes wandered down to his chest, covered in small bruises of love bites and knicks and scratches from training.

His hands were calloused from holding swords and reigns. He’d let himself be hardened like a diamond in the earth. With a sigh, he slowly sat in his bath, wincing from the heat as his skin flashed bright red like a boiling crab. He pulled the pins from his hair, letting it get covered in water, the artificially straight strands scrunching into their natural curls. How he hated it. It was too Hightower. It took away from his regal appearance, in his opinion, at least. 

He only bathed every few days, and he knew the morning would be spent in his chair, hours of having a hot comb scraped across his scalp and ends. It would only last three days before his hair would get too heavy with grease and need another wash. His ankles rested on the edge of the tub, and he drank his wine until a splash spilled into the water, twirling like blood. He groaned, downing the rest of the cup before he finally washed himself, scratching his scalp with his nails as a mountain of shampoo grew on his skin.

The sun would be up soon, and just as the first touches of sun spread across the sky, his cheek hit his pillow. He knew it was close to noon when he heard the loud screeches of the birds and the maesters, and he groaned as he lifted his blankets over his head, burying his face in the plush. His hair was a mess of frizz all around him, like an unkept mane of a lion. A knock hit against his door, echoing off his wall. With a huff, he slowly sat up, pawing around for his eyepatch that had gone flying off in his slumber. It was upside down and hardly secured to his head when he called out, clearing his throat.

 “Yes?” He calls out, waiting for a response. After two seconds, he rolled his eye, standing up and throwing on his long, heavy robe, swinging the door open, finding his knight. “Yes?” He repeated tiredly.

 “Your mother requests your presence in her solar,” The guard responded. He didn’t understand why his mother could never come to his chambers to speak to him. It made him feel a certain way, one that he didn’t really understand. She frequently visited Helaena, and yet.. He was not worth the effort. He nodded quietly, thanking the knight before he rang his bell, summoning his maids. There were maids that were meant to help him dress, but he didn’t care much for people touching him, or seeing his bare body. Especially people that he would have to see around his home. It was an odd concept. And he liked the one that did his hair. She was quiet, and she didn’t expect anything. She would simply light a candle and heat the metal comb, wiping it on wet fabric until it sizzled. 

“You could do well with a thinning.” She said. He didn’t respond, sitting still and biting down on his lip as the teeth of the comb bumped his skin. It took nearly an hour for all of his hair to be hot and straight, and the maid helped him to get the leather bands in, keeping it out of his face. “It is supposed to rain today. Do not go outside, or all of this will be in vain,” She spoke, and he nodded as she wrapped her supplies back up, slipping out the door. He dressed in his day clothes, which were not so different from the ones he wore to bed. A white undershirt that was hidden by the darkness of his doublet, a golden buckled belt resting on his hips.

Giving himself a glance in the mirror, he quickly corrected his eyepatch before heading out his door, heading to his mothers solar. She had learned very quickly that when she wanted to speak with him, it was best to send for him an hour earlier than she actually expected. He took longer than most princesses to prepare for his day, knocking on the door. When his mother opened the door, she looked bright and excited, like a puppy. His brows raised. He was not used to seeing his mother so enthusiastic, so unmasked. He smiled back, slowly, though he wasn’t sure why they were smiling. “We have a response,” She says, quickly going to her desk and holding up a letter. It didn’t look to be very long, and he carefully grabbed it in his hands.

Your Grace,

We are delighted that you have chosen to reach out to us. Luckily, Emberwyn still remains unwed and is almost a woman grown. While she is not overly fond of the idea of marriage, she would be willing to meet with your youngest son, Aemond. We would like to invite you and your son to our home on the 20th day of the Moon. We will provide a dinner of fish, clams, and crabs, and would love to have you stay as guests for the night. Our guest chambers have just been redone and are in great need of a break-in. 

Lord Tully.

Aemond read the letter a few times over, just in case he misread anything. “The 20th day? Isn’t that in only four days?” He asks, brows scrunched. It would be a long journey by carriage, unless, of course, he went on dragonback. Which could go brilliantly, or lead to him horrifying the woman he hoped to court. “It is. It would do us well to start packing. And do your best not to say anything unsavory,” She spoke, waving to some maids, having them get her trunks. “Unsavory?” He repeats, staring down at her. It was hard for him to believe that he had been shorter than her, once. When he was 14, he had the biggest of growth spurts. For four moons straight, all he did was eat and sleep, and suddenly he was 6 feet and built like the statues in the Sept. 

“It would not be proper to speak of the histories and philosophies. While I know you enjoy such topics, it is not appropriate to discuss at a lunch with a lady. Be sure to stick to simple topics that could not lead to arguing. The weather, the meal, her gown, your journey. And try your best not to speak of your swords,” She spoke, and as much as he would love to argue, he bit his tongue and nodded. He didn’t understand the rules of courting. What was the point of speaking on the passing of the clouds and the burning of the sun? It would tell nothing of his character, nor Emberwyn’s. And he did not want to marry a simpleton. She would have to have at least some interest in his hobbies, as he would in hers. If she had many hobbies. And he hoped that she did. A pit grew in his stomach as he watched the maids pack up his things. It was becoming too real.

 The excitement of the letter was greater than this feeling. Of not knowing what would happen. But now that he knew he would actually be meeting her, face to face, he twisted in discomfort. He frowned as the maids packed his ugliest clothes. The coats that he hoped he would never have to wear in the public. He always found his formal clothes to be hideous. The high colors, the bright red, the gems. He only sighed to himself as he took his books and his bag of beads to the library, burying himself at a table between the shelves. They were like a protective wall around him. As he untied the twine that kept the packaging paper together, he was careful not to cut it or wrinkle it too much, stretching it out. It was as big as his wingspan, and he tried to get an idea of how short it would be. 

As he cut it with his knife, he silently ridiculed himself. Why would a noble lady want a beaded mess crafted by his hands? He only got more agitated as he tried to get the tiny beads onto the material, his eye squinting. The end didn’t want to get into the hole. Licking his lips, he took a deep breath as he sucked the end of the twine, trying to get the end to be more narrow, trying to shove it through the hole once more. It took him perhaps an hour to get ten beads on teh twine, and he stared tiredly at it, setting it down. “Maeya,” He spoke, calling over one of the maids as the sweeped the library floor. She was quiet and chubby, a bit younger and shorter than him. 

“Yes, my Prince?” She asked. She looked anxious, as if he were about to fire her on spot, despite the fact that he didn’t hold that authority. He always felt guilt in his belly whenever the maids reacted to him in such a way, perhaps afraid that he would treat them the same way that his brother did.

 “Come here, please. Let me see your wrist,” He spoke, waving her over. After a moment of hesitance, she lifted the sleeves of her dirty gown. Her fingers were squishy and stumpy, and her skin held no jewlery. Based on what he was picturing in his mind, her and Emberwyn were probably the same size. “You are a woman. Or a girl. You are something.” He said awkwardly as he wrapped the twine around her wrist, pinching the material where the twine would wrap comfortably on her skin. 

“...Thank you?” She mumbled, brows scurnched. She couldn’t tell where he was going with this, and her cheeks were getting a little pink. “You’re welcome.” He said, taking the twine back. “So- what do you know about women? Do you think a woman some years older than you would like something such as this?” He asked, holding up what he had so far. He was trying to copy a pattern from a book of traditional beading, but it was much too advanced for him to follow correctly. He was certain he had repeated the same step a few times.

 “...I think a woman would,” She responded honestly. “It is not my taste. But it is the thought that counts.” She spoke. He nodded, fiddling with the jewlery in his hand. “I think these beads are prettier,” She says, reaching into the bag and pulling out a few shell beads. Some were clay, but she seemed to stay away from the glass ones. 

“You like them more than the glass?” He asked, watching her nod. She slowly sat down, combing through the small spheres. 

