#((I cannot control the plant))

[oblisker]

shitty and dangerous friend vs literal eldritch god physically and psychologically abusing his ex-worshipper to the brink of complete insanity

[mothsakura]

help .... cannot stop making ocs... ANYWAYS- Eye of the Storm (late gen 1 - early gen 2) and False Alarm (pre-gen 1, the 8th of the original 10 prototypes for the iterator project)

[kakusu-shipping]

I'm very normal about Piranha Plants on Parade you can trust me with your country's most valuable resource I won't feed it to my Dinosaur Creature to see if it'll make him sing trust me.

[hecksupremechips]

Starfire teen titans my best friend Starfire id burn alive for you

[david-watts]

cannot wait for everyone else to get their shit together so we can get my curtains ready (would do it myself but I have to concede that I'll need help on this one) so I don't have to hear the obnoxiously loud convos and child screams from next door

[elllisaaa]

THINK AABOUT THIS

horny bsfheeseung who can't control himself when he's with you and eventually ends up fucking you on a rainy night

i'm thinking about it yes, because imagine HORNY BSF!HEESEUNG who was only supposed to come spend the afternoon at your place and watch a film with you. it was a cold day, so you were wearing a hoodie three times too big for you, some shorts and your warmest socks. you had already set up the couch - cozy blankets prepared for you, snacks and drinks scattered all over your table. and you were just so excited about finally spending time with him that heeseung felt really guilty about the way he couldn't help feeling hot under the collar when you hugged him and dragged him to the couch, snuggling up against him because you were freezing.

you put on the film, but heeseung cannot focus on it at all. everytime he tries to look at the tv screen, his eyes are drawn back to you - to your pretty face, pretty eyes, and pretty lips that he's dying to kiss. he's not usually this bothered around you, he has self-control, but there's just something about you today and the way your scent intoxicates him more than usual that makes him hard in his sweatpants. but it's okay, heeseung thinks, he just has to go through the movie without being suspicious and then he can go home.

wrong. not even halfway through the film, rain starts pouring outside. and it doesn't seem to stop. its raining so much that when the movie ends, you decide that it's too dangerous for heeseung to take his car to go home now. "but it's okay, you sleep here." and heeseung wants to say no, because he knows that if he stays in your presence one more minute, he's going to lose control. but you're actually right, he cannot drive in this weather.

so heeseung tries to not look at your ass too much as you bend down to get him another pillow so he can sleep on your couch comfortably. and he tries to not get distracted by the way he can still see the outline of your boobs, even under your oversized sweater. it's hard - and he's very hard by now - but he really tries. he's aware you're just being sweet, he's aware that you're not feeling the same as him, he's aware that he's being pathetic, but just cannot stop himself when you bend down again in your tight shorts to pick up a pack of gummies that fell to the floor.

"fuck, y/n, can you stop doing this ?" you turn around, the bag of candies in your hands and a clueless look on your face as you plant your innocent gaze into heeseung's lustful one. "stop doing what hee ?" - "bending over like this, showing me your pretty ass. that is if you don't want me to fuck you, baby." he eats up the way your cheeks immediately grow red, mouth opening and closing without knowing what to say anymore. the smirk on his face widens as he gets closer and you don't back out, dropping back the sweets once he wraps his arms around your waist. "so, what do you say ?" his lips are brushing against yours with how close he is, but you don't mind it, you just him to kiss you now. "yes, please."

heeseung doesn't waste any more time talking before he grabs you by your neck to pull in a kiss that leaves dazed, your mind blank, breath short from how good his tongue alone makes you feel. he chuckles when you chase his lips, fists closing around the fabric of his tee. "you want more ?" - "heeseung, please, don't tease me… i've waited for this long enough." the realization that you had been wanting just as bad is what sends heeseung far away, too far away to have control over himself anymore. "shit, i'm sorry princess, i'm gonna make it up, yeah ?" you nod and the next thing you know is that heeseung has you bend over for him on the couch, your shorts and underwear pulled down just enough so that he can push his cock inside of you.

"feeling so good baby, knew you would, i knew you would be perfect for me." you only moan louder at his words, trying to keep a bit of sanity as heeseung pounds into you like an animal. but in the end you don't mind the way his hand presses against your lower back, under your hoodie that he didn't take the time to throw away, forcing your back to arch even more, his cock hitting even deeper into you. "hee ! i'm close, i'm close please…" - "gonna make you cum all over my dick and then fill you up. everybody's gonna know you're mine this way."

and you don't deny, because in the end that's what you want. as you come down from your high, slowly opening your eyes that fall on the raindrops hitting your windows, you wonder if he really means it. "shit… you're still so tight baby, makes me want to fuck you again." you only whine at his words, letting him grab your hair and yank your head back. and you don't dare ask him what's gonna happen after, you just want to enjoy the way he's making you feel a little longer.

[hibiscus-percy]

Still cannot believe the pain that Persephone is definitely feeling, because she mentioned that her greatest wish was to be a mother, only for her to have two children and not be able to raise either of them because of circumstances out of her control. Quite literally, both of them were born and then something terrible happened, resulting in her being unable to watch them grow up.

Zagreus was born dead. Persephone, in her grief, fled to the surface to escape the pain she felt. Years later, the same son she thought she'd never see again showed up at her cottage. She then proceeded to watch him die, over and over again, as was the price he had to pay for fighting his way to get just a few minutes of her time. In the end, it all worked out, but I can't imagine her having to watch her son repeatedly collapse and melt away into the Styx, slowly realizing she's made a mistake in running away.

Melinoë, although we don't know her story in its entirety just yet, also didn't get to be raised by her mother. She was born, and then the House was attacked. Persephone quite literally had to let her child go, in hopes that she'd be okay. Persephone probably sits in the imprisoned House, thinking of her poor girl and how she's once again missed watching her child grow up.

Persephone has had to experience the grief of a mother's loss two times. Do you think she cradles her arms and remembers how small Melinoë was when she saw her last, and if she's even still alive? Do you think she stares into the Styx and remembers the night she ran away after Zagreus was born without breath?

Persephone. Her one wish has been denied over and over again. The goddess of verdure; the growing green of plants, was unable to help and watch her own children grow.

[reyrapidsbutgayer]

Ranking All Elden Ring Bosses by Fuckability

It was only a matter of time until I made a post like this.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with and are not actively trying to kill you.

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Dragonkin Soldier:

Mindless beast

Astel, Naturalborn of the Void

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Fia's Champions:

Ghosts, simps.

Regal Ancestor Spirit

Animal

Erdtree Avatar

A plant

Great Wyrm Theodorix

Mindless beast.

Ulcerated Tree Spirit

A plant, no junk

Tibia Mariner:

Skeleton

Red Wolf of the Champion:

Animal.

Full-Grown Fallingstar Beast

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Abductor Virgin

First off, just some snakes in a robot. Second, virgin.

Erdtree Burial Watchdog

Stone gargoyle

Crystalians

Non-organic

Mad Pumpkin Heads

Unable to consent due to madness.

Cemetery Shade

Unable to consent due to mind controlling parasite.

