#adventures in a clown's dreams

[somedaytakethetime]

You know how sometimes you just feel like doing something? Or.. you know when you want to scream about something to someone but you have no one willing to listen because it's the 38th million time that you've said the same thing and they're tired of you? Well, I'm sure you do. So... yeah...

Notes and warnings: hm...... well.... 🚨🖐🏻⭕🔞🛑⛔.. does that work? It's another nasty one.. because.. reasons.. hm.. I hope you love eye contact and... 😙🙀.. and... 👇🏻✌🏻👆🏻🙀... and... more... there you have it... it's not gonna be much, you know? It's not even honest work, let's be real...

Word count: 2 343 words

"Should we even be here??" his lips only give you about three seconds to rush that out before they're back on yours. Smirking deeply, hands all over your body, he pulls back and says, in his low sexy voice, "Sweetheart..." it's so condescending yet so fond, "Ask me if I give a fuck.", his eyes are darker than usual, there's this aura of deep.. testosterone all over him. You don't need to ask. You know he doesn't give a single fuck. He never does. It doesn't matter what it is, he always sets out his own path. Does things his own way, doesn't care for rules or right and wrong. He decides what's right and wrong. And it's intoxicating. To follow someone that's so self assured, so confident, someone that doesn't care either or not it's okay to drag his girl down a hallway to the first empty corner that he finds because he wants alone time and he wants it now. He kisses you again, the conversation is over. There's no need for it, he wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't know it's completely isolated. He would have also never dragged you away from the party if he didn't know you want it too. He has this knack... this eerie talent of knowing you so well. Of knowing what you're feeling without a single word. He looks at you, sizes you up, observes you all the time, and he knows exactly what you're thinking. As if he can read your thoughts. It's almost creepy actually, but.. in a way it's really hot too. Like he is. He makes you so desperate even with just proximity. His lips burn marks into your skin as he kisses a path down your neck, hands pulling and tugging at your clothes to get where he wants to go. There's a commotion far in the distance, everyone celebrating the good results, but he couldn't care less right now. He's focused on the task at hand, smirks harder against your skin as his fingers slip into your jeans, inside your panties, and find you embarrassingly wet already. He lifts his head, he smirks like the devil himself, his eyes bright and piercing, "All of this for me, baby?" and you whine softly. You nod and whisper, a little embarrassed, "Yes, daddy." and his smirk grows. He's not one to admit that he likes the pet name, but he doesn't need to, the way he gets smug is enough of an answer. He's so smug constantly.. but even more so when his fingers sink inside you, curl and press against you, making you moan and tilt your hips towards him to push down against his hand. His eyes are fixated on yours, he doesn't say a word, just looks cocky as he moves. His hand twists and he somehow finds a way to cram it into your clothes, presses his thumb against your clit, tracing teasing circles, as he fingers you slowly. "Fucki- please.." is needy and whispery, your hands pull at his hair to get him closer, you rut against him and try to speed up. Everything feels overly sensitive and too hot. His body looms over you, cages you to the wall, the smirk drops and his gaze turns intense. Watches your face twisting with need and desperation, revels in the whines you try to keep inside but fail at times. Enjoys how it feels when you clench around his fingers, dripping all over his hand, begging for him to speed up. He won't. You don't have enough time but does it matter to him? Not at all. He only follows his rules anyway..

His eyes are on you. You can't even see him right now but you feel it. He's somewhere around, far away, there's dozens of people here and you're lost in the crowd, chatting with a friend that struck up conversation with you. And you can feel him looking at you. His presence is something you feel deeply all the time, you always find it's nearly ridiculous. 'This man had to put a hex on me, it's impossible to be this obsessed with a man..' it's not the first time it pops into your head, and every time it does it makes you want to laugh. Because it almost feels true. He's just a man, he can't be special, but somehow.. deep in your soul, you're entirely hooked on this one. Thoughts of him consume you day and night. His touches burn into your skin for hours. His kisses make your lips tingle just thinking about them. His.. you shiver and try to focus on the conversation happening, "Are you cold?" you shake your head, about to answer, when a strong hand suddenly wraps around your waist possessively, "She's always cold. But that's why she got me." he winks at his friend and leans down to whisper in your ear "Come with me.". Your face burns immediately, it doesn't matter how often he does this, doesn't matter how comfortable you are with him, nothing matters. When he wants to drag you away for some nefarious reason, your face always burns. With embarrassment. And excitement. His friend just smiles and turns to chat with someone else, as the same strong hand on your waist turns you around and leads you down an empty path. You end up at some storage closet this time. "How do you know about all of these places?? You know that's suspicious, right?" because it's starting to get alarming how he always knows where the empty, hidden spots are.. if you didn't trust him so deeply, if you didn't know his character so well, you'd start to wonder if he brings others to the same places. But he would never do that, he doesn't care about anyone else. It's.. flattering. Intoxicating too. How he's oblivious, flat out ignores other women. No matter what they look like or if they pay him attention. He just ignores them. His eyes only ever find you. The way they do now, intense and piercing, as he slowly kneels in front of you. "I like this dress.." his fingers are stroking the hem softly, yet his eyes won't move from yours. "Thank y-" his hands lift up the fabric, he twists it and tucks it up, into your waistband, as he pulls down your panties with his other hand. A soft, broken sound escapes your lips as your legs tremble slightly. Watching him lift one of your thighs, lips planting kisses on the tender skin, as he makes his path closer to your core, eyes still burning into you.. he nearly has you in tears. He has such a power over you, it's insane. At times you nearly hate him for how strongly he makes you feel about some guy, but that's all forgotten when his tongue darts out. You watch it, ever so slowly, making it's way to your soft, wet skin. Licking up the slickness already dripping out of you, mouth attaching to your body, said tongue making it's way inside to taste you deeper. Eyes still looking into yours, relentless, burning into your soul. He never looks away. Not just because he wants to see you as you whine, shake, fall apart.. but because he wants you to see him.

His eyes are always so intense, but especially during intimate moments. You get flashes of them all the time. His piercing gaze locked with yours. Always burning into you. As his fingers sink into your body, his tongue swirls around your clit, as his cock sinks deeper into you, as everything happens between you, every time. You've had so much sex.. fucked in pretty much every empty and secluded space he can find when the mood strikes you both.. tried so many positions but he loves being able to look into your eyes. He enjoys having you in any way, shape and form, but his favourite positions are always when he can look at you. He's made you addicted to eye contact. Sex isn't the same anymore if you can't see him looking at you, eyes burning with a possessive need you've never experienced before, etching his mark into your soul. You would never be one to want to be fucked in front of a mirror, too many insecurities for that, but.. with him behind you? Looking at you like that? Like he wants you, body and soul, wants to melt your bodies together so he never has to be apart from you? You don't care if you're in the mirror too, all you see is him. He pushes even deeper, adds to the arch in your back, makes you cling harder to the mirror for support. The broken whine you let out brings a grunted sound from him, his hand moves from digging bruises into your hip to snake up your front. Up up up, it makes it's way to your throat and wraps around it softly. Presses you even harder to his body, thrusts into you so deep your eyes go hazy and blurry. You can somehow still see him looking at you, heated gaze still locked on you. He nuzzles your ear, eyes never leaving their spot, his voice is low and rough, "You're mine, you know? You're all mine. And you look so fucking good right now.." his grip around your throat tightens slightly as his hips speed up, the hand on your hips moves down between your legs, circles your clit and makes your knees tremble. Your hands move from the mirror to cling to his forearms, desperate for support because your body is crumbling. There's a pleased rumble in his chest when you whine and clench harder, a nearly animalistic sound, and you feel dizzy. You're desperate to close your eyes, the dizzy pleasure getting to much to even see straight, but you'd never dare look away from him. His all-consuming eye contact is the best part of the experience after all.

"I love you so much, fucking hell." his forehead is pressed to yours, eyes locked as always, you're bunched in on yourself. You don't understand how you always end up this way... you were cooking dinner. Now you're half on the counter, half off, one leg tightly wrapped around him, the other dangling from the counter and desperately trying to stay put, one hand firmly gripping the countertop to keep from slipping, not that he'd ever let you, the other tangled in his hair in a painful pull. But he'll never complain, he enjoys feeling you do it even. It makes his scalp tingle, makes him feel as desperately wanted as he wants you. You're pressed so tightly, cramped together even if there's so much space around, but you want it this way. Want to feel him trying to crawl his way into your body.. more than it already is.. want to feel your lungs burning and struggling to take full breaths because he's so intense. Even with slow thrusts, he's too overpowering. His hands burn against your skin as they move around your body, like greedy snakes, trying to touch everywhere. Playing with your nipples, finding your overly sensitive clit, squeezing your hips, digging into the flesh of your butt.. teasing.. strong.. possessive. He grunts again, his voice is so low, so rough, tears burn in your eyes from how horny you are, how desperate you get for this man, "I really fucking love, fuck." he won't stop saying it. It's electrifying. Need grows stronger and stronger inside you, you're whiny, so whiny. On the verge of crumbling like a house of cards, you're irreversibly in love with this man. There is no other one for you. No other person could ever make you feel what you feel for him. He's.. "Fucking hell.. please, fuck, let me come.." he's everything. Overbearing at times with his need to keep you safe and protected, possessive and jealous in his fear to lose you because you mean the world to him, blindly supportive and encouraging of everything you set out to do.. revering and worshipful in his love and devotion for you... you've never been loved the way he loves you, and it's so addictive. It makes you love him deeper, want him harder and more desperately, and in turn it makes his feelings stronger too. Your energies feed off of each other like a Möbius strip, impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. You bite his lip when he kisses you, a nearly savage energy overtaking you, and he grunts but kisses you even harder, moves deeper, faster, makes your head spin. Your eyes open to find his burning into you, like always, and it slips from you so soft.. so easily.. "Daddy.." and he knows what you want, what you need, what you're asking for. Doubles his efforts, his body rocks yours, something shakes at the other end of the island unit and it's such a show of strength.. unrestrained male energy.. the testosterone that drips from him at times.. this is man that can be so subdued and calm, yet purely man in a way that's protective and comforting... makes you feel so deeply desired, so profoundly loved. You want to close your eyes as you fall apart but can't find it in yourself to stop looking at his, all the devotion he feels so painfully clear in his infatuated gaze.. he presses his forehead even further to yours, crumbles you in on yourself deeper, fucks you through the shakes that overtake you and follows you right down the abyss. He kisses you in a way that's all consuming, swallows your whines and presses his grunts into your soul too, holds you tightly until you feel you're a part of him, as you get completely lost together. Somewhere in the distance the pot is boiling over and making a mess of the stove top but neither notices, and quite frankly, in the state you're currently in? Neither would care.

