#I got the yellow because fuck yes fun colors

[jewishbarbies]

I thought I was gonna hate it but having a bigger phone screen is so much better for me. I can see things better and my big thumbs aren’t hitting as many wrong letters. it’s not that much bigger than my old phone but it’s definitely different.

[sweetandsavageautistic]

(CW: Cringe, Autism Parents stuff, drunk mention, infantilization)

So I don't have a degree in Graphic Design, but I do have a sense of general aesthetic. I figured that it's April. Let's rate, and potentially verbally tear apart and drag through the mud, some autism shirts and graphic designs, and I'll probably do a part 2, these scores are only semi-arbitrary: First up is this:

Already off the top, I am confusion because it seems to read "I wear puzzle cousin autism awareness". Sounds like whoever made this was drunk.

Puzzle pieces, ew.

The red, yellow, green, and blue look like the shades you'd see in elementary school, so that seems pretty infantilizing.

Autism Awareness, I am very much aware of my existence.

Final Score: 0 out of 10. Designer, go home; you're drunk.

Next we have this:

This one already has a slight advantage over the first because it's at least coherent in terms of the message.

Elementary school colors, but make it extra tacky.

Puzzle pieces; don't try to bullshit me by putting the autism awareness banner over it, I can see the other indents that make them puzzle pieces.

Once again, I am well aware of my own existence.

At least it's a smaller design.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10, and that's being generous.

Next one's not a shirt, but it still counts:

No blue so thank God for that.

This is up to personal preference, but to me, the person-first language is giving "I need to be reminded that someone is a person."

Puzzle pieces. Ew. Don't BS me, I can see them.

Walk down Autism Lane. (it's right below the word LOVE) Sorry, but we don't allow ableists on Autism Lane; you need to be a premium member and to be a premium member, you need to not be a dick.

The pumpkin disturbs me for some reason, and not in the Halloween way; I mean, it just straight-up disturbs me.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10. Bury it in a shallow grave.

Just found this one:

It's easy on the eyes at least.

No tacky elementary school colors.

No puzzle pieces.

The bunny's cute, but this also seems very infantilizing.

Person first language is a no for me.

Why are all of the is lowercase, but the others are uppercase?

Final Score: 5 out of 10. Not great, but not terrible.

Here we have simple:

Elementary school colors, but credit where credit's due; it's not terrible on the eyes.

Why is blessed on there three times?

One big-ass puzzle piece.

"Autism blesses" Yes, because being bullied by my peers, being indirectly told who I am is wrong, having the worst time making friends, always feeling like I'm never truly part of a friend group, being confused when some adults got mad at me, not having anyone to play with at 4 years old is an absolute fucking blessing. /s And that's the tip of the iceberg.

"Fun", "Sweet", "Cute".....it's the infantilization for me.

Final Score: 3 out of 10. No further elaboration.

Then there's this monstrosity:

I call this color Patronizing Paraprofessional Blue, aka the tackiest shade of blue ever.

It looks like something one of those older white suburban millennial moms would wear. Like something a Karen would wear to one of those autism walks or one of those social skills teachers who talk in that slowed-down patronizing kindergarten teacher tone with that fake-ass smile, no matter how old you are. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah, they'd wear this.

Puzzle piece. Light It Up Blue. Ew.

We all know what organization this supports.

Final Score: -10 out of 10. Burn it.

Let's get in a good one to counter that abomination of a shirt and end part one on a higher note:

Nice simple design with a black background.

No tacky elementary school colors.

Identity-first language.

Really counters the....what the fuck would it be called? The UwU autism parent thing? ("I am his voice, he is my heart," "See the able, not the label," etc,.) It counters that.

The light sparkle around "a bitch" is chef's kiss.

Final Score: 11 out of 10. Perfection.

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Suck | NSFW

Eyoooooo a lil drabble for Xavie baby. I'll probably be posting mainly drabbles for a while. Taking a break from long form content just for a bit so I can have some extra fun. Also, ahem, this is an unedited drabble, so there might be typos.

Pairings Xavier x Reader Warnings Strap On Sucking, Begging, Men Crying. Bottom! Xavier, Safe Words Mentioned Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier looked up at you, his hands tied behind his back as your strap tapped his lips. He was naked in front of you, while you had managed to remain almost fully clothed. You had put him in bunny ears as well, the tail being a plug snugly in his ass. His weeping cock tied up against his stomach so you could watch as it leaked from his current stance.

He had already forgotten what he had said to earn him in this place. He knew on your date he had been a little…sassier than normal. He didn't think he deserved this though.

"Come on, bunny, open," You cooed, taking his chin between your fingers. Xavier groaned but kept his lips shut, giving you a small, almost defiant pout. You clicked your tongue as you took your foot, pressing it against his erection. He hissed, letting out a pained moan when you placed the tip of it into his mouth.

The silicone toy wasn't the worst mouth feel, but he was…different. You had never made him suck it before. You took the back of his head as you got a little closer, forcing the strap down his throat. He let out a groan as he tried to accommodate the girth of it. You hadn't even bothered getting one of the small toys tonight, instead opting for a nice medium sized strap. It was in a pale yellow tone as well, with shimmers in there. You had bought it just for him and he normally loved the feel, but like this?

"Come on, you loved opening your mouth and running it earlier, why not now?" You asked, making him glide further down on it. Xavier finally gave in, knowing he wouldn't be winning. So he decided to just do as you asked and suck the fake cock in his mouth. He was rewarded by you letting up on his dick, letting it rest against his stomach.

Once you noticed he was doing what he was told, you let up and just gently held the back of his head. You ran your hair through the silky locks and then played with the little evol ears, watching as they twitched in response to your prodding. You chuckled, making Xavier look up at you. Those big blue eyes looked pleading, as though begging for you to let him stop.

His throat wasn't used to taking anything like this into it and he found himself gagging a little bit. He popped off, the shimmer of saliva on the toy and on his lips. You gave him a look, "Bunny?" you said, tone stern now.

"I can't," He whined, wanting nothing more than to reach his hands up and hold your thighs as he begged to just have you fuck him already. His cockhead was already turning red and it was almost painful with how much he needed something.

"Yes you can, sweetheart," you cupped his cheek, "Besides, this is your punishment, remember? Are you trying to be cute to weasel your way out of it?" you tilted your head and he let out another whine. He went to say something but you used that moment to place the strap back between his lips. He was groaning, feeling how you were now rolling your hips into his mouth.

His body was almost trembling as you continued on, and it was only after a tear actually fell did you decide he had enough. You took the toy out of his mouth and he was panting, "Color?" you said, coming out of the stern tone. It had his eyes shooting up at you, widening for a moment as if he had forgotten what it meant until a smile broke out.

"Green…very green," He said finally, clearing his now slightly sore throat.

"Alright, good…because I have way more plans for you tonight, bunny," You leaned down to capture his lips with your own. He groaned into the kiss, and then whimpered when your hand touched his cock. He didn't even realize how close he was until you pressed down on the tip.

You watched your cute bunny cum, painting his stomach in his release as he let out small moans and pants. You didn't even bother moving your hand, just letting him rut up into it for a moment. After he was done, he could see it in your eyes. Disappointment.

"Bunny…did I say you could cum?"

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

i need to know everything about your infected like. now

Okay Dokay! (I’m gonna say everything that comes to mind I might miss stuff or repeat previously said things but I love never re-reading what I wrote)

God I got a lot to say sorry, I put this at the bottom too but if anyone ever has specific questions I will be (very) happy to answer them!!!

Infected is, at face value, pretty good at kinda acting like Kasper. Which is why nobody else really seems too bothered by his switch up besides Lampert. Lampert knew him best and for REAL so, well yea you know. He would know when his best friend is acting wrongggg

I think that the virus was inside the roomba that infected has in their apartment. The irony is too perfect, because I don’t imagine Kasper being gods cleanest fella so the idea of the thing that basically wiped out his consciousness coming from something he got to try and start being cleaner. I think he would’ve gotten the roomba because Lampert was basically begging him to do something to try and fix his fuck ass apartment

The virus itself feeds off of consciousness, it overwhelms and takes over the pervious one then kinda produces a shitty copy of it so it can continue feed off any form of consciousness that could’ve been

Infected MAY have the iq of wall paper. Stupid and dumb.

Infected kinda just has like 0 form of self preservation because the virus itself doesn’t really… understand it I guess? It’s more of like a “FEELING PAIN IS A WASTE OF TIME!” Although it wouldn’t just be pain-centric. He just kinda does fuck-all because it’s fun or everyone else does it or whatever

The error pattern on his arm (and other parts of his body tbh) can spread to other things via touch, but it doesn’t really just stay there

The virus is kinda weird because it’s like. Very much digital but it also is clearly affecting him physically? So it kinda just. Is both things at once I dunno magic elevator magic virus yellow person with dot eyes and no nose what can I say.

Infected is a flat and static character, he is unchanging as is, he is only the face value personality of Kasper, it’s like trying to hold a conversation with a half baked answer machine. After a while he kinda just starts repeating things.

Infected is friends with Split and Poob, as mentioned on the wiki. It’s not even remotely comparable to what Kasper and Lampert had though (😢). They are more of like yea let’s invite Infected over to a party since he kinda seems to just stand in the corner and be a freak. They enjoy Infected’s presence, but again it’s like speaking to an answer machine after awhile

Kasper would frequently change up his look, keeping a few things like his hat always but he was like constantly trying out different colors and whatever clothing stuff, but when he became Infected he kind of jsut got stuck on the tough guys wear pink shirt era (going full npc, wearing literally nothing else because ah yes this is Kasper and I am “Kasper”)

Almost nothing truly gets to infected, yea he’s upset about pop tart but it’s all very shallow and more played off as a joke. Bros life is all sunshine and rainbows wait till he hears about taxes 😭

^ however, it’s not impossible for things to really break through for them. Albeit really just not that likely, they could be made SUPER MEGA UPSET! It’s times like that when he actually seems to have even just undertones of Kasper existing (which is why, despite Lampert HATING infected, I think there would be a time he shoves those feelings aside and tries to comfort infected because that’s still his best friends face)

Infected cannot stand be called Kasper. He ignores it for a bit but after a while he lashes out pretty badly. To be fair though, having 0 memories of someone but everyone else claiming you are them is kinda weird

Infected (specifically) would sound like cooper2723, shitty mic and all

Infected skates like skate 3. He does that speed glitch every time and nobody gets it. He also sometimes rolls full force into a curb and just flies off the skate board (he forgort)

Eczema rep as mentioned before, the stupid error texture is super extremely itchy, but that’s also why it’s spread so much because he fucking scratches the hell outta it. It also just hurts in general (LIKE IF U HAD SAND PAPER. ON UR SKIN. ALWAYS.) but again 0 sense of self preservation bruh don’t give a fuck

He wears the arm warmer to try and hide the error texture. He consciously does not really have a reason but it is in order for the virus to try and be more discreet. Not many people have really taken a notice or care at least so it’s kinda working..? (Not rlly it’s pretty obvious)

Infected HATES unpleasant a blood curdling amount. It doesn’t matter if unpleasant does literally nothing they will blame EVERYTHING on unpleasant. Uh oh bad weather? It’s that fucking gradient’s fault

Infected sometimes just starts tweaking. Like straight Blair witching or honestly even like the boss in s2 of smiling friends. He goes right back to normal but he just does that sometimes (it’s because there’s another backseat driver getting pissed off and existing again before going bed bye go the next however long)

Kasper had pretty bad anger issues but he was able to not start genuinely losing it. Infected however. Infected is gods happiest/angriest soldier

He could be a real smiler, a real big yaaaayyyyyy typa fella one second but one thing sets him off and he is a nightmare to be around. We talking cod lobby throwing shit hair pulling slur yelling type stuff

Infected lives on energy drinks.

They also don’t really sleep, it’s seen as a waste of time when he could be saying terrible things online or skateboarding off a building. Only real time he does anything that a normal human NEEDS to do is when he’s like sims 4 forced to (I.e straight up passing tf out on the floor)

I made this up because I wanted BOTH but his stupid ass SNOT, when it’s green that’s just icky snot when it’s pink that’s not snot or blood but a malicious 3rd option (the error infection thing, although it is kind of just like blood for him at least)

Infected doesn’t really realize that people change appearance over time and that’s like normal so he may do absolutely fuckall half the time but he does maintain appearance (hair cut/dye clothes) and stuff very well because they think they have to look exactly like how Kasper did at the point of infection

Errr he’s aroace :) and trans :) yah :) because kasper is :) 🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙🧡💛🤍🩵💙 yaaaayyyyyyyyyyy

Infected’s eyes actually are white, that’s not just stylistic choice. Or at least they kinda catch the light the way a cat’s does. He is very very eerie in the dark because of this. The error pattern is unaffected by lighting (because. It’s an error texture.) so that combined with white ass eyes and some guy who stands and moves like something else puppeteering a human is… eerie.

