#things i definitely Want but can live without for now: glow in the dark or heat sensitive paint; fancy gold trim for jacket;

[sol1loqu1st]

hmmmm i thought i had a game to gm today but we'd actually planned it for the 18th and i just forgot, so perhaps i will go to a craft store and acquire Cosplay Things after grocery shopping

[koolades-world]

Demons and Humans not understanding each other

Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos

this is mostly mammon freaking out

Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind

“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”

“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”

Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.

“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”

“I’m sweating with this one jacket”

“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”

“no I don’t think you will”

On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive

“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”

“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”

“Everything except the part where I boil alive”

“what!”

Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card

“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”

“Asmo I feel funny”

“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”

“FUCK NOT AGAIN”

In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it

“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”

“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”

“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”

“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”

“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”

I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t

Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them

“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”

“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”

(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)

Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that

“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”

“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”

“I’m sorry, you played what?”

“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”

“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”

“HE WHAT”

“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive

[pinksturniolo]

Genie In A Bottle

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader Blurb

summary: Matt’s been having trouble falling asleep the past few nights. He’s tried everything, from white noise, to melatonin, to chamomile tea. So Nick helps him out by giving him a new sleep aid supplement that’s been getting popular lately. Zzztime. But he fails to mention just how strong the effects can really be…

content warnings: smut, suggestions of drug use, wet dream, fantasy fem character, needy!matt, oral male receiving, male masturbation

9 p.m.

Nick places the purple coated pill in Matt’s hand, as he eyes him suspiciously.

“This is the little thing everyone’s raving about?” He says, looking down at his hand. It’s small, easy enough to swallow, with a Z imprinted on the front of it.

Nick nods, a smile across his face. “Trust me, it works wonders. I was asleep in seconds.”

Matt opens his water bottle in his other hand, but hesitates before taking the pill.

“What’s exactly in this thing anyway?” he questions.

Nick shrugs, sitting back down on his bed and flipping the TV on. “I dunno, some kind of vitamin zinc or some shit that helps you sleep. It’s a supplement Matt, not a drug.”

Whatever, doesn’t hurt to try. Matt thinks and swallows the purple pill.

“Although I did have some crazy dreams last time I took it…” Nick says once the pill has gone down Matt’s throat, absorbing into his blood stream.

“Oh, thanks for that information right after I take the stupid thing.” Matt responds, walking out of his room.

Nick simply rolls his eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

10 p.m.

Matt lies in his bed, the lights off and the room dark except for the glow of his TV.

It’s been an hour since he took the supplement and he doesn’t feel sleepy at all.

What a scam. He thinks, pulling the comforter closer around him. He has no idea as to why he’s been having such trouble falling asleep lately.

He’s almost ready to just give up trying and go bother Nick in his room again when he hears laughter coming from the living room.

It’s a woman’s laugh, light and airy like the sound of bells.

Does Chris have a girl over?

Usually he would let his brothers know if that was the case.

He hears more of her laughter, the sound drawing him out of his bed with curiosity now. He pads over to his door, pressing his ear against it.

“One wish….”

He hears the feminine voice whisper as if it’s directly in his hear. The sound has his heart starting to race in his chest. But there’s no one in the room except him.

He feels an urge to see who it is that’s laughing, the voice he hears unfamiliar but strangely welcoming.

So, he cracks open his door, peering down the hallway. From his bedroom he can see a figure on the large white couch but can’t quite make out who it is.

And he doesn’t see Chris or Nick around. His curiosity is overpowering now as he walks out of his bedroom, closing his door and heading towards the couch.

The closer he gets, he can see it’s definitely a woman. But he has no clue who it is. He’s never met her before.

She sits on the couch, making eye contact with Matt once he’s close enough. She’s attractive and has a certain aura that pulls him in immediately.

“One wish.” She repeats in an alluring tone.

“Uh- excuse me?” Matt responds, utterly confused at this whole situation. “Who are you?”

She smiles and the warmth that radiates from her vibrates through Matt. Usually he would be alarmed at a stranger in his living room, maybe even a little scared.

But he’s drawn in, encapsulated with her presence. There’s something about her he just can’t put a finger on.

She motions for him to sit next to her and he does, his body moving without hesitation.

Once he’s close, she places her lips near his ear, breathing out the words again, “One wish.”

Matt’s heart is now pounding, as she moves down his neck, her lips brushing the skin lightly. A nervous chill erupts through him and he’s frozen in his seat, unable to move.

“Anything you want…” she says again and presses a feather of a kiss to the side of his neck.

Matt squeezes his eyes shut, his cock starting to harden in his sweats. This feels like a dream.

However, he doesn’t even remember falling asleep. It’s still night time, the moon light shining through the living room window.

But he feels the arousal course through his veins from the woman next to him, her energy sensual and her touch on his skin hot and filling him with need.

“Anything I want?” He finds himself saying in response and he feels her smile against his neck. “Anything, Matt.”

She runs her lips down the nape of his neck, her tongue trailing behind. He inhales sharply at the feeling as she then places her hand over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Shit..” he breathes, her hand massaging him with light pressure.

To be fair, Matt hasn’t been touched in a while. Even in the state he’s in now, his need for some help is apparent.

“I know what you want.” The female voice tells him and suddenly she’s kneeled on the floor in front of him, her mysterious gaze peering up.

His jaw is slacked open, a thrill running through him as she pulls his pants down. She drags her fingers through his happy trail, resting at the band of his boxers.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” she asks and he’s nodding, his breath quickening as she pulls his aching cock out of his boxers.

Matt knows he’s in a trance, a state of dreamy bliss and all he can feel right now is that he so desperately needs to be touched, to be taken care of.

He sighs heavily as she wraps her soft lips around his tip, swirling his pre cum around him, her tongue sliding down his shaft. He leans against the couch, his legs spreading out as she takes him into her mouth.

The warm and wet feeling of it has him groaning out loud, his fingers twitching as he has the urge to grab her hair. Her lips rub against the ridges of his veins, her tongue swirling as she bobs her head on him.

She removes her mouth from him with a pop, her hand replacing it as she wraps it around his shaft, pumping up and down. “You can touch me Matt. Go ahead.” she coaxes. Her voice is like velvet, getting his blood pumping with lust.

Matt’s eyes are hooded, his mouth still hung open in disbelief that this is even happening. He wraps his hands into her silky hair, as she takes all of him again, his tip brushing the back of her throat.

This has his hips bucking up, deep moans spilling from his mouth. Her nose brushes his pelvis as he leads her head now, his hand resting atop.

The slurping and slight gagging sounds are filthy and have Matt in absolute pleasure, his thighs tensing as she runs her hands along them.

He’s already close, teetering on the edge of release as he pants relentlessly, tugging on her hair.

She then comes up for air, jerking him with her soft hand again, spitting on the tip. “So big, Matt. You’re such a good boy, why don’t you let it all go.”

Fuck.

He throws his head back, giving into the blissful feeling as she takes him deep into her throat again, so tight and warm.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ he rasps, his body hot and sweaty as he feels his resolve slipping.

Before he knows it, he’s releasing hot spurts of cum in her mouth, whimpering and panting with noises of pleasure.

9 a.m.

Matt’s eyes shoot open, the harsh sunlight making him squint. He’s a little out of breath, beads of sweat on his forehead as he rubs his face, leaning up a little.

He was laying on his stomach and pushes himself up with his arms as he feels a strange sensation below him.

His dick throbs with the aftershocks of an orgasm and it clicks in his head once he feels the sticky mess on his sheets underneath him.

He was rutting his hips against the mattress only moments ago, getting himself off from a wet dream.

He sighs as he stands up from the bed, stripping himself of his now dirty boxers and pulls on a new pair, proceeding to pull the sheets from his bed to go wash them.

He hears a knock on his door, followed by Nick’s voice. “Good morning! I take it the pill worked well for you?”

You have no idea.

taglist <3

(if you would like to be added/taken off pls reply to this post or my masterlist. and if u weren’t mentioned it wouldn’t let me tag you :/ )

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturniololoco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @bambi-slxt @75sturn @mattscoquette @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife

[swanimagines]

SOMEONE TO BE SCARED OF | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ex is an asshole. So Morpheus punishes him.

"If I can't have you, no one can."

That's what he had said when you broke up with him. Months of belittling and torment from the man you had foolishly started dating on Valentine's Day. He had felt like a dream, but by the end of February, he had turned to complete opposite of himself. His true self.

Morpheus had succeeded in talking you out of it, he had told you you deserve someone better - seeing how miserable you were now that he let you live on Earth with the man you claimed to love. Eventually, he saw what was happening, and you finally broke down in front of him when he visited your dreams. Morpheus managed to make you break it with your ex, and there, hell began.

Your ex's threat seemed just a childish outburst at first - but then it started turning into worse. Humanity showed its worse side to you. He came to your workplace, started spreading ugly rumors about you and even tried to attack you in broad daylight. You were scared for your life, you tried to go to the police and hide from him, but nothing seemed to work. He always found a new way to torment and bully you.

But without your knowledge, Morpheus had started to work on actions what he'll do to your tormentor for making you scared like that. He had cared about you for a long time, more than a boss should care about his employee. In a different way. He had changed a lot during his imprisonment, so much that he had eventually accepted your wish to live on Earth, he had let you to fall in love with someone else than him. Even through his jealousy. He felt like your current situation was his fault too - he should have checked the man's dreams, he would have found out his real nature from them. But he also knew it would have been creepy if he had done it. But he still should have known.

He was fixing that mistake right now. Your harasser would be left scared and alone, unable to get anyone else fall for him ever again.

"Who are you?" the man snarled the moment he saw Morpheus standing by his bedside. "Creep, get out of my house!"

