#as soon as i noticed i attempted to vary it a little more lol

[cherrydott]

OARFISH!! Tried my hand at some perspective and bbshshsbd be gentle I'm still practicing lmao additional lighting under cut

I wanna show it better in another sketch of them but their hair is divided w that fin and I Totally blanked on translating that into the hair (now that I look at it again, if I did it again there would be more of a split in the back) bout damn time I added a redhead to my mermverse I say, half these goobers don't even have hair

[eruden-writes]

The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 24 (Yautja x Human)

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (coming soon)

CW: Nothing much, I think. Discussions of sex. Kind of. lol

Tag list: @ajarofpickledtears, @boogeysmoth

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Early chapters available on Patreon for my patrons! ;)

Be one of the first to read Part 25, when it’s ready!

Comments, tags, and reblogs are real motivators for me, too! ♥

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Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn’t know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she’s not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'dqei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'dqei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'dqei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja’s natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

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When Rayelle was able to walk again, she was thankful for her prior intuitive decision when it came to her clothes. If she hadn't stopped him to strip off a few key articles, Rayelle had no doubt Tai'dqei would have utterly decimated her hoodie and jeans. She would have had to resort to fashioning a makeshift dress from one of the many sheets in the laundry area, which would have made the smirks and grins from her fellow humans all the more mortifying.

Tai'dqei had opted for partial armor along with his mask, unconcerned with any potential threats awaiting inside. Obviously, he was more than enough for the forces that had taken the resort. Or, perhaps, they had orchestrated the entire thing. That would just be something to determine in the meantime.

The other reason, the one he didn't fully admit to himself, was the scent. He didn't know how strong human olfactory senses were, but most non-humans - especially his fellow yautja - would know and notice his scent was all over Rayelle and hers all over him. It would be clear what activities they had very recently partook in. And he wasn't keen on covering that up.

Thankfully, by the time Tai'dqei and Rayelle returned to the others, the reinforcements had arrived. To varying degrees of diplomatic success. There were behemoths rounding up and hauling around struggling, screaming, crying humans. Other humans were using their stolen weapons, racing around this new threat.

Rayelle had little time to feel embarrassed about her activities with Tai'dqei, as she ran the gamut of calming humans and explaining the yautja were there to help.

From uncertainty to outright denial to from light curiosity to full-on enamored, the others' reactions varied so greatly. Rayelle was just thankful that the yautja that came to Tai'dqei's call were as patient as he, at least from what she saw. Just like the humans, the yautjas' reactions varied. From equal curiosity to annoyance and frustration to - oddly - seeming infatuation.

All through the chaos, Tai'dqei was at her elbow. He'd further explain details to those yautja who couldn't understand the humans or give suggestions - if not outright commands - for what the others should do. More than once a dissenting opinion had been met with a quiet growl from him, a threatening step forward as he nudged Rayelle behind him.

He'd remind them that he had done most of the hard work, clearing out the resort. To which the other would eye Tai'dqei, sizing him up before backing down. With shoulders hunched, they'd scurry off to do whatever was asked of them.

And there was so much to do.

So, so much.

Rewiring the power grid. Cleaning up dead bodies. Tending to the wounded. Attempting to fix the android staff. Smoking out any enemy survivors and detaining them. After some discussion, the yautja were thankfully willing to put the enemies in their ships' brigs, away from humans and under watchful surveillance.

In one of the lulls, Rayelle flopped into a chair in the 2070s auditorium. Previously, when the humans had been herded into this very area, the apparent plan was to auction them off to bidders. Now, it was mostly humans and yautjas - with the occasional other race traveling with the latter - tending to wounded, eating food, and just trying to relax after the ordeal.

They had managed to get the lights back on, along with temperature control and the PA system. Which made for a far more pleasant atmosphere than the red-tinted world. Every so often, something would come on over the stereos, said once in English and then once more in yautja tongue.

Leaning back in her chair, Rayelle sighed and accepted a water bottle from a green yautja, who quickly scurried off afterward. She had just unscrewed the lid and took a gulp, when she was suddenly swarmed by some familiar faces.

"Hey, Resistance Leader, how's it going?"

Rayelle threw Lisa a cross look, not really in the mood for her teasing nicknames. Waving a hand at the going-ons around them, she muttered, "Pretty busy."

That made the punk laugh, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, yeah, busy."

"Lisa, quit being so... uncouth," sniffed Sandra, as carefully dropped into a chair across from Rayelle. The woman must have had a chance to actually change, thought Rayelle as she noticed the clean shirt and skirt.

"Oh, don't get on me, Sandy." Lisa scoffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I saw how you were looking at that big blue fella earlier."

"Do not call me Sandy," Sandra gave an uncharacteristic hiss, frowning deeply. In return, Lisa flashed a mock look of horror, before sticking her tongue out at the housewife.

Before Rayelle could press Sandra about which 'big blue fella' she was allegedly taken with, Bette elbowed into the conversation, in her quiet and firm way. "Ignore them. We came over here to ask how it went."

Rayelle blinked, a little lost and feeling a little more than abruptly accosted. "How what went?"

The other three women exchanged looks, before Sandra hedged in with an awkward whisper, "The courting ritual."

While Sandra attempted to be delicate, Lisa groaned, "Just ask if she and her boytoy fucked, gawd."

Embarrassed heat flooded through Rayelle, as she straightened from her tired slump. "How is that any of your business?"

"Well, you already heard about Sandra and Big Blue. And Bette's been making eyes at a rather curvy green thing." Lisa explained, a broad grin on her lips. She was eating this shit up, Rayelle thought. Novel and extreme experiences seemed to be Lisa's bread and butter. Pulling up a seat next to Rayelle, Lisa leaned over and motioned to the room with a wave of her arm. "Seems like it's a benefit to human-alien relations to discuss this stuff, yeah?"

"Oh." Rayelle stared at the humans flocked around her, their expressions ranging from bashful to eager. It made sense, she supposed, they'd come to her about this. Especially considering how she talked about Tai'dqei and how she shooed them away earlier. The understanding didn't help the heat suddenly splashed over her face.

Hesitantly, Rayelle glanced around the room, seeing if they were being eavesdropped on. The assembled yautja weren't paying them any mind, it seemed. Tai'dqei was on the other side of the room, pointing and instructing a small contingent to do something.

"Well, uh, it was fine," Rayelle said, half-distractedly. Across the room, Tai'dqei glanced up, cocking his head when he noticed her gaze. She offered him an awkward smile, before quickly turning back to her small audience. "Tai'dqei got his chase and, uh, we did the thing."

Bette snorted, an amusement curling at her lips. "How scandalous."

"Look, I don't usually talk about stuff like this." Rayelle gave an aggrieved groan, pressing her face into her hands. With the coolness of her palms pressed to her warming cheeks, Rayelle took a deep breath. This wasn't a big deal. They all were adults and it was better they went into this with some knowledge, right?

Not that Rayelle was supporting any of them actually taking on a yautja lover. But it wasn't like she could stop them if they really wanted one. "The chase was heart pounding and kind of fun. Make sure you remove clothes you like, or they might get torn off."

Another round of snorts from Lisa and Bette made Rayelle's cheeks burn a little. It had been so long since she talked about sexual encounters with anyone who could remotely be considered friends, she'd almost forgotten how embarrassing it was.

What else could she tell them to slake their curiosity? Her hands slipped down her face, her fingers resting lightly on her lips. Rayelle still found the words hard to say, stumbling over herself. "He was pretty big, but I was already sopping wet so we managed, and there were these ridges."

"Ridges?" That got a curious, almost worrisome, gasp from Sandra. She leaned forward, her hands folded tightly atop her thighs, as she pitched her voice to a whisper, "Did they hurt?"

"No, they were pliable and when he came, some of them swelled. I think to, like, make sure the cum stayed inside." Just explaining it made Rayelle's thighs clench tight, even as her hands made motions to indicate what she meant.

"Was it just... mating? Or is he interested in more?" Bette surprised Rayelle with the question, but - after an exchanged look with Sandra - she realized other women had similar curiosities.

Rayelle gave a helpless shrug, uncertain how to answer the question. "I don't know."

She and Tai'dqei had gone from a wild fuck to back to serious work so quick. Neither had a chance to pursue further conversation on the matter. Rayelle wasn't even sure there was anything further to talk about. Which didn't make her delighted to consider, but at least she had those stolen moments with Tai'dqei.

There was a beat of contemplative silence, before Sandra asked, "Do you want more?"

"I don't know," confessed Rayelle, that wretched feeling swelling up in her again. She'd been staving the question off, trying to focus on what needed to be in the here and now. Faced with it headon, something in her chest went tight and the back of her eyes burned.

Of course, she wanted something deeper, something that lasted, but she didn't know if Tai'dqei was seeking the same. Nor could she shake her other responsibilities still waiting for her. "I have kids back in my time that need me."

That little reminder of the reality of the situation quietened the other women. They all had families, somewhere in time. Rayelle was certain a few of the humans could get away with traveling the wild spacey yonder, with little to no cares about the life they left behind. But so many had friends and family that still cared for them.

Rayelle cast a glance around the other human women present. Faintly, she wondered what they'd choose. She didn't exactly know all the nuances of their stories. Just some basics.

Lisa drew Rayelle from her thoughts with a sudden, contemplative, question. "Can the yautja kiss?"

At this point, Rayelle was beginning to feel useless. Another shrug, another sigh. "I don't know, we never did that."

Not that she would have minded, if they had bumbled through a kiss. But the need and desperation was high. Trying to figure out the best meeting of lips and mandibles wasn't really high on the list, in their hormone-consumed minds. Without thought, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, considering the possibilities of kissing Tai'dqei.

She'd been so deep in conversation, she didn't hear or notice the hulking yautja sidle up beside her. "Is something wrong?"

Rayelle's eyes wheeled up to Tai'dqei and the urge to expire, right there and then, rose up in her. He stood right next to her, his fishnets highlighting the curvatures of his build while his partial armor barely made him decent. Once more, his infuriating helmet masked his expression, but at least his body language was free. His head tilted to the side, smooth visor angled curiously to her.

Rayelle's cheeks still burned from the discussion. The last thing she wanted was him seeing her all flustered, like a schoolgirl.

Thankfully - or perhaps horrifully - Lisa piped up with one of her incessantly direct questions. "Do yautja know how to kiss?"

"Kiss?" His head swiveled toward the inquisitive human, as he considered her words. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rayelle tense and the color in her cheeks deepen. Was she mad that another human was asking him this? "What do you mean?"

"With humans, we press our lips together, like this." To illustrate what she meant, Lisa grabbed Sandra and mashed their lips together. The other woman squeaked, but didn't pull away - as Rayelle would have expected - and merely stared wide-eyed at Lisa. The red-haired firecracker pulled away quick, leaving the housewife more than a little flushed and dazed. "Do yautja have a similar sign of affection?"

"In a way. We flare our mandibles and put our mouths together." Unruffled, Tai'dqei explained the mechanics of a yautja kiss, sliding his hands together and interlocking the space between the forefinger and thumb to demonstrate. Though he wore his helmet, there were plenty of his kind walking around, bare-faced. He only really answered, since Rayelle was right there. Her knowing was all that mattered to him. Just in case she was curious, as well.

Besides, he'd had this exact conversation with a number of species and yautja pups. As an aside, he also added, "Sometimes there is tongue."

With large, round eyes, a woman seated stiff and wearing clothing that had to hamper her movement, leaned toward Tai'dqei. "Can you show us?"

"Sandra!" Of all the people, Rayelle didn't expect her to ask.

Not to be outdone, the red-headed woman pointed a finger toward Rayelle. Gleefully, with such a broad smile it made Tai'dqei's face ache, she said, "Kiss Rayelle right now!"

"Lisa!" Rayelle's voice cracked, her blush eating away at her cheeks.

Even under Rayelle's glower, Lisa didn't wilt. She just grinned and shrugged, without concern. "Hey, it doesn't hurt to ask."

Tai'dqei tilted his mask up, off his face, and cast Rayelle a curious look. She weakly smiled up at him. The way his mandibles seemed to flex in amusement just enhanced her mortification. "It seems some of my fellow humans are intrigued by the yautja."

She hoped her meaning wasn't lost on him. Part of her wondered if he had to field any questions, from interested yautja parties. It was hard to say whether any of them were interested in the humans present. Plus, there was that snag of human-yautja relations being tense, given some history she hadn't gotten the details on.

"Ah, well, would you like a kiss?" He settled his mask on an empty chair as he asked his question. It seemed a fair one to ask. They hadn't exactly locked faces when they were together. Besides, it appeared the others found this an important enough subject to breach with him.

Though, he couldn't help but notice how Rayelle sat straighter, stiffer, in her chair. She also seemed unable to meet his eyes. A small chill dipped in his chest, wondering if she wasn't interested.

Her soft, airy words presented a different message. "I am curious to know how well it'd work, between us."

He made that amused chuff that made her insides squirm, before stooping over her. Instead of laying one on her, as she braced herself for, he scooped her up in his arms with ease. She gave a little squeak as he positioned her legs around his sides, her thighs squeezing. Tai'dqei held her high up against him, so she could be almost eye-to-eye. Not quite, but almost.

Rayelle bit down on her lower lip, already aware of the interested looks the others were giving her. It was like searing tar, scorching her back.

Plus, the width and heat of Tai'dqei's torso between her legs ignited those tingling sensations in her core. She wondered, if it wasn't for his armor, if she'd feel the nudge of his excitement against her.

It took a moment of them both staring at each other for Rayelle to realize he waited for her to make the first move. That thought made even further heat bleed across her cheeks. Bracing her hands against his chest, her fingers curling around the edge of his chest armor, she leaned forward.

His mandibles splayed wide, the wet fleshy interior of his maw spread out around her. The sharp tips of his mandibles were gentle as they slipped along her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips pressed to his slightly parted maw. The heat and moisture of his mouth pressed around her, especially as his mandibles enclosed her face.

Her tongue traced over his large, pointed teeth, tentatively tasting and breaching into his mouth as his maw opened a little wider. Rayelle's tongue explored, part of her mind making sense of Tai'dqie's mouth, as his own tongue did the same.

A deep-chested purr echoed through his chest, as he considered her flat, soft, spongy tongue. His own was more cylindrical and firm, with a forked end. Though, if the way hers writhed against his was any indication, Rayelle didn't seem off-put by it.

Tai'dqei had to gently end the kiss when she sucked on his tongue while simultaneously stroking one of his tendrils. Her ministrations shot hot, tingling sensations down his body to his core. He doubted Rayelle would appreciate being ravaged in front of a crowd. Even if the thrill of asserting his position with her, over the other yautja prescient, coursed through him.

"Thoughts?" He asked, distracting himself from how her thighs flexed around him and how her fingers brushed his throat.

Rayelle was still trying to process the sensations. It was an odd kiss, but she was more than willing to give it another go. She suspected sucking on his tongue had excited him and she really, dearly wanted to explore that further.

But there was moisture on her cheeks, cooling obviously against her flush. Bashfully, she brushed the back of her hand against both her cheeks, wicking away the saliva. "Kind of wet."

"I'm sorry," Tai'dqei huffed a sigh, his shoulders sagging a little under the observation. There were bound to be things that didn't quite match up between them, all things considered. Still, it was a little disappointing. "It is an odd configuration."

"I'm not complaining," Rayelle reassured, momentarily forgetting the audience they had and pressing her cheek to his shoulder. "I wouldn't say no to it happening again."