[4ddi3addie2005]

Before I went to bed I saw the Youtube notif that TADC was going to Netflix and it INVADED my dreams so vividly I have not had such an episodic sequential serialized cohesive dream in months it was literally its own chapter its own short story

[twinkle-twink]

꒰ঌ 𝕀 𝕟 𝕥 𝕣 𝕠 𝕕 𝕦 𝕔 𝕥 𝕚 𝕠 𝕟 ໒꒱

καλώς ήρθατε στο blog μου! My name is Achilles (chosen name), and this is my age dreaming blog (both for me to agedre and to talk about age dreaming)

This is a purely kid friendly environment, so no being weird or inappropriate, thank you

Here's a few things about this blog:

𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘 ?

You can call me Achilles, I'm a 6-10 years old age dreamer

I am an adult, however this blog is strictly kid friendly. This is my safe corner of the Internet, and I'd like for it to be respected

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𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘 ?

I'm a transgender man, I never got to experience a typical "masculine" childhood. Age dreaming is my way of coping with this, and give myself the childhood I wish I could have had (which doesn't mean I buy into gender stereotypes at all, I like pink, frills etc.)

There are many reasons why a person would want to go back to an earlier stage of life (whether or not this includes getting back in the mindset too), mine is only one of so many. The important thing is that, this is therapeutic for me, and I hope this blog can help others as well

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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥 ?

All sorts of things! Reblogs, headcanons, banners, userboxes, moodboards, agedre advice, pictures and discussions of my collections, maybe some art... The possibilities are endless, but I'll feature my main tags on my home page (tags will be added as time goes), and at the end of this post

As for what I'm currently into, here's a (non-exhaustive) list:

Adventure Time (all content except Fionna and Cake)

Bluey

Clowns (doll + plush collection)

Furbies

Hilda

HTTYD (movies only)

Nostalgia content

PMMM (all content)

Pokemon (all content)

Sailor Moon (all content)

Tamagotchis

TOH

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𝔹𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

DM: OPEN

Banner request: OPEN

Userbox request: OPEN

Moodboard request: OPEN

DNI: kink/age play, NSFW, pro shippers and anti agere

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[clownkiwi]

itft 8:00 was peak

[theropoda]

there are actually more than a few songs i wish i could mash up together i just don't have the technical know how. sad

[endomentendo]

Hello! Goodbye! And welcome to-

From the popular indie show “the amazing digital circus” crossing with the classics from Lewis Carroll “Alice Adventures in Wonderland”

Pomni after chasing a white clown, falls into an old computer that transports her into a digital realm of wacky nonsense and comedic irony. Meeting characters of all sorts, always finding herself in a new situation that’ll leave her second guessing if up is left and right is backwards.

Cast lineup & character bios

(Main cast only ‘for now’)

Come join Wonderland! (Bio card template)

Questions and boundaries

1.Can I ship any characters?: Boyo, go crazy! As long you’re safe and respectful, then set sail.

2. Are any of the characters (besides Pomni) human?: All the characters are ai, even the main cast from the series. But headcannon away cause if it keeps you guessing, then it’s alright.

3. Can I make nsfw art?: YES! Please send them to me by @ me. Please be careful and respectful and don’t go too far in the phalic side. Stay safe ;3

4. May I make fanart/fics/collabs/animations/ect?: I think you can answer that :D

5. Why is a raven like a writing desk?: I haven’t the slightest idea!

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Comics: in a episodic order

Through the looking screen

She forgot how food works

The garden of gloinks

Taking advice from a Mix-a-pillar

Taking directions from a rabbit pt1. Pt2.

Mustard?

Comedy and tragedy

NOTHING? WHATEVER?

Bound in madness Tim burton

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Doodles

the first digital wonderland content

Kinger as the dodo and Pomni

Can you stand on your head?

zooble and kaufmo doodle

Spark of inspiration for gangle

sun and moon doodledum

of stones and stars!

does C&A mean Gay?

poster in progress say hi to Dave for me ;3

oysters in progress?

The red head got people red ;D

The red means they’re in love

Crossover? In wonderland?

SHE DID WHAT?!

Queenie and Kinger’s old designs

The rabbit has stolen a bow tie

A book page bio

old bio design

older bio design

Showtime

Pomni borger

Loolilau as the duchess

Zombni and Wonderland Pomni are besties @etanow

Abstract Bandersnatch?

Ragatha’s background?

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Paintings

Fallen down the Digital rabbit hole

Official poster: outdated

We’ll meet in the palace of dreams

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EXPLORE WONDERLAND!

-The mad Tea Party

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere self-aware Jason Todd—not as unhinged and violent as you'd think

cw(s): Jason's trauma and unhealthy coping/attachment

Yandere Jason Todd first met you when he was simply a strong-headed, innocent Robin. He was incredibly curious and happy to have a friend who was with him throughout all of his adventures. He didn't know if you were a god or simply a delusion. So he just called you his imaginary friend. Whenever someone caught him talking to himself, he'd just say that he was spending time with his friend.

Yandere Jason Todd who became obsessed with you during his time with the Joker. It was the only way he was able to maintain a shred of sanity. He knew that this was real to him, and to some extent, this was real to you. So he'd watch your expressions and listen to your worried words. It felt like you were protecting his soul from being fully corrupted by the batshit crazy party clown. 

Yandere Jason Todd still treated you as his friend when he was revived. He writhed in pain and called out your name, something he learned when you were talking to one of your 'friends'. Friends? No, he was your friend. You've been together since the beginning. That one was just fake. They wanted to hurt you. He needed to save you, but he was stuck here with burning lungs and blurry vision.

Yandere Jason Todd feels so vulnerable in front of you. All of the cruel things he has done, and you still stick with him. He's afraid that you truly are a delusion. If you are, he doesn't want you to ever go away. He hates it, but he loves it so much more. He can't help but look up at you and ask if you forgive him. It's so pathetic. He knows it is. He just can't let you leave, ever. 

Yandere Jason Todd hopes that he can have a family with you someday. He doesn't exactly have Bruce or anyone else. He fucked up all of his romantic relationships. He looks even more fucked up. He's so unlovable, and yet you look at him in a way no one ever has. 

The family doesn't need to be big. It can just be you and him. You can have pets or children. Jason would probably suck with both, but you can teach him!

It keeps him up at night—this dream, this fantasy of his. It keeps the traumatic demons from overtaking his mind and sending him into CPTSD flashbacks accompanied by panic attacks and destructive, violent fits. 

Yandere Jason Todd who is done with this bullshit. You have rescurrections, time travel, and gadgets that look like they could only exist in sci-fi. They have all of this, and he still can't find a way to get to you! 

Yandere Jason Todd proposes from within his world. He begs you to accept him as he is. He spills his heart out. It's his last chance at happiness. He can't not take it. The real question is, do you accept? Are you willing to face the consequences of accepting or rejecting him?

[trinketstar]

The Amazing Toybox Circus!

A storybook - Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.

An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.

Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.

...

Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.

This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.

Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.

She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.

Timidly, she called out-

"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"

An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.

The sight was positively terrifying.

"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"

"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.

"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.

"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"

He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.

The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!

"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"

"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"

The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...

So despite better judgement, she finally said -

Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.

"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.

Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.

"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.

What an odd place this was...

----part 2 coming soon!

[msfantasy-anime]

Buggy’s Daughter Is a Master of Disguise!

Vinsmoke. Sanji x Reader

Request: A If it's not too much trouble, could you write a oneshot about a fem! reader who's a Strawhat Pirate and disguised herself as a man to try and fly under the Marine's radar since she's the daughter of a well known pirate. [Maybe Crocodile or Buggy] & she has a very high bounty so she disguises herself and she has feelings for Sanji but doesn't act on them because of her disguise. The crew/Sanji could find out her true identity during Enies Lobby since CP9 have orders to take her in as well since the World Gov. has found out her identity!

A/n: I hadn’t looked at my inbox in so long I’m sorry to keep you waiting! I have been obsessively writing stories on an account for OC fantasy and been neglecting my comic and anime accounts. I did take creative liberties on the ‘finding out’ part since … I don’t like Enies Lobby (SORRY- I’m not sorry that arch sucks)

You will never forget the day Luffy asked you to join his crew.

The circus show that was your life had long since lost its appeal.

The over the top stages, smothered under yards of gaudy fabrics, where the stage lighting flicked through every colour of the rainbow until the bright spot light would land on you— the starting act to the main event being your father, Buggy the Clown. Always dressed together in ridiculous costumes ready to perform any act whether it be slapstick, comedy, dance, song, acrobats or stunts. Name any, you’ve done it.

Oh and how you loved it. Entertaining the crew until their belly ached from laughing or tears from a heart touching performance. To leave everyone buzzing for days after a good show— there was no greater high than that. Your father was certainly proud of you for it.

Your fun-loving father, would tuck you into bed as he spoke of dreams of unforeseen riches and absolute power, to become the king of the pirates! And you couldn’t think of a better man than your own father. But that was before the years carried on with little to no progress on his dream, festering bitterness, rage and resentment to surfaced.

With your father becoming emotionally unavailable, you turned to the stage, engrossing yourself to the craft of entertainment until your father began using your sacred stage to indulge his sadistic whims. What was once a place of laughter and spectacle became a theater of cruelty—innocent villagers forced into the spotlight, their suffering turned into a grotesque performance. He would howl with laughter as panic and despair bloomed in their eyes, delighting in their futile struggles. And they would look at you, their gazes burning with desperation, silently pleading—for mercy, for freedom, for their children to be spared.

You missed entertaining the crew upon the high seas, where the sea salt air would glide through your hair, as you perform a one of a kind show; where each town was an opportunity to explore and adventure to your hearts content. When exactly did that all stop?

One day it all just became too much. Abandoning your craft you turned your back to the stage— resigning yourself to being nothing more than a pirate with an enormous bounty of your head.

You’ve witness too much, done too much and done nothing at all to prevent the cruelties your father inflicted.

Standing amidst yet another crumbling town. You anticipated the familiar chorus of cries and screams of those who’ve lost everything. Another destroyed home reduced to a pile of rubble, framed photos sticking out amongst the broken bricks to further emphasise stolen spaces dedicated to families. It was a scene you’ve witnessed countless times before.

But this time, something was different.

The villagers weren’t crying. They were screaming and cheering on the straw hat pirates who are fighting in high spirits, cursing buggy and crying for those who’ve lost everything.

What new low have you reached where even other pirates are disgusted and looking down upon you and the crew for their cruelty?

Your stomach twists painfully, feeling utterly disgusted with yourself.

You hated it.

Hated what the stage had become.

Hated what it represented.

Hated who you became.

You don’t want to be you anymore, you want to be someone else. Someone who wasn’t the daughter of a cruel pirate with a massive bounty— you want to be a pirate, like Luffy. Who laughs and has fun, but never at the expense of others.