He’s Wasian! Korean-American specifically. He does have a Korean name but really just doesn’t go by it ever

This isn’t Infected-centric but relating to Kasper, he grew up mainly with his mom cuz his dad peaced tf out (lol). He did like his dad though, which is why he wore the hat all the time, at this point though he doesn’t really care about his dad and just wears it because it’s his fucking hat and he does not take that shit off

Infected constantly acts out of it, extreme fever style. Weird forgetful says nonsense half the time and just laughs at everything when he’s not busy smiling creepily

Infected is indifferent on everyone, he doesn’t particularly hold grudges (he just forgets about any arguments in general or ignores them) he only really hates unpleasant

He isn’t really enemy to anyone due to the infection trying to get a good way to spread (if ur around a bunch of people all the time, I mean likeeee)

There’s other things but this is very long and I dunno, if anyone has specific questions I’d be happy to answer!!!

[ornii]

UNO

Thornhill Teaches the students how to play Uno.

Inspired by a Mortal Kombat 1 Skit I saw

Thornhill: Alright, now you see how I’m placing down a green Seven? That’s because there’s a green Two down.

Everyone: Oooh.

Enid: Well that sucks I don’t have any green cards

Thornhill: Do you have any sevens?

Enid: No, go fish.

Thornhill: that’s not the game we’re— then you have to take a card from the pile.

(Y/n): I have this one green card with a prohibition sign on it. What does that do?

Thornhill: Thats a skip card, if you play it, Xavier’s turn in slipped.

Xavier: … don’t you do it.. (Y/n)…

(Y/n): .. *Skips Xavier’s turn*

Xavier: Son of a—

Wednesday: what does this card with the arrow do?

Thornhill: it’s a reverse card, it changes the turn order, so Xavier will continue his turn.

Xavier: Ooo! Place it down, place it down.

Wednesday: I must first take a moment to consider

Xavier: Don’t think just do!

Wednesday: …Fine. *Places reverse*

Xavier: Ha! Your ass is mine! Draw two (Y/n)!

(Y/n): That’s completely unfair!

Xavier: Suck it Daredevil!

(Y/n): You know what—

Enid: I got you (Y/n), I have one.

(Y/n): Thank you Enid. This should shut you up. *Skips his turn again*

Xavier: Oh you little— Wednesday play another reverse.

Wednesday: I don’t have another reverse, I do have a green five.

Thornhill: this is a rainbow card, it lets us change the color, I’m gonna change it to yellow.

Enid: Works for me! *Plays a Yellow 5*

(Y/n): …. *Plays a yellow skip*

Xavier: Are you kidding me?!

(Y/n): I had the card—

Xavier: That’s three times! You skipped me three times, how is this possible?!

(Y/n): don’t blame me, blame who shuffles the deck.

Enid: Hey! I shuffled it just fine!

(Y/n): Tell it to the guy who’s whining!

Xavier: You’d be whining too if you got slipped three fucking times!

(Y/n): No I wouldn’t because it’s just a game!

Xavier: you’re only saying that because you’re winning!

(Y/n): No it’s not! It’s a game!

Wednesday: .. I have a yellow draw two.

Thornhill: Yellow two.

Enid: Yellow Seven.

(Y/n): ….. Yellow Skip.

Xavier: You know what, fuck this.

(Y/n): Xavier, come on!

Xavier: no I’m sick of this shit! How did you get four skips?!

(Y/n): That’s not my fault and I already told you that—

Xavier: Oh stop it, Are you cheating or something?!

Wednesday smirks as (Y/n) and Xavier argue.

(Y/n): Why don’t you ask Enid why she sucks as shuffling cards?!

Enid: Hey! I don’t suck you just got lucky!

(Y/n): YES YOU DO! I got 4 skips! OF THE SAME COLOR!

Enid: and for the record you were cheating!

Xavier: SEE?

Enid: I saw you looking at my cards!

(Y/n): Looking at your cards Enid I can’t fucking see!

Thornhill: ENOUGH.

(Y/n): … Xavier I uh, I apologize. I was blinded by anger.

Enid: I thought you were blinded by Wednesday’s beauty.

Thornhill: Enid, really?

Xavier: No, it is just a game, I’m sorry. I overreacted. Maybe we should stop…

Wednesday: I say we continue, this is the most fun I’ve had in my entire life.

(Y/n): Wednesday most of this has been us arguing.

Wednesday: Exactly.

[duckofmassmurder]

one piece men and makeup

warnings: makeup, idk how that’d be a warning though but, cursing

Pairings: Luffy, zoro, sanji, shanks, ace, x reader

modern au

LUFFY

-bro you didn’t even have to ask, he just came to you and said ‘Put some of that stuff you put on your face in mine’ -he ended up with a full face of foundation, concealer, highlighter, blush, sharp winged liner, bright red lips, and red sparkly eyeshadow - this becomes a normal thing, seeing luffy looking like a fucking drag version of himself and it’s amazing

ZORO

-you came to him and he said nu-uh -do the only reasonable thing to do was put a bunch out Make-up on him while he was napping -you came to him and hee said nu-uh -do the only reasonable thing to do was put a bunch out Make-up on him while he was napping -when he woke up he was just horrified -‘babe what the fuck did you do to my face’ - 'I made it better' - My mans got upset about it - but didn't take it off - the funny thing is he didn't hate it -The Look: Green, SHINY eyeshadow, a black wing, dark red blush, highlighter, base makeup, dark green lipstick, and some green gems on his face near the eyeliner

SANJI

-Lets be honest, he would love literally anything you do - You came to him and he said yes without even listening - all he knew is you had to ask him something and he was gonna do it - it wasn't until he said yes that he realized that he was going to be doing - he still did it though -he kept moving his head to look at you though while you were doing it because he wanted to see your BEAUTIFUL face, which resulted in you having to forcefully hold his head still -He honestly loved it in the end when you were finished with it -The Look: Yellow eyeshadow, black eyeliner with a pink heart around it, blush, base makeup, highlighter, some shimmery white eyeshadow on the under eye, and pink lipstick

SHANKS

-He agreed because he's just good like that -He honestly did it because it sounded fun and he wanted to mess around with the crew -Made you do certain colors for stuff, making the makeup look kind of weird -Bro loved how it looked in the end though -The Look: Shiny red eyeshadow, dark red winged liner, RED blush, red lipstick, highlighter, base makeup, and some red gems on the eyeliner

ACE

-You came to him and he just said HELL YEA immediately and ran to where you do your makeup full speed -You were just left standing there like 'the fuck just happened' -You went into the room to see him sitting there, in your makeup chair (or on the floor, that's where i do my makeup-), all the makeup out already, just fucking looking at you like 'put that shit on meh face', kind of the same look you got from luffy -once you finished doing the makeup, he looked in the mirror, and started running around the ship showing all of the crew his glorious makeover -The Look: Fire themed eyeshadow, black liner, blush that accentuated his freckles, base makeup, highlighter, and a red, an orange, and a yellow gem under the eyeliner on each eye

I hope you enjoyed reading this, i love love you, and remember, you don't need makeup, you can wear it if you like, and it makes you feel good, but your PERFECT as you are, okay? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[sweetracha]

Choose a Flavor

There are two versions of this story based on what experience you want to have. Will you be a good girl or a brat?

Flavor Selected: Brat

Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!)

Allergy Warning: Hard Dom Chan, Titles (Master and Daddy), Pet Names (Bunny, Baby, Doll, Etc), Dumb is used, Spanking, Denial, Overstim, Begging, Pet Play? (Name and Outfit more than Roleplay), Illusions to aftercare

Here you are now standing in his playroom. It was perfect, everything you could have dreamed of and more. You had seen it once before when you were going over consent contracts. Chris wanted to make sure you felt comfortable in this space. He made love to you in the black silk bed that sat on the middle wall. He was so sweet, soft, and sensual in those moments. You wondered how he could ever be a dom.

Trying to drown out your busy mind you took in the sights. Christopher, or Bang Chan as you learned was his dom persona, had an eye for detail. The room was decorated with leather and silk, reminding you of the silk piece he had you wear tonight. Red lights colored the corners tastefully. Paddles and other impact gear were organized along the walls. Ropes were twisted neatly on the bedframe. A wand and some other toys were charging on the black wood nightstand. Finally, you took in the scent of the room. Sharp whiskey and leather filled your senses, a perfect match to Chan’s cologne. Being so lost in the art of it all, you didn’t hear the door close or footsteps behind you.

“Hello little bunny” Chris welcomed as he slide up behind you, gently wrapping a hand around your throat. “Are you ready to play little one?” you nodded in response.

“Words honey, don’t be a brat now” his grip tightened. 

“Yes Master” you meekly replied

“Good girl, here is how tonight is going to go. Every question I ask will be responded to verbally, Every order I give will be followed, and every word I say will be heard. Do this little bunny and Daddy will reward you greatly. If you fail to listen to me, however, you will be punished” His hand around your neck pulled you in close as he leaned into your ear and whispered “Hard”.

Tonight you were left with two choices. Be the good girl your dom wants you to be or have your fun and be a brat. Rewards or punishments were the ultimate questions. 

You picked to be a brat tonight

Chan spun you around so you were facing him, it didn’t matter if he had a shorter stature. Right now he towered over you. Leather-gloved hands came up to fix your pretty white bunny ears on top of your head. Christopher cooed at how innocent you looked in the dark space. He was going to have fun with you. Those same rough leather hands tilted your chin up to stare into his intense eyes.

“What are your safe words bunny?” You knew this was an important question to establish an answer but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop…just like a traffic light” You rolled your eyes. “I thought even a soft dom like you would have known that.

You could see a fire in his eyes, he knew your games. His gentle hand became hash on your cheeks as he held your face. He lowered down to your level and got real close.

“Watch your tone brat, I won't repeat myself. Now what is my name tonight”

“Christopher but I guess because we are playing make-believe you are ‘Bang Chan’. How did you come up with such a clique porn name anyways” you mocked. The hand not occupying your face slithered to your roots. With a handful of hair, he yanked you back. Chris didn’t miss the way your eyes rolled as you let out a grunting moan.

“Fucking brat. Should have known you'd never be a good girl. But you know what princess? I know exactly how to tame you. At the end of the day, I know you just want to be my dumb little pet bunny.” He let go of your hair and made his way to the bed. The way he sat down on the edge made you realize just how massive his thighs were, if it was any other day you'd beg him to let you ride but not tonight.

“Come lay over daddy’s lap baby” he patted his slack-covered thigh.

“Oh what are you going to do, is the big daddy going to span–AH” You were cut off by Chan yanking you over his lap. Toes barely touched the wooden floor.

“Yes princess, master is going to do just that. He is going to spank your bratty little ass until it is bright red. I won’t make you count tonight, Im not sure your dumb little bunny mind can count that high” You were royally fucked and couldn’t have been more excited.

His first swat was light, almost to test the waters. When you didn’t show any signs of discomfort he swung again, harder. He continued his assault on your bum until you were wiggling in his lap. Moans were mixed with whines and huffs of air. He could get used to this.

“Look at these poor panties and babydoll daddy bought you, baby, they are getting ruined. Better take them off. Stand up. Now”

“No”

“Bunny, I suggest you turn around and face the wall right now and strip. I was going to let you off with only a few more but I see I need to teach you some manners, don't make this worse than it already will be”

You decided to do what he said for once tonight. Something about the venom that dripped from his words scared you a little. That familiar sub-fuzz began to overtake you. As you began to strip the silk babydoll gown you heard Chris moving in the background. He grabbed a few things and took his spot back on the bed. Like a king claiming his throne. 

“Back over my thigh princess, Im not done with you” This time you draped yourself over him.

He warmed up your now naked bottom which was already glowing a nice shade of red. Out of nowhere, he swung again. You could tell he was using his full force now. 

“I can’t believe you decided to be so disobedient tonight. I had so much planned for you but no, you had to be a brat. Now Daddy has to teach you how to be a good girl for him” he paused the rain of smacks to feel between your legs. “Awwww baby girl, so desperate now arent we” you moaned when he began to circle your clit. “So wet baby, probably being such a little brat because you were so uncomfortable” his digits now began to pump inside of you slowly. It wasn't enough to make you cum but it did keep you on edge. You whined and rutted your hips back in desperation. “Awwww shhhhh poor baby, I'm not done with you yet” and like that, he pulled out and spanked you with the same hand that pleasured you. He continued until you finally admitted defeat.

“Ouch, Daddy Im sorry! Please I'll be a good girl just please let me cum! I need you. I need master to touch me” You slumped in submission. Chan plunged his fingers back into your cunt and set a brutal pace. Moans and yells escaped your lungs are you were thrust into pure unimaginable pleasure. Just as Christopher felt you clench…

“Ask for it” he slowed down.