"Good to know." Tai'dqei shifted on his feet, painfully aware of the human women watching them. It reminded him of the groups of yautja circling and eyeing potential sires. A mild embarrassment crawled up his back. To make matters worse, other yautja were certainly eyeballing Rayelle and himself.

He barely swallowed down an agitated chitter. As if reading his irritability in the air, many yautja turned away, shoulders hunched as they went about assigned duties. Not for the first time since returning from outside, Tai'dqei wished he and Rayelle could have some space and privacy.

Rayelle had just begun to let her eyes close, comfortable in Tai'dqei's arms to the point of sudden exhaustion coaxing her toward slumber. Then she heard a giggle to her left. Her eyes snapped wide as she remembered the peanut gallery watching the whole spectacle. Immediately, she sat straighter in Tai'dqei's arms, swinging a glare to Lisa - the presumed giggler - and the others.

The women straightened under her leer, lips pressed tight together in amusement as they all averted their gazes.

Only Tai'dqei's soft, contemplative growl dragged Rayelle's attention back to him. He considered his words carefully, mandibles wriggling, before inquiring, "The situation is stable and trustworthy authority should be here soon. Would you like to rest with me on my ship?"

[rainileo]

hilariously unpredictable

bf!mingyu x (female reader)

warnings: pwp, somewhat domestic bf mingyu, sweet bf mingyu, best boy mingyu, ass play, spanking, ass biting (?), mingyu likes ass lol, unprotected sex, anal sex, choking, anal fingering, size kink, crying, dom mingyu, mingyu is very skilled sexually lol, pussy slapping, squirting, swearing

lmk if i miss anything (not completely proof read)

feedback is appreciated!

anon’s asked;

What would it feel like to try anal with Mingyu for the first time?

oh my god I can’t stop thinking about mingyu and pussy slapping

a/n: mingyu is our resident ass man,,, so obviously i had to write this lmao. the dialogue kinda lacks and sorry if it makes no sense )i was high writing this im sorry landjsk)

mingyu could be hilariously unpredictable sometimes.

especially in the bedroom. it could be confusing and unexpected when he would randomly come to you, curiously asking if you’d like to try something new in bed. it was surprising because he would always suggest the most random things, varying to very questionable kinks and positions, and so much more.

but it was good, his unpredictability left you on edge, always wondering what he would suggest next, and if it would be something new that you both like and so on.

that was one of the many reasons why you loved mingyu; he was so comfortable around you and could easily express himself around you without judgment. it was a both way type thing and it worked out for the two of you.

now the two of you were seated on the couch, him laying on top of you, head resting on your chest and gently stroking your side underneath yours (his) shirt.

“babe.” mingyu says flatly, looking up to you. the both of you were originally watching the movie until he caught your attention, the movie soon forgotten.

you knew this scenario all to well, recalling him always starting with the ‘babe’.

you turned to him and sigh, “yeah?” you question, tilting your head to the side. his hand that was rubbing your side now squeezes your waist, him now leaving gentle kisses on your chest. once again, you knew this situation all too well and was already preparing for him to suggest something.

“i was talking to the guys,” he says between kisses, “and...” he trails off, biting down into your skin roughly and looks up to you with those eyes. you bite your lip in anticipation, feeling yourself buzz in excitement, “and?” you question a little too quickly for your liking.

“i wanna try anal.” he throws out, squeezing your waist tightly in question and you feel your stomach toss at the proposal. again, he leaves you breathless from his unpredictability. you almost feel lightheaded thinking about it, wondering if it would be a hit or miss.

your heart begins to pound in your chest and you nod, smiling at him happily.

mingyu, being the best boyfriend he is, took you to the shower to help you clean, and he even went over precautions and rules to keep you comfortable and safe. he also fingered you to prepare you as well, stretching you out only using his spit for lubricant.

once the two of you finish, he carries you to the bedroom, sitting himself down on the edge of your shared bed and positioning you to stand between his legs.

you were both completely bare, water droplets still making their way down your damp bodies. the air was cold until his hands immediately find their usual spot on your ass, pulling you closer to him, pressing your chest against his and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his larger body immediately radiated heat on to you, causing you to shiver from the new found warmth. he found it incredibly endearing they way you were so small compared to him that even when he sat on your shared bed that was pretty high up off the ground, his form still towers over you.

“god i love how small you are.” he grunts out and leans in, kissing you roughly. you gasp out against his lips as he spanks your ass harshly; he then takes advantage of your open mouth and forcefully shoves his tongue in to your entrance to explore. you allow him in and continue to intensely make out.

your hands grip onto his shoulders, digging your nails into him as he roughly grabs your ass, spanking it again. you squirm on him and moan into his mouth out of reaction and he pulls away, leaving the two of you breathless, chests both heaving up and down.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence, both staring in awe at each other as the both of you are still slightly damp, swollen lips from the intense kisses and skin a light blush red from the heat of the moment.

but the heat of the moment is cut short when you open your mouth, “who the hell is going on about anal over there?” you randomly blurt out, ruining your sensual moment with mingyu. he burst out laughing at your sudden question, because he didn’t really have a valid answer either.

“it was in the moment,” he says between laughs. you laugh at his excuse and he continues, “it was just the direction of the conversation, just-,” he cuts himself off and pauses, closing his eyes to attempt to regain composure and so do you, successfully failing and laughing together again.

“-just don’t ask?” you finish his sentence, placing your small hands on his cheeks gently. he laughs out of his nose, snorting again cutely and leaning to you once more, pressing your noses together. he nods, agreeing with your comment, “yeah, just don’t ask.” he jokingly dismisses, leaning in to kiss you again, large hands roughly gripping your ass again. he smiles into the kiss and moves his tongue to lick against your bottom lip, making you whimper slightly.

the mood shifts back as you guys kiss for a few more minutes until he pulls away, moving down towards your neck and giving wet kisses all over it. he immediately finds your sweet spot, licking and sucking over it, causing you to moan and shift in front of him. he notes the way your chest rubs against his, your nipples getting harder every time you move. he bends over and leaves his original spot to move down to your boobs, giving them both missed attention by pulling your nipples occasionally and massaging them.

you watch down on him, playing with his hair and biting your lip in anticipation, revelling in the feeling of his mouth. he pulls away and suddenly grips your hips and turns you around in 180 degrees.

you yelp at the suddenness but allow him to manhandle you the way he wants. he moves his hands to your thighs underneath your ass and strokes the skin, pinching causing you to softly gaso. you brace yourself on his knees beside you and he hunches over, leaning down to your tailbone, giving it gentle kisses too.

you reach a hand around to grip his hair, threading your fingers through his locks and pulling as begins he digs his nails into your skin. you flip your hair to the side to get a better look at him and he looks up at you, giving you a devious smirk, biting harshly on the curve of you spine.

your eye brows knit together when he moves his hand between your thighs, index finger lightly brushing against your core. your breathing increases, the sounds of it resounding between the two of you. you shiver and goosebumps erupt along your skin as he strokes the inside of your thigh, avoiding where you needed him the most.

“fuck.” you spit, the gentleness of your voice contrasting the way he suddenly, not so gently slaps your pussy. you yelp and bite your lip, fingers gripping his hair tightly again.

he lifts his head back to level with yours to move your hair over your shoulder and kisses you gently, biting too. “you’re such a good girl for me.” the praise goes straight to you core and you squirm, awaiting his next move.

the friction immediately giving you pleasure. your eyes flutter close in reaction to his touches as he continues to play with you. he leans over to the side table with his other hand and reaches for your lube, speedily putting some on his finger in and going to your awaiting hole and pushing it in quickly and unexpectedly. your mouth drops open in surprise, moaning out and then biting your lip to conceal your noises. the feeling was still foreign but pleasurable. you revel in the slow building pleasure as he pumps his finger into you, his preparation ritual the exact same as he would with the other hole. your knees almost give out from the new pleasure, it all becoming overwhelming in your standing position, which you curse him for putting you in.

“more please,” you weakly let out, moving your hand down to your bundle of nerves to relieve yourself, roughly rubbing to assist in the achievement of pleasure and comfort.

over a few minutes he adds more fingers, slowly and soon enough he has four fingers knuckle deep inside you, pumping in and out of you. you finally indicate that you’re ready when you release a pleasured sigh. he notices and perks,

“are you ready?” he whispers against your spine and you whine, gripping his hair tighter to show your response (which is obviously yes). he smiles against your skin, removing his fingers and impressively picking you up by your rib cage and places you over his lap, straddling him. you’re still facing the opposite direction from him, wanting to see him but he uses your new position to push your chest forwards to kiss and bite at the supple skin of your ass.

you dig your nails into his thigh in reaction and wiggle your ass in his face teasingly. he takes that opportunity to spank you again, a red hand print blooming on your skin. he puts you back into your original position, pulling you against his chest by putting his hand around your neck, lightly asphyxiating you. “are you ready for my cock baby?” he says, now rubbing his dick against your rim, awaiting your approval.

you nod and you turn to face him and lean in to kiss him for the nth time. while you to kiss sloppily, he directs his cock to your hole and pushes in slowly. you whine into his mouth, gripping onto him aggressively, trying to find a way to distract yourself from the burning stretching pain.

“f-fuck, mingyu holy shit.” you never let go of your grip on him, probably leaving colourful marks that he will have to hide later. you struggle and you try to relax around him, as he is barely half way in you. he grunts into your ear and grips your neck harder. “fucking relax.” he demands and you whine out, closing your eyes and concentrating on relaxing.

sometimes mingyu's large dick could be really exciting when it’s in other places other than your ass, but then again you remember you felt the same way when you first fucked him, with the alternative hole.

once you’re finally relaxed, he easily slides fully into you. you let out a long moan, a hand moving to grip his hair between your fingers.“jesus fuck.” you let out against him, your breathing laboured from the new intense feeling. he smiles again at you reaction, now grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his dick.

he loves how uncensored you can become during sex and always finds it incredibly hot. you feel that he enjoyed that when he twitches inside you. “such a dirty mouth.” he comments and you whimper, moving your hips with his force that pushes them.

he moves his right hand between your legs and goes straight to your dripping core, rubbing over your wet hole, and the left moving to wrap around your waist to hold you flush against him.

his fingers easily slide in. you gasp and turn your head to look between your legs. you were dripping around his fingers, the wetness adding as lubricant.

“you fucking love being filled like this, don’t you?” he nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, simultaneously taking in your scent. he pushes on, his words going straight to your center, making you clench around his digits. you nod your head furiously and he chuckles into your ear.

his cock continues to slide in and out of you, the feeling of him against both your walls being practically euphoric.

his fingers strategically thrust inside of you, his thumb going to your clit and rubbing, causing you to moan out, face contorting out of pleasure.

the sensations were so overwhelming and you already felt yourself coming to your end, legs shaking around him.

his fingers and cock coincidentally hit your spots at the exact same time and you throw your head back onto his shoulder,

“fuck!” you let out, back arching and mouth dropping open. his fingers pick up their pace, his hips too; and you feel your end nearing, body practically on fire as sweat builds everywhere. you moan out his name and a string of curses.

his dexterity is mind blowing, to the way he strategically thrusts his hips up into you, his cock going balls deep into you, and the way his fingers pump at the perfect pace and to his thumb that immediately found your clit, and how he altogether manages to hold you against him. he just focuses on your pleasure, letting you build your release. you tightly clench around him with both holes and suddenly your squirting around his fingers, yours and his thighs, including the sheets, now soaked.

seeing you squirt and your essence falling everywhere, and the moan you were releasing is absolutely sinful and it fuels him as he removes his hands from your core and falls onto his back to start roughly fucking up into you. his feet planted onto the floor and yours beside his thighs. you begin to cry from the overstimulation, entire body shaking from the pleasure.

the both of you have completely lost focus as he chases his high and you slump forward onto his knees, his hands going back to your ass as he spanks it way harder than before and you growl and clench around him, too weak to pull yourself up.

“shit” he loudly rasps out, and you just let him fuck you like a doll, you arching your back for him to get a proper view of your center. he groans out, throwing his head back as his hips stutter. his orgasm creeps up on him and he sweats profusely, the physical activity drenching him, including your juices.

“cum in me.” you weakly command and he complies, holding his hips against your pelvis balls deep inside you. you weakly whimper when you feel his cum shoot deep inside you and your arms give out, falling forward between his legs. he lets his hips fall onto the bed as he slumps against the mattress, his grip on your hips letting up.

you both try to regain composure, closing your eyes and breathing heavily. he makes the first move by sitting up and pulling you up too. you tiredly pull yourself up with him, leaning into his back comfortably. he easily ou je you up to pull himself out of you and seats you on his lap. his body cradles you as he moves his fingers down between your thighs to pick up the excess cum that rests in you.

he brings his soiled fingers to your mouth and you take them in slowly, humming at the taste of the mixture of yours and his cum.

“you’re such a good girl for me.” he praises, and your bliss is ruined when he slaps your pussy unexpectedly. you squeal and close your legs around his hand instinctively.

“did you like it?” he questions, his tone is unmoving and it calms you, your heart rate slowing down again. he strokes your inner thighs calmly and you gulp and close your eyes, nodding in response, to tired to accumulate words. he sighs in content at your answer, letting himself relax with you. everything goes silent, and your warmth radiates off of each other, causing you to both have a light sheen of sweat across the both of you. “are you in pain?” the air is calm and your heart beats are the only noises that you both hear, he snuggles into your neck, inhaling your scent and shake your head no. you feel his body relax from your response, worried that he could’ve possibly hurted you.

the air is silent and still.

“let’s do it again.” the stillness is quickly broken when you finally gain the strength to speak. he quirks and chuckles, moving his mouth to your ear, “think you can take it?” his tone is dark again, as he speaks deep into your ear, causing you to shiver, pussy pulsing again.

“fuck yes.” that was all you had to say for him to shove your face into the mattress with your ass up, immediately starting another round.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

[babybluebex]

washed in the blood [arvin russell x reader]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.8k ➽ summary: based on a request i got but deleted :( “if you’re still taking requests, can i request an arvin russell smut fic based on the scene where he gets picked up, but instead he’s picked up by the reader and her (soon to be) ex, she plans on breaking it off because he’s a sleeze, and arvin notices tension. one thing leads to another, and the two ditch the ex and have sex in the motel room” ➽ warnings: explicit language, ab*se mentions, de*th mentions ➽ a/n: full disclosure, i changed this to not have smut. lol. enjoy!

Hitchhikers were a normal thing for Ohio. In the rural parts, not too many people had cars, and buses didn’t run that far out, so people hitched rides wherever they could. Even if you were fortunate enough to have a car, there was a thrill about sticking your thumb out and seeing who you’d be riding with. My mother always tried to dissuade me from hitchhiking, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, she never said anything about being on the other end of the deal. 

I loved picking up hitchhikers. Most times, they were yippies, trying to make their way to California. Even if you were just going as far as ten miles away from the pickup point, they were thankful. I got along with mostly everyone-- a superpower, my boyfriend called it-- and I could always find something to talk about. Where words failed, the radio helped. Music always got people talking, even if it was to talk about how much they hated the song. 

Meade, Ohio was a quiet place. I grew up there, so I guess that’s why I always talked so much: to fill the perpetual silence. As soon as I graduated from Meade Central High School, I gathered everything I owned (which wasn’t much), and headed out west towards Cincinnati. There wasn’t much there from what I’ve heard, but it had to be better than Meade. If there wasn’t anything for me in Cin City, I would go further west-- Indianapolis maybe, or perhaps further than that to Chicago. To get there, though, I had to get the fuck out of Ohio. 