“SHUT UP AND JOIN MY CREW ALREADY!” Luffy would scream in your face mid-fight. Excuse after excuse you threw at Luffy but he was done listening. “ACCEPT IT- BE WHOEVER YOU WANT TO BE!”

That moment changed your life forever.

Luffy didn’t care what you had done- he liked you, and wanted you on the crew.

No excuses.

You didn’t have to be part of your father’s crew. If you wanted to be someone else— you could.

The stage taught you that better than anything.

So when you stepped aboard the ship Nami stole; you decided to leave that version of you behind in Orange town.

“You’re Y/n right?” Zoro would ask.

“Jester— I’m here to entertain the king.” You say, pointing towards Luffy who’s beaming a massive toothy smile. “From now on I’m not Y/n. I’m not Buggy’s daughter - I’m Jester, a straw hat pirate.” You state boldly, placing a mask upon your face.

It would be the last time you ever showed it.

“Ya’know, any decent bounty hunter can tell who you are. Even with the mask, your voice is the same, you dress the same and your blue hair is obvious. With your bounty, there are hunters that have studied you endlessly. If you actually want to be unrecognisable— you should change everything.”

“Shut up Zoro! I like Y/n the way they are!” Luffy would scold, pressing his vein popping forehead against Zoros own.

“I want to leave that part of me behind Captain— if I’m becoming a strawhat, i want my bounty to be under your name, not my dads.”

“Oh yeah— okay.” Luffy relents instantly, picking his ear as he withdraws from the discussion to sit where the sea breeze is strongest.

So you did, transforming yourself into Jester, you’re greatest disguise.

This was all before Sanji of course.

If you had known you’d might’ve gone for a feminine disguise…. Maybe then he would finally see you and not Jester— his best friend.

When Sanji first joined, you were honestly relieved he didn’t know you were a woman—especially after seeing the way he fell apart like a lovesick fool around any pretty girl.

And yet, despite all of that, there was an undeniable spark of bro-mance between you two.

It was effortless. You didn’t need words to understand each other; you could read his mind just as easily as he could finish your sentences. That bond had been forged through countless days and nights side by side—challenging him with bizarre ingredient combinations, serving as his trusted taste tester, or fighting together with an unspoken understanding that you always had each other’s backs.

There were too many memories to count—drinking, partying, eating, talking, exploring. You were the brother he never had. Someone to laugh with, someone to exchange sharp-witted insults with, someone to tease when he inevitably spiraled into his love-struck antics.

A Bro-mance through and through.

All until after the two years apart— where you returned and Sanji was just… different.

He continued to treat you with the same energy, but you struggled to keep yourself together. Feeling the inkling tenderness surfacing. A warmth for him you hadn’t felt prior.

My god— did Zoro grin pull at his lips when he caught a glimpse of your affectionate eyes lingering a little too long.

Never less you sallowed down your feelings, unwilling to allow your identity to resurface.

You love being Jester.

That’s who you are.

The afternoon sun glows a golden light on the horizon as it dips lower into the ocean. Most of the boys were on the main deck enjoying the peaceful bliss of the open sky.

Luffy lays on the deck grass, his hat loosely placed upon his face.

Zoros back leaning against the main mast, watching Chopper and Usopp fish, all whilst you and Sanji chatter up a storm as per usual.

“My sensors must be broken— I can always sense a beautiful woman when I’m near you,” Sanji says, placing a cigarette in his mouth, holding a flame to the end.

Your shoulders tense up at Sanji’s statement- unsure where to take it from there.

Usopp grumbles, not fully listening to Sanji’s nonsense as he leans the line behind him, whipping the rod forward, casting out his fishing line and watching the weight sink below the crisp blue sea water. Zoro raises a knowing brow to you, as your eyes silently scream at Zoro to turn his smug face away. “That’s kinda creepy —“ Usopp quips.

“Must be because Jesters my ultimate wingman.” Sanji cheers, throwing his arms around your shoulder.

“Yeah, Jester is definitely helping you with that.” The barking laughter that followed from Zoro made you stare silent daggers back at him.

Leaning back, you cause Sanji’s arm hanging on your shoulder to tilt down, his fingers grazing your bound chest, his hand twitches at the odd sensation.

You spring from your place under his arm, attempting to hide your flinch as jovial jumping as you bound away from Sanji.

“I might hit the showers!” You announce suddenly, dashing away from the conversation.

Chopper stares at Sanji— confused with Sanji’s earlier statement.

“Just out of curiosity—” Chopper asks tilting his head to the side. “Why won’t you flirt with Jester like you do with other ladies?”

“Huh?” Sanji cranes his neck, trying to make sense of Choppers question.

“Because Jesters the only girl you haven’t —“

“Chopper. That’s enough.” Zoro says, his stern face makes Choppers mouth clamp shut instantly. Feeling as though he said something he shouldn’t.

The damage was already done. Choppers words circulated Sanji’s brain until realisation dawned upon him in real time.

The bound chest.

The monthly tummy aches.

You always disappearing whenever a bathhouse is around— but he just figured with you being popular with the ladies since he always sees Nami or Robin pulling you along with them when they think he’s not watching…

Oh god…

“YOURE TELLING ME JESTERS A GIRL?!” Sanji just about squeals, his cigarette falling from his lips.

“Yeah what about it?” Luffy murmurs, sliding his hat away from his face.

Sanji storms over, grabbing Luffy by the collar.

“You’re telling me you knew?!” Sanji sputters, desperate to hear Luffy sound just as confused as he felt, but Luffy just stared back up at him casually.

“Of course I knew — I’m the captain.” He says calmly, pulling Sanji’s clenched fingers off his vest.

“What about you? You don’t look surprised.” Sanji accuses Zoro, shoving a unwarranted finger to his chest.

“I was the first mate remember? Jester came after me, we picked her up in Orange Town.” Zoro answers calmly, slapping his hand away.

“Does that mean Nami knows?” Sanji asks, desperately seeking out another who may have also been kept in the dark.

“Oh course— she was there.” Zoro grumbled in annoyance at swirly brows high pitched breakdown.

Sanji spins around to Usopp. “You.” He says angrily, making Usopp gulp. “Why aren’t you freaking out.”

Usopp stares off to the side, reluctantly answering. “Well… I didn’t know Jester was— but you know… I thought… I walked in on her taking a bath and” Sanji took a step back, not wanting to hear the rest.

“Listen swirly brow, save your breath. You’re the last to know— now get over it. Jester doesn’t want to make it into a big deal.”

He felt betrayed, seemingly everyone knew except Sanji.

I guess the clowns out of the box now.

How the hell could Sanji have guessed? You’re the master or disguise. The best theatrical performer, fit to entertain the king of the pirates.

He turns on his heel, storming towards your private room which even you didn’t let him into.

Approaching the door he slams it open, making you jump up at the sudden ruckus. Your head instinctively snapping towards the source of noise.

Your clear feminine face in view without a Jesters mask to shield you.

Sanji’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. Your hair which is typically tied up and hidden away is free flowing out, your baggy clothes now tossed to the side as you were half dressed, your distinctive feminine chest unbounded, your waist dipping deeper than a man’s should and your hips wider than what a man’s should be.

You’re fully clothed, but Sanji feels embarrassed to suddenly see so much more of you than he expected.

“How could you not tell me?” Sanji accuses, his furrowed brows and his eyes remain downcast. His hands clenching to fists in his pockets. “I—“ Sanji’s voice wavers. “Suppose that our friendship was one sided.” He turns his back, walking away from you, retreating to the sanctity that was his kitchen.

It might not have been a fair statement.

And Sanji knows that every woman has her secrets— but you’re different.

You’re his best friend.

How can his friendship with you return to what it was?

“Wait Sanji!” You yell out, making him pause in his step, but he doesn’t dare to look at you. Your usual deep gravely voice is lighter and airy making his heart clench in betrayal— not even knowing what your real voice sounded like. “I’m sorry— I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defend, but Sanji didn’t move.

“I thought we were friends.” He states making you scoff.

“Of course we’re friends!”

“But we’re not! You know everything about me, but until today, I never realised you were a stranger!” You physically step back as if his words lashed you like a whip.

“Sanji—“

“Jester—“ He says your name through gritted teeth, like the words burned the inside of his mouth.

“I don’t even know your name.” He says, starring at the floor in anger. More so with himself than with you. How can two people spend this much time together and he didn’t even ask you more, to ask the right questions. Why didn’t you tell him? “Just … forget it.”

“My name is Y/n.” You say. And it was like music to his ears, the way your name sounded rolling off your tongue. “I’m the daughter of Buggy the clown.” He stiffens at your admission, his eyes growing wider. “I wanted to escape myself— start a new under a captain who deserved my loyalty and not because I’m a relative.” You say, grabbing Sanji’s arm, forcing him to face you. “I hated who I was, I hated what I witnessed and hated what I didn’t do. Captain was against it but respected my wishes— I wanted to start anew, and so I did.” You say, Sanji now facing you. “It’s not that I wanted to keep you in the dark. I just liked that you didn’t see my ugly truth.” You whisper, tears brimming your eyes.

Sanji felt like a total moron, making a woman cry.

Without another word, he pulls you into a proper hug, holding you tight as silent tears fell.

“I’m sorry— I’m an idiot.” He whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Sanji?” Nami asks as she approaches the boys lounging about the deck.

“He found out.” Luffy says, standing up and attempting to walk off without another word.

Nami gasped loudly, grabbing Luffy by the vest and shaking him aggressively. “YOU MORON! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CLIFFHANGER FOR YEARS AND I MISSED IT!” Nami cries dramatically. Luffy groans, his head spinning.

“Why does everyone keep doing this!” He groans again.

“Relax— he’s only just found out. This ‘will they- won’t they’ crap takes longer.” Zoro mumbles.

[paarthursass]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character? (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed?  What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner) 

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

How do they advise the player character on Raphael?

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character?

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them?

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently?

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with? 

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin?  How is Orin's deception revealed?  How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn?

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer?  Can they offer to become one themselves?  Does their reaction change if they’re romanced? 

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira?

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2?

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them?

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test? 

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin?

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor?  Haarlep?

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no?

What are Tav’s plans for the future?  Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

[somedaytakethetime]

I've had all these snippets of images in my head and I don't know what to do with them.. so I figured I could turn it into some type of writing. There's no discerning details that give any certain person away, so if you read it, in can be about just about anyone you fancy and feel would fit this. Of course, you know who I am picturing but.. that's details 😶 Warning: NO KIDS! DON'T MAKE ME PUT YOU BABIES ON THE NAUGHTY STEP! This isn't even like.. proper dirty or anything, but there's heavy implications and small touches of intimacy and elicit activities, some words that may be heavier than others if you know what I mean.., and I don't want the children to think dirty thoughts 😤 Word count: 5 283 words to be exact, I ramble..

