#nice and accurate con

[lydia2600]

Putting the final touches to Crowley. I'm a little happier with them, as opposed to Aziraphale. Just like Season 2? 🤣

[vero-valzer]

Warden Ingo from Pokémon Legends: Arceus at Sakura-Con 2025

@vero-valzer as Warden Ingo

📸 by JustCosCosplay on IG

[jaywhere]

was in the process of typing "sorry if this is bitchy" but like no, this is bitchy and i am not sorry, im having a bad night! being a reader does not make you a good editor or a good critic. like sure ur opinions are valid but random critiques from strangers are not helpful to me.

the types of concrit i have received unprompted in ao3 comments have been at their base: a reflection of a personal opinion on a fic trope or characterization, an inadvertant admission that the commenter is deeply unfamiliar with the topic or genre of the fic, or just a lack of reading comprehension. either bc the commenter didnt read the tags, didnt read the actual literal text of the fic, or dont know where the fic is going. if i want criticism i will ask one of my writer friends who is a good critic, like. i promise you are not helping me become a better writer and everything will be okay if you express the thought that is in your head to someone who is not me.

[idyllhaze]

gey

[kupidachillea]

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

[gribouli]

Secret Santa exchange

From the nice and accurate network 💚🐍🪽

Hi Tumblr !!! I hope everyone is doing well, I wish y'all a happy new year 2025 ! May your year be peaceful 💚

Sorry I didn't post here for a while because I'm still not used to Tumblr and I just drew for secret projects those two past months

Here is my Secret Santa gift, I was so delighted to have to draw something for my wonderful friends @elenthyaolyenths whom I had as my giftee !

She loves wings so I had to draw a lot of them 🪽

Little close-up

AND the 30sec timelapse (tell me if you want the original-lengh timelapse)

Maybe I will sell some prints of this drawing in the future, stay turned 🫡 In 2025, I want to get at least one booth in a con, but I have to go back to work too, so I hope I will stay motivated and productive 🙏 I think it will be okay but my anxious ass don't think so lmao. But you guys gave me strengh all along this end of year 💚

This year was very tough for me, especially when it came to mental health. But the GO fandom made me rediscover how much I love to draw, create about my hyperfixations and share in a fandom.

Thank you all so much for this year ❤️

To keep being sappy on main, I would like to thank The Nice and Accurate Network community because I love you all and I'm so glad to have met you all this year 💚💕

[pure-smut]

obsessed.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, somnophilia, dub/non-con (reader is asleep), cunnilingus, fingering, toxic love, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of male masturbation

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.3k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

It had been one week since you fucked Ryomen Sukuna. One week of you going to class, meeting up with friends, reading in your favourite café. One week of total, blissful obliviousness to the effect you had on Sukuna.

Stalker is a loaded term, but probably an accurate one, Sukuna thinks to himself as he watches you walk home. He’s no stranger to one-night stands – in fact, he tends to thrive off them. But you’re different. Sukuna can’t stop thinking about that night. The noises you made, the way you felt, the euphoria of marking your insides with his cum.

Sukuna is obsessed.

Luckily for him, you live on the ground floor. And he’s just spent a week learning how to lockpick a window from YouTube.

He waits until the lights go off in your bedroom before sidling up to the window. He’s big and not always graceful, but he’s extra careful tonight. He waits outside the window until the moon hangs high in the sky, until he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep. And then he puts everything he learned to use and carefully breaks open the window.

It’s not his fault, not really. It’s not like you left him your phone number and he has no idea what your socials are – he guess you’re pretty private? And every time you caught each other’s eyes on campus, you only looked away. Worse, you looked uninterested.

Didn’t you feel what he felt that night? Didn’t you share in that ecstasy? He knows you did because he watched you cream on his cock.

So this little game you’re playing is irrelevant. Sukuna wants you now. He wants you always.

He stands in the dark of your room, watching you sleep in the dim, silver glow of moonlight. Truthfully, he didn’t think much of you when you first came up to him. A pretty face, no doubt, but nothing special. Nothing unlike all the other girls he’s fucked and never spoken to again. But something unlocked inside him that night. Now, looking at you, he feels a rush of affection. Sukuna bends down to brush a lock of hair from your face, desperate to kiss you again. You don’t even stir.

Sukuna smiles to himself. Even in your sleep, you trust him. It encourages him to slowly pull off your blanket, leaving you only in your panties. He stands back, taking a moment to admire you. The beautiful curves of your body, the gentle rise and fall of your naked chest, your hair splayed out across the pillow.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmurs to himself under his breath. Because that’s what you are – his.

Sukuna slowly crawls onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. He makes sure to move carefully so as not to wake you. He know he can’t fuck you, not like this, not when you need to work his cock slowly inside you. But he’s okay with that – tonight, he wants to taste you.

That night, after you’d left, Sukuna had run his fingers along his cock, scooping up a mixture of his and your cum. He recognised his own taste but yours was new. Delicious. He’d spent the whole week thinking about it, fisting his cock to the thought of tasting you again.

Now’s his chance.

He gently lays himself between your legs, nudging between them. With the size of his body, it spreads your legs nicely for him, affording him a clear view of your panty-clad pussy. Sukuna casts a longing glance at your bare tits but tells himself to be patient – this won’t be the last time he gets to touch you.

Sukuna turns his gaze towards your pussy, taking a deep inhale. You’re not wet yet but he can still smell you, sweet and feminine. It makes him ravenous.

Carefully, keeping one eye on your face to check your reaction, he drags your panties to the side. You don’t stir.

My sweet angel is a heavy sleeper, he notes to himself happily. Perfect.

Faced with your naked pussy in front of him, so inviting, Sukuna leans forward and licks a tentative stripe along your lips. He glances up to check your reaction. Nothing.

Encouraged, Sukuna laps at you softly, slowly dipping his tongue between your folds to seek out more of your nectar. He wants so badly to wrap his large arms around your thighs and hold you flush to his mouth, to eat you the way he knows you deserve. But he has to be gentle right now.

Sukuna is not a man who begs. He won’t suffer the indignity of seeking you out publicly, making the first move. No, he wants you to come to him. He wants you to say please, please stuff your cock inside me again.

The thought makes his cock stir, throbbing against the confines of his sweatpants. Sukuna trails his tongue up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking softly. You whimper in your sleep and the sound is music to Sukuna’s ears. He starts to grind against the mattress, desperate for some friction.

With one hand, Sukuna cautiously dips a finger between your folds, now puffy and slick with arousal. He can feel your hole, the tight ring of resistance that he pushes past slowly, and he remembers how it felt wrapped around his cock. He pulls back and bites his bottom lip to stop from groaning. Fuck. He’s not going to last long like this.

Cum for me, pretty girl, he thinks, pressing his finger deeper and sucking on your clit again. Cum on my tongue.

As if you can hear his thoughts, your hips start to buck. Even in your sleep, you can’t get enough of him. You need more of him. Sukuna curls his finger, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and stroking it. You gasp and groan, still asleep but your body responding. Sukuna licks your arousal before circling up to meet your clit once more, swiping the flat of his tongue against it.

A dam inside you breaks. In some distant dream, your orgasm ripples through you, making you fist the bedsheets and curl your toes. Sukuna feels you clench around his finger and nearly cums himself. How this tight little hole swallowed his whole cock is a wonder.

Not to risk overstimulating you and waking you up, Sukuna withdraws his finger as your orgasm subsides. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sucks your arousal from his finger.

Fucking delicious.

He’s painfully hard now and wants desperately to coat you in his cum but he can’t give away that he was here. He needs to be patient. And if Sukuna wants something, he can be patient as a saint about it.

But he's not leaving empty-handed.

Quietly, he pulls your panties back into place, smoothing them over your now soaking mound. In the corner of your room, he spies the laundry basket - it doesn't take him long to find what he's looking for.

Sukuna restraints himself to only one pair of your used panties, plucking them from your other clothes. He brings it to his nose to inhale the scent of you, your taste still lingering on his tongue, and he has to stop himself from groaning. You have no idea how badly he wants to be inside you, to feel your heavenly pussy around his cock.

He had promised himself he was going to leave but how can he? You're lying there looking so fucking perfect, so ripe for the taking. Sukuna balls his hands into fists to stop from reaching out to you.

No, he has to go. If you discover he was here, you'll never come near him again. This is his little secret and he'll take it to the grave.

Later, he knows he'll spend the rest of the night with your panties pressed against his face and his fist around his cock, replaying the night you spent together in his mind. It'll be a cheap imitation but it'll have to do... for now.

He withdraws into the shadows of your bedroom, climbing back through your window and closing it silently behind him.

