#thanks for the ask btww

[fierceyetflawed]

Can we see some of the photos you're really proud of?

I've tried answering this ask with said photos like ten times now but tumblr fsr won't let me do it!!!! tried posting them seperately but it still didn't work :( im SO frustrated

I'll try again tomorrow sighhhh you will be able to check them out here

[kiawren]

hi!! this is @lovinggreeniehours i just followed back hfdgkjgdfh if you don't mind, could you tell me more about kiawren? im only vaguely familiar with gen7 but im curious 🍿🍿🍿

i hope your day/night is nice today btw!

HEY HI HI Sorry for only just getting to this ask😭

Kiawren lore WHERE TO STARTTT.

Ok so in the gen 7 games the player comes to alo.la as some rando tourist invited by prof ku.kui and then they meet lillie and do the island challenge and pkmn league and become the champion of the region

Personally I do not follow that at all cuz alo.la is based off hawaii idk it's a bit iffy how some foreigner just comes and does main character stuff and everybody praises them ahajdkdkl becuz native hawaiians do not encourage tourists to just come...

So my s/i goes to alo.la as part of some conservation programme for academic research and social outreach or something like that, for like 3 months. This detail makes me rlly happy becuz conservation is exactly my irl ambition and it makes my selfshipping have some sense of groundedness aaahhh. And also becuz in alo.la in particular, the bonds between people and the natural world/pkmn are emphasised and it's exactly this love of nature and culture that are like my biggest passions and interests so idk it's just rlly comforting to self insert there and think I can do this sort of thing that I'd love to do irl, even from a non selfship perspective with kia.we

Anyway so a couple days after s/i moves in they meet kia.we at wela volcano park (the site of his trial-which are basically gyms in gen 7) and tries to find a nice place to watch the sunset, not knowing kia.we was the trial captain. They end up talking a bit and kia.we decided to stay with s/i when the sky darkened, becuz apparently coincidentally that day some graveler were like gathering in large numbers and as the trial captain he thought it was better to help s/i navigate their way down without disruption to both parties.

Tbh the first interaction isn't rlly fixed, mainly it's them meeting at wela volcano park is the fixed detail.

So then s/i visits kia.we somewhat regularly from them on and they start crushing on each other. S/i visits him in the evening when his trial captain duties are over and before he was gonna head down the volcano for his night job at a supermarket (canon that he has a job) (but I made up this schedule cuz funnily you can also find him at the top of the volcano at night)

They start doing that super regularly, and then kia.we gets laid off from this job that he was working to save up to study traditional dance abroad.

So even though its quite upsetting (and like truly... I feel rlly sad for him😭), they have more time to spend with each other at night!!! They end up talking till late at the volcano and at some point wren also visits kia.we's house and stays over, or they go on dates around alo.la. I think trial captains should have some free days so they also go on dates then :)

They both talk about their ambitions and ideals especially cuz when you talk to this npc about battle styles (the throwing the Pokeball) you want your character to have, when you choose Reverent style, he hints this. Basically you have to battle kia.we in sun and mall.ow in moon to get this style.

And I love this detail so much becuz they outright say kia.we is a romanticist... He has dreams he holds on to... And like me too you know... So at some point I think they sit and talk about their dreams and passions. Cuz like I really want someone to talk to about mine 😭

Another cool thing is Aether foundation conducts conservation and research so my s/i can be helping them with research and outreach

!!!! SPOILERS HERE!!!!!!! Under this pic of toucannon (my s/i's main partner) (idc about competitive)

The president of Aether foundation is Lusa.mine, Lillie's mother (my s/i is also friends with lillie), who in the games is obsessed with finding ultra beasts and becomes corrupted by one, basically the villian of the game (im not very sure about USUM, I haven't played those)

So being in collaboration with the Aether foundation, my s/i might find out and get involved in this plot too, just not in the main character way the MC does hahaha

!!!! Spoilers over!!!!!

Also, s/i has to go back to their home region (idk where) after their programme, and in the main lore he and kia.we end up in the same university together somewhere (I think s/i's home region), while in some AUs they don't see each other again for years Hahaha

[pragainfernal]

Are you super sigma

thank you!!!! unfortunately i'm not a super sigma :( but i will try to be one!!!!

[cocteautwinslyrics]

what's your favourite cocteau twins song?

lord its so hard for me to ever decide between Donimo (which comes from their best album BTW) and Pink Orange Red, which i do think is my favourite and which i love because it truly feels like a quintessential Cocteau Twins song to me

[cyellolemon]

I did a silly little "ask questions to my ocs" on Artfol and here is the answers

Also more context about the story here if you want

[burnt-cookii]

Hello there!

Sorry if this is an odd question or if you've already answered something similar, but I recently got back into Cookie Run and Cookies Run: Kingdom (subsequently my ocs for them as well) and I really like the way you braw the cookies! Is there any particular "skeleton" you follow, or is it just a general chibi style?

Sorry if this doesn't make sense!

You're ship's & oc's rock! Have a good day/night!

Ohh its alright lol

I follow the official Cookie Run art style as my usual base a majority of the features and add onto it (short neck, shoulders, longer proportions etc.)

[jitters-art]

😭,🍁and 🕷️ for paulinho or lae kham!!

oc emoji ask

eeeee i love them both sm i’m going to answer for bothhh :33 hehehee since this will be longer though i’m going to plop most of it below the cut!

[ ID: a bust sketch of OCs paulinho and lae smoking. lae is a khmer woman with bangs that cover her eyes. she has brown skin, some moles and acne. she has on two chokers, a red spaghetti strap top and several ear piercings. paulinho is a dark skin afro-indigenous man with facial hair, a silver nose piercing and locs pulled into a bun. the sides of his head are shaved and he has moles and a scar on his jawbone. he’s wearing a brown turtleneck and longsleeve with a few gold necklaces. he has stretched ears. END ID. ]

😭 what makes them cry? do they cry easily? paulinho doesn’t cry much at all! he actually developed aspd as a child due to ongoing trauma so there’s very few things that could happen which would make him feel so sad that he would be able to cry. really the only thing that he does feel so intensely for are his parents and siblings, SPECIALLY his younger brother murilo. so if anything were to bring harm to murilo i think he would cry. i think with the rest of his family it’s quite touch-and-go whether he would cry… are they likely to survive? if so he likely wouldn’t cry, but in a situation of his parents being killed or his siblings being killed i think he would cry. when his parents die of old age though i don’t think he would cry.

lae also doesn’t cry easily but she certainly is more likely to cry— she doesn’t have aspd btw. she is however quite emotionally cut off so i feel she tends not to cry in very tragic situations since she’s built up that wall and is “used to’ it. anything extremely major such as her family or closest friends dying she would cry, but other traumatic events likely not. i think she’s more likely to end up crying over the smaller, seemingly “meaningless” things. i think she cries during movies actually! and she’s a bit of a happy crier too, whenever something really good happens to her or the people closest to her she’d tear up a bit.

🍁 what is their favourite season? why? paulinhos favourite season is summer! he really likes the wet season, it’s something he likes watching and he likes the humidity quite a bit. he lives in brazil when he’s not at school so his summer/wet season is around december-march.

lae is actually very similar in which she too likes the wet season. she lived in laos before attending school so her favourite months are around may-september, i think she really likes the kind of vegetation that comes with the wet season is laos.

🕷 what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational/mundane fears? i think most of paulinhos fears are fairly basic and have to do with any type of harm coming to his family, again specially murilo and his parents. it’s not that he doesn’t fear for his younger sister mària but he got very close to murilo and certainly fears more for him. his siblings that are older (clara, carlito and salome) he doesn’t actively fear harm coming to them as he sees them as old enough to handle themselves. i think he also has a fear of bears. he just really doesn’t fuck with them T.T

lae gets nervous with heights and on planes. it’s a manageable fear but she definitely gets sweaty and uncomfortable whenever she has to be high up. which is tough for her considering she travels a lot— before she started travelling more i think her fear was much worse but she had to get used to it. she also definitely has claustrophobia, she can’t handle being squished into tight spaces very well. irrationally i think she has a strong aversion to maggots and other worm-like bugs. i think they genuinely make her feel sick if she touches one. so she has a large fear of finding maggots in her food— she definitely checks everything she eats very thoroughly.