Morpheus smiled, and the man got a look as if something snapped within him, as he lost all power over his own body. A partial sleep paralysis was an excellent way for things like these.

"I am someone you should be scared of," Morpheus replied. "You will leave everyone you torment alone."

Morpheus knew the man was desperately trying to find some way to escape, but he was glued into his bed, forced to watch Morpheus loom over him.

"I can make you suffer," Morpheus whispered. "Or you can end this here."

The man just stared at him, taking in short breaths.

Morpheus reached forward and grabbed the man's neck, squeezing it tightly until his eyes bulged out.

"This is what happens to men who mess with people who love them," Morpheus said softly. "You're a fool, you don't know any better. You think you can try to scare them?"

"No," the man finally squeaked. "No, I won't contact them anymore, please, I promise I won't."

Morpheus stared at the man, his eyes glowing brightly in the dark. "You won't. And if I hear you have, I will curse you with nightmares for the rest of your life."

With that, Morpheus was gone and the man was released from his paralysis, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his spine. For a moment, he wondered if it was real or just a nightmare, but he definitely didn't want to find out. He got so scared that he dropped everything and moved out of town - and never again he mistreated anyone in his life.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[justagalwhowrites]

The Campaign - A TSATS One Shot

You're doing your part to get out the vote and Joel is doing his part to protect you while you do. AKA Bodyguard!Joel beats the shit out of a Trump voter.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel Miller x Movie Star!Female Reader (from The Savage and the Sanctuary)

CW: Joel beating the shit out of a Trump supporter. That's it, that's the fic. Also mentions of the misery that's befallen us since Trump and all the general misogynistic bullshit of this Godforsaken timeline. No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.1k

A/N: Look. I desperately want to beat the shit out of everyone I see wearing a MAGA hat but, unlike (my version of) Joel, I'm not a 6'5" man with years of experience beating the shit out of people so I can't. Wishing exactly what they voted for on every Trump voter there is and then this too because they deserve it. OK ENJOY LOVE YOU!

Joel was about ready to strangle you. 

Why the fuck you’d volunteered to go out and try to get a bunch of fucking college kids to vote was beyond him. Sure, he knew the election was important, but did that really mean you needed to personally go try to talk to as many idiots as possible in an unsecured area? 

He ground his teeth. You were standing on campus, surrounded by a mob of 20-somethings, each with their fucking phone in hand so he couldn’t even tell if someone was holding a goddamn weapon. Anything was safer than this and yet, here you were, doing it anyway. 

“Can I get a selfie?” One girl asked, practically glowing at the sight of you. 

“Of course!” You said and you smiled and put your face next to hers so she could take a photo. “Can I convince you to vote in the upcoming election? We really need voices like yours to be heard loud and clear.” 

“Definitely,” she said. “I already have a plan for getting there!” 

“That’s what we like to hear!” You said. “Just go online, make sure you’re registered and that you know your polling place and the times. Sound good?” 

She didn’t get a chance to respond, a man in a red Trump hat shoving his way through the crowd, pushing a student into and making you stumble. 

“Hey!” Someone in the crowd protested the intrusion but the man ignored him. 

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” The man got in your face. “We don’t want your coastal elite bullshit getting mixed up in our government!” 

Joel went to intervene but you held a hand out, stopping him. He clenched his jaw but obeyed, standing at the ready in case things got out of hand. 

“I understand,” you said gently. “I’d probably be upset, too, if I were you. But it’s my government, too. I live in Austin, I love it here and part of showing that love is getting involved…” 

“I don’t give a shit,” he stepped closer. “Get the fuck out of here and leave our kids alone, you fucking bitch!” 

He went to shove you and Joel stepped in then, putting himself between you and the fucking Trump guy before he could lay a hand on you. The man’s hands ended up square in Joel’s stomach, bouncing off almost comically. 

The man was shorter than Joel and definitely weaker. He tilted his head back to look Joel in the eye, an unkempt beard growing in on his neck, his eyes narrowed.  

“That was a mistake,” Joel said, his voice dark and deep. 

“Joel,” your hand went to his shoulder but he shrugged you off. Yes, he was here to protect you but your almost callus disregard for your own safety made him want to pull his goddamn hair out and now, here you were, ready to just let this asshole off without any consequences. 

And fuck if this man didn’t deserve some fucking consequences.

“Need to you to apologize to the lady,” Joel said. “And take that fuckin’ hat off before I shove it up your ass.” 

“If you think I’m about to just let her indoctrinate a bunch of kids…” 

The man made the mistake of leaning around Joel, starting to reach in your direction, and Joel’s patience was nearing its end. 

He shoved the man back before he even really thought about it, making him stumble and sending college kids scrambling back. 

“Joel -“ your voice was sharper now, but he ignored you. 

“Step back,” Joel said, his hands clenching into fists. “Last warning.” 

“Fuck you,” the man said, stalking up to Joel again. “And fuck that bitch, too.” 

Joel’s fist caught the man off guard, not even getting the chance to flinch before it connected with his face. 

The man cried out, stumbling and disoriented, but Joel stalked after him, catching him on the chin and sending him sprawling to the ground. 

“Joel!” You yelled, but you seemed far away in that moment.

Instead, Sarah seemed close. He thought about the 2016 election, when Trump won and Sarah was all of 12 years old. She’d just started getting interested in shit like politics, she was excited about a woman running for president and Joel’d had to explain to her why someone would say something like “grab ‘em by the pussy” and have half the fucking country voting for him. 

Things had only gotten worse in the years since. He had to explain Brett fucking Kavanaugh to his daughter, had to watch as fucking Nazis burned torches and marched through the streets with her, had to just sit there as assholes like this man in his red goddamn hat tried to make life worse for her. 

Back when he had her, he had a reason to keep his nose clean and stay out of trouble, even when dealing with assholes like this. That reason was gone now and so Joel did what he’d been wishing he could for the last damn decade. 

The man tried to get up from his place on the ground but Joel didn’t let him, all but diving on him, grabbing him by the collar and holding him there so he could land blow after blow on his face. He clumsily tried to swing at Joel but he didn’t even feel it. When that failed, his hands scrabbled over Joel’s arms, trying to pull himself free. It didn’t work, either.

Hitting the man again and again hurt but it was a strangely satisfying kind of hurt, one that felt just and righteous, like Joel was finally doing something that was worthwhile. He was hurting someone who deserved it, he was protecting you, he was defending a world that would have been better for his daughter. 

“Joel!” You pulled hard enough on his shoulder that he was forced to pay attention. He was panting for breath, his knuckles bloody, the man’s face a mess. He looked back toward you, at your wide eyes in your unsettlingly perfect face. You looked afraid, but not of him. You were afraid for him. “You can’t do this, you can’t just… Joel, you have to stop.” 

He dropped the man to the ground where he lay, moaning, cradling his broken face. Joel ripped the hat off his head and he groaned in pain. 

“Should’ve listened,” he said, before holding up the hat. “I’m keepin’ this. Get fucked.” 

You looped your arm around Joel’s waist, pulling him against your side and he could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile on your face as you led him away. 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Vampire Wedding Part 1

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Drake: "I'm home!"

Drake returned from a spontaneous outing late in the evening.

Mitsuki: "Welcome back. You're late. Where have you been?"

Drake: "Well, I stopped by a tavern and got into a lively conversation with some folks there."

After saying that, he grinned and looked at me.

Mitsuki: "Is something wrong?"

Drake: "Nah, I just thought you looked as beautiful as ever, little fawn."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, what's with the sudden compliment? Do you need a favor?"

Drake: "Not a favor, more like an invitation."

Drake: "How about a date on the sea at night?"

Mitsuki: "Eh, date?"

Surprised by the unexpected invitation, he deepened his mischievous smile.

Drake: "I met a generous guy at the tavern who let me borrow his ship."

Drake: "I thought we could have a fancy night cruise. What do you say, Mademoiselle?"

Mitsuki: "Wow, that sounds wonderful! I'd love to go!"

Drake: "That's the spirit."

Drake: "Then, let's go tomorrow. There's something I want to show you."

Mitsuki: "Something you want to show me?"

Drake: "It's a secret."

He winked meaningfully.

Drake: "It's my special treat, so look forward to it."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, got it. I'm really looking forward to it!"

After chatting about various things, I fell asleep without realizing it.

I awoke to a sensation of something touching my cheek.

Drake: ".........."

When I groggily opened my eyes, I saw Drake peering at me, gently stroking my cheek.

Drake: "A blood oath, huh?"

Drake murmured.

(Blood oath?)

I was curious, but my consciousness soon drifted back to sleep.

The next day, I hurried to finish my chores, and by evening, I headed to the port where we had arranged to meet.

(What will a night cruise be like? And what could Drake's special surprise be?)

Vlad: "Bonjour, Mitsuki."

Suddenly, I heard a voice and turned around to see Vlad pulling a flower wagon.

Vlad: "The sun is about to set. Are you going out now?"

Mitsuki: "Yeah, I'm going on a date with Drake tonight."

Vlad: "That sounds great. Have fun."

As he smiled, the words I heard last night crossed my mind.

Mitsuki: "Hey, Vlad. Do you know what a blood oath is?"

He looked surprised for a moment, then smiled softly.

Vlad: "Of course."

Vlad: "A blood oath is a traditional wedding ceremony in the vampire world."

Mitsuki: "A wedding ceremony?"

Vlad: "On the night of the full moon, the groom pledges 'eternity' by biting on the bride's ring finger."

(I never thought it held such significance.)

(But today was definitely a new moon, so it doesn't matter, right?)

Mitsuki: "Thank you for telling me. I should go now."

Vlad: "Yeah, have a good night."

As the sun completely set, the ship smoothly sailed through the dark sea.