Until next time, he thinks.

Taglist: @tojis-ball-sack @moonjellyfishie @kalulakunundrum @benimarusimp33e

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[pintrestgrl]

SAD!STRIPPER!READER WITH NICE!POGUE!RAFE.

warnings — mentions of stripping from a young age, paying for sexual services, angst, fluff if u like squint ig, mentions of underage stripping (18) mentions of abuse, profanity, idk thats like it ok enjoy

plz plz keep in mind that i am not a stripper n this fic is likely not accurate

BONUS POINTS IF U NOTICE THE DETAIL IN THE ENDDD

reader is technically latina in my mind , but u can imagine her as different if u want idc. reader is shorter, n more petite for the storyline

enjoyyyy and lmk ur thoughts in the notess

this wasnt rafes first choice. he had just gotten off work, and all the bars had closed at 2am around 30 minutes ago. but he desperately needed a glass of whiskey. the only place still open that served alcohol, was the towns one and only strip club.

he thought it once over, weighing the pros and cons in his head, before ultimately deciding that there wasnt too much that could go wrong if he went. it was so late, it probably wouldn’t even be too busy. he would get his drink, and go home.

or so he thought. he was right about the busyness of the place, but the second he saw you sitting on the edge of the stage, legs dangling, leaning back on your hands, he knew he wasnt gonna leave right away. he was the only guy in there, thank god.

he managed to make it to the bar, ordering a double instead of his usual single. he knew he had to talk to you, but he also knew he needed the extra confidence. you weren’t facing the bar, allowing him to really analyze your face. you looked, sad. now that he really looked at you.

it was odd. you didnt even look temporarily sad, it looked permanent. like the emotion had been etched into you since birth. he couldn’t stop looking. his eyes finally left you when the barkeep set his bill down infront of him. he called out after, “who do i talk to for a private session?”

the bartender sighed, rolling her eyes. “there’s only like two dancers left here, ‘n they probably aint up for a session right now.” rafe shook his head, speaking up again. “i’ll pay good. as much as she’ll take.” the woman glanced up, behind rafe. “go talk to james, up there. he’ll set you up.” rafe nodded, leaving a $20 on the bartop and heading over to the man.

he was an older guy, he looked rough. tired. he was sitting in a chair, counting money. the mans eyes looked up at him, looking him over. he spoke. “what you need, kid?” rafe cleared his throat, a bit nervous. “was looking for a private session. with the girl over there.” the man chuckled, the gravely noise filling the air. “bambi. her names bambi.”

rafe nodded, taking his wallet out. “yeah— i want her.” the man raised his brows at the leather in rafes hand, speaking. “you want a vip session, or a private?” rafe furrowed his brows, confused. “whats the difference?” the man smiled again, clearly amused.

“vip, you can touch her, and she can take off her clothes. but she charges however much she wants. how long you want her?” rafe ran the mans words through his mind, thinking. he wanted to talk to her for a while. he wanted to see her fully, no matter the price. “the vip. i want her for an hour.”

the man nodded, writing something down on a piece of paper. “she’ll probably charge you around $850 for that. that okay?” rafe nodded, wincing a bit at the price. the man spoke up again, “also, if she does end up taking her clothes off, tip her well. really well.” the man smiled eerily creepy, insinuating something that made rafe feel off.

the manager yelled something in spanish at the girl, her understanding. she headed to the door behind her. the manager yelled something nodded rafe off to follow her. he trailed behind her, noticing her skimpy yet comfortable clothes. she had on a tiny bra, barely covering her nipples. and a thin as floss thong underneath the black sweats that hanged low on her hips.

she had really long hair. down past her ass. it was straight too.

he wanted to know if that was its natural state or not.

he wanted to know her. in and out. her pet peeves, her hobbies, her fears.

she led him to a room, lit up by red lights. it contained a large velvet black couch, a coffee table, and a pole. the girl sat down on the couch, her knees tucked to her chest. rafe paused infront of her, unsure. he had never been anywhere like this. she looked up at him, her sad looking eyes, before she spoke. “are you gonna sit?” he nodded quickly, sitting to the side of her.

she was looking at him, and he returned her gaze. she was beautiful, genuinely. she wasn’t even wearing any makeup either, completely bare. he liked looking at her. a lot. she spoke, again. “are you okay?” he laughed, not on purpose. just on instinct. “yeah? why do you ask?”

she let her chin rest on her knee, still keeping his gaze. “because you aren’t telling me what you want me to do.” he studied her expression, accidentally stopping at her lips for a moment. “i just want you to do whatever you wanna do.” she sat up at this, checking his face to make sure he was serious.

he could tell she didnt know how to respond, so he spoke again. he was starting to get more comfortable. “you wanna tell me about you?” she nodded, before answering. “what do you wanna know?” he shrugged. he honestly just wanted to hear her talk. “how’d you get into stripping?”

she let her eyes drop from his, fidging with the drawstring of her sweats instead. “i was really young. like, younger then i should have been. i needed money— and i just went to the first club i could find. then i moved states, started working here.” he nodded, listening to her talk. he liked her voice.

“why’d you move?” she glanced around the room, before nervously speaking. “this ex boyfriend. wouldn’t leave me alone, so i left.” he nodded, looking straight ahead now too. he felt guilty for asking, but he didnt know why. he knew she seemed uncomfortable about it though. he wouldn’t mention it again.

“you like what you do?” he asked. she nodded. “mhm. its fun, ‘n the moneys good.” he registered her words, holding on to them. “why’d you get into it so young?” she tensed up, again. he felt bad. “needed to get out of my dads house. needed to eat.” rafe nodded. the more he listened to her, the more he analyzed her features, he realized just how truly sad she seemed.

“isnt it dangerous? bein’ so young and stripping. has anything ever happened?” she chewed on her bottom lip, looking down. “more at the first club then here.” he nodded, urging her to continue. “what happened at the first club?” she sighed, rolling her eyes. she seemed, off.

“the manager— he wasn’t good. he was pimping on the side ‘n would use girls from the club. he wouldn’t give us a choice about it either; if you didn’t wanna walk the blade, he would— take more out of your pay, beat on the girls ‘n stuff like that.” she spoke. rafe felt nauseous. it was so sick. this girl was no older then 21. she started working underaged at the club, to a pimp who beat her.

rafe spoke. “you were a hooker?” she looked at him, disappointedly. “no. i told him i wouldn’t do it.” rafe felt bad for asking that. she seemed offended. “so he beat you?” rafe spoke, her answer being a light nod. “yeah. he set me up too.” he looked at her, his brows furrowed concerningly.

“set you up like how?” he asked, softly. she tucked her knees back to her chest, before speaking. “had these guys jump ‘n rape me when i was leaving work. why are you asking me this?” her expression was one that rafe couldn’t make it out. it seemed like she was almost nonchalant about the topic.

“i just— sorry. im sorry. you dont have to talk to me about it.” rafe spoke. that killed him. she was a small girl too, defenseless really. and she probably thought that treatment was normal. like she deserved it. she studied his expression for a moment, before looking away. a silence fell in the room. for a while, too. until finally, she spoke again. “why haven’t you told me to take my clothes off yet?” she asked, looking back to him. he shrugged. that idea hadn’t even came to mind yet.

“i ‘dunno. you can if you want.” she narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed. “you paid $750 to talk to me for an hour?” rafe laughed, before replying. “i guess, if you put it that way.” she smiled, for the first time they had been in that room. “so, you didn’t come in here to fuck?” she asked. he shook his head immediately, answering. “no. god no. i just wanted to talk to you.”

she tilted her head, checking his gaze for seriousness. “why?” he shrugged yet again, “you interested me. you’re really pretty too.” she smiled, again. he liked that it was him that made her smile. “thank you.” she spoke, rafe nodding. “your hours almost up.” she reminded him, rafe sighing. “can i pay for another one?” she looked at him, like he was asking the dumbest question in the world.