“What! Please No”

“Ask for permission to come babydoll”

“Please Master can I cum. PLEASE” you begged like your life was on the line.

“Fucking Cum” and with that you did. You spasmed on his lap as he finished you off. While he was still punishing you he wasn’t going to be too cruel. He helped you down from your high and gently laid you on the bed.

“Bunny, you took Daddy’s punishment so well. You did such a good job, Master is very proud. But it isn't quite done. Im going to wreck your sensitive little body one last time and you are going to take it” again with the faux comfort he was so good at. Just as you were going to get ready for him, he flipped you around.

“Oh, I forgot to mention. No looking at or touching Daddy. You are going to remain arched on all fours as I ruin you. And because I know my dumb little bunny can't follow any rules, Master will tie your wrists to the bed to help you” and he did just that. Black and white ropes were wrapped around your wrists and secured you to the bend. His leather hand slid down your back with pressure forcing you to arch. Then he slammed into you. He was done with teasing, done with making you beg, done with waiting. He needed his own pleasure. Chan was going to be selfish with your body. You were his after all, right?

He set an unrelenting pace that was backed by hard thrusts. Imediabity he found your g-spot and when you screamed out in pleasure he abused it with his tip. Too lost in how amazing you feel, Chan didn’t say much. The room was filled with moans, pants, grunts, and the occasional swear word. It wasn’t until you spoke up did he come back to reality.

“Can I come, Master?” Finally, you were being his sweet obedient girl.

“Yes bunny, come for Daddy” He followed his approval with long drawn out powerful thrusts, the kind he knew you liked. As you clamped down on him hard and came with a scream he filled you up. A howl-like moan left him and he emptied inside of you. Your poor body leaked from him. With two fingers we scooped his cum up and pushed it back inside you, mesmerized by the sight.

“Shhhhhh baby it's okay, we wouldn’t want to waste a drop now would we” he cooed with genuine care this time.

“No Daddy we wouldn’t,” you said with a sex-drunk giggle which eased his worries about being too hard on you.

“It’s okay now little one, I'm just Christopher right now bun” 

“Channie?” you slightly sat up with a sweet questioning expression on your face. He was going to marry you someday.

“Yes princess, Channie is here. Let's get you into a bath baby girl.”

Change Flavor?

[quietblueriver]

Did I write an AU based on a McDonald's commercial? Somehow, yes. I...I don't even know, y'all. But here's a hopefully fun, fluffy thing.

*

Ava watches Beatrice walk into the McDonald’s, pristine gray and yellow polo tucked into ironed black pants, and thinks for about the thousandth time that nobody should be able to make a fast-food uniform look that fucking good.

“Yo, Silva,” a pen hits her helmet and falls to the concrete next to her. She doesn’t look but stretches her arm out behind her and flips the bird in the general direction of the voice. “Fuck off, JC.”

“Rude. Stop staring at your girlfriend and get back over here.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” The response is rote at this point, because he makes some comment every fucking time they hang out here (and, yeah, sure, that’s because every fucking time they hang out here Ava stares at Beatrice or talks about Beatrice or daydreams about Beatrice but whatever) but she still winces at herself because she sounds like she’s five and also because she would rather not have to say Beatrice isn’t her girlfriend.

Reaching down to retrieve the pen, which is one he’d stolen from her earlier anyway, the dickhead, she turns back to him and says, “Go home, JC. I’m done for the day.”

“Aw, Ava, c’mon. We just got here.” It’s whiny and Ava’s the smallest bit endeared, as always, because he’s charming and guileless and really actually wants to spend time with her, even after she dumped him pretty unceremoniously when her interest in him flamed out about three weeks into their sort-of relationship. He’s giving her puppy-dog eyes and she rolls her own because he’s absolutely ridiculous. “We’ve been here for two hours, JC. You have study group with Zori soon anyway.”

He looks like he’s going to protest, but Chanel steps in. “Let’s go, doofus.” She wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls and Ava smiles at her gratefully until she says, smirking, “Ava has to go make pathetic heart eyes at the pretty girl over an ice cream cone she doesn’t want.” “Hey, I always want ice cream.” It’s…not a great comeback, and she knows it, sighs when Chanel laughs loudly and turns to walk away with JC, a totally rude, “Yeah right,” serving as her goodbye. Ava’s undoing the strap of her helmet when Chanel nearly yells, still walking toward the bus stop, “Ask her out, you idiot!” Ava flinches and looks toward the entrance of the store, but nobody is there to hear the call-out.

Also, though, she’s totally going to do it. She’s going to ask Beatrice out. Today. Right now. Because she wants to and has wanted to for like six fucking weeks and because on Friday some girl, some stupidly hot girl, had been leaning over the counter and touching her and Beatrice had blushed and Ava had squeezed a ketchup packet so hard she’d ruined JC’s white tee and damaged her own dignity pretty badly in front of Mary and Lilith, who is terrifying and who had looked at her like a fucking Orca who had found a bunch of baby seals to snack on. Literally the only thing that had made the night okay was Camila, an absolute saint, texting Ava later to tell her Beatrice wasn’t going out with the girl even though she’d really tried but “Ava get it together already because she’s not going to wait forever and she shouldn’t! She’s great!” She is. Cam’s right. So. Yeah. It’s time.

Ava runs a hand through her hair and trades her helmet for her favorite cap, putting it on backward and clipping her helmet to her messenger. She takes stock. She’s wearing denim shorts and a black crop-top underneath one of her favorite button-downs, black and covered in colorful shapes. Her right knee is scabbed over from a fall last week and there’s a hole forming at the big toe of one of her black-and-white checked Vans. She wiggles her toe and sees the threads move, the tip of her lime green sock poking through. She looks like herself. She looks good.

She pushes her shoulders back and walks out of the park and into the parking lot, board in hand. It’s a Monday afternoon and school hasn’t let out yet, so when Ava walks in, dropping her board into the little stand by the door, hardly anyone is there. She sees a very stressed woman with three small children by the indoor playground and a dude messing with his phone and eating fries in the corner and that’s it. It’s great, because it means Ava won’t feel bad about trying to keep Beatrice talking to her for as long as possible (she really, really has it bad) but it’s shit because it means she has no buffer time.

And yep, she’s almost immediately greeted with an amused, “Hello, Ava.” Leaning against the drink station and looking like she’s about to have a really good time is Mary. Ava sighs and smiles, waves a little and fortifies herself for the shit she’s about to take. At least Lilith isn’t on today.

For reasons she isn’t totally clear on but thinks boil down to “queer fam helps queer fam get jobs,” this McDonald’s is staffed by like half of her History of Medieval Spain seminar. She’d felt like she was in a very realistic and mundane dream two weeks into the semester when she’d walked in from the new skate park to get an ice cream cone and been served by the hottie with color-coordinated notes who sat next to her on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:30 to 11am while the also hot but absolutely terrifying woman who sat across from her glaring at everyone filled fry containers and the smoke show who sat next to her manned the drive-in. (How her History of Medieval Spain seminar came to be fucking stacked with hot queer women is less of a mystery—Professor Suzanne “step on my throat” Superion draws a very particular kind of student and Ava couldn’t be happier to fall into that category.)

Mary makes a tv-gameshow-style motion at the soda machine behind her, as if offering a prize. “Thirsty?” She’s so fucking smug, and she’s also depressingly right, which makes it way worse. Ava looks at the children now snacking at the table with their keeper and resists the urge to flip Mary off, sticking her tongue out instead because she’s very mature.

Before Mary can respond, they’re interrupted. “Hello, Ava.” Ava smiles automatically, turns in the direction of the voice so fast she’s at risk of whiplash and blurts, loudly, “Hi Bea!” She bounds over to the counter and leans against it, palms pressed flat and body tilting forward. It’s a genuinely innocent act; she just wants to be closer to Beatrice, who’s standing behind the register. But she watches Bea’s eyes drift down and then guiltily snap back up and she knows that the position combined with her top also does great things for her tits. She preens a little, self-confidence growing, and says, “How’s my favorite ice-cream-magician-slash-Religious Studies-major today?”

It’s a lot, but whatever—she’s way past pretending she’s anything other than a lot and anyone who has an issue can go find less. And anyway, it gets exactly the reaction she wants: Beatrice’s cheeks tinge pink at her enthusiasm, a small, pleased smile appearing on her face like it does nearly every time Ava says something even remotely complimentary. It’s a little weird, because in class Beatrice is like, model student who knows it. She always pays attention and makes points so good that Superion writes them on the board and operates with a general level of confidence that does embarrassing things to Ava. Outside of class, though, Beatrice kind of folds into herself. It seems almost like she isn’t used to people seeing her, remembering her, being glad she’s there, and Ava thinks that’s fucking wild and absolutely wrong.

Beatrice deserves someone who will be loud about her. She thinks of the girl from Friday, with her beautiful cheekbones and her wandering hands, and of Beatrice’s blush, the one Ava did not appreciate seeing directed at someone else even if she was, in the better parts of herself, very glad to see Beatrice getting the attention she deserves. And, yes, totally, Beatrice deserves all of the attention but she wants to be the one who gets Beatrice’s attention. And she wants to be the one who gets to be loud about Beatrice in a respectfully possessive way. If Beatrice is down, of course. The girl in question is still smiling at her, and Ava’s body leans even further forward on instinct, drawn to the stupidly perfect human in front of her. Her palms catch her weight, her feet lifting slightly from the ground. Beatrice’s eyes don’t wander again, sadly, but her head tilts in this way that Ava thinks indicates affection, and she’ll take that, for sure.

Bea’s voice is teasing as she asks, “Do you know a lot of Religious Studies majors?”

Ava grins at her, grins bigger when Beatrice angles just slightly closer, which Ava might think was an unconscious move if Beatrice weren’t maybe the most intentional person on the planet (there are at least four colors in her highlighter system and Ava’s 95% sure she irons her t-shirts). “Nope. But I don’t need to to know that you’re my favorite and the best.”

Mary says, loudly, “I’m going on break.” She passes by them and adds, enjoying herself way too much, “Beatrice, I was just asking Ava here about a drink. I’m sure you can also see she’s incredibly thirsty. Must be the skateboarding.”

Ava glances at the kids, still working through a pile of french fries, and puts her feet back on the ground, angling her body against the register so that she can flip Mary off and keep it shielded from tiny human eyes and from Beatrice. She wants to tell her to lick rust. She says, instead, “Thanks so much for your concern.” Mary keeps her shit-eating grin and saunters outside.

When she turns back to the counter, Beatrice is looking over the register at Ava’s hand in amusement and okay so Ava apparently hadn’t hidden her finger as well as she’d thought but at least Bea seems to think it’s funny instead of off-putting. She had once admonished Ava, totally unironically, when Ava had let fly an admittedly impressive string of curses after realizing she left her coffee sitting on a table in the student union. The tone of that ”Language, Ava” had made Ava’s stomach drop in a very unexpected and pleasant way.

“The usual?” Her eyes are really fucking pretty.

“Yep. Yeah. Please.” As Beatrice turns to grab a cone Ava gets her shit together. Right. Yes. Go. “Actually, Bea.” She turns back holding a cone and smiles, eyebrow raised in question as she waits, and Ava wants to kiss her. “Would you want to go out with me sometime? In, like, a date way?”

Her smile is gone then and she’s blinking slowly and oh shit, did Ava mess up? Was Bea not interested? Was Bea not gay? There’s no way Beatrice hadn’t noticed her flirting because she had literally never been subtle and also Bea had just been staring at her boobs and talked to Ava and smiled at Ava and blushed at Ava more than anyone else? Or anyone else Ava had ever seen. And Cam said! And Mary wasn’t mean enough to let her make an ass of herself, right? Not like this. Lilith, maybe, but…

Ava has become distracted, staring at the kid’s meal toy display to Bea’s right as she spirals, and when she looks back, Beatrice’s mouth is twitching and her eyes are bright with amusement, and oh, shit. “Um,” she tries to run a hand through her hair and hits her hat. Smooth. “So, exactly how much of that did I say out loud?”

“I apologize for so obviously staring at your chest earlier.” Her tone is at least half genuinely apologetic but the rest of it is amused? Delighted? Something in that range and definitely at Ava’s expense and that’s fair given the gay panic monologue she’d apparently just spouted at her crush in her place of work.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles as she tilts her head back and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. After a breath she forces herself to look at Beatrice, who is fully smiling now. She throws the cone away and steps toward Ava again and then her hand is on Ava’s forearm, which she had crossed with the other over her chest in what was a totally ineffective attempt at self-preservation. Hard when the attack is coming from your own fucking mouth. Beatrice’s hand is warm and her fingers are calloused and Ava short circuits (whatever fucking circuits are left) at the contact, staring in disbelief until Beatrice says softly, still amused, “I would love to go out with you sometime.”

“Yeah?” It’s the most she can manage. The fingers over her arm squeeze just slightly and Ava knows if Bea pushed even a little bit she’d fall right fucking over. “Yes.” Warm brown eyes meet hers as she takes her hand back. Ava misses the contact immediately.