The smoke from my cigarette danced out of my open window as I drove through the hills. My conversation with my mother was playing like a cracked vinyl in my head, her begging me to stay in Meade. I had asked what was here for me, and my mother had tightened her jaw. “Nothing, I suppose,” she had said. “With an attitude like that, there’s nothing for you anywhere.” With an attitude like mine, I argued back, the whole world was ripe for my taking. My mother had always been controlling. I couldn’t wear pants or smoke or even wear bright makeup, and seeing my friends do all of that and more was tortuous. Of course I loved my mother and knew that she was right, but I wanted to find that out for myself rather than being told that. I crested a hill, the radio crackling in and out as I lost the station, and I saw a man a few yards ahead of me. He held his body like it was a burden, his arm limp as he stuck his thumb out. As my car approached, he turned to look at me, and I slowed to a stop. A moment passed where his eyes locked with mine through the glass windshield, and he rushed to the passenger door. In he came, tossing his knapsack into my backseat, and he huffed out a tired sigh once the door was closed. 

“Where ya headed?” I asked. 

“Umm…” He began. His eyes fell to his lap, looking for an answer, and he finally said, “I dunno.” 

“Right,” I said. “I’m heading to Circleville, so if you got any place between here and there, just let me know.” 

The man nodded slowly. His cheeks were red, his forehead shiny with perspiration, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I… I’m Arvin.” 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Y/N.” I started the car back, continuing my journey to the last destination in my tour of Ohio. My boyfriend had found out about my flee, despite my attempts to try to slip away undetected, and he begged me to meet him in Circleville to at least say goodbye. He went to college in Columbus, hence why I chose Cincinnati instead. There was more in Columbus, but I wanted a place where nobody knew me to start over. “Fiddle with the radio if you want to. I’m not partial to any kind of music.” 

“Me neither,” Arvin said. There was a pause, then he reached forward and began to tune the radio. Channels faded in and out, Elvis and Beach Boys making varied appearances as my radio struggled to pick up a channel for more than a few seconds at a time, and finally it picked up a station. Church hymns. Sure. Arvin seemed satisfied with the selection, because he leaned back, and he tugged his blue baseball cap off. 

I could feel the stiffness radiating off of Arvin, and I rolled my neck as I tried to come up with something to say. I looked at my cigarette, the butt stained with the red lipstick that my mother had forbidden, and I held it out to him. “Want the rest?” I asked. “I’m feeling pretty finished, but I don’t wanna waste it, ya know?” 

“S’long as it ain’t an American Spirit,” Arvin mumbled and let out another huff, more of a laugh than before.

 “God, no!” I chuckled. “What kinda girl do you take me for, sir?” 

Arvin cracked the faintest smile, and he took the cigarette from my waiting hand. “Girls I went to high school with smoked shit like that,” he said and took a drag. “Just making sure I knew who I’m with.” 

“How long ago was that?” I asked. 

“Like…” Arvin began. “May.” 

“This May?” I asked, and Arvin nodded. “Neat. I just graduated too.” 

“Thank God, right?” Arvin mumbled, the cigarette now resting against his bottom lip. “Hated that place. I’d rather go to the fuckin’ war than go back to high school.” 

“Me too,” I said. “I got teased and pushed around all the time. Same for you?” 

Arvin shrugged. “I was fine,” he said. “My little sister, though… She got picked on. I got in trouble a lot for beating up her bullies, or getting beat up by them. I would do that a million more times, though, if it meant I could help her.” 

“How old is she?” I asked. “I only ask ‘cause I got a sister who just started high school.” 

Arvin shifted and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “She was sixteen,” he said. 

“Was?” I repeated. 

“She… Died,” Arvin said. “S’more complicated than that, but…” 

“Jesus Christ, Arv, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That… That really fucking sucks.”

“It does,” Arvin said. “She got killed.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to imagine the grief that this poor man had been through. My own heart hurt just from thinking of it. I would hurt anyone, except for anyone that hurt my sister. “Well,” I sighed. “Do you know who did it?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Arvin laughed. “I know.” 

“Did you go to the police?” I asked. 

“We don’t have police in Coal Creek, West Virginia,” Arvin told me. “Too small for it, and there’s hardly any need for them anyway.” 

I managed a weak laugh. “If I knew who it was that killed my little sister, they wouldn't be alive for much longer after that. I’d kill them myself.” 

Arvin nodded. He said nothing else. 

Eventually, the radio station came in clearer, signaling our entrance into Circleville. My boyfriend had specified where he wanted to meet me, and the gravel of the parking lot crunched under my car as I steered my way into the diner. “It’s been nice meeting you, Arvin,” I said. The brake squealed as I engaged it, and Arvin nodded before pulling his cap further down onto his head. 

“You too,” he said. “I’m gonna grab me something to eat real quick, then I’ll be on my way… Just didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was following you in there.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” I shrugged. “Got any idea of where you’re going now?”

“Not yet,” Arvin said. “I’ll probably hitch a ride somewhere else. Maybe with someone who doesn’t listen to hymns in her free time.” 

“You put the station on!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “Don’t go blaming me!”

“You coulda changed it,” Arvin offered, stepping out of the car. He reached and grabbed his bag, and I rested my arms on the roof of my car. 

“You coulda kept looking for a different station,” I fired back. 

“You coulda kept your big mouth shut about music,” Arvin said. 

“I coulda left your ass on the side of the road,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.” 

Arvin gave me the first real smile I had seen from him, and he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said. “I could argue ‘bout this all day.” 

“You just might be able to,” I said. I grabbed my handbag from the floor of the car, and Arvin walked beside me into the diner. I spotted Harry immediately in the back corner, and I took a deep breath. The whole ride here, I knew that I was planning on ending things with him, but, now that I was here, I was doubting myself heavily. Could I survive in the world without a man there to fall back on? It seemed so impossible all of the sudden. I wanted to back away. Walk backwards and get back in the car and go back home. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from my side, and I turned to see Arvin still standing by me. “Whatever you’re gonna do, I can bet it’s better than anything I’ve ever done.”

“How do you know I’m gonna do anything?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just having lunch with my boyfriend.” 

“Right,” Arvin said slowly. “And that’s why your face went all white when you saw him.” He gave me a pointed look, then a quick wink, and he went to the counter to order. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked as I approached the table he was sat at. No hug or kiss or any greeting that a boyfriend would normally give; just an interrogation. 

“Hitchhiker I picked up,” I said. “We’re gonna head on to Cincinnati once we’re done here.” 

“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Harry sighed. “You’re still on this Cincinnati business?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “It’s the only place for me.” 

“And what about me?” Harry asked. “What about here? We could have a life here, but you--” 

“We sure could have a life,” I told him. “But you have to start it, Harry. I’ve waited for you for years and I’m tired. I want my own life now.” 

“Were we supposed to get married when you were still in high school?” Harry asked. 

“Other girls got engaged,” I said. “Harry, I’m done. I… I don’t want whatever you want to give me. I want to be on my own, make my own name, ya know?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Harry sighed, wiping his hand down his face. 

“I--” I started, then straightened up. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. I’m going to do what I want, and I am not sorry about it. You had your chance, but I’m done.” 

“Done?” Harry scoffed. “You’re not done. Not with me, not now.” 

“Yes, with you,” I said. “And, yes, now. I… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I got up from the table, trying to keep my cool, but Harry had other ideas. 

“No,” he said, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “You’re not leaving me, you bitch.” 

“Watch me,” I told him, and I tried to pry my arm around him. “Let go of me.” 

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry said. “You’ll never survive on your own.” 

“How do we know for sure if I don’t try?” I asked. 

“‘Cause you’re too dumb to anything for yourself,” Harry said. “You know it’s true. You’ll get eaten up in the real world. The world ain’t like Meade, it’s mean and it’ll kill you. You need to settle down with me, and I’ll do everything for you.” 

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Harry,” I said. “Get your stinkin’ hand off of me.”

Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I looked to see Arvin standing there. His face was as hard as stone, his jaw set firmly, and his brown eyes boring deadly holes into Harry. “I think,” he began with his deep gravel. “You oughta leave her alone.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked. “The hitchhiker?”

“I am,” Arvin said. “And I can be a lot worse. Leave her be, and I’ll leave you be.” 

“You’re a funny guy,” Harry chuckled. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s sit down and have some lunch.” 

Arvin was quiet as he pushed his jean jacket aside, and I felt my blood run cold at the sight. Tucked into the waistband of his denim pants was a wooden tool, one that was obviously the butt end of a handgun. Had he had that the whole time? I hadn’t noticed it when he was in the car next to me, but maybe he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “You need to let go of her,” Arvin said. “And let her leave. And you ain’t ever gonna talk to her again.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, it ain’t a threat,” Arvin chuckled lowly. “It’s a promise. I’ve done worse to men better than you.” 

“I bet,” Harry said. “You don’t have the gall to do it.”

“You wanna bet?” Arvin asked. “I’ve had a hard day. You’d make my tally a solid five.” 

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry scoffed. “Y/N--”

“No,” I said quickly. I had no reason to back Arvin on his ridiculous claim, but if it made Harry leave me alone… “Harry. He’s serious. You’re gonna wanna leave.” 

Harry looked from me to Arvin, then down to the gun. “Where did you find him?” Harry asked. 

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “Just go. Don’t call me, don’t worry yourself with me. Just leave me alone.” 

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, huh?” Harry said softly. “I hope y’all find whatever you’re looking for in Cincinnati.” 

“We will,” Arvin said quickly, and he adjusted his jacket to cover the gun once more. “Have a good day now, ya hear?” 

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I moved myself back to the car, and I watched Arvin settle back where he was before the diner. My hand hovered by the ignition, my mind wanting me to put the keys in but my hand refusing to cooperate, and I finally swallowed. “Why you got a gun?” I asked. 

“You heard me,” Arvin said and sniffed. “Killed four people.”

“That’s real funny, Arv, but I’m being serious,” I said. 

“And why do you think I’m not?” Arvin asked. “I don’t care too much for lying.”

“Oh, but you’ll excuse killing?” I gasped. “Arvin, Jesus Roosevelt Christ! You haven’t really killed people, have you?” 

“You told me not an hour ago that you’d kill anyone who hurt your sister,” Arvin said, turning his gaze to me. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I… I don’t know. I just thought… Arvin, that was a joke.” 

“Not to me,” Arvin said. “He was a fucking bastard. He raped my sister and got her pregnant, and he didn’t want nothing to do with her. She trusted him, and he discarded her like trash, and she ended up hanging by her neck in our barn. The world is better off without that horse’s ass.” 

I chewed on my tongue. Was it better to know? Or was this knowledge a curse? I wanted to ask about the others he claimed to have killed; a morbid curiosity. “Get outta my car,” I whispered. Arvin laughed lightly, and I clamped my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not joking, Arvin. Get out.” “

Why?” Arvin asked. “You worried I’m gonna kill you too?” 

“No,” I said. “But I make efforts to not associate with murderers. Get out of my car.” 

“I killed a sheriff too,” Arvin told me. “And two others, but all three of them were tryna kill me, so I think it was mighty justified. What do you think, darling?” 

Heat and ice battled inside my chest. I wanted to kick him out and leave him for the police to find, but I couldn’t do that. We had connected immediately, and there was no telling what else fate had in store for him. He was so obviously hurt. Maybe he needed somebody around. Maybe he wanted somebody around. He seemed to be trying awful hard to keep me around. I pushed, but he pulled. “You might’ve done it, but I can’t say I blame you,” I mumbled. “Still wanting to go to Cincinnati?” 

“Wherever you’re going, I am too.”

[rigelmejo]

notes to myself basically, on how i study languages (so far, there’s always gonna be better ways i don’t know of yet lol):

learn 500-1000 common words asap, read a grammar guide that provides overview asap - like the first 3 months. If a full grammar guide doesn’t exist that’s concise (hi japanese ;-;) find a basics grammar guide at least and read that (pimsleur, websites, genki, tae kim, youtube). Specifically within the common words, at least look at the ‘300 common word tumblr to say things’ language vocab list. That list is good for me starting some kind of active vocab/expressing ideas.

if its got a different writing system, look up the alphabet in 1st month (kana for japanese, cyrillic alphabet for russian etc, pinyin for chinese). listen to pronunciation guides, and write and/or mnemonics to learn those asap.

if its got characters (like chinese, japanese), learn 300-500 super common characters ASAP (first 5 months). 

After month 3, learn up to 2000 common words (hi srs flashcard programs like anki and memrise, common word lists, graded readers), and up to 2000 characters. Not all these need to be done with srs flashcards/focused study, but get TO recognizing this many as soon as u can. Goal is get to this by month 8-10. But depending on how much i can overall understand without doing this, i may not learn All of these words by then (but ideally i should).

By 500-1000 words (and 500+ characters if needed), so after 3-5 months, start trying to immerse in what I WANT to do - so reading, watching (maybe listening, maybe games). I don’t have to do it much, but do it a bit to remember what I learned and also motivate myself to study more.

Months 5-8 somewhere between 1000-2000 words, start trying to write/say basic things to myself or on apps with others. Probably will be a mess, don’t have to do it much. Do it enough to have motivation to study more - see where I’m lacking skills. I may need more grammar explanation, or more vocab, or notice a big issue in my pronunciation etc.

Around month 8-10, around 2000+ words studied (although it may be less or more depending on what I’m comfortable with), ramp up immersion a lot. As soon as its mildly tolerable, ramp it up a LOT. Look up words when immersing as often or not often as desired, goal is to always follow at least the bare minimum main idea (and more details if possible/if I wanna put in the effort to look more up). Now I can start learning new words primarily from this. 

Reading skills - during immersion do intensive reading to learn more vocabulary quicker, extensive reading to improve overall comprehension. Do SRS flashcards/focused graded readers/word-list prep for stuff I read as needed, to speed up how much vocab I learn (if I’m learning too slow for my preference lol). Ways to make extensive reading easier: read graded readers, read show subtitles in target language while watching show, textbooks built to increase info taught in context, read stuff I’ve read translations of first, read stuff I have prior context for (I saw the show/heard already with english transcript etc), Listening reading method, read extensively what I’ve read intensively before etc.

Listening skills - start extensive listening to audio (for overall comprehension improvement). Start intensive listening where I hear words and lookup definition and/or learn word pronunciation with explanations. So start listening to audio flashcards for building a base of learned words/phrases (chinese spoonfed audio files, japanese core 2k audio, japaneseaudiolessons.com, SRS flashcards if they have audio only ones too, Coffee Break French, audio for Francais par le methode nature etc). To make extensive listening easier: start with watching/listening to shows I’ve already seen subs for, shows in general (visual context helps), comprehensible input audio (like comprehensible input french youtube, Learn Korean in Korean youtube, Dreaming Spanish youtube etc), listen with a transcript then listen without, Listening reading method, listen to things I have prior context for like audiobook of something i read/audio drama of show i’ve seen. Do some shadowing (shadowing audio flashcard files is easy and reliable tbh). 

Production skills (I am not here yet) - in general I’ve found making myself write more, talk more, to myself (like journals and practice convos) and to others, tends to improve my active vocabulary. Especially when I try to communicate about topics i’m bad at (so making myself look up those words and write/say them to put them back into active vocab). At this point I’m guessing more explicit grammar drill practice might help, people correcting me, shadowing a lot. Maybe practicing translating to that language/from it, to practice building active vocab? I’m not sure what will help most here tbh as I’ve never gotten far in this area. (For chinese, studying pronunciation more in depth and doing more listening/shadowing, and pronunciation apps, helped a lot with pronunciation itself but not active production yet). 