“you’re not paying me just to talk. i wont let you. and the clubs gonna close soon.” she spoke. rafe chewed his lip, he wanted to keep talking. he had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if she would even be okay with it. he figured he could try, though. “can we go to your place?” he asked carefully, tiptoeing over the question. she raised her brows, replying. “its against the policy to go home with customers.” she said.

rafe was about to give up, shoving the idea off his mind before he heard her speak again. “just— here,” she trailed off, grabbing a pen from the pocket of her sweats. she took his hand, writing an address on the top of it. “you can come. but we aren’t fucking. or doing anything like that.” rafe was fucking ecstatic.* he didnt even wanna fuck her, he would take what he could get.

he tried to reply as nonchalantly as he could, brushing off the way his fingers felt against hers. how small her hand was compared to his. “yeah. thats perfect— thats fine. thank you.” she nodded, getting up from the couch before turning and looking at him, speaking. “leave 10 minutes after me. dont make it obvious.” he nodded, looking up at the idea of the most beautiful girl he had ever dreamt of.

she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss below his eye. it felt like he was in fucking highschool, painfully hard in his pants from a brush of a hand and a kiss on the cheek. she left the room after that, leaving rafe. he figured she was gonna be leaving then, so he waited his 10 minutes before getting to his truck and leaving too.

he pulled into a small house, deep in the ghetto. it was decorated nicely though, string lights and wind chimes adorning the front porch. he got out of the truck, knocking on the door shortly after. she answered, looking showered with her hair wet. she was wearing a big graphic t-shirt, lettering adorned on the back of it. didn’t seem like she was wearing pants.

“hey,” he spoke, smiling down at her. he realized truly how small she was, tiny really. it was clear now why she was called ‘bambi’. “hi. she spoke, inviting him in. he walked in, analyzing the place. it was clean, very clean. cozy, too. warm lighting filling the room. she walked through the room, him figuring he should follow. he had to be at least a foot taller then her.

he followed, her walking into a room. seemed like it was hers. it was filled with candles, vanilla. he liked it. she sat on her bed, leaving him standing. he didn’t wanna sit on her bed if she didnt want him too. but she spoke, clearing the air. “you can sit.” he nodded, moving to the other side of her bed. he took his shoes off, before she spoke. “you can take your pants off too.” he nodded, slipping his jeans off and sitting to the side of her.

“can i ask you something?” she spoke, him answering with a nod. “why haven’t you asked me for sex yet? and why are you being so nice?” he leaned back, his arms stretched behind his head. her sitting up still, next to him. he spoke “i dont expect you to do things you dont want to do. i just— think you’re a nice girl. i wanted to get to know you.”

she stayed silent for a moment, analyzing his face, before she spoke, “whats your name? he smiled, looking at her. “rafe.” she nodded, speaking back. “i like you, rafe. you’re sweet.” he laughed, replying. “thanks. ‘preciate it.” she laid down, her head unexpectedly going to his chest. he let her, lifting his arm for her to lay on. she pulled the blanket over the two of them, putting on a movie soon after.

this felt— intimate. domestic. he liked it. he wanted to do this often, specifically with her. only her. he carefully let his hand go to her hip, testing the waters. she didnt tense, didnt flinch. in fact, she almost seemed to lean in to his touch. he really, really liked that.

he watched the movie with her, a silence filling the air. except it wasnt uncomfortable. it was more then comfortable, it felt good. he soon felt her go limp against him, presumably falling asleep.

he wouldn’t move a fucking inch. he liked this so, so much. maybe too much. he felt already attached to her. which might have been bad, but he couldn’t bring myself to care. he would savor this moment, and hold on to it as long as he could. he was relaxed by her presence, put at peace.

he soon felt exhaustion fill him, succumbing to rest.

he woke up for a moment, presumably in the middle of the night, to her laying more on top of him now. her head resting to the side of his, her legs tangled with his. he rubbed her back absentmindedly, eyes catching on to her hair. it was dry now. long, pretty, loose curls falling from her head.

now he knew, her natural hair was wavy.

tags — comment if u wanna b added, or taken off.

@lacehartz @battybaby111 @maybanksangel @kittyreposts @littlelamy @theeternaloptimistt @enchantedstarfish @iwishiknew-69 @heavenlyangelbaby @rafesdoe @whinyangel

[weirdworldofwinnie]

All Tied Up

Part 2 here

The Wizard/Oscar Diggs x female reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You've been The Wizard's pet 'plaything' more or less for a while now after ending up in the land of Oz by accident. One night he decides to try a new trick in the bedroom.

Warnings: unprotected sex, age gap (much older man/younger woman), power imbalance dynamic, slight daddy kink, nonconsensual mildish bondage, mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment, drinking, drugging

Word Count: ~6,471

A/N: Ever since watching Wicked when it debuted in theaters, I cannot get over Jeff Goldblum as the absolute sexiest Wizard of Oz and so this was born out of a little self-indulgence that I'm happy to share with others who are also down horrendously bad for this man. Takes place before the main climatic events of part one of the movie and obviously not entirely accurate to canon. Reader is AFAB for this (I might write another fic that is more gender neutral) and no use of Y/N in dialogue. Also, this is my first Oz fanfic, and I haven't written smut in a hot minute, so forgive me if it's a bit rusty!

Oscar Diggs.

That isn't his full name of course; all he ever told you was that it was embarrassingly long and unnecessary. Here in the Emerald City though, he is just known as a godlike figurehead deemed The Wizard. The Great and Powerful Oz. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Oz the Great and Terrible. His Supreme Ozness. All that jazz.

You know now he is a farce, a carny drifted the wrong way west, a two-bit con man that you have no business screwing with. But you do not know the extent of his wickedness and besides, he is just too damn good at wooing and making your heart stutter triple its normal rate for you to dig deeper beyond your feelings. He has an inflated ego, sure, but he's fairly quite kind, at least to you.

You first remembered him when you were a small child visiting the traveling carnival at the state fair in Kansas. His warm olive complexion was complimented with a clean-shaven face and a head full of dark hair and he was so, so tall. He still is, but you have a different perspective now. Back then at your low vantage point, he was so up towards the sky that he might as well have been wearing stilts.

He'd crouched down to your level and displayed out a standard deck of playing cards, and exclaimed: "Pick a card, any card!"

You randomly (or thought so) plucked out the Jack of Hearts and he took it back and shuffled the deck with a flurry of motion, then fanned them back out. You didn't see your Jack among them, and you puckered, lower lip jutted out. His eyes went wide at that, and he feigned concern.

"Ohhh, no, where is it? Is it in here?" He dug frantically into the flap of his jacket to no avail, then the bottoms of his tap shoes.

"Hmm, I don't suppose it could've..." He yanked off his top hat to reveal the same card hidden under there.

You'd gasped, equal parts confused and delighted, and he looked relieved at the successful reaction.

"Here, keep it. I have a dozen of these decks. It's something to remember me by and show all your friends." He pressed the colorful illustrated card into your palm with a grin and your eyes had sparkled with wonder and enchantment.

Thinking back on it, you knew he'd probably done that trick with twenty other kids that day, it was just a ploy to make you feel special, like sure he'd picked you out of the crowd to gift that Jack of Hearts to. But that didn't stop you from hanging onto it as a prized keepsake and keeping that card tucked safely in your jewelry box.

Years passed and you grew up, temporarily forgetting about the nice funny carnival man and shoving it to the back of your mind to solely focus on your simple and hardworking life helping your folks manage the acres of farmland and homestead. One late spring day you were out feeding the flock of chickens when you noticed that off in the distance to the west, dark clouds had gathered into an angry mob, a swirling mass of foreboding. You squinted, dropping the sack of feed. That sure didn't look nothing like an ordinary twister...

A vicious wind blew up and you struggled to walk towards the house, your skirt whipping around like a flag in the pummeling gusts. Ma and Pa were in town with the farmhand picking up supplies, so you were all alone and having never been caught out in the middle of a storm that seemed out of the ordinary, you were terrified.

The tornado spun across the fields, churning up the pastures and few buildings and wooden fences in its wicked wake, until it was no more than a football field's length away. There was no time get to the safety of the cellar, there no time to save anything, and with a scream, you bolted into the barn because it was nearest and covered your head as you flattened to the floor. It occurred to you too late that you should've tied or hitched yourself to a post or something...

Within ten frantic beats of your heart, the monster twister was directly overhead, the roaring and gnashing of its raw power nightmarish. Before you knew it, the barn walls around you started to rip and shudder and then the twister had violently sucked you and what was left of the barn straight up into the air and you promptly blacked out, certain this was it.

********

To your immense surprise, when you regained consciousness some time later, you crawled out of the remaining rubble of the barn to have ended up in a strange colorful place where there were joyously curious multitudes of strangers - people that called themselves citizens of Munchkinland. You were certain you had hit your head on the way down and went bonkers, but somehow it was all very real.

After you had recovered from shock and explained your situation, they advised you to head to the imperial capital, named Emerald City, to plead your case to the ruler who resided there, referred to as The Wizard. A kindly older Munchkin couple lent you their horse and a basket of bread with a canteen of water for the journey. For miles you rode through the farmland and north through mountainous regions to what the Munchkins said was Gillikin Country, home to the Great Gillikin Railway. The train station was gleaming and shiny, and the judgmental and disgusted looks from boarding passengers and workers made you feel like a filthy stray dog. You tried your best to ignore them and strode straight up to the conductor taking tickets.