Leaning on the railing and gazing at the pitch-black surface of the sea, Drake, who was standing next to me, gently pulled me closer.

Drake: "I've got to hold you so that you don't get pulled into the sea."

With a mischievous grin, Drake made me recall the word "wedding."

(I hope Drake and I can experience that someday.)

I couldn't help but swoon as I dreamed about a future where the two of us were pledging our eternal love.

(Drake probably doesn't want to willingly enter into a blood oath. Besides, the night of the full moon would be difficult due to the bloodlust.)

Drake: "Hey, little fawn? Is something wrong?"

Mitsuki: "Ah..."

Drake's hand gently tapped my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Drake: "Pay attention. The show's about to start."

Mitsuki: "Show? What are you...?"

As I tilted my head in confusion, a streak of pale blue light illuminated the dark sea.

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

The light swiftly spread where I was looking, and the sea surface, which had been pitch black until just now, was now enveloped in a faint glow.

Drake: "This is my special surprise. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Mitsuki: "Yeah, it's amazing. Truly beautiful, but what’s actually happening?"

Enthralled by the waves of light washing over us, I nodded dreamily multiple times.

Drake: "Sailors say that these lights represent the souls of our departed comrades, scattered into the sea."

Drake: "When they spot a ship sailing at sea on a moonless night, they guide it safely back to port."

Mitsuki: "So they're watching over us?"

Drake: "Yeah."

Drake: "And for us, this light holds another special meaning."

Mitsuki: "Another special meaning? What's that?"

Before he answered, he gazed deeply into my eyes.

Drake: "Within this light, sailors traditionally propose to their loved ones."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake’s eyes, as he gazed at me, lacked his usual carefree demeanor.

Drake: “Mitsuki. I want to make you my treasure.”

Drake: “Will you marry me?”

I nodded with a smile, feeling my eyes well up with joy and love at the earnest words that reached straight into my heart.

Mitsuki: “Of course, I’ve been yours for a long time already.”

Mitsuki: “Please always stay by my side.”

Drake: “Mitsuki.”

As he called my name with deep emotion, he embraced me tightly.

I wrapped my arms around his broad back and felt his warm breath.

Drake: “I wish I could say you’re mine forever now, but there’s one more thing we need to do.”

Drake: “We still have something to do on the night of the full moon.”

His words made my heart race.

Mitsuki: “Are you going to make a blood oath?”

I asked nervously, and Drake blinked in surprise.

Drake: “You knew?”

Mitsuki: “Yeah. But are you sure about this? You don’t have to force yourself.”

Drake: “Thanks, Fawn. But there’s no need to worry.”

Drake put his forehead on mine and smiled.

Drake: “I’ll do as I please.”

Drake: “You just have to wait for me to whisk you away.”

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue

[cartoonartistpng]

Dadphiles!Silver Sheet

Technically Silver 2.0 since I wasn't happy with his old design. Now he's far more snazzy.

Silver's eyes glowing aren't a unique feature of this AU, by the way, it's just how I draw him.

This post will be updated as time goes on. New additions will be marked as (✨New!✨). Last update: (Mar 6, 2024)

-> Dadphiles AU Masterpost

-/-/-/-/-

🔹After receiving his dad’s crystal, young Silver was always on the lookout for something to help hide it, knowing the shard would be something a bandit would try to steal. He got into the habit of stuffing it in his chest fur.

🔹Eventually, Silver would find twine to wrap around the crystal and wear as a necklace. As Silver grew older, the twine got smaller. Pre-06, Silver couldn’t take the necklace off even if he wanted, as it could no longer fit over his head. Not without cutting it.

🔹While wearing the crystal, Silver is ignored by Iblis and its monsters for reasons unknown to him. This has led Silver to establish a sort of safe haven for other survivors. Silver’s clothes and cuffs are hand-made gifts from the survivors out of thanks. With Silver’s input, the designs are dedicated to his lost brothers, even with the limited resource options.

🔹 Silver has enhanced sight, mainly being able to see better at night than a normal hedgehog. This is a combination of evolution and his practice of working in darkness. However, his pupil does give off an iridescent glow.

🔹Due to his appearance (blue glow, near-white fur, crescent markings) and his preference for working in the darkness, the survivors of his haven call him “Moon Child”.

🔹Silver only trusts Blaze with the knowledge and, eventually, shares the protection of his father’s crystal.

🔹Like his brothers, Silver believes the three are blood-related. That Sonic is on the other side of the world--far from Iblis' destructive path and a place full of green and blue--and that Shadow is somewhere "made of metal". When his family disappeared, Silver grew determined to find them. Inspired by his speedy brother, he began traveling the world. Yet as the years passed and he found nothing but wastelands, doubt began to creep in. While he never completely gave up, Silver shifted priorities to building a safe haven, not unlike the one he was granted as a kid.

🔹 Also like his brothers, Silver does not remember what his dad looks like or even his name, beyond his eyes and voice. However, he believes this is for his father's safety, who obviously has a powerful ability others would hunt him for. Silver finds this theory perfectly normal.

🔹Silver cannot actually read or write fluently. He recognizes some words, having been taught by Blaze, but it was difficult to find free time between shifts to do so.

🔹Silver had noticed that Blaze was always very poised when standing, sitting, or moving. She explained the concept of “proper manners and etiquette” to him, which only confused him. Regardless, Blaze would often catch Silver trying to emulate her posture.

Post-06 Facts:

🔹(✨New!✨) Silver is far more forgiving of Mephiles' actions than his brothers, mostly because his definition of "wrong" is skewed from living in an apocalypse. His brothers end up having to explain a lot more to Silver than they initially beleived.

🔹Despite being the youngest of the trio, Silver is also the tallest. Coupled with his psychokinesis, it's easy to keep things out of his brothers' reach, much to their annoyance.

🔹Due to a lack of proper food in the future, Silver cannot handle any spices. Sonic is incredibly gutted to learn his brother doesn't like chili dogs.

🔹Silver has a bit of a hoarding problem in the beginning of his life with his brothers, still not used to so much being simply available. This leads to his brothers finding random piles of food and clothes stuffed in odd places around the house.

🔹(✨New!✨) Silver lives in the past with his brothers and cannot travel through time, like Canon!Silver can.

🔹(✨New!✨) Between the events at Soleanna and the loss of his brothers' crystals, Silver grows far more protective over his own crystal.

🔹(✨New!✨) Following Sonic Unleashed, Silver legally goes by Silver Prower, like his brothers.

(Old Ref Sheet)

[phanfictioncatalogue]

(TW) Horror (7) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

Apple of His Eye (ao3) - sundaechii

Summary: "It shouldn't have turned this way." Tears streamed down his cheeks, his voice trembling. "I thought it was only a rumor." He continued, staring in horror at the blood splattered on the floor.

Floor 6 is a restricted floor with one security personnel that changes every few days. Everyone says that it is haunted and Dan and his friends made a mistake of going there.

Black Eyes - omgdatphantho

Summary: Dan just wanted a roommate. Phil’s looking for a vessel for his brother.

creativity is nothing without friendship (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan has made Phil a promise and he is eager to prove his devotion. He will carve out Phil's heart and sacrifice him.

But he is also going to make sure that he comes back.

(TW) Firecracker (ao3) - AnnaSepulchre

Summary: On days when his head wasn't loopy with heat and groggy with sleep, he would think of moving his hands to loop around Dan's neck to drown him.

lead me into the light (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: Dan and Phil are part of a crew of space explorers currently embarking on a dangerous mission to check out a supposedly lifeless planet far away from home.

Monster - full-dark-no-starss

Summary: Phil may have most definitely tried to bring his dead boyfriend back to life, after Dan Howell lost his life after electrocuting himself at the BBC. But is it really Dan he brings back?

out of the blue (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: “Did you know my first word was ‘light’?” Phil asks. His pale skin reflects the blue so strongly he may as well be glowing too.

Dan smiles. “Explains a lot.”

Outlast (ao3) - trancelover99

Summary: Dan and Phil are investigating Mount Massive Asslyum due to the strange goings on that have been reported there. However, they seem to be more than what they bargained for, as the asylum becomes a literal hell on earth! This is based on that one scene where Dan was hiding from Chris Walker during his Outlast Gameplay in 2024, and what better time to upload this than Spooky Week Lol hope you enjoy it!

Pieces Of You - full-dark-no-starss

Summary: It was supposed to be a camping trip with a few friends, but after repeatedly seeing something and then rather someone haunting his vision, Phil Lester takes it upon himself to try out a so-called legend of the island he has lived on his entire life

 “They say, if you go into the caves near the farthest shore and play around with a radio, apparently, you can tune into frequencies which don’t exist.”

And that’s when he discovers something better left alone. The voice of a boy. The voice of a dead boy, and what comes with the boy is the tragic story of how he died, and a gateway through time.  Phil can’t resist. If you had the ability to stop something terrible from happening, would you try and change it? But have you ever heard of The Butterfly effect?

Psycho (ao3) - your_starless_eyes

Summary: Dan didn't mean to get tangled up in this situation, didn't mean to find himself in the clutches of a psychopathic murderer.

All he can do now is obey

surely the second coming is at hand (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: From darkness they came, and to darkness they must return. And Dan is ready.

Or, a rewrite of the final events in DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime, as well as an analysis of Dan's internality during those moments.

The Cult Under The Hill (ao3) - leewritesstuff

Summary: Daniel Howell was an unknown man. He was tall, lanky, and quiet. Nobody could pick him out of a crowd, no one could tell you his name. They could only tell you that he gave them the creeps.

Phil Lester was described by everyone who knew him as the sweetest thing that you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting. He was quiet, he was polite, and most of all; he was kind.

One of these boys does not make it to the end of this story.