---

i’m currently mostly just doing 8-9 for chinese right now - building reading skills, building listening skills. Varying what i do. For production skills i’m guessing there’s a ton of varied things i can do right now or later, i’m just not entirely sure what they’d be. i have not tried/troubleshooted those skills much before when studying. All i know for sure is the more i make myself use the language in Varied topics, the more i get an active vocabulary (aka writing journals, making self-convos, and doing language exchanges help in a basic way). No idea how to improve grammar though in ways that’d work well for me. so right now my skills lean heavier toward comprehension, less skill in any production. Studying chinese taught me a lot about how i learn listening skills though...which is valuable as i barely had practice learning HOW to study them when i studied french or japanese before.

troubleshooting wise - this is the rough trajectory i went through in chinese, that has worked okay for me. looking at it helps me see where i ‘slowed down’ my progress in other languages i studied.

for french - i did very LITTLE listening practice, and had few ideas of how to work on it at the time. Now I would probably do listen with transcript then without, and shadowing, to work on listening skills. And watching shows/videos with subtitles (if possible), then without subs. And very little speaking practice - same deal as listening, i did a little at some point realizing it was a weak area but not enough work on it. I also did very LITTLE production practice like language exchanges. i had few reasons to produce language, and so the few times i needed to i could mostly rely on super common words or look things up when writing. i know i’d need to do more to work on production. so i was very unbalanced - large reading comprehension, low pretty much every other skill.

for japanese... i did a lot in retrospect i wish i’d redone different. and i do it different now. i did not read/watch a grammar guide - and i still freaking need to (or at least get clear grammar exposure like nukemarine’s LLJ course’s tae kim portions). japanese has grammar i find very hard to figure-out through exposure so this holds me back a lot. and lack of immersion to both motivate me to study MORE and to practice reading/listening skills. ALSO lack of common words - i learned like 800 hanzi rough-meaning through RTK, and maybe 500 words in genki... and no wonder it wasn’t enough lol! i think nukemarine helped back years ago, because it forced me to study grammar and vocab, listening and reading, in a structured way (similar to how genki helped me in the very start before i quit using it). and japaneseaudiolessons.com helped because it made me practice listening and gave me comprehensible listening with definitions. that in combo with me really starting to immerse and TRY to read/listen at year 2+ is when i finally made some progress because i was doing things that work for me - finally. and now that i’m coming back to japanese, i’m starting to apply all those things again that were finally working. 

---

anyone have any tips on how to improve production skills? Both active vocabulary, and how to both practice speaking/writing broadly AND how to fix grammar errors. 

For active vocab and general writing/speaking I know just talking more/writing more helps. But I can only tend to catch grammar errors if I run it through a translator first to compare how the translator phrases it to how I did (which can create a LOT of errors if the translator is Wrong), or if someone corrects my grammar error (which relies on other people - and preferably a tutor since i dont want to bother people who aren’t paid to correct - so what can i do on my OWN?). 

The big thing is with grammar, I can only think to either go through beginner courses Again from the start and do the writing drills and copy the patterns to internalize them? So I could correct my basic writing/speaking but not necessarily when I start speaking/writing creatively, unless I find textbooks/workbooks that eventually go into intermediate material (and of course finding textbooks/online exercises that provide correct answers so i can compare my attempts to the correct ones). Aside from either a tutor, or trying to find well made free online courses with exercises with answers provided, i’m not sure how to improve grammar production. If I write out sentences i read, would that internalize being able to ‘copy their grammar correctly’ when i write? if i shadow correctly said speeches/videos, would that help drill ‘correct grammar’ when speaking? (And be less boring then doing FSI speech drills). Basically I’m trying to find some ways (creative or not) to improve grammar in production. Improving active vocabulary seems pretty straightforward to me (make myself use it, look up words until they come natural to me - but if u got any other fun ways to improve active vocab i’d love to hear!). But I don’t know how to improve grammar when you are NOT in a class structure, have no teacher/tutor, and already have a base level of comprehension. As in like? I can read fine, but when writing I can’t tell if what I produce is grammatically correct or not - and again I can run it through a translator sometimes to try and ‘check’ but since translators make errors, my ‘corrected example’ isn’t always reliable to use as something to emulate for ‘correct form.’

[dazaiswindow]

ikevamp oc: franz kafka (pt.2)

More elaboration on his background, general idea of how his route would be like and some random headcanons i have about him!

If you haven't read the first part yet, i would recommend reading that first before reading this one, as it would make much more sense

Part 1 // Part 2

By the way, i'll be using the tag '#ikevamp oc' '#my oc' and '#ikevamp franz' for whenever i'm talking or making a post about him!

Background (past life and relationships, why he came back as a vampire, etc.)

a/n: first off, i know cybirb don’t really delve too far into the suitor’s past life and doesn’t even bother to mention their families and wives and/or past relationships, but for the sake of this oc of mine’s story, i am going to mention some parts of the life he led before

In his past, Franz was a German-speaking novelist and short-story writer. His father was abusive and was a tyrant of sorts, with a wicked temper and little appreciation for his son's creative side. His father had a habit of dismissing anything that excited and inspired young Franz, invariably crushing Franz’s interest in pursuing anything.

The reason he agreed to the contract with Comte de Saint Germain in the brink of his death, to come back to live as a vampire in the 19th century Paris, was because he felt he hadn’t lived his life to the fullest, to truly do what he would have wanted to do without the pressure of his father’s oppressive presence in all of his life.

Much of Franz's personal struggles, in romance and other relationships, also came in part from his complicated relationship with his father. In all his first life, he had not known what it’s like to be loved, to be the object of affection, and it was the reason he spent his nights with some of the women of Paris, to seek a fleeting feeling of love and affection in the heat of the moment.

Although, due to the emotional abuse he received in his past life, he had withdrawn himself from emotional attachments, it's not like he's completely isolating himself, in fact he's quite sociable, however, he had sealed his heart from becoming emotionally attached to other people.

Sources: I // II // III

How his route would be like

At first, on the night when mc first arrived at the mansion, he thinks nothing of it, he felt indifferent towards her but still being nice to her out of courtesy, but although he's very kind and friendly towards her, mc could still sense the way he subtly puts a distance between both of them, it's like a transparent wall separating her from truly knowing who he really is.

Wanting to know him better, mc sets out to spend more and more time with him in hopes that he would be able to slowly open up to her and that they could form a true, genuine friendship between them. But with the more time they spend together, and the more he felt comfortable to let himself loose around her little by little, she soon fell in love with him and felt hopeless because she was sure that her feelings would in no way being returned, she never planned to tell him about her feelings and stick to her plan to come back to the time she came from, hoping that she would be able to forget him by doing so.

Little did she know that he also fell in love with her and that he felt conflicted because he's been in denial for the most part of it. He always told himself to stay away from emotional attachment and yet this one was inevitable to him, how very much of a fool he is! Now he feels so emotionally attached to her, knowing that she would soon go back to her own time. Not wanting to put a burden on her, he decided that he would never speak of his feelings and will let her go home without the burden of knowing how he feels towards her.

Of course, all of this plans were thrown out the window when one day, mc suddenly got kidnapped and very surprisingly... the man who kidnapped her turns out to be his own father. Hermann Kafka was supposed to be dead shortly after Franz himself and it was impossible for him to still be alive during this time period, and yet he had come back to life, as a vampire.

He claimed he was brought back by a figure who Hermann refused to tell the name. It was unclear what was the reason that he was brought back to life, but Franz did notice that there was something off about his father, the man in front of him was his father, but at the same time he doesn't sound like his father, it was like someone had took out some parts of him and replaced it with something else.

After some confrontation between Franz and his father, it eventually became clear that Hermann had originally agreed to be turned into a vampire on the edge of his last breath, because he felt that he had been a terrible father to his son, and that he had felt an immense guilt about it for all the time he was confined to his deathbed and wanted to ask Fran'z forgiveness for all his missdoings-- before being manipulated by the person who brought him back as a vampire.

Franz eventually forgave him, and managed to safely bring both mc and himself back to the mansion, where they confessed their feelings to one another in true sincerity and truthfulness, there was no more walls separating them now. Franz asked mc if she wanted to stay with him here in the 19th century, to which mc delightedly said yes.

"You have bring light into my life and saved me from my solitude, from the moment I fell in love with you I knew that I am a changed man. You're meine Schätze and I shall cherish you as such."

(please excuse my attempt at trying to be ✨poetic✨ rip)

Headcanons

This is where all the fun stuffs at! These are not at all related to Franz Kafka's real self and history for once 🤣

Franz likes to play chess and is actually pretty good at it, he plays a lot of games of all kinds with Arthur (board games, card games, etc.) but the only time Arthur had ever felt on edge is whenever they’re playing chess together (Franz has not beat him yet but Arthur is convinced that he could do it one day).

As i have mentioned on the previous post, Franz has a great amount of respects towards Napoleon, and he’s lowkey a Napoleon fanboy, sometimes he and Sebas would gush talk about Napoleon (in a good way ofc) together in their free time, it could vary between his legacy during the Napoleonic Wars or even something as simple as what has Napoleon been up to today.

Has a pet red fox which he named Robin (okay idk if the disney version of Robin Hood was already invented during the time in which ikevamp took place in —it was invented on 1973— but pls for the sake of this just pretend that it already was 😂).

In the previous post, i've also mentioned that he’s not really comfortable around Theo, tbh it’s mainly because he doesn’t quite know how to act around him, Franz tried striking a conversation with him once and Theo’s replies were short and snarky (tbh just how Theo usually talks lol), it ended up being so awkward.

He acts very naturally around girls, what i mean is, when Arthur's way of attracting girls is by complimenting and flirting with them, Franz is more like being abundantly nice and sweet towards them, like paying close attention when they're speaking, offer to escort them someplace, etc., it's not that he's manipulative, but he's just a genuinely nice and courteous person, and girls flock to him naturally.

He's very soft spoken, ok i know i don't watch a lot of animes but listen-- i think Yuki Kaji's voice when he's voicing Kou Mabuchi from Ao Haru Ride would be close to what i imagined his voice would sound like! That voice but with a little more light-hearted tone !!

He and Dazai sometimes exchange ideas about writings, or just recommend each other's a weekly book to read, both of their works tend to take on a more depressive themes, they really have a lot of ideas to exchange and talk about lol.

[fandom-blackhole]

Hayloft- Ezra x Reader P.5

AN: After a bit of waiting here it is!!!! Part 5! I really love this chapter, so much so that I haven’t really edited it because I wanted to share it with you guys lol. So if you see something that doesn’t look right please tell me! Love you guys and I hope you like this chapter!

Masterlist

Words: 3.8k (almost 3.9k....this is the most I have written for one chapter lol)

Warnings: AFAB reader, descriptions of depression, mentions of attempted assault, this chapter gets a little spicy at the end so 18+ just to be safe?, that’s it we are back to fluff lol

According to the town doctor, Ezra had managed to break Tucker’s nose, two of his teeth, and fracture one of his eyesockets, while he himself on managed to get a bruised jaw, and swollen bloody and bruised fist. I, on the other hand, only suffered from a bruised forehead and cheek, miscellaneous scratches, and a bloody nose. 

It had only taken about fifteen minutes before Anthony had been sent by my father to go looking for Tucker and Ezra. When he found the three of us, I am sure the scene in the barn was quite a shock. I wish I could say that I had seen his face when he realized what he was looking at, but by the time he had made his way to the back of the barn I had buried my face into Ezra’s neck as he held me and rocked us both trying to calm me down. I had heard Anthony coming, but I was too scared to look up, only clutching at Ezra’s torn shirt. 

I did nothing but cling to Ezra as he told Anthony what he had stumbled upon and what he had done, spitting venomous words in Tucker’s direction and holding me close. Anthony didn’t say much and he only really grabbed my shirt that had been thrown aside and brought it towards where we both sat in the corner. Anthony had placed my shirt gently in my lap and gave me a small kiss on the top of my head, which in turn caused me to start crying again, and he then went and grabbed Tucker’s legs and dragged him out of the barn telling the two of us to that he was going to get father. 

Ezra had slowly helped me to my feet and into my shirt, before grabbing my face and kissing the tears from my cheeks. Then he lead me from the barn slowly with his hand resting on the small of my back as my arms crossed across my torso holding myself tightly, my eyes not leaving the ground. 

The rest of the day passed in pretty much a blur. I barely remember the doctor coming for a visit, I don’t remember how I got to the house, let alone into my room, and I don’t remember when I fell asleep. 

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Once again I found myself staying in the house doing small tasks away from the others. The difference, though, was this time it was self imposed. I just couldn’t find it in me to make my way outside and be around the others. Especially knowing that I wouldn’t be able to interact with Ezra in the way that I wanted too, the way I needed too. So instead, I stayed inside and cleaned things that didn’t need to be cleaned, organized things that were already organzied, and cooked meals. I threw myself into anything that could distract me from the events that felt like had left a scar on my very soul. I felt broken and dirty, even though I knew that nothing had really happened. But, the thoughts and feelings of uselessness just wouldn’t fade and the crept into my every waking moment. 

The only good that had come from the whole situation was that my father had taken to letting Ezra eat with the rest of us again. It was only then, when Ezra sat across from me with his easy smile and flourishing words that I would truely feel safe, and those thoughts that refused to leave me alone would fade to a static in the back of my head. Instead they were replaced with Ezra speaking openly as Anthony asked him questions, and my head was only full of the the sight of Ezra’s soft obsidian eyes swirling with the galaxies and stars he had seen on his adventures and his soft oddly soothing accented voice. My father always stayed quiet during meals only eating and maybe giving a small grunt if asked a question. My father even stayed quiet as each night Ezra would softly ask about my day and how I was feeling. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

Things weren’t okay, but things were finally getting better.

Roughly two weeks after everything had happened with Tucker I had managed to get myself to do the laundry. What had finally pushed me to fill the tub with steaming water and get the soaps out was when I noticed that Ezra had been wearing the same clothes for the at least last three days if not longer.

It had taken all morning to get all of my father’s and Anthony’s clothes clean and hung onto the clothes line beside the house. After a short water break, I got to work on my clothes all the while keeping an eye out and taking note of any clothes that needed mended. My father had a couple of shirts with small tears along the seam, Anthony per usual had managed to tear the pockets on his pants and was missing a button on one of his shirts, while I only had a small tear on the back of my favorite shirt from where it had caught a lose nail.

Once I had hung my clothes to dry, I reached for Ezra’s to place them in the tub only to stop short. Ezra, when we had walked from town to the farm, had only been carrying a small sack in which he only could hold two or three pairs of clothes, at most. Looking at the shirt in my hand now, I was surprised the shirt was still in one piece. The shirt was thread bare from what I could only assume was years of use, it had several holes running along the bottom part of the left sleeve as well as wear on the right, and a few along the bottom hem in the front. The other shirt he had in there was worse for wear, having a huge tear near the neck from the fight with Tucker. The pants weren’t much better, the knees rubbed thin from years of kneeling on rough surfaces and the cuffs were scuffed and held several holes of varying sizes, not to mention the sizable hole that was in the crotch of the pants, that only served to turn my face red once I had noticing it, and caused me to wonder how he had managed to hide the hole without anyone noticing. 

I washed Ezra’s clothes carefully with a frown, not wanting to cause more harm, all the while trying my best to remove as many stains as possible. As I was hanging the tattered clothes on the clothes line next to mine I couldn’t help but to wonder when the last time Ezra had bought himself new clothes, because it was obvious on both shirts that he had them both when he still had his other arm. 

Shaking my head, I smoothed my hand over the shirt I had just washed with a sad smile before an idea caused me to hurriedly clean up the washing tub and put away the soaps quickly. Once back in the house I went to my room and grabbed my small sewing kit, as well as my button tin placing them onto my bed, before turning to my dresser and biting my bottom lip.