"Excuse me, sir? I need to get to the Emerald City."

He wrinkled his nose and held out a white gloved palm expectantly.

"Oh, but I haven't any money for a ticket; I lost everything from the freak storm that brought me here."

His thick bushy brows had furried together and he sniffed once.

"A storm, you say?"

"Yes, I ain't got a cent. I was told by the Munchkins to go see The Wizard for my troubles."

His eyebrows shot straight up into his high forehead, and he scoffed loudly. You started to turn away, dejected.

"Well, why didn't you say so? It's your lucky day, miss! Come aboard!" the conductor suddenly exclaimed joyfully, ushering you on.

"Only this once though. You'll go straight to Emerald City where our wonderful Wizard can sort you out."

You boarded and found a private seat by the window, instantly falling asleep as soon as the train sped off. You missed out on the wonderous views of rugged thick moody forests and bright fields of crimson poppies and only awoke when the train jolted to a halt. Once let off at the station, you took to exploring the overwhelming oasis that was the Emerald City. You'd never seen a big city before and certainly not one like this...

It wasn't hard to figure out signs of this mysterious Wizard and the most obvious was a huge statue planted in the center of the town square. With a loud gasp, you recognized the figure as the very carnival man you had met as a little girl all those years ago.

After getting directions to the palace from a couple of citizens on the street, you went hurriedly to the entrance, only to run up against the stationed uniformed guards.

"I need to see the Wizard, please," you begged of them.

They'd been extremely skeptical, but after much desperate explaining and exasperation, you were begrudgingly allowed in and warned that if you were told to leave by him, you must obey and that nothing could be done about it.

The stretched-out hallway that was the walk down to where you were supposed to meet this Wizard was ominous and your boots had clacked loudly across the shiny tiled flooring, each step echoing tenfold.

The room itself was enormous and intimidating with bursts of fire and noise almost as bad as the tornado. Somehow, you'd mustered up some gumption to tell off the ghoulish moving mechanical head mouthpiece that you weren't scared off by its overdramatic display and that you weren't going to leave until you saw the voice behind it.

"I know who you are, Mr. Deck of Trick Cards!" you yelled at it and with a great whirring of the machine shutting off, it then clunked silent.

He'd come out from behind the hanging ropey curtain of thick twisted fibers, purely flabbergasted more than angry, and declared in humbled bemusement that no one had ever told him that before. Seeing him in the vivid flesh instead of a dim memory had made you falter. He had aged, yes, but he was actually rather handsome and so well dressed, radiating off quirky charm and charisma. You properly introduced yourself and recounted how you'd recognized him from your memory of that distant festival day.

"I see, but I'm afraid I don't remember you, sorry?" He coughed into his fist while his right shoe tapped restlessly.

Your heart sunk even though it was perfectly logical, and you didn't even know why you expected any remembrance when he never even knew your name, for Pete's sake! You had been just another cute face in the crowd, a country bumpkin kid to play card tricks with at the fair for a minute of his day. He had no reason to selectively recall you at all.

"I figured as much, it's my fault. I guess I'll get going though I haven't a clue on how to get home. But darn it, you know I didn't ask to be swept up by a tornado and plopped into this freakish land! I didn't mean to travel all this way through hot fields and cold mountains and the long railway just to get turned away by a silly man who runs a giant talking head!" You hadn't meant to sound rude and whiny, but you were so tired, hungry (the bread you were given depleted hours ago), dirty, and utterly exhausted. And the hope you had pinned on this one man was extinguished.

The Wizard crossed his arms tight to his chest and his eyes casually roamed up and down your body, perhaps surveying the pathetic condition you were in. If he was offended by your statements, he didn't show it.

"You know, it's funny, I had something somewhat similar happen to me back in Omaha and that's how I ended up here... I made the most of it, though. You came from the great state of Kansas, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

He had smiled at that, perhaps enjoying the way that respectful reply just automatically slipped out from your lips, and then he had waved a hand uselessly behind him.

"I don't know how to send you home. Well, I have a hot air balloon for travel, but it's more strictly emergency purposes and I don't think it would be wise to cause a ruckus and panic the people, so... You know what? How about you, uh, stay the night? You must be so worn out and clearly need a bath."

You winced, knowing you were caked in the unappealing smell of dust, muck, and sweat, but nodded eagerly.

"There's no sense traveling now anyhow, it'll be too dark soon. How about you stay with me for a while, and we'll figure things out, alright?"

You were near tears, yet very grateful, and accepted.

You almost wished you hadn't.

Guards, which were a mix of both normal humans and (bizarrely) blue faced monkeys had come in and dragged you off to a secluded room of the palace where you were scrubbed down and dressed in green pajamas by a small team of maids before being put in a bedroom.

You were stopped at every turn you attempted to leave your room to find an exit and finally they deadbolted it. You spent two nights in confinement with delivered meals before The Wizard had entered and gently explained it was too dangerous to let you leave, that you were safer with him and better off staying with him. At first, you were upset because surely your folks were worried about how you had presumably fallen off the face of an earthly existence, but then you remembered you were definitely an old enough adult to live on your own now and maybe there was nothing left of the homestead anyway if that nasty storm had its way. You didn't miss your work on the farm, nor the pressure your family had been applying to find a young man to marry. You never admitted it out loud, but you had bigger sights than being a simple country girl who let some drunken boyish hick boss you around.

This palace was just so grand compared to anything you'd ever seen in your life, and it was complete with a man you were increasingly infatuated with. It took several weeks of being locked up to come to terms with the realization that you had a raging crush on the man who was playing captor, and you wanted him very badly, but his interactions were limited, and you wondered why the heck he kept you around and alive if all he cared about was hiding his identity.

One night though, he broke down the invisible barrier: as you were knelt down in your room removing your slippers for bed, he grabbed your chin to tip upward and within a matter of two seconds, he kissed you right on the lips before you could make a peep. After a second, you kissed back hungrily without restraint, letting desire overrule fear.

"I'm sorry," you and him both said at the same time when he pulled away.

After that, you shyly admitted your blooming feelings for him and by a stroke of splendid luck, The Wizard reciprocated. He invited you to his private room and you slept with him for the first time. Afterward, he told you a bit about himself, how he really started out just a simple man named Oscar who had become a magician and one day the man in charge because people happened to be so gullible. He was intelligent, inventive, and intoxicating with a dash of cunning.

Of course, you weren't sure if the "love" that he extended was out of pure benevolent generosity or you were merely just a glorified whore, but either way you were happy because you loved him, albeit stupidly. He must genuinely love you back though; what else could all the flowers left on the nightstand and weekly gifts of expensive jewels tucked into tiny ornate boxes with trailing lime green silk ribbons mean? He even gifted you an entire handpicked wardrobe of fine clothing from pressed skirts and beautiful dresses to day-to-day blouses to pajamas and revealing lounge wear, many of which match the colors of Emerald City.

The only downside to this whole odd arrangement was that due to the fact that you already knew too much about him, he'd grounded you to the palace indefinitely. From day one you were not allowed to step even a toe outside the palace walls, you weren't let out to leave the premises even accompanied by guards, and you had to keep to yourself in the designated permitted rooms, of which he had many for a single man. When you asked why he needed the excess of rooms, he chuckled.

"They're for my inventions and all the things I collect. I'm rather sentimental, you see."

"Am I now one of your 'things'?" you asked, to which he had smiled almost impishly.

"You could be, if you want."

********

So it is without resistance that now, many months later, at eight o'clock in the evening (he insists on an earlier bedtime, strictly nine o'clock at the latest) in his grand bedroom, you splay fully naked on your back across the rich emerald green satin sheets like a starfish waiting to be swept away by the power of the tidal force he thinks he is (maybe sometimes he's more of a lukewarm swell but no matter).

The Wizard, or Oscar as he prefers only in private, is a surprisingly fit man for his age with a decent sex drive in bed when he's in the mood, which is at least once a week, but there are dry spells when he's too busy or unhappy. While you spend time reading in the library, he spends hours off somewhere building things and tinkering with models which you've never touched. You sleep in separate bedrooms, but on such nights he's ready for passion however, you're expected to be there and stay the night with him. Enjoying his company isn't hard to do - you've fallen head over heels for the man.

Presently, he's removed his long coat to hang up and is in the process of undressing further, the bits and bobs and chains clinking softly from his vest, when he pauses significantly, humming to himself in the depths of the spacious walk-in closet off to the side.