“I think that you should use a shell as the center piece. Who is this for?” She asked, taking the twine into her own hands. “A lady. A fine lady of Riverrun.” he said, a hint of pride in his tone. She hummed, turning the project in her hands a few times. “Well. For a lady of riverrun, perhaps she would like something with a natural look. Use the wood and the shells, and try to follow a zigzag knot for the closure,” She suggested, and he nodded as though he understood.

 “A zigzag knot, of course,” he mumbles, sighing as she walked away. When he finally finished crafting the bracelet, it was time for his afternoon meal of a meat pie and eggs, and he ate as he leaned over one of his books. 

“Posture,” Alicent reminded him softly, making him sigh as he straightened up. She was one of the only people that ever saw him act like a child. Hunched over, picking at his food, mumbling under his breath. And yet, he could never see the same from her. She had played her role so hard that she forgot her own little quirks. He just hoped that he would never live that way.

 “Are you anxious?” She asked quietly, and he nodded as he set his book down. 

“I am, of course. I do not like being away from home. And I do not like travelling by carriage,” He reminded her. The last time he had done so was before he lost his eye. Since then, he was not keen on travel. He preferred to stay home as much as he could.

 “I know that. But this is only the first meeting. And once you both agree to a proper courtship, things will progress. Perhaps she could come here, or maybe she will even be interested in meeting Vhagar, but I cannot make any promises,” She responded, and he nodded as his eye wandered. 

“Eat your food before it gets cold,” She spoke, and he chewed quietly. “Enjoy it while you can. In Riverrun, all they ever eat is fish. Disgusting.” She mumbled, sipping her tea. He fought the urge to scoff, leaning back in his seat. 

“I hope you do not say that while we are in their home,” He said, and she laughed quietly against her cup. 

“Of course not. I know better. Now, we have to leave in a day, so make sure that you have everything you wish to bring,” She said as she dug into her small bowl of fruit. 

“In a day? I thought they were not expecting us for a few more nights?” He asked, to which she nodded. 

“It is a long journey. It is best to leave early than arrive late.” She spoke, and that night, he slept in his bed as a single man for what he hoped to be the last time. For the next afternoon, he would be on his way to Riverrun.

Thank you to everyone who reads!!!

-BK ♡

[lialacleaf]

The Chief And The Intern

Chief x Reader

Was Waiting All Along

It had been months since you had heard from John. Life hadn’t been the same since you’d gone back to finish your last semester of your master degree. University used to excite you, but after having run around the galaxy with the UNSC, being in actual danger, you felt bored.

Your friends noticed the difference when suddenly you were unavailable to go to the mall, and more interested in visiting the firing range.

Your mother almost fainted when she learned you’d taken up a martial arts class in your spare time. Your grades weren’t suffering, so you didn’t exactly see the problem.

Your father had pestered you every day to submit your application to his company, but the only place you’d sent your application was the UNSC’s board of communications.

You were going to find John, and the rest of Blue Team. You couldn’t just submit to the life your parents wanted for you, even if you’d be monumentally disappointing them.

You were scrolling through your laptop in your little dormitory when you saw it. You’d been scrolling through emails for hours, each rejection letter making your heart sink further and further when you saw it.

“We would like to receive your application for our recently opened clerical assistant position.”

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing but there was one little phrase that caught your eye.

“Reporting to Spartan Lieutenant 104”

There was no way. Fred had found you? How in the world had he managed that? You took a quick glance over the email before following the provided link to submit your application and cover letter.

“You did what?” your father asked as you silently cut into your steak.

“I applied to the UNSC, and I got in. I’m leaving after the graduation ceremony,” you stated firmly.

“But what about the job your father lined up for you at his company! You’re just going to throw that away? I can’t imagine the UNSC is going to pay someone very much for communications work,” your mother rambled frantically as she set her fork down.

Family diners in your parent’s penthouse were always tense, but this was another ball park entirely.

“It’s clerical work actually,” you muttered.

“Yn! What are you thinking!” your mother asked.

I’m thinking there’s a very handsome space soldier up there waiting for me. I’m thinking I’m tired of being coddled at thirty two years old.

“It’s a good opportunity. Free travel, important connections-“

“It’s unsafe!”

“Nowhere is safe Mom!” You said, slamming your knife on the table. “I’m tired of pretending that Sydney is safe just because it makes you feel better to have me at arm's length,” you said, standing from your place at the table.

“You’re not going to survive out there, yn,” your father scoffed.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have before, but things are different now. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

Your parents didn’t come to your graduation ceremony. You noticed that their chairs were empty as you lined up to walk across the stage.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were being punished for not doing what you were told. Despite having argued with them, you’d at least wanted them to attend.

You tried to smile for the pictures as you walked across the stage, but it didn’t feel real. After the ceremony you packed your suitcases and left your dorm for the shuttles.

What if John wasn’t waiting for you anymore? What if you got up there and he’d moved on entirely?

You felt your throat tighten as you neared the pickup and your legs began to shake.

Were you making a mistake? Could you still turn around? Your parents would never respect you if you did.

You shook your head, silencing these thoughts as you loaded onto the shuttle. This wasn’t just about John. You were doing this for yourself as well.

“Wasn’t she supposed to be here already?”

Fred didn’t bother answering the question, knowing full well that if he told John the cargo ship was running late he’d probably grab a rifle and a ship and go out looking for you himself.

Six months wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to make the Master Chief miss you so much he could hardly breathe.

“She’ll get here when she gets here,” Fred said with a shrug as they waited in the cargo hold.

“She’ll probably be hungry, we should take her to the mess. She’s probably forgotten how to get there,” Kelly said, admittedly excited to see you again.

When the intercom finally announced the arrival of your ship, Blue Team sprung into action. John searched the faces of deboarding passengers for you, feeling a sense of panic until your smaller figure appeared, hauling two large suitcases.

He froze all of a sudden, willing his feet to move but unable to do so. He’d never felt this way before. Never had to hesitate, and yet he felt as if his stomach was doing summersaults.

Your eyes finally settled on him, and your feet halted.

Six months. Had anything changed?

You moved first, your hands abandoning their grip on your bags as you ran to him. Time seemed to catch up with the Spartan all of a sudden, and he barely registered that you had flung yourself towards him in time to bend forward and wrap his arms around your waist, hauling you in for a tight hug that squeezed the breath right out of you.

You buried your face in the Chief’s shoulder and sighed, the smell of gunpowder and cinnamon a sure sign that you were home.

“How’d you find me?” You murmured into his shoulder.

“Wasn’t that hard. Had some connections keeping an eye out for you. Ready to get back to work?”

He asked, setting you down as Fred and Kelly retrieved your bags. Linda gave you a firm pay on the shoulder in greeting.

This was exactly what you needed. Blue Team’s support, the promise of adventure on the horizon, and the Chief’s arms around you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you declared with a grin and the Spartan smiled softly at you. He had you back, and this time he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

Tag List: @discowizard88 @laurenstacy610 @amaraohara @starchaser-the-prophet @embarrassedauthornerd @117s-girl

[teyamloving12]

Stealing Mama Away

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader

Synopsis: Neteyam hates the fact his father cheated with a woman his age.

Neteyam knew his father had something for young women. Jake likes women who were fresh and innocent which was why he fell for Neytiri. Neteyam was furious at his father for leaving his mother. He knew how devastated his mother was from parting with her ex mate. It was unfair.

Until you came in the picture. Young and curious. His father marrued you right now. You werrre beautiful, but the truth was you and Neteyam were the same age. Neteyam understood his father's need of the ve of a mate but why did he leave his mother then?

You were the same whore who destroyed his mother and father's relationship, the same whore Jake would run off claiming he was training the young warriors of the clan, the same woman that broke his family's heart into pieces.

Neteyam sat in bed looking at the ceiling. He sighed befire getting up to drink a glass of water before he heard your pretty moans from his father's bedroom. He peeked through the crack of the door. He was shocked.

Your thighs were on his father's shoulders as Jake pounded ferociously inside of your sweet pussy. "Doing so well f'me pretty girl. Your moans are music to my fucking ears!", Jake said with each thrust touching your womb. You squealed from the sudden increase of speed. "Ma Jake, i might cum! Please slooooow down!", you mewled. The satisfaction of taking Jake's cock for yourself made you happy. He didnt need Neytiri when he had you.