When my father had finally figured out that Joshua had left the farm for good he had gone into a blind rage and had made the decision to remove and sell everything he had left behind in his room. He started with the bigger things like his bed and the small desk he had made himself for Joshua. Then he got rid of the small dresser and all of Joshua’s small little nick nacks. When all that was left was Joshua’s clothes my father had marched out of the house and made a bonfire towards the back of the farm. When I had realized what he was doing, I had grabbed what I could without it being obvious and had hid them in the bottom of my dresser under my underclothes, knowing that my father would never look in that drawer.

Now, I reach inside and grab the three shirts, two long sleeved and one t-shirt, and a pair cargo pants. The shirts, while they didn’t have holes, it was obvious that they were second hand, as they each had their own signs of wear, but they were each still in much better condition than what Ezra owned now. 

Turning to my bed, with my lip still between my teeth I gently laid the clothes onto my bed before taking a deep breath and getting to work. It hurt slightly knowing that by doing this I was erasing some of the few reminders of Joshua I still had in my life, but I knew in my heart that this more important than letting the clothing items waste away in my dresser. For the two long sleeved shirts, I took the right sleeve and cut it down and sewed it closed so that Ezra wouldn’t have to worry about pinning them up anymore, and for the pants I made it so that the waist was adjustable so that if he needed to he could tighten them or loosened them, because I wasn’t sure how well, or if, the pants would fit him. As for the t-shirt, I didn’t really do anything to it beyond mending the tear along the left side that I hadn’t noticed until I had went to refold it. 

The next morning after breakfast I had gone outside and collected the clothes folding and mending them. My father’s and Anthony’s, I left on their beds, and mine I put away, but I left Ezra’s pile of clothes neatly folded on my bed. That night at dinner I had smiled and talked a little more than I had in the last few weeks. It was obvious that Ezra was also in a good mood, and he kept meeting my eyes and smiling at me when my cheeks would turn slightly red. 

My father had went to bed almost as soon as Ezra had left the house. As I did the dishes, Anthony had come up behind me offering to dry them and put them away. I had only smiled and handed him the towel. We stayed silent as we finished the few dishes that were left. As I was drying my hands, I jumped a little when Anthony broke the silence saying my name. When I looked up at him he looked me in the eye and took a deep breathe before quietly asking, “When you leave, tell me so I can say goodbye, okay?”

Shocked I could only nod, looking back into his eyes as he stared into mine. He gave me a small smile and then he left the kitchen and I listened as he walked up the stairs and into his room. I stood there for a few minutes trying to really process what had just happened. I must have stood there longer than I had thought because by the time I had moved up to my room and looked out the window the sun was completely gone from the sky and two of K-5’s moons at already risen. 

Walking to my bed I grabbed the stack of Ezra’s clothes, both new and old, and turned to quietly walk out of the room, only stopping at my dresser and grabbing the bundle of flowers I had found on the floor of the spare room and placing them on top of the folded clothes in my hands. 

Creeping out of the house and into the barn was a new experience. I was used to sneaking around, and until about a month or so I had thought that I had perfected it. But, something about sneaking around outside felt different and it made me more paranoid than usual. Finally reaching the barn didn’t help matters, either. The main area of the barn felt as though it held unimaginable horrors in every dark corner, making me jumpy and scared for what I knew was nothing. Slowly, I made my way to the latter that lead to where I knew Ezra was, all the while my ears were alert and listening for any noise, nothing but the wind could be heard though. 

Once in the hayloft I relaxed slightly, not completely though, and scanned the small area, squinting and trying to find Ezra. With my first scan of the area I didn’t see him so I stepped further into the hayloft, the small amount of hay that was up there crunching under my feet. This time as I scanned the area, I whispered out Ezra’s name, too scared to raise my voice any higher. At what I can only assume to be the sound of his name being called, I heard Ezra rustling behind me, and right as I turn in the direction of the sound I heard him call out, “Flower, is that you? Truly you? Because I must confess that I have had many dreams of this situation only to wake aching to hold you and hear your voice. And at this point if you are just another of my my traitorous mind’s illustrious illusions, I might have to break into the house and visit you myself…”

Sighing and smiling at Ezra’s confession all I could do was walk towards where his voice came from. Once I reached him I could see the melancholic look in his eyes in the low light of the small lamp he had lit after hearing my voice. After taking him in for a second, I shyly looked to the floor and bit my lip before clearing my throat.

“I, um… I brought you your laundry. And I hope you don’t mind but I also fixed them up to the best of my abilities, I’m not exactly a seamstress but the holes and tears are closed….”

Smiling Ezra held his hand out and helped me sit across from him on the floor of the hayloft. After sitting I slowly passed the clothes to him chewing on my bottom lip in anticipation of what his reaction would be to both his clothes and the new items I had made for him. Ezra’s first reaction was to small and take the flowers, reaching across and placing them behind my ear with a soft, ‘there, perfect’. Then we sat in silence as Ezra meticulously looked over his clothes with a small loving smile, and when he got to the new clothes the smile turned into more of a confused one as he looked up at me. 

“Flower, you claim not to be a seamstress, but this stitching is as close to perfect as anyone would get, I don’t think anyone would think that there was even hole in any of these garments. For Kevva’s sake you even found and patched that embarrassing hole in the intimate areas of my pants that I have until now successfully and embarrassingly hidden from you and the other two. But, flower, I do think you may have mixed some of either your Father’s or your brother’s clothing in with mine, for I know without a doubt these are not mine.”

Looking down messing with my nails in my lap I quietly answered, “Well, you see...I noticed your clothes were, um, well for lack of a better term, worse for wear, and I had some of Joshua’s old clothes so I thought I would fix them up for you. Modify them slightly to fit you better.”

As I spoke, I could see Ezra sorting through the new clothes, unfolding them to inspect them. Slowly I raised my head to watch him as he rubbed the cloth between his thumb and forefinger. I watched as he realized that I had patched the right sleeves to fit what was left of his missing limb. And I watched as his eyes met mine, with a look in them that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

Getting embarrassed I looked back down at my lap and finished what I was saying with a quick, “I only modified the new cloths because I didn’t want to mess with your clothes just in case you didn’t like the modifications, and if you don’t like it I can, I can just take them back to the house. You don’t have to kee-”

“You would have to pry this gratuitous gift from my cold dead hands, flower. These are………. Flower, I am a man of many words and you have managed to take them all away from me with this small, but pure, act of kindness. I must admit that I had not gotten new clothing for myself in quite some time, while it be because of self loathing or because I didn’t see the point in new clothes if they were to only end up like the ones I have now, I am not sure. But these are more than what I could ask for. Precious flower you really though of everything when getting these ready for me, didn’t you? Kevva above, what did I do in a past life to deserve your absolute beauty and kindness because gods know that I didn’t do anything good enough for you in this one.”

Laughing quietly, I could only shake my head as my eyes started to get watery. Looking back up at Ezra, I was only met with a gaze that held so much emotion that it almost hurt to return. Ezra then set the clothes to the side and moved closer to me, our knees pressed against each other, and he reached his hand out, pressing it into the side of my neck with a sigh. 

“Flower, I must admit that it was starting to get to hard for me not to reach arcoss that damned table at meals and just touch you. I have missed your touch more than I ever thought possible. This time without your touch made walking through a desert without water seem much more comfortable and appeasing. Seeing you so close, and not being able to have you has torn this old prospector’s heart and soul to shreds. Darling precious flower, please allow me the salvation that is your lips on mine, for I think a second longer without them might spell my death.”

Laughing again at Ezra’s dramatics, I lean towards him only to to feel his hand pull me as close as possible as he crashes his lips against mine. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped me as my lips met his in a kiss that felt like Ezra was trying to devour my very being. Ezra’s hand moved to the back of my neck, his fingers sinking into my hair. My own hands finding their way onto Ezra’s chest and into the hair above his ear, as he pressed his tongue against mine deepening the kiss. 

By the time we seperated both of our chests were heaving for breathe, and I finally noticed that at some point during the kiss we had moved closer, I had ended up on Ezra’s lap with my legs wrapped around his waist. 

Ezra smiled blissfully up at me and nudged my nose with his own, and when he spoke I could feel his breath fan aross my kiss swollen lips, “Thank you, flower, I can say that after a kiss like that, I don’t think I am going to die on you anytime soon.”

“So you are saying that one was enough? You don’t need anymore?”

Laughing, Ezra pulled back far enough to meet my eyes. “One, will never me enough with you, my sweet flower. You are as addicting as any forbidden substance and you should come with a warning for the weary travels like me.”

Before I could so much as laugh, Ezra connected our lips into another heart achingly passionate kiss. His hand moved from my neck to rub up and down my back and pulling me closer so that our chests are pressed tightly against one another. Using my leg to press closer to Ezra, I without realizing ground down onto him which pulled a gasp from me and a groan from him as Ezra bucked his hips up into mine allowing me to feel just how excited he was to see me. 

Ezra pulled away from the kiss then and placed his hand onto my hip as he looked into my eyes with a serious expression and in the most serious voice I have ever heard him use he asked, “Flower, I need to know now if you want this, because if you say yes I would love to do nothing more than to worship every last part of you, and treat you like the absolute goddess that you are. But, if you do not want this, I understand. Afterall it was only a few weeks ago that-”

“Please, don’t talk about it… I.. I want this, Ezra,” and looking him dead in the eye I spoke quietly, “Ezra, please make me forget. Make me forget anything but you.”

With the consent that he was hoping and praying for, Ezra jumped into action pressing me off his lap and laying me onto the soft, but scratchy hay. Slowly he made good on his promise to worship my body. Slowly removing my clothes and revealing my body to him. He kissed, sucked, massaged, and marked every part of my body making me squirm for him.

When he undressed, he kissed me slowly and allowed me to run my hands over him, as he groaned and sighed at my touches. Once he had gotten impatient with only soft touches, he deepened the kiss as he pleasured me with his beautifully calloused and rough fingers, drawing out the first of many orgasms. After his fingers he followed with his mouth, making me moan and whine his name as he brought me to my peak as many times as I allowed him to, until I had to push his head away, too sensitive from his ministrations. 

Moving back up my body, Ezra kissed me slowly as I came down from the high that he had thrown me into, all the while still stroking my body in anyway he could. Once I had caught my breath, Ezra moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “Are you sure you want this?”

And with a nod, because he had taken all my ability to speak anything but his name, he pulled back and sat on his knees as he pulled my hips and angled them, with my help, before he slowly pressed himself into me. I had been with a few boys from my planet, but they couldn’t compare to in any way to how full Ezra made me feel once he was seated fully inside of me. Moaning his name, all I could do was clutch at the hay that surrounded me as Ezra made love to me until we were both more than exhausted. 

Laying in the hayloft with Ezra’s head resting on my heart, I had never felt more loved or happy or safe in my life. And all I could do was wish that this feeling or this moment would never end.

(Per usual THANK YOU for reading!! Every single one of you mean so much to me! All feedback is welcome, I especially love hearing your thoughts about the last chapter! Reblogs really help with spreading the story, so if you don’t mind, please reblog? And if you would like to be added to the taglist just shoot me an ask and I’d be more than happy to add you! I hope you guys have a lovely week and I’ll see you with the next part!)

Tags: @babybelou​ @farrvey​ @anatanotegami​ @revolution-starter​​ @cadelinhadopedropascal​​ @lucifurrr​ @coolfishoperatoreagle @pugdalorian @callsigncatfish​ @marydjarin​ @jeeperky​

(Marked out people on the taglist, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Sorry!)

[amphtaminedreams]

The Women of Euphoria and Personal Style: Lookbook no.8

Hi to anyone reading,

I hope you’re well considering everything going on! It feels weird to want to talk about fashion or TV shows or red carpets or whatever when 90% of my Google searches are COVID-19 related but there you go. It’s all about trying to power through as normal (minus the social interaction) and pretend the world isn’t ending, right? Queue nervous laughter.

And as if things aren't shitty enough, production of season 2 of Euphoria has been postponed until further notice. 

Okay, in the grand scheme of things, having to wait a bit longer for a TV show isn’t catastrophic but it does just about sum up the transition from 2019 to 2020 thus far that after HBO redeemed itself by broadcasting Euphoria in the summer following an ending to Game of Thrones that has made the whole series unrewatchable, the glimmer of hope in me reignited by the prospect of series 2 this year has been quickly dashed. 2021, I’m rooting for you, because it doesn’t seem like things are getting better any time soon, and in all seriousness, I think everyone needs a break from the collective suffering of the last few months.

For me (and undoubtedly for many others if the hundreds of makeup looks and styling videos are anything to go by), Euphoria’s effect on the world of fashion and beauty is unprecedented. I really can’t recall a TV show in living memory that has had as much of an impact on the way young people dress. I mean, this might partially be because the style of the characters already kind of caters to and draws from the target audience but also, aside from Blair Waldorf did anybody really give THAT much of a fuck about what anybody in Gossip Girl wore?

The draw of the styling on Euphoria is that it has something for everyone. The style of each of the main girls, Rue, Kat, Maddy, Jules and Cassie, all of whom I’ve attempted (emphasis on attempted!) to base (emphasis on base!) outfits around, is varied and distinctive but still so current and realistic at the same time. It’s also consistent; even if you don’t own the specific pieces worn by any of them, similar shapes and details reoccur enough in different looks throughout the series that it’s not hard to create an outfit which matches your favourite character’s overall vibe without buying anything new. That’s kinda what I have attempted to do here and without further ado, I’m gonna get on with it! First up:

Jules (Played by Hunter Schafer)

When it comes to whose style is the most experimental, Jules is the obvious answer. A lot of her outfits are what I imagine a cartoonist in the near-distant future will envision their cool girl protagonist wearing. Whilst her ensembles are generally whimsical and girly for the most part, there’s usually a few slightly punk-ish finishing touches thrown in there too be it through chunky shoes or bold makeup or that incredible mesh trench coat she wears in the series finale with the trans symbol on the back which, honestly, deserves a moment of silence. 

There are definitely nods to current fashion trends sprinkled throughout her wardrobe too. I'm not going to lie, despite someone at work seemingly thinking it was an insult to tell me I look like someone who does (I still don’t know but this person has a Rick and Morty keyring so I don’t give it too much weight), I’ve never watched any anime. BUT, that being said, given the abundance of anime screenshots posted by all these aesthetic oriented Instagram and Tumblr moodboard accounts, I have a vague idea of what some of the more iconic characters look like and a lot of Jules’ looks seem to be very much modelled after or at least inspired by them. In a way, I see a lot of her looks as a blend between modern “e-girl”, Y2K skater chick (yes, I’m thinking early Avril Lavigne), and 2013 Tumblr “hipster” a la 2014 Joanna Kutcha and Charlie Barker, and though on paper that sounds like a nightmare combination, it works. I know-if that sentence were a Depop description I would’ve just gained 30 followers.

When it comes to my own interpretation of Jules’ style, it’s definitely something I like to channel when I’m putting together a proper OUTFIT outfit. Meaning an outfit I actually put effort into and thus will most likely want to get a good photo in, lol. The way her character dresses is almost quite Christopher Kane in that it’s fresh and unusual but still understated enough that I wouldn’t walk into a room wearing any of these feeling like I’m doing a Rick Owens runway.