Spirit-Caller Snail

Animal

Runebear

Animal

Miranda the Blighted Bloom

A plant

Guardian Golem

Stone gargoyle

Starscourge Radahn:

Unable to consent due to madness

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Elden Beast:

Too catholic.

Sir Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing:

Dick game weak - unironically posts joker memes.

Omenkiller:

Basically a cop.

Necromancer Garris:

Killed his family, not a good husband.

Royal Revenant:

Won't stop screaming (in an unsexy way)

Godrick the Grafted:

Incel - Also all that murder and torture business but mostly the Incel stuff.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Valiant Gargoyle:

Could probably have sex if it wanted to, but is kinda going through a lot right now. Ya know, that whole "Is made of several corpses mashed together" thing.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella:

Look, I ALSO wanted her to higher up on this list, but let's be honest here. Her body is rotting and falling apart, she just isn't up for sex in her current form. In her prime? She'd be top of the list. She's the daughter of Marika and Radagon, she'd be playing fuck/marry/kill with every warrior who crossed her path. (in that order)

Death Rite Bird:

I think it might be physically capable of sex, but is too busy burning corpses to bother with stuff like that.

Black Blade Kindred:

Same reason as the Valiant Gargoyle but you might have like 2% more of a chance because they are goth.

Maliketh, the Black Blade:

Would normally be a sex god, but is too religious. Probably took a vow about this sort of thing.

Morgott, the Omen King:

You kidding me? This guy has the same energy as a repressed youth pastor. He's gonna be a virgin till the day he dies. The dude sided with the same religious order that locked him a sewer and tried to kill him. He's not out there getting phone numbers he's too busy praying and judging others for their 'impure thoughts'.

Draconic Tree Sentinel:

Married to his job, also physically chained to his horse. He ain't taking off that armor anytime soon.

Wormface:

Too sad, leave him alone his face is full of worms.

Tree Sentinel:

Same as the Draconic Tree Sentinel but he's a tiny bit more naive so you might have a better chance.

Elder Dragon Greyoll:

Too sleepy, but still kinda a milf.

Grafted Scion:

There might be some genitals in there somewhere but I don't think they know how or even want to use them.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Esgar, Priest of Blood:

No sense of hygiene, is always covered in blood (in an unsexy way)

Mohg, Lord of Blood:

This loser is dripping with all the least sexy bodily fluids and he has sharp horns sticking out of him. Even if you got him in bed you'd only enjoy like 5% of it. Plus you just know he'd be all needy afterwards and try to get you to join his MLM.

Borealis the Freezing Fog:

Too cold, not a snuggler.

Elemer of the Briar:

The armor stays ON during sex.

Kindred of Rot:

It's like all the worst possible aspects of alien biology, it won't be nearly as fun as you hoped.

Sanguine Noble:

Same as all the other Mohg followers, too sticky and too smelly.

Decaying Ekzykes:

He's sick right now, leave him alone.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Loretta, Knight of the Haligtree:

I'm sure she'd be a decent lover. Maybe a little overzealous but she'd has good intentions.

Grave Warden Duelist:

I mean these guys are hot and probably fuck like a truck but they are not the most caring lovers, also they are covered in live snakes so there is that.

Night's Cavalry:

If you like goth knights I'm sure they'd be fine.

Alabaster Lord:

Their skin probably feels like stone, but I bet they can pull off all sorts of freaky zero-g sex stuff if you ask them.

Onyx Lord:

Same as the Alabaster Lord but slightly more goth.

Fell Twins:

Once you get past the horns and stuff I bet the Omens are actually pretty good in bed, just watch out.

Demi-Human Queens:

I feel like all Demi-humans are pretty good lovers but their biology probably has some unexpected drawbacks.

Stonedigger Troll:

If you can get past the texture and the size I bet they could be decent in bed.

Flying Dragon Greyll:

A surprisingly unsexy dragon, but a dragon is a dragon and still worth at least a one night stand.

A dragon willing to kill racist magic users, earns them a few extra points.

Glintstone Dragon Smarag:

Beastman of Farum Azula:

On one hand the Beastmen probably have crazy mating skills, but they are also zombies, which detracts some points for all the decay.

Battlemage Hugues:

Contrary to popular belief, Wizards are not very good at sex. They spend all their time studying instead of partying, at least Hugues is willing to get his hands dirty.

Commander O'Neil:

Seems like a decent guy, but probably won't shut up about his time in the military. Also he is infected with scarlet rot so that might be a mood killer.

Bloodhound Knight Darriwil:

The bloodhound knights are probably pretty wild in bed if you can earn their loyalty, but good luck with that.

Adan, Thief of Fire:

The dude committed heresy, that has to earn him some sexy points.

Soldier of Godrick:

He's a good boy, he's doing his job so throw him a bone.

Flying Dragon Agheel:

One of the first dragons you encounter, so he earns some points for style.

Demi-Human Chief:

Same as the queens, but probably a bit rougher in bed.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Lichdragon Fortissax:

A much sexier dragon, you know they were hooking up with Godwin. Only loses some points for all the death rot.

Crucible Knight Siluria:

A bit gloomy, but I bet the crucible knights can do all sorts of freaky stuff with their animal body parts.

Mimic Tear:

A slippery liquid shapeshifter, need I say more?

Commander Niall:

A way better guy than O'Niel, plus he just a bit more daddy energy.

Fire Giant:

Once you get past his size, his sadness and the giant fell god of destruction in his chest, I bet he's got something going on.

Ancient Hero of Zamor:

Gives me Hercules/Amazonian vibes, I could be into it.

Cleanrot Knight:

Lesbian activities detected.

Crucible Knight:

These guys have tails, horns, wings and big old throat sacks. Imagine the possibilities.

Glintstone Dragon Adula:

Has a sword. If you hear "Dragon holding a sword" and your pants aren't already off, we can't be friends.

Bols, Carian Knight:

He seems like a good boy.

Scaly Misbegotten:

I feel like the Misbegotten have some really interesting possibilities with their animal biology. I bet they have bonobo type societies and that could be fun.

Leonine Misbegotten:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Misbegotten Warrior:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Crucible Knight Ordovis:

Has all the desirable traits of a Crucible Knight but I also imagine they are super into threesomes.

Perfumer Tricia:

She seems really nice, and would be a super attentive lover. Plus she probably has access to crazy drugs and could hook you up.

Nox Swordstress & Nox Priest:

You just know that the Nox were getting up to crazy hot and crazy unethical experiments in their underground cities. These two probably get up to some wild shit and they are inviting you to join them.

Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon:

As she is now, I bet she'd be too sad to really be in a relationship again. But she kept up with Radagon and you just know she has some tricks up her sleeves that could make you abandon the golden order.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Dragonlord Placidusax:

Has two male heads and three female heads, imagine...

Ancient Dragon Lansseax:

Formed a whole freaky dragon/human cult and you just know they got into some eyes-wide-shut orgies behind those doors.

Godfrey, First Elden Lord (Hoarah Loux):

We all knew he'd be this high on the list. He was just a normal dude but he managed to keep pace with Queen Marika (Who is basically a goddess of fertility) for a good long while. He will fold you in half (on the battlefield and in the bedroom.)