[cherrygirlystuff]

Being A Grunge Girl In A Clean Girl Summer

Hey Bestie! 💖 Let’s Talk Summer Makeup – How to Nail That Grungy Cool Look Even When It’s Hot!

Hey, babe! 🌸 Summer’s here, and while we’re all about those sunny days and beachy vibes, let’s be real – the heat can make our makeup game a little tricky. But don’t worry, I’ve got you covered! If you’re like me and want to rock that grungy, effortlessly cool look even when the temps are soaring, keep reading. I’m spilling all the tea on how to keep your makeup looking fab without melting away. 🖤🔥

Step 1: Prep Your Skin Like a Pro 🌞

First things first, babe – summer makeup is all about the base. To keep your look intact, start with a lightweight, oil-free moisturizer to keep your skin hydrated without feeling greasy. And don’t forget sunscreen! Choose a matte, oil-free SPF that won’t leave you looking shiny. Trust me, your future self will thank you!

Once your skin is prepped, apply a good primer. Go for one that’s mattifying and pore-filling to keep your skin smooth and your makeup in place, even on those sweltering days. A primer with a bit of a grip will help your makeup stay put longer, so you can slay all day without worrying about touch-ups.

Step 2: The Base – Keep It Light, Keep It Matte 🌿

When it comes to summer makeup, less is more. Go for a lightweight foundation or a tinted moisturizer with a matte finish. You want something that evens out your skin tone but still lets your natural glow shine through. If you’ve got a bit of redness or unevenness, a matte BB cream can be your best friend. It’s like a soft filter for your face – perfect for those grungy vibes without feeling heavy.

Got a few spots to cover? Use a full-coverage concealer, but only where you need it. Keep things light and breathable so your skin doesn’t feel suffocated in the heat.

Step 3: Grunge Eyes – Smoky, Smudgy, and Oh-So-Cool 🖤

Now for the fun part – those grungy eyes! Even in the summer heat, you can totally rock a smoky eye without it turning into a smudgy mess. Here’s how:

Eyeshadow Base: Start with an eyeshadow primer to keep everything in place. Choose one that’s sweat-proof to lock in your look.

Matte Shadows: Stick with matte eyeshadows in earthy tones like browns, taupes, and even some deep plum or charcoal shades. Use a fluffy brush to blend the color onto your lids and into the crease for that effortlessly cool, lived-in look.

Smudge-Proof Liner: Go for a waterproof gel or pencil liner. Smudge it along your lash line, and if you’re feeling daring, add a bit to your lower lash line too. Use a small brush to soften the edges for that perfectly imperfect grunge vibe.

Mascara: Finish with a waterproof mascara that adds volume without clumping. If you’re really into the grunge look, apply a bit more on your lower lashes for that “I’ve been up all night, but I look fabulous” effect.

Step 4: Cheeky Vibes – Keep It Subtle but Edgy 🌹

For your cheeks, go for a soft, natural contour instead of heavy bronzing. Use a matte bronzer or contour powder to add some definition to your cheekbones, jawline, and forehead. Keep it subtle, but sharp enough to give you that edgy, sculpted look.

For blush, opt for a cream formula in a muted berry or dusty rose shade. Apply it with your fingers for a natural flush that blends seamlessly into your skin. Cream blushes are perfect for summer because they give you that dewy, fresh look without looking too powdered.

Step 5: Lips That Last – Bold, Dark, and Beautiful 💋

Now, let’s talk lips! Summer grunge is all about those deep, bold shades that scream confidence. Whether you’re into a classic matte lipstick or a long-lasting liquid formula, go for colors like deep burgundy, chocolate brown, or even a daring plum.

To make sure your lipstick stays put, start by lining your lips with a matching lip liner. Fill in your lips completely to create a base for your lipstick. Then, apply your chosen shade, and blot with a tissue. If you want that extra staying power, dust a little translucent powder over your lips before applying a second layer.

For a more low-key look, a tinted lip balm in a dark berry shade will give you that grungy vibe without feeling too heavy – perfect for those super hot days when you want to keep it chill.

Step 6: Set It and Forget It – Lock In Your Look 🔒

Finally, lock in all your hard work with a setting spray that’s designed to keep everything in place, even when you’re sweating it out in the summer heat. Go for a matte finish setting spray to keep any shine at bay and ensure your grungy look stays flawless all day (and night) long.

Final Thoughts, Babe: Grunge It Up, Summer Style 🌟

There you have it, bestie – the ultimate guide to keeping your makeup looking cool, grungy, and totally fabulous during the hot summer months. Remember, the key is to keep things lightweight and matte, with just enough edge to channel your inner rockstar. Whether you’re hitting the beach or heading to a summer concert, this look will have you feeling like the coolest babe around.

So, grab your makeup bag, turn up the volume on your fave grunge playlist, and let’s slay this summer together! 💋✨

What’s your go-to summer grunge makeup look, babe? Let’s swap tips in the comments – I’m dying to see how you’re keeping it cool in the heat! 💕

[curekibouka-writing]

May I have a Rollo x reader scenario?👀👀 In which they are sorta debating, like Reader disagreeing with his views+his definition of justice(?)+both stating their own opinion and stuffs+sorta warm up to each other as the process goes on Btw, totally wouldn't mind for some angst in this if there's any u can think of fitting, that is

Thxx in advance🙏🙏 And take your time<(￣︶￣)/

Burn Your Way Out

**Major spoilers for Glorious Masquerade event**

A/N: When I realise I genuinely have trouble writing Rollo 💀 But thanks for the request, I wanted to write Rollo even though it's difficult (and probably not good) ;~;

“I apologise for having you involved in this,” Rollo settles near the Bell of Salvation, his back facing you, “But you will be safer here than with your companions. The flowers will not harm you and nor will I, so I’d appreciate it if you do not run off.” 

You did, in fact, try to run off, only to fail because he captured you with a swift immobilising spell. Crimson flowers shot up to his wrist, glowing in the delicious magic they can suck from him, but he put you down without a flinch. 

As he finishes instructing you to stay put, he places his handkerchief over his mouth and gazes far outside, into an abyss of fiery flowers. Waves and waves of screams devour the night’s silence. He sees, he hears, and his dead eyes come alive with an icy smile as all the red blazes in them. 

“Are you satisfied?” you snap, “Destroying so many futures, crushing so many dreams.” 

He stays silent for a moment. You know that he knows. 

“Magic had shown me a dream too,” he stows away his handkerchief, “and destroyed a future too.” He straightens his back, “I will not let it happen again.” 

“And you think it’s worth it? You think this is justice?” 

“Of all people, of all creatures,” he turns his gaze to you, no more red in his eyes, only an ashen wistfulness left in its place, “I had thought you would understand. Magic is evil, all it brings upon us is calamity.” 

“You are bringing a calamity upon this city, you—” 

“It’s for the right cause. Magic is power, power that corrupts us, blinds us, power that we are not ready for. A world without it… a world like yours must be fairer, kinder.” 

In a world like yours, he thinks, his brother would’ve lived. 

“A world like mine? Aha… ahahahaha!” You burst out laughing, catching him by surprise, “So you’re blaming magic for unfairness? Have you seen the world? We are all corrupt from the start, we are blind from the get-go. Aren’t you the perfect example?” 

You can almost see the anguish boil in his eyes, flaring dangerously like a monster in the dark as it reaches the brim. He pushes through flowers latching onto him to take a strong step at you, “I am not…!” His voice does not follow that momentum. 

“You are caged. Caged in a cycle to prove your ‘justice’ to no one but yourself. So don’t expect me to understand. I’m not any kinder or any blinder without magic.” 

“You—” Rollo looks at the city outside once again, and now the noises pound inside his chest like the tolls of the bell. He dislikes it, this awareness that he is making a mistake and despite all he still charges forward. It reminds him of innocence, of recklessness. It reminds him of childhood, of the time when he had seen his brother faltering, heard his brother panting, yet he did not stop him. 

And perhaps you are right to some extent. How can he stop now? His wrongs not yet righted, his purpose not yet fulfilled. How can he face himself? 

“I had to do something,” he clenches his sceptre, the slightest hint of uncertainty ripples in his eyes, “How else should I atone? How else do I set things right?” 

How else can he be free? 

“You can’t.” You state coldly, piercing through the tolls in his heart. “The past is past. It’s gone. It’s dead. You can’t fix anything of it no matter what you do. All this,” you charge right up to him, easily moving through the flowers reaching up to your calf, throwing a hand toward the fiery pit outside, “All this! Is pointless, selfish, stupid. You are covering up a mistake by making another, you can’t justify a lie with another.”

The voices shrieking “That’s not true, that’s not true!” in his head every day, voices that crush every attempt to waver his conviction, are somehow quieter when it’s you who speak. He can hear you over them. 

He wants to take another step toward you. He wants to listen to you. Maybe you are not wrong, maybe you can free him. 

He moves, but his feet are pinned in place, chained by fire crackling in whispers. They tell him it was his fault. They tell him this is his duty. They tell him he must fix it with his own two hands. 

His eyes widen as if he is suddenly awake. A powerful blast peels you off the ground, throwing you away from him. 

“My past cannot be gone. My past cannot be dead! You don’t understand what I must entrust my hopes to just to get by. You don’t understand after all.” 

Flowers coil around his wrists, yanking his arms downward, and he doesn’t fight them. 

You slowly get to your feet— he didn’t hurt you as he promised. You approach him again, he looks so, so small against the fiery crimson pulling him into their grasp. 

He does not back away. He wordlessly regards you with his dark eyes, letting you come close enough to look into his eyes as well. What do you see in them this time? 