"What is it?" you ask, perplexed and a smidge annoyed at his distraction. He'd promised - no, ordered - an intimate evening after a long while of leaving too much alone. He's been swamped with work and meetings with other influential folk and plotting and planning that he always keeps quiet and stuffed away from you.

"Do you want a drink, my beauty?" he asks abruptly, turning around and holding a tiny green bottle of his famed elixir that he procured from somewhere.

"What kind of game are you playing at, sir?" you wonder suspiciously, watching candlelight glint playfully off the glass.

"It'll loosen you up, just a sip or two."

"It's just alcohol, isn't it?" You can hear the uncertainty reverberate through your tone and the guilty twitch of his eyebrows doesn't deny anything.

"My very own special blend. Take some," he insists, coming over and pressing the cool bottle into your tender hands.

"Why?"

"It's, uh, for a surprise. I promise it's not poison, by golly."

"Not funny." You narrow your eyes but pop the cork and bring it to your lips to take a quick swig. It goes down smooth like syrup, just not as sweet.

"That's my girl," he praises, and you shiver in delight as he climbs up on the bed, holding his hand out expectantly for the elixir, but you aren't done with it. You drink more, feeling the inexplicable urge to quench your thirst. You finally press the nearly empty bottle back to his hands, swallowing before lying back with a flump onto the plush pillows.

Within two minutes, you feel entirely airy and floaty, like your mind has taken an extension cord out of your body to stick somewhere up on the ceiling.

"This'll 'ad better be gooood..." you slur out.

"I guarantee it will, at least for me." He watches in satisfaction as you doze off to dreamland in a daze, a heavy weight of comfortable numb blackness settling over your bones. The room is bathed in a cozy glow from the candles, and it smells deliciously heady.

********

Not too long later, you stir awake from your short-lived nap and when you roll over to your side, you find you can't. Your back is flush against the satin sheets, arms raised up above your head and pinned to the headboard.

"W-Why am I... all tied up?" you ask groggily, looking down at your spread apart legs and ankles, which are stuck in place to the bedposts by a sturdy soft green rope snaked expertly and securely.

"I thought, uh, we'd try something new here..." Oscar says, seeming hesitant now, as if he's two inches away from regretting playing out this fantasy. Or maybe he's not guilty at all and only perceiving the act of being so (you could never tell with a sleazy con man after all).

You tug uselessly at the bindings, which aren't that uncomfortable; the mossy green rope coils around your wrists and ankles snugly, leaving a bit of room for circulation. The only part that truly bothers you is the restricted mobility and lack of control.

Oscar approaches slowly, as if gauging your reaction and his self-preservation if you should decide to fight back... How exactly, you don't know. Yell at him, cuss him out? Bite him like a lowly animal? Scream until a guard comes in to see if you are being murdered?

You writhe slowly, testing the limitations as he settles down at the foot of the bed, a patient parental expression painting his face, coloring with concern yet intrigue. In the time while you were asleep, he's removed his button down and trousers, leaving just a white undershirt and green boxers that pronounce his male package quite well.

He runs a slow hand up along the length of your left thigh and then alternates to the right, his fingers tracing lines of pleasure into your veins. You automatically whimper and he rigs a sly smile up to one side of his cheek.

"Do you like this?"

"I don't know..." you murmur truthfully. It's not exactly unpleasant, but the loss of control is unsettling.

"Well, I happen to like it. You know, the sight of you like this." He gestures a wide sweeping path across the whole of your body, and you grin sheepishly, chest rising and falling with anticipated breaths.

"You can't squirm from me as much."

"I don't squirm," you protest, raising eyebrows.

"Oh yes, you do. I know you don't mean to."

Before you can react to that, he lunges forward and his hands go to your sides, stroking up around to your breasts, fondling them like priceless treasures. You moan, arousal heating your core even more than before, and he rubs a thumb over the hard buds of your nipples while speaking lowly.

"I thank my lucky stars that you were blown in from that storm, it sure was a lonely handful of years before you stumbled into this place. And to have someone so obedient to all my whims..." he trails off, a hungry glint in his eyes.

He bends down to lick and smooch along your throat, inching upward until he nuzzles the nape of your neck with his nose. His close cropped and trimmed mustache/goatee tickles and scratches at your skin as he leans so close, cupping the opposite side of your face with a firm hand. You whimper as he latches onto your mouth possessively, his tongue hot and heavy in your mouth. He tastes faintly like Oz's finest toothpaste and his aftershave should be sold as a candle. Maybe you can suggest to him to market his own line of merchandise; the people of Emerald City will buy anything with their great ruler's handsome face on it even if the product is utter shit.

You feel your hips trying to buck up, needing more contact than of the oral kind, but he's teasing tonight.

"Just keep making those pretty noises, darling..." he whispers, sucking numerous hickeys.

"Please, Oz..."

He moves his head, hot breath on your earlobe as he mutters the words.

"What is it that you desire?"

You struggle to speak, all senses haywire, and he waits patiently as you breathe erratically.

"You-I, please, I need... Oscar, please! Touch."

"Oh, you want me to touch you there? Now we're getting somewhere, darling."

He backs off to run a hand down the length of your body and two of his solid warm fingers slip down into your entrance and out, a give and take motion he does for a bit just to get you hot and bothered. His fingers toy expertly with your moist clit like one does with levers to machines, pressing up and down, rubbing a swiping warm thumb over the knob... When he curls them internally, you cry out cataclysmically, stomach undulating in peaking waves of pleasure as you squirt on his fingers. He chuckles, keeping his grip on your hips, and without the ropes keeping your limbs in place, you'd be thrashing. It's torture, but in the very best way.

When you calm down enough to gaze at him heavy lidded with blown pupils, he focuses on removing his undergarments, taking the white undershirt off first and throwing it to the floor for a maid to pick up later. Then he gets to the main event, the showstopper. You don't focus long on his erect cock because his fingers get in between your legs again. He dips one in, two, then three to stretch you out and your warm slick folds welcome him back in with relief. He holds his free hand down on your stomach and you orgasm once more, yanking in frustration at the bindings that dig into your skin.

"Easy, easy," he says as if trying to tame a wild mare.

"I want... to touch you!" You've fondled his balls and cock before, but even just throwing your arms around his neck would be better than this look-but-don't-touch load of hooey.

"I know, I know. Hey, I'm doing the work here alright? Just enjoy the ride and you'll thank me later."

He looms over before settling down over you and it's strange not being able to grab him in return, to claw at his back, to wind your legs around his waist and claim him as your own for the evening. This power play dynamic is right up his alley, to make you feel utterly vulnerable and pliable underneath him, and it's only fitting for a man who loves to pull the strings of everything and everyone around him. He prefers being on top in bed, but you're definitely known to ride him cowgirl style a time or two (this is your favorite position).

The head of his cock pushes in at a tasteful pace to bottom out and burrow inside that it feels like up in your stomach - and it's taken practice to get to this point; the first time (and a few times after that) hurt and he couldn't get too far mostly because he was just so big. You wonder dimly if taking elixir and being in a relaxed state of mind affects your ability to take his girth. Either way, he never gets angry on nights he can't go all the way; he finds his climax just as well outside. Tonight, though, he's persistent and when he glances at your face which is not screwed up and wincing, he gradually nods in approval to continue.

Oscar moves slowly in rocking rhythm, gentle and deliberate at first, then faster and rougher, nearly growling in pursuit of his own pleasure. His silver hair falls out of its careful coifed style to hang over his forehead, and he keeps his melted milk chocolate-colored eyes dead set on yours as he fucks, a predator to his prey. He has you right where he wants, you can't move away, and you moan as your walls clench tight around his cock. He holds his stare steady, but his frame is shuddering and it's clear he's close to his pinnacle, the one he's been aiming for since you entered this bedroom.

He has made it no secret he has cravings to be a father, even though you're sure he'd be a somewhat inept, possibly even lousy one due to his measurable amount of selfishness. Not to mention the detail that he's old enough to be your own daddy and you oddly don't have a problem with that... But he knows he mustn't intentionally knock you up (a scandal that would cause if word got out) and it was you who had to sadly school him on this fact of life, having been around enough farm animals all your life to know how babies are easily made and knowing friends who had become mothers at the ripe age of 18 back in high school, and you do not want to be that careless. It's lucky there hasn't been any "mistakes" so far in your bedding with Oscar, but you know he almost can't resist spilling inside.

Instead, he pulls out with difficulty at the very last minute, and hot ropes of gooey cum splatter your stomach and splash against your chest. He groans in ecstasy before heaving, out of breath.

"You okay?" you whisper as his lightly sweating chest rises and falls with exertion. He cracks a lopsided smile, steadying himself by using his arms to brace against the headboard above you.