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Radagon of the Golden Order:

He sucks in all the worst ways, but I mean... You can't NOT. Both Radagon and Marika are the embodiment of evil but they managed to suck and fuck their way across an entire continent for generations. You HAVE to give a try at least once.

Godskin Duo:

Oh my god will it be awful with all those flayed human skins, but you know you are still gonna have to. They can stretch and do all sorts of freaky stuff with their bodies, plus they kill gods and nothing is sexier than heresy.

Vyke, Knight of the Roundtable:

The dude is a mad killer but... he can still probably get it, might as well give it a try.

God-Devouring Serpent / Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy:

Personally I wouldn't, he's a loser and will probably kill you. But he is also a giant snake made up of squirming hands doing all sorts of sexual experiments, I can't blame you if you want to give it a taste.

Black Knife Assassin:

They committed a whole lot of treason but the power of armored lesbians is too hard to resist.

Patches:

If you are already having sex with from software characters, you gotta give Patches at least one attempt. When you wake up he'll have robbed you, but you knew what you were getting into.

[hoeforhao]

RED AND CREAM ✨️🧨🎈🩸Wonwoo Oneshot

pairing : military official wonwoo × fem!reader

genre : pwp, pure smut

warnings : mention of blood, unprotected sex ( wrap it up guys ) , creampie, abusive talks, minors DNI

author's note : so umm I kind of wrote this smut for someone but then thought why not post it with wonwoo in mind. Bear with the he(s) pls.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

As he stood there looking at her with dark clouded eyes with his hair all messed up from the intense fight, blood dripping down his knuckles onto his black boots, she saw the devil in him. The devil staring at her, telling her that he has finally came for his daughter. That he has finally found his worthy offspring to spread his bloodied rays into the world.

Stepping close to him, she looks into his red burning eyes as if she's gonna light him up on fire that very moment, as if she's going to draw out those popping veins in his eyes with her red nails.

Pushing his legs apart with hers she stands between them with her black heels on while her hands take his fist in hers and gently swipe off the blood off of them with her fingers and put them into her craving mouth, gently sucking onto them as if giving him the temptation of how she would treat his dick so good yet so rough between her cavities.

All this time her knees move up and down his already tightening up crotch, sometimes pushing it a bit too hard earning muffled up moans from him. Because he's a man. He cannot show how weak and needy his woman is making him feel now. Being done with sucking off all of his enemy's blood and injecting it into her system, her hands now move upto his neck to hold it tight and firm in place while her lips curve up into a satanic smile.

She quickly brings her mouth up to the bone protruding so prominent out of his neck and instantly plants her teeth onto the skin, pulling it with her canines making tears swell up in his eyes from the intense sting.

"If you thought I'll let his blood infuse into kine and make me impure, you're so wrong honey. I'll make sure that yours takes control on his and completely overpowers him. I want to see you overpower each and every individual on the face of this planet and be at the very top" and with that she bites into his skin at animalistic force and draws out blood like a vampire feasting on its meal after ages. As if a blood thirsty demon got the first taste of vanilla sweet blood burning with rage finally on her lips, all the while he cannot touch her or do anything to her because he was pinned down.

But she very well knew that she would be overturned in a minute if he truly tried for it. Having had enough of his woman being a brat he finally engulfed her legs by his and pushed her down onto the floor. He stood tall before her, while she lay on the cold marble with a sinister smirk knowing quite well what was coming next.

Bending down to her level the very first instinct he had was to rip off ever piece of clothing from her body, making her completely naked infront of the beast that was now to feast on the vulnerable little prey infront of him. Having his legs placed on both sides of her shaking ones, he took her lips in his. And no it was not a gentle kiss at all. It was a hungry, desperate one. One to prove how he will always have the upper hand over her, how she will just be a playtoy under him.

While his teeth pulled onto her lower lips, popping the slender veins there making blood drip down the corner of her mouth, his hands played with her boobs. More appropriately abused them. His nails drew deep and sharp around her supple jiggly skin, leaving behind deep rooted tracks of his invasion onto her body and soul and mind.

Shifting from her lips, he now focuses on slapping the living shit out of her breasts, earning constant pleas of mercy from her, knowing that the undertone in them was nothing but her asking for more brutality.

When he's finally done abusing her chest, leaving it all red with his hand prints, as if something turns in him and he gently places his mouth on her nipples and suckles onto it like a child feeding on his mother. But oh well isn't his entire persona deceiving? While his mouth work like a complete gentleman around her mounds, his fingers find her throbbing clit and aggressively rubs it's like it's some sort of enemy he needs slain down.

Her eyes rolled from the intense pain and pleasure that her body was feeling at the same time. She licks off her own blood from her mouth and slightly pushes up her head as if to see what is happening to her bare body, only to find that it's a red hill down there. Every part of her skin is burning aflame. And in that very painful moment, he quickly unzips the tent in his pants and brings out his rock hard dick to now graze up and down her sloppy cunt.

Never giving her the pleasure to feel him inside her, while she claws out his toned back, he slaps the tip of his dick onto her throbbing pussy and sometimes teases her hole with it by pressing it a bit down and taking it out immediately. Not being able to take the torment anymore she takes things into her hand and harshly slaps him across the face.

That was his last string. How dare a bitch have the audacity to slap a man like him. And with that he presses himself in her in seconds without any warning, without giving her the time to even adjust to him.

"You wanted it so bad you whore hmm? How you like daddy's dick tearing up your walls into shreds now huh" he runts into her soft delicate hole like a complete animal gone feral, like a tiger getting a good meat after days.

He could see tears rolling down her eyes onto the floor from his intense thrusts, him completely ruining her pussy for the new few days so that she remembers he is who she belongs to, every inch of her body belongs to him and is only for him to ravish and eat and feast on.

With one more push down her cunt, he feels his high riding him as he releases all his anger, frustration into her, making his cum ooze out of her swelled up walls, mixed with some traces of blood from the intense abuse.

[apas-95]

I think 'degrowth' as a rhetoric is flawed, because it fails to correspond with the direction that sustainable development must take on the local scale - a massive increase in technological advancement and deployment, such that inefficient techniques forced into continuance by impoverishment can be phased out and overcome. Peasants living alongside a polluted river and subsisting off drought-withered, runoff-poisoned crops do not need 'degrowth', not even upstream - they need agricultural price controls, mechanisation, and advanced scientific institions that can make decontamination and reclamation possible. The vast majority of the world needs (and rightfully expects) their liberation to come with an upsurge of political, economic, technological, and scientific growth. The imperial core, where this rhetoric apparently finds its niche, will not be let off the hook - your automotive plants cannot simply be destroyed, the technology and expertise they sequester would be the lifeblood of millions, if and when they are re-tooled to manufacture tractors and trolleybusses. We must redirect and channel the growth and progress of human society, not attempt to hinder or reverse it - reaction in the strictest sense.