“Cool. Um, maybe Thursday? Dinner?” Bea doesn’t usually work Thursdays and Ava’s shift at the gym near campus ends at 3pm so she’ll have time to go home and shower and lose it a bit over what to wear but not so much time that she’ll be able to talk herself into a full panic.

“Thursday works perfectly.” Ava pulls her messenger around and rummages for her phone, pulling it out and handing it to Bea. Based on what she knows from class and a lot of longing stares, Beatrice keeps all her stuff as neat and tidy as she keeps her uniform. So, she’s pretty sure her own phone is something out of Bea’s nightmares. One corner of the screen is shattered and scratches dot the rest while the back, an ice blue color Ava really likes, is covered in spidery lines from way too many drops and impacts suffered in Ava’s pocket at the park. Still, she can’t be fucked to get a case because it’s pretty and sleek and smooth(ish, at this point). Beatrice’s lips purse slightly but she says nothing, taking it, entering her number, and calling herself before handing it back. She removes her own phone, in its pristine black case, and immediately creates a new contact.

A group of teenagers comes through the door, loudly, followed closely by Mary, and Ava watches as Beatrice sets her shoulders. It’s very cute. Ava is going to date her. Incredible. “I’ll text you.”

Her smile breaks and her face is suddenly concerned. Ava’s nervous until: “Your ice cream. I completely forgot.”

Ava grins and waves her phone, nearly drops it and is stupidly charmed by the little flinch from Beatrice at the fumble. “Got something way sweeter.”

Beatrice shakes her head and half hides a smile, cheeks pink. Ava’s feeling very proud when she hears a loud groan from Mary, who’s stepping behind the counter again. “Absolutely not, Silva. Get out of here with that.”

Ava smiles at Beatrice one last time before basically skipping out, grabbing her board. She almost eats it three separate times because she’s so distracted on the way home, but she’s not even a little mad about it.

It’s both awesome and kind of torture to see Bea the next morning in class. They sit next to each other, like always, and Ava manages to keep it mostly together, flirting only slightly more than usual and letting her knee press into Bea’s below the table for most of class, the barely-there red under her freckles the only sign she’s even aware of the contact. She works an extra shift on Wednesday because she wants that date money and JC could give a shit about giving it up, only works because his parents make him even though they give him a shit-ton of spending money anyway.

It’s a bummer not to see Bea but she’s also texting her kind of non-stop. She started Tuesday night when she got home:

What’s Dracula’s favorite ice cream?

She didn’t expect a fast response, imagined Bea was busy with the flood of students and families who came in after work and school, so she was a little surprised to see Bea’s name pop up twenty minutes later: Blood orange?

Have you had blood orange ice cream?

No, but I am sure it exists. Not the answer then?

A good guess but no. It’s…

Vein-illa

Three eye roll emojis. And then a truly terrible joke about snails. It had gone on from there, intermittent jokes and also little snippets of actual conversation. It’s still happening Wednesday night as Ava gets ready for bed. She settles and then nearly hurls herself out of bed in excitement when she reads Bea’s latest text: Goodnight, Ava. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. From most people, it wouldn't be much, might even be discouraging. Ava knows Beatrice well enough at this point to know that from her, it might as well be fifteen firework emojis and twenty-seven exclamation points. She doesn’t bother to play it cool, as fucking if she would do anything other than encourage way more of that, and sends back immediately: Night, Bea. Me too. Really really. Along with three mutlicolored hearts.

She knows something is wrong the next morning when she gets to class because Beatrice is waiting outside of the classroom staring at her shoes and gripping the straps of her backpack (both over her shoulders, tightened evenly) as if they’ve personally offended her. When Ava gets close, Bea looks up and smiles unevenly and says, “I’m so sorry, Ava. I can’t go tonight. Lilith got the flu and I have to cover her shift.”

It sucks, of course, but Bea’s looking at her like she’s done something unforgivable, like she’s waiting for Ava to tell her off. Not for the first time, Ava wonders where exactly Bea comes from and what kind of shitheads she’s used to. She walks closer, slowly, smiles as gently as she can and takes a risk, reaching forward to tuck an escaped strand of Bea’s hair behind her ear and letting her hand skim Bea’s jaw as she pulls back. Bea’s eyes are big and her face is more relaxed, even if she does look a little confused and her hands are still white-knuckling the straps of her bag.

She keeps it simple, pretty sure Beatrice needs it. “Wanna try for this weekend instead?”

A few people file past them into the room and Ava knows they need to go sit or incur the wrath of Superion, whose anger is hotter in theory than in practice. She takes another chance, reaches up to tug at Bea’s left hand and laces their fingers. When Beatrice allows it, flexes her fingers lightly between Ava’s, Ava pulls them into the classroom, smiling a little at Bea’s still-wide eyes. She appears to have come back to herself by the time they reach their seats, squeezing Ava’s hand in an intentional way before taking off her backpack and settling in. As Superion gathers her notes, Beatrice leans closer, pressing her knee into Ava’s as she says quietly, “How does Saturday night work for you?” Ava beams.

Saturday morning she ends up, surprise surprise, at the skate park with JC, riding a little aimlessly and doing some reading for her Russian Lit class while he dicks around in the bowl. When he dips after a few hours, elbowing her just a little too hard as he tells her to have fun with Beatrice that night, Ava smiles like an idiot while he laughs.

Her stomach rumbles around noon and as she eyes the empty drive-thru, she makes a plan. Yeah, okay, so she’s gonna see Beatrice tonight but she wants to see her now and she’s right there and also, Ava’s legit hungry and it’s not even busy. So. She’s gonna get a fucking cheeseburger.

When she pays, Camila grins and Ava shrugs one shoulder as she says, “Cute, Ava.” When she rolls up to the window, Beatrice blinks in surprise and then shakes her head a little and the edges of her mouth tick up. “We’re not supposed to let you order on foot you know.”

Ava takes the burger and pops her board conspicuously. “Four wheels, baby. Totally counts as a vehicle.”

“Pathetic, Silva!” Mary calls over Bea’s shoulder and Ava shrugs again, winking at Bea before she rides off.

It takes her no time to finish the burger, and there are still no cars in the line, so she finds herself ordering fries, smiling at Camila as she laughs and bracing her arms on the window as Beatrice gets her order, her cheeks a shade darker this time around. Ava tips her helmet at Bea and says, as she takes her snack, “I only have fries for you.”

“Get out of here immediately with that.” Mary’s closer this time, swats at Ava from around Bea’s back, but the look on Bea’s face is open and affectionate and she’s so fucking handsome and Ava wants more of it. A lot more of it.

It takes slightly longer to finish the fries but luck is on her side because it’s still slow when she does, so she rolls through yet again. When Beatrice hands her the coffee, both eyebrows raised but still blushing, Ava says, easy, “I got thirsty.”

“You’ve been thirsty, Silva. Go away.” There’s no bite to it, and Mary doesn’t swat at her this time, just turns and walks toward the fryers shaking her head. Turning her attention back to Bea, Ava fidgets a little as she asks, “See you soon?” Bea bites her bottom lip and nods and Ava thanks bisexual Jesus that she only nearly face plants on her way down the drive.

It gets busy, of course, so Ava parks it outside and finishes her coffee and reads. She’s getting ready to go change for her date date date when she hears, “Ma’am. Your ice cream.” Ava’s up in a second, delighted as Beatrice holds the cone out to her and ducks her head. Ava can’t help but stare as she takes it, feels some drip down onto her hand. Beatrice’s hair is down, over one shoulder, and the sun is setting and wow .

“Your cone is going to melt.” Beatrice is looking at her now, a little flustered. “I might, too, if you keep looking at me like that.” Ava takes her hand, carefully but with more confidence than she had earlier that week, and offers, “Walk you to the bus stop? I know it’s traditional to walk someone home after a date but like, I can do before, too, right?” Beatrice brings their bodies slightly closer together as they start toward the sidewalk. “I’d like that."

[skylarsblue]

✦Random Sinclair Headcanons✦

(I was bored and I have nowhere else to put them)

Lester's got a slight allergy to certain citrus fruits. It's not terrible, but it did get stuff like orange juice banned from the house when the brothers were younger. But that's Bo's favorite. So he always has a jug specifically for himself in the house since Lester's no longer living with them.

Vincent's hair is well kept in turns of how he washes it, but their lifestyle ruins it constantly. Some parts of Vincent's hair is a lot shorter than the rest cause he got too much wax caught in it, so they have to snip a strand. It's like terrible layers.

All the brothers have bad teeth, Bo's looks the best on the surface, but mans got at least 8 fillings in the back.

Bo is shit at telling people's accents, Vincent's decent at it. But Lester? Somehow he's the gibberish translator. Someone could come through with the most unintelligible accent and he'll somehow know what they're saying.

I've said Bo can play piano, and so can Vincent, but they're more adept with the violin. Lester can probably tear shit up on the harmonica

Vincent's art mediums are; wax sculpting(duh), painting, and charcoal.

Bo's art mediums are; photography, musical(though he dropped that one), and he used to be pretty good at pen doodles(but he dropped that too, fuckin' thanks Trudy)

Lester's art mediums are; scavage-crafting, wood/bone carving, and scrapbooking.

Bo had a phase where he was really good at producing poems/poetic song lyrics. But he stopped doing it because he got made fun of once. Basically anytime he does anything artistic, he drops it, because he gets made fun of or told Vincent is better.

Bo & Lester bond over old cars and Lester knows a good amount about cars because of it. By proxy, Bo knows a lot about Lousiana wildlife thanks to Lester.

Lester & Vincent bond over sculpting & carving. I think almost everyone agrees Vincent's dual dragon knives were carved from bone that Lester found.

Lester wasn't good in school but mans was fantastic in woodshop. He outdid everyone. Without even trying! Fuck a bird house, get a bird MANSION.

Vincent's an insomniac, Bo's got night terrors, and Lester is the type to wake up every hour. What's funny is that when they were younger, Bo was the insomniac, Lester had night terrors, and Vincent was the one who woke up every hour. They all switched problems somehow.

They all have two matching moles on their lower ribs and right beside their belly button.

Bo's first job was at a mechanic's shop, Vincent's was at a music shop, and Lester's was at a gas station. Bo was fuckin' trash at customer service, Vincent silently judged people's music choices, and no one talked to Lester(sadly).

Lester makes all his food too damn spicy. He adds spice to already hot things. Both his brothers think he's a demon as they watch him add chili flakes to things.

Bo hates reality TV, but in the way that he'll stick around to watch it and yell at the TV if he sees it on. It's actually pretty funny.

There is one mixtape in Lester's truck, it's the only one he listens too, and it's an old one he stole from Bo when they were teens. Bo still wonders where it went but Lester refuses to tell him.

Bo says he hates hugs but somehow gives the best ones. They're like, engulfing dad hugs with the perfect amount of pressure. Lester's hugs are a bit too tight but it's cute. Vincent's are soft and delicate, like a blanket.

If Bo's had a night terror and he can't calm down, he'll look for Jonesy. And she'll lay on top of him on the couch until he calms down. Vincent's found them a few times, but chooses not to comment on how Bo holds the dog he swore he didn't want like a teddy bear.

Vincent had a Greek Mythology phase, Bo had a WW2 History phase, and Lester had a Dinosaur phase.

Vincent's favorite colors are beige & lilac, Bo's are midnight blue & charcoal black, & Lester's are fern green & dandelion yellow.

Lester's house is cleaner than the twins, ironically. It's cluttered, yes, but he actually keeps a decent living space. There aren't even coffee rings on his tables, he made his own coasters. He's got a messy job so he likes his house to be clean.

Bo & Vincent don't know how to load a dishwasher. They wash their dishes by hand, but, they also don't cause they hate doing it When the sink is too full, they do rock, paper, scissors. Bo tends to lose.

[ouroborosorder]

OK but when you're free of all the other obligations and able to do it can we get the Ines skin writeup anyway because I liked the Eine Variation one and why do they keep giving Caprinae ops skin like this do they just hate goats at hypergryph or what

Okay so I got this ask a month and a half ago and am just now getting to responding to it. In that time, I got a job as a professional VFX artist so my opinion means double what it did before. So that's fun! Respect me and bow to me, peasants.

I wrote a massively long writeup here and then my page refreshed and I lost all of it twice. Let's speedrun this shit, alright? (She says, immediately writing a 5 page unhinged rant.)

This skin sucks because of the exact opposite reason Eine Variation does, it's just too fucking detailed for its own good.

...Also what the fuck is that in the background is that a goddamned alien spaceship has anyone else noticed this?? This is a bloodline of combat skin this is canon does ines just fight aliens at some point what the FUCK?

Anwyay VFX in the readmore.

Deploy animation. I hate you. I hate this. I hate it.