[yoursjaeyun]

you take college life seriously

ALSO BOMB NEW THEME

i used to… and i still do 😃 so yes i do take college life seriously wkxhnqishwjosuwh

[junesilk]

hiii just saw you were a new account and decided to drop by 🙉 loving the account btww

as for a suggestion, how about some kurapika dating head canons? thank you🫶

DATING HEADCANONS

aka: how the hxh main 4 act in a relationship!

characters: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

gn!reader

kurapika—

The way your relationship started was a slow ordeal. And by that, I mean, it was a gradual shift from friendship to something… more.

You fell first, but he fell harder type of relationship.

It took him a while to realize that what he felt was love, but when he did, he was quick to act.

Sitting you down and having an adult conversation about how he felt was how he confessed.

He’s a soft lover, and protective of you. It can feel a little overbearing at times, but really he’s just trying to keep you safe.

Not the most physical out of the four, but he often has his hand on your waist or holding yours.

It would have been a while into your relationship when he finally relayed what had happened to him as a child, with his clan & all.

He’s very open about everything about himself to you after that. You’d ask him to tell you stories about his family, and he would gladly oblige, avoiding sensitive topics.

His hands would be combing through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, looking up at him as he quietly told you about his mother. His other hand would be tangled in yours, drawing little circles on the back of your hand.

He lives for those hushed moments with you, tangled in sheets as he memorizes the details of your face, just talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

leorio—

He’s a very sexual lover in my opinion, so you’d have to be okay with that before being in a relationship with him.

He’d probably confess his love to you on a whim, probably when you’re least expecting it. He fell first and harder, that’s just the way he is.

Genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and he treats you like it too.

Takes you on romantic, candlelit dinners at least once a month. An allotted day, in which he makes sure you’re free from work or any distractions, for the two of you to get dressed up and go out.

He’d be insistent that he needed to be in your arms in order to go to sleep. He claims he can’t sleep without you, but you’d occasionally find him with his head on his desk, glasses lazily strewn aside while soft snores leave his lips.

Loves it when you tie his tie. He knows how to do it himself, yes, this is true. But when your hands diligently and softly pull the fabric together around his neck, he falls even deeper in love with you.

Listens to jazz music. I will die on this hill. Pulls you into his arms when you’re trying to make dinner, and sways with you to the sound of the song playing in the background.

killua—

His favorite pastime is being with you, playing videos games. It doesn’t matter what, even better if it’s some low-quality game for duos. It’s endearing how competitive he gets, jokingly betting that he could finish the game so much faster than you could.

His fashion sense infects your fashion sense, and before long, you’re wearing his clothes. Loves when the two of you wear matching outfits, or even just similar styles. Out in public, at home, wherever you are.

Dates with him usually reside in arcades, malls, or wherever you like to go. He never lets you pay for anything, insisting that it’s nothing, even if the sum is well into the thousands.

Sharing earbuds with him is also one of his favorite things to do. You two have a shared playlist of all of the songs you like. After a few months, you notice how he has begun adding songs he thinks you’d like, and you had been adding songs you think he would like.

Buy him candy, and he will serve his heart to you on a platter. The first time you bought him those beloved chocolate robots he had loved so much, he seriously considered marrying you. Only to be dismayed when he realized that people his age shouldn’t be getting married.

He’s very sarcastic. You’ll have to put up with some downright sassy responses if you want to be in a relationship with him.

Prefers texting over calling if you’re long distance.

gon—

He radiates energy and loves to be doing something at all hours of the day. This can be good or bad depending on the type of person you are, as he adores going on hikes and traveling with you.

Likes it when you brush his hair. He doesn’t know what exactly about it he likes, but he finds himself leaning in to your touch when you card your fingers over his scalp.

Picnic dates for life. Just being outdoors with food and his partner, he could die of happiness.

Wears earth-toned clothing. You find yourself stealing his tank tops most often, because he always buys pure cotton clothes. They’re just comfier, he argues, and not at allll because he loves how they cling to your scent after you wear them.

Isn’t on his phone very much. You’ll text him asking what you think you should wear that day, and he might respond two days later with an answer. It’s frustrating sometimes, but being with him is like a breath of fresh air from such an online world.

Always loses at board games. No matter what game, from Monopoly to Life, he just can’t fully grasp the rules. Hey, at least that means you always win.

His body naturally runs really warm, so you’ll wake up in the mornings find all of the blankets are on the floor. You don’t really need them when you’re stuck to him like legos when you’re cuddling at night.

guys…….. two weeks turned into an entire month and a half IM SORRRYYYY. anyways i keep getting requests for singular characters and i always turn it in to requests for all four because honestly there’s not enough content out there for characters like leorio and gon and they deserve love too.

as always, likes and reblogs appreciated but not necessary!

[photo1030]

Heyyy I have a suggestion to make it’s kinda stupid whatever so it takes place at the mayor’s party where Arthur Morgan and Dutch is meeting mr Bronte and reader come running to Mr Bronte for some random reason and sense she’s wearing a corset she can’t get all the air in her lungs AND SHE PAST OUT so Arthur or Dutch (I LUV THEM BOTH teehee) gotta RIPS her out the corset.. that’s all I got LOVE YOUR WRITING BTWW MWAH! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi there @lizzie2980 So sorry this has taken me forever. Thank you for being so kind and patient (and hopefully still interested?) This was a great prompt, had a lot of fun with this one.

This is a bit out of the canon story, hopefully that is OK. This is a little bit of flirty and protective Arthur, with a smidge of charming Dutch in there...lovely combo, if you ask me....which you did...(This is not part of my existing fic, Leather and Lace, btw)

(The images used here were found on a lovely blog that is apparently designed to help fanworks. Check it out! Thank you to whoever put that together. https://reddeadreference.tumblr.com/post/679731317406072832/the-gilded-cage )

*Special thanks to @appalachiancowboy99 for being my sounding board.

DON’T MAKE A SCENE 

Summary:  You are at Angelo Bronte’s house for a fancy garden party when you meet a certain group of outlaws.

Your hands clamp down tighter as the plump elderly matron apologetically yanks the strings of the restrictive corset. Nails of already shaky fingers dig into the wooden bedpost that you use to support yourself with as you stand on wavering feet. You wince on the verge of painful tears as Bridget stands behind you and pulls the threads of the already too tight garment even tighter still, testing the limits of its stitching and causing a gasp to quickly get sucked into your folded-up lungs with each pull.

Sunset has already begun, the brilliant orange disc settling itself softly behind the horizon line for the day, and your room slowly dims to a pastel dusk as you get ready, the wall sconces glowing against the ivory painted walls of your lavish private quarters inside Angelo Bronte’s mansion. The garden party below will be starting any minute, and the shadows that dance along the walls inside the house mask the dread inside your chest. It is as if your hope and spirit are diminishing with the quickly-fading sun. You are hoping that Bridget doesn’t see the trepidation creeping into your expression as she flits about you, but the older woman is too shrewd for that. 

“You know...Mr. Bronte…he isn’t going to wait much longer for you”, she murmurs as her weathered fingers begin to run over your frame, smoothing out the fabric of your dress, picking at errant threads. “He will eventually want what he feels he is due.”

The obvious statement hits your gut like a prize-fighter’s punch. “I know,” you utter with a dejected sigh, your voice almost a whimper in the air.

The thought of the man’s pock-marked, oily skin against your own makes you sick to your stomach. It would be like a vile lizard rubbing up against you. 

But Bridget is not unsympathetic to your situation. She is definitely a woman of experienced years, as the graying hair of her loosely tied-up bun gives testament to. And she knows a thing or two from her twenty-some years in service to upper-society households. 

“You know, sometimes when you’re a woman, you just have to do what you have to do. Close your eyes and let your mind go somewhere else when it’s happening.” She waves her hand dismissively in the air as if speaking about the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. “Just tune it all out, let the man have his way, and then it will all be over quickly. In fact, it’s usually over quicker than you think.” She gives you a whimsical wink as a sharp cackle snaps out of her throat at her own joke. Whether Bridget is speaking specifically about Bronte, or any man for that matter, you are not sure, as this seems to have the feel of a rehearsed speech she has given many times over.

When Bridget sees the distaste of such a thing clearly coating your face as you silently stand there with your hands fidgeting over themselves, she continues.

“If you’re clever enough, you could let him have what he wants, but then have something for yourself on the side, you know.” 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to hers to find that knowing twinkle in her eye. The thought causes a humorless huff from your lips. 

“I can barely manage to look after myself, Bridget. I couldn’t manage that cat-and-mouse game.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs and continues to primp and preen your outfit. 