" Youre s'much better and tighter than Neytiri, pretty thing!", you whimpered over his cock. You were so happy you were way better than his ex wife. Your hips met his thrusts as a sign of thank you. "Ma Jake please breed me! Give me children i beg you!", you whimpered on his huge member. You continued to moan.

"So pretty f'me, my beautiful wife!", he siad before he came insife of you. Your head threw back from the sensation. Jake's cock slowly came out your pussy and you climbed down from the bed and french kissed his cock and licked up his cum. You licked the sides of her veiny cock before taking him into your mouth.

Neteyam watched the scene carefully. His mind began to envision you sucking him off instead of his father. He shaked his head. No! It is wrong! Although you were his age, you were still his father's wife. He looked down at his erected cock. Your mewls were killing him. He was getting hard by the second. How you kiss the tip of his father's cock, how you took him in different positions, it was attracting him to you.

He prayed to Eywa hoping she would stop his unholy attraction to his young stepmother. He heard a voice calling his name in his sleep. "Teyam...Neteyam", he heard continuously. He sprouted up and turned to the right only to see his stepmom with a tray of breakfast in her hands. "Good morning Neteyam!", you said sweetly. His cock began to rise and almost was noticed by you. "Here you go! Im making breakfast for you! Eat well", you said before leaving his room. Interesting.

He ate quickly and stared at his hard- on. "Please hurry and go away.", he begged. He sighed before joining you in the kitchen. How adorable. Hou were the perfect little housewife. His father was lucky, too lucky. It was time his father understand something. He walked behind you before grabbing you into a tight hug and peppered the side of your face with kisses. You were shocked at your stepson's behaviour. You turned your head ti Neteyam un shock. "What is that all about Neteyam?", you asked. "Im just happy to see you, sa'nok."

Now you were extremely confused. "Neteyam you never call me sa'nok so why now?", you asked again. He jyst smiled. You shrugged your shoulders as you carried the sliced yovo fruit to the table. Neteyam's fake smile faded as he watched you prep the table. He walked up to me. He spoke iver your shoulder.

"How dare you.", he said. Before you could respond, your face was being pushed onto the table. "You think you can come into my life and just fuck it up, huh?", he yelled at you. You were scared. So the act while back was fake? "I cant believe my father picked a whore like you over my mother!", you start to sob under his harsh grasp. His fingers traced along the curve of your ass before ripping your loincloth off. "But then again, youre not so bad."

“Oh, is the dirty little slut unable to speak ?” He grinned , dropping your loincloth and grazing a hand around your thigh. You shivered under his touch, you never felt this way before about anyone touching you except for Jake. You whimpered as the grip on your ass got stronger. You screamed when he smacked it. "You knew our father was married yet you just had to take what you wanted, right?", he growled, literally.

He reached for his loincloth and that was when you began to wiggle. "Neteyam please dont do this to me! I'm so sorry!", gou begged and he just kissed her teeth un response. You didnt want this to happen. You thought it was all fine. He forced him inside of your glistening pussy without warning which caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"You act all innocent, hmm? What would my father say if he saw my cock inside of your soaked pussy?", Neteyam asks. His words made you wet. Neteyam pushed your head down further by the nape of your neck. "Mama, you're nasty!", Neteyam said grinning. Pushing himself inside of you even deeper, your eyes rolled up in pleasure.

"No! Stop! This is wrong! I am your father's wife!", you said through your moans. "Yes, you are mama but you're whimpering on my dick!", he said through his thrusts. Your pussy becane sloppier. You were Jake's and only Jake's. If he saw you like this, on your stepson's cock, moaning like a bitch in heat.

Your hips thrust back on his huge cock. "I belong to Jake. Not youuu!", You squealed. Neteyam squeezed your neck even harder. "No! Mama, you belong to me!", he said going even faster. "Neteyam...i belong to you! Im yours!", you screamed. "Thats right Mama! You're mine", he said before painting your walls with his cum. You laid on the taable with numb legs and Neteyam's cock slowly pulled out.

"I love you mama.", he kissed your ass before leaving you to your fate of being caught.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

The relationship of Winona Ryder and Brittany Murphy

So I did the industry of these two and it was very interesting if I have the correct information for Brittany, so what we going by is there both Scorpio stallions yes, Scorpio sons for Britney and Winona, where were known as a Scorpio, Venus, mercury and sun. Britney is a Scorpio son, Scorpio moon, Scorpio Venus mercury and Uranus in my video on TikTok. I said this is where her image changed may have come from. It’s suggests that she’s a Leo rising and some of the way she behaves as she got older before her just before her death and a few years before then she was doing like really weird like stances and stuff and she lost loads of weight and people are worried about her cause she was so little She was an amazing actress and I’m not just saying that because everybody says the same but she was very underrated. so going into their charts anyway let’s dive in like I said they’re both Scorpio which shows their connection with each other which I’ve put in the picture. There’s one picture I’ve put up there of her looking down they’re holding hands and they look like a really happy couple, and also Scorpio gets down like that and it will but their Scorpio VS were different because they sat in different houses and all the Scorpio. I’m sorry so society like the third house Gemini ruled but in her chart it is Scorpio/Libra because it’s placid so either way the third house had an impact on her image in her industry. Where third house represents short journeys your neighbours and your siblings and while you are nurses in this house, mixing everything up. This could’ve been where her weird partner choice came in not with Winona, but with the guys you married before she passed, it could also be why she lost so much weight so suddenly and  changed .as we look she could’ve well win by the people around her to lose weight and fit in because that time the night late 90s and the early 2000s were very fat phobic and you had to look a certain way and all of her colleagues were shocked by the way she looked even coming from Stacey – she pretends to be white., anyway, let’s dive into the Mars signs, so we’re known as a Mars and Aquarius say a lot of this in celebrities which would explain the whole androgyny of Aquarius. Think David Bowie and things like that people like that Justin Bieber like he looked like a young lesbian when he first came out excuse the pun not, and Britney‘s Mars was in opposition in Leo. If the house is alright, these two are going to have a really intense strong physical bond. Having your opposition in your mouth sign the sex is going to be amazing from experience, but even on a but also, if there’s a Mars in the seventh house position, you platonic level, which I don’t believe from these pictures that it was, they can bring in a lot of closeness, somebody you don’t feel scared of it to get close to in a physical way where you might with other people, they feel good to you oppositions can bring out the best in a person.

As we look at were known as Venus and mercury sun, Lilith stallion in the 11th cussing it into the 12th house we can show that those areas of her life are very important. A lot of celebrities will have this northern hemisphere planet showing because that is how we like seen on the outside world, what is seen and what is below the 12th house is your hidden enemies. You’re seventh house is your open enemies I’m telling you if these two were together they were like gonna be a fire repair, but a picture. Tell us 1000 words. and the connection is there without even going into it you can see how close they were. You can see how much they love each other. There’s so many pictures of them together and for when she was better at hiding her profile in the public guy, where is when Brittany got older and she changed her look many pictures of her acting a bit not out there but a little bit little bit crazy with people She came into her own when she took the role in 8 mile with Marshall Mather sa.k.a. Eminem.

 if this is gonna upset you don’t even bother reading it. I will put this in block Capitals at the end because I know Taylor Swift fans get annoyed about the fact that she is completely gay but just like a picture and you say

So like I said, Brittany is Mars is going to fall into Winona’s eighth house there’s gonna be a lot of growth there and then we known as Venus I mean Mars is going to be in in Britney‘s seventh house of relationship, it’s gonna show the open enemies of the moles and mazes at your energy is tax drive and your passion and how you get things done so it can’t be all bad and this is how I read the charts together and also were known as rising for sign fools into Brittany‘s fifth house of attraction for Leo risings conjunct the Neptune conjunct tinge her Neptune so whatever Neptune is in your chart, it can create delusions in that area of your life. The fifth house is a Leo house which was creativity acting being famous children. Maybe she really wanted a child often rising have trouble conceiving I had once Gemini and Leo were Baron, but there you go that are nutshell

[mania-sama]

find a time machine and take me back to when i was six

Nate - NF

➼ information ❧ Genshin Impact ❧ Pairing: Kaeya & Klee ❧ Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, gratuitous descriptions of pain, character study ❧ Summary: The story in which Kaeya is affected by the events of the quest, "Requiem of the Echoing Depths." ❧ Word Count: 938 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 18 April 2022

It started as a pull in his chest. Kaeya ignored it in the beginning, figuring it was a simple spike of anxiety from the close quarters of the confinement room he and the Spark Knight of the Knights of Favonius were trapped in. Klee took his mind off of it as she told an incomprehensible story about Dodoco and Inazuma.