"Are... Are you kidding? I've never been better. Just - just give a man a minute, will you?" He retracts an arm back and holds up a single finger with a dangerous glance.

"And don't you dare make a joke about my age. I'm as fit as a fiddle, just like when I was thirty."

You nod absently, thinking of him as a younger man. The portraits and statues scattered around are decent, but could never do him justice. He's aged like the finest high-quality wine and the silver hair and sprinkling of wrinkles only enhances his austerity.

"You're incredible, your Ozness."

"Flattery always works best, my dear." He ducks his head down and sloppily kisses you softly on the cheek.

"And you deserve to be untied, don't you?" His hands wind around behind your head and with one quick motion, both your wrists are untied. He does your ankles next in a flash and flimsily bundles the short ropes up to toss onto the bedside table.

He climbs off and helps you up ease up to a seated position. You feel suddenly dizzy and droop forward, your brain rushing with slush, and blood flushes into your cheeks.

"Woah, it's okay." He sucks in a breath, catching you against his chest.

"Spinning," you gasp out and he keeps his arms securely around you for a minute before you wiggle, antsy, and he props you up.

"Still on the Tilt-A-Whirl?" he asks, lines deeply creasing his face.

"I... It's gettin' better." You shake your head as though that will dispel the imbalance that you have a strong hunch is a side or after effect from his mystery elixir, not just the sex.

"Thank goodness. You scared me for a minute there, if this is too much..."

"No! I love you," you blurt out and he comfortingly pets your head, raking fingers through and tousling your hair.

"Alright, sweetheart. And to think in addition I was going to experiment with a blindfold and gag- uh, never mind. Maybe that's too advanced; we'll hold off on that one for the foreseeable future."

You gape at him as he gets off the bed with no further word but a grunt and reaches over for a towel on the bedside table to give to you. You take it to wipe up some of the mess while he leaves momentarily off to the nearby bathing chambers to freshen up.

He comes back five minutes later dressed only in a fresh pair of tight fitting boxers predictably of his favorite color that you have to tear your gaze away from lest you foolishly admit to wanting another go around. He clears his throat at your staring, rubbing his jaw and jerking his chin towards the door.

"You can go clean up now," he says a bit gruffly, pointing.

All of Emerald City is extravagant and even the humble washroom is no exception. The first night he'd fucked you, Oscar had given a tour of it.

"See what money and power can buy? It'd do you good to remember that," he'd said as he ran a hand across the shiny marble tiles and gilded gold faucets.

"I came from humble beginnings just like you and now look at me!" He spread his arms out wide in exaggeration and you giggled, utterly enamored.

"Just don't let it go to your head." He chuckled deeply at the ironic fitting joke.

You shuffle off now to wash and wipe down your body in there, using an dark green washcloth that has his moniker of "OZ" stitched on it, and you feel aching soreness all over your body - but it's a good kind, like a full day's work of physical labor accomplishing what you really needed to do.

********

Once you are done in the washroom, you tug on a plush robe the color of jade and return to the bedroom to go to lay back down on the king size bed next to him. He pulls you in with the crook of his arm, the other holding a different bottle than the elixir. This one smells very much like whiskey.

"I should tell you..." he begins with a pause, clearly not in any hurry as he takes a breath and then a couple sips. You can tell by his slightly unfocused gaze and relaxed body that he is getting a tad drunk.

"We're gonna have a special visitor soon from Shiz University, you know Madame Morrible?"

"Yes." You've seen her come and go around the palace, but aren't advised to get within ten feet of the powerful older woman, let alone speak to her. All you know is that she can do impressive magic (unlike him) and is a very close loyal confidant who provides important insider information.

"Well, she invited a very special student with promising magical abilities here for something I'm working on, and I'll need you get out and to stay out of our hair for a while," he explains causally, playing with the neck of the bottle in his fingers.

"You're casting me out?" you ask, disappointment surging up like a muddy river during a flood. This set-up is only too good to last, isn't it? You're so in love that you've almost forgotten all about home, not that you'd really loved your old life there much anyway. But if you truly can't get home ever again, you'll have to start looking for some kind of work in the city to make meager money and hopefully figure out how to cobble a life together if that's even possible. You'll never find another man to depend on like Oscar, that's obvious. Funny that mere months ago, you had been somewhat distraught at the notion of being held against your will in this unfamiliar palace and world. Now you just feel stupid for letting him lead you into a false sense of security and preying on when you were most desperate.

"No, no, of course not," he replies in a scandalized tone, slicing sharply through your spiraling thoughts.

"I greatly value your, uh, commitment to me and keeping my secrets. You're a very delightful girl who doesn't go snooping for trouble and you try to keep out of my business."

You don't mention that you are technically locked indefinitely in this palace, forbidden to go outside off the grounds, and hadn't really had a choice in the first place. But he appears so sad and frustrated, so you nestle and snuggle further into his side, your hand tracing lazy circles on his chest.

"Perhaps only though for your safety, if the upcoming meeting and arrangement doesn't go well, you might have to leave permanently. But, uh, in that case I'll make sure you get you set up with decent accommodations outside the city. Perhaps Munchkinland, Governor Thropp there owes me a favor..."

"Okay," you murmur quietly even though this prospect partially frightens and worries you, and you feel relief oozing from his bones.

"Thank you for always understanding my dear. You know I have such a responsibility and I need everything to go right when this special young lady comes - Morrible is counting on it and you damn know it you don't want to get on her bad side."

"This student of hers must be something else," you mutter more to yourself than him. How much does she know, anyway?

"She sure fucking is from what I've been told. She'll change everything and put me in a greater position than before if I can get her to work with me. Morrible seems cautiously confident and cheered as well by the prospect, which is a sign to be taken seriously. She can often have a stiff stick up her tight ass, huh?" He laughs, deep and throaty, and you know his guard is down when he swears openly in conversation.

"Right." You're silent for a little while, just letting him hold you and trying not to dwell on the implications of whatever this mystery meeting could hold. You could ask for more information, seeing as to how he could be looser lipped from the effects of the alcohol, but you frankly don't care. The post orgasmic state you're basking in is too all-consuming to break out of (plus you are fatigued), and so you let the less business side mood of tonight seep back into the conversation.

"Hey, I liked this tonight, what we did. I really thought the ropes were, um, creative and even though I was nervous at first, it was actually... pretty hot? Maybe we could do that again sometime, sir?"

He smiles tentatively, the gears of his diabolical mind whirring on another track, and your words clumsily snatch him back to the present.

"That's just what I like to hear, sweetheart. That's what I love best-"

"-making people happy," you finish for him, having that line down pat after overhearing him parrot it as part of his political approach.

"Atta girl," he replies with a smarmy smirk and then a contented sigh, ducking his head and resting his chin on top of your head as you lay on his bare chest, listening to the even drumming of his heartbeats.

The palace is delightfully quiet this time of night, the guards in immediate range having been dismissed for the evening so there would be no eavesdroppers. Light from the waxing moon outside the large glass windows curtained with heavy drapes parted a couple inches beams through weakly down, leaving a six inch pale strip to highlight the heavily polished floor.

Kansas and its cornfields feel like worlds away. This is almost like a dream in of itself, but I know it isn't because every day I wake up and I'm still here, you muse sleepily.

Maybe you're staying with the wrong man, and it will end badly between you two. But honestly at this moment, you are too smitten by this lavish lifestyle you stumbled into, his seemingly sincere ongoing affections, and the raw primal love you extract from his flesh on passionate nights like this to give too much of a hoot about it.

[goldenlaquer]

Woahhhh if asks are open... can I ask for Gintoki trying really hard to impress this girl he likes, but everything goes to absolute shit because this is Gintama? Totally fine if you delete! I still devour all your old stuff to fill my soul with life 🥹 Never come across anyone who writes Gintama as accurately as you bebe 😘

Sakata Gintoki Headcanons:

If Gintoki made a list of pros and cons about himself, it would probably read like this:

Pro: he has a big dick. (Big dick reading as BIG DICK, in bold, all-caps. Triple underlined.)

Con: he's a perfectionist. (Con: he's a liar.)

So, it isn't all that hard to imagine impressing you would be a Herculean task for Gintoki.

Asking Kagura for advice is like shooting yourself in the foot. Gin-chan is penniless, she says matter-of-factly. No lady wants a broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend. A pause to let him absorb these insults, and then, Papi brought Mama three heads, she kindly tells him like it's the secret to your heart, and that's very romantic in Yato culture apparently. Which reminds Gintoki that Kagura is from a different species just as much as her barely counting as female to begin with. Well, in human culture, he could give you as many heads as you'd want— but that's bases away and he's been swinging strikes all throughout this sad, unrequited game.