I’m not TOO far out of my comfort zone but still at the same time, I’d be trying something new and maybe a little bit more zany than I'm used to. As for noting where any of these pieces are from, only a few have been bought in the last 6 months, but from left to right clockwise I have marked out those that have in case they’re still available (though be wary of the fact that it seems a lot of online clothes stores are still forcing warehouse employees to work in close confines at the moment and so perhaps aren’t operating the most ethically):

LOOK 1

Corset-Jaded London

Shoes-TK Maxx

LOOK 2

Dress-Motel Rocks

Boots-Koi Vegan Footwear

LOOK 3

Dress-Jaded London

LOOK 4

Dress-Jaded London

Beret-Ebay

LOOK 5

Beret-Ebay

LOOK 6

Mesh Top-Depop

Hair Clips-Urban Outfitters

Kat (Played by Barbie Ferreira) 

Eurgh, Kat. 

I LOVE THIS BITCH.

If I had to choose my favourite character in the show, it would be a very close toss-up between her and Rue, and though I think Rue might just about nab the top spot for her relatability factor, Kat is the girl I want to be or wish that I had been when I was at school. I mean, there’s definitely an argument to be made in that a lot of what she’s doing with her cam work could be seen as a means of validation (Sam Levinson has basically said everyone on the show has some kind of an unhealthy coping mechanism and I would guess due to the circumstances in which her cam girl career was borne and the fact she’s underage, this would be hers) but I do think in other ways we really see Kat reclaim her power and recognise herself for the smart, capable, gorgeous woman that she is. Honestly, the definition of divine feminine energy, and I would completely let Barbie Ferreira/basically Kat if she was also actually 23 dominate me.

Plus! Her! Style! Is! The! Bomb! Definitely the easiest character to base looks around because if I’m totally honest Kat’s energy is pretty much just what I want to emulate in every day life. 

It’s either pieces that are typically feminine, cutesy, and even slightly preppy at times drenched in everything grunge OR vice versa where you have something semi-gothic and then add a colourful, more playful touch in there that harks back to the beginning of the series before Kat had began to explore her identity and sexuality and dressed slightly more Forever 21.

I’d say, not yet with my whole chest, that on a good day the outfits I put together when making an effort aren’t too far off something Kat would wear, minus the more overtly BDSM touches; if wearing a ring choker in London is enough to get me a creepy comment from a gross middle aged shopkeeper (because I apparently forfeited my right not to be perved on when I decided to buy a bottle of Oasis summer fruits), then you can only imagine the kind of looks wearing a full-on harness would get in my conservative OAP dominated hometown. Not the most doable right now, especially considering the only time I get out is to work and to go for a run. The chafing I could deal with but the horrified glares of pensioners whose M&S prawn mayo sandwiches I’ve ruined by simply being in their eyesight not so much.

LOOK 1-

Corset-Urban Outfitters

LOOK 2-

Bodysuit-Depop

Skirt-Zara

Harness-Ebay

LOOK 3-

Co-ord-Depop

Lace-up Corset-Missguided

LOOK 4-

Dress-Vintage

LOOK 5-

Belt-Ebay

LOOK 6-

Coat-Topshop

Dress-Jaded London

LOOK 7-

Fishnet Top-Ebay

Skirt-Urban Outfitters

Maddy (Played by Alexa Demie)

Not gonna lie, I was kind of scared to do Maddy. I’m scared to be posting this, lol! Alexa Demie has played this character for a single season and she’s already one of the most iconic women to grace our screens in years. This is a huge undertaking and I don’t have the bank balance or the body confidence (lmao) to raid IAmGia. 

And this is where I want to stress: THESE ARE NOT OUTFIT RECREATIONS. THESE ARE INSPIRED BY. I HAVE ADDED ELEMENTS OF MY OWN STYLE INTO THEM. PLEASE DON’T DRAG ME. I KNOW, I’M NOT ALEXA DEMIE. I WOULD NEVER ASSUME TO BE ALEXA DEMIE. I’M NOT ABOUT TO TAKE THE LORD’S NAME IN VAIN LIKE THAT. So now we’ve got that out the way (wipes bead of sweat off forehead), let’s continue. 

Everything about Maddy Perez is extra. She has very much been established as a centre of attention character, and her outfits are a key part of that. They’re daring, they’re hyper-feminine, and they are always glamorous. We’re told that she competed in beauty pageants when she was younger and it’s clear that level of excess and coordination and glitz and all-round-boujeeness wormed its way into her DNA during that time. Even the “depression” outfit she wears to school following Nate becoming violent at the fair is costume-like, a 2019 Bratz doll Off-White street style collaboration.

Do you know how HARD I had to try to be HOT!? For these photos. Alexa Demie is one of those blessed women who doesn’t have to try at all, and that translates into the character completely. At any given moment, Maddy could add or remove one item or clothing and be let straight into the VIP section of a club, and that, honestly, is inspiring to us all in these dark times. 

One thing I tried to keep in mind is that she always looks polished and coordinated, I.E the kind of look I would prepare for a night out is something Maddy would wear on an average day. Co-ords and delicate prints seem to be more subtle wardrobe staples along with mesh and PVC and glitter and feathers and fur and basically anything that toes the line between expensive looking and tacky. Yes, I am aware we may toe different sides of that line but please let me stay delusional and believe that’s not the case for 5 minutes. Much appreciated xoxo

LOOK 1-

Bodysuit-Jaded London

LOOK 2-

Bralette-Depop

LOOK 3-

Co-ord Suit-Boohoo

Bodysuit-Boohoo

LOOK 4-

Dress-Motel Rocks

Shoes-Schuh

LOOK 5-

Bodysuit-Zaful

Trousers-Depop

Coat-Topshop

LOOK 6-

Dress-Zaful

Belt-Zaful

LOOK 7-

Top-Jaded London

Hair Clips-H&M

Rue (Played by Zendaya Coleman)

I have a complicated relationship with Rue as a character. When I started season 1 of Euphoria, I was like “Oh my god, this girl is the worst. Jesus, she’s so negative and draining and willingly self-destructive and-”

Then, oh my god is this what it’s like to live with me!?

I will say, to my own credit, that I don’t think I've ever been quite as hard to deal with as Rue (a lot less smashing stuff up and a lot more moping), and to HER credit, by the end of the season we come to realise she’s been through a fucking lot and so it makes sense, but wow. I don’t think I have ever seen a teen show handle drug abuse and mental illness in such a brutal way. It’s quite a talent to be able to show a character cause so much pain to those closest to them and yet do so through a sympathetic lens. And issues aside, whether it’s her occasional social awkwardness or her relationship with her family or watching bloody Love Island (still quite surreal to see Zendaya Coleman witnessing the Amy/Curtis drama unfold), Rue is just my favourite character to follow. 

Her style, though. AH. The thing is, I can hardly drag it, because it’s pretty much what I wear when I’m moping about the house-or just any time I can get away with it to be honest-to a T. I want to stay true to character, but that being said, creating a “Seth Rogen”-esque outfit that’s worth posting on here is difficult. So, with the same kind of artistic license that had me wearing berets whilst cosplaying Maddy Perez, here is the best I could do:

I know, I know, it’s probably too much colour and jewellery for Rue but this is as toned down as I could do and I tried to stick with the key silhouettes we see from her throughout the season; I mean, I can’t see her wearing leopard print but the structure of the coat in outfit 1 is very similar to the one seen in Shook Ones pt.II. I think the bottom line when it comes to her character is keeping things effortless and not overly-feminine; you want to mix street style, athleisure and your dad’s wardrobe favourites like your life depends on it. Plus messy hair and smudged makeup, both of which I’ve already got down according to the completely inappropriate number of customers who’ve asked if I'm tired at work so thanks for that guys, and glitter tears. Lots and lots of glitter tears.

OUTFIT 1-

Dungarees-Vintage

OUTFIT 2-

Trousers-Depop

Cardigan-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 5-

Beanie-Depop

OUTFIT 6-

Shirt-Boohoo Man

Sports Bra-TK Maxx

Trousers-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 7-

Shirt-Jaded London

Cassie (Played by Sydney Sweeney)

Style-wise, Cassie is a hard one. When putting outfits for her character together, I found myself gravitating towards a direction that’s probably a bit too bohemian for her character, under the guidance of loose terms like “girl-next-door”, “floaty”, “delicate”, you get the idea. She definitely feels the least fully-realised in terms of all the main girls and I think it’s fair to say she’s probably got a bit of self-discovery to do. Most of her storylines in the season are dictated by her relationships to other people: McKay, Maddy, Lexie, her parents and so on. 

Nevertheless, I tried to stick to the airier, more traditionally “pretty” pieces whilst still channelling the confidence and ease with which Cassie pulls them off. Sydney Sweeney has the most incredible figure and I feel like whilst the clothes the on-set stylists put her in flatter that and don’t hide anything, they’re still the focus. It doesn’t feel like there’s anything more inherently sexual about her character than any of the other main female characters despite the way the men within the narrative view her, and I think it’s a testament to the the wardrobe department that to me she still gives off big modern Disney princess energy and a certain innocence even whilst we hear her being continuously sexualised by her male peers. 

If anything, Cassie probably dresses the most like an actual teenage girl, and her style, whilst less distinctive than the other girls, still does a good job of capturing the youth and romanticism of her character. 

The colour palette of her wardrobe tends to be quite neutral, with a couple of pastels thrown in there, and if there are any details, they’re usually quite dainty. Similarly, Cassie is probably the least experimental when it comes to her makeup; we don’t really see her wearing the bold eyeshadows or liners or gems like the other girls at any point.

OUTFIT 1-

Bodysuit-Motel Rocks

Hair Clips-Bershka

OUTFIT 2-

Dress-Jaded London

OUTFIT 3-

Trousers-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 4-

Top-Urban Outfitters

Hairband-H&M

`OUTFIT 5-

Top-Urban Outfitters

Jeans-Zaful

Headband-Primark

OUTFIT 6-

Top-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 7-

Dress-Urban Outfitters

Hair Clips-Boohoo

SO, I guess that’s it for my Euphoria lookbook! As always, let me know what you think (nicely pls, my ego is fragile lol) and I’d love to hear your opinions on the show too! I really haven’t got this excited over a new TV show in ages and I just think that it does everything so excellently-from the writing to the cinematography to the soundtrack, you can tell each element is so carefully and purposefully constructed. It immerses you into the dramatic highs and lows of being a teenager in a way I haven’t seen since UK Skins and I never thought I’d watch a show which held a candle to that. 

In terms of what I’m doing next, I’ve got a very delayed fashion week masterpost in the works as well as something to fill the Met Gala shaped hole in our lives, which I hope to get up over the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, if you read to the end, THANK YOU! And I hope you’re staying safe and AT HOME where possible. I know this self-isolation feels never-ending and if I’m honest, it is having a hugely negative effect on my mental health, but NHS staff are doing their very best with the shitty recourses they have and whilst it seems that our government have thrown workers under the bus once again, we can all do our bit to combat that by slowing the spread of the virus. Also thank you to anybody who’s out working now in such a scary and uncertain time! I work at a grocery store and can say from experience that the best way to show this thanks is just through kindness and following employee’s instructions without giving them grief for it. Everyone’s scared right now and the best we can do is pull together and look out for each other, as difficult as that might seem at times.

Anyway, sorry for the ramble, and like I said, stay safe! Thanks once again if you read til the end or even if you’re just here for the photos. Appreciate it more than you know either way!

Lauren x

[heli0s-writes]

The Thief

Summary: Where do all of Bucky’s shirts keep disappearing to?  Pairing: Reader x Bucky A/N: 2.1k word count. Silliness, fluff. Posters from the fic LOL

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

Bucky is missing another shirt on Saturday morning. He rifles through his closet, slapping the hangers to the left and down the pole where they clack against each other fearfully. Last week, this happened too. His favorite red Henley with the threadbare hem and black buttons— all day he had searched for it until—

Oh.

With a slightly exasperated groan and a backwards tilt of his head, he closes the closet door. Quietly, he slips out of his room and down the silent hallway until the chatter of voices from the kitchen meets his ears.

Wilson stands at the stove top, flipping pancakes the size of plates— heavy, thick, wheat ones, overloaded with blueberries. Steve is to his side, pouring milk and stealing fruit when Sam isn’t looking. Natasha is perched on the counter, sipping black coffee.

And then, his eyes skip over to the dining table where a pair of delicate feet are propped up on the glass, toes tapping off-beat to a tuneless song.

You.

No matter how many times Tony and Steve tell you to stop putting your feet on the table, you still do— almost out of spite and with glee. You match Steve in stubbornness and Sam in annoying-ness. You’re just a step behind Natasha when it comes to acting, too. The combination could be lethal if you weren’t such a lawless brat, squandering your talents on petty revenge.

You’re leaned back in the chair, comic book in hand with a silly lopsided smile and your hair tied in the messiest of buns. Strands loop out from the elastic, flop against your ear pathetically. There is a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of your mouth, and when you lick your dry lips, you lick it away too.

“Hey, when are those pannies ready?” You ask over the line of the glossed book.

“Don’t call them panties! And don’t rush perfection!” Sam hollers back.

“Okay…” You try again, “When are those pancakies ready?”

“Pan-cakes.” Steve sends over his shoulder, “Pancakes. One word, two syllables, no ‘y’ at the end.”

“Uh. It’s I and E, sir.” And when Steve sighs in displeasure, you tug the collar of the shirt over the bridge of your nose and hide your snickering inside. You pop a finger in your mouth and flip the page, leaving a wet round print on the edge. Tony is going to kill you when he finds out that you are desecrating his rare collection with spit.

With a snort and shake of his head, Bucky runs his hand through his bangs and walks up next to the table. “Huh.” He mumbles, finger rubbing the sleeve spilling from your shoulder, threatening to flood all the way down to your elbow. The specked brown fabric, slightly pilled is familiar beneath the pads of his thumb.

The very one he was searching for this morning. That timeworn thing, half falling apart because it’s been so many times washed.

“This looks familiar.”

“This?” You ask, eyes wide, “Is it— is it yours? Aw jeez, Barnes. I found it in the laundry room. It just looked so comfy.” One foot scratches the other and the shirt rides up your legs and folds against your stomach. Your rub the fabric against your collarbone, shifting it side to side, and the middle falls in-between your breasts, outlining the shape of you.

He has to bite down on his cheek to stop his next expression, but hums a noise of surprise anyway, “Wonder how it got in there.”

You shrug and blush, give him a fake demure smile before scooting your chair back and heading over to grab food. He follows lazily behind, watches the hem swing at the top of your thighs, a tiny inch of your athletic shorts peeks out underneath. You’re ridiculous, he thinks.

“Yummy yummy yummy, get into into my tummy.” You pull three pancakes onto your plate and Steve glares at the way you use your fingers even though there is a fork in your other hand.

“Your germs are gonna go into my tummy.”

Shocked, you press three bent fingertips to your sternum, “Captain, sir! It’s called a stomach! Two syllables. No Y!”

Steve follows your hand with a wry smile, then the slightest tilt of his head happens as he narrows his eyes on your chest.

“Captain Rogers, are you checking out my tit-tats?”

With a stutter, Steve flushes and turns around, busies himself with getting his own pancakes. Everyone else follows suit and soon enough the dining table is seated with all five, pouring syrup and cutting fluffy stacks into smaller pieces.

To his right, Bucky watches you roll up a pancake like a log and dunk it into a lake of syrup you’ve squirted on your plate. With your mouth full, you take your fork and steal a triangle from him. Syrup dribbles onto your— his shirt.

“We literally have the same food.” he complains.

“But… yours is better; Wilson put more love into yours. I think he put fingernails in mine.”

Across the table, Natasha smirks, “Arsenic, maybe.”

“Actually,” Sam corrects, “It’s rat poison.”