[max1461]

I don't think it really "means" anything, but I think it's kind of interesting that a lot of human societies have been quite squeamish about sex—in particular viewing it as a worldly pleasure which is gross, sinful, or unvirtuous to engage in—while generally not feeling squeamish about eating in the same way.

I think this is interesting because, conceptually, sex is actually pretty tame. It is (or at least should be) pleasurable for both parties, it's connected with both romantic love and the creation of new life (things which people generally valorize), etc. Obviously I understand the practical reasons why cultures might frown on unrestrained expression of sexuality in a world without birth control, but on a purely conceptual level sex seems pretty wholesome all around.

On the other hand, eating is rather disturbing as an idea, isn't it? Eating necessarily involves killing—even eating plants. As heterotrophs we literally cannot eat anything without ending life in order to do it. And of course most people now and throughout history have eaten meat, which means that eating involves slaughter. It's a gruesome thing; the pleasure we take from food is intimately and inherently tied to death. Eating is an act of destruction which is necessary to nourish the physical body. Surely this should be regarded, by the sorts of people inclined to the idea, as the greatest symbol of the fallen nature of the material world as compared to the spiritual. Surely it is hunger and not lust that should be the archetype of sinful material desire.

While ascetics of various backgrounds do seem to have mentioned gluttony (it is after all one of the seven deadly sins), my impression is that usually lust is a much greater concern for them. Why? Because lust is more tempting, a greater threat? I don't think so. I think it's because food is more tempting. Because you can go a lifetime without sex if you actually decide to, but a few days without food and your brain will basically shut down your capacity for higher reasoning and make you eat. Even when desire for food is railed against, it is generally merely excessive desire (gluttony), and not, as with lust, desire-at-all (hunger). I think only the most hardcore Buddhist monks take umbrage with hunger. Because lust is small potatoes; hunger has us all in its thrall. No matter how pacifistic we think ourselves to be, hunger drives us to kill and kill and kill. Isn't there a little more inherent horror in that than in, uh, people having sex?

At least the Jains seem to have taken the inherent-horror-in-eating stuff seriously.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Since you're at the doctor's, medical headcanons. Who's afraid of needles, who's the biggest baby when sick, who insists that everyone just let them die, etc. etc.

Short answer before long one bc I have to drive but:

They're all deep, deep into the morass of the horrors and miracles of The Flesh.

---

The Karakura kids are weird because Ichigo's dad is an emergency trauma doctor and Ichigo's family loves above the clinic. Any time his friends come over there's a round of "so what wild shit happened in the ER since last time?"

(continued under the cut)

Uryuu's dad is also a surgeon, and the thing that gets him and Ichigo back on speaking terms again is more or less second-hand shop talk.

Orihime has been obsessed with emergency medicine since her brother died. She wanted to know what she should have done, and can do so it won't happen again.

Keigo has been carrying a first aid kit in his backpack since he became friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki in middle school. He's got an exceptional talent for patching someone up enough to get through English class without the teacher noticing the injuries after a lunchtime brawl.

Tatsuki started peeking over Orihime's shoulder at her notes on joint trauma and developed a talent for targeting her kicks and punches to deal maximum damage in karate tournaments.

Mizurio knows a suspicious amount about neurology and how pain works because his "uncles" keep telling him about techniques used by enforcers to extract payment or information.

Chad got heavily into Oxacan folk medicine because once he stopped getting in fights, he needed something else to occupy him, and his abuela decided to teach him how to cook. There is not a huge difference between good food and good medicine. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of chemoreactive plants and chemistry you can do on a stove.

Every single one of the Karakura kids has had something medical happen to them or a loved one, and every single one is now peering into the mysteries of the flesh about it.

---

The shinigami are worse.

Shinigami broadly have better physical resistance, esp because they're reaping the injury stabilizing benefits Senjumaru wove into the Shinigami Shushako.

But they live in a feudal society that has only SOME of the benefits of modern medicine, and the few instances of disease-mitigating infrastructure are far between. It's COMMON for the souls of the rukongai and Seireitei alike to have a sibling who died in infancy or a parent who died in child birth or of an infection.

Societally, they are still in the very earliest phases of the war against pestilence and it gives one a very warped perspective on all things medical. Especially if you happen to be in the immediate sphere of influence of soul society's greatest warrior against death:

Retsu Unohana.

I cannot overstate the impact this woman has had, and you don't do things like "decimate the nationwide infant mortality rate" or "pioneer organ transplant surgery" without being a bit mad, and she has lived so long and done so much that the madness has clarified into a single extremely dense point of determination and she warps the reality of those around her. Woe and Blessings alike to those within her event horizon.

---

The Arrancar are even worse.

Hollow resilience to injury allows them to body much, much worse injuries than the humans and it has an impact on etiquette. Biting off a hand because someone won't stop bothering you is a normal way to establish a boundary. Limb loss and regrowth is common, and disembowelment about as serious as a bad cold.

The food situation is even more dire. Smaller hollows, ones that used to be plants or animals or human-hollows who have a modicum of self control are weak, but lucky. They can survive off the ambient reiatsu in the atmosphere of Hueco Mundo, or the naturally cleaving fragments of soul that fall off the living.

Everyone else needs to hunt. And the more powerful a hollow becomes, the more it needs to consume, and the richer it's prey must be. The only really rich souls are other sapient beings. Any hollow at the level of Shrieker or Grand Fisher or higher is trapped in a hellish metabolic cycle of cannibalism, and the only way out is through.

The primary killer of hollows is other hollows. They know what they're doing. They're looking their fellow beings in the eye, the ones who understand them best, and deciding that their own life is worth their friend's. For all their ability to handle the slings and arrows of physical trauma, hollows are worse at handling the emotional consequences of this cycle. Monstrous Egotism is a best case scenario for them.

In practice, this means that while it's perfectly acceptable to bite someone's hand off for annoying you, it would be rude of you to spit it back at them. At least eat it!

I realize this last bit is not, strictly speaking, medical, but you can see how the ability to survive being turned into an anatomical Venus and having to live on a diet of the flesh of others would completely recontextualize how hollows think about Illness.

---

I will do the fun individual headcanons when I get home, but this is a good broader framework to consider for now.

[inkonparchment]

there's a man in the woods | Leon Kennedy

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

summary: everything changes when you find a man beaten, bruised and bleeding half to death in the woods.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: horror imagery. unsettling themes. mentions/description of blood, decaying flesh, organs, guns. mention of plagas. canon-typical violence. injuries. slow burn. eventual romance. hurt/comfort. plot armour goes crazy. language.

a/n: i have no idea what i am doing so please bare with me hehe. i would like to apologize for the lack of dialogue in this.

series masterlist

¤

Chapter 1

It starts the same way it always does.

A room so bare it may as well have never existed, a room so claustrophobic it may as well not have any oxygen, a room so untouched by light it may as well have been forgotten in time. And you; always in the centre.

Agitated by the slow sound of dripping water. Drip, drip, drip. You can never figure out where the noise comes from; above, below or one of the sides? You can’t tell because you cannot see, blinking rapidly pleading that some stray beam of light enters. But no, nothing is coming, no one is coming.