That was the thing about little kids– they don’t have a great sense of understanding of the world around them. When something happens, it’s hard for them to retell it back to an adult in a manner that makes sense. Klee was no exception to this rule, no matter her title and position within the Knights of Favonius. Kaeya found it entertaining nonetheless. At some point, Yoimiya had helped Dodoco draw a picture… he thinks. Sometimes it was better just to nod and agree as if he understood what was going on.

The ringing in his ears became apparent suddenly without warning. Kaeya couldn’t hear Klee anymore, only able to watch as her mouth moved in continuation of the story. The stone walls seemed to start to move inwards, closing the already tight space of the confinement room. He tried his best to hide his growing panic from Klee, although it was clear he wasn’t doing a good job of it. She looked worried and said something, but he wasn’t able to read her lips due to his blurry eyesight.

Gloved hand pushing against the stone wall, Kaeya attempted to stand up from his previous sitting position in the corner of the room. His muscles instantly began to burn, pulling him forward and backwards at the same time. It felt like all of his internal organs, his flesh and bones included, were trying to burst out of his outer layer of skin. He groaned involuntarily, gritting his teeth against the biting pain.

Kaeya’s knees hit harshly against the floor as he collapsed forward. He could barely see Klee as she was undoubtedly shouting at him or to someone else. His head buzzed like a swarm of bees, effectively shutting off all his senses outside of the feeling. All of that, though, was being occupied by his nervous system.

He pulled at his hair, willing for the pain to stop and for his body to remain still. He was not aware of where he was in the room anymore, his uncovered eye squeezed shut as if it would help reduce his agony. Now, instead of combusting in on itself, his body seemed to want to go downwards. Kaeya didn’t know what was down, other than the damp cave systems already explored and unnoteworthy.

The palms of his hands pushed against his temples, and his breathing had become a pattern of uncomfortable hyperpnea. His entire being still wanted to go down, down where the ground would not give under his weight, so his body was retaliating against the pressure.

It got worse, somehow, when he felt the stinging of his covered eye. A thousand needles prickled against his eye, yet his two hands were already occupied protecting his head. Kaeya couldn’t apply pressure even if he wanted to. 

He was convulsing as he suffered nothing short of torture. Kaeya wasn’t sure how long it went on; it could’ve been a few minutes, an hour, a day. It was all the same to him as his soul tried to break apart every cell that held his body together and tried to scatter the stardust that made up his core being. It was with complete certainty, though, that he did pass out cold in the confinement room. Whether that be during the process of torment or after was of no difference. What mattered was the dreams of a distant life Kaeya’s mind supplied him during his time of unconsciousness.

Kaeya did not have many memories of Khaenri’ah. He was six years old when his life turned upside down, or rather, rightside up. He remembered the destruction the archons had caused as they laid waste to his homeland, but not the halls of the castle he once roamed. It was only during the times of sleep that he could recall what he once had before he was ultimately abandoned.

The past was the past, though. His eye was the only remnant of Khaenri’ah he still retained. Home was not the decimated nation– home was the little girl crying in his arms when he woke up in a comfortable bed. Klee took notice of the consciousness of the Cavalry Captain and immediately launched into a story recounting the events. Unfortunately, he remembered the agony all too well, and phantom pain prickled against his skin.

Home was the red-haired bartender, a man Kaeya still believed to be his brother, looking at him with a completely blank stare in the doorway. Home was the acting grandmaster sitting in a chair by his bed, making unsuccessful attempts at pulling Klee off of Kaeya’s extremely exhausted body. Home was the chief alchemist in a snowy land miles outside of Mondstadt, studying the alchemy that Khaenri’ah once excelled in.

Home was not Khaenri’ah, and Kaeya was okay with that. It did not explain why his body suddenly broke down and his soul attempted to flee his body. It did not explain why his unconscious brain only thought of the nation after the torture. However, not all things need an explanation. Kaeya was content with this information– if he received more in the future, then so be it. If he didn’t, then that was fine as well. As long as he could remain home, nothing else, especially not Khaenri’ah, mattered.

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @highoctanegem, @realmackross TIMING: After midnight on April 25th SUMMARY: Jade confronts Mack after her shift at Dance Macabre. WARNINGS: head trauma tw, infidelity tw, unsanitary tw

Even at a distance, Jade could hear the slutty bass pumping inside Dance Macabre. She couldn’t recognize the track, (and Shazam didn’t have the keen ears she did) but still, Jade bopped her head from her position anyway, wishing for a second she was out having that kinda fun. It was like a fleeting thought though, cause she knew how priorities worked. How commitment worked. She knew it was more relevant than ever, after the last few Ls she took. Slaying undead always came before grinding against strangers in the club. 

Just like B.E.P said, tonight was gonna be a good night. Jade had been keeping an eye on her favorite archnemesis for about two weeks now. Learning her schedule, scouting the neighborhood. Their next (and final) meeting had to be iconic. Too much time had passed since their goo adventure (which had been wrapped up very loosely in a “To be continued” ribbon), so what better time to circle back than now? (Probably, when she wasn’t like nursing both a stab wound, and a bullet wound, but alas).

Despite the nature of this particular undead, Jade still carried her stakes (there were plenty of vampires tingling her senses in the vicinity after all). But as always, she carried the star of the night on her back. Nope, not the crossbow: A sword. It’d been Ruby’s at one point which was the only reason it had remained in such perfect conditions before it was given to her. And like, decapitation was so not her favorite way of dispatching undead, but she was excited to play with new toys. And the gun was a bust since her encounter with Monty so... Plus, she was gonna look so hot wielding it too.

And then Jade spotted her, the one and only, coming out of the personnel door. She let Mack walk, cause she wasn’t dumb (just a little impatient), she wouldn’t risk getting attacked by a horde of undead if they saw her harming one of their own. When she was isolated enough, Jade came out from where she was hiding, coming face to face with the woman who once stole her boyfriend. (She didn’t approve of going behind a woman’s back) (She was a girl’s girl after all). Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight as her gaze fixed on Mack’s. She was in such a good mood despite recent losses. “Oh wow, look what the cat dragged in…or well, out, technically. Looking good, babe,” she grinned, strutting closer. “You’re missing that goo shine though”.

—

For weeks Mackenzie had felt the odd sensation that eyes were on her. It had honestly been quite a while since she had felt like she was being watched. In Hollywood all eyes were on her 24/7. Camera lenses, fans, paparazzi, but this had felt different. This had reminded her of the one fan she had experienced that had gone too far. The one who she had come home to find lingering in her bedroom waiting for. But ever since coming to Wicked’s Rest, the eyes that followed her had slowly died out as she became just another resident of the small and extremely strange town.

But tonight, she felt it again. Felt it on her way to work and as she was leaving to go home for the night. It was someone lingering in the shadows, and while Mackenzie didn’t like the idea of being followed, at least, in the short amount of time she had been a zombie, she knew she could defend herself in more ways than one.