Your hand rises and falls slowly with the pattern of his breathing. It lays on his naked chest, you lay on his naked body, his arms wrapped around you and rubbing your back softly. You watch the shadows on the rug, the same one you're both laying on, cast by the sun as it slowly sets in the window behind your heads. As you try to catch your breath and feel him do the same, you're still wondering how you ended up here.

His eyes are beautiful. That's the first thing you notice as he smiles politely at you and cordially shakes your hand when you're introduced. He repeats the name your superior just said to you, his voices is lower and more sensual than you expected and a small shiver runs through you, you pray you won't stutter and repeat your name back at him. He pulls back and you feel his hand still grasping yours, even as you're introduced to the rest of the bunch. Even as you try to stand as straight as possible beside your new employer, you still feel his hand in yours, his eyes on you, as they'd been just a few minutes ago. You never expected to be here, hired to work at this club, you didn't expect you'd be so close to them either, you thought you would have some small position and do meaningless little tasks. You're nervous, your heart skips beats at times, you're afraid to mess this up, to end up looking foolish in front of so many people, and... you're afraid of the way you can still feel his hand on yours.. his eyes burning into you from across the way.

You should probably get up and leave. Or at least get up and lay on the couch, the rug is soft and warm but it's still a little.. awkward to be laying naked, pressed to him, on his rug like this. His eyes are closed and you wonder if he fell asleep, you try to move away and you find out that he hasn't. His arms tighten around you immediately and he opens his eyes slowly, his voice sounds.. god, his voice, the things he says.. he's so attractive but the way he sounds and speaks, you feel shivers thinking about the things he's said to you before.. even tonight.. you refocus on his voice as he says, soft and low, in that effortless sensual tone that's natural to him, "Where do you think you're going?", a smirk lifts the corners of his lips softly and you hide your face against his chest, suddenly warm all over again and needing.. so much all at once.. you muffle into his skin "I thought I'd get on the couch.." and he nods "Not comfortable here? I should have probably taken you to bed.. I do have one, and it's incredibly comfortable.." he lowers his voice and a shiver runs down your spine again, he's trying to get a rise out of you and he doesn't need to. Everything about him turns you on, you've never been so attracted to anyone before. You part your lips to speak but he doesn't give you the chance. He lifts himself up, takes you with him, somehow through some testosterone-induced display of strength he gets you both up from the floor, carrying you in his arms, without even wobbling once. He looks down at you and his smirk looks devious now, "Shall I show you my bed then?"

Working here isn't as difficult as you'd expected it would be. But it's also not as easy as you'd expected either. You have good days, and bad days. The problem is that the bad days are more frequent. Through no fault of your own, that's just the way things are here. Too many egos, too much testosterone, too many strong personalities. It all leads to arguments, to misunderstandings, to being yelled at and lashed out towards. You're often apologised to, after they've calmed down, asked for forgiveness and told that you've done nothing wrong, they're just all under a lot of pressure and stress. And.. you'd let that slip.. if it wasn't happening constantly, that is. Because none of them know how to control their shitty attitudes and it grates on your nerves. You keep your head down, stay silent, this is a well paying job and you don't want to lose it. Especially not over these assholes and their arrogance. Your superior is nice, that's all that matters because he's the one that you need to spend the most time with, the rest of them can go to hell. The rest of them… except… him. He's kind to you. Incredibly kind even. Has gotten into arguments with others over you. Over the way he watched them talk to you, over the things they've said to you. He doesn't have to get into trouble because of you, you've told him every time, and he just smirks, defiant, like he was made to fight and contradict, "And what? Pass up the opportunity to remind them of their place?" and you start to realise that this man has far more layers than you know of. He's.. hard to figure out. He's quiet, rarely ever speaks unless spoken to, he's also clearly a loner. He'll interact with his teammates when needed, praise them and laugh with them when he's in the thick of training, but outside of that he retreats back into himself. Stands off to the side. Observing everyone. Silently judging them. Silently judging you too..

His bed is indeed comfortable, just as he said it was. The sheets are soft, the pillows smell like him. You love the way he smells, it's so.. rough? woodsy?.. it's manly. You're don't care for logistics that small, but the only way to describe his scent, and even the underlying feeling he gives off, is that. Manly. He has tenderness too, that he's displaying right now as he softly traces your naked body like you're porcelain, placing gentle kisses everywhere, treating you like something fragile and beautiful to be treasured, driving you to the brink of madness with his slow motions. But there's a biting edge to him. You always know that this man, who appears so calm and controlled, will lose his mind in roughly .5 seconds and fight someone if his anger gets the best of him. And you'd be lying if you said that you don't find it attractive. How controlled he is. A stronger personality simmering under the surface of all that control and calmness. Which is too calm at times.. like right now. He's kissed a path up and down your thighs five times and you're about to pull all that glorious hair out of his head if he doesn't do something more than tease you.. "Will you be there all night? Didn't you promise to show me something? Something along the lines of what talents that tongue has that go beyond defying people?". his hands look massive as they snake around your thighs, he pulls you down closer to him suddenly and a squeak flies out of you, the devious smirk, ever so present on those perfect lips whenever he's around you, is back "I like it when you're sassy, baby.. it makes it even better when you start moaning incoherently for me."

A sob slips out of your lips and you try harder to keep it quiet. This is the final drop. You're tired of being yelled at by assholes, sure, but this is worse. You weren't hired to be harassed, if these bastards don't know how to behave that's their problem. You feel anger, a strong and heavy feeling in your chest pooling like black liquid, and you ball up your firsts. You slam them against the wall behind you and you want to scream. You want to go back and slap him, but you're not allowed, even if he was disgusting. The images keep replaying in your head, you're trying to do your job and gather their information to update their data, keeping quiet, head down as usual, asking personal questions in the most formal and detached manner that you can and that oaf.. the big one. You never liked that one from the time you were introduced. He smiled at you like such a sleaze.. you've been revolted by his presence ever since and you avoid him like the plague that he is. But.. you had to do your job. You had to ask questions because of these stupid sheets. Personal, medical, technical, all for the database of their information to be updated.. and he had to try and be funny… he had to try and flirt again, no matter how hard you ignore him he does it again. Asking you personal questions that you ignored, commented on your body and how it looked in the loose, long dress you're wearing.. and… he had to start commenting on his body. On his size to be exact. And his capacities as a man. When he cornered you against the table, put that sleazy, disgusting paw on your waist and said so casually "I could show you.. I bet you'd sound really hot screaming my name while I fuck you.." you just lost your composure. You pushed him roughly, you called him disgusting, you told him firmly "I would rather die without sex again than to have sex with you. You're revolting." and you walked out, found the first bathroom you could, and here you are. On the floor. Trying not to disturb anyone as you sob against the corner. You're not sad, you're angry. Angry that you can't retaliate more. Angry that if you were to tell anyone they would just tell you that the guys here are "being playful, you're a pretty girl, pay them no mind. They'll tire of it, I promise." as they've told you before. You're boiling with anger. You're tired of being disrespected. You make a snarled sound as you get up and walk to the sinks. Wash your tears and try to gather your composure. You look like you've been crying, there's nothing to be done about it. You take a deep breath and turn around. He's standing there. Leaning against the wall, right by the door. You didn't hear him come in. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and he looks pissed. "I heard some things that I didn't want to believe.." he's speaking through gritted teeth, you look at him as he pushes away from the wall, walks towards you, looms, "Did he tell you all that shit?" you wonder if you could lie, say that you were just being sensitive and he didn't mean any of that crap, you know what will happen if you confess what just happened to you. You know he will fight the oaf. You can see the fire in his eyes, those beautiful eyes, daring you to lie to him and pretend he can't see the truth. You just exhale and nod slowly, can't look him in the eyes as his anger bubbles over and the loud smack of his fist slams against the countertop. "That motherfucker! Did he hurt you?? He said you were like marshmallow in his hands, did.he.hurt.you?" and your voice sounds angry "No, he didn't! But he had no right to touch me! I don't want random men caging me against desks and groping my waist like I'm just a piece of meat! Tell that bastard that I wasn't anything other than disgusted by him!" and… he was made to fight and defy people. There's the confirmation. The smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. The fire raging in his eyes. The way he says, so casually, "Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to do more than tell him, don't worry." as he turns his back on you and walks out..

He is unfairly good at that. Unfairly good at everything he does really. He can control his body with just as clinical precision as he can control his temper, and it's unfair. You can feel his smirk against the most sensitive part of you, can feel the delight he takes in how easily and quickly you fall apart for him. Because of him. He's relentless, renders you speechless, a mess of whines and moans and pleas, a mess of neediness and aching and pent up frustration needing to be released. He does it on purpose. Slows down and teases you every time you feel your spine start to tingle and sparks appear in your closed eyes. You curse out his name, "Please! What do I need to do for you to stop that and just let me come, god, will you please do something more!?" say frustrated and he has the audacity to laugh. Right against you. Shivers run down your spine and you moan, it rings inside you and it makes you feverish and needy all over again. Your voice gets softer, you're suddenly pliant in his hands again, mewling and begging. He takes pity on you, holds you tighter, presses you down into the mattress and stops teasing you. Watches you the whole time, eyes fixated on your body and how you arch up for him. Because of him. He loves watching you fall apart like this. He's addicted to how you react to him. He's addicted to you. It's been a long time coming, he's still unsure how he managed to get you here tonight, but he's never been more thankful to whatever Gods are out there, watching over him, and helping him along this path. He doesn't falter until you're pushing at his head, lifts up and smirks at you as you open your eyes slowly, still barely able to focus on him, and he places a kiss right where he just made a mess of and laughs at your curses and shivers. He gets up from his place, crawls over your body, cages you against his bed, "So… how was that?". He feels giddy right now, feels like a teenager again, there's something about making a beautiful girl giving into him like that.. but beyond that.. there's something about having you here right now. In his house. On his bed. Under him. Pliant and willing, eager even, to be with him. He's wanted it for a long time, even if you likely have no idea of it, but that's beside the point now. There's other matters to attend to while you're so willing under him. He nuzzles your neck, kisses you slowly, then whispers in your ear "How do you feel about testing out the quality of my mattress?", and he knows it's incredibly cheesy but he's feeling light hearted and happy tonight, and you react by whining and melting further so.. he figures you don't mind it either.