With a loud snap, you grab the vines on his arms and rip them off. You take his palm and shove the now harmless flowers in it, “They are dead. You are alive. We are alive. Their path has reached an end and you’re not walking on it. Our paths are ours to pave and you have no right to it. Don’t entrust your hopes to what isn’t yours, you will never be free.” 

Rollo considers your words hesitantly, falling to silence. And for the first time, you see no flame or ash in his dark eyes. You see rain. It’s a thing of sadness, of change, and of beauty. 

[aadroiit]

untitled no. 1 (1/2)

you've seen sparks but i've seen love. i've seen raw emotion, i've seen the unbridled and unfiltered human experience. i've seen my life flash before my eyes and i've seen glimpses of my future. i've seen true beauty and i've seen it in him. he's shown me worlds and feelings previously unknown to me, and he's shown me what it means to be human. what love means, what it means to truly live. he's shown me things i didn't know were possible, aspects of existence never put into words. he's shown me beauty no poet nor artist dares to disgrace by confining it to a definition on this lowly plane of being. because of him, i've seen the world throught the eyes of a caretaker and creator, someone truly in love. i've felt my blood boil and i've felt mania, but until him, i'd never felt in the presence of something/one so powerful and comfortable in their pure beauty that time stops, and for once, i stand still. i've felt pain and love, beauty and disgrace, and most vastly, i've felt what it feels like to be cared for and how it feels to know it. i've felt what poetry sounds like and i've felt what art looks like. he came from a vermeer painting and i've seen that. he radiates a beauty that i refuse to comprehend fully in fear that i might confine him. the knowledge of him overencumbers me, though i wouldn't have it any other way. i've adapted to love him, understand him, care for him, and do all the same for myself. i wouldn't be where i am without him, and want only for him to achieve his full yet limitless potential. he's shown me all that i could comprehend and more that i have yet to uncover. he may be a high school love, but these feelings will persist long after i know him and long after my body decays. for so long, i've hounded the truest beauty of this world, seeking to create it or something in its likeness. now that i've found the purity, pain, love, and all that i've searched for, i can't bring myself to contain him on a page or in a document. he's so much more, and i fear that just writing of him lowers his presence by the word. i've prayed to a goddess of beauty and love my whole life, and now she's given me the one thing i've asked for, in an unattainable form. he's been everything i begged for. someone to love, to hold, someone to disagree with at times, someone to live and grow with. someone who complements me perfectly. someone who won't give up on me, and someone who i'll never leave. someone i won't hurt. someone who i'll be afraid to hurt, someone to be fragile with. just someone. a human. someone who loves and is loved. someone who has unique experiences and tries to understand. someone who digs their hands into the earth and soaks in nature, someone who is the earth and an earth who is them. he is the earth as i know it. he is beauty, purity, grace. he's been hurt, but not by me. he understands and purges those influences. he is life itself. he knows what it means to live as a human in this time, in this world, and that there is no other way things could have happened. he doesn't dwell, but instead works to change. he is kind and caring, he knows how to love and he knows how to coexist with things he isn't fond of. he's himself no matter what, and he doesn't let those around him take pieces of him away. he's the closest to perfect able to be found, he aspires to grow and he loves himself, but not too much. he doesn't love himself like i love him, though, and that's fine. i don't expect him to see how i feel about him, though i hope that he can love himself enough to see why i feel the way i do about him. the flecks of black and dark brown in his eyes, the way light reflects off of them, giving them a glow that the brightest star couldn't begin to envision. he has a look in his eyes that shows his true adoration for humankind and the way it's grown since its dawn. he understands that there are downsides to humanity, but he loves for the imperfections and impurities, not just the integrities of life. he lives to experience, not to fall part of a crowd.

[rubykgrant]

The Reds and Blues (your full group and anyone else you might wanna add) are in a Pride Parade. What is everyone doing? All I know is that Sarge is driving a float and Simmons here is IN CHARGE OF CONFETTI. (This ask is brought to you by me going to my first Pride Parade yesterday)

Hey, first of all, congrats! I hope you had fun~

Sarge is definitely driving his own float, and Lopez helped him build it; the thing looks like a big rainbow version of Red Base, with multiple flags of various gender/sexuality combos (but also, they all have the Red Team insignia in a corner somewhere). Rather than drive it out of sight, Sarge is towing the whole thing in the warthog, and he's wearing a special version of his armor (just this ONCE he will be more than pure RED; he's the sunset lesbian flag, because- "It's got all of us on there!". he fully embraces this, let's go lesbians!)

Simmons is once again the Social Chairman, so he got put in charge of trying to organize everybody's duties and make activity schedules. He had to revise it several times (because he tried to micro-manage EVERY LITTLE THING), but it finally worked out pretty good. Once everything is going good, he can finally just... relax. People can still check in with him for specific things, but he mostly just gets to chill and walk around with Grif (my personal ideas for Grif and Simmons- Simmons is trans and gay, Grif is bi. they've both been in different levels of denial/awkward about this over the years, but now they can finally be themselves and embrace it. Simmons felt the need to wear a binder for years, but for the full effect of feeling accepted and proud, he has a light button-up shirt with the gay rainbow as stripes opened with a loose-fitting binder that has the trans colors underneath. then just some jeans. such minimal clothing! in public no less! Grif's in shorts and his own opened button-up shirt with the bi stripes. they participate in the parade at one point, holding up a banner that reads- "Why Are We Here? Because We're Queer!")

Caboose is the confetti king, with Freckles naturally helping! He's wearing his helmet (just regular clothes instead of full armor), and Church helped him figure out how to make the visor outwardly change to different pride rainbows without messing with his vision

Doc has a booth for anybody who needs any medical attention, and also walks around to help re-fill hydration stations, plus a variety of free snacks for people (with plenty available for people with specific diets/allergies). He has a lot of helpful references for anybody who wants to read and learn about gender/sexuality (so family and friends who want to be more accepting and mindful can get more info, and other people can figure out how to find their own community)

Donut is handing out coupons for places that sell special soaps/candles with various pride color themes. He has his own float in the parade as well, and it is a WHOLE musical number, with some flamboyant special effects and excessive glitter

Tex is just walking around ready to intimidate the absolute heck out of anybody who tries to disrupt the events. No cops or bigots at Pride, just Tex (she WILL throw a car if she needs to). She and Church participate in the parade for a bit, just kinda having fun with casual drag (she's in a masc outfit, he's in a dress. Donut helped make sure he'd be very pretty~ nothing fancy, but they have fun going with a rock-a-billy theme)

Church is handing out different kinds of glow-sticks as the sun goes down (some of them the bracelet/necklace kind that clip together). Once it is really dark, he and the rest of the Fragments put on a light show, with Theta creating the most AMAZING pride color fireworks!

Kai helped get a few different live music things going, and set up booths that have various merch/clothing for people... and once that is done, she took her rightful place in a throne on a float (there are several intersex, bi, and pan designs... but she also has a crown that says "Slut Queen", and the kink flag as her cape~)

Carolina sings some songs, and helps with some of the booths here and there... but she's mostly just enjoying the chance to take this all in, and appreciate everybody all around her

Locus is still awkward with crowds... like Sarge, he's in full armor, but similar to Caboose's visor, his can change to different rainbow combinations. He's actually more comfortable being in the parade, where he doesn't have to TALK, so he does that most of the day

Tucker is helping with the kid-friendly areas (and gives anybody who wants to call this "forcing kids to be gay" MORE than a piece of his mind). There are a lot of games, snacks, free clothes/merch. When Tucker participates in the main parade, he sets off some confetti canons with his sword (on the float, he skips a shirt, and wears leggings with the big community pattern)

Wash has clothes with his ace, trans, and gay colors, and he helps set up different booths/floats. He also passes out free key-chains and bubble bottles for people

My OCs Poppy and Junonia would help as well; Poppy would be on a float that has different flowers arranged in pride color rainbows, tossing out fake flower bouquets to the crowd. Junonia has a booth for disability inclusion (with info for people who want to learn more), and also hosts artists/craft creators who are selling merch

[cloudcountry]

trust

Genre/Tropes: Nightmare Comfort.

Summary: You have a nightmare and find comfort in Yuuken's arms.