It's rare I get to see an entire skin's mistakes in microcosm like this! That's fun!

This is so detailed that it actually ceases to have any real shape or identity. This doesn't look like shadow, because skins can just. Change character lore to make something look cool yes I'm still mad. Is it stars? That would explain the weird yellow dots, and there are stars in the art. Fire? No, it's not actually fire, there'd be fire here. Burning fabric? It only looks like that if I squint and zoom in, but I can't... think of anything else.

The colors are so awful. The way that there is a hard line between the dark lavender and the scarlet which then fades into orange is. A choice. I would not have made. At all. In any way. Ever. At any point. Also the random dots of yellow are very funny because they are so clearly just random pixels of yellow. Some of them even aren't in the orange, so they're just like, highlights that have decided to break out of the highlighted areas. Did they.. want this to look like her burning dress? In which case, why are they.. blue? Her dress is black with orange embers, I don't GET IT.

Also small thing but it has a drop shadow, but like. She's literally in all black until she fully appears. And the swirling ribbons are dark-colored. There's no worry about them not standing out against a light background. Is that just supposed to look like she's surrounded by shadow if that's the case then why isn't the rest of this shadow AGH.

This looks weirdly... JPEG compressed??? Like, you can kiiinda see it in the big version, but if I shrink this down to phone resolution...

GOOD LORD SHE'S BEEN DEEP-FRIED.

S1 is good. I like it. It's simple, elegant. Good use of colors, and I think the impact looks great, good use of red and orange to create visual interest. Not gonna bother to screenshot it, it's not that interesting NEXT

S2!

Stop it. Stop it. Put a few colors away. I am counting 8 distinct colors in this one swing alone, and then two more for Ines herself. Stop it. That is too many colors. Add less colors.

I don't even see what the colors are there FOR. Are they selling the tip of the swing? That's not right, because the red highlights start at the tip, then swirl inwards until the red is in the inner part.

I do actually think this one is a lot better at actual resolution.

It's still too detailed, and that detail ends up being crunched and not really... serving any purpose in the grand scheme of the effect, but I do think it is... better. It makes it more clearly light on the outside, dark on the inside.

Also I hate the ends of this swing. I hate it. Why is one a perfect circle that's been stretched out and the other end a rectangle that's fading out. Why is that how you did this. This effect looks like two different swings that have been stapled together like goddamned Catdog.

BUT WHEN IT FADES IT HAS AN INKBRUSH LOOK SO WHAT IS THIS EFFECT.

Why not lean into the burning dress look? Have it be a black trail that like, burns away when it fades? That would be STUNNING, anything but. Whatever is happening here. Mrgrgr okay fine it can't get worse right

DEAR READER. I PRESENT. S3. THE CULMINATION OF EVERY SINGLE PROBLEM.

So this IS a stars theme after all. This IS stars? Just wanna make sure we're all on the same fucking page here.

Dear reader. I hate this. So fucking much. This may be, and I do truly mean this, the worst piece of VFX I have ever seen in any game. This doesn't read as a piece of VFX in an anime game, it reads like the background of a YA fantasy novel's cover.

The nebula doesn't move. It's static. It is clearly just a jpeg. It's not even doing the Chowder screen-space orientation thing. It's just. There. Inescapable.

The comet itself just. Ends. It doesn't fade out or taper. It just. Stops. There's barely any anti-aliasing here. It's just a hard line between the comet and the background.

Ines herself is surrounded by identical dark lavender and orange energy, so there's no visible difference between the effect and herself. Sure. It's not going to be onscreen long anyway. Who cares.

The center of the comet is bright white as if it's the highlight of the effect, but it's... it's off-center?? so it's ultimately... Highlighting something. is it highlighting the sword? Is it supposed to be a haze that shows you the sword? But it doesn't look like it because it took me 15 minutes while writing this to realize that the sword was there at all because it's the same orange color as all the other highlights and so it gets eaten. If your highlight color stops drawing my eye, then you've fucked up because that is literally what a highlight color is supposed to do. Where am I supposed to look at this thing, where is the focus, the shape?

It's even funnier that the blade leaves a little cartoony goofy team rocket blink when it leaves, before immediately turning into whatever public domain NASA star image they're using for the comet. A real glimpse into what it would look like if Spiderverse sucked ass. (I do like the blink itself tho, a small little blue haze to add color and contrast against light backgrounds, smart touch.)

Explosion sucks. Suddenly they decide the palette is something entirely different. Where did the yellow come from. Yellow isn't even on the art. I guess when your palette is that big, you can change them up how you want. I would actually like this effect if it was slightly less detailed and in a skin that had actually used this pallette. It reminds me a bit of Specter the Laurentina. But with this level of detail and these colors... This somehow looks more like a YA book cover. A Sword of Goats and Stars. Fuck me I hate it.

I almost like this buff uptime indicator, It's just that the red from the swords fades into the orange on her dress and makes the whole thing muddy. Also she has an actual roiling flame behind her LMAO GET DUNKED ON HOEDERER THAT'S RIGHT I WILL DUNK ON HIM EVERY TIME EVEN THIS PIECE OF TRASH HAS ONE UP ON THE HOE LMAOOOOO

(In fact I actually... think this might be a recurring texture? It looks familiar, but I can't pin down from where. This is a bad screenshot for showing it but I'm not bothering to get a new one. This is my mental breakdown and I get to choose the visual aids.)

Anyway, maybe I'm being mean. After all I'm criticizing an effect for being too detailed when I am actively zooming in and looking at the details. So let's shrink down to the resolution of my phone just to see how it would-

Ah.

Final Ouroboros VFX ranking: A jpeg compressed photo of a wizard airbrushed on a van / 18 Originium Prime. Actually wait no that sounds too cool. Uh. The wizard is also racefaking. Now it's no longer cool. Nailed it.

[ghoulsgraveyard]

Wear Them 2/3

a/n: so i decided to split this into three parts because i felt bad about how long its been since an update, i needed to feed yall. so this will have to tie you over until we get into the good shit. i may split this again just bc this fic has a mind of its own. this is not proofread, i will proof read it later tho.

warnings: Content warnings: feminization (reader calls Eddie a girl), panty theft (obvi), subsequent panty wearing, perv!eddie, degradation (the fun kind), fem!reader, reader has a vagina, sub!eddie, dom!reader, slut shaming but also virgin shaming (it makes sense don’t worry), some light cock and ball torture (genital slapping), spanking, emotional hurt/comfort (I dont know how that happened it just did) aftercare!

read part one here

You flicked the panties at his chest “you wanted them so bad. Wear them.”

Eddie seemed to realize what you meant in slow motion, putting the pieces together “intended purpose” and talking of him stretching them out… holy shit. You wanted him to wear your panties, and even more shocking to him, he wanted that too.

His mouth gaped like a fish, his lack of response causing you to pause “is that- would that be something you would want to do?” his response was immediate “yes fuck yes please uhh yes I feel like I should call you something other than your name while we do this or maybe I'm over thinking this and you’re not into that and the whole idea of calling you something else isn’t because I want to do this with someone else because uh im uh only interested in you and doing this with you and uh now I'm talking too much an-” shutting him up with a kiss “don’t worry about it baby. You can call me whatever you want, whatever makes you the most comfortable” you smiled against his lips. Eddie thought for a bit “promise you won’t laugh?” he said meekly, still fearing your judgment.

You held your hand up to his cheek and smoothed the skin of his cheek with your thumb, holding his face. In that moment you realized why Eddie was so hypersensitive towards you in particular. He can handle the judgment and ridicule from everyone else in this town, but not from you. You remembered all the times he would look to you after telling a joke to see if you’d laugh, or asking you to double check an assignment, even letting you read his book of lyrics. He had given you every piece of him, he looked to you for your approval, he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and in that moment you have never felt more important to another human being.

All you could do was smile warmly at him “oh baby I would never laugh at you” he practically whimpered, melting into your hand, then murmured “thank you master” he looked to you, silently asking if you liked that one, the groan you released more than answered him but just to reassure “that’s a great name you picked thank you baby.” Eddie beamed at the praise.

“Okay baby, before we do this I want to make sure you’re happy and safe the whole time, okay lovely? So to check in with you I'll ask you what color you’re feeling. If you feel good and safe say green, if you want to pause or slow down say yellow, and if I do something that makes you feel bad or unsafe I want you to say red. In the event you want to stop or pause or slow down, don’t wait for me to ask you baby, just shout out your color, okay?” he nodded along “I need to hear you tell me you understand baby” “I understand master” you smiled at him “good girl” eddie was immediately confused “I'm- master I'm a boy I'm not a girl” you raised your eyebrow at him, still smiling “honey I think you’re a bit confused, yeah?” you spoke to him like he was a lost dog, he nodded and you pouted at him “okay baby I'll help you make sense” suddenly you grabbed his chin, smushing his face in your hand forcing him to meet your gaze “when we’re playing, you are whatever I say you are. So if your master calls you a good girl, that’s what you are. Got it?” Eddie whined at the roughness of your grasp, “yes master thank you master” you gave him a curt nod “what’s your color baby?” eddie was still reeling but buzzing with excitement “green, master”

“Well?” you gestured to the panties “put them on slut.” eddie was beyond flustered, he began moving, then a truly delicious idea came to you “actually baby just lay there. Master will put them on for you.” he was glowing with embarrassment “what do you say sweetheart?” there was a pause as eddie tried to think of what you wanted to hear “thank you master” you beamed with pride “good girl, you’re catching on so quick! Such a good girl for your master” you swiped the panties off of his chest and settled yourself at the foot of the bed, the image was erotic. This big intimidating man who scared the whole town was trembling on his bed while you slipped a pair of panties between his feet. You swept them up slowly, the hair on his legs being pulled by the fabric, then released. The elastic of the legholes fought to accommodate his large thighs. You situated the underwear in the back first, pulling the gstring up so it sat correctly between his cheeks, now was the fun part. Eddie whimpered and you pull the fabric up in the front, slowly, torturously, the back of the panties pressed and pulled his tender sack while the front was still being rolled up by you. Swift finger adjusting the fabric that pushed his weeping cock against his stomach, you were delighted by a revelation: he was too big. Eddie’s dick was too long to fit in these panties, the elastic stopped about 3/4s of the way up, leaving the rest of him exposed. You watched as the red tip of his aching cock seemed to cry pre-cum, sticking to the patch of hair that trailed from his navel to his bush. You leaned back to take in the image. It was beautiful.

You looked at him from all angles like he was an art piece, how the straps sat above his hipbones, the way the elastic stretched to accommodate the cock sticking out of the top, how his full hairy balls couldn’t fit in the crotch and were practically cut in half by the g-string, the delicious way the fabric desperately stretched to hold his hard cock, practically busting at the seems. It was beautiful.

Eddie couldnt help but squirm under your watchful eye, and for the obvious reason. He whined which caused your gaze to snap back at his face “you look so pretty baby” you cooed at him “so pretty all dressed up for your master, such a pretty girl” eddie blushed and hid his face behind his hair when you called him that. He feels like he shouldn't like it as much as he does. You pet his face “you like that don’t you sweetheart? Hmm? You like it when master calls you a pretty girl?” clearing his throat “y-yes master I like being your pr-pretty girl” he was so bashful it was adorable

“why don't you go look at yourself in the mirror?” you stood up off the bed and offered him a hand, which he took shakingly, you led him to the full body mirror in his room, then stood behind him, both of you looking at him. Eddie rotates his hips, looking at himself from different angles just like you did. Your hands wrapped around his chest and grazed his torso with featherlight touches leaving goosebumps in their wake “look at you” you whispered “just gorgeous” your hands made their way down to his groin “such a pretty cock all wrapped up in lace” you squeezed his dick, hard. He hissed at the feeling “hurts'' he said through his teeth “good hurt or bad hurt baby?” you rubbed your palm over his bulge “g-good hurt.” a grin split your face “oh that’s good baby. You like it when your master hurts you?” you grabbed the leg holes of the panties and pulled them up roughly, causing the g-string to harshly dig into his balls, Eddie yelped at the sensation, the sound quickly morphing into a moan.