He would say you've been building a budding friendship. Even if he's pretty sure you have no idea of it. Because he's a little.. guarded, if you will. He doesn't trust easily, he doesn't befriend people easily either. He likes his space, his peace, his own ways. He prefers to stand back, watch others, judge and gauge what they're all about. Studies people and tries to gather information before he can make a decision on them, he tries to be impartial, tries to give everyone a fair chance but.. he's also himself. Reserved and slightly stubborn in his ways. He knows what he wants and he knows how to get it, he's never had trouble with his confidence or his own self assuredness. He doesn't feel the need to justify himself to anyone or be a person pleaser. He also doesn't feel the need to make friends at work, not in a deep sense. He's polite to everyone, he'll be playful when there's room for that, and he'll go along with some things from time to time. But he's not here to be best friends with anyone, he's here to work. And he does his job well. So well apparently, that it's created some friction with some others around. So, try as he might to be professional, he doesn't like some of these guys because they don't like him and don't bother hiding it either. But, that said, he does like you. You're quiet too, just as guarded as he is, and you always keep your head down too. He could see from the very beginning that you're here to do your job and get on with it, and he respects that. He doesn't like stereotypes but he's aware that some girls try to get jobs at places like this for reasons that have nothing to do with the job. He doesn't judge that, everyone is after whatever life they want in the end, but he doesn't particularly care for those girls either. Being loved for the potential of what he could give to others in terms of lifestyle isn't something he wants, he just wants to be loved for himself. It's hard to get people to see him, who he is, without all the glitter and the flashes of the lifestyle. Without the fame aspect and the money. He's tried many times before, had loose strings here and there, and they all fell flat. He didn't feel a connection like he needed to, they weren't bad girls, they were funny and kind, but they had expectations from him. They created an image of him in their heads and that's what they were in love with. Not him. Not the simple man that has simple hobbies. The man that would rather cook dinner himself, instead of go out to some fancy restaurant that he'd have to put a suit on for. He's never been able to share himself, his true self, with anyone before without them thinking he was joking. Girls don't often believe how much of a nerd he is, how boring he can actually be, how unexciting he wants his life to be. Because he looks a certain way. And he has a certain reputation too. All of them do, so he understands it's hard to accept that, in the end, he's just a regular man. But he is. And you believe him. He's unsure how and why he felt such a pull to you when he first shook your hand. There was something. Probably in the softness of your eyes, the clear nervousness that clouded your whole being, the way you tried to stand and look so tall and professional but he could see your hands shaking the whole time, could see your cheeks flush pink with shyness whenever someone talked to you. He grew attached to you the more you spend time together. He sought you out, struck up conversations, tried to get to know you. To get you to be comfortable with him. And little by little you were. You built a friendship, that he thinks you're unaware of, and he cherished that. Cherishes the fact that you only laugh with him, only tease him, only feel comfortable around him. He knows that last bit isn't very healthy but.. he feels vindicated, he's selfish and he doesn't care. He likes you, really likes you, and he likes that you like him back. He also.. feels possessive of you.. which is why… he always gets into so much trouble for you..

He's relentless. And you're going to faint. It's just too much. Your whole body is on fire, your senses are all overloaded, you can't even see straight and your breathing is barely enough to fill your lungs with oxygen. But he's relentless, and you are too because even as your head feels fainter and fainter, you want more and more. You need more and more. You need it all. You need him. He feels amazing, he's sturdy and warm over you, he knows just what to do to make you fall apart at the seams, knows exactly how to move to make your whole body curl around him, knows just what to say to have you biting at his shoulder and clawing your nails down his back. He's amazing, he's both gentle and rough, pushes you back and reels you in, keeps you on edge for what feels like hours and drives you insane. When he allows you to fall, it feels so strong, it's so potent, that you all but faint. Barely hanging on to your senses, clinging to him, possibly crying from how good it all feels, you aren't really sure. Your body is a mess of emotions and he kisses you so slowly and tenderly as he falls with you too. Presses his forehead to yours as you both pull back with a need to breathe, keeps you so close and tight to him, melts against you too and wants to never let you go. You're shaking as you come down, you wouldn't be able to move right now from how limp he's rendered you, but also from how constantly you shake. Luckily you don't have to. He pulls away from you slightly, carefully rolls you both sideways and holds you tightly in his arms. One hand cradling your head and petting your hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. He presses tender kisses to your forehead, whispers to you tender words of reassurance that you're okay and he's right there, holding you and keeping you grounded to this earth so you won't float away. You start to calm down, realise that you did cry because you have tears drying on your cheeks and you're almost scared of the power this man has over you. He makes you feel in a way you've never felt before. He pulls at your heart in such a strong way.. you're scared of that feeling. Because you don't know how he feels about you. He's so hard to read, even as he gently tells you that he's not going to leave and that he's right there for you, that he'll take care of you. It's hard to know if he means now, or… you melt against his chest, sigh heavily, remember what happened earlier today. He's suspended for a few days now. After that show, of course he would be, but you didn't mean for it to happen. You've apologised, chastised him, but it didn't make a difference because all he did was laugh.

You're back with your papers at the medical office right where you left them. They let you use this place today for all the crap that you needed to deal with, but someone clearly filled in for you while you were gone. The papers now have a handwriting that you can barely read. 'Does no one teach these men to write properly!?', you think exasperated. It's not the first time that one of your coworkers hands you notes that are barely legible. You exhale angrily, trying to push aside all that's happened today and just focus on getting to the end of your workday. You're trying to decipher what a certain hieroglyph says when you hear a commotion outside. There's a giant windowed door beside you, that leads to the training grounds, and you approach it. A mass of bodies piled in a circle is on the field, there's shouting. Something is happening. You don't think twice, you open the door and rush out. As you get closer you realise what's happening. He's hitting the oaf. They're tangled on the ground, he's overpowered that oaf, and he's punching him. Everyone else all around them is trying to get them to stop, a few have entangled themselves too and you're not sure why. Maybe men just love any excuse to fight each other and they'll break into silly antics as soon as someone else does. One of the older coaches shouts, the head coach is running towards all of you, some of the older players are trying to keep everyone in check and trying to dodge punches too. 'This is a mess..' you think to yourself. You regret telling him, you should have lied. But, god, you can't pretend that you're not pleased seeing him punch that disgusting oaf.. seeing him insult him and argue with him.. trying to defend you and make him pay for how he acted towards you earlier.. you feel so.. vindicated. Violence isn't the answer, you know it, but sometimes? It's pleasing to see someone do what you would like to do. You would be fired if you retaliated his actions from earlier, but they won't be fired. They're the team.. the club needs the team. They're men, they're always excused for their actions with no more than a slap on the wrist. And a slap on the wrist they get. When the head coach has them all under control he loses his temper and yells at everyone. Scolds them like little boys and a few of them have the decency to look ashamed. When it's all said and done, your saviour and the oaf are suspended for a few days, one for fighting and the other for his lack of professional conduct towards female staff. Rich that it took a fight to break out with the team for them to take the disrespect seriously but.. you'll take it. Some of the others are suspended for a day and the rest are severely scolded just because they were in the vicinity. The head coach turns to you suddenly, "As for you. I would like to apologise for the treatment you've been receiving. I'll speak to the management and we'll see what should be done. But next time? Tell me what happened, not one of my players." and the tone of his voice makes you whisper 'asshole' as he walks away after dismissing everyone. He approaches you, his knuckles scrapped and bloody, his lip is bloody too and he seems to have a bruise blooming under his right eye. You want to kiss him suddenly. He smirks at you, like the devil himself, and says "You're lucky you're this cute, otherwise he would have suspended you too." and winks as he walks past you. You scoff at the suggestion and stomp after him. Until you realise what he said. He thinks you're cute. He's teasing you. Again. You instead walk back to your borrowed office and gather your things, you were dismissed too, and it is the end of the week anyway so.. you cross paths with him as you're both walking out. You're looking at your watch to check the time, maybe there's a bus you can catch now. Or you could walk back, it's not so far off and you did it this morning. But as a hand lands on the small of your back, and a low voice says behind you, "Do you need a ride home?" suddenly.. your plans for the night have already changed..

He's looking at you seriously when your eyes focus on him again. "Is everything okay?" and you nod confused, "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?". He caresses your cheek softly and looks puzzle "I feel like I lost you for a moment there, your gaze was far away.." you settle against him, trace the bruises and cuts on his knuckles, "I was just thinking about what you did today. You got into trouble because of me, and you didn't have to." he pulls you tighter, "Someone had to. Besides.." he lifts your chin up and kisses you again, a deep kiss that takes your breath away and makes your heart pound against your ribs, "I don't like the way he talks to you. Or looks at you. Actually I don't like him in general, but I especially don't like him around you.". He looks like a contrived little boy and you have the urge to laugh and kiss him, you tease him softly, "Jealous? Don't tell me you feel a little territorial already.." and.. he feels his heart do something. Is it skipping beats? Is it sinking? Whatever it's doing, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like the casual feeling he's getting. He's not making himself clear. Of course he isn't. He brought you to his house instead of yours, allowed you to care for his wounds which led to him finally losing his control and kissing you. That kiss led to you losing your clothes and ending up on his rug panting for air. So far, he has done nothing that says 'I want you'. All he's done is say 'I'm horny'. And he doesn't like it. He doesn't like that you might just want casual sex from him, he'd give it to you, oh, he so would. He's a fool for you, he'll do anything you ask, but.. he wants you. All of you. He wants more than just occasional sex. There's a need to make you his in his chest, something he's been trying to control, but he can't hold it back anymore.. he says, serious, "As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, I am. I'm territorial over you. Because I don't like to share. Never did. I was an incredibly selfish boy and I'm not ashamed to say I'm an incredibly selfish man too. I see things I want and they're mine on sight, so I don't take kindly to others forcefully trying to share them." and… your breath gets caught in your throat. Feminism has exited the chat, all of your foremothers are watching over your shoulder with curious eyes right now. You've always been self assured, strong in your convictions, you've never allowed a man to think he owns you or even had the chance to think such thoughts. But.. you're a fool for this man. You would bark if he asked you to, you don't care. He brings something out in you that turns feral. You want him so badly that you'd crawl if he asked. You whisper his name, unsure of what to say, you don't know if he means.. "I like you. In fact, I more than like you. I want you in my life. I've wanted it for a while now and it drove me crazy to think of that fucker touching you. I've been trying to find a way, to get an excuse, to bring you to me. I don't know how to do this the right way, there is no right way, I'm confused because.. I have never felt like this. You throw me off balance, I don't know how to act around you. I've been flirting with you for months now and you're oblivious to me. So, at first I assumed that you didn't want me, and I respected that. Kept my actions the same because I didn't want you to see that I was hurt but.. after what just happened today.. I think you want me. Or maybe you just think I'm really good in bed, I guess that's an option too and I'll respect if you don't want me. But I want you. A lot. What I'm trying to say here is: I think I'm falling for you and I would like you to give us the chance to see where this goes. And we can do this really simply: will you stay the night?" you look into his eyes, his eyes are beautiful, more so after he's just confessed his feelings. You feel the same and you suddenly see flashes of where your lives could go if you accept his offer. You see them reflected in his beautiful eyes. A soft smile appears on your lips as you say "Of course I will."

[hylianane]

I’ve read Time Traveler Zoro AUS far more interesting than anything my feeble little mind could cook up on it’s own, but I’d still love try to play around with the premise and give it my own spin.