Breaths become shallow, chest constricting in pain as you fall to your knees, hands pressing over your heart as bile washes up in your mouth, tasting bitter. Then it’s the walls, they close in at a pace that you still can’t figure out. Helpless to its whim. And it almost does feel like a predator playing with its prey.

But just before it can crush you, embed your being in its rotten surface, soaking in your crimson colours as you lie awake, powerless to fight against your fate, tears wetting your cheeks as your screams of terror are heard by no one.

No one is coming. No one is ever coming.

A flicker of light, the gentlest hue of gold, and that’s all it ever takes for you to plant your feet, nails scraping against the stone, and run. You don’t dare to blink, terrified that it will vanish and leave you stranded. The light is like a distant star, always out of reach, mocking your efforts to escape the darkness.

It’s frustrating, legs feeling like they’ve seeped in molasses as you grunt and heave and fight to not sink. But it is fruitless as you feel a stabbing sensation in your chest, air exiting your lungs, watching in horror as your veins turn black, desperately clawing against your skin to stop it.

Repent and seek penance.

And then you awake in your bed.

Your eyes flutter open, the sound of your heart prominent in your ears as you lay in your pool of sweat, trying to control your breathing. You see nothing and neither do you sense anything, flaring the sense of panic in your chest.

Your fingers splay against the material of your bedsheets, inhaling the familiar scent of your pillowcase to pull yourself back into reality. Three deep breaths. The sound of a whine grabs your attention, brown eyes staring into yours, ears standing up in alert and the usual wag of her tail was nowhere to be seen.  She must have heard you in your sleep.

You manage a smile, reaching out to pat her between the ears, “Sorry, Luna. Did I worry you, girl?”  

The sound of the alarm startles you, groaning as you shut it off before it reaches the third sound. You peel the covers off of you, a layer of sweat stuck on your skin, cringing at the dampness that you found beneath you. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you wait for your eyes to adjust to the light. The ache in your shoulder returns, fingers moving deftly against your skin to ease the pain, hand slipping momentarily due to the slickness in your palms.   

It’s a bit suffocating still, your clothes sticking to your body, the vague dampness on your sheets and the duvet twisted between your legs, almost locking you in. You kick it away from you, the material falling onto the floor with a gentle thump as you finally stand up from the bed, giving Luna one more pat on the head which finally has her tail wagging again.

It’s still dark out, you note. A soft breeze blows in through the cracks of your window, gently jostling the cotton curtains. You peer out for a while, the first story window giving you a view of the woods, the trees standing still despite the obvious wind. But over the top of the thick foliage, in the far off distance, painting the pale heavens is a flock of birds, flying about in agitation.

Crossing your room to enter the bathroom, you close the door behind you with a soft click and hear the gentle thump of Luna taking her spot on the other side. You stand still. Hands clutching the marble of the sink, letting the coolness engulf your burning palms and you stare in the mirror only to find exhaustion looking back at you. Bloodshot eyes, the dark circles and lifeless cheeks.

A hollowed out version of the person you used to be, knowing it’s you but still being unable to recognize yourself in any reflection. You clutch the heart pendant that rests against your neck, its edges digging into your skin. What would your mother say if she saw you now?

Cold water splashes against your skin as you turn away from the mirror, shutting the sink off as you entered the shower. You don’t wait for it to heat up, finding this a better method to wake up, to ground you, to ensure that you’re in your own home.

And you scrub, almost desperately, against your skin, hoping that this would be enough to wash away the rot you feel festering in the depths of your stomach. Your hands move faster, fear beginning to slowly creep up on your back, long bony fingers tightening around your neck, waiting for the black veins to appear.

But they don’t.

The water is shut off, a towel wrapped around you and you’re out before the steam suffocates you. It’s gotten brighter outside, the first few rays of the sun peeking out over the horizon.

Luna follows you diligently as you dress yourself, earning herself scratches on her black-brown coat, patiently waiting for you to go downstairs for her breakfast. You undo the lock on your door and make headway for the kitchen, ordering to Luna to ‘stay’ as you fill her bowl up, take a few steps back, pause and then give her the green light.

It’s your usual routine, nothing out of the ordinary. Your isolation forced your hand to establish a routine for without you would feel yourself slowly descend towards insanity. You needed a purpose, no matter how small. After one decidedly panicked evening, you had brought back a handful of chicks to raise with nothing but your sheer will and a short guide book to help you.

Your need for a purpose was fulfilled and the chicks grew into beautiful hens.

Breakfast. Tend to the hens. Hunt for meat. Lunch. Take a walk. Stare at the landline hanging idly on your kitchen wall. Read. Dinner. Play with Luna. Sleep. Repeat.

But something feels wrong today, off, almost as though the world had tilted on its axis and you’re the only one who notices.

An egg falls and cracks on the floor as you fetch it from the fridge. The toast comes out burnt on the edges. Your tea doesn’t seep well.

But you don’t have time to linger on it, don’t have the energy too, already drained by your hellish subconscious. You need to check on your hens. You whistle for Luna at your front door, shrugging on your jacket and tightening the laces of your boots; always a good sense to dress for the terrain.

And then you reach into the small closet by the door, wrapping your fingers around the cool metal of your rifle. You check the cartridge, reload, slip a few extra ammos in your pocket, pull the strap on your shoulder and step outside on the porch.

The dew is glistening in the morning sun, shaking itself off the blades of grass as Luna bounds through them excitedly, not venturing far into the tall woods. You smile, watching her stretch her legs, descending down the stairs and looking up to the sky, frowning at the lack of yellows and oranges painting the blue canvas.

The sun has seemingly vanished, snuffed out like a cigarette bud on the pavement by the heavy rolls of dark clouds encapsulating the sky. The air smells different, charged and almost expecting to see sparks fly if you run your hand through the air fast enough.

Frowning, you stare hard at the trees, watching as far as your eyes take you through the rough foliage, the twisted roots overlaying on the ground. You wait, ears perked for any sounds of a howl, a break in the branch or a low growl, grip tightening around the leather strap of your rifle.

But nothing comes and you ease, although still unable to shake off the feeling of something amiss. Maybe you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

You twist on your heels, beginning the march to your little coop when you feel your feet falter, freezing at the sound of a loud crow echoing so loudly, it felt like a gunshot in the stilled air. You twist your head to your right, heart loud in your ears as you're met with beady, black eyes and a pitch black bird perched on your railing. A raven.

It bobs its head, twisting and hopping on the railing until it’s looking at you dead in the eye. You hold in your breath. It waits a beat before suddenly brandishing its wings to their full span and lunging at you, making you stagger backwards as it flies past your head, talons scratching your coated arm that you use to cover your face.

Loud, urgent barks fill the air. It drains the colour from your face, hand flying instinctively to your rifle as your panicked eyes dart around you in search. “Luna!?” And you don’t see her, finally registering the sound coming from the side of your house, near the chicken coop.

You run, stumbling on the uneven ground, the rocks poking out of the soil hindering your speed. The little coop comes into view, Luna barking maddeningly in its direction, teeth bared and hind legs charged up. You don’t see the obvious danger, taking a quick scan of your surroundings as you jog up to Luna, hand darting out to her collar as you try to soothe her, “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s-”

And your mouth runs dry.