You bark out a cruel laugh at his response. “Well?” you growl at him, Eddie pants, his mind empty, his wide eyes bright but thoughtless, his jaw slightly dropped so his pink lips form an ‘o’ as he pants “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer me.” Eddie desperately wracks his brain for the question, finally he remembers, stuttering out “Y-yes master I l-love, I love it when you hu- hurt me master.” Whines caused him to interrupt himself, in his empty head all he could think about was how he could please you, impress you, you seemed happy when he talked, so he tried again to form words “Th-thank you for being so p-patient with m-me master” he gasped out. You gasped in delight, smiling wide “Oh baby look at you! My good girl has amazing manners. So proud of you sweetheart. I’m so happy with my little slut” Eddie soaked up the praise like a sponge to water, bathing in the warmth and depravity of your words “You’ve been so good for me, i think you deserve a reward.” you whisper to him like a secret “what do you think?” he nods quickly, hair shaking with the motion “yes master I would like a reward please.” you dig your nails into his hipbones and roughly pull him back onto the bed so he’s sitting back to chest with you facing his mirror. You lick and bite at his earlobe while snaking your legs to sit over his thighs, somewhat restraining him with your body. You let your fingernails drag up his hip bones and dance across his torso, his abdomen twitching at the light touches, cock continuing to drool just below his navel. Your fingers skirt up to his chest, drumming your fingers on his pectorals before allowing yourself to lightly circle his right nipple with your finger tip, the rosy bud hardening as you circle in tighter, you repeat the ministration on his other side before taking each nipple between your pointer and thumb. Eddie lets out a low hum at the sensation. You gently roll the skin between your fingers, gradually increasing pressure, until you’re fully pinching him. He squirms in your hold letting out whimpers and moans. You smile and continue to roll and tug at his sensitive skin, his hips jumping when you slap his chest. His gasp transfers seamlessly to a loud moan, skin prickling in reaction. “That feel good, little one?” you smile, already knowing the answer “uh-uh-huh feels really” you interrupt him with a slap to his other nipple, causing him to moan loudly “really, r-really good” the rest of his response came out in a whine. His head rolls back to rest on your shoulder, bangs sticky with sweat against his forehead, eyebrows pulled together with fluttering eyelids occasionally revealing the whites of eyes rolled back, mouth hung open in pleasure. He looks depraved. He looks divine.

You drag your nails across the reddened and raised skin “it’s a little bit funny” you muse “because you’re a slut, but you’re such a little virgin huh baby?” he whimpers, you continue “it’s pathetic, it really is, but it’s endearing how hard you try. Try hard to come across as this big scary man out in the world, but i slap you around and suddenly you’re my pathetic little girl. You’re not scary at all, you couldn’t hurt anything.” he nods in agreement, you lick the skin between his chin and his ear, biting his earlobe before you whisper “but I can” he whines loud and high in his throat, at the sensation and your promise of delicious pain. “Wh-what do you mean master?” he licks his lips, eyes straining to look at you from his place on your shoulder “oh all sorts of good hurt i could give you. I was thinking, because of how much you like when i slap you, i’d like to see your pretty ass over my lap.” He blinks at you slowly “Thats your cue to lay yourself over my lap baby.” He quickly scrambles into position in a manner who’s absence of grace is substituted by enthusiasm.

taglist:

@g4ys0n @sunxflowerlou @maxwiththeaxe @creepyco13 @billhaderstan420 0 @ilovestrongmen @sad1st1c-wh0re @santawasbisexual

[kahvilahuhut]

work at night

see the whole drawing here

summary: Someone might have ended up too deep in thought while doing work stuff *checks notes* at night 🙄 In fact, so deep that its wife ended up waking up and wondering where it is.

a little scene idea i've had for cynosure for a while hehe <3 will obviously change a bit once i actually get to it, but, well, here's version one i guess? definitely not written at night noooo why are you looking at me like that

"What's up?"

Tobias turned around at the sudden voice and noticed Klara leaning on the doorway. "I- uh-", it looked around, as if collecting its thoughts to formulate a proper answer.

"Is that my wool shirt?"

"Um. Yes. It's the first thing I found on the floor. It was dark and I didn't feel like switching the lights on to look for something else. Very comfy, especially now that the heating is glitching...again,"it replied, smiling, "Though the best part is that it smells like you."

"Well, it..." Klara's voice was closer this time, her hands gently touching it's shoulders, "...looks good on you..."

"Oh, stop it," it chuckled and leaned its head to kiss her fingers.

"Someone doesn't like compliments..."

"Mmh, or do I... As for the first question, well... I woke up. Realized I forgot my meds. Went here to take them," it started listing its steps, folding a finger on its hand on each step, "And then I- um. I got some kind of an idea, I think? Erin asked me to look at a specific part of the code, which she doesn't remember writing. No one does. So I wanted to see and take a look myself. Then I decided to just go look at the whole thing and. Um." It shrugged with a smile on its face. "I guess... Here I am?"

"Honey, that's- Do you know what time is it?"

Tobias froze for a moment, then glanced at the clock screen on the microwave.

3:37 am.

"Oh, fuck," it muttered.

"Thought so," Klara chuckled and gently wrapped her arms around it while softly kissing the top of it's head. "Aren't you tired, honey?"

"Maybe a little? I swear I didn't notice, I- Fuck, I forgot to switch the clock feature back on," it muttered and brought up the settings panel, "Switched it off at work because it felt like time was going soooo slow during the meeting, it felt a bit annoying. I know that sounds a bit childish, but, well..."

"No, I think that's a fun decision. As long as it makes you feel better..." she murmured in its ear and kissed its neck softly. "Meetings are like that sometimes... Nights are the opposite. You feel like it's taking very little time but in reality time flies so fast..."

It nodded, leaning its head somewhat lazily, smiling as Klara's lips moved down to its shoulder. "But, um, thing is, I found something, and didn't want to leave it for tomorrow. What if I forget about it or miss some specific thought I had tonight if I won't write it down, things like that," Tobias said quietly, gesturing at the hologram, "Really couldn't get up or anything."

"Please tell me you haven't been sitting on a kitchen counter looking through some work data for hours. During night."

"I won't tell. But, well..."

"God, Tobias, I can't even explain with words what I'm thinking right now."

"Mm... Well, um, mind if I finish going through this document? It's the last one, I promise."

"You can't be serious..." she sighed and leaned her head on its shoulder, "Fine. But I'm staying here."

"Ooh, won't hear me objecting or anything."

It scrolled through the file to find the part it was reading before being interrupted, and quickly typed a small note near the paragraph before it continued reading.

"Why do you use a grey highlighter?" Klara murmured.

"Um. I don't know, really. I usually pick whichever color looks nice," it opened the highlighter settings, "Really love using this warm yellow tone, you know, like dandelions. Or this light orange one. Or this one, reminds me of sand or something. Or the sky blue...And this fun matcha green."

"You're adorable..."

"Trying my best..." it said while adding another note, and smiled as she kissed its cheek.

"You know, looking at you doing all this makes me think if I should get the hologram thing too... It's pretty fun, watching you wave your hands around and typing on some not existing keyboard."

"Mmh... do you want the actual device or do you want to watch my hands?"

"Take a guess."

"It gets warm sometimes. A bit weird feeling, you know? Maybe I should've bought the newer model. But it's kinda nice."

"Honey, I meant-"

It stopped reading mid-paragraph and reached with its left hand to gently stroke Klara's cheek. "I know what you meant, dear, I'm just joking," it turned its head a little for a moment and smiled at her, before turning back to the hologram. After a moment of reading a few more paragraphs, it sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Klara, I know it's weird for me to care so much about some work stuff. Man, even saying it out loud feels odd, you know? But I just want to finish this thing, because someone else would have ended up doing this tomorrow. Along with other tasks as well. And, um... I don't know. I thought I should do it myself?"

"Oh, sunshine," she murmured against its shoulder, "You know you should put yourself first, sometimes, right?"

"Mmhmm... but why shouldn't I if I can and want to do it?"

Klara moved a little to kiss its cheek, "You're a good person. Maybe a bit too good. Definitely better than what this project deserves."

Tobias half smirked and half bit its lower lip, thinking about the last sentence, before continuing to read the last paragraph. It felt Klara's hands slowly move off its body, giving its shoulder a pat before she moved next to the sink. Half concentrated on the text, other half listening to the sound of water filling an empty glass, it highlighted a few words and tapped its wrist to close the interface.

It jumped down off the kitchen counter, only to go sit on its other side, facing Klara.

"Honey? You mentioned going to take meds, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Did you take them?"

"Uhhh... um," it sat quietl, trying to remember what it was doing before. After a moment, it answered, "I don't remember," with the last word turning into a yawn.

Klara shook her head and picked up something near the sink. Turning around to face it, she gently handed it two pills and kissed its forehead. "You know, you should get one of those little pill boxes to put them near the bed."

Tobias chuckled and swallowed both pills, quietly refusing the glass of water. "Please, they won't all fit in there."

"I'll get you three of them tomorrow."

"Klara, please, don't be ridiculous," it murmured and leaned towards her, "The packages are somewhat visible here in the kitchen. Most of them. And besides, we don't always sleep on the bed anyway."

She cupped its face and smiled. "Fine, if you say so," she said, though Tobias could see that she was still going to go buy them. As it leaned into her right hand, while smiling as she gently stroked its cheek with her left thumb, Klara continued, "You sure you're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, um, stress-wise, for example? It's been a while since you've had sleep problems this bad."

It looked at her, getting lost in own thoughts again for a moment, before realizing that it had lost control of its face, that was now showing a small frown. "I'll be fine, don't worry, honey," it smiled and gently kissed her hand, "You know I'll tell you if I'm not doing well."

"You better," she said, then added, "Please."

"I will."

"Mmh," Klara sighed and stroked its hair. "Now, how about we finally go back to sleep?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

[hunterbunter3000]

Idk if it’s been brought up yet, but I was getting ready for bed and putting my bonnet on and it dawned on me: what would the boys think when they see Sweetheart in a bonnet!?!? And you know she has like 20 different ones lmao. Soap/König would totally help her wrap her hair teehee 🤭

IM ANSWERING THIS AS QUICK AS I CAN 🏃‍♀️💨💨💨(and the fact that you thought of Sweetheart while getting ready for bed honestly makes me want to cry fr fr)

BUT YEW ARE CORRECT ABOUT SWEETS HAVING 20 BONNETS

She would call Soap in her room to help her wrap her hair and omg he would be in heaven. Her hair is so soft and smells so GOOD UGH

She would hand him the Bobby pins and tell him where to put them

Sweetheart: And put this one-- here

Sweetheart: OW-- I SAID HERE NOT MY EYEBROW

Soap: QUIT MOVIN' THEN

Then she would kick him out before putting on the bonnet cause she wanted to see how he would react to it (since he's never seen her wear one- none of them have actually 🤔🤔 she's an early riser, so when everyone gets up in the morning her hair is already done LOL)

I feel like she would have more than 20-- like about 40 but the other 20 is at her house 💀💀 OMG she came out her dorm in a bonnet they went CRAZYYYY

they would love it so much cause if feels so domesticated to them-- like their actually getting ready for bed with the girl of their dreams Sweetheart

And Soap would just have stars in his eyes, feeling the bonnet between his fingers

Soap, gasping: BITCH is this SATIN??

Sweetheart, being a smug Lil shit: BITCH YES IT IISSSS

Gaz would be reminiscing about wearing one when he was younger

Gaz: My mum used to have me wear one when I was a kid

Sweetheart, smiling: Really?!? Oh that's so cute!

Gaz, flustered: ehheheh, yeah. When I used to have hair, she put one on me so it could be perfect for picture days.

And Sweetheart started laughing cause that's ADORABLE

And then she leaves to go to her room and comes back with like-- ten different colored bonnets 💀

Sweetheart, with a devilish smile: Everyone put one on right now. I need to make fun of you real quick

Alex: MEAN

They all put one on except for Ghost (for now) Soap had a blue one cause SCOTLAND FOREVEEEERRRRRRR (he screamed that for 12 minutes.) Gaz got a red one, Price got a gold one cause he's a PIMP, Alex got a light purple one, Horangi had a yellow one with tiger stripes, König got a green one and Roach got an orange one.

Now it was just Ghost--

Sweetheart: Wear it.

Ghost: No.

Sweetheart: JUST FOR A BIT PLEASE

Ghost: NO-- WHY THE FUCK DO I GET THAT COLOR

Sweetheart: BECAUSE JUST-- FUCKIN PUT IT ON

Ghost: STOP IT

She fights him for a bit until she got it on him.

It was silent for so damn long.

Sweetheart started to snort, and then it was just LOUD LAUGHTER

Ghost: I'M TAKING THIS OFF

Sweetheart, crying: NO WAIT LEMME TAKE A PICTURE

The picture:

(I sketched this so damn quick bro)

LMAOOO I CANT WTF DID I JUST CREATE

Everyone started laughing harder and Ghost threw the bonnet on the floor and stomped to his room

Sweetheart: EY DONT THROW MY SHIT THAT COSTED ME TWENTY DOLLARS

Alex: TWENTY DOLLARS??? This economy is in shambles

Sweetheart: Okay now give them back

Sweetheart: 'cept you Gaz, you can keep yours

Gaz: 0:)

[pluage-docters-go-brrrrrr]

Very out of character thing I made, might as well be it's own au. Very dumb and very stupid. Dumb and dumber type shit.

Word count: unknown.

Author: me

Summary: Megatron and Ratchet make a very chaotic youtube video together that ends in disaster, which is then sumerized by a random unknown narrator who is somewhat unreliable.