It wasn’t until she saw the person come out and open her mouth that the young zombie’s guard was finally let down. And with a huff of frustration, the blonde rolled her eyes, “Seriously? Are you the one that’s been following me the whole fucking time? I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is just getting ridiculous, Jade. Am I gonna have to get a restraining order for your dumbass?” Mackenzie shook her head in annoyance, “What do you want? An autograph? A picture? A lock of hair to put with your shrine? Come on, man. It’s been a long night, and I just want to go home…without you following me.”

—

Jade snorted, immediately revitalized by Mack’s reaction. It had been a while since she’d gotten the thrill of arguing with someone. What was up with that? Was that what maturing looked like? Why did it have to be so boring? “I don’t know about this whole time, that might be someone else. I’d say two weeks, maybe?“ She moved her hand back and forth, estimating. Mack’s further annoyance earned her a cackle. One Jade cut short, cause like… she didn’t want to draw too much attention after all. “Oh, babe…I’d go for someone more famous if I wanted to be a creepy stan, you’re totally safe.” Sorta. The sword she was carrying would beg to differ.

But just cause this was her favorite nemesis, and cause this deserved more flare than just getting down to it, Jade decided to answer some questions. “We have unfinished business,” she sighed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Mack’s expression didn’t agree. “And, nope…it’s not Brody. But like, that’s still a thing that happened and makes me a little mad,” she conceded, taking two steps forward. “I’m talking about that whole…chomping on people thing.” There. Now they both knew this was justified. “I knew that first time, when I delivered your food, why even bother pretending? Then little Ariadne confirmed it, but we were pretty busy with the goo at the time, weren’t we?” She tilted her head, wondering if she should be done. If that was enough. But that hadn’t worked with Monty, so maybe she should go back to her regular style. Yapping till they had enough. “I usually like taking the ones with the…” she pointed two fingers down, signaling fangs. “But why not expand my horizons, yeah? Sorry for the exposition, it’s been like a season, I needed to recap for the audience at home,” she pointed behind her, to absolutely no one.  

And, oh… there was more in Jade’s script. “Don’t take this personally though, having a rival is like… so good for the ego. And I’m gonna miss the back and forth. Even if right now it’s a lot of forth. It’s not often I get under someone’s skin so easily,” a beat, then perfectly timed, “eh.” She flashed a smile. There was no need for this to be unpleasant. And Mack should know. “I’ll be good to you, I’m not really one for brutality. I’m here to help end this… curse you’re stuck with,” she narrowed her eyes,  “you want that, don’t you? Not having to crave human flesh. Not having to lose control and become a monster who hurts others,” her voice dropped to something more honest, her brows pinched together in concern. “I will help with that”.  

—

Mackenzie thought about the amount of time for a moment. It had been about two weeks since she had been feeling…off, “Yeah, I’d say two weeks is about right. Of course it would be you. It’s always fucking you.” She looked up to the night sky and let out a growl of frustration, “Please! For once! Can I have a break from Buffy the Fucking Vampire Slayer!?” Mack’s fists were clenched and her jaw had tightened as she looked back down with narrowed slits for eyes. If she was ever judging one to the point that she had hoped they would just disappear into a cloud of glittery smoke, it was Jade right now.

As Jade droned on and on and on, Mack found herself slowly unclenching her fists. In fact, by now she was yawning. Glancing down at her phone to see what time it was. Twiddling her thumbs. Hell, she was almost tempted to run off and grab a drink from inside Dance Macabre and come back, by the time Jade had finished talking, “Are you finished with your Holier Than Thou monologue? This isn’t a fucking movie, Jade. If you’re here to fight, which judging by that big ass sword hanging on your back, you are, then lets fucking fight. I’m probably going to kick your scrawny ass anyways.”

By now, Mack had woken up. She was popping her knuckles and cracking her neck loosening up. It had been a minute since she had actually gotten to fight somebody, and if it hadn’t been Jade she was about to face, she might have been more excited. No, the excitement would come when the bitch was laying on the ground eating her words. “And yes. To answer your question.” She already knew what Mack was anyways, “I would like to be rid of this curse of having to live off of human brains to survive, but you’re not going to be the one to rid me of it. I will help knock that ego of yours down a few pegs though.”

—

“Wow, not even one bit of regret for the people you’ve hurt? Come on… That’s pretty low, even for you. Then again, I should've expected it, after Brody,” she clicked her tongue, genuine annoyance simmering in her chest. It was always disappointing when monsters were content with their atrocities. It made it less exciting, for Jade. She felt way less accomplished taking out someone who didn’t care about what they’d done. Which, it should be the opposite, right? She should find so much joy in disposing of that type of beast. (She knew Ruby did, Jasper too). But how could she find a lost cause delightful? She always preferred helping over executing, the way she’d seen Onyx and Amber do. 

But she wasn’t gonna let Mack’s unapologetic attitude get to her head. She had this. She did. Wicked’s Rest would have one less zombie roaming the streets by the end of the night. That’s what she should be focusing on, not on whether Mack had any guilt over the whole brain eating. “Hey! That’s a step too far, like… we don’t have to lie, you know?” she rolled her eyes as Mack came for her ass. She did make one point (half a point, maybe), calling out the fact that Jade was not the most adept fighter. While Mack had done all those stunts back in Hollywood. “Besides, I’m aware it’s not a movie. Do you think they’d have two female protagonists with agency? You know Twitter and Reddit would be rioting, they’d call it woke trash,” she scoffed, looking to gain a few seconds to consider her first blow.

Mack cracked her knuckles in defiance and like, Jade had to respect that. It wasn’t a movie, no duh! but was there anything more fun than someone willing to rise the stakes and serve the plot? The script might be a little skewed in Mack’s favor, but Jade was nothing if not confident she could make this work. Even after Metzli. Even after the banshees. Even after Monty. And oh! There it was, some remorse (she should’ve skipped a few pages before bad mouthing her rival). “You should be honored, actually. Most slayers would just rip your pretty head off without giving you a chance. I’m at least giving you the time to talk. We’re totally passing the Bechdel test”. She pulled out the sword, at Mack’s request, emulating one of her greatest inspirations, CRJ. The blade shone in the moonlight. It didn’t get much use, considering zombies were relatively new in her repertoire. “Only the best for ya,” her lips curved in a challenge, beckoning Mack to draw closer.

—

She had let Brody’s name slide when she had said something before. But, now, to unknowingly claim that Mackenzie had no remorse for the people she had killed, especially Brody, had turned her annoyance into anger. She wasn’t going to play this cute little IRL simulation of a video game, Jade thought she was living in anymore. No, this was Mack’s undead life. She had to live with all the lives she had taken. Even the people she hadn’t killed, because she still survived off of their brains. The thing that made a person who they were, and everytime Mackenzie took a bite of the graymatter that kept her whole; the most important part of a human being that helped them to survive when everything else in their form was shutting down, she regretted it. Copious amounts of pepper and hot sauce could never make the remorse and guilt taste good. But this was what she was. She was far from perfect, but fuck if she was going to let another cocky hunter come into her life and try to tell her how she fucking felt.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me or my life, Jade. I’m tired of all you motherfucking hunters coming at me and telling me that how I feel is wrong. That how I choose to live my life and how I’m trying to atone and live with myself is wrong. So you can either take your pretty sword and scurry back to your ragtag team of assholes right now. Or I’ll take your pretty sword and shove it so far up your ass that it makes a shish kabob out of your Pretty. Little. Brain.”

Mackenzie snarled as she began to inch closer ready for a fight. She had needed this ever since Jade had first shown up on her doorstep. And while she could never bring back the people she had hurt. And never apologize to Brody and tell him how much she missed him and loved him and how much guilt she felt with each step she took, she could hopefully get Jade off of her back for good; whether that meant life or death for the latter.