Despite the odd advice, you are grateful for Bridget’s counsel. She is the only friend you have here in Angelo Bronte’s mansion. You are not a hostage per se, but he has made his opinions very clear on how he feels about a woman, especially one indebted to him, leaving the premises to socialize without him as your escort and chaperone; so improper, so ungrateful. 

It is especially warm tonight on the evening of the garden party that Mr. Bronte has been planning for weeks now. The whole household buzzes with excitement and anticipation for the fancy event, despite the sweltering weather. St. Denis is dreadfully hot and muggy, making it difficult to breathe on a good day. You’re not used to such heat. You come from the northern state of Massachusetts, which is much cooler. The heat here is bad enough, but the humidity clings to the air like a wet blanket. 

And this damn dress doesn’t help in the slightest. 

The dress that Angelo Bronte hand-picked for you to wear tonight is way too tight, making you lightheaded already. You watch in the full-length mirror as the constricting fabric pulls your body into shape under Bridget’s strong, able fingers, transforming your voluptuous figure into an hourglass. A deep midnight blue hued fabric that shimmers in the light is cut to hug and accent your physique, leaving little to the imagination of the observer. 

If the origins of the dress weren’t so distasteful, you may have very well liked the beautiful gown that currently clings to your form and drapes over your hips in a cascade of silk. But you know Bronte did not provide this gown to please you. No, he did it for his own inflated ego. Bronte will parade you around tonight like a prized horse out of his stable, showing you off to all in tonight’s attendance. And he’ll treat you as such too - like something he’s purchased and owns outright.

You curse yourself for letting yourself get into this situation. You hate that you have to rely on this man for a place to live. You arrived new to St. Denis a month ago and were promptly robbed upon arrival, leaving you with nothing. So much for civilization. 

Bronte noticed you at the train station, frazzled and lost, and totally beside yourself as to what you would do now. You came here with no relatives, no contacts, just the promise of jobs and new adventure out West from an ad you saw in the newspaper back home. The man quickly made your acquaintance, preying like a vulture on your vulnerable situation. He was charming with a note of authority, like he knew exactly what to do and where to go. But it quickly became apparent that he offered you his home as a sanctuary in hopes to win your affections. You’ve managed to play coy for awhile, however, agreeing to be on his arm and accompany him to various social functions in town in exchange for residency in his home. But you have denied the man what he wants most - you in his bed. 

An involuntary sigh passes your cherry lips as Bridget takes your hand in hers, patting it in the same way a grandmother comforts her troubled grandchild, and leads you to the vanity along the opposite wall so she can set your hair. Your body mindlessly drifts to the tapestry-padded stool, like a lost flower petal in the wind, void of any energy or enthusiasm. 

Bridget’s nimble fingers curl your hair and pin it back to showcase your pretty face, adding in beautiful crystal clips for decoration and she even weaves a few flower buds from the garden into your locks. You sit silently in front of the vanity mirror with a blank stare, a melancholy overtaking your soul as you watch her prepare you to be the perfect accessory to the rich man’s life. The motherly woman’s presence comforts you, but she is also serving you up to the master of the house like a slice of beef on a silver platter for him to devour. 

“There, now. Don’t you just look breathtaking?” she breaths in awe. The deep-set lines around Bridget’s hazel-colored eyes crinkle as she admires her masterpiece. Your eyes refocus to catch the old woman’s proud gaze in the mirror, and then back over your own reflection.

“Yes, Bridget,” you whisper with a sad smile, your lower lip quivering just slightly. “You did a fine job. Thank you for your help tonight.” She catches the reluctance in your fluttering eyes and can only nod in agreement. She lovingly pats your arm in an attempt to comfort your growing uneasiness. 

“Well, I had better get downstairs and tend to the kitchen, then. Don’t hide up here too long, miss.” And she wipes her hands on her apron as her wide hips carry her to the bedroom door before she slips out and you are alone with your thoughts once again. 

With a deep sigh, you haul yourself up to stand. You swish the heavy fabric of your dress-skirts to the side to allow you to amble over to the balcony doors of your private room. Pulling the double-doors open wide with both hands, you step out onto the freshly painted wood as a rush of humid air hits you like a wall, causing you to take a brief pause to try to catch your breath. Your hands eventually find their place upon the smooth railing as you step up to the edge to look out over the balcony at the garden party below. 

Jovial music floats up to your ears from the string quartet that is playing on the patio beneath you. String lights delicately criss-cross over the open garden area, resembling a net that has caught a thousand fire-flies. Bronte’s guests have already started to arrive and their chatter fills the air, alternating with the clinks of champagne flutes. You casually observe as greedy fingers grab at the delectable food and free alcohol that is meticulously displayed along elegant tables that dot across the property, the delicious aromas wafting through the evening air. 

The scene laid out before you is like a page out of the society section of the newspapers. Always over-the-top, always impressive, Angelo Bronte spares no expense in his functions. Decadent food, expensive wines, extravagant decor. Always to impress the upper echelon of society. And yet, you have no desire to mingle with the high-society of St. Denis. From what you’ve seen, it’s hardly impressive to you. 

You watch with disinterest over the crowd, observing from the elevated vantage point as people collect in small groups, then turn to whisper to each other like conniving socal piranhas the moment one of the fold turns to leave to join another circle. With a scornful roll of your eyes, you have no idea how you are going to make it through this evening unscathed. 

And then, a collection of unknown men catch your eye. You’ve never seen them in Bronte’s circle before. And they clearly don’t belong. Under closer observation, this is an assembly of rugged looking gentlemen, a sharp contrast to the other guests in attendance tonight. Though they may have donned fancy tuxedos and hats, the way they carry themselves indicates they are not used to wearing such garb. Their eyes nervously shift all around instead of at whoever is addressing them as if more interested in what is happening around them rather than trying to assert social connections. Your bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth as your curious gaze lingers on them, trying to determine if they were invited or snuck in with the crowd.

As if he can feel your eye on him with the sixth sense of a trained outlaw, Arthur instinctively looks away from the men he is standing with and looks up towards the balcony of the great house and notices you. He doesn’t smile or even move for that matter, other than a single eyebrow lift as if in confusion. Your breath catches a bit at being caught staring. But yet you cannot bring yourself to break eye contact with the startling blue eyes gazing back at you from across the garden. And you can’t help the soft smile that blooms across your blushing cheeks at the ruggedly handsome man. 

When the mystery man eventually turns his attention back to his companions, you shake your head back to reality and decide you’ve stalled long enough. It’s time to begin to make your way down to the garden party and get this over with. You leisurely stroll along the length of the wrap-around balcony of the house to the stairs that will carry you down to the patio. Your hand has to grip the railing of the staircase as you walk, as your dress is so tight that descending the stairs makes you out of breath. The boning of the corset digs painfully into your ribs and hipbones as you move. Such a dreadful, masochistic thing, you wonder why on earth women put themselves through such torture for the sake of fashion. Once at the bottom, you attempt to take a deep breath, bringing your fingertips to your temples before bracing yourself to join the guests. 

First order of business, you scan the crowd to locate your host. It takes a few minutes, but you eventually lock-in on him when you hear his boisterous, condescending laugh echoing over the throng of people. Angelo Bronte really is a toad of a man. And despite his money and power, he is rather socially inept. Maybe it’s the fact that he's not from this country. Or maybe society is held differently in Italy. But either way, the elite here in St. Denis have mixed feelings about the wealthy man. Mixed as in, they like his wealth but do not care for the man. And that is where you come in. 

Bronte’s idea is that having a beautiful, refined and charming woman on his arm will make him appear more distinguished. Your role in this little arrangement with him is to be the doting young paramore, helping him to navigate the social circles. No one needs to be the wiser that the two of you sleep in separate rooms on completely different ends of the house. But for appearances sake, Angelo Bronte has acquired himself quite the crown jewel with your presence. 

As you meander through the crowd, you keep getting intercepted by random party guests, each one handing you a new glass of champagne. Your eye catches Bronte’s a few times as you mingle, as he checks to make sure you are performing as expected. Of course, the witty jokes, effervescent laughing and demure little smiles that emanate from you work according to plan. You can see Bronte pointing you out to guests from across the garden, a crude grin of approval splitting across the faces of the men he leans into, all chattering with hushed tones and hungry eyes. It’s enough to make your corset-restricted stomach turn. 

After about forty five minutes of false chuckles and empty smiles, you are desperate for fresh air and peace and quiet, so you discreetly head to the rose garden which is off to the right side of the party, hoping to find less people there.