Author's Comments: i am on a ROLL this week!! double update again!!! trying my best to feed the hungry hungry yuu stans, these two oneshots were for you (and me too tbh LMAO)

~~~~~

The first thing you see when you awaken is the mirror on the far wall. Nothing reflects in its dark depths, so you're uncertain why your eyes are drawn to it. The room is pitch black, and you attribute the absence of moonlight to the curtains you and Yuuken stitched up. Turning over, you find yourself facing his broad back. His side rises and falls rhythmically, and by the occasional snore, you can tell he’s still fast asleep. The soft glow of the blue fire from over by the armchair slightly illuminates a sleeping Grim, who’s sprawled out on his back and scratching his belly. A soft grunt that sounds like tuna escapes his mouth before he rolls over.

Briefly, you consider slipping out of bed and going outside, but there’s no telling what could be out there. In an unfamiliar world, you’re pretty sure it would be best to stick with what you know, and in this case, that thing would be Yuuken.

Reaching out across the bed, you grab onto the back of his shirt. He makes a soft grunting noise in his sleep as you pull yourself closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying your face into the fabric of his t-shirt. His body jolts, and you try to silence your breathing once you realize that he’s most definitely awake now. There’s a part of you that feels guilty for waking him up, but then-

He whispers your name softly and with so much care that you slam your eyes shut to stop the tears forming in your eyes from spilling over. Your heart lurches in your chest when he groans and turns over, throwing an arm around your waist as he rubs his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he mumbles, pressing a warm hand to your cheek and running his thumb over the skin, “Everything okay over there?”

“Had a nightmare.” you murmur, squeezing him tighter.

He sighs as if he knows exactly what you mean, and with the way Yuuken holds you tighter, you have a feeling he’s had a few nightmares himself.

“I’ve got you.” he says, as clear as the starry sky above as he pulls you closer to his chest.

You wonder how a boy who has no place in this world could make it feel so safe, but you suppose you don’t exactly belong here either. You both are two pieces of a separate jigsaw puzzle, tossed under the rickety old couch in Ramshackle’s living room. Nobody will notice your existence until they try to complete the choppy scenery of your world, only to find you and Yuuken missing. Maybe they’ll search for you, maybe they’ll give up, maybe the almost finished puzzle will lay incomplete on the table for months and years without any sign of the other two pieces. It’s scary, being in a different world, being here with a boy you never would have met otherwise, being sheltered in a building full of holes and ghosts, not knowing what became of your world. What if time passes differently? What if you get back and everyone you know is dead? What will you and Yuuken do if you two never get back? What will you two do if you will?

Will he try to find you? Will you try to find him? What if nobody else will ever make you feel as safe as he does?

What if you never get to tell him how you feel?

The thought scares you. You squeeze Yuuken tighter.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” he mumbles, gently rubbing your arm, “I’ll be here for you, you don’t have to worry. I know it's scary but we’ll find a way out of this.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” you choke out, and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat, “I…”

Yuuken waits patiently for you to speak, his eyes searching yours for the words you can’t seem to say.

“I get it.” he whispers with a smile, a rare sight but not an unwelcome one by any means, “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“No, that’s…I mean, if we make it back to our world…” you stumble, feeling like you’re about to pass out from just how scared you are, “Um, I don’t…want you to leave. Ever.”

You force the words out in a rush and thank the Great Seven that Yuuken just hums and rests his chin on your forehead. That’s a good sign, right? He didn’t jeer at you or embarrass you or flat-out reject you, so-

That must be good.

Relief crashes through your veins before you have a chance to stop it.

“Hey, don’t worry. When we make it back to our world, I’ll make sure we end up where we’re supposed to be.” he promises, linking his pinky with yours, “I promise.”

Where we’re supposed to be.

If that’s not your world, then what-?

“What do you mean?” you ask, hoping against all hope that he’s saying what you think he’s saying.

“I’ll make sure we stay together.” he says, as if it's been obvious this whole time that you two are meant for each other, “That is what you want, right?”

“Yes.” you say, smiling like a fool and it’s so embarrassing how happy you are about this but you can’t bring yourself to stop-

Great Seven, you want to jump out of bed and jump through the front lawn and throw yourself down into the grass and scream and yell and holler up at the night sky because Yuuken wants the two of you to stay together no matter what and you don’t have to worry about anything anymore because there is nothing you two can’t do together. It’s like all the paranoid questions have left your mind, it’s like they don’t even exist anymore because the person you trust more than anything promised that you two would never separate.

And you know what?

You believe him.

“Good.” he huffs, and it sounds like muffled laughter as he turns on his back, “I was a bit worried there.”

You can’t even imagine what he could have possibly been worried about, not when he’s the only person in this new world and the next one that you could ever trust this much.

“You should get back to sleep.” he murmurs, and your heart flutters at the barely visible smile on his face, “You’ll be tired tomorrow if you stay up too late.”

“Right.” you say back, feeling wide awake and far too excited to sleep, “I’ll do that. Goodnight, Yuuken. Thank you.”

You turn over on your side and try to shut your eyes, but you just end up staring at the mirror again. A few silent moments pass before the bed shifts, and an arm wraps around your waist, a protective shield against the nightmares that may come for you. A soft grunt of approval is the last thing you hear before Yuuken’s snores fill the room once again, and you drift off with a smile.

[arealphrooblem]

A Favor for a Favor Part 4

Part One Here

CW for the fic overall: kissing/fade to black off screen sex, mentions of non-consensual drugging, non-graphic wound care, off screen murder mention

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

The Present

When Roxanne’s hands started to resemble her grandmother’s, she reluctantly crawled out of the tub and into the soft clothes left for her -- sweatpants and a dark t-shirt. Both felt buttery, sinfully soft against her skin. She used the brush by the sink and combed her wet hair into a single braid before stepping out. 

The combination of the hot bath and the pain killers made her sleepy and relaxed. She hurt still, but it was a distant echo of the pain she had earlier. Roxanne could think again, beyond the blind panic and excruciating pain.

 And that was a problem because the last thing she wanted to do right now was think about all the implications of what happened to her. 

 John waited for her in the living room, reading on one of the arm chairs.  Dressed out of his suit and in soft pants and a henley (they almost matched), he looked so painfully domestic, so terribly innocent.  

Her traitorous heart squeezed in her chest, as it did so many times when she watched him through the camera lens. He breezed through her work many times after he won the mayor race and then, more recently, the senate race. 

And every time the sight of him ignited a blistering cocktail of rage at what he allowed himself to become: this master manipulator who lied as often as he breathed, putting on a wholesome face when he ran the criminal underground, and a persistent longing that she couldn’t shake off. Like deep down she still thought she could save him.

Which was stupid and unhealthy but it wouldn’t leave her. 

Looking at him now, bathed in the soft glow of the lamp beside him, reading the exact kind of cheesy sci-fi book her father had in his library, she couldn’t shake the feeling that underneath the darkness he cultivated to survive was someone good, someone worthy of care. 

He jerked his gaze up from his book. 

“I was beginning to wonder if you had drowned,” he said idly. 

If he heard her thoughts about him, he didn’t show it. 

“That would solve a  lot of problems for you if I did.”

“Yes, having the dead body of an Agency Hero in my bathtub definitely solves problems for me. Come here.”

He opened the first aid kit and took out gauze, medical tape, antibiotic cream and bandages. Roxanne found herself stepping forward to obey without even thinking of it. A thread of unease wound through her. Had he expanded his powers to actual mind control?

“I can only powerfully suggest what you think you want to do anyway,” he said.

“It’s so fucking creepy when you do that,” she complained as she settled next to him. 

“My apologies,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s hard to stay out after being blocked for so long.”

“I can’t even feel you in there anymore.”

“That’s the goal.”

He took her left hand in his and dabbed Neosporin on it with a Q-tip, his touch still impossibly gentle. The intimacy of it made her squirm, stomach twisting.. She could almost believe in this moment that he might have some humanity still left in him. 

It was a dangerous, stupid thought.

“What's going to happen to me,” she asked softly, “now that you’ve got me right where you want me?”

He placed a bandage on top of her knuckles and began wrapping the gauze tape around it. 

“ . . .This is not where I want you.”

She snorted. “Really? Me powerless and vulnerable and at your total mercy is not what you’ve dreamed of for years?”

He said nothing for a long moment, focusing on securing the bandage tight and taping it down before moving onto the next hand.

“If I told you where I actually wanted you, it might scare you away,” he murmured finally.

“Please tell me this penthouse apartment doesn’t come with a torture dungeon,” she joked, hoping to God it was just a joke.

“I keep my torture dungeons at the docks in old warehouses.”

“We’re not going to make a surprise return trip are we?”

Pointed silence followed her question as he put intense focus on wrapping her other hand. He was messing with her, right? He had to be. Why the bath, the tender medical care, why take her home if he only intended to hurt her later?

His fingers slid gently into her hair, turning her head to the left as he searched for the cut above her ear.

“If you’re so worried about what I might do to you, why did you come to me?”

Roxanne swallowed, her gaze darting away.  

“You’re a mind reader,” she said, stiffening. “You should know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it out loud.”

She hissed as his fingers brushed over the cut in her hair. He leaned forward, lifting her hair to get a closer look. The woodsy, spicy scent of his cologne, which probably cost more per ounce than her electric bill, danced just under her nose. She could turn her head and kiss him. 

“I didn’t have anyone else I could trust,” she whispered.

He chuckled, a low rumble. “Since when do you trust me?”

“I didn’t because you were an enemy of the Agency. But now I can’t trust the Agency.”

“And,” he prompted.

“And . . .I thought I would be safe with you.”

Admitting it felt like handing him a knife and offering her throat. The possibility that he would hurt her had always occurred to her. And logically, that’s what she expected. But something in her gut told her that he wouldn’t and it went against all reason.  

He dabbed more Neosporin on his finger and pressed it gently over the cut. 