—

Jade took in Mack’s anger, raising her sword just a bit higher in case a raging beast lunged at her. But for now, all the bite was in the other woman’s words. And… Even when it was Mack in front of her, a woman who had stolen her boyfriend, a woman she enjoyed tormenting for the sake of it, Jade felt a soft pang in her heart. Sympathy. That’s where Mack was wrong. Jade didn’t care how every other slayer approached hunting, that was their business, she didn’t dispute other people’s codes. But she was different. Not like other hunters. She was… a good hunter (...wait!). The thought slipped out of her mind before she could cling to it, chew on it for a bit, and get something nutritious out of it, cause Mack needed to be interrupted. “You don’t have to live with yourself, is what I’m saying. Forget for a second that you can’t stand my face. If you want out of the Z-life I can give you that out. You don’t… deserve what happened to you. Or living like this. Whoever did it should’ve been taken care of, way before they got to you”.

And that was it, wasn’t it? What Regan didn’t understand, what Van couldn’t get. It was all a freaking cycle. Why did no slayer get to Mack’s maker? Who failed her? Struck young and in her prime and with so much to live for. Who neglected their oath? Was it a hunter who went soft too? Who added grey into the black-and-white world of protecting humankind? Forgiving a monster that should have never been allowed to go free? Had said monster claimed to be a good monster too, possibly? Jade couldn’t allow herself to become part of the cycle. Jade couldn’t fail Mack, or the people Mack might turn if she lost control (when. Sadly it was always when). Jade could break the cycle –this cycle– tonight. She would. The grip on her sword tightened and… wait, a shish kabob!? “Hey! That is offensive,” She narrowed her eyes, but her mouth betrayed the seriousness in her tone. Cause she totally appreciated her brain being called pretty. (Someone across the ocean would agree with that).

Alright, there was snarling now. Mack was pissed (at the wrong person, mind you), and it didn’t look like they had more pages on the script to go over. Action sequence time. She wished she had warmed up her muscles. She felt a little tight, even if her wounds were close to healing. But if she chopped Mack’s head off quickly, that wouldn’t matter. She mirrored Mack’s stance as she approached, brandishing her sword as she stared into her rival’s eyes. All she could think of before either moved, was the tragedy that was Mack’s life, all too clear in her pained eyes. Not for much longer, Jade promised, before striking.

She wasn’t sure who made the first move, things always happened fast when it came to tussling, but a beat later Jade collided with a hard body, and crap… Her original plan to go for the head went out the window. She dodged a few punches (taking on several of them as well), before finding the right angle to impale Mack with her sword. Right in the abdomen. She twisted the blade before pulling away, shoving the woman back with a kick. She would not repeat the mistakes she made with Monty.

—

Mack refused to listen to Jade’s side of the story. Even if she believed she was doing the right thing, Mack wasn’t going to be some mercy killing that the slayer could write off as a job well done. No. Despite being dead, she was still a living and thriving being with feelings and a life, and she was going to make sure the other woman knew that.

Without giving it any more thought, Mackenzie found herself charging forward towards the hunter. Fists balled, she decided to go easy at first. Punches here and there were sometimes dodged and other times not, but being in a fight with someone who had the advantage of a weapon; especially one with extra length, had always proved costly at one point or another, and unfortunately, Mackenzie met that fate early on.

Feeling the blade being impaled into her thin frame caused Mack to cry out. Though the pain wasn’t as bad as if she had been living, she could feel the pressure of the blade being lodged in her belly and then twisted for added impact. As Jade’s foot came up to meet her, the zombie felt herself stumbling backwards, but had managed to catch herself before hitting the ground.

Her eyes bore holes into the other woman as she put a hand to her stomach and pulled it away barely covered in a slow moving sludge. Now, Mack was pissed. She knew this wouldn’t be the thing to take her out, but it would enrage her, and before she would let the zombie part of her take hold, it was time for her to put her black belt in karate to use, “You’re gonna wish you had never done that.”

Poised in a fighting stance, Mackenzie lowered her head focusing her eyes on Jade, before lunging forward and knocking the sword out of the woman’s hand with a roundhouse kick, returning once more to fighting stance, before sending a blow of well placed kicks and punches in Jade’s direction as hard and fast as she could in order to keep the other woman from having an advantage on her. She knew the more energy she burned, the faster her feral zombie side was going to come out and coordination would soon be lost, but if she could just keep her mind intact long enough to take out Jade, she could deal with the zombing out stuff later.

—

She watched zombie “blood” ooze out of Mack’s abdomen, icky fluid sticking to her shirt, some of it coating Jade’s blade. It was kinda interesting, she couldn’t deny it. She rarely got up close and personal with zombies so to see their full physiology on display had Jade’s eyes going wide. For like, half a second, okay? She was supposed to be a pro. (Onyx would’ve tossed that word around ‘rookie’ if he’d seen her, right?). Speaking of being or not being qualified, her cheek throbbed where Mack had landed a few nasty punches, and she was pretty sure the warmth on her face came from her own busted lip. (That and well, the metallic taste in her mouth). But she was fine, she was cool, those were minor setbacks at most, and she could take down Mack if she wanted to. She was better off seizing the offensive than waiting for the right time to counter-attack. 

So, of course, she inched forward when Mack tumbled, lifting her weapon. Jade readied for an overhead attack, to slice with intent and speed. Hack as much as she could on the first try. She didn’t want to extend this longer than it should. (And risk getting bested in combat, again). Too bad there was no such thing as a one-person fight. Cause Mack surged forward and canceled her attack with a genius move, hitting her wrist and kicking the sword off her hand. It clattered onto the ground and Jade wasn’t quick enough to reach for it, cause again, Mack charged forward with fury. And for a moment (or two) (or three), all Jade could do was block and absorb as many hits as she could. 

But it wasn’t enough. Mack’s kicks and punches were too precise for Jade’s deficient training. If she ducked a fist, a foot hit her belly half a second later. If managed to push Mack an inch away, she returned with a vengeance. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. 

A particularly strong kick knocked the air out of her lungs, followed by an arm swinging at her that made Jade lose balance. She tumbled backward to the ground, gasping for air. There was not much oxygen getting in, there was blood. Everything was blood. Her lungs burned. But two feet away: her sword. She crawled the small distance, seizing the handle before a shoe could crush her fingers. She rose from the ground and sliced forward. It didn’t matter how much of Mack she cut, as long as Jade slashed something. As long as Mack backed off enough to gather herself.

— 

Mackenzie was charging forward again hoping to get the jump on the sword that lay on the ground, but it was too late. Jade had pulled another slice through the air, this time cutting into the zombie’s neck leaving her once again pulling back on the defensive so as to not get impaled, but the tip of the sword had done enough damage leaving Mack’s neck wide open and more blood oozing out. And unfortunately for them both, it was the damage needed to send Mackenzie’s body into a panic.

Everything that had been keeping the living dead woman alive was now reverting into emergency mode, and instead of leaving her with enough sense to leave the situation, Mackenzie began stumbling forward towards Jade. Any sense of humanity that had been in the woman’s eyes before was gone, but with the lack in brain cells came an increased strength that left her with one goal in mind, food.

As she stumbled closer, Mackenzie managed to aimlessly send Jade to the ground with an increased blow to the stomach, and instinctively dropping to her knees, she crawled on top of the slayer and began pounding into her chest and face with heavy, limp fists on the brink of taking Jade’s head in her hands with one goal, and one goal only…consuming the woman’s brain.

—

Something shifted. A couple things shifted, actually. Mack’s gaze was hazy now, somehow both lost and focused on Jade. What remained of her… humanity, for lack of a better term, slipped away as she let the monster inside her take the wheel. She knew zombies got rowdy like that when they were hurt, she didn’t need the reminder. Mack’s movements were also different from the black belt martial arts fighter she’d been in the beginning. She stumbled forward, gait all wrong, all feral, looking at Jade the way Regan would look at her sometimes. (Except with none of the gayness). She was a snack, plain and simple.