Behind another log dripping with syrup and melted butter, you grin and waggle your eyebrows at Sam, tongue slipping out beneath the roll to lap the dripping syrup away. Bucky kicks you under the table, a quiet reminder to stop being so obnoxious.

Instead of heeding his advice, you shove the rest of the sticky tube into your mouth and choke a little.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, turning away from where you are pounding on the table and coughing. “You dead?”

“Rest in damn pieces.” Sam adds.

Steve continues to stare suspiciously as you press your cheek to the glass surface and catch your breath.

You’re going to drive him crazy, he thinks.

He hides the smile behind a cut of pancake and a swig of coffee. A few more bites and he loads his plate into the dishwasher, returning to his room to take a shower, even thanking Sam for breakfast without an insult. Wilson looks after him curiously but takes the compliment where he can get it.

On his way back to his room, Bucky stops by the familiar door decorated with a single poster you printed off in the lab—a kitschy and poorly edited photograph of Sam with a rainbow-colored clown wig over his head, not even fully covering his hair. Underneath his torso are the words Sam Wilson Local Dumbass.

You had made it after a mission where Sam’s wing clipped your shoulder and your gun went off into a gas tank, blowing out half the floor. It’s been almost half a year and you still haven’t taken the poster down—vowing not to change it until the year passes. Petty revenge, Bucky scoffs to himself.

Bucky pushes past the door and yanks open your closet, staring at the piles of shirts and shorts, mountains of pants and dresses you’ve never worn. On top of each heap are a million pairs of panties, like you just grab your laundry basket and throw it in. You probably do. The doors are always shut probably because you have the object permanence of an infant and if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, too.

He laughs when he sees the assorted hangers on the pole, varying sizes and some bent completely out of shape. There are precisely four, neatly aligned next to each other, out of place with the rest of the disordered space.

His hand reaches up to tug on the familiar red Henley he found last week over your torso as you sat watching a movie with Natasha. You had tied an elastic band to the bottom of it, the tiniest sliver of your hip showing beneath.

Next to the red is a gray long-sleeve. Next to that is a cream-colored shirt he hardly wears but you mentioned one night that you liked seeing him in lighter colors. Ironic that you’d steal it from him, then.

At the end of the row, folded neatly over the bar of a plastic green hanger, is a single pair of his black boxers and he nearly hisses when he yanks it off in mortification.

“What?” Your voice calls from the doorway, “They’re clean.”

“Jesus! Why do you have these?”

A wide grin stretches over your mouth, “I wear ‘em to sleep sometimes. Mostly when you’re not here.”

“Darlin’, you got your own clothes.” Bucky smiles, wishing he could genuinely find your antics annoying and not so damn cute. Walking forward, his fingers reach under your shirt where the smooth plane of your stomach starts, other hand moving over your head to push the door close. “It’s hard to keep a secret when you’re so obvious about it.”

You whine, bratty again, and he shuts up the noise with a press of his mouth over yours, “It was only fun for like, two months.” You mutter into his mouth, “But really, Buck. Everyone here is so oblivious that we could probably fuck on the conference table and they wouldn’t notice.”

A strangled breath falls out of his mouth, “We- we haven’t—f—” He can’t even bring himself to say it, because unfortunately, he is so stupidly shy when it comes to you. “D-don’t say f...” His face burns red and he attempts to look at anything else but your devious smile as you tap a finger over the band of his sweatpants.

“Fuck?” You laugh, “Fucky-fuck-fuck, Bucky-Buck-Buck.”

Then, quick as a whip, you leap up and lock your ankles around his waist, knees splayed out to his sides. Automatically, his hands catch underneath your bottom. Three months of secretly dating and all he’s done is kiss you senseless in utility closets. And now you’re saying… Jesus.

You’re going to kill him, he thinks.

Leaning back, you almost pitch out of his hold but then you stop yourself and slowly shrug the shirt—his shirt from your torso. “You wanna, right? Three months, Bucko. You’re playing a slow burn game that I am not good at.” You grin and drop the shirt onto the floor, the sight of your bare skin turning his entire body hot. “Bucky…!” You whine loudly, bouncing in his arms, “Come on!”

He groans at the way you shift against his groin and thinks fuck it. If you kill him, it’ll be a good thing. Rest in damn good pieces. Bucky sighs and tilts forward, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. “Baby, you’re so—”

The door slams open and you yelp, falling out of Bucky’s hands and onto the floor on your back. “What the fuck!”

Steve is pointing, wide triumphant grin across his face, “I knew it! I knew that shirt looked familiar!” Bucky pitches forward, covers your bare chest with his body and nearly crushes you underneath.

“You fucking perv, Steve! Stop trying to look at my tit-tats!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve cries, turning around. Bucky kicks the door shut with his foot as you continue to curse out Steve on the other side of the door. With an amused sigh at the way your nose scrunches up as you hurl insults, he presses his nose to your collarbone again, licks away the stain of syrup you’d dropped earlier on yourself.

--

He wakes up in your empty bed around noon, groggy and a little confused as to why you’re suddenly gone. Disappointment and fear sparks in his chest at the thought of his lonely state. Was it bad? Maybe this is how you’re breaking up with him. Fuck—was it that bad?

Bucky slowly gets up, slips on his sweatpants from the earlier morning and scoops his clothes into his arms, mind set on clearing out his belongings from your room if the relationship is truly over, not even bothering to put a shirt on.

The hallway isn’t empty this time—down the walkway you are crouched with something in your hand in front of Natasha’s room, but you pay him no mind. Bucky tucks his clothing under his arm, turning around to close your door before his eyes catch sight of what’s been newly taped to it.

An enormous poster decorates the plain paint. Steve’s face is blown up and touches each corner. Over his eyes you’ve photoshopped two enormous breasts and under his chin are the words: Steve Rogers, Local Pervert.

Bucky sputters before a loud howling laughter tears itself from his throat as he pitches over to hold himself up on the door frame. It’s obscene—the petty revenge, it’s your worst one yet. He’s really going to fall in love with you, he thinks.

Down the hallway, you look over and grin at him, taping yet another poster to someone else’s door. Over your torso, again, as always, is his shirt.

[rutilation]

In honor of the wailing and gnashing of teeth that has occurred in the last few days for fear of potential incoming Joshua discourse, I have decided to get ahead of the curve and start discoursing about him before the anime even airs!

(--because he’s an interesting character who I didn’t really understand until several years after finishing the game.)

So, I got into the game around 2010, and while I comprehended the broad strokes of Joshua’s character, he seemed more like an inscrutable trickster than a person with relatable emotions, and his reasons for setting the plot into motion were as opaque to me as his reasons for backing off at the last second.

In particular, a big sticking point for me was his assessment of Neku.  He considered him “the worst person in Shibuya” and chose him as a proxy because of that.  And for years I thought that was the most ludicrous aspect of the game.  If the very worst person you can find in your bustling metropolis is a grumpy teenager who only has the potential to commit murder when under duress, then how could you possibly think that it’s beyond salvation, you utterly incoherent moron!  But, several years afterwards, I realized why he saw Shibuya as unsalvageable, and why he held Neku in such contempt, and the disparate elements of the character started to click into place for me.  

For as much as Joshua likes to put on airs, his motivations aren’t rational in the slightest.  When Joshua says that Shibuya has grown shallow and static, he’s really talking about himself, and is projecting all the things he hates about himself onto the surrounding environment.  He singles out Neku not because this run-of-the-mill moody teen is objectively the worst person in Shibuya, but because he sees Neku as a younger, more naive version of himself, and in a classic example of the narcissistic element of self-hatred, being like him is the most irredeemable sin Joshua can conceive of.

Then, I started thinking about what he actually intended to accomplish with his whole plan, and specifically, the duel at the end.  I don’t think Joshua had any intention of presiding over a remade Shibuya.  I think he was banking on Neku killing him and taking his place, and all that stuff about hijacking Shibuya from the composer during week two was for the sole purpose of planting that idea in Neku’s head.  In life, Joshua was friendless, miserable, and myopic.  He had hoped that by entering the world of the reapers’ game, he might find a sense of fulfillment.  But in the end, this mere change of scenery didn’t do anything to address his underlying malaise, and life felt just as empty as it did before.   Thus, he sets his plan in motion, intending to pass on his awful torch to a fellow awful person.  

What he didn’t count on was Neku growing as a person and gaining hope instead of losing it.  Joshua wanted to end his own world, but the outcome of all his scheming was that it opened up instead.  Instead of validating his grand act of self-destruction as planned, Neku refutes Joshua's worldview in a way he can't ignore or dismiss.

When I first saw the secret ending, my reaction was something along the lines of: “Aww, I guess he’s not totally heartless after all.”  But looking back on it, I can’t really see it as anything other than tragic.  Joshua can’t lie to himself anymore, can’t continue to protect himself with a shield of apathy and cynicism, but because of the permanence of his past choices, he can’t actually free himself from this isolated and claustrophobic world he’s created either, and that prison is made all the more painful now that he realizes how much he’s missing out on.  All he can do in the secret ending is watch forlornly as that younger version of himself grows up, makes connections, and moves on, while he’s still stuck at a dead-end.

(There’s a moment during the credits of KH:3D in which Joshua is perched above the rest of the cast on a giant letter, parodying his fondness for sitting on buildings.  The others soon take notice of him, and hassle him into coming down and joining them.  When I noticed it, it warmed my heart a bit, and made me hopeful about the trajectory of his character, regardless of whether or not a sequel would actually materialize.)

But all that being said, what I just wrote isn’t what the fine folk in the TWEWY fandom mean when they refer to Joshua discourse.  As far as I can tell, the true discursive quandary is thus:  “Is Joshua, in fact, Komaeda?”  Well I have bad news for you guys because, in my humble opinion, he kind of is?  

Now, I realize that knowing enough to write several paragraphs about such a cursed character can be seen as me telling on myself, but in my defense, your honor, I didn’t get into danganronpa until a few years after its popularity peaked.  Whatever discourse wars were waged over Komaeda and his zipper-shoes back in 2013, I was not a part of them.  With that out of the way...

You know those posts that get passed around here every so often about how the concept of gifted children sucks?  How it puts too much pressure on them?  How it encourages them to see themselves as instrumentally rather than inherently valuable?  How it leaves them anxious, depressed, and bereft of ways to cope?  Well, that’s the underlying allegory of SDR2, and underneath all the wacky shenanigans that comprise your average danganronpa title, that’s what the cast is contending with.  This is true of it’s protagonist, and especially true of his rival.

in much the same way that Joshua is the worst parts of Neku exaggerated and taken to their logical conclusion, Komaeda plays precisely that role for Hinata.  Both characters serve as a cautionary tale for the respective toxic mindsets that these games are denouncing.

Now that I think about it, Komaeda almost seems like an evolution of the concept, because he intuits from a fairly early point in the story that the protagonist’s very essence is a refutation of his worldview.  He insists on viewing Hinata as being far above him, but in actuality he realizes Hinata is in a similar situation--see his comment in one of the FTEs that Hinata feels like a miserable outsider like himself.  And if someone even a little bit like him is capable of experiencing happiness and connecting with others, what then?  The gap between how Komaeda wants to feel and how he actually feels is a subtle but reoccurring thread throughout the story.  This, I think, is why he seems to regard Hinata with both attraction and revulsion, treating him as simultaneously an avatar of his repressed will (hence why he attempts to bolster him in the class trials,) and an object of scorn (hence the smattering of passive aggressive jabs before chapter four, and the outright antagonism from that point forward.)  While Joshua fools himself until the the end of the game, Komaeda, master of doublethink that he is, seems at times self-aware of the fact that he is a foil in the literary sense, and that awareness partly informs his neurosis.  His take on the character type feels a little more post-modern, I suppose? 

Anyway, it wouldn’t surprise me if Joshua were an inspiration for Komaeda’s character and role in the story.  But even then, I suspect that the question is less, “Is Joshua, in fact, the same sort of character as Komaeda?” and more “Is Joshua, in fact, going to become a contemptible meme like Komeada?”  To which I say, probably not.  *knock on wood*

For one thing, while TWEWY will certainly experience an uptick in popularity once the anime starts airing, that doesn’t necessarily mean it will capture the nerd zeitgeist enough to turn one of its characters into a meme that transcends the story from whence it came.  Furthermore, there’s more to being a tumblr sexy meme man than merely belonging to an archetype.  Komaeda’s spiritual successor in DRV3 is kind of popular, but isn’t an inter-fandom joke in the same way he is, and neither are Kaworu from Eva or Ryo from Devilman, for that matter, and those are the grandfathers of the archetype in question.  In addition, the other infamous tumblr sexymen that come to mind, Sans and Onceler, aren’t a part of the white-haired-anime-rival-boy archetype, and Sans isn’t even a conventionally attractive twink.  I posit that the alchemy determining which characters and media tumblr loses its shit over is more varied and complicated than it appears at first glance.  (Not that I actually want to devote much brainpower to that particular field of study, lol.)

Uhhhhh... in conclusion, thank you for reading my words and also the DR3 anime is trash.

[artistic-writer]

The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 6

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal.  Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some.

A/N: I know I only posted a snippet yesterday, but i wasn’t expected to be done so soon! Yay! Also, I think writing Liam, Killian and Will slightly drunk is my new favourite thing. This chapter takes off where #5 left off, so enjoy ;) Thanks to @hollyethecurious who was my beta for this little adventure. I would also like to give a MASSIVE thank you to @itsfabianadocarmo for her beautiful artwork that she so graciously allowed me to use from now on! <3

ALSO A MASSIVE HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @shardminds (for tomorrow) - IT’S EARLY BUT ITS HERE!

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics.  Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg.  Just so you know.  There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O.  If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :)  Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @effulgentcolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist:  I’ll be honest, i have lost my taglist for this fic, so if you want a tag, please message me here on on discord (Salem #5158/ itwontalwaysbelikethis@gmail.com) and I’ll add you!  I’ve tagged the following people i KNOW want to read this, but i don’t want to accidentally tag you if you do not like ABO.

@hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thisonesatellite @xemmaloveskillianx @hookedonapirate @teamhook @winterbaby89 @carpedzem @courtorderedcake @profdanglaisstuff @itsfabianadocarmo @donteattheappleshook​ @ultraluckycatnd 

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The ferocity of his kiss made Emma swoon, her heart fluttering just under her skin. She had never felt such a yearning, such a need, and as soon as his knot had receded and they had left the car, Killian had cemented her animalistic want even more when he had hoisted her up onto his shoulder and carried her to her apartment. It thrilled her to no end, being carried, overpowered and yet cared for at the same time. Killian, growling deep in his throat as he crossed the threshold, slammed the door behind him and set her feet firmly back on the ground.

“How long is your refractory period?” Emma smirked salaciously, her fingers caressing the lapels of Killian’s blazer. He gave her a raised eyebrow as she arched into him, her fingers gripping the soft, cotton material and giving it a tug as she spun them around.

“Such a needy girl,” Killian growled, walking towards her and pinning her to the cold surface of the door. The sizzle of her skin was almost audible and her sharp intake of breath made his cock hard.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Emma whispered, pulling even harder on his jacket until Killian’s forehead touched hers. Their lips were so close, the breath between them all that separated her from the feel of his mouth on hers. “I want you all the time, Killian.”

“You shouldn’t,” Killian ground out, his entire body screaming at him to kiss her. His tongue darted out and he tasted her lips, the sweet taste of her ever present in his memory intensified in that moment.