“I was safe with you, all those years ago. You will be safe with me now.”

She believed him. 

The spare bedroom sat tucked away behind the library. Roxanne glanced around just enough to note the dark jewel tone colors of the decor before collapsing into the bed and passing out. 

She didn’t stir for fourteen hours. When she did finally rise, she felt like a zombie digging out of their own grave. Everything hurt. Everything.

“Finally. I was about to do the spoon test.”

John appeared in the doorway. The smell of something divine wafted from the open door.

“Is that . . .coffee?” she croaked.

“It could be. You should get up and find out.”

She did so with a groan, hobbling out through the study and into the kitchen like someone’s grandma. The weight of his gaze followed her long before his footsteps. The kitchen had a bar with tall swivel chairs that she slowly clambered into. 

“Take these first,” he said, pushing the bottle of Ibuprofen and a glass of water over to her. “How do you like your coffee?”

“Right now I like that it exists,” she said.

“Excellent. You can have as much as you want -- after you tell me everything that happened last night.”

“Are you seriously bribing me with coffee?”

“No. I’m holding the coffee hostage until I get information.”

He took a long, pointed sip from his own mug. Her mouth fell open.

“You’re diabolical,” she hissed.

“And you’re stalling.”

“Is this another power trip just to hear me say what you could read for yourself?”

He pinned her down with a stare that made her feel like sitting in the principal’s office. 

“You refuse to think about it and I find it tedious to sift through the myriad random thoughts that run through your mind just to find answers you should be giving me yourself. Now quit being childish and tell me everything.”

It spilled from her in spurts and false starts. It was humiliating to admit how blindly she had trusted Erik, a fellow agent and friend, when he asked to meet with her that evening long after everyone else had gone home. She didn’t even think to question him when he took her into the service elevator -- the one with no cameras. 

Hell, her first thought when he plunged the syringe into her wasn’t even betrayal. It could have been a vaccine to something from a powered villain. It wasn’t until she felt a strange, heavy exhaustion flood her limbs that something felt wrong. When the elevator doors opened to the basement, she tried to blur away and fell to her knees instead. 

“Did he attack you?” John asked, voice slow and deadly.

“I attacked him first. I thought he was some kind of shape shifter, targeting heroes one on one. Even then I didn’t think it was -- him.”

“And then he hurt you.”

“ . . yeah.”

She swallowed, eyes burning. It was made painfully clear just how much she depended on her powers to fight when he beat her soundly and in seconds -- head thrown against the wall, kicked in the ribs, kneed in the mouth and nose. 

“He left me there and walked out like nothing happened.” 

To her horror, tears slipped out the corners of her eyes. She pressed the hells of her hands against them, as if she could stem them from that alone. 

“I know you think I’m naive and stupid,” she said shakily. “But I don’t understand why.”

He pulled her hands gently away from her face. “You are naive, but you’re not stupid. You worked with him for years, you had no reason not to trust him. Tell me, what is his Agent name?”

“Why? Do you want to send him a thank you card?”

“No. I want to kill him.”

The look in his eyes was downright terrifying. She had only seen John’s public face, the one that won him so many elections. The winsome, handsome, boyish smile with perfect white teeth. This reminded her of the John she first met, half feral and ready to stab anyone in the face.

Of course, he only got his wealth and his elections from his power. If he lost that, well . . . .He’d be worse off than her. No wonder he looked so pissed.

“Shadow.”

John’s mouth thinned into a tight, grim line. Erik patrolled at night due to his ability to travel through darkness. Undoubtable they had run ins before. Roxanne wasn’t the only one on the quest to dismantle John’s unground organizations. 

“Did he say anything to you before he left?”

The memory was hazy from pain, but she thought hard. 

“Something like . . .that I wasn’t cut out for this work. That he was doing me a favor.”

“I see.”

“I don’t know if he was working alone or if it was really even him or if the Agency told him to do it. I don’t know anything and I don't know how to find out without telling the whole freaking world that I’m a sitting duck!”

Her voice started cracking at the end and she bit the inside of  her cheek hard to stop herself from breaking down. John waited her out quietly, his expression hard as stone.

“Can I have my coffee now?” she asked after a few minutes, throat tight.

His eyes softened into something that looked dangerously like pity. 

“Yes.”

Part five here

[nothing-but-love-for-all-you]

Miraak's Appearance - Headcanons

I’ve seen previous headcanons about Miraak’s appearance shifting with the time he spends in Apocrypha, and I adore them! So, I wanted to share some of my thoughts (I say “some”. Fair warning: this ended up being a bit long).

TW: slight body horror

Before Apocrypha:

As a Nord, he has some of their ‘stereotypical’ features - the fair-skin, the golden-blond hair, but piercing dark eyes as opposed to blue ones. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscly without being bulky (after all, he had people beneath him to do any heavy-lifting).

As a Dragon Priest, he was a man with power, wealth, and influence. He likely had access to the finest beauty products of his time, and was no stranger to being pampered. This was a man who knew what a skincare routine was, especially when he notices how his appearance impacts his followers. The more beautiful he is, the more people flock to him, and the more they find him persuasive, listen to him, and do what he wants.

In-game, he’s clearly a very proud (even arrogant) - this would definitely extend to his looks. He took pride in his appearance. I think he would be particularly proud of his hair, a common source of pride amongst Nords, and spent hours ensuring the golden-blond colour really lived up to its name. He was well aware of how good he looked, and the impact his looks had on those around him.

So what happens when that gets taken away from him? And - what’s worse - he has no control over it whatsoever? 

In Apocrypha:

Miraak is stuck in the place where Hermaeus Mora’s power is at its most concentrated. In that time, we can assume his appearance became more… ‘Mora-esque’. (After all, he’s essentially part of the furniture by the time the Last Dragonborn shows up.)

When his appearance first begins to change, it starts off slow. His golden hair begins to darken. His fair skin begins to pale even further, and when he looks in Apocrypha’s murky waters, he swears for a split-second his eyes glow. But he’s just imagining things, right? He’s the Dragonborn - such things can’t happen to him.

It’s when his hair, now inky black, thickens into strands which move without him touching them, when the whites of his eyes begin to disappear, when his skin tightens and becomes a ghostly, that he begins to panic. Luckily, he’s in Apocrypha - the largest library in existence. There must be some information somewhere in here that can tell him what’s happening right? Something that can stop these changes? That can reverse them? There must be.

When his hair is a mass of writhing tentacles, when his eyes glow a sickly green with split pupils, when his skin is as sallow a corpse, so pale he could see every individual vein, so tight it pulls his lips back into a thin line, creating a permanent ugly snarl, when his back becomes permanently bent from hours spent pouring over books, he accepts what he has become. Well, ‘accept’ is not the right word - he could never accept his new appearance. A Dragonborn, THE Dragonborn, the most powerful Dragon Priest in existence, who defied the Dragons themselves, now looks like this? Like the unholy abomination of a Lurker shagging a Seeker? Oh no. No. This will not do. It can’t.

This can’t be happening. This cannot be true. This can’t be him. This is not him.

He used to have cultists spend hours combing his hair. Now, he can’t bear to touch it. He used to run his fingers through it, admiring its softness (and himself of course). If he touched it now, it might touch him back. The thought makes him shudder.

This is when he stops removing his helmet. He no longer sees a reason to. He neither eats, nor sleeps. He can converse with the mask on, though he shudders at how his hair writhes against it. At times, he feels suffocated. Like he’s drowning. 

He stops combing Apocrypha for solutions.

And if he did remove his mask? If he was to glance at his reflection (for he could never bear more than a glance)? That thing staring back at him… That’s not him. That can’t be him. 

He tells himself this is only temporary. He won’t look like this forever, because he won’t be trapped in Apocrypha forever! He’ll break out - of course he will! He’s the First Dragonborn (a thought that no longer fills him with the confidence it used to). He’ll find a tome, a solution, something, and he will break free. Then, he can resume his rightful place as Dragonborn, and everything will be as it should.

After Apocrypha:

Except it isn’t. 

He never regains his golden mane. 

His eyes never lose their eerie glow.

His skin remains sallow, sickly.

And his body? Millennia of no food, no water, no sleep - the second he leaves Apocrypha it all hits him like a giant’s club. He is as close to death he could possibly be without dying. His body is so frail, so fragile, so thin, he cannot even stand on his own. Each breath causes his chest to physically ache, he feels each rib groan in pain with every inhale. He has to rely on that damned Last Dragonborn, his so-called Saviour, to help him even stand. White-hot pain rockets through his body. He screams through gritted teeth, knees buckling beneath him. He blacks out before he even hits the ground. 

If he is to regain his strength, to regain his appearance, to be any semblance of the man he once was, the man he sees in his mind’s eye, then he has a long journey ahead of him. But he’ll make it. He has to, right? Right? 

It takes months - maybe even years - but eventually… Eventually, the tentacles recede into hair, but it remains black, and streaked with white near his temples (man’s stressed af). Eventually, the whites of his eyes return, his dual pupils merge together once more, but an electric green ring remains around his iris. His skin is no longer deathly pale, no longer so tight it pulls his lips back, but it never regains a healthy appearance, nor its softness.

Miraak is not the man he once was, and perhaps he never will be. So, needless to say, the mask stays on. He’s no fool. He knows what would happen if people saw what he looked like. Saw this monstrosity, this perversion, this wretch he has become. He has to hide his appearance. No one can know how he truly looks, not even himself.

[sl-ut]

detka

quick note: the last instalment to this series is one of the worst things i’ve ever written and i hate that i went ahead and published it anyways so we are just all gonna forget that it ever happened, kay? that’s all.

pairing: au!baker!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

description: it’s been a summer of bliss, but all good things come to an end. wanda fears that it’s over for her and y/n, while y/n is determined to make it work.

warnings: SMUT, strap-on use, spitting kink, mentions of exhibitionism/voyeurism, legal alcohol consumption, legal age gap (reader is early 20s, wanda is late 30s), talk of breaking up, mention of PH, fluff

words: 2.2K

date posted: 04/12/22

series masterlist

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“I can’t believe that it’s August already.”