But Jade wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t. Becoming Mack’s meal would be so humiliating after dishing it out. The sword pointed forward as a threat didn’t dissuade Mack this time, cause there was no Mack to dissuade. It was the creature now. She aimed for the neck again, desperate to slash and tear any flesh there, until the neck couldn’t sustain her head anymore. (Her belly was sick just picturing it, she was not a butcher), but when she pounced, she was met with Mack’s response. A tackle that was a hundred percent effective, throwing her to the ground, her head bouncing as it hit the asphalt. Ouch. She saw stars, and she didn’t have to be a genius to know when something was gonna bleed. She couldn’t worry about that. Her hand was still grasping the sword, by sheer stubbornness at this point. She could stab Mack, she could if…

The zombie crawled on top of her, supernatural strength overpowering her own special hunter sauce. Fists pounded on her chest and her abdomen. Like Jade was nothing but a steak to tenderize. Or well, a peach to beat to a pulp (but peaches were a sensitive topic). And oof, she heard a crack, maybe. Jade wasn’t sure anymore. Her sword had slipped off her hand while she tried in vain to protect herself from the beating. She couldn’t breathe. She was coughing out her own blood, trying to clear her airway. She gasped, frantic, almost in vain, blocking one blow to the stomach only to get another savage fist right below her collarbone. 

Was this it? Was she letting Mack take her out? Oh, something was definitely broken, radiating pain all across her ribcage. And nope, it wasn't her heart. (That one still hurt the most, somehow). And that… Regan. Her mind inevitably shifted to the one responsible for the more agonizing pain, as she held onto Mack's wrist long enough to stop the battering. Maybe her brain was supplying comfort images before she kicked it. Kinda nice! It could only be improved if they were accompanied by a sweet saxophone in the background. She would take a highlight reel with the best of Regan if the next punch was the one to end her, thank you very much. 

She wasn’t sure how, (plot armor, maybe), but there was a split second of clarity, where Jade realized she was giving up. Which was actually? So offensive and out of character coming from her, the most determined person on the planet. Come on! She couldn’t bite the dust yet. Regan would know. She said so. Would she scream? Jade wasn’t sure how that worked. Surely there was like, a distance limit, a radio, something for that kinda stuff. A geo-block, like on Youtube. (Ireland would geo-block her death) But nope! She’d never wanna be the one to help Regan test that out. And on a real note, there was a ring on her finger that dictated she had to live for a couple more decades, actually.

Jade hooked her leg behind Mack’s upper thigh, hips bucking forward, letting muscle memory be the MVP as she flipped them over. (It would be her core strength, saving her when nothing else could). She braced all her weight onto her right palm, and for the split moment she had the zombie shook, Jade allowed herself to... well, she couldn’t breathe, but recharge, maybe. She had no punches left in her though, she was positive. Her arm was trembling, not just from holding her weight, but from the wounds she’d picked up last week. But Jade had a knife… she had a knife. She reached the back of her belt, almost dying right on the spot from the sharp pain shooting up her ribs, but her fingers worked diligently to unsheath the weapon. There was no thought behind anything. It was just life or death. It was her hand, a knife, and the promise of salvation. And at last, some survival instinct kicked in. 

She plunged the blade into Mack’s thigh, hilt deep, pouring every drop of energy left, the tendons in her arm bulging from exertion. She retrieved the weapon, going back in again, and again. The monster wailed beneath her, and Jade had to resist the violent shoving against her shoulders attempting to knock her out. And then nails trying to dig into her scalp. (Not her hair, anything but her hair). A knife and the audacity would not be enough against this Mack. She stretched (ouch) to her sword, noticing the Claddagh ring stained with her own blood. Another incentive: She had to go home to clean it. 

So Jade slashed. And she felt sick, bile (or maybe blood, it could be blood) rising up her throat with every desperate wail beneath her. How could Parker ever do this? She was not a butcher. But as long as the sharp end of her weapon met flesh, tore muscle and tendons, and severed the limb to the point where amputation might be the only answer, Jade had a chance to escape and not be chased. Regan would not scream for her tonight. 

Of course, the adrenaline of getting close to victory made her cocky. Jade thought for a second about going for the neck, finishing her job while at it. But not only was Mack clawing and scratching her shoulders, looking to hold her tight enough to chomp on her head, she was also transforming into a more unrecognizable monster. (Weren’t they both?) Nope, how about some self-preservation? She had tested Monty this week already. Jade had to pick her battles. She stabbed with the sword one final time, pinning Mack there while she crawled away from the body. Somehow, she scrambled to her feet. Barely. She felt like fainting. Blood was sticking to the back of her head, her ears ringing, vision blurry. Oh, she was not gonna be able to get too far. (And not to alarm the audience at home, but… would she even make it?). She didn’t need far. She needed away from Mack so she couldn’t hop to her. Away enough for some poor soul to become Mack’s chance at survival instead of her. That was a failure in itself, wasn’t it? Jade was putting her life above those she swore to protect. Great. She might bleed to death alone (the way she always thought she would go, anyway) and be reminded she was nothing but the sum of her mistakes? It was a little rude.

Once she reached safety she’d call Emilio. The rest of her friends would be horrified if they found her beaten to a pulp (and half of them had gone to Ireland on chill vacay, anyway). Her knees buckled and she hit the ground again. Crawling it was. Jade would do what needed to be done, getting farther and farther away from Mack, no mental power to quip a promise of revenge. And when she couldn’t see Mack anymore, when she tucked herself into an alley, back against the wall, everything went black.

[coldfanbou]

TIAM IS Side Stories: Aftermath

A short side story exploring some of the aftermath of our latest chapter.

Jeongyeon walked into the bathroom, trying to get your cum and Dahyun's love nectar off her. She washed her face quickly and wiped it off. As she looked in the mirror to check if she had gotten it all off, she saw how much cum had landed on her shirt. In the bathroom, the smell was intoxicating to her. Pressing her fingers to her lips, Jeongyeon thought about the taste of it. Despite saying it was nasty, she couldn't help but hunger for more. Unconsciously sucking on her finger, her mind flashed images of the scene that unfolded minutes earlier. As her eyes wandered back to her cum covered shirt Jeongyeon collected some and started to drink it. She felt disgusted for doing such a thing, but she couldn't stop herself until she heard giggling and turned to see Chaeyoung, Momo, and Tzuyu standing there, putting their phones away.

"Ooh, Jeongyeon's liking the taste of his cum." Teased Chaeyoung.

"N-no, I'm not." 

"Unnie, don't lie. We saw you sucking it from your fingers." Tzuyu countered.

"Wow, Jeongyeon, you are really enjoying it. Let me have another taste." Momo said as she scooped some of your cum and drank it. She shook her body "Mmm, tasty. I bet it would be better from the source."

"It’s so much better from the source, Momo." Said Chaeyoung. "He gives you so much when he cums. It's so nice and warm when he cums down your throat. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Here, this is what it looks like" Chaeyoung pulls out her phone and shows Momo a picture of herself on the floor with her mouth hanging wide open, full of cum.

"Oh wow, Chaeyoung, that's a lot," Tzuyu says when she looks at the picture. As Jeongyeon sees it, she's aghast to see her younger member drenched in it. At the same time, her mind wandered to a different place—one where she imagined being in that position. "Unnie, if you're not going to finish that, can I?" Tzuyu asked with the most innocent face. She draws laughs from Momo and Chaeyoung as they look at their maknae, asking for a cum covered shirt. 

"Tzuyu, why don't we go? I think Jeongyeon might be able to handle it," Momo said as she led Tzuyu away.

"But I want it," Tzuyu said as her voice got quieter. 

Chaeyoung stayed in the bathroom with Jeongyeon. "This will probably only be the start, you know. I bet you're already imagining what it would be like for him to pump all that hot tasty cum down your throat, aren't you?"

"I-I am not, Chaeyoung. Now leave." Chaeyoung left silently, closing the door as she did. Now alone, Jeongyeon splashed water on her face and took off her shirt, throwing it into the sink. With her hand on the faucet handle, Jeongyeon struggled to turn the knob. She couldn’t get the taste out of her head. She grabbed her stained shirt, the smell of semen permeating from it. Holding it inches from her face, Jeongyeon's tongue was ready to lick all the cum off. At the last second, though, she threw it back into the sink and turned on the faucet. "What am I doing?" She asked herself as the sink filled with water. "He's not- I won't…." Jeongyeon's train of thought comes undone when the sink basin fills, and the water begins to overflow. She turns the faucet off quickly. Once the water went down, she grabbed her shirt and put it to wash, all while repeating to herself, "His cum is nasty; it's awful and smelly." 