The metal screen that you so dedicatedly had fixed a few weeks back, making the treacherous journey of two hours to and back from the nearest town, to keep out the predators from reaching your beloved hens was torn open from the side, the carcass of one of your chicken flung on the ground, its pristine white coat now drenched in maroon, organs exposed to the sky.

You feel a burn in the back of your throat, contents of your stomach churning viciously as you find a symphony of insects nestled inside, eating away at the decaying flesh.

You bite back the burn, shutting your eyes momentarily and exhaling a shaky breath. You need to get rid of this, and fast before it attracts all the unwanted predators in the area.

You do a quick count on the remaining hens, kick the metal screen back in place as best you can, gritting your teeth and rush back in your home to fetch a plastic bag, making sure to take Luna with you. You don’t want her engaging in any foolhardy duels with the coyotes. Your hands shake as you rip out a trash bag, making sure to knock on the wood for good measure.

The sharp noise of distaste from your mother runs through your mind. She never liked your belief in superstitions.

You shove the rotting carcass in the bag as best you can, making sure to leave no entrails behind. No visits by any wolves or bears would be appreciated right now. The sky above you begins to rumble, sneaking a nervous glance as you walk through the woods, weaving through the branches and roots, holding the bag at a distance as Luna carefully carves out a path in front of you. You need to be quick to avoid the rain, wanting to not get caught up in the storm.

You shake the bag as best you can when you’re satisfied with how far away the distance is from your home, emptying the carcass. Your heart falls when you notice there isn’t a single speckle of white left, all of it tainted. “Okay, girl. Let’s head back and enjoy a day of snuggling on the couch.” You scratch her chin, the eager wave of her tail easing the tension in your shoulders.

You make your way back, slightly different to the one you took in case you had left behind any scent. It’s quiet in the trees today. No rustling of the leaves, no chirping of the birds and no scampering of little feet on the muddy ground. There was a deafening silence today, an eerie atmosphere, only the sounds of branches snapping under your boots in the air.

And then you sense the shift.

You sense it long before Luna stills, ears perked up fully and taking her stance to lunge. The hair on the back of your neck rises. You feel your heart drumming in your chest, senses heightened as adrenaline slowly pumps into your system. The stench of despair; you know it all so well.

Your hand once again reaches for the rifle, shrugging it off your shoulder as you bring it up, finger lined up next to the trigger, breath slowing down as your steps become feather-like, gliding forward. There is barely any light out now, despite the morning hour, whatever left of it seeping in through the thick foliage like spotlights following the heroine on stage.

You suck in a sharp breath.

Lying there on the forest floor is a man. His limbs are sprawled, hands outstretched away from his body, head turned to the side, propped up on the roots. His blond hair is scattered on his forehead, sticking to the skin underneath, skin so pale and ghostly that he may as well be made of porcelain, decorated prettily with shades of black and blue.

His lips are parted, a gash rushing through them and a stream of blood dripping along its side. He lays in a pool of red, oozing out from underneath and extending as though in the shape of battered wings, his body marred in cuts and bruises, some deep and some shallow, leaving no part of him untainted. His shirt is ripped, holes in his pants. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, a faint wheeze accompanying each exhale.

But that’s not what’s jarring you, tipping off every alarm in your system, the rot returning in your stomach.

It’s the guns. The gear. The holsters. The grenades. The knives.

Who the fuck was this guy? And how the fuck did he find you?

No one was supposed to be able find you, no one.

You were promised.

if u see this pop up on ao3 in the next few weeks or something, don't worry, that'll be my evil twin. thank you for reading<33

[leqonsluv3r]

bf!leon kennedy

—ID!leon kennedy x soft!croquette reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: i cannot be controlled anymore. i promised i’d make it a series and im delivering slowly but surely. have faith in me lol, im doing my best to get requests out. i have them closed currently just so i can catch up and write them all in a timely manner. enjoy ID!bf leon kennedy in the mean time.

bf!leon kennedy who is getting too old for the soft cream sheets on your bed, he wants to just rip them off and demand something more mature. but he knows you wouldn’t like that. you practically yell at him anytime he tosses one of your stuffed animals too hard off the bed.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you out to dinner, makes sure your happy. he knows he’s not around as much as he should be so he takes the time when he can to treat you special. your his girl, he needs to.

bf!leon kennedy who makes sure your sleeping constantly when your next to him, even when he wakes up from nightmares. your scent of jasmine and laundry detergent makes him at ease, proves that everything is real and he’s really here with you.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you pack him notes in his lunch when he heads to the agency everyday. your cursive hand writing is sloppy but adorable, always writing for him to have a good day and that you love him. he’s just happy he has you to remind him when things get hard.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you press kisses all over him and hug him to death whenever he comes home unscathed from a mission or just a regular day at the agency. he loves when you show your love for him, always making him feel special and good. like all the things he had endured at this point have been worth it.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you shopping on his days off, not happy he has to stand around and hold your bags. but when you try your cute little skirts and dresses on, it makes it a tiny bit worth it. you would look pretty in a paper bag and he would still look at you all the same.

bf!leon kennedy who has your morning and nighttime skincare routine down, he watches you do it every morning and every night, never knowing that so many pieces came with you looking so pretty and gorgeous for him. but anything to make you happy, even if you don’t need all that to be beautiful in his eyes.

bf!leon kennedy who watches you organize your books on your bookshelf, clean up your shared space of your guys shared bedroom. all your little knickknacks and jewelry and frilly clothes. he doesn’t know how you do it, or why you like such a mundane looking room, but if it pleases you, it’s fine with him.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you crawl on-top of him in the early hours of the morning before he goes to work and press kisses everywhere. your lips pressing across his jaw, his cheeks, his neck and his lips. any place your pretty little self can reach, he’s letting you do it. you waking him up like this is another reason why his heart is so enamored with you in the first place.

bf!leon kennedy who helps you when you need to wash all your stuffed animals and sheets, helping you with chores. he likes being domestic with you, it makes him feel like he’s normal, like this is a normal life. like this matters, like his life has purpose with you.

bf!leon kennedy who drives you to the park or to the plant nursery so you can be around nature. he loves how you admire each plant anytime your out like this, the way you care for such things. it makes him happy to see you enjoying such a small part of life, gives him hope.

bf!leon kennedy who celebrates your guys three year anniversary, buying you anything and everything you want. taking you out all day. he cooks for you and makes your favorite dish, he buys you pink roses. he lets you dress in your dress and be all pretty for him.

bf!leon kennedy who eats with you, talking with you like he normally did everyday. but this time it’s different and leon is going to prove just how much he loves you. he slides a box out and watches your face change. you open the box and feel your eyes water when you see a diamond engagement ring.

bf!leon kennedy who watches as you nod rapidly, pretty tears and say yes over and over again. he slips it on your finger and smiles softly at you, watching as you practically hop over the table and hug and kiss him like your life depends on it. you smother him and kisses, tangling your sweet mouth with his.

bf!leon kennedy, who is very proud to not call himself your boyfriend anymore. but your fiancé and he’s proud of that title. of making you so happy and obligating to do that every single day for the rest of his life. he wants you everyday, every night and everywhere in between. he’s found his safe haven in this world, and it’s you. it always will be.

an: thank you for reading, reposting and likes are greatly appreciated. i’m trying to keep my posting schedule up and should have requests open when i’m finished with all the ones in my drafts. thank you guys for being patient with me. i love you all, kisses. xx

[peeweekey]

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Four

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut at the beginning. 18+

Summary: Y/N and Eris’s wedding day is approaching fast and Y/N has some final preparations to make.