Y/n hummed quietly, head lulled back against the smooth tiling behind her as a jet worked to relieve her of the knot that had grown in her back. One of the many perks of dating Wanda is that she was at a point in her life where she could afford to have nicer things, and that she had not spared much expense on the large bathtub in her ensuite. The room was mostly dim, the modest chandelier having been set to the lowest brightness in favour of the flickering glow of several eucalyptus scented candles.

Opposite her, Wanda watched in fondness as the girl visibly relaxed into the steaming water. Her eyes traced the shadows of her face, down the slope of her neck and shoulders, and over the small amount of her chest that was visible over the mountain of sweet smelling bubbles. She disguised the curve of her lips by taking a long sip of her zinfandel as her other hand settled beneath the water, fingers curling around the ankle of her lover as it rested next to her and massaged circled into the flesh with her thumb. 

“It’s my favourite month,” Y/n murmured, “Warm days, cooler nights. Perfect for a day at the beach and a campfire after dark. Not to mention that I get to have you all to myself for the next thirty days.”

“Is that so?” Wanda chuckled at her, “I will admit, it’s weird not having the boys around for so long, but there are definitely many benefits of them going to summer camp. Maybe I’ll have to start sending them away for a week or so once every couple of months.” 

Y/n peeked her eyes open, a small smirk crawling onto her own lips when she caught Wanda’s stare, “Isn’t that the point of school?”

Wanda shrugged, “Some days six hours just isn’t enough. Or maybe, we should go away once every few months, a little vacation?”

“There is nothing I’d like more. Maybe on my breaks?”

Wanda’s smile fell. She found certain moments where she would forget that her time with Y/n was not infinite. A few weeks from now, Y/n would be leaving to return to university, and though it was only an hour or so away, Wanda worried that their short-lived relationship might not do so well under the imminent stress of long-distance. 

“Hey,” Y/n squeezed her ankle gently under the water, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Wanda took another drink, “Just thinking.”

“About?” 

She shrugged, “Just that… It’s going to be strange with you so far away.”

Y/n smiled gently, “Wanda, I’m not leaving the country, I’ll be an hour away, tops. Plus, I’ll be back every couple of weekends, and it’s not like I’m in a dorm anymore so you’re more than welcome to come stay for a few nights, if you’d like.” 

“I know, but I know what it’s like to be in college. You’ll be out at bars, and parties, and there will be girls wanting to experiment or whatever–hell that’s what I did in college. But they’ll be your age, girls that you can bring out with you without being looked at and–”

“Wanda, if I was looking for meaningless hookups or someone to drag me around at parties, I would go find them. I’m not sure how many times I have to tell you before you get that into your pretty little head.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, what college chick can offer me this? Best I could get there is a freezing shower in the communal bathrooms. Here, I’ve got bubbles…” She lifted her own glass to her lips and downed the remaining liquid, “Wine… My favourite friendly neighbourhood MILF…”

Wanda pinched her foot beneath the bubbles, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Y/n erupted with giggles, “What? You’ve seen my search history, you know that I like that about you as much as you like me being your little sugar baby.”

“Sugar baby?” The redhead raised a brow, “I wasn’t aware that that’s what this was. So now I know, you just like me for my bathtub, my booze, and the fact that I match your favourite search on PornHub.”

“The bathtub is a luxury, and you’re incredibly sexy. The booze, well you have an excellent taste in wine, I’ll admit.” She tapped her empty glass.

“I’m glad you like it.” Wanda mused, “Would you like a refill, then?”

Y/n tilted her head in consideration before she placed it back down on the side of the tub, “No thank you.” She pushed forward, grinning mischievously as she slid her way across the tub and settled in her lover’s lap, grasping the glass out of her hand and taking one long drink from it, “I’ll just share yours.”

Wanda smiled up at her, fingers finding solace in the plush flesh of her hips as she was finally able to admire her up-close, even if she had blatantly stolen her drink. Her fingers kneaded the slick skin, sliding up to grip her waist, then back down to her hips as Y/n settled down into her embrace. She set the glass aside, looping her arms around Wanda’s neck so that she could comfortably rest their foreheads together and bump noses. She moved forward, hoping to catch her lips with her own, though Wanda moved back suddenly, a sly smirk on her lips. Y/n pursed her own lips, lurching forward again to no avail.

“You admit to using me for all of my… luxuries, steal my drink, and expect to get your own way?” Wanda scoffed, reaching up to grasp her face and smirking as her lips puckered under the force, “You call yourself my sugar baby, maybe I should start treating you like one, heh?”

Y/n shifted, wiggling her hips enthusiastically.

“Would you like that, detka? I think you would.” Wanda removed her hand from Y/n’s hip, sliding it along the slick flesh to rest on her rib cage, watching as her chest rose and fell quicker under her touch. “Would you like a kiss?”

“Mhmm,” Y/n mumbled, unable to form words under Wanda’s grasp. 

Wanda grinned, fingers finally cupping her breast as she leaned forward to press a kiss to the swell of it, biting on the bulge of flesh gently before tracing her tongue over her erect nipple. Y/n sighed, shaking her face out of Wanda’s grip as she arched her back so that her chest was pressed closer to her face. The redhead released her grip on one breast before latching onto the other and offering it identical treatment. Once she deemed her attention to have brought one enough of a reaction, she relented, leaning back against the porcelain wall and reaching for her wine. She sipped it slowly, eyes never leaving those of her lover as she swallowed one large mouthful. 

“Come here, detka,” She nudged her closer, taking another sip of wine.

Y/n shifted nearer, being sure to drag her hips as closely to Wanda’s body as possible. Wanda grasped the underside of the younger woman’s jaw to draw her as close as possible, pressing their lips together in a quick peck. Y/n pulled back quickly, lowering herself and parting her lips as she awaited for Wanda to do the same. She let out a small squeal as she did, puckering her lips so that she could create a narrow stream of wine from her own mouth into Y/n’s. As the stream of wine became thinner and thinner, she rose up so that their lips met once again. 

“Thank you,” Y/n giggled playfully in between kisses, slowly rolling her hips against Wanda’s. 

She laughed along, nudging her throat with her nose as she grasped her hips and prompted her to stand, “Why don’t you run off to bed while I clean up, huh?”

Y/n pecked her once more, carefully stepping out onto the tiled floor and wrapping herself in a white fluffy towel and disappearing into the bedroom.

Wanda did very little to clean up, in truth. She drained the tub, but did not take the liberty to clear the bubbled from the bottom once the water had gone, and she simply moved the empty wine glasses next to the half-empty bottle, all of which had been abandoned on the vanity before she grabbed her own towel.

The redhead scoffed as she set foot in her bedroom, eyes catching sight of her girlfriend as she knelt on the bed, knees spread and chest puffed out, towel abandoned on the floor just next to the bed. 

“With the curtains open?” Wanda raised a brow, stalking past to slide the sheer drapes closed, “You truly are shameless, aren’t you, my love?”

“When it comes to you? Definitely,” Y/n grinned, leaning forward on her hands, “Besides, would it be so bad if someone were to see? Watch as I make you–oh!”

Y/n landed on her back suddenly, bouncing on the impact of Wanda’s shove, and even more so as the woman pounced on top of her. 

“Would you like that?” Her voice was husky, accent thicker than usual, “Someone to watch? Someone to see your face when I make you come, time and time again; to see this pretty pussy spread open for my tongue, my fingers, my cock.”

Y/n mewled underneath her, wriggling her hips excitedly as Wanda pressed down against her, thigh bumping her sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“You would, my sweet girl, wouldn’t you?”

Wanda chuckled, pushing herself up to round the bed, reaching into her bedside table for a familiar object, one that had quickly become a favourite of hers since meeting Y/n. The younger woman grinned at her, returning to her position on her knees as she watched the redhead slide into the garment, turning to face her lover as she slowly ran her fist up and down the length of the scarlet strap on. 

“Come, detka,” She beckoned her over to the edge of the bed, “You want my cock? Come get on your knees for me.”

Y/n wasted little time sliding off of the bed, dropping to her knees on the hardwood floor as she eagerly parted her lips, moaning as Wanda began to tap at her lips with the firm tip of it. She extended her tongue, allowing for the woman to drag the plastic cock up the length of her warm tongue before finally allowing her to take it into her mouth with ease.

“There you go, my beautiful girl,” Wanda purred as she began to bob her head, taking the toy further and further into her throat with each movement. She gripped the hair on the back of her head to aid her movements, offering slow thrusts of her hips as well. “You take me so well, my sweet.”

Y/n gagged lightly, tears welling at her waterline, though she paid no mind. Instead, she reached behind Wanda, gripping the flesh of her ass to take her even further. 

Wanda chuckled at her, “Look at you. How is it that you have a preference for women when you clearly love cock so much?”

Y/n pulled back just enough to respond, “Only yours.”

“Mine?” Wanda laughed, “You do, don’t you?”

She pulled her off, pushing her towards the bed. 

“On your hands and knees.”

Eager, Y/n obeyed her lover as she scrambled into position, perking her ass out further and spreading her legs so that Wanda could clearly see her dripping sex.

Wanda sighed, fingers running up the length of Y/n’s thighs, gliding through her folds gently and up over her puckered hole.

“How wet you are, my sweet.”

She gave no warning before dragging her tongue carefully over her clitoris and up so she could slide it into her weeping hole. Y/n gasped in surprise, pressing back into Wanda’s touch as her thighs began to tremble. 

“Fuck, Wanda,” She huffed, “Oh please.”

“Please what?” Wanda teased, “You want my cock?”

Y/n hummed, dropping her face into the soft duvet as she felt the plastic tip drag over her wetness. She gasped as it slowly pushed into her, pausing as she sheathed the toy into her to the hilt. Wanda took hold of her hips as she allowed her time to adjust, pushing her forward slightly before hauling her back to create a steady rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed around the room, accompanied by the pleasure sighs and moans of the woman being penetrated. 

Wanda circled her clit under her thumb, grinning wickedly as she heard the sounds growing higher in pitch, and much more frequent. It was clear to her that Y/n was not going to last very long, which was good, as Wanda wasn’t sure that she had too much patience for the night, considering that she had planned to draw many more from her lover before the night was finished. 

And many more she would receive.

tags: @lainjupi @vaeeeel @how-to-disappearrr @mellxa @wandanatvoid @d14n4ol @lorsstar1st @swiftdazer @aawake-atnight @fayhar @s1ut4nat @gimaximoff @3-02sth @battleg03 @splatashaizgay @r4nd0mgir1 @nicolesangel @inluvwithfictionalwomen @lizzieolsen89 @wildnightuniverse @wanda-is-my-joker @stormsluvr @keepingupwithwandanat @imlike-so-gaydude @exclusivitymajor

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