Wandering aimlessly through the maze of hedges and rose bushes, you manage to find a quiet little corner away from prattling visitors and raise your tired eyes to the heavens above. The smog of St. Denis covers the night sky and it leaves you with a heavy feeling of disappointment that even the vast galaxy of stars is being kept from you in this dreadful place. With a dispirited sigh, your tear-misted eyes slowly roll shut, attempting to find some sort of solitude from this hell on earth. 

“Is this a safe place to hide?”

The sound of a deep, gravelly voice suddenly cuts into your mind, causing your eyes to snap open as you spin to see who is speaking to you. 

And there he is. The handsome fellow who you were staring at from the balcony. He stands quietly, a slight smirk of amusement on his face. It takes you a few moments to realize that he is indeed real, no fantasy apparition to come to stand before you. Confused blinks skitter across your face as you take in the sight of him. Now that you are up close to him, you can see just how tall and broad-shouldered he is. 

“Sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he offers when you hesitate to answer, his simple apology carrying little fanfare or bravado. Just a simple statement with no malice, no ill-content and no agenda towards you. 

“Oh…no…you didn’t startle me,” you manage to stammer as you try to regain your composure.

The stranger’s ocean-blue eyes float across your frame, head to toe, assessing you with a slight tilt of his head.  “You sure about that?” he jokes as he gives you a deeper smirk now.

Picking up on his genuine humor, you release the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. “No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I just needed a minute, is all. I didn’t expect anyone to be back here.” 

When you lob a smile back at him in return, Arthur takes a gamble and begins to move slightly closer to you, specifically intent on maintaining this conversation. “Hmm, needing to get away from the herd? Is that it?”

The term causes a chuckle to erupt out of your throat. “Yeah, something like that.” You begin to step towards him as well, both of you moving slowly yet purposefully towards the other to close the gap between you until you are about three feet from each other. The air surrounding the garden is like that before a thunderstorm, exhilarating because it could be both beautiful and dangerous at the same time. The two of you stand quietly, simply staring at the other like a couple of clumsy teenagers not knowing what to say. 

“No offense, but you don’t seem like you belong here,” you finally break the amorous spell with a raised eyebrow. As your words hover like a butterfly in his ears, you note the faded scars along the man’s chin, embedded into his tanned skin and nestled beneath his rugged beard that you can see was probably hastily groomed for this evening.

He doesn’t deny it, but counters almost playfully with “I could say the same for you.”

You flirtatiously narrow your eyes at him. “What makes you say that?”

He waves his large finger towards you. “You carry the same disdain for this place on your face that I do.”

Well, you have to admit, he’s got you there and all you can do is nod in agreement. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a bit,” he chuckles, bringing his hand up to pinch his fingers together to accent his point. “It's ok, though. Glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to be here.” And he tosses a perturbed glace back over his shoulder towards the noise of the party. 

“I guess that makes us two peas in a pod, then, doesn’t it?” you muse with a glittering smile that makes his chest tight.

A grin pulls at the corner of the stranger’s plump lips, causing his scarred chin to wrinkle. “I guess it does, doesn’t it?” 

“My name is Y/F&LN”. You extend your hand out and his large hand completely engulfs yours, dwarfing your delicate fingers with his own. You immediately notice how his skin is rough, yet warm to the touch, his hand strong in a comfortingly protective way. 

“Arthur Morgan.”

And the two of you hold each other’s gaze like a spark of electricity pulsing through the air to connect you. You can feel your fingertips go numb as your heart beats faster within your perfume-dusted chest. And Arthur hopes that you do not notice how he thickly swallows, flexing his now-sweaty hands before awkwardly kneading his thumb into the opposite palm. 

But your beautiful little moment together is short-lived when you hear your name being called out into the night, snapping you back to the real world. And before you know it, a very anxious-looking Bridget appears from around the hedges, her eyes darting around, her lips pressed tightly together in worry. 

“Miss Y/N, there you are! Mr. Bronte is asking for you.” She gives you a sharp wave in her direction before her eyes quickly slip to the burly gentleman to your right.

An embarrassed school-girl blush dusts your cheeks as you clear your throat. “Yes, of course, Bridget, thank you. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Arthur. “Well, Mr. Morgan, it was very nice to meet you. If you will excuse me, please.”

“‘Course.” Arthur dips his head with a respectful nod as you float past him, your fingertips nervously tucking a few tendrils of hair behind your ear. 

Bridget gives Arthur a good look up and down before she turns and follows behind you back towards the music of the garden party with a sly, smug smile drawn on her lips. “Maybe you’re more clever than you think,” she whispers impishly in your ear. You shoot her a cautionary look as you smooth your hands over the fabric of your dress, making sure that you are presentation-ready before you make your way to your host. 

As you navigate the crowd to approach Bronte, you take notice that he is talking to the other men that came with Mr. Morgan. The moment he catches sight of you, Bronte’s face lights up.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! There you are! Come, Come!” He waves you over to stand next to him. “I’d like you to meet some special guests.” Bronte crudely clutches your hand, bringing it to his saliva-slick lips before eagerly wrapping it around his arm. “This is Mr. Van der Linde, and his associates, Mr. Williamson and Mr. Matthews. Gentleman, this is my…’companion’, Miss Y/LN.”

You force down the bile in the back of your throat that the toad conjures up as a graceful nod and accompanying smile adorns your pretty face when you turn towards the men you are being presented to. “Gentleman, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

“Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Van Der Linde greets you as he flashes a sultry grin in your direction, boldly reaching his ringed hand to take ahold of yours that sits tucked in Bronte’s elbow. He brazenly brings your digits to his warm mouth to place a tender kiss along your knuckles. “Call me Dutch.” His dark eyes fully take you in with a glitter of mischief behind them. “Mr. Bronte is indeed a lucky man.”

Unlike Angelo Bronte, you find this new social contact of his to be quite charismatic and charming. And while most of the attendees of this event carry some level of bravado, this man standing in front of you seems to be quite different, the type to put his money where his mouth is. 

Interest flashes through your eyes at this dark-haired stranger. And Bronte is quick to notice. With a deep scowl of disapproval, his arm quickly snakes around your waist, holding you possessively against him in the presence of these men, so tight that it makes you squirm against his grip. You are about to protest the moderately painful discomfort when Mr. Morgan suddenly joins the circle, his azure eyes immediately targeting the meaty hand that grips your hip before lifting to meet your grimacing expression. The sight makes his face turn dark with a menacing presence to it. It almost shocks you to see the stark contrast to his demeanor from your encounter a few moments ago. 

“Quite the shindig you got goin’ here, Bronte,” Mr. Morgan says cooly, his statement breaking the tension of the social circle. “You always run things like this?”

The disapproval in your new friend’s voice causes one of the other men in his group (Mr. Matthews, is it?) to shoot him a glare of warning, to which Mr. Morgan shrugs off. 

Bronte lifts his nose at the rub, but he will not be made a fool of so easily at the challenge. “Ah, I’m sure you country folk are not used to such luxury, yes?”  

“Personally, I don’t care for it,” snarks Arthur with a snort of derision. “Hard to enjoy myself like a gluttonous pig when there’s people right outside the gate starvin’”

As you stand there next to Bronte listening to these men throw thinly veiled contempt at one another, you begin to feel dizzy. Your head starts to swim, spots dancing before your eyes, making your stomach lurch. But no one notices at first, except for Mr. Van Der Linde.

“You alright, miss?” Mr. Van Der Linde questions you with concern skipping across his dark features. 

“Oh, yes,” you wave him off. “It’s just…just this heat…” You begin to fan yourself, desperate for some cool air to caress your face. 

And suddenly the world around you starts to spin and your knees give way underneath you as if they move of their own accord. You begin to crumple in front of everyone and Dutch is quick to catch you just before you hit the ground, his strong arms shooting out to enfold you and ease you into the grass. The moment Arthur sees that you are in trouble, he promptly hovers over you as well, catching your hand into his own and placing himself between you and Bronte as things go dark in front of your eyes.

A collection of curious guests begins to gather around the spectacle, whispers and fingers discreetly pointing in your direction.

“The lady needs some air,” asserts Dutch as he kneels behind you.

Arthur is at a loss on what to do at first, but is quick to notice how restrictive the corset of your dress is, as your chest can barely move as you desperately gasp for air, your face turning red from the heat of the evening.