A/N: There will be a fifth and final part that I cannot wait to write!

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The morning was peaceful and quiet, birds chirped happily outside the window. A light breeze shook the branches of the tree looming near the window. Everything was peaceful and content. Save for the moans and slapping skin that filled the grandest bedroom in the Autumn Palace.

Y/N clutched onto Eris tightly, shameless moans slipping past her lips. Her whole body was alight, everywhere Eris touched burned so beautifully. Their skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat that soaked into the sheets they were tangled in. Ever since the two had woken that morning, they had been lost in the pleasure they provided for one another. Not once did Y/N wish she were anywhere else. If she was told that she was banished from stepping out from the bounds of the large ornate bed, she wouldn’t complain. 

Eris kissed the corner of her mouth and trailed his lips down her neck. Y/N only arched her body into his. While one of his hands was planted on the bed next to her head, the other was inked with hers. An action that made Y/N turn into a puddle the moment he did it. Still, fingers were intertwined. 

From the way his thrusts seemed to be getting sloppy, Y/N could tell Eris was close. And so was she. For too long she had been on that edge, wanting nothing more than to tip over the edge. But she wanted to go over that edge with Eris. 

Digging her nails into Eris’s shoulder’s, Y/N threw her head back. “Eris…keep…keep doing that.”

The pleasure was almost too much. Y/N had never been with anyone before that made her feel the way Eris did. He always knew where to touch her and how to touch her. On the days where all she needed was comfort, he made sure that he was gentle with her and made her feel so loved. And on the days where all she wanted to be was fucked hard, Eris obliged. Even on the days where she wanted to take control, Eris let her and happily took whatever she gave him. 

“Y/N,” Eris panted, lips now hovering above hers. “I am close, my love.”

“Me too,” Y/N said breathlessly. She wanted nothing more than to come.

Eris crashed his lips to hers as his thrusts increased as he chased his release. With only a few more thrusts, Eris came, biting down on Y/N’s lip. As soon as she felt that first spurt within her, Y/N moaned loudly as she came, thrusting her own hips up. Eris’s thrusts slowed as he slowly came down from his high. Y/N opened her eyes and looked into Eris’s. The pleasure on his face still remained and she was sure that she shared a similar expression. 

They breath mixed together as the pleasure in their bodies gradually subsided. As Eris pulled out of her, Y/N moaned softly before sighing in contentment. Eris pulled Y/N into his side and brushed her hair away from her face. 

Y/N watched his movements with loving eyes. She wasn’t ever sure her heart was capable enough for one person. But here she was laying in the arms of her mate and soon to be husband. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eris questioned, his hold tightening on her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Just about how much I love you,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And how beautiful you are.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way his cheeks tinted the lightest shade of red. No matter how many times Y/N tenderly told Eris how beautiful he was, he would always get flustered. She loved it. 

“I was thinking that we have a bath,” Eris asked. “As much as I loved our adventures in this bed this morning, I would like to clean the sweat from my body.”

“I agree,” Y/N said. “We have a wedding to finish planning.”

Eris groaned. “Why couldn’t we have a small-scale wedding again? If one more person comes up to me to ask what colour I want the tablecloths, I am going to set the whole hall on fire.”

“Because, my love, you are the one who insisted on having a grand wedding,” Y/N said.

Eris lifted himself from the bed, gently dragging Y/N with him. “It is only because it is what you wanted.”

“It was,” Y/N replied. “But I would be happy to marry you in a shack.”

Eris rolled his eyes and climbed out of the bed. “You should have said something. We would have been married weeks ago.”

Y/N stood up and placed her hands on Eris’s firm chest. “In all seriousness, Eris. Thank you. Having a beautiful wedding was all I ever wanted when I was a child and now you are making my dream come true.”

Eris tenderly cupped her cheeks. “Sweetheart, if it were possible, I would make all of your dreams come true.”

Y/N leaned into his touch. “You already have, my darling.”

A smile bloomed on Eris’s face and he leaned down to press his lips against Y/N’s. He could feel the bond between them fill with the love the two of them shared and it only made Eris feel lighter on his feet. Just that feeling alone could put him in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s go and have that bath now,” Y/N said. “I don’t know about you, but my legs ache quite a lot.”

Eris laughed and linked their fingers together, pulling her along to their bathroom. 

***

Y/N lay in between Eris’s legs and her back rested against his chest as the two simply relaxed in the hot water. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was fighting the urge to go to sleep. The feeling of Eris’s fingers gently massaging the shampoo into her hair was the best feeling she was sure she would ever feel.

“I managed to control my fire,” Eris whispered into her ear. 

“I noticed,” Y/N answered, shuffling a little causing the water to splash. 

“That means you are beginning to control your own powers,” Eris stated. “I’m proud of you.”

Over the past few weeks, Y/N had managed to put a name to her powers, or even a description of what they can do. They amplify others. Originally, Y/N only thought that Eris magic only reacted to her because of the bond, but once they tested it out on Eris’s mother, fire roared to life with just a simple touch of her hand against his mother. 

Eris was sure that there was more to her power but Y/N didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. Of course she was happy to have powers, when her family never thought she did, Y/N had proved them all wrong. But her focus was on Eris and the wedding that was coming closer and closer, only a few days away. 

“When the wedding is over and our honeymoon, can we return to practicing with my powers,” Y/N asked. “You mentioned that there might be more to them.”

“We can do whatever you wish,” Eris said. “And it will get me out of those boring meetings I am forced to attend.”

Despite Y/N being High Lady of Autumn, there were still some officials that didn’t respect her title and treated her like filth on the bottom of their shoe. Eris had slolwy been flitering them out as he still needed to make sure he wouldn’t accidently cause an internal war within the Autumn Court. But Eris had asked that Y/N not attend the meetings until he had gotten rid of the officials that always opposed her and were disrespectful of her. 

Y/N reluctantly agreed but would always send Eris a whole page of notes of things she wanted to be brought up in the meeting. Eris always complied with that request. 

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, tilting her head to look at her mate. “I’m glad that I’m nothing more than an excuse to you.”

Eris chuckled and brushed his lips across her shoulder. “You are so much more than a reason, love. You are the entire reason this court is running as smoothly as it is. All of those ideas you write out for me to bring up at meetings make a large difference in the court.”

“You are also to thank for that,” Y/N responded.

“Oh please,” Eris said, “it’s definitely more you than me. You’ve been High Lady for a little two months and you have already changed this court for the better. There are children, females and males who look up to you.”