Look, I don't watch cooking videos. I like my food pre-prepared or fast. But for some reason the youtube algorithm thought it would be fun to show me a cooking video. It was called "Making a snack to eat while your frenemy sends their bf to kill their haters." With two robots on the thumbnail in a kitchen. A tall silver one trying to work a microwave oven, and a smaller white and orange one making a bruise with make up.

Now I know what your thinking, what the fuck, why is this a thing. Well I'm here to tell you that that thought never leaves the whole damn video. The video starts with the tall silver one standing next to the small white and orange one, who is white and red right now, staring unnervingly at the camera. He changes color throughout the video. Noone knows what color he actually is.

"Greatings humans, it is I Lord Megatron and today we are doing something different." The silver one, Megatron, opens. "Instead of the Huckleberry Finn review you were promised because the autobot medic here has someone who needs to die and I want to watch. But it would be boring with out a snack so I'm making an oreo mug cake. Isn't that right doctor?"

The white nodds at the camera and smiles awkwardly. It is very obvious he doesn't know what he's doing. "Your support to talk." Megatron tells him.

"I'm sorry but booktok doesn't pay my bills, the United States government does." The doctor says angerly.

"I don't do booktok!! I review books that these flesh-bags call classics! And you wanted to do this!" The silver robot points an accusing Tallon at his companion.

"I didn't think it would be awkward! Honestly you would think they would make cameras less soulless." The doctor complains looking away placing his hands on his hips.

"IT'S NEON PINK!" Megatron yells starting a yelling match.

"THE LENSE ISN'T!"

"THEN DON'T LOOK AT THE LENSE!"

"THEN THE VIDEO WILL LOOK WEIRD!" That ends the yelling and starts the first fight of the video. A video that is a hour and a half long.

Megatron starts it by punching the medic in the face, knocking him to the ground. Then said medic pounces on the silver robot, attaching himself to his back and starts throwing punches. It takes three tries before he is flung off. Falling to the floor the white robot's hands turn to blades and he stabs the silver one, making him roar in pain. He then picks him up by his head his finger knives making dents that are leaking, a strange blue liquid.

The autobot then opens his eyes and points, "Are those new mugs?" He ask like his head isn't being held in a vice grip.

He is instantly dropped and Megateon holds up the various colored mugs, "Yes they are, thank you for pointing them out." The silver one says graciously, his fingers now covered in blue. "I got them because Soundwave didn't want me to use his mugs." He shows them to the camera, "We have a red one, a blue one, a pink one, my favorite the purple one-"

"Probably because it looks like dark energon." The medic says sassily. Holding his head.

He gets a side eye from Megatron, "Ratchet, you know it is not that. It's because purple is my favorite color, you know that. Anyways, we have a green one, a yellow one, a white one, a black one, and lastly an orange one." Megatron puts down the mugs and pulls out a microwave oven and a cook book, along with some oreos.

"Doctor why don't you show the people your set up." He ask. Ratchet then gets out a make up mirror, eye shadow, blush, and other make up related things along with a computer.

"I'm going to use these to fake a bruise to get Ultra Magnus in trouble and hopefully have Optimus kill him." Ratchet says putting his materials on the other end of the counter near the sink.

"Why do you need Prime to kill his second in command, doctor?" Megatron asked in the fakest voice on the planet.

"Well he got me in trouble for arson, and that's one of the few things I can do for fun on this planet. So now I'm going to be crocheting durring knitting time and baking durring killing time." Ratchet responds, looking mournful of his lost time.

"You have a designated time for murder?"

"I'm stuck at base all day I need something to entertain me and if running over random people is that entertainment then so be it!"

"What type of people do you run over?"

"Oh, just random people. I ran over this one guy who was laying in the middle of the road. I mean he was losing blood at a fast rate and would've died anyway. Their was also this high-schooler with weird hair with him. It looked like a pice of stake."

They look at eachother for a bit before Megatron gets back to he video. Showing off his microwave and getting his messering spoons along woth th other ingredients. Om skipping this part because it not really that eventful. All that happens is Megatron starts making the mug cakes while Ratchet looks for tutorials on how to make bruises with makeup. They do end up fighting again, like three times over the same thing. Which is the oreos running out. Then a fourth because Megatron can't use a microwave to save his life.

They use like three boxes of normal oreos before using the fourth of July ones, which cause a verbal argument. Then when those are used up they pull out the golden oreos. Megatron sets up the mug before coming to a dilemma.

"Okay," Megatron starts, "so Soundwave got these because he doesn't know the recipe. So like what do we do with them?"

Ratchet, who is midway through a tutorial on how to make an authentic black eye and absolutely battered and worn, turns around, "just take out the cocoa powder and add more vanilla extract."

"Yeah, but how much vanilla because the original recipe calls for 1/4 teaspoon of vanilla and-" Ratchet goes up their and adds one whole teaspoon of vanilla. Which was apparently way too much because Megatron's jaw was practically on the floor.

"WHY WOULD YOU ADD THAT MUCH?!"

"YOU NEED TO MAKE UP FOR THE LACK OF FLAVOR! WE TOOK OUT THE COCOA POWDER! THAT HELPS GIVE FLAVOR!"

"COULDN'T YOU ADD LESS?"

"YOU CAN ADD LESS ON THE NEXT ONE!"

Then the fight. Ratchet punches Megatron in the face pushing him back and causing him to bite his lip. Which makes him bleed, this is the first time he bleeds in the video, unlike Ratchet who is covered in scabs. He even picked at one at some point.

Since that is clearly unacceptable Megatron punches the air out of the good doctor knowing him down and making him gasp. Ratchet gets up though and starts acting feral, hes growling and biting as Megatron tries to shove him off and shoo him away. The autobot gets on all fours at one point. They end up cooking the cake and make the reast with half as much vanilla.

Then nothing happens again. They use up all the oreos and Ratchet finishes the makeup tutorial. They quickly hide everything and set up the snacks. Conveniently They don't even have to get Ultra Magnus because he walking in as Megatron walks out of the room.

"What happened to you?" He asks, talking about all the dents scratches and scabs on the medics body and not the fake bruise, he doesn't even knkw about it since Ratchet's facing away from him.

"Nothing..." The medic says.

Now to be honest I went way to go switch my laundry so I don't know what happens next, but I do know that when I came back Magnus was getting his ass handed to him by -who I'm guessing is- Optimus Prime while Ratchet's crying on the floor and Megatron's eating the mug cakes and giving a review on each one.

Now Magnus looks worse than Ratchet, who's makeups has smeared and rolling down his face from the tears he's crying, and is getting his head bashed agenst the counter were Ratchet was doing his make up. He's just getting bodied by Optimus. Then the video cuts to just Megatron sitting in his room with a mugcake.

"So my camera died while recording, but Ultra Magnus was not killed, he was simply beaten within an inch of his life and is banned from going near the good doctor. So Knockout had to treat him. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the video, make sure to comment, subscribe, and smash that like button. I will see you in the next video."

Then a cringe 2016 outro plays and the video ends. Now, what your probably thinking is still what the fuck, why did they do that? Well, they don't even know themselves, and they never made another video like it. Honestly I don't even know why I watched it, I can't even end the summary it's that crazy. So, um, bye.

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Somewhere Only We Know

Summary: Plo Koon has an old book called ‘The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces’ that features numerous species blessed with physicalities. Reader/OC is born of the planet called Celestia which is inhabited by ethereal sight for sore-eyes. While they feature and exalt you as an upper echelon of beauty and grace, you vehemently plot against the author who Plo had once confided in you as someone who seems to have captivated his heart — a bully who had taunted him and riled others to make fun of Kel Dors and Plo as a youngling. You kept your friendship with Plo and though your heart bleeds for him, as it beats only for him, you decide to yet again express your desire to act in spite and avenge your most favorite Kel Dor in the galaxy. Only to be reminded of something else.

Pairing: Plo Koon / OC/Reader (idk how this works — sorry!)

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: (no smut) Maybe sad-turned-happy vibes? Idk

Notes: - Peaching (headcanon) is a form of encouraged relations by the people and law of Celestia that allows you to be in a consensual 'exchange' with no attachment. Essentially, a gatepass to fuck, be intimate with, be flirty with, be touchy with, or be with someone bound or unbound given that all parties are in agreement and consents. (will get detailed on this if I ever decide to dish out wips from ancient time) - Chrysanthemums are my most favorite flower ♥ A yellow chrysanthemum blossom signifies neglected love or sorrow. A white chrysanthemum is a symbol of loyalty and devoted love. - OC/Reader is a bounty hunter with natborn silver irises and is an unhinged bitch who is overprotective of Plo Koon and will fight everyone for him. (It's me, really. I'm just wildin') - OC/Reader Reference Image https://www.instagram.com/p/CfJ891cJVpG/

Color thingies because I'm deranged to not use them: Orange: Plo Koon Pink: You/OC/Reader Blue: Memory Purple: Me, because I have no self-control to self-insert myself whenever Plo and Kel Dors are mentioned. I'm sorry >:

Perfect divider by @idontgetanysleep with itty, bitty, cutie-patootie Plo Koon face ♥

“Just say the word, P. It’s on the house.”

You didn’t really need his permission let alone reveal any involvement should you decide to act on ‘it’. You’ve had her as a client before and the transaction wasn’t as pretty as her face — it was vile, filthy, and a cheapshot at an innocent target who happens to share attention from a prospective boyfriend. Yes, a prospective boyfriend who clearly has no intention of breaking off an engagement with the poor, unfortunate soul, you have removed from a certain narrative.

A sickening chronicle in ‘her’ life as if her claim takes precedence over anything factual. Hadn’t you been in such a rut with bounties, you would’ve never taken the job. But you did and it kept food on the table, a nice roof on your head for a short while, and got a beaut of a decent ship to cruise around in. 

It’s never honest work, the killing part; but it's honest enough to be on paper and get you lined up with a few more bounties to get by. A couple of tracking fobs in turn of a good night’s sleep, a proper soak, and a treat to buy essentials and non-essentials. Essentials being food, fuel, repair and maintenance, pieces to fortify the little armor you have on because clearly, you need to flaunt to flex — that, and the fact that Celestians are vain by nature. Considering you age similar to Kel Dors, if you ain’t keeping that pretty face and body on point, you might as well off yourself for being a disgraced child of Celestia.

As for non-essentials that border the essentials category, an assortment of powdered fruit tea from your recent trip to Dorin. 

Plo would chuckle, always that — never to confirm, never to deny, always enigmatic over the idea of vengeance. Though it may be an obvious answer with him being a Master Jedi and a Baran Do Sage, valuing life and shit, you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s because he truly still admires her and the memory of feeling ‘it’ for the first time is so strong that it has indeed withstood the test of time. It was either that or he’s in one of those moods where he’s psycho-bullshitting you to reflect and turn to the light — what an absolute devout to the force Plo Koon is, aka force-dweeb ; i.e whore only to the force.

Awestruck if that was the case but also a very disheartening concept. Then again, who were you talk? Wasn’t it your own volition to always tag along and linger in sparring fields and dojos while father met with the Jedis, handing vital information privy only to the Republic? Wasn’t it in your own accord to walk up to this rust-toned sentient because you had that undying need to pull on his mask and kiss him? Maybe not kiss him yet at time, but you’re quite the unhinged individual who would happily die to quelch the inquisitions in your head and kissing was a Celestian tradition to mark. All’s fair, right?

You just wanted to touch him, his face — eyes that had those black ‘thingies’ that made you wonder what color his irises were while the burgeoning need to unmask the lower chamber of his face grew with each passing second; more so when he started to speak.

Not much has actually changed apart from him — now a towering old man with more grace, reverence, importance, patience, strength, and other things that you’d like to unravel. Dirty as that sounds, who can blame you? 

Have you seen the build on his chest and shoulders? Have you not heard the thunderous rumble of his godly voice that makes you want to drop on your knees and worship that impeccable form of his? — That makes you want to shamelessly surrender to the domineering, magnetic, regal of an enchantment that has imprisoned your heart, mind, and soul to be his devout little bitch? 

Have you not, even for a second, want to burn through the fiery embers of his soul and lose yourself into the intoxicating dream of sifting through the intricacies of his intelligence and wisdom? To drown in answers and queries that would have you begging like a desperate whore to tell you more? More of that three-hundred year-old archive of knowledge that just swims in his head so invitingly like the cold lakes of home on a hot summer day? Have you not, even for a second, thirsted to the enigma that is Plo Koon and his privacy? Have you not sinfully starved for someone’s coc—-

“Tea?”

He could read your mind and throw you out; dismiss or reprimand you for being such an obvious simp for him, but he doesn’t — doesn’t always at least. Doesn’t invade your thoughts unless it’s one of those days when you were so rattled from a hunt that you didn’t even know how you ended up at his place; why you, a clean-freak, has yet to wash the blood over skin so smooth you whine over the tiniest of scratches and smudge.