With a look of determination, Arthur’s rough hands wrap around your biceps and carefully lift the upper part of your limp body to lean against Dutch, who cradles you into his chest for support. Without a word, Arthur grabs at the fabric of your dress and quickly rips the corseted area wide open, easily tearing the seams under his hands, to release your lungs, exposing the delicate silk undergarments and bare skin hidden beneath. Shock slaps Angelo Bronte in the face as he stands behind Arthur, helplessly watching this embarrassing little scene unfold before his eyes. 

Ignoring the judgemental gasps of the partygoers, Arthur then proceeds to snatch a glass of champagne out of the hands of one of the nosey women craning her neck to see the spectacle and tosses the liquid into your face. The moment the bubbly fluid hits your skin, your eyes instantly pop open as you deeply gasp, desperate to expand your lungs to draw in fresh air. 

Arthur cautiously watches your face in anticipation as you rapidly blink the sweet nectar out of your lashes. Your eyes land on Arthur in confusion as to what has just happened before looking down at yourself and realize that you are now exposed to the whole party. But Arthur immediately takes off his jacket and lays it overtop of you as you sit nestled safely against Dutch who is still behind you. And Arthur breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes the threads of alertness brightening your features once again. 

“Get the hell outta here,” Arthur orders the crowd, waving them away with a wide arc of his long arm. “Nothing to see here, just a woman needing some air, is all.”

“Can you stand, miss?” Dutch’s deep voice carries softly over your shoulder and into your ear, anchoring you back to consciousness. 

“I think so,” you venture, although the wavering in your voice is not entirely convincing. Your head is still swimming with confusion, but at least you can breathe now and the pounding in your temples has started to recede. 

Arthur takes your hand again, his other slipping under your arm to guide you to your feet as Dutch carefully steadies you from behind. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you say sheepishly looking up into Arthur’s worried face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Bronte suddenly bellows, finally finding his voice of outrage. “Thank you?! You make a scene in my house and you say ‘thank you?!”

“Easy, leave her be,” Arthur growls out, turning his threatening gaze to the party’s host. “Can’t you see the lady isn’t well?”

“No, she most certainly is not!” Bronte spits back in anger. His heartless, burning eyes now land back on you, his nostrils flaring wildly with impatience as his expression screws up into a hateful scowl. “Nuisance! I knew it was a mistake to bring you here” he hollers at you, flecks of spittle flying in your direction. “Should’ve left you at the station where I found you!” His finger thrown in your face causes you to shrink backwards, leaning your back into Dutch yet again, where the man’s hands protectively come up to cradle your arms. 

But Arthur is not having any of it, protectively placing his large bear-like frame between you and Bronte, towering over the other man and desperately trying to refrain from landing his massive fist into his face. “You best keep that finger to yourself, Mr. Bronte, else I'll break it clean off.” Arthur’s tone is low and deep, his threat making a shutter cascade down your spine as you watch with baited breath for what is to happen next. 

“Get out! All of you! Get! Out!” Bronte screams, waving at the group of newcomers. “And take that bitch with you, too!”

Your heart sinks as you watch the Italian spin on his heels and storm off towards the house, his arms flailing wildly as he vents his frustrations and anger out into the ether. The party has clearly ended now, as the guests murmur and whisper amongst themselves about the outrageous scene and begin to file out of the garden to leave. 

Your head hangs a bit in shame as you nibble nervously on your pink bottom lip, holding Arthur's jacket over your chest like armor. You have no love lost for Angelo Bronte, but the idea that you now have nowhere to go is a little terrifying. You have no money, no provisions. Nothing. 

Arthur turns to look at you, seeing your soft face frozen in stunned silence. His own countenance turns sheepish as he now realizes that he has cost you your home. “Sorry about that,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub behind his neck in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to get you tossed out.”

“Don’t trouble yourself.” You shake your head and place a grateful hand along Arthur’s arm. “You probably did me a favor.” Your smile is warm and forgiving, but it doesn’t make him feel any less responsible for your new predicament. “But I meant what I said, Mr. Morgan. Thank you,” you whisper emphatically. Your gentle voice causes butterflies to flutter in his belly. 

“You have anywhere to go now?” Arthur asks, his blue eyes burning into your own. God, how you could get lost in those eyes for hours. 

Sadly, you shake your head, confirming his suspicions. 

“Well, then,” interrupts Dutch from where he still stands behind you, “If that is the case, you are welcome to come with us, Miss Y/L/N.” He offers you another of his charming smiles as he holds open Arthur’s jacket as you slide your arms in, and he pulls the oversized garment protectively over your shoulders. He then offers you his arm to escort you away from the party, with his entourage in tow. 

Arthur gives a lofty eye-roll to the heavens at Dutch’s attempt to swoon you, causing Mr. Matthews to chuckle at the interaction. But you smile graciously at Mr. Van der Linde’s offer as you gladly accept his arm and begin to walk with him. You look back over your shoulder and give Arthur a demure little grin, which he returns as he follows you and Dutch out to the front of the property towards the awaiting carriages with Mr. Matthews and Mr. Williamson close behind. 

“Thank you, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you smile brightly up at him. “I just may have to take you up on that offer.” 

Masterlist for more Arthur goodness

Taglist: @appalachiancowboy99 @rivetingrosie4

[tomssexdoll]

HI

okay so y/n asks 2009-2010 tom to go to a party with her friend but tom doesnt allow, so she goes there secretly. at the end of the party tom waits y/n with his black lambo looking real mad and then he fucks her real hard because she basically escaped (do this like real rough and mean) (ONLY IF U WANT TO BTWW!!)😭

yess!

Brat taming

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF SYPNOSIS: Y/N wants to go to a friends birthday party but Tom knows that there will be a bunch of guys there and ones that he really didn't like. Y/N is really upset but decides to play it cool so she can sneak out later, she wasn't going to miss her friends birthday cause of Tom. A/N: AHHH WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), rough fingering, overstimulation, degrading

"Hey Tom, I'm going to my friends party tonight" I approached him as he cooked us lunch, he furrowed his eyebrow "which friend?" turning his head to face me, "casandra" I smiled and hugged his waist from behind.

He grunted, "the one who knows every single guy I hate" I rolled my eyes "Tom it's fine, they probably won't be there" he turned around and towered over me "no, you aren't going, I know what she's like and I know what those guys are like" he growled lowly.

"Tom! That's not fair it's her birthday!" I whined, he grabbed my arm softly "I said no, nothing you say will convince me, sit down and eat" he sighed.

I hesitated for a second but obliged, he was right, nothing would convince him, but that doesn't mean I don't have other ways. I kept my cool so he wouldn't suspect me of doing anything later in the night.

After dinner we cleaned up and watched a movie, I tried to make everything as smooth as possible and texted casandra my plan, we had decided that 12am would be the best time for me to arrive and that I'd call an uber.

As the movie finished I acted sleepy, slouching on him. I felt his arms wrap around me and lift me up, "time for bed baby.." he chuckled and carried me to the bed, plopping me on there and coming up behind me, spooning me tightly. "Goodnight..." I mumbled, my facade working perfectly.

"Goodnight baby girl, sleep well" he kissed the top of my head, nuzzling his face into my neck.

As Tom layed asleep, I slowly peeled his arms off me, getting up from the bed and slipping on the dress I had hid beside the bed. He slowly woke up, tossing and turning "mm, baby where are you going.." he mumbled.

I cursed under my breath and turned to face him, luckily it was dark so he couldn't see the outfit I was in right now. "Just going to the bathroom baby go back to sleep.." I whispered and walked into the bathroom, quickly doing my makeup and hair.

As I opened the door I heard Tom softly snoring, I sighed, feeling a bit guilty but knew I had to go to this party, after all it was my friends birthday.

I slowly walked to the window, opening it quietly and jumping out. There was grass on the bottom so it didn't make a lot of noise, then I quickly slipped my heels on and ran off, jumping into my uber.

I arrived at her house, music blasting from the inside, vibrating the ground. I stepped inside and greeted casandra, handing her a bottle of vodka I had stopped to get on the way as a present. She smiled brightly and kissed my cheek, running to her bedroom and stashing it there. As she came back she hugged me, "oh thank you so much that is my favourite brand of vodka" I chuckled "yeah I knoww, but why did you lock it away, aren't you gonna drink it tonight?" she scoffed "no way! That is special and it's expensive so I'm keeping it for myself" she tapped my chin teasingly, I smiled and apprecited what she'd done.

As the night strung along, I had 3 cocktails and 4 shots, I was pretty drunk but not too drunk and decided to leave it at that, I wanted to talk with people and have fun, not be blackout drunk and possibly get kidnapped.