“They look up to you too,” Y/N argued. 

Eris shook his head. “They still see me as the spiteful, cruel, insufferable male I was when my father was alive. That’s probably what they will always see me as.”

Y/N frowned, turning around in the bathtub, causing the water to splash around them. “But you are the furthest thing from that.”

Eris avoided eye contact. “I’m being completely honest when I say this, Y/N, but it is not far from the truth. I was cruel and horrible for centuries. People never looked me in the eye in fear for what I would do.”

Y/N cupped his cheeks, his stubble rough against her palms. “Eris, listen to me when I say that you are the most incredible male I have ever met. You are not cruel. You are not spiteful. You are not insufferable. You are the furthest thing from those things. Sure, you put up that facade but you did that to protect your family, and that speaks volumes. You endured so much torture at the hands of your father just to keep the ones you love safe. My love, your heart is so large and it is honestly a shame not everyone gets to experience it.”

Eris closed his eyes and leaned into Y/N’s touch. “I only wish for you to see the amount of love in my heart. It is all reserved for you, every single drop of it.”

Y/N surged forward and pressed her lips against Eris’s. There was a sense of reassurance within the kiss and it was these types of kisses that made Y/N fall in love with Eris all over again. However, Y/N pulled away, a smile toying her lips. 

“You are perfect, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N muttered, lips ghosting over his. 

“As are you, my love,” Eris whispered before firmly pressing his lips against hers. 

The two stayed in the bath until the water was cold.

***

A small gasp left Y/N’s mouth as he stared at her dress in the mirror. It was everything she had ever imagined it would be. The golden fabric seemed to glow as she moved. The dress flattered her immensely, extenuating every part of her body which she loved. She could only imagine Eris’s reaction to it. It made her want to move the wedding a day forward. 

“Do you like it, High Lady?” the seamstress asked.

“Please, call me Y/N. There is no need for formalities,” Y/N said, offering the seamstress a smile. “Your work is incredible…”

“Aliana, High- Y/N,” Aliana replied. 

“Aliana, your work is truly remarkable,” Y/N said, admiring the gown in the mirror.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said.

“Where did you learn to make dresses like this?” Y/N asked. 

“My mother,” Aliana replied. “Though she was miles better than me. Her work shadows mine.”

“If they were anything better than this they must be something of legend,” Y/N exclaimed. “I would love to see them.”

Aliana’s gaze saddened. “They were all destroyed. By the previous High Lord. He- he was angry that my mother could not create a suit in time for him. He broke her hand and banished her from this court fifty years ago.”

Y/N frowned and gently took Aliana’s hand in hers. Aliana flinched but quickly relaxed. “I am so sorry, Aliana. Do you know where your mother is now?”

“She’s in the Winter Court. The High Lord has been kind to her there,” Aliana answered. 

“Have you seen her since she was banished?” Y/N asked. 

Aliana shook her head. “I haven’t. I can’t afford to leave the court and the previous High Lord always kept me busy. I have had some free time since his passing though.”

Y/N lost herself in thought for a moment. “Would you mind helping me out of this dress, Aliana?”

Aliana’s eyes widened. “Don’t you like it?”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I don’t like it, I absolutely adore it. I just need to deal with some matters with the High Lord.”

Aliana nodded. “Of course.”

“And Aliana?” Y/N said as she began to help Y/N out of the dress.

“Yes?”

“Come to the wedding tomorrow,” Y/N said. “I don’t have a formal invitation to give you, but just mention at the door that I allowed you to be there. I will set a seat for you.”

“I couldn’t possibly attend!” Aliana said, her curls bounced wildly as she shook her head.

“You could, you are the one who made this dress after all,” Y/N said. “It would be a crime if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t know,” Aliana said, fiddling with her fingers. “It wouldn’t be right. I am simply a seamstress, I don’t belong in court. Especially a wedding as high class as yours.”

“Aliana, listen to me, I do not care about class or what you do for a living. This night is not only a celebration for Eris and I, it can be a celebration for everyone. It gives everyone a chance to see how the changes taking place in court are for the better,” Y/N explained. “I want you to be there. Not even as a seamstress who made my amazing dress, I wish you to be there as my friend.”

Aliana stilled for a moment before smiling shyly. “It would be an honour.”

Y/N smiled and squeezed her hand gently. “It will be an honour to have you there.”

Aliana helped Y/N out of her dress without a fuss, Y/N didn’t mention the fact that she had seen Aliana wipe away the few stray tears that fell down her cheeks. Once the dress was off and back upon the mannequin, Y/N bid Aliana goodbye, not before making her promise that she would attend the wedding. 

***

The moment she was home, Y/N found herself walking to Eris’s office. He would only be there or in their bedroom, he was not preparing any last minute wedding preparations until Y/N was by his side. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, a hint of urgency to her voice. 

“Yes, my love?” Eris said, looking up from the papers on his desk. 

“I need you to contact Kallias immediately,” Y/N stated. 

Eris’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay with me, but my seamstress, Aliana, told me that her mother was banished from the court fifty years ago,” Y/N explained. “She hasn’t had the chance to see her mother and I wish to bring them together again.”

“Why was she banished?” Eris questioned.

“She could not create a suit in time for your father,” Y/N said.

At the mention of his father, Eris gripped the pen in his hand a little tighter. Y/N hurried over to him and draped herself across the back of his chair, hugging him close. Eris immediately dropped the pen and caressed Y/N’s skin, leaning back into her touch. 

“She made her way to the Winter Court and I wish to lift her ban and invite her to the wedding,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss against Eris’s cheek. 

“I will write to Kallias at once,” Eris said. 

“Thank you, my love,” Y/N said. “I would do it but I am not sure if other High Lord’s will take me seriously yet.”

“Of course they do,” Eris said. “They probably take you more seriously than me.”

Y/N chuckled slightly before pulling away from Eris. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Eris replied, pushing his chair back.

Y/N felt the gentle caress of his hand against hers before she felt Eris tugging her until she was situated in his lap. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck. 

“I get to call you my wife,” Eris whispered softly. “My mate and my wife, the love of my life, the most incredible female in the world, how am I ever going to introduce you to people?”

Y/N smiled. “You could always list all of them. And possibly add a few more.”

“Your head is going to be too big to walk through that door,” Eris teased. He looked at Y/N before his face suddenly became serious. “But thank you, Y/N. For giving me the love I never thought I deserved.”

Y/N gently pressed her lips against his and felt the way Eris melted into her body. “Thank you, Eris. For not only helping me get out of the Night Court, but for making me realise that I deserved more.”

Eris’s only response was to surge forward and press his lips against hers, harder than before. All of the love and emotion, Y/N felt it all and it was the most amazing feeling. 

As Eris’s lips left hers and began to pepper them down her neck, Y/N pulled away and Eris groaned. With a chuckle, Y/N climbed off his lap. “We can finish that later. Now I need you to write to Kallias and make sure Aliana’s mother gets her by tomorrow. I have some other things I need to attend to.”

“And what would those be?” Eris asked.

“I have some more invitations to give out.”