“I can sense the evident thirst “be” at peak today, dearest.”

Did I mention that though he does not invade your thoughts without necessity, he’s also a little shit Kel Dor prick? That he’s the humblest of all humbles but has a side to him that makes you want to strangle him in his sleep and ride his brains back to when he’s an itty, bitty, egg and make omelet for breakfast? 

“Yes, babylove. The thirst ‘be’ insanely high today. I mean, did I ever tell you how kriffin’ hot you look in those Jedi robes? I mean the browns and the beige just screams BDE!!! I could just.. Unf.”

You bit your lip to taunt, whether it was to set the familiar banter at play from a mere satirical retort or a guise because ‘he really do be looking fine in them robes’, it’ll be one of the many unspoken understanding and mystery that the two of you seem to dodge.

“BDE? I’m not certain I’ve heard of that before.”

“Big Dorin Energy.” Came your reply — one as abrupt as you had brought the cup to drink so painstakingly slow in hopes of boring him enough to move on.

“Mm.”

“What?” 

Did I also tell you how oppressive Plo Koon’s silent treatment can be? No, well okay. It is.

“Whaaaat?”

“...”

Not a crease on his brow area, neither a shift from his demeanor came about apart from him attaching a metallic, contractible straw to his mask with a soft click before taking a sip from his cup. 

“Ugh. Fine. It’s Big Dick Energy, okay? Are you happy? You’re such an old man, Plo.” 

You always say this and without fail, it drives you so far up the wall you’d be at the same level as Plo — or taller. And as much as it elicits illicit thoughts, seeing yourself more drawn to finely seasoned men, Plo always gave the same response. The same ‘Indeed I am” that teeters between melancholy, amusement and pride. 

Stars, he’s so kriffin’ cute.

“Very much so, my dear. The quest for knowledge never ceases.”

Cute and a disgustingly adorable dweeb. I love him so much and I’m sure you do too.

After a couple more exchange of pleasantries, you’ve found yourself rambling on about the strife of a recent hunt where you’ve procured a bad sprain that had somewhat permanently altered your balance. How you nearly fell off after a grapple-pull mishap because of a calculated step that failed due to said injury. 

You went on about how it cut the payment since you weren’t able to deliver the target on time. He’d have asked a million questions too that riled you up to the point of completely forgetting your purpose of visit — your constant ‘let it be me’ visit that never seems to progress because of that stupid book tucked under his stupid bed that this stupid bitch gave him some stupid centuries ago. 

“All you have to say is leave her alone, Plo. And I will.” 

You cut the story short and as much as you’d expect him to be surprised that you had caught on, he wasn’t. He knew you would break free from the trance of having someone so keenly interested in your non-Jedi approved activities; namely bounty hunting and escapades — you do this thing where you commit theft for a hot minute and leave payment with a little extra at the most  obvious place they wouldn’t look until they’ve simmered down to notice a note you’ve left. Funny that he doesn’t scold you for this but tells tales of how Dorin will treat this behavior differently. You can tell he loves a bit of mischief as long as you return to the proper action — then again, this petty theft of a mischievous act is punishable by death in Kel Dor standards; so maybe, no?

“Celestians are on page 9.” 

Vanity betrays you by blood and nature. You wanted to smack him for saying that but you also want to smack (smooch) him for saying that. It’s not like you didn’t have a copy of the infamous book, but it’s so badly worn from testing a plethora of melee weapons on it, the numerous holes and soot makes any of the text unreadable and the photos indiscernible. You had copies of it too, memorized the entire book looking for any praise for Kel Dors and found not a single word of mention even. 

The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces — in which enumerates and highlights a selection of upper echelon species that included yours in the most exalted tier. Your kind were the most ethereal species on the planet; silver irises, short fangs that elongate during ‘peaching and mating seasons’, skin deathly pale, smooth, and soft; blood translucent and voices a potent concoction of sweet, sultry, and heavenly with that right dabble of filth.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

You hated that book. Abhorred it to an unhealthy extent that you were but a push away from writing your own book and raining hell on her specifically, but you know within yourself that Celestians are not allowed to interfere — which is essentially why, though you do not need his permission and can actually act upon it deny involvement with a help of the top bounty hunter in the galaxy who you’d happen to be in the good graces of, it just didn’t seem right. You know in your hearts of hearts that Plo will be very disappointed and quiet about it.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I know. My brother and I are in it. He had said yes before consulting me and it was too late for me to back out when I knew who wrote it. Did you ask because you know I’d never dare "read" that shit?”

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I asked because you have something of mine.” 

“Of yours?”

And it was indeed some Jedi mind trick because of the centuries and numerous copies you’ve annihilated "without ever once reading" the contents of that book, there you sat frivolously sifting through pages and scanning the photo of yourself with a crystalized necklace of a white moth.

Your hand instinctively went to your chest, cupping the pendant that had kept your heart steady and your mind clear since the day you decided to hunt that stupid moth that landed on his stupid face while he was meditating.

I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

A sense of warmth engulfs you in that moment of recollection; how he had blamed you for scaring the moth away after his master did the same prior. How his little balled up fists were on his side and the creases of his face were so drawn down that you laughed so hard you fell back clutching your stomach. How you saw him ‘frown’ behind his masked face and turned quietly to walk away.

I felt the earth beneath my feet

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ]

How in that moment you swore nothing would ever matter more than for his stupid face to never ever crease into that stupid frown. How in that moment, his little ‘Please don’t do that — it really hurts,” made you need nothing or no one else than this beautiful sentient before you who chose to meditate alone because the other shit-pricks were making fun of how he looks.

I came across a fallen tree

You recall how you didn’t even apologize. How you ran up to him and put on that equally stupid face you do with father when you didn’t want him to leave so you could play with him or have him take you to some off-world planet to pick and study flowers to tend to your insatiable need need to adorn your room with so many flower crowns it’s become hazardous in itself. 

And before you could say anything, before you could rip off that stupid page in that stupid book that has your stupid face and that stupid pendant that you’ve worn for centuries as you both kept by each other’s side and comfort, something heavy weighs on the page.

I felt the branches of it looking at me

A chrysanthemum pair — entwined of one yellow and one white; withered, but you know it to be so. You know not only by heart and by the memory of you breaking the knots of your self-made flower crown that adorned your pretty little presence on that fateful day, having to vehemently rummage and pull from the assortment to find the ‘perfect’ one for the stupid frown on his stupid face.

Is this the place we used to love?

You know not only by the nostalgic drop of flowers between your silver irises that pooled at the thought of hurting the stupid-faced sad boy meditating by his lonesome and the young Kel Dor that had his fists balled ready to push or strike — to alleviate himself of any pain and hurt that deeply wounded him that day but chose not to. 

Your brothers did that — pushed and yelled out of irritation, shoved you a little too hard sometimes but eventually came around. But Plo didn’t — he didn’t yell or push you, didn’t run off or threaten you, didn’t even do anything but ask so politely; asked so kindly as if he would break into as many as the stars above and it frightened you. 

To be young and alone, to be so far from home, to be so far from mother and father and even your siblings; to having to go back inside a place you could hardly call ‘home’. To do nothing but train, clean, meditate, and study; to not be able to play with people of your kind, to not be able to run to father or mother when you’ve tripped and get tight hugs and forehead kisses; to not be able to snuggle up and build forts with silly brothers, steal snacks from the kitchen and tell tales of horrific stories and gossip until you all fall asleep, only to wake up between mother and father.

It frightened you so much that you felt ‘it’. Whatever ‘it’ was, you felt it. You felt ‘it’ radiate from him in such an alarming wave that it had rendered you speechless with hands quivering between two stupid chrysanthemum flowers pulled from your crown of glory. It frightened you that something had made you frantically drop to your knees and fuss about which color, which flower to give him as if the thread of the galaxy’s hold would break if you didn’t do ‘it’ right — whatever ‘it’ was.

The grip on the pendant tightens and you could feel your jaw clench only before you were made aware of the tears that had betrayed you for quite a while now. The taste of horrid saline that had taken a detour from your cheeks and down to your lips; a grim reminder that you have yet again bore yourself to Plo when you've promised countless times never to do so. 

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Jedi kriffing mindtrick. 

And if you have a minute, why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know?

Part of you wanted him to look, maybe lean over and brush the tears off your cheeks; to take that stupid mask off for a brief second and kiss you just as how you had hoped for when you first saw him. But you know he couldn’t —for so many goddamn reasons. And it’s okay, it really is. He could press his mask on your cheek though, right? Right? Right, Plo?

“Big dick energy indeed, you prick.”

Your voice broke and so did you face as you shamelessly sobbed onto palms that only did very little to hide everything; the sniffles, the whimpers, the brewing gasps of air as you tried your best to stifle it all at once. But of course you fail massively, it was not even an option to begin with. He carried so much power and reverence that if he had decided to open that hidden script between just the two of you, you’ll crumble so far into the depths of all these repressed dreams and emotions that you'd drag him with you. 

This could be the end of everything

And so it remains just that; a hidden script in the narrative that is you and Plo Koon. The same script that loomed when drinks were shared, stories laughed over, and tears shed over just about anything. The same hidden script that will always thicken the air with the purest form of love — if he would allow ‘it’ to be called just that. 

But even that would remain as enigmatic as Plo Koon — and so it shall be as it always has been; a hidden script that is you and Plo Koon; the narrative that has spanned centuries and will weave more.

He would only turn his back to you, remorsefully. Give you privacy and company at the same time like the stupid conundrum that he is; leave if you want me to cry in peace, you’d think to yourself — but stay so I can.

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Tears drip past the barrier of your palms and onto the page that kept the withered pair as if it would somehow unearth the once vibrant colors that bridged the paleness of your small hand with his rust-toned talons many centuries ago. That somehow it would caress your bleeding heart with the memory of his stupid smile plastered on his stupid face when he said “It’s okay. There’s more moths here, come on.”

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ] {any excuse to use these baby Kel Dors kids}

Sat by the river and it made me complete Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on So, tell me when you're gonna let me in

That somehow these insignificant droplets would relive the careful touch of his clawed hand over your soft, small palm as he dragged you past the bushes he hid behind and into this expanse of a lake full of fireflies and moths and flowers and fishes and him, and his smile, and his touch, and his face, and his warmth, and his presence, and his —.

“Do you understand now?”

Somewhere only we know

Drenched palms erratically ran through evenly drenched cheeks to dry them off. Eyes puffed and nose a shy tone of red as you continued to sniffle and curse inwardly as to why he still hasn’t offered you a box of tissues. But it’s there though, the box of tissues — so very close to your side of the table when it usually is at the center. 

What a babe, right? Inconspicuous babe and his inconspicuous gentlemanly ways.

You took a few pulls and gently dabbed your face. Took another few more pulls and before you could dab them onto the page that held the embodiment of your love, loyalty, friendship, and promise of forever, you heard him cut you before you were even half-way down.

“Don’t.” 

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

You turn to look at him, watching him ease back into a reclined manner — his face still in the direction of the empty space before him; but you know. You know that at the corners of those black ‘thingies’ over his eyes are those beautiful silver irises that matched yours. You know that in the tenderness of his voice would be the same yearning that not a single word would ever be enough to describe. That in the manner of which his shoulder would sag and his head would meet the rest of his couch that ‘it’ is here; that ‘it’ is here with you. That ‘it’ is neither about the book or anything else; that ‘it’ is but here, anywhere, everywhere with you.

That ‘it’ is the fact that you have something of his and he has something of yours. That ‘it’ has always been the same ‘it’ from the day that you broke his tiny, young heart and mended it so swiftly and gently that ‘it’ has stayed with him over centuries as so did ‘it’ with you.

That ‘it’ is indeed what you think it is if you’ve gotten this far. That ‘it’ is indeed ‘home’ — a place that only you and him knows. 

“You’re such a sappy old man, Plo. I’ll see you again soon, okay?” 

You say, closing the book and carefully resting it on the caf table. You grunt and sniffle, groaning as you stretched and tapped your ankles together as if to activate the thrusters and wait for command. By the window, your usual preference of entry, you took a deep breath and ran fingers delicate over your bare crown down to the length of your hair. 

This could be the end of everything

“In the meantime, please allow me to use this as a reason to extract you from your duties, my sweet. Your company is always appreciated.” 

Plo collects the book almost protectively and sets it on his lap, palming the cover as he finally turns to address your departure. 

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

“Kriffin’ dweeb. Just say I love you next time. Easier on the tongue.”

And as you take your flight, you hear him among the blanketed skies, just when you’re far enough and too lazy to turn, you hear him, 

Somewhere only we know

“Only if you say it first.”

Somewhere only we know

~ Fin.

If you made it this far, thank you and I love you. I hope reading this isn't time wasted. Also, drink some water and remember how valued you are and how nothing will be as magnificent as they are if you weren't here. ♥

~ Duch ♥