Asking Shinpachi— no, no. Now, that's a lost cause.

He tries. He does. He really tries.

He tries complimenting you. Suavely slide in a comment about how your teeth looks like it could bite into hard candy, no problem. That your hair doesn't look as dry and brittle today than it did yesterday, and oh wow, your tits look... wow. Double thumbs up.

He tries paying for your meal, to show that he can provide for you, that he's not going to be the broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend Kagura deemed him to be. Work a few odd jobs and have all the correct bills in his normally depleted wallet, even break a comb on his hair and get dressed to the nines in his nice, regular clothes that passed the sniff inspection when he shook it out from a pile of unwashed laundry— and it's just, while on the way to his favorite family diner he invited you to, he's passing by a pachinko parlor, with all of its flashy get-rich-quick displays and bright dinging noises from within, and that was when he's suddenly sensing it... the taste of victory. Long story short, the only thing he'll end up tasting is the strawberry parfait that you paid for.

Whatever poor progress that manages to inch forward always ends straight back to the negatives. Damn the perverted stalker and her masochistic plays she forces on him. Damn the timing and whatever deity has pitted against him when you step onto the scene to the sight of him wielding a paddle as the stalker squeals happily while tied to the wooden cross. No, this isn't— he wants to tell you, but your expression has already smoothed into a carefully blank canvas before you turn your back to him and walk away to leave him to... it. No, this isn't what it looks like, he wants to scream.

In a mood of desperation and shots deep in cheap gutter sake, he'd even wrote a poem in the dead of night, detailing the color of your eyes and all the things they reminded him of, invented a new word just to make a rhyme with your name, how the sound of your voice catches in his chest when he hears it— shit if he knew anything about pretty words, he'd never wrote anything longer than a drawn penis before— and once he was done, what he did next was ball the whole sheet up, open the nearest window, and pitch it to the stars. The lamest shit he ever did in his life will be taken to his grave.

Sometimes, because his name is Gintoki, and he is the protagonist of a septic tank for low hanging fruit comedy series called 'Gintama', sometimes the whole universe is against him.

There is a two episode-length arc the occurs, but due to the time-constraints of these headcanons and the writer's own laziness, the details of it shall not be outlined, but please know it involves an exposition, conflict, rising action, a climax (and not the good kind), falling action, some explosions and a tiny grave misunderstanding that leaves you storming from the wreckage in fury and exasperation, and Gintoki catching your wrist, spinning you around to face him. Emotions and adrenaline running high, chests heaving in exertion, and seeing your face covered in soot and sweat and your eyes huge and wet, looking damn more beautiful than you have any right to be, that's when Gintoki finally decides to put his big balls to use and confess himself to you. Opening his mouth and—

Plotfully, the wind picks up, and then suddenly a wadded ball of paper rolls to hit your feet. Both you and Gintoki look down to stare at this interruption. You bend down to pick it up and unfold the ball, startling at whatever you find, snapping your eyes up to him. "Gin, your name is on here?"

Shit! Gintoki realizes, recognizing the paper now. This is the worst possible timing! My stupid shitty poem somehow found its way to the woman it was written for. And why the fuck did I sign it!

He looks left and right, searching for a vending machine to put his head through, and when there are none, he's scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you and the damned poem he wrote that found it's way to you, as if was meant to be there. "I wrote it." He finally grumbles. "For you. Don't be creeped out."

Your eyes scan the page from top to bottom, reading. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"This is really what you think about me?" Your trembling voice barely above a whisper.

Gintoki pauses. Then nods. "Yeah. Every word."

Your expression blanks. You turn the wrinkled paper around. Gintoki squints.

Shit! Gintoki thinks. I was so drunk I never wrote anything down, I just drew a penis!

[lydia2600]

So I think this is where I plan on leaving Crowley. The final version will have a border and more gilding on the staff and hairband. Now back to my old friend Aziraphale and see if he is dry enough to varnish. Egg tempera takes quite some time to dry!

[cosmowgyral]

"Once again, the Evil that cannot be Undone: Tonight you will fall for me"

▪︎ William and Nica

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

Nica's End

A few days have passed since Nica summoned me with the fake letter--.

Liam: Kate, what’s wrong? You sighed just now.

Liam looked worried after noticing my unconscious sigh.

Kate: There is something stuck in my mind, but it’s frustrating to not be able to recall it properly….

Liam: If you don’t mind, can you tell what it is?

Liam: I might be able to help you recover your memories, Kate.

Kate: Thank you, Liam.

(I’m not sure if it’s okay to tell other people about the memories Nica told me about…)

(But recovering my memories takes first priority now.)

Then I told Liam a little about the memories Nica had shared with me.

Liam: Kate, this is hard to say, but….

Liam: I feel like I’ve heard the things you told me before.

Kate: Huh…?

The fact that Liam is aware of my memories with Nica is obviously odd.

Liam: Now where have I heard it….wait a minute, let me remember.

Liam: …Ah! I know!

---Then Liam began to tell me the shocking ‘truth’.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Nica: I’m so happy you came to see me, Kate.

Nica: So…how can I help you today?

Today, Nica once again flashed that charming smile that always turns heads and captivates passersby.

If I hadn’t talked to Liam, I would have been sucked into his sweet temptation and doomed.

I would have mistakenly believed that I was his lover before I lost my memories.

Kate: You know what’s the matter without me having to tell you, right?

Nica: Umm, maybe an invitation for a date?

Kate: No. I came to ask about this.

I placed a book on the desk in the reception room.

Nica: The Beautiful Lady Patricia

Nica’s expression remained perfectly calm even as he read the title of the book.

This evil con-man must be pretty thick-skinned, having fooled me not once but twice in such a short period of time.

Nica: Does bringing this book indicate you remembered something?

Kate: Yes. In addition to my anger towards you, I have recollected all my lost memories.

Kate: --It’s a complete lie that we are lovers.

Kate: The things you told me about our relationship and the memories we shared are exactly what’s written in this romance novel!

Nica: Oh wow. You managed to uncover the truth. Robin is a great detective.

Nica, undeterred by my anger, clapped his hands loudly.

His flippant attitude only infuriates me more.

Kate: Liam was the one who noticed. He told me that our memories are exactly like the contents of this book.

I had finished reading this book that I borrowed from Liam the day before I lost my memories.

Nica attempted to pretend to be my lover by using the information from the book that was still vividly in the back of my mind.

(I don’t know how Nica found out that I read this book….)

(I can’t forgive him for trying to take advantage of my memories and impersonate as my lover…!)

Kate: Why did you tell me such a lie, Nica?

Nica: Of course, it was to stir up your memories and help you regain them. Could there be any other reason except this?

Nica: And you truly did regain your memories. So my plan was a success.

Kate: ….I can’t believe that was your reason.

I can’t believe that Nica, who toyed with feelings so frivolously, wanted to help me regain my memories.

He is the type to deceive me, not help me.

Kate: I feel like there is always a hidden motive behind your so called good intentions.

Nica: A hidden motive….? That’s a harsh allegation.

Nica: I just love the cheeky side of you, Robin.

Kate: Huh?

Nica: It would be cute if the Robin fell in love with me so easily just because I was a bit nice to her, but wouldn't that be boring as well?

Nica: I want to bully the cheeky little robin that keeps opposing me and doesn't allow me to do things my way.

Nica: In other words, I wanted to restore your memories for my sake.

Nica’s eyes were surprisingly straight, and he didn’t seem to be lying.

(He really gave me horrible reason as to why he wanted to bring back my former self…)

Kate: ….I won’t be thanking you for helping me get my memories back.

Nica: That’s okay. I’ve received enough thanks.

As I tilted my head wondering what he meant, Nica’s hand stroked my cheek.

Nica: When you had lost your memories, you became nervous and flustered by my every move…

Nica: And now, the look on your face as you glare at me with a frustrated look is so funny. I’m just satisfied with this.

Kate: I’m not flustered by you!

Nica: Oh? Then shall I try doing something again just to be sure?

Kate: No, you won’t!

I glared at Nica with frustration, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it and just laughed happily.

A few days after having been toyed with Nica and regaining my memories---.

Kate: I have something I want to discuss with you two. Would you mind listening?

When I called out to Liam and Alfons in the room, they looked my way.

Kate: I want you to help me think of a way to beat Nica at his own game…!