I talked to multiple people, some of the guys Tom hated weren't that bad, they were respectful and really nice. The conversation never turned sexual and always focused on goals and achievements.

TOMS POV:

I woke up to a cold breeze hitting me, confused, thinking I had left the window open. I went to get up but realized Y/N wasn't in bed with me, I remember her getting up for the toilet but that was ages ago..wasn't it?

I checked the time and it was 4am, I got up and checked the bathroom, nothing, the kitchen, nothing, the living room, nothing.

Then it sparked and I realized what she had done, I shouldn't of fell for it, she acted too calm about the situation. Usually she'd get really upset and argue with me about it for hours but she was pretty accepting of it.

I rubbed my temples in frustration, anger coursing through my body. "For fuck sakes..she's in so much fucking trouble" I grunted and grabbed my keys, slamming the front door and getting into my car, speeding off to this shitty party.

Y/NS POV:

At this point the party was pretty much finished, everyone was either passed out in various spots around the house or had gone home. I decided to go outside and have a cigarette with the guy I was talking to. We talked about high school and all the stupid things we did.

As I was taking a drag of my cigarette I suddenly heard crackling sounds, screeching of tires filling the air, I rolled my eyes and assumed it was some stupid teenagers doing burnout, but I listened more closely, a small squeeking noise, the noise that hit too close to home.

A sound that would only come from Tom's car, my eyes widened as I realised I had been caught, there was no way I was going to be able to walk tomorrow. I thought I successfully got away with it.

I watched as Tom's car came to a halt, his dark figure emerging from the car and storming over towards me. When the light illuminated his face I saw the pure rage and disgust in his eyes, his fists clenched at his sides and his chest heaving up and down.

"Why the fuck did you sneak out" he yelled "and why the fuck are you with him?" he scoffed, mocking the guy. He just rolled his eyes and walked off, giving me a 'goodluck' look.

"I knew you weren't going to be convinced with anything I said so I took matters into my own hands" I said non chalantly, shrugging my shoulders. I saw anger flash in his eyes, he grabbed my arm roughly "I'm not fucking dealing with your attitude, wait till we get home" he growled lowly, dragging me to the car.

No matter how angry he was, Tom never ever hit me, not a single finger or anything. He wasn't so rough with me to the point where I was bruised or hurt. Yes, he can be rough at times but the thought of hurting me has never crossed his mind.

He shoved me in and got into the drivers seat, starting the car and speeding off back home. I slouched in my seat, "I wasn't going to miss my friends birthday party because you don't approve of a group of guys, they weren't even bad, they were so nice to me" crossing my arms, his grip tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenching roughly.

"Shut up, you dont know what they're capable of" he pulled into the driveway, I got out of the car and slammed the door, walking inside the house. I set down my things on the couch and sat down, sighing deeply. My head was throbbing from all the alcohol, Tom emerged into the room and looked down at me "go to the bedroom and strip, now" he demanded, his tone cruel and dark.

I scoffed "no, I'm going to sit here and watch a movie and then go to bed" he chuckled angrily and grabbed me, pulling me closer to him. He towered over me, looking at me threateningly "do as your told or you won't be able to walk at all tomorrow" I sighed in defeat and walked upstairs, stepping into our shared bedroom, taking my dress off.

I threw it to the side and clipped my bra off, sliding my panties off, disposing of those too. I sat on the bed and waited for him, nervous and excited for what awaited me.

I heard Toms heavy footsteps coming closer, he stormed into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "Always acting like a fucking brat" he walked towards me, pulling me up and smashing his lips into mine, I moaned into the kiss, giving him access to shove his tongue into my mouth.

Our tongues fought for dominance, his hand sliding down to my ass and giving it a harsh smack, I yelped and pulled away. His head buried into the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking harshly, leaving marks everywhere, "you're mine.." he growled, pushing me onto the bed harshly, climbing on top of me and loosening his belt, taking his pants off in a hurry, rage still filled in his eyes.

"Can't even listen to me, you have to act out" he reached out and grabbed my thighs pulling them closer towards him, I felt his clothed erection press against my aching pussy, "mm..please.." I mumbled, begging for his cock.

He grabbed my hair roughly, tugging on it, "don't be impatient, or you'll get nothing" he spat, I whined as I watched him pull his cock out. It stood tall, throbbing and super veiny.

"You're going to take it like the fucking slut you are, ok?" he demanded, grabbing my chin roughly to face him, I nodded and bit my lip, feeling his tip tease my entrance.

I knew I couldn't complain, all I had to do was sit there and painfully wait for his massive cock to punish me. "Oh fuck!" I cried out as he shoved half of his length in, my pussy resisting his cock. He grunted and grabbed my hips, digging his nails into them and leaving deep marks on the skin, trying to push himself in more.

"Fucking hell" he groaned, spitting on his hands and rubbing it onto the rest of his cock, slowly pushing in and fitting all of himself in me. I felt super full, unable to even think.

"Fuck.." I whispered my head lolling back, he chuckled evily, retracting his cock and slamming it back in, creating a brutal pace, his tip instatly hitting my g spot, abusing it.

"Ah! Too much Tom!" I whimpered, he growled and went faster, "you shouldn't of acted up so much..could've avoided this" his cock rammed in and out of me, my pussy able to handle everything that was happening.

Tom was pretty big, 8 inches. Even when he was gentle it hurt. But he always made sure I was ok, I guess this time was different, his cock balls deep in me, pounding into me mercilessly.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure, my clit was aching, desperate for attention. I cried out, grabbing one of his hands and moving it to his clit, he chuckled "so needy huh? my cock can't satisfy you enough?" his fingers latching onto my clit and rubbing rough circles.

"Such a slut.." he mumbled, growing more and more impatient. "You're so lucky, I give you everything and yet you still fucking act out", I whimpered "sorry..", he rolled his eyes "sorry won't cut it" his grip loosening on my hips and removing a hand off my clit, moving to my breasts, squeezing them tightly.

I moaned as his fingers grazed over my sensitive nipples, wrapping my legs around his waist and bringing him in closer, the pleasure hitting me in intense waves, making me arch my back.

Tom grinned as I arched my back, his head diving into my tits, sucking them cruely, his teeth biting my nipples softly.

I felt a knot building in my stomach, slowly coiling down to my core, his hips slapping against mine in a rhythmic pattern, he took me hard and fast, his breath came in ragged gasps as his release built up.

"Cum with me baby.." he growled, catching my lips in a rough kiss. I kissed him back, his tongue slipping into my mouth. With every powerful thrust, he relished the feeling of my body wrapping around him like a second skin. "Holy fuck...gonna cum" he groaned, my tight walls clenching around his cock sent waves on pleasure coursing throughout his body.

With one last brutal thrust he emptied himself in me, painting my walls white. Shortly after his orgasm I came too, my body shuddering as i did.

He slowly pulled out, crawling behind me on the bed and grabbing me, pulling me closer. I felt his cock pressed up against my back and his fingers slithering around to my pussy, sliding 2 figits in my pussy and pushing our cum back in.

I whimpered, the overstimulation setting in, "tommy no! too much!" I complained, tears falling down my cheeks, "shut up.." he said coldly, thrusting his fingers in roughly, curling his fingers at my g spot.

"Cum for me again.." he growled, slamming his fingers in and out. I was so wet that the wrong move would send his fingers flying out of me. He held me tightly and reached his thumb up to rub my clit.

I was becoming super overstimulated, the pleasure way too much for me. "Tom!" I cried out, nearing another orgasm.

"Cmon!" he shouted, pounding my pussy with his fingers, my pussy clenched again, engulfing his fingers. "Fuck yeah.." he muttered, teasing my g spot.

"Mmm! Gonna cum!" I cried out, cumming all over his fingers, whimpering as the orgasm hurt a little. He pulled his fingers out, licking the juices off clean.

He looked down at me, my body shaking and my eyes droopy, "oh baby..you're so sleepy" he chuckles, grabbing my small frame and laying us properly on the bed, holding me tight.

"This is what happens when you disobey me baby..you know that" he sighed, "when will you learn" he stroked my hair softly as I fell asleep in his arms.

tags: @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @syylss @charliesgoodboy @ge-billsgf @20doozers @miyukafujii @bkaulitzlover @ballhair

[bindeds]

HIII CAN U DO VOX X FEM!READER AND THE ONLY ONE BED TROPE THING?? I LOVE UR WORK BTWW🫂🫂

thank you so much, I’m really glad you do! Thanks for the love guys, I’m so sorry I’ve been falling off writing recently but this was kinda fun to write hehe, hope you don’t mind that I put my own spin to it!

mlist. requests.