I’ve read two in which Zoro loses the crew in a great tragedy, so he goes back in time to save them, and the greatest source of tension in the story is the way he tries to hide all the future knowledge he maintains from the others, while still trying to rewrite history. It’s so good and thrilling. But. Yet. However.

I’m reminded of the scene in Sabaody in which Rayleigh offers to tell the crew about the One Piece, and Luffy furiously rejects him. Says he doesn’t want a boring adventure where he knows the ending. And though I don’t recall Zoro saying anything in that moment, I think he would agree. So in this Time Travel AU, when Zoro goes back in time, he does so with the idea that this second try isn’t for him. He wants to help, but if he gets on that boat, he won’t be able to keep himself from giving Luffy all the answers in hopes of saving his life, and that would ruin his Captain’s dream.

So let’s imagine Luffy. At seventeen years old, he sets out on a journey through the Grandline to become the King of the Pirates. He has his navigator, his sniper, his cook, his doctor- all his friends by his side. And things are challenging sometimes, but always fun. And he gets lucky.

He gets lucky a lot.

Sanjj tells him it’s a guardian angel, but Luffy’s not so sure. There’s something at the back of his mind, an itch behind his ear. He starts to notice signs of a certain presence everywhere he goes, a mysterious someone who seems to always want to beat him to the punch, but also seems to never finish the job.

Like back in Orange Town, when he met Nami and fought the Buggy guy, the Clown complained about his knife thrower being put out of commission by a bounty hunter right before the fight. Or in Syrup Village, when Captain Kuroo called for reinforcements two of his officers were a no-show, their crewmates reporting that it was as if the Nyaban Brothers had disappeared into the night. When Luffy met Sanji at the Baratie, he’d felt a tension build within him as he listened to all the rumors of the Greatest Swordsman in the World having been seen nearby. But then, the tension is cut abruptly when Don Kreig walks through the door instead, announcing that he’d escaped the Warlord when some suicidal swordsman intercepted his chase.

In Whiskey Peak, Nami tells him about how she saw a cloaked figure take down 100 hundred bounty hunters without making a sound, as if trying to not disturb the Strawhat’s sleep. Luffy thinks he might’ve seen such a figure from afar when taking a leak, but he can’t be sure. In Alabasta, Ace keeps throwing looks over his shoulder as if searching for someone, but always telling Luffy there’s nothing to worry about. Vivi is shocked to discover someone took down Baroque Work’s Number 1 in a duel a night before their arrival at Alubarna. When Robin joins them at the end of it, she seems shocked to find the crew only has five members, instead of six. But she doesn’t seem keen on elaborating why just yet.

The only place that they haven’t been followed to by this Mystery Guy (as Luffy has taken to calling him) is Skypeia. Almost like he couldn’t figure out how to get up there.

And still, the whole time Luffy’s there he can’t stop thinking about him. Looking left and right as if between the clouds and the trees he’ll catch a glimpse of Mystery Guy’s face. Nami says it’s ludicrous to think that all these instances can be chalked up to same guy. Usopp tells tall tales of how they’re being stalked by a man who fell madly love with the Great Sniper’s good looks, or sometimes he tells tales of how they’re being followed by the ancient God of Fortune, or sometimes it’s any other grandiose tale he’ll accept before he accepts that it’s just a guy, just a Mystery Guy, who is real and Luffy knows it.

He knows, and he’s a little obsessed with it. And it’s not always great. He loses sleep, wondering who are you and do you know me and do i know you and stop getting in my way and why don’t you do it more and do you want to join my crew and i need you to watch me and i need you on my crew.

(Meanwhile, on his end, Zoro is planning how to stop the tragedy that will befall his family. But in the meantime he doesn’t want to just be dead weight. He doesn’t want to be apart from them. He may not have a place on that boat anymore, but he can’t have his Captain fighting his battles. He can’t let his friends go unprotected. So he’ll protect them, protect him, in silence, from afar, always one day head, always knowing what’s coming next)

[weepingtalecowboy]

Why are we even making fierce deity special when legend exists

Fanfic prompt:

You know what in comparison to like the canon gods we met fierce deity is just a 6,3 dude with a big unpractical sword and that’s it

Like that’s literally it the beams it can shoot legend was capable of shoot as young as link to the past lol

Four can shoot beams in four swords adventures

Sky has his beam fancy and called a skyward strike

And in triforce heroes legend has a legit cosplay that guess what …can shoot beams

We don’t need to make the fierce deity feel special because it really really isn’t lol

The windfish can create a whole island on a whim and we know that marin at the very least exists so that cannot just be a dream

Because she is chilling in hyrule warriors very much real looking in my opinion

Fierce deity can’t do that from what I saw of it

Fierce deity just a rat in comparison

Honestly would be hilarious if time was worried about the deity until he realized that the deity is his least worrying problem next to legend

Legend clowned on the deity,…

Just saying the den of trials is not the hardest dungeon he had to deal with

Honestly now that I think about it

Legend might actually be a deity

Like death is no problem because you die in cadence of Hyrule for upgrades and with barely any consequences… like at all

He can shoot beams (which seems to be all you need to be a deity nowadays)

Eats ganon for lunch every other week (or adventure)

Has the fierce deity outfit from an actual trial in hytopia

Interacted with …the windfish and has the ability to wake a god,… and build dungeons in its dream

Saved din and Nayru in the oracle games (farore was there as an easter egg)

Fought onox a non ganondorf evil demon thingy with god like powers who tried to control the concept of time by possessing Nayru, and tried to light the flame of destruction to annihilate the whole world

He could control time and space

Change the seasons on a whim

See the future and met the fates of past, and future in cadence of Hyrule (past let’s you come back to life , future tells you where you have to go )

He has like the golden three

The Windfish

And the fates as friends (or acquaintances but then again the windfish likes him canonically for waking him… the fates kinds are actually helpful)

Like honestly legend probably is more of a god for having the golden Doritos every new adventure for breakfast (he probably carries them after cadence of Hyrule or maybe the fates go out their way to revive him anytime he dies … but it’s probably the Doritos

He wishes on the triforce enough to have it on straight up speed dial

Like… probably literally having it on his hand because everyone gave up on building temples for it when they can just give it to the guy who holds it as often as one holds their tooth brush

If we include the royal blood thing as in the mortal with the blood of the goddess

And him and fable being siblings

Then he should be named legendary hylia and nothing else will be tolerated

Like dude is already named legend

And names hold power and significance

Fierce deity probably is his guard dog

Not because hylia's true reincarnation needs help but because it is the legendary hylia's purse dog Anna fun accessory

While time is freaking out that legend could be off legendary status,… honestly I think that was obvious

I feel so bad for hyrule because how the hell can you possibly even TRY to live up to the legacy of a god like being beyond death and capable of ending world destructive threats and has more godly friends then he has mortal ones

It's like ridiculously unfair lol

The chain has a few deities on their group yet sky is not the god in this scenario

Warriors was making fun of a literal god like being , time, sky , etc. probably realize that while he doesn’t lol

And legend probably doesn’t even know that he is as close to a god as one can possibly be

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 28]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K cw: none Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment + us clowning on all the lads bc ofc

Chapter 27: Peace and Quiet.

When you asked John to take you away, him taking you on a whole boat was not what you had in mind.

Granted, he did take you to his home in Credenhill beforehand; a cosy two-bedroom row home, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a single man in his 40s.

After having dinner on Friday night with him (John is a surprisingly good cook!) and cuddling together on the sofa before ending the night in bed, late on Saturday morning he awoke you with brunch in bed.

You half expected a lazy Saturday... only for him to tell you that you were going on an adventure.

So you ended up down south, on river Severn, on a boat. No, not a goddamn rickety fishing boat; a bloody yacht. A small one, but one nonetheless.

That didn't stop him from wearing a fishing hat. Come to think of it, you very rarely see John without a hat, only indoors. But last night when he went to get you, he was wearing a toque... He wears those a lot.

Apparently, John is an avid fan of boating. And bought one a few years back.

"Was this just an attempt at showing off?" You teased him as you stood by his side, one of his arms wrapped around your hip as the boat cruised out to the mouth of the river.

"No, da'lin', would never dream of it." John replied with a cheeky grin.

"I feel like you're lying to me." You replied as you leaned against him, eyes locked on the beautiful view of the cityscapes as you sailed out to the sea.

"Not lying, just... embellishing the truth." He joked and nuzzled up to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he pulled you to sit on his lap at the command of the boat.

"Right..." You said sarcastically, feigning annoyance, before melting at the feel of his kisses, his nose nuzzling into your hair, his beard tickling your nape.

"Plus, maybe, perhaps, I was worried the lads were going to try and crash out little getaway..." He whispered as he kept dropping little kisses onto you. "Yeah?" You asked as you looked up and back at him.

"They know where I live... Simon does, at least. And I doubt he'd show up, but... he likes you a whole lot." John murmured and then started peppering kisses to your neck.

Shivering a bit, you chuckled. "And you don't share, do you?" You joked.

"Oh, I share. But you asked me to take you away, not to bring 'em with." He quipped with a smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen you share yet, so my point still stands." You retorted as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

"Oh, is that how it is? You're a 'need to see it to believe it', type of person?" He joked and rubbed his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Mhm..." You replied as your eyes closed, leaning back into him, feeling his displays of affection.

Your hands found his extended forearms as his hands controlled the boat on either side of you. You caressed his strong, hairy forearms, a weak attempt at returning the affection.

"How about you go sit out there... Feel the sea air, the water splashing on you..." He offered. "Lay out in the sun, get a bit of a tan?"

"John, we're off the coast in Wales. There's not going to be a tan." You told him playfully.

"Humour me, will you?" He asked you and shook his head, amused.

Nodding, you got up off his lap, kissing him on the lips one last time before you slipped into the cabin to get changed into a swimsuit and then back out.

You sat outside, where John could see you from the cockpit, and took his advice to heart, lounging on the foam chairs at the bow, enjoying the cool water splashing and the sun in the horizon. It was actually enjoyable.

You sneaked a glance at John as he drove the boat, smiling at him, before you decided to put on some sunscreen, just in case. John watched you closely and made a point of showing you how much he enjoyed the sight of you putting it on. At one point he even wolf whistled at you.

After a while, John slowed the boat down and moored it. You didn't think much of it, though the area you were in was beautiful. Nothing but the two of you for miles, the ocean rocking the boat nicely and the sun shining ahead.

John comes to join you, in his own swimming trunks, pulling you close, and peppering kisses all over your back, shoulders, nape... You find yourself giggling. There was something about John... Perhaps the fact he was older, but his attention felt so... nice.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "Some good ol' peace and quiet?"

"Mhm..." You replied as you rolled over to face him. Then, you burst out laughing.

How were you supposed to not? The man had haphazardly lathered himself in sunscreen and was still wearing the bloody fishing hat!