[Chapter 2] [Masterlist]

[toastyfirefly]

Hello hellooo! Hope you are doing fine! Aaand if requests are open - could I kindly ask for Yandere Bumblebee headcanons? I am right now all over the Robots in Disguise 2015 and Animated, whichever is fine! Cybertronian female-leaning reader, please. q(≧▽≦q)

FUCK YEA LETS GOO- I mean…… I am very normal about getting my first ever request.. yea…

Yandere RID! Bumblebee X Cybertronian Fem!Reader

[WARNING: I haven’t watched RID for like years, so be warned! Might not “bee” accurate!]

Bumblebee kinda strikes me as a paranoid yandere, as well as obsessive too

The paranoid part being due to all the cons running amok, he’s constantly worried about you getting hurt or something god forbid you’re rebellious and/or don’t follow his orders

Would be very happy that you both live in the junkyard, s- so he can make sure you’re safe! Yea! He definitely doesn’t watch you sleep at night! Never!!!

Definitely uses his status as leader to manipulate you

If a Decepticon were to ever actually hurt you, he’d go much rougher on them when fighting them, to the point where EVERYONE is concerned, like; why is the Autobot guy being so aggressive all of a sudden?? Isn’t he supposed to be nice???

But if they somehow, by some twisted miracle were able to be able to severely harm you? Well.. lets just say that not even the best medics will ever be able to put that puzzle back together!!❤️❤️🫶

Reader, very much in a fuck ton of pain from a severe injury: Babee, why are you covered in energon?

Bumblebee, who defo didn’t just come back from a maiming: don’t worry about it, shouldn’t you be resting?

~writer

Wait, IS THAT A-?!

BONUS:

Yandere TFA Bumblebee X Cybertronian Fem!Reader

I think he’d be a manipulative and possessive yandere!

He’d use his good looks to make you do things with him

Oh what’s that? You wanna go out for a drive alone? Why do that when you could hang out with him and sari! *Blinks sexily at you*

He does NOT want you hanging out with anyone else, you have a veeeeery clingy lil bug on your hands

Wants to be with you 24/7, will guilt trip you into only hanging out with him and the other Autobots, BUT MOSTLY HIM!!!!!

Loves showing off to you, and gets so mad when you think others are cool it makes him look stupid

Does the most reckless things just for an ounce of attention from you

Give him forehead kisses and he’ll malfunction, sorry, Bumblebee.E.X.E has stop functioning, try again later?

Bumblebee: Hey babes! Where you headin’?

Reader: just for a drive.

Bumblebee, not wanting to “bee” without his favourite bot for a single second: Awesome! Can I come??

Reader, who just wants five minutes alone: Sorry, but I just wanna “bee” alone right now-

Bumblebee: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!—

~Writer

[idyllhaze]

gey

[vestadragon]

NOT THE LATIN AMERICAN VOICE ACTORS FOR ALASTOR, LUCIFER AND CHARLIE MAKING A WHOLE BIT OF THEM TRAVELLING ON VACATION TOGETHER TO MEXICO AS INTRO FOR THIS EVENT!!!

This isn't a recent event, but it being TikTok I can't really get an accurate answer from what Con it was, just that it was in Mexico. I always love finding these types of interactions between the voice actors cuz they give us so much fan content XD Translation is by me, if you see an asterisk I'll explain further under the read more, if you have any questions let me know! Also, you can see the original on TikTok by deny.bat via this link!

[Start ID: A video from user @ deny.bat on Tik-Tok shows an empty stage in front of a screaming crowd with the text "#Alastor #Lucifer #Charlie arrive to Mexico" in Spanish as an overlay. In the video, the voices of the Hazbin Hotel Latin American Spanish dubbing actors Mario Vargas (Alastor), Daniel Streeter (Lucifer) and Karla Carrizo (Charlie) can be heard off-stage acting out the following translated dialogue:

Alastor: -travelling as a simple human and being unable to disappear into the shadows seems, at least, demeaning for a demon such as myself. Lucifer: Demeaning? Alastor, we are talking about travelling by plane. It's the most normal thing in the world, it's ordinary. You know what is demeaning? Having to be stuck at the airport security for over two hours because someone had the great idea to bring in their baggage forbidden items- Alastor: Forbidden? Lucifer: Does it seem normal to carry in your bag deer meat, for the love of Our Lady of Guadalupe?* Alastor: But of course! Of course! Otherwise, what will I eat when I get hungry, Lucifer? Lucifer: It is not normal! Per human aerial transport rules, you can't carry that. Nor can you try to bribe the officers with a plate of jambalaya. Alastor: I'm sorry, who said anything about bribery? I only wanted to make a simple deal. Lucifer: No deals! Everything on Earth is different, Alastor! There are rules! Get it into your head! Alastor: Alright, alright. I will take it into account, suggestion received. Lucifer: It isn't a suggestion. We have been in Mexico for two days, and you've already had problems with the law. And let's not even mention the embarrassing situation with the representatives of Heaven on Earth. Don't you realize that having problems with them does not help my daughter's hotel? They have a direct line to Heaven, don't forget. Alastor: What? Weren't you the one who said we had to soak up this beautiful and ancestral culture? Because I did! I followed everything to the letter! I had the wonderful idea to go out to eat. What better way to get to know a nation's culture? Lucifer: Oh, don't even get me started on that, please. I told you we had to try the famous taquitos al pastor*- Alastor: Yes. Lucifer: And what did you do? You ate Paquito el Pastor! Do you know the amount of problems we will have when upstairs finds out? Alastor: Oh, details. It's a tiny problem for future Alastor. I'm sure he'll be able to solve it. Lucifer: You little demon-! Charlie: Stop, stop! Stop arguing! People are starring at us. Remember that this is a peaceful trip, we must go unnoticed. The idea was for us three to share this together. It's not possible that you two can't act like adults. Alastor: Demons, darling. Lucifer: Oh Lord of everything that is boiling in hellfire, listen here or I'm going to stick it up your- Charlie: Dad! It's kick you in the butt. Both of you listen to me. We are here in Mexico City and there are so many beautiful places to visit. Chapultepec Forest, Paseo de la Reforma*, the Palace of Fine Arts, the Zócalo*, Lake Xochimilco! Lucifer: I read that I'll be able to unleash my ducky army there. Charlie: Yes! And we can share a nice boat ride together. Alastor: Oh, boat rides. Reminds me of New Orleans, so many memories! Charlie: There's no more reason to keep on fighting. There is so much to see! Alastor: And eat too! Lucifer: Yes, it's been so long since I have set foot on Earth, we must take advantage of our time. Charlie: And what better place than right here! End ID]

*Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, Our Lady of Guadalupe, is a Catholic title of Mary, mother of Jesus. She is a Mexican depiction of Mary that is said appeared to a peasant named Juan Diego to bring Catholicism to the new world and now is the most important religious figure for Mexican Catholics.

**Al pastor (from Spanish, "herdsman style"), tacos al pastor, or tacos de trompo is a preparation of spit-grilled slices of pork originating in the Central Mexican region of Puebla and Mexico City, where they remain most prominent; today, though, it is a common menu item found in taquerías throughout Mexico. The method of preparing and cooking al pastor is based on the lamb shawarma brought by Lebanese immigrants to the region.

***Paseo de la Reforma (literally "Promenade of the Reform") is a wide avenue that runs diagonally across the heart of Mexico City and

****Zócalo is the common name of the main square in central Mexico City.

[batlovebites]

Hello!

First of all, I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE!

And second, Can I have milky way X older brother reader headcanons please?

I thank you in advance if you accept this request, have a nice day!

Thank you so much, darling anon! The reader's gender isn't brought up at all in what headcanons I wrote here except the last line, so I elected to just go ahead and keep that final line gender-neutral as well this time around.

Milky Way Cookie & Older Sibling Reader [Headcanons]

Milky Way's tired demeanor and lackadaisical nature sometimes leads others to question her ability to perform her responsibilities as a conductor- but even if those might be accurate descriptions of her, you won't tolerate any of that talk! Even though she might not take things as seriously as she should all the time, you have no doubt in her capabilities, as long as she's got her mind set on it! She just needs to work on wiping away the sleepiness from her eyes for long enough to do so...

She'll pick on you a little with those affectionate insults only siblings can give- both in terms of tone, and that if anyone else tries to tease you the same way she'll swiftly correct them. That's her job, thank you very much, and its the one she puts full effort into!

If you're taller than her- which is likely- she'll frequently bug you for piggyback rides, during which she'll order you around and speak as though you were a train she was conducting. Choo choo, ready for departure!

When you accompany her on her train, she'll sometimes joke about getting you to do her job for her- and sometimes it isn't completely a joke, you only realizing she's conned you into doing her work halfway through punching tickets while Milky Way is napping away. Oh well- what else are big siblings for if not helping their little siblings out every now and then?