[deltastra]

My Thoughts on Tower of God Season 2 Episode 8

Alrighty NOW it's time for Emily..not the prev episode lol.

WEBTOON SPOILERS WAS TEASED BUT NOT OUTRIGHT STATED

Rating: 4/10

Summary: Sigh. It's getting harder and harder to defend this anime. Yea. If you guys see me no longer posting about new ToG episodes, just know that I've given up.

ENDORSI IS HERE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I like how they make her horn more obvious.

WDQOJIJQWQ THEY WERE JUST STANDING STILL THERE.

Yo the music goes hard here. The movements though....its...okay.

What. Are you guys seeing this. THAT ANIMATION LOOKS SO AWKWARD.

The shinsu colour and effects are still good. But it also feels very slow, as if you can see the frames.

YO THE RUNNING ANIMATION LOOKS BETTER HERE.

Honestly Khun is right, but this scene also shows that this team, unlike S&S, is mostly business. They are not built on trust, but rather, financial obligation.

ruh-roh

God I love Wagnan.

BAHAHAHAHAHAH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS.

I FORGOT THIS TOO OH MY GOD HAHAHAHHAHAHA

The fire is so slow...

Awwww hehe

oh no...

No no no...

Literally my reaction watching that scene what the heck?! AT LEAST SPEED UP THE FOOTAGE?!

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH THEY ARE SO CUTE. ARKRAPTOR GETS HIS SNACKS YIPPEE!

GUYS. Look at Yihwa. That's all I wanted to say

And it's for Viole....Wagnan is just that nice of a guy ;-;

There's something so cute about Viole, the strongest in the team, sitting on the ground with the weakest members of the team.

IT MAY BE FROM AN AI, BUT IT GIVES KHUN SOME HOPE. I love it because it shows than even someone as logical as Khun would find himself clinging to any form of hope.

I'll be honest, I never understood this scene in the webtoon. It was a pretty creepy chapter though. The anime did it well enough!

Sigh. Okay. What the heck, they are barely trying. Trustworthy room used to be the worst arc which was animated but now its crazy that it had BETTER animation in its fights than THIS. I feel like the anime is absolutely botching these tests and making them the worst aspects of the story.

It hurts to say this but I'll be honest, this episode kind of killed most of my hope for this anime and Tower of God getting the respect it deserves in general. It took so long for me to watch this episode because I've been seeing people absolutely thrashing it online, which killed my motivation.

I've been making excuses like "oh they're saving their time and resources on more important scenes" but now I am not so sure.

Now, I could say that Tower of God's main charm isn't in its fights, but rather its story and lore. However, it's hard to enjoy the talking scenes when the characters look so stiff and sometimes expressionless. They don't even bother showing different perspectives during the talking scenes to help keep us engaged. it just feels like pictures with only the mouths moving.

I don't want to be a doomposter for this anime because yapping negativity all the time over an anime feels exhausting.

I might consider dropping this anime now and just enjoy being a webtoon fan.

So, if you guys see that I have stopped posting these reactions, well, you know why. Once again, sorry if this post seemed negative. I tried as hard as I could to keep it positive while still being honest about my thoughts.

[wisecura]

The wind and the leaf p.4

Sanemi x reader w.1k

no tw for now

masterlist

p1. p.3- p5

We found ourselves in the peaceful embrace of an inn. I made my way over to request a room, leaving you by the front entrance.

However, as fate would have it, there was only one room available. Hah.

A single room with a single queen bed.

What the hell? How can this lousy inn be that busy?

I felt my face flush once again at the implication that we'd be sharing a room, let alone a bed. I turned to look back at you by the doorway. With your spectacular hearing, I'm sure you already know the situation.

What my eyes saw caused my stomach to do flips. You look away abashedly, your ears twinged with pink.

This was for the better.

I made my way over to you and as if you hadn't heard-

"Uh, it looks like there's only one room left," I stated, shifting nervously at what you might say. Your eyes never reach mine.

"O-Oh... I see," you replied softly, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. Your eyes look downcasted, head cocked to the side, and the tips of your ears seem to flush that much more with me confirming it.

"We could ask if they have another room at a different inn... but it's late, and we're both exhausted..."

You nodded, gaze fixed on the floor, clearly lost in thought. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, you looked up at me, eyes locked, seeming to grow the confidence that temporarily escaped you.

I couldn't help the slight grin that came to my face from your flustered reaction. It felt like I was finally getting somewhere with you. I decided to do everything I could to keep us here.

Before I could say anything more, you opened your mouth.

"If-if you don't mind, we could... share the room," you murmured, cheeks still flushed. I just couldn't stop staring at your face.

You didn't even show Rengoku this flushed side to you, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my head, not wanting to spoil this image of you.

Surrounded by the inn's cozy ambiance, I could almost picture this as our future home. And you, as my wife, looking up to me with that flushed look on your face.

Telling me to hurry up and come to bed.

That was quite a look you were sporting on your face.

The dirty thoughts soon came rolling in out of nowhere, and I quickly averted my eyes from you.

My heart soared at a pace that was way too quick for comfort. I was almost positive you heard it.

"I-I don't mind at all," I replied, attempting to sound nonchalant, even though I was fucking stuttering. How are you able to disarm me so quickly in only seconds.

We took the key from the innkeeper and made our way to the room, me following a few feet behind you. As we entered, the air grew thick with tension and uncertainty upon seeing the bed.

You never know just how small a queen-sized bed can be 'til you're fixing to share it with someone. He was sure with his size, he could easily take up more than half of it.

Should he just sleep on the floor like a fuckin dog?

Glancing over to you, you also seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Your cheeks were a little rosy, and your ears still dusted pink. You didn't say a word, and I noticed just how close we were now standing. I wish I could just wrap my ar-.

"Uh, we should probably decide who gets the bed," you spoke up, voice cracking ever so slightly.

I couldn't help but feel a little prideful that you seemed to be so flustered and cute from the thought of staying here.

Beat that, you damn hot-head.

I didn't mean to keep staring. It must've made you uncomfortable. Your eyes were shifting around, seeming to try to look at anything but me. "I um… you can have the bed," you seemed to answer your own question, eyes still not meeting mine. So cute. I couldn't resist seizing the opportunity to tease her, a smirk fixing on my lips. "Well, aren't you generous? Giving up the bed for lil ol me," I teased, voice dripping with playfulness. Your eyes widened, cheeks now flushed a dark red. This is so new for you. How would this not egg me on?

"I-It's just the right thing to do… for someone who's exhausted…" you stammered, words barely audible. I've seen so many new sides of you today.

Was it the tension from before? Were your thoughts in a different place like his? He wasn't going to let go of this so easily now that he finally was getting somewhere with you.

I chuckled, feeling a warmth bloom within him. This was the first time I had seen her flustered, and I found it utterly captivating.

Taking a step closer, I leaned in, voice low and filled with teasing affection.

My mouth inches from your ear, my breath brushing against your neck. I see you flinch. I blow on your ear.

"You know, you're quite adorable when you get flustered,"

I see your eyes open a little wider, mouth opening slightly as if you wanted to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you gaped at me like a fish.

You're finally the one short-circuiting instead of me.

You stared at me bewildered, composure temporarily shattered.

I couldn't suppress my laughter any longer, a genuine and warm sound filling the room. I felt a surge of affection for the sight in front of me and this serene and stoic girl who had managed to capture my heart without even trying.

You finally looked away, grumbling about how immature I was. I poked your squishy cheeks, doting on how cute you were. You were attempting to swat at my hand.

In the midst of me teasing you and poking your cheek, we began to settle into the realization that we were going to be spending the night together.

The moon glowed gently through the window as I stared into your eyes. You looked like you expected me to say something. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, there was a knock at the door.

p1. p.3- p5

masterlist