             ꩜  ﹒     LOVE     HOTEL.   — vox ×   gender   neutral   reader.

wc. 1k. tags.   suggestive ,   mentions  of  fingers  around  sensitive  areas  ,   vox  is  pro  consent  omg  wow  ,   catching  you  almost  naked  ,   making  out  ,   fluff  ,   both  reader  and  vox  being  adorable

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Truly a strange question to ask.

Though, ‘strange’ and ‘Vox’ were never bound for the same sentence. No one would believe you if you’d ever tried to tie Vox down with such a word. No, not when you both laid in a red—or maybe pink, the colors were ever shifting just as the room had been in your slightly drunken state—tinted room.

Sirens wailed in the muffled distance, hell’s white noise slipping through closed windows as you laid on your back in bed. The room’s air conditioning was just starting to seep into your skin now, and when you touch your arm it’s almost electric how you don’t feel cold but your flesh does.

You can taste the stale air when you dampen your lips with a brief swipe of your tongue.

“No, I just … I didn’t think I’d be checking into a love hotel with, well—you, of all people.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m nobody, Vox. And you’re … you’re whatever your audience wants you to be.”

“Alright. This is getting personal,” Vox grunted as he rose from the bed, almost like a dressed corpse coming to life before he disappeared into the bathroom.

“Showering?”

“Mhmm,” he called from beyond the door he left ajar.

Your clothes clung to your previously sweat-slick skin. It had been your time now to sit up as you got up from your bed to change out of your shirt. The robes would have probably done just fine, at least, it wouldn’t retain the smell and memory of the night you spent with a man you’d just met. Oh god, you heard yourself think that as if the night had ended.

Your pants had completely been kicked off to the floor by now as you wandered over to the closet. You caught the brief second of darkness within before the lights flickered to action, presenting you with a pink robe with furry white lapels with hearts that trailed down them.

“Hey have you—”

You turn to your left and freeze up completely. The alcohol in you made a poor attempt at shooting up your system but it didn’t mean that it hadn’t rattled you just as much as the current situation had … oh god.

Vox’s eyes briefly zip down where they shouldn’t, and god, you thanked whoever had clearly possessed this headache-inducing room that you still had your undergarments on but neither of you had been inclined to move.

Finally, you rolled your eyes, then quickly regretted the motion that took your head for a spin before you scoffed.

“Vox. Please.”

“Please what, dear?”

“A love hotel, really?” You finally let out the question held within the grasp of what withered self restraint you had left.

“I called up Vel and Val, the tit fuckers used my house for their stupid dinner party. Said they had a deal to close and my house was apparently the least trashed. And anyway, this is the best love hotel on this side of the pentagram, and …”

Vox’s hand crawled up the closet door where your hand still rested.

He ran the tip of his index finger down your forearm. The faint yet acute touch of his nail guard had you reeling back a shiver you couldn’t let free. You clenched your jaw.

“We did meet at a bar.”

Vox’s eyes had dropped to half-mast now, and it wasn’t as though you hadn’t seen this coming.

“Vox,” you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your complexion. “You’re a handsome guy—”

“Mhmm—”

“But I’m just … not looking for that right now.”

“I know. But I just find it funny that you should say that because … I’m still looking at your incredibly bare body.”

“Underwear.”

“Doesn’t make you any less sexier.”

And you don’t know what came over you in that moment, but your arms crash landed around his neck as you tasted him on your lips, his tongue quick to lap at your mouth as you opened wide for him too.

Your body was too hot on his, his own hardware whirring so loud that you heard it over the moist sounds of your tongues meeting.

Even if you had really thought this over, really, this might have been the worst and best decision you would ever make—worst because you barely know this man and you knew people who smiled for the press were shells of who they once were. Can’t put your tongue into or around something that’s hollow, that’s just wasting time.

But it was the best, because, oh fuck did his fingers feel so goddamn good where they lingered. And he hasn’t even slipped them into your underwear yet.

But you grabbed his wrist at the highest height of your hastened heart and you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Vox looks down at you for a moment, almost as if he’d needed a moment to part with the view before he gave you a little nod.

“Fuck. Okay.”

After you both untangled yourselves from each other, it hadn’t taken very long for you to settle down on the bed, your arms around him as he draped his arms around you as well, adjusting your duvets to cover you up nicely as he rubbed your shoulders.

“You cold?”

“No. You?”

“I’m just fine. You keep me overheating, you know.”

“Oh, Vox, you have such a way with words!” You dramaticized, and you chuckled almost like a small child but his shoulders shook as he joined you.

“Fuck you. It wouldn’t have been bad if we fucked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t kiss and tell, sweetheart.”

“Of course not. Vox shooting his load in sinner trash? Oh god, what will the papers say?” You had begun to think you were getting too good at this.

“Oh, darling.”

Vox’s hands left your body only to arrive at your chin as he angled it to face him.

“You’re not sinner trash.”

“Is that so?”

“My dear if the exterminations rained down today, they would have taken you back.”

taglist : @garfieldthomas @lvstyangel (dm me if you wanna be in the taglist <3)

[pandorasfavorite]

STOP OMG HI, yk the promo the tjd had with Santos and this new group or whatever. N how Dom didn't tell the judgement day , can the reader also be in there and jd doesn't have to exist that's up to you but can you do something like the reader notices how the girl with the pony tail i think her name was elektra lopez but like she was flirting with dominik right infront of the reader and the reader gets jealous and ignores dom the whole night? YOU CAN MAKE UP THE REST BUT THATS ALL TYY I LOVE YOUR WORK BTWW

Petty Antics

AN: Am I the only one who hates re-reading my work for mistakes? It makes me want to propel off of a bridge or sum. Thank you for loving my work- I love you 🩷.

“Hey! What’s up guys!”, Dominik throws his hands up and smiles when they walk in. Santos greets Dominik while everyone stands back and watches with overflowing confusion. You most of all. When he pulls back you smack him on the chest and scold him, “You didn't tell us we had company”. Everyone else nods and Rhea glares at Santos's group. While you are staring at this new group of people (that only Dominik knew), Damian pulls him to the side by the arm. However when you see the angry look and a vein popping out on Damian’s forehead; you start to watch more closely. You really hated the hard grip he had on Dominik’s arm out of the whole situation so far. It’s clear Dominik was embarrassed to be confronted in front of his friends and nervous by the encounter. So when he walked back over with a jittery look you couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on his arm. “You’ve done it now”, Rhea also scolds him. 

Dominik looks at you, “Mami, can you talk to Priest? Tell him not to get so mad?”, he asks and rocks on his feet nervously. You bite your lip and consider how you would talk to him, but you know it would come better out of Rhea’s mouth. You turn to look at her with an exhausted expression, “Could you?”. Her shoulders drop a bit but she agrees anyway and she talks to Dom again, “We need to get this communication back under control”. She reminded him with no room for argument. Quite frankly you had to agree with her, out of everyone you thought Dominik would tell you. After all, you were his soon-to-be wife, and keeping secrets was a quick ticket to trouble. Now it was your turn to reprimand him, “Communicate okay? Now deal with your friends”. 

He rubbed a hand over his mouth while you sternly spoke to him. He hated it when you were mad at him with a burning passion. It was one of the worst things he had to endure. “Everyone! Meet Judgment Day! Mami, Rhea, Finn, JD”, you glare at the group; not hiding your dislike. You cross your arms and stay closed off much like the rest of the group. From beside you, Rhea is in her own world as you were, until a hand reaches out to touch you. You smack the guy's hand away, “Don’t touch me” you grit. When you said that Dominik’s smile dropped and he looked at the guy, ‘hey hey’ he peered through him. The same guy put his hands up and smiled at you and Dominik both. At that, Dominik lightened up again but you refused. At this point, you thought nothing could make this situation worse. 

From that point on Dominik spent his time trying to entertain his friends while you stood beside Rhea and Finn to the side of you. Of course, JD lingered in the back not saying a word; just as you liked it. You found solace in standing beside your friends without looking at your Finance spend his time with people he barely knew. But when Rhea whispered in your ear to “look up”, you could’ve burst into flames. Elektra or whoever the fucks she was reached out and touched Dominik’s hair. In other words, she was trying to take your man on how he looked. Dominik’s nose scrunched up at the interaction and just stepped back not paying much attention to it after that. He moved away from her and tried to continue what he was doing. What you would’ve preferred was for him to call you over; especially considering the fact you were 10 feet away. Then not even 2 minutes after he shifted away from her she was reaching out to trace the tattoos on his arm. 