"John, I can't-" You joked.

"What?" He asked in confusion, eyebrows raised.

"You look like a dad on vacation!" You joked and resumed your fit of giggles.

"You calling me old?" He asked in an exaggerated tone.

"No!" You said as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, running your hands over his face to spread the sunscreen more evenly. "You just..." You trailed off.

"I'll have ya know I'm still in my prime." He murmured, his thick beard covering his mouth with each word he spoke.

"You're also a dork." You retorted, feeling his hands slide up your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap.

"Oh? Would a dork have a pretty thing like you in a swimsuit in his arms while on his own boat?" He retorted before leaning close and peppering a kiss on your lips.

"I guess not." You replied playfully. "But the hat certainly doesn't help." You added and slipped it off his head. "See? So much better..."

"I happen to like my boonie hat." He told you as he kept peppering kisses on your face. "I wear it all the time when I'm in the field."

"No way?" You asked dramatically. "You mean you wear this when you're out there with your rifles and what not?" You asked as you lifted the hat off the seat next to you.

"Yes?" He told you, causing you to break into laughter again. "What? It's not that bad, is it?" He asked, feigning insecurity.

"No, it's just-" You trailed off. "First, Simon with his skull mask, then you with your boonie hat... What's next?" You asked.

"Kyle wears a baseball cap with the British flag more often than not." John replied, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"NO?!" You replied, incredulously. "No way?! He dresses so nicely out of uniform, you're telling me he also does the 'one hat' thing?"

"Absolutely he does. Have to ask him to take it off sometimes. It's like it's glued to 'im." He joked as his hands caress your body lovingly.

"What about Johnny?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

"Doesn't wear anything. Just that stupid bloody mohawk." He replied.

"Is it because of his big head?" You joked, which caused you both to break into laughter this time.

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@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[deminetly]

⋆꒰ SHIFTING CHALLANGE - MAKE A NEW DR ꒱⋆

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

˖˙ ᰋ─PICK A THEME/GENRE

⟣ fantasy

⟣ horror, scary

⟣ adventure

⟣ lifestyle

⟣ other

˖˙ ᰋ─WHEN IS IT SET?

⟣ 1580 - 1600

⟣ 1870 - 1890

⟣ 1950 -1960

⟣ 1980 - 1990

⟣ 2010-2015

⟣ 2025

⟣ 2070

⟣ 2400

˖˙ ᰋ─CHOOSE THE MAIN SETTING

⟣ space

⟣ a small town

⟣ a big city

⟣ a kingdom

⟣ a magical forest

⟣ a haunted house

⟣ an old castle

⟣ a big magical cafe

⟣ a futuristic cyberpunk city

⟣ a boarding school

⟣ a circus

⟣ underwater

˖˙ ᰋ─WHAT ARE YOU?

⟣ a normal person

⟣ a vampire

⟣ a monster

⟣ a hero

⟣ a villian

⟣ a mermaid

⟣ a fairy

⟣ an angel

⟣ a ghost

⟣ an animal

⟣ a clown

⟣ other

˖˙ ᰋ─IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE SPECIAL ABOUT YOU IN THIS DR?

⟣ no

⟣ magical powers

⟣ a deep secret

⟣ fame

⟣ really smart

⟣ you look like an angel

⟣ other

˖˙ ᰋ─IF YOU CHOSE MAGICAL POWERS, WHICH ONES DO YOU HAVE?

⟣ shapeshifting

⟣ time stop

⟣ mind control

⟣ flight

⟣ super speed

⟣ dream manipulation

⟣ super strength

˖˙ ᰋ─ABOUT YOU (BASICS)

⟣ whats your name? (ideas here)

⟣ how old are you (kid, teenager, early adult, adult, senior, other)

˖˙ ᰋ─WHAT DO YOU DRESS LIKE?

⟣ whimsical flowy dresses

⟣ really colorful

⟣ baggy clothes

⟣ formal

⟣ normal

⟣ sporty

˖˙ ᰋ─DO YOU HAVE A SIGNATURE SCENT?

⟣ vanilla

⟣ rasberries

⟣ like death

⟣ cinnamon

⟣ roses

⟣ wood

⟣ nature

⟣ like the world after it rains

˖˙ ᰋ─DO YOU HAVE AN S/O?

⟣ yes

⟣ no

⟣ maybe

⟣ not yet, we’re gonna be friends first

˖˙ ᰋ─ABOUT YOUR S/O

⟣ whats their gender?

⟣ whats their name? (ideas here)

⟣ how old are they?

⟣ what do they look like?

⟣ are they the same creature as you?

[lusty-stallion]

Plus 3 on a travel coach

CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE STORY WITH NO PRIOR ENGAGEMENT WITH PREVIOUS STORIES

Guys, as always plus 3 was a genius invention of Derek Williams all credit goes to him for such an awesome idea. Check out the inspiration to this series by reading the master himself. Plus 3 - the original Plus 3 - in the library

Also, I’ve evolved as a writer particularly through writing my own continuation of Derek’s masterpiece. The first ones are like fast food, but hopefully this one feels more descriptive.

And the AI images are just for fun, obviously they haven’t kept complete consistency between images.

---

Genie isn't your typical lamp-bound spirit from the movies. He's a free force, not constrained by the shackles of a lamp, able to weave his magic in ways that makes your skin crawl with anticipation. His power lies in the subtle art of manipulation, adding just three words to every wish to twist reality in delightfully naughty ways.

In his previous mischievous escapades, Genie had indulged Matt with a 24/7 live porn palace Harem within a lavish mansion. And after a wild cruise around the local area, where even the shopping mall succumbed to his whims, Genie sought a change of scenery—a campsite nestled in the hills. He was tired of the same old faces, the same old bodies. He wanted fresh meat, new toys to play with.

The coach journey up to the campsite had been rather eventful. The coach was loaded with men and women and a number of kids, all looking for an adventurous week camping.

A three-hour coach tour from the city to the country was of course the perfect place for Genie to have some fun.

The air at the rear of the coach hung thick with the scent of cheap beer, sweat, and the overpowering mix of cheap deodorant which clung to every college student on a budget. Ten college lads claimed the back with their youthful energy, bursting laughter, shouting, and the occasional belch that echoed through the cramped space. Each of them falling into a caricature of the stereotypical frat boy: the jock with the bulging biceps and a brain the size of a pea, the preppy kid with the trust fund and the entitlement to match, the awkward nerd trying desperately to fit in, the class clown who lived to provoke and entertain and so on.

Their immaturity was their way of life, with crude jokes, off-colour remarks, and a complete disregard for social norms. They were a pack, a tribe, and no one had the courage to ask them to quiet down.

And they were driving one man to the brink of insanity.

The gentleman in question was Mr. Davenport, a man in his 60s with silver neatly combed hair and a face etched with the wisdom of a life well-lived (and perhaps a few regrets). With his current frustrations at the young men, he sported a perpetually furrowed brow, sat just a few rows ahead of the lads, his body rigid with barely contained fury. He had boarded the bus hoping for a quiet retreat to the country, a chance to escape the stresses of his business. But these irritating frat boys had other plans. Their incessant noise, their vulgar language, and their complete lack of respect for their fellow passengers were a constant assault on his senses.

He had tried to ignore them, to block them out with his headphones and his book. But their antics were relentless, their laughter became a constant reminder of his own fading youth and his own missed opportunities. He was a man who had followed the rules, who had played it safe, who had sacrificed his dreams for the sake of stability. And these frat boys, with their carefree spirits and their blatant disregard for the consequences, were a punch in the gut.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he could take no more. His face contorted with rage and unleashing his pent-up frustration he declared: "I wish those lads would just grow up!" The words hung in the air, a pathetic plea for sanity in a world gone mad. But the frat boys hadn’t heard his cry to the universe, and they seemed to laugh louder, their immature humour only amplified.

Genie, however, did hear and he smiled as time rewound, and the man declared, “I wish those lads would just grow muscle and hunk up.”

The sense of change sent shivers down Mr. Davenport's spine and he turned to look at the lads, his face looking daggers. He had barely finished his pathetic plea for maturity when the transformation began. It started subtly, a slight tightening of the fabric across their shoulders, a barely perceptible swelling of their biceps. But then it accelerated, a runaway train of muscle growth that defied all logic and reason.

The frat boys, who had been moments before a collection of average-sized college students, were now swelling before his very eyes. Their clothes, once loose and comfortable, were now straining at the seams, threatening to burst at any moment. Their faces, once soft and boyish, were hardening, their jaws becoming more defined, their eyes taking on a predatory glint.

The navy t-shirt of one of the frat boys on the back seat, ripped with a sound like thunder, exposing his taught, hard pecs. His chest expanded, his nipples hardening as if in anticipation of some unseen pleasure. His arms, once flabby and weak, were now bulging with muscle, his biceps straining against the confines of his sleeves.

The chubby guys physique now transformed into that of a built model, sat in his new green hoodie which clung to his bulging biceps.

The other frat boys were undergoing similar transformations. Their shoulders broadened, their chests expanded, their abs hardened into washboard perfection. Their legs, once spindly and weak, were now thick and powerful, their thighs straining against the fabric of their shorts.

The silence that followed was deafening. The frat boys, stunned by the sudden and unexpected changes to their bodies, could only stare at each other in disbelief. They flexed their newfound muscles, marvelling at their newfound strength. They ran their hands over their hardened abs, revelling in the feeling of power and sex appeal.

The air in the coach simmered with an almost unbearable tension. The newly built bodybuilder nearest Mr. Davenport, a closeted jock named Chad, relished the older gent's uncontrollable stares through the transformation. He had always found guys hot, yet had hoped he’d develop latent desires for women eventually, but he had never dared to express his desires openly. Now, with his muscles and his newfound confidence, he couldn't resist the urge to test the waters.

"I wish everyone was as interested in our bodies as that guy there," Chad muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on Mr. Davenport's crotch, which showed no signs of arousal at all.

Zip, time struck back a chord, and his wish was amplified, twisted into something far more explicit: "I wish every male was as interested in our sexy bodies as that horny guy there."

The effect was instantaneous. The other frat boys, who only moments before were a collection of confused and horny straight young men, were now consumed by an overwhelming desire for each other. Their eyes locked, their bodies trembled, and their heterosexuality dissolved like sugar in water.

"That was such a gay wish man, what the fuck bro?" One of the young hunks, his name was Jake, said with a mixture of shock and excitement. His already strained white polo shirt, unable to contain his burgeoning muscles, shrank down to a tank top that clung to his large, sculpted pecs. He reached over and gave his mate, the guy next to him, a cheeky peck on the cheek, making the other hunk, whose name was Tyler, blush.

But Jake wasn't satisfied with just a peck. He wanted more, he needed more. He wanted to taste the salty sweat on Tyler's skin, he wanted to feel the heat of his body against his own.