This had to be a joke; like someone had to be playing a prank on you for this to actually be happening. Now you personally wouldn’t consider yourself a jealous person; others happen to disagree. But only yours and Dominik’s opinion matters really. And when Dominik agreed that you were a jealous person; you had tried to dial it back for his sake. Though bitches stay pissing you off. Some things are so clearly flirtatious and should not be said. Originally you had believed that every woman had a good sense of right and wrong, but this girl Elektra didn’t seem to understand. And on that note, no matter how dramatic it may have been; you took Rhea’s hand and stormed out of the room together. You slammed the door to the point it rattled on the hinges. 

From inside the room, everyone’s eyes went dime-size, and Dominik whipped his head around to find you. Only for the realization to dawn on him that you were the one who left in a hurry. He sputtered out an excuse to leave quickly and threw open the door to follow after you. You had just made it around the corner of the long hallway, when you hear Dominik yelling after you. Rhea turns to you with wide eyes, “What are you gonna do?” she says in a hushed whisper. You cross your arms and stick your chin up, “Be petty and ignore him”. You hear his yells get closer and your exposure drops. Dominik skids around the corner and sighs a breath of relief when he sees you. He jogs up to you and spins you around by the waist to face him, you have to fight the urge to smile on instinct. “Why’d you leave?”, he commented and looked down at your angry face. 

You push his hands off of you, only to turn to Rhea and whisper in her ear. She raises her eyebrows at you but you return with a stern look. She then echoed what you said to her, to Dominik; “She said that she isn't talking to you”. Rhea was quick to turn around and walk away from you both. When she turned around Dominik put his hands around the sides of your stomach. “Mami”, he drawled and kissed your cheek sweetly. You turned away from the kiss and averted your gaze. Dominik was already getting so desperate for your attention. He tries to kiss your cheek but his lips chase after you when you move away. Now Dominik is practically pouting when he follows after you down the hallway and back into the very room you stormed out of. 

There everyone was sitting down and waiting for the group appearance in 2 hours. Normally the waiting game was already boring as is. But for Dominik, it felt like hell. When he’d sit beside you, you’d scooch away and smack his hands away when he tried to touch you. Committed to the end. He stared at you with crossed arms and listened to you talk to Finn with no issues. He was jealous of everyone else you talked to. Finn walked away to play darts with Finn and instantly Dominik was pressed against your side, whispering in your ear. “If you talk to me, we can go into the bathroom”, he said and you could practically feel his smirk against the side of your face. You turned to look at him with a sharp glare, only to turn away from him again with no words. He sunk into the couch with a groan, it was giving toddler. 

When it came time to go out into the stadium, Dominik pulled you to the side in the hallway on the way there. “Princesa, talk to me”, he murmured as he kissed the side of your neck. You pushed him back by the head and his shoulders dropped. Before you could turn around he pulled you back to him, “Baby what did I do?” he breathed. Only to be ignored once again. It could probably be read on Dominik’s face how annoyed and frustrated he was getting. He was used to talking and hugging you anytime you had been around. But all his questions were answered when a clip from earlier came up on the big screen. They aired your pissed-off expression while he was paying attention to Santo’s group. The light switch went off in his head when he looked over to you and the disgusted look on your face at rewatching it. 

Therefore when you all walked back and out of the eyes of thousands, he really gave you no choice when it came to pulling you into an empty room. He took you into the room and closed the door. Then instantly took your hands in his, and sunk to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you and began to apologize, “I’m sorry mami. I should’ve kicked them all out when she did that, but I was trying to make a connection for The Judgment Day. That’s no excuse though, I’ll do better. You’re my one and only mi amor” he enunciated. The apology was perfect, he knew what he did wrong and him being on his knees surely did help. You stay quiet for a minute and Dominik’s face drops, “Mami you're killing me here” he murmured and put his head on your thighs. You put your hand in his hair so he would look up, “I think that was the best apology yet” you remark with a smile. He pops up off the floor and kisses you to make up for all the ones you had ignored. 

[neon-psychopomp]

if youre up to it- mayhaps a lil doodle of K9? dunno if anyone has asked already, so sorry if they have :'D

love ur art btww :D

Aww, thank you so much <3 @elmofongo Two requests for K9! This idea came out fully formed the second I saw the first request.

Hope people enjoy it as much as I did.

Kofi | Inprnt | Cara

[thoughtformchoreographer]

Mermay? More like MerMARCH

Happy mermayyy!! :) I wwanna do more art pieces for it LOL, mermaids are so fun to draww...

This is unrelated to the blog btww, I just really wwanna draww some sea dwwellers this month. PLS zoom in btww, I put so much effort into the smaller details this time!

Sorry for being sloww wwith Asks btww :( I'vve been super stressed out wwith college and other affairs, so I'll be answwering stuff at my owwn pace <:) thank you all for understanding!

ALSO also, I might do some more Erisolkat stuff soon since so many people liked it!!! <3 thanks guyss!!

[newkatzkafe2023]

ITS MEEEE IM BACK WITH THE MILK!! THIS ADHD GIRL BACK :33

An S/O (Female) of the Monkey King's (Like reader is girlfriend of the different Monkey Kings), who acts and haves the personality of the first chapter of bfb like FOUR from Bfdi, but they have the same behaviour that Four once had when they made their first appearence in the show, yk, Powerful, Literally Destroys and screechs everything that just breathes the air in a slightly wrong way. How each one will react?

I literally love Four and X and i had to make an request about something similar to Four.

God... i imagine how troublemaker and powerful the Reader willbe with the powers of four, yet they dont know it since they are too dumb to realize (like four)

I love bfdi (Battle for dream island) <333

BTWW HII!! ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I REQUESTED AND SRRY, I WAS STUCK PLAYING COOKIE RUN AND STUFF...

______ (literally an interaction)

Random ahh person: "Y/N can you quit your shenanigans and help-"

*The reader lit screeches and makes them pass out*

*Wukong looking all the interaction and how their girlfriend just screeches everyone who even exists in a wrong way*

"D:"

I watched some of this and it's Hilarious and I love his character already🤣

(Lmk Wukong) this is totally him when he has to deal with you. You guys meet in the JTTW and immediately something was very unusual about you. When he aggressively Confronted you the first the thing you did was Screech at him and he woke up on the floor. He was then after that very weary of you after that. Strange things happened around Us in the group after that people even made a legend around us. Even to this day he still doesn't quite get you and your aura but he loves you for it although to the outside looking in people can sense that their is something dark about you for example Macaque and Sandy.

(MKR Wukong) Yooooooooo your Marriage is so Chaotic and Unusual that you make him For once want to be a responsible person. Your antics are so unpredictable that even The monk doesn't know your next mood. And you have stun people with your Screeching and it was funny until it happened to him. And more weird things have happened around you such as stretching your limbs, you bing able to manifest out of thin air and warp and mutilate demons from a distance. You love scaring both Pigsy and Sandy but you love Wukong and Fruity. But There is very dark thing about you and it worries the monk even after the journey.

(HIB Wukong) You....You are a terrible influence to both Luier and Silly girl Especially Silly girl. Silly girl screeches alot thanks to you and Luier is asking even more questions then ever with every Chaotic phenomena and he has to find some way to deal with it. But on the bright side You care very much for him and the kids but he always finds some interesting about you and it frightens and enlightens him.

(NR Wukong) Chaos Chaos CHAOS PEOPLE🤯🤯🤯. Wukong is tamed compared to you. From your Random Screeching to you weird quirks and abilities to the crazy sh*t you say and ask and do. He loves it but it slowly starts to disturb him because you seem to be unaware of what you can do and of what happens around you. And he if starts to get Careful and cautious of you well.... that's when Li and Su become alarmed by you as well.

(Netflix Wukong) He can match your energy like a puzzle piece. He quickly learns that you love to play games and are quite the free spirit and the best part is you never judge him on what he says and do. In fact you totally encourage it but Lin quickly points out our rather unusual life. We of course never give her a Straight answer on to what's going on but she's worried and a little suspicious of you. But As for Wukong he loves spending every day with you and loves your quirky self Sure he can do without the screeching , but he doesn't want you to ever change.