Brad, the most aggressive of the bunch, wasn't about to be left out of the fun. He had always been the most sexually adventurous of the group, and he wasn't afraid to take what he wanted. His eyes burning with new lust for his friends, he pushed his way between Tyler and Jake, his muscles flexing with each movement.

"Guys, I'm getting in on this," Brad growled, his voice thick with desire. "Let me get a taste of that mouth of yours Jake."

And without waiting for an invitation, he lunged forward, his hands tearing at Jake's now-grey tank top. The fabric ripped with a satisfying sound, exposing Jake's hard, sculpted chest. Brad didn't hesitate; he climbed onto Jake's legs, straddling him like a bucking rodeo rider. Brad didn't ask; he took. He slammed his lips against Jake's, a brutal, possessive claim. Jake's surprise quickly shifted into a desperate need, his own mouth opening wider, inviting Brad's invasion. Brad's tongue plunged into Jake's mouth, a thick, muscular spear exploring every corner, every crevice, leaving no doubt who was in control. He tasted Jake's fear, his excitement, his lust, and it only fuelled his dominance. One hand snaked around Jake's neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding him captive, while the other squeezed his bicep, testing the muscle, claiming it as his own. Brad ground his hips against Jake's, letting him feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against his thigh. He bit down on Jake's lower lip, a sharp, stinging sensation that made Jake gasp, and Brad used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue now a relentless piston, pounding against Jake's. It was a kiss that stripped Jake bare, a kiss that left him breathless and trembling, a kiss that marked him as Brad's.

Brad's hands roamed over Jake's body, exploring every inch of his fresh musculature. He squeezed his pecs, he ran his fingers down his abs, he cupped his bulging crotch and then made his way to wiggle his middle finger into his hole.

Jake gasped at the intrusion, initially surprised by Brad's aggressive advances, but he quickly succumbed to the pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Brad's body, pulling him closer, his own tongue darting out to meet Brad's. He moaned softly, his body trembling with anticipation.

The other frat boys, caught up in the moment, began to pair off as well. Tyler, not wanting to be left out, turned his attention to Chad, the closeted jock who had inadvertently started this whole orgy. He grabbed Chad by the shoulders, pulling him close, his eyes burning with desire.

"You started this, Chad," Tyler whispered, his voice husky with lust. "Now you're going to finish it."

And with that, he leaned in and kissed Chad, their mouths meeting in a passionate embrace. Chad, who had never kissed a man before, was initially hesitant. But the heat of Tyler's body, the intensity of his kiss, quickly melted away his inhibitions. He wrapped his arms around Tyler's body, returning the kiss with equal fervour.

Mr. Davenport, meanwhile, was in a state of complete shock. He had never witnessed anything like this before. He had always prided himself in his heterosexuality and his composure. But now, with these frat boys engaging in a full-blown orgy right in front of him, he found his inhibitions crumbling, his desires shifting.

He watched, transfixed, as the frat boys kissed, groped, and fondled each other. He could feel his own body stirring, his cock had been hard since Chad wished he was horny, and it had never felt so painfully constricted. He knew that he should look away, that he should try to maintain some semblance of decency. But he couldn't resist. He was drawn to this orgy of young men like a moth to a flame, and he was willing to burn for the chance to experience its forbidden pleasures.

The older gent, couldn’t take his eyes off the younger men, his cock raging hard. He was disgusted at himself, but for some reason he couldn’t break his eyes away from the display of youthful lust from the adolescent hunks. Come to mention it, the other men in the coach found their attention moved toward them.

Jake broke from Brad’s kiss to say “I wish Tyler was a sexy stripper slut who loves seducing men. I also wish his muscles would grow when he’s seducing.”

Genie grinned “I wish Tyler was a sexy stripper slut who loves seducing men for a living. I also wish his muscles would grow thicker when he’s seducing straight men.”

Tyler, the only lad left in a top, which was now stretched to its limit, emboldened by the attention and the sudden surge of testosterone, locked eyes with the older gent. A wicked grin spread across his face, revealing a hint of the devil within. He pulled away from his make-out session, leaving Chad panting and flushed.

"Hey, old timer," he drawled, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "you seem to be enjoying the show. Why don't I give you a private performance?"

Before the older gent could respond, Tyler sauntered down the aisle, his newly acquired muscles rippling beneath his clinging tank top. The other passengers watched in stunned silence, their eyes glued to his every move.

He stopped directly in front of the older gent, his bulging biceps practically brushing against the man's face. He leaned in close, his breath hot and heavy against the man's ear.

"I bet you've never seen anything like this before," he whispered, his voice laced with a seductive purr.

With a sudden, unexpected move, the frat boy seductively placed himself on the older guys lap, gyrating into the older man’s crotch. Then he began to strip. He slowly peeled off his tank top, revealing his massive, sculpted chest. His pecs bounced with each movement, drawing gasps from the onlookers.

He then unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving the older gent's. He slowly slid his shorts down his hips, revealing a pair of tight, blue boxer briefs that barely contained his bulging package.

Mr. Davenport's eyes widened in disbelief, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. He was both horrified and aroused by the spectacle unfolding before him. He had always considered himself a respectable, heterosexual man, but the sight of this young, muscular frat boy stripping and grinding on his lap was stirring something deep within him, something he had never dared to acknowledge.

He even witnessed Tyler's muscles pump bigger, growing larger and more defined as he gave in to his advances. It was as if the act of seduction was fuelling his physical transformation, turning him into the ultimate object of desire.

Tyler, now completely naked from the waist up, straddled the older gent's lap, his rock-hard thighs pressing against the man's groin. He began to grind against him, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent shivers down Mr. Davenport's spine.

"How's that feel, old timer?" Tyler purred, his voice now dripping with lust. "Bet you wish you were young again, huh? Able to handle all this muscle."

Mr. Davenport groaned, his self-control crumbling like a dam about to burst. He reached out and grabbed Tyler's ass, squeezing the firm, muscular cheeks. He couldn't help himself. The feel of Tyler's body against his was too intoxicating, too overwhelming to resist.

Tyler let out a throaty laugh, then leaned in and licked Mr. Davenport's ear, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot and heavy against the man's skin.

He continued to grind against Mr. Davenport, his movements becoming more and more frantic. The other passengers watched in a mixture of shock, arousal, and envy. Some averted their eyes, pretending not to see what was happening. Others stared openly, their own desires ignited by the scene unfolding before them.

Chad, inspired by Tyler's success and aware his previous wish had been granted, decided to take things even further. He approached Mr. Davenport, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

He ran his hand down to Mr. Davenport’s crotch and felt the hard shaft of the older man, straining against his pants. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“I wish you only desire sex with young men now who call you Daddy,” Chad whispered, his voice laced with seduction.

The Genie, who had been observing the scene with amusement, smirked. This young lad had been a straight, awkward college boy until only a few moments ago. Now, he was a professional rent boy, a master of seduction, with a very naughty kink for seducing older men.

He wound back time desiring to unleash Mr. Davenport's deepest, darkest desires, to transform him into the ultimate object of lust.

“I wish you only desire sex with young, dumb, hunky men now who call you Leather Daddy,” Chad whispered, his voice dripping with anticipation."

As Chad whispered the words "Leather Daddy," a surge of raw, untamed power coursed through Mr. Davenport's body. It started in his groin, a throbbing, insistent ache that demanded release. It spread through his chest, tightening his muscles, hardening his nipples. It surged into his arms, making his hands clench into fists.

He felt his skin tingle, his senses sharpen, his inhibitions crumble. He was no longer Mr. Davenport, the respectable businessman. He was now a Leather Daddy, a master of pain and pleasure, a connoisseur of young, dumb, hunky men.

He looked down at Tyler, still straddling his lap, his body glistening with sweat, his eyes burning with desire. He saw the potential, the raw, untapped masculinity that was just waiting to be unleashed. He saw the perfect blank canvas, ready to be moulded and shaped to his every whim.

A primal growl rumbled in his chest, a sound that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He reached out and grabbed Tyler's ass, squeezing the firm, muscular cheeks.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice now deeper and more resonant. "You belong to me. I’ll pimp your sexy ass out to whomever I choose and you’ll make me a lot of money boy!"

Tyler, still riding high on the adrenaline of his performance, simply smiled and leaned in to kiss Mr. Davenport again. But as their lips met, something shifted. Tyler's eyes glazed over, his mind went blank, and a dumb smile spread across his face.

The transformation was complete. Tyler was now a dumb, muscle-bound stud, perfectly suited to the desires of his new Leather Daddy and he was proud to make money for Daddy with his sexy body.

Mr. Davenport pulled back from the kiss, his eyes burning with lust. He ran his hands over Tyler's body, feeling the warmth of his skin, the hardness of his muscles.

"Daddy," Tyler said, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "take me."

He needed to claim Tyler, to mark him as his own, right here, right now, in front of everyone.

He grabbed Tyler's face, his fingers digging into the young man's cheeks, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed him hard, his tongue exploring every inch of Tyler's mouth, his teeth nipping at his lips.

Tyler, his mind now a blank slate, responded with a fervour that was both thrilling and terrifying. He wrapped his arms around Daddy Davenport's neck, his body pressing against the older man's, his hips grinding against his groin.

Daddy broke the kiss, his eyes burning with lust. He looked around the coach, taking in the shocked, aroused faces of the other passengers. He saw the envy in their eyes, the desire in their hearts. He knew that they all wanted to be Tyler, to be the object of his desire.

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. He was going to give them a show they would never forget.

He grabbed Tyler's hand and pulled him towards the nearest seat, where Chad and the other jocks were sitting, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Move," Daddy growled, his voice now a low, menacing rumble. "This is my seat now."

Chad and the other jocks scrambled out of the way, their faces a mixture of fear and excitement. They knew that they were about to witness something extraordinary, something forbidden.

Daddy sat down, pulling Tyler onto his lap. He straddled the young man, his thighs squeezing his waist, his groin pressing against his ass.

He grabbed Tyler's head and forced him down, his fingers tangling in his hair.

"Suck my cock," he commanded, his voice dripping with lust. "Suck it good."

Tyler, his mind completely blank, obeyed without hesitation. He opened his mouth and took Daddy's throbbing cock inside, his lips wrapping around the shaft, his tongue dancing over the head.

Daddy groaned, his head falling back, his body arching with pleasure. He closed his eyes, savouring the sensation, the warmth, the wetness. He felt the other passengers watching him, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them.

He didn't care. He was a Leather Daddy, and he was going to take what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.

He opened his eyes and looked down at Tyler, his face buried in his lap, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glazed over. He saw the other jocks watching, their cocks straining against their pants, their hands reaching for their own dicks.

He smirked. He was in control, and he was loving every minute of it.

---

TBC tomorrow