“Why?” Emma breathed, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

The way she was acting was unlike any of their previous encounters and it was awakening something very primal inside of him, his hands skimming down the sides of her face and down the column of her neck. Killian paused, his thumb resting over the pulse there, the elevated rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat quickening even more when he stroked the skin where her Omega scent gland would be were she anything but Beta. A heady mixture of arousal and confusion coursed through him, his throat closing up around a lump there and the strain of his erection a painful reminder of what he could never truly have.

Emma was married. The fact that her husband was an arsehole was irrelevant, and the fact that Killian wanted to wring the Beta bastard’s neck was even more of a moot point. It didn’t matter to him what gender class she belonged to because at the end of the day she would never be attainable. He had let things go too far, let his feelings for her develop into something far greater than even he could control and if a day with Emma had shown him anything, it was that he wasn’t ready to let her go.

But his feelings could wait. Right now, the only thing more important to him than his own arousal, was Emma’s. She was especially wanton today and it hadn’t escaped his notice. First the lingerie, of which he had just reminded himself, then the panties, oh god, the panties, and then the very idea of a blow job which had the blood rushing to his cock from the memory alone, and, to be fair, what sort of Alpha would he be if he didn’t indulge Emma’s deepest, most baser urges?

He surged forward and pinned her to the door with his weight, making sure she could feel the length of his hardness pressed against her. Emma let out a gasp of surprise and her scent immediately changed, her sweet, subtle hint of what Killian had once known making way for a strong, spicier taste that had his blood boiling in his veins. It was familiar but overpowering, the low rumble of a growl crawling up from his belly as he raised her arms and she let him, rubbing herself against his length and biting her bottom lip.

“You want me too,” Emma surmised with a hint of glee, writhing her body against his even more. “Tell me you don’t.”

“That’s not fair,” Killian said gruffly. He pressed into her harder, resting his head on her collarbone and tasting her intoxicating skin with a quick peck of his lips. “You smell different, love,” he rasped. “I can’t think straight.”

“So don’t think at all,” Emma whispered, slipping her hands from his grasp and pushing the blazer off his shoulders. The muscles along Killian’s jaw tightened and the green of Emma’s eyes darkened with her lust at the sight. The cotton jacket fell to the floor and Killian kicked it away, closely followed by his shoes, his toes scrunching inside his socks in an attempt to ground himself.

“Emma, I-,” Killian began again, his vision blurry from whatever Emma had bewitched him with, her fingers tracing the v-neck of his t-shirt that had suddenly become clammy and clung to his body. He swallowed thickly, blinking to refocus the blood flow from his cock to his brain, a futile attempt if ever he’d known one.

“Don’t. Think.” Emma pressed her finger to his lips, halting any further interruptions from the Alpha before her. “Just, fuck me,” Emma purred, holding his eye contact when his stare bore into her. His eyes were the darkest Emma had ever seen and her skin flushed hot with the idea of what he could do to her. She knew, after all, exactly what Killian Jones was capable of. “Fuck me, and knot me like you promised in the restaurant.”

“Oh, my sweet,” Killian smirked, dragging his fingers down the length of her arms, lightly gripping her wrists. He held her gaze, unashamedly moving her hands to his chinos, encouraging her to unbutton them with a reassuring nod. “I’m going to fuck you, and will knot you, but be warned,” he paused, allowing her to lift the weight of him out of his underwear after she had pushed his chinos to the ground. As soon as she was done, he slapped his hands to her arse and hoisted her into the air, ignoring her squeak of joy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and let her sag into his hold. “This is going to ruin you.”

“Too late,” Emma rasped, clutching his face and finally planting her lips firmly on his.

If he hadn’t had the strength of an Alpha, Emma might have knocked them both to the ground with the force of her kiss. Killian wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hold on her body as he stepped from his chinos and flicked his foot, tossing them aside on his way further into the apartment. Her lips were sweet, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of and he’d be damned if he wanted to let up kissing her back for even a second.

“What about the lingerie?” Emma pulled her lips from his in a daze, her fingers interlocked behind his head and his neck muscles there straining against the edges of her palm.

“Nope.” Killian shook his head and Emma frowned at him. He set her down, much to her protest, but soon his intentions became clear when he reached behind her and unzipped her dress.

“No?” Emma asked salaciously, letting the material of her dress flutter to the floor once Killian had slipped it off her shoulders. It left her naked, gloriously bare and exposed to his hungry gaze, and Killian licked his lips with delight.

He shook his head again, crossed his arms over his body and Emma felt a surge of wetness between her legs when he lifted the last remaining remnant of clothing up and over his head and his arm muscles rippled deliciously under his skin. “Anything that blocks my view of your absolutely perfect body is not welcome here.”

Emma blushed and without even realising it, her hand had found his bicep where her fingers gripped the muscle in anticipation. “You said you liked it in the store.”

Killiam grinned darkly, stepping into her space and forcing her to retreat backwards until her thighs touched the huge bed behind them. “You weren’t naked in the store.”

Emma let out the longest breath as she fell backward and bounced on the mattress, turning herself onto her stomach whilst airbourne. She tried to crawl away with a giggle, Killian hot on her heels as he clambered onto the bed behind her and grabbed her by the hips. Emma wasn’t sure what had come over her, playing this little game of cat and mouse all day, teasing him to within an inch of his life, but she was enjoying it like nothing else they had ever done. His hands on her skin felt like red hot pokers, searing his fingerprints into the flesh there, the warmth between her legs igniting once more and causing her to clench her muscles.

“Ah ah, love,” Killian teased, giving one of her arse cheeks a playful slap and sending her crashing flat onto the bed. “Don’t you dare hold that wonderful nectar in.”

His hands were on her arse once more, long, lithe fingers kneading the globes with a growl. Emma smirked, her face buried into the thin sheet that covered the bed and she rolled her shoulders, and hummed contently. Killian was not about to let her out of his grasp, dragging his fingertips down the back of her thighs and pushing her legs together once he reached her knees, pinning her to the bed with his own weight as he straddled her legs. Before Emma had time to react, his fingers were tracing the crease of her behind, pushing between her legs and fishing around in the wet heat that was currently soaking the sheet underneath them.

“My word, aren’t we wet,” Killian rasped, teasing his finger around her entrance.

“Killian-,” Emma began in a breathy whisper, but Killian covered her back with his own body and canted his hips until his erection eased itself into the crease of her arse and had the rest of her words stolen in a gasp.

He let his weight envelope her, mindful not to crush her, but instead apply just enough pressure so that she was safely in his hold. Huge hands found the mattress beside her head and Emma felt dizzy with need, inhaling hard and smelling herself on his fingers. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move and she had never felt so loved in all her life.

“Please,” she begged, turning her face until her head lay sideways on the mattress and she could see the dark wisps of his hair falling over his forehead. Her hand reached behind her and clutched at his hip, a desperate please further enforced by her unadulterated need to feel his cock inside her. One of his hands brushed her hair aside, tucking it behind her ear before his tongue licked the outer shell with a husky moan.

“Gods, I love it when you beg,” Killian growled, his lips right next to her ear and his words sending shivers down her spine.

The sound that left her mouth was unlike anything Emma had ever heard from her own lips. She felt hot, her body melting into the mattress, the garbled mess of sounds tumbling from her throat just making Killian chuckle. His hands were on her, skimming over the curve of her hips that were pinned under his, his own enthusiastic panting turning her on even more. Emma tried to wiggle, to do anything to encourage Killian’s length where she wanted it, but he was steadfast, pressing his hands into the small of her back and pushing himself back into a sitting position.

His lips were on her instantly, tongue darting out to taste her as he kissed his way down her spine. It was agony, slow, torturous pain that fell just on the right side of pleasure and made Emma’s skin tighten over every single muscle in her body. The hair on the back of her head prickled to attention, her neck arching outward in an attempt to tempt his lips closer, but Killian just continued his journey down her back, making sure each and every bump of her spine was paid the utmost attention.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered between kisses, his hands placing featherlight touches after his lips to smooth away her trembling. “You’re so, so…” He stopped, fingers digging into her flesh in an attempt to stave off something Emma couldn’t make out, the feel of his jaw muscles clenching against the divet above her behind. Killian’s words were taken from him by the scent of her, her body making far more lubricant that he had seen before, cementing in his mind the idea that despite being Beta, Emma was made just for him.

“Taste me,” Emma whimpered, drawing his attention to her aching core with a lift of her buttocks. “I know you want to.”

“Oh, love,” Killian hissed, the softness of her cheeks rubbing over his sensitive tip. “How is it you know exactly what I want?” His lips were on her again, the skin of her arse cheeks rippling with goosebumps under his kiss. “What I need,” he added with a feral growl.

He sat back up, unable to take it anymore, taking himself in hand and stroking his length quickly. Emma grinned salaciously, her eyelids fluttering closed in anticipated pleasure she knew was coming. She eased her behind into the air which allowed for Killian to slide a pillow under her stomach. This had become a dance she was familiar with, the silence between them the only communication they needed, this position perfect for his cock to find the exact right spot over and over until they crashed in euphoria together.

Killian eased backwards, drawing his hands over her skin in a circular motion, encouraging her to relax that little bit more. Emma wasn’t sure how much more relaxed she could be. She felt like her body was floating already, the room spinning and her finger scrunching the material of the sheet in her grasp to ground her, but when Killian nosed into her folds from behind, there was nothing that could hold her steady. His tongue was scalding her, burning her from the inside out, the cool air in the room her only relief between his hungry gulps of her and the too long time he spent savouring the taste on his lips.

“How do I taste, Alpha?” Emma cooed, watching him lift his head at his title on her lips. They locked eyes and she bit her bottom lip coyly, flashing him a cheeky smile that was equal parts blissful and testing, his inner animal fighting to be free.

Any other time, Emma’s teasing would have been welcome, exciting even, but for some reason, Killian was overcome with the need to claim her. It was illogical, he knew that, but there was something about the scent of her, the remnants of her juices on his beard and those covering his tongue that made him roar inside. His skin felt like it was about to melt right off his bones, an itch that he couldn’t scratch just under the surface, but Emma was the remedy for his ills, his aches and his yearning and so, Killian was done being patient.

“Yes,” Emma hissed when she felt him position himself at her entrance.

Without preamble he was pushing home, entering her with one swift thrust of his hips and a sigh of relief. His body began to quake, the muscles in his upper thighs twitching when he tried to find his equilibrium. It was difficult, considering Emma had the ability to knock him for six simply by smiling at him, so the feel of her around him was almost suffocating. He froze, fighting off the maddening urge to pound into her relentlessly, aware that while she was very wet, and was already becoming accustomed to his size, the true Alpha nature that was clawing its way to the surface, or trying to, might scare her off.

Killian shifted his position, making sure he was seated inside of Emma as far as he could get, loving the way she pushed back onto him in an attempt to pull him in deeper. He clawed down her back, angling his hips upward, waiting for Emma to adjust her own body to where she felt most comfortable with his ever welcome intrusion. After a gasp and a shudder, Emma was lifting one knee, sliding her leg across the sheet and forcing Killian to roll over to the side so he was resting on his side behind her. Reluctant to slip from her tight heat, he followed the arch of her spine with more searing hot, open mouthed kisses, eager hands grabbing any part of her he could.

Silently, Emma moved his hand from her waist to her breast, flattening her palm over his and forcing him to knead the aching flesh. Her nipples hardened even more, the skin pulling tight around them, the bullet like buds telling Killian exactly what he already knew. Emma wanted more, breathless pleas leaving her mouth in nothing understandable, but her body crying out for what only he could give her.

Killian shushed her, soothing her need with more tender kisses, his length rooted inside of her as far as he could possibly get except for the swell of his knot. He repositioned himself so that he could kiss her face, one hand stroking the slightly damp side of her brow whilst the other held her still beneath him. Killian slid his lips to her cheek, placing soft kisses to the raised apple of it when she smiled. He loved her smile, and could lose himself in it forever, and with a smirk of his own, he planted his lips firmly on the corner of her mouth.

“Love,” Killian whispered against her lips, the corners of her mouth ticking up with pleasure at his endearment. He was drunk on her scent, the strength of it overpowering his brain as he dragged his forehead over the bare skin of her shoulder, and couldn’t stop the words before they slipped from his mouth. “I wish you were mine.”

Emma’s skin sent a ripple of anticipation through her entire body and all of the hair on her arms stood to attention at his words that she just knew weren’t said flippantly. Killian had never been one to confuse his words, but this was the first time she had ever heard him speak what was in his mind. She didn’t respond, afraid of him realising that she had heard what he had said, instead, rolling her bottom lip under her teeth, and flattening herself to the mattress where his engorged cock rubbed her in all the right places.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered before she could stop herself.

Killian was reluctant to leave the warmth of her skin but he did, forcing himself up on his forearms and pulling his hips back. His cock dragged against Emma’s insides, deliciously working her up, causing her body to coat his length in even more glorious wetness. It made him growl, a low gutteral sound from deep within him, and he slammed himself back into her with a stiff, clenched jaw. His nails raked down her ribcage, over each bump with increasing intensity to match his thrusts, one after the other that forced her legs open wider and expelled all the breath from her lungs.

“Knot me,” Emma whined, her words desperate and almost painful.

She was so close to coming, balancing right on the edge of her orgasm, but she just needed that little push to achieve what was fast becoming her favourite feeling in the world. The burning stretch of Killian’s knot as it entered her was addictive, all of the blood rushing to her stretched muscles and providing her with pinprick sensitivity through her entire core. The hair on his stomach rubbed at her buttocks, his cock so deep that he barely left her skin to cant his hips, and it was just the way she liked it, pressing on her pleasure center repeatedly.

“Are you sure?” Killian grunted, the bulb of his knot exposing itself at her words alone. She hadn’t come yet and he was afraid of hurting her, but the way she was writhing against his cock, hungry for his knot told him that he should trust her. She knew her own body far better than anyone, and if she wanted his knot, who was he to argue.

“Yes,” Emma hissed. “I need all of you.”

“Alright, love,” Killian purred with a grin. “As you wish.”

Soft, manly hands were heavy on her back but felt as light as air, almost invisible with how they were escorting her through the clouds of her mind. Emma was boneless, her soul on the outside of her body and the room around her faded away to reveal nothing but white hot bliss. She went limp, flattening herself against Killian’s hand that had found its way to her clit, rubbing herself in one direction against his fingers in a steady rhythm whilst he countered in the opposite. She was coming, the inside of her bones fizzing with pleasure, and the press of Killian’s bulb against her entrance made her whimper.

Killian leaned harder into her, his jaw clenched tightly and sweat beading his brow under the loose hair that flopped there. His thighs burned from the tempo of his love making, and the muscles in his back rippled with each thrust, his knot exposing itself to the cool air of the room just before slamming into Emma’s core, sending her into oblivion and the contractions of her muscles around him pulling him with her. Killian’s legs trembled and he grabbed at the flesh of Emma’s behind hungrily, letting out a groan of pleasure as he emptied himself inside of her and felt his inner beast howl with delight. It was a few moments before he realised he might be hurting her and relaxed his grip on her skin, smoothing his palm over the area before giving her a playful slap.

“Mmmm,” she hummed with a smile, enjoying the way Killian was seated inside of her.

Killian pulled the pillow out from underneath her and arranged them into a more comfortable position. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her quickly. Small tiny pecks along the width of her shoulders made her arch into him even more, the throb of her muscles around him massaging his knot bulb and making sure he didn’t slip from her body. A shiver prompted Killian to pull the sheet up over them, something that had been pushed down to the foot of the bed by their vigorous activities, and he smoothed it down over the curve of Emma’s body to make sure she was fully covered and would feel no chill as her body temperature returned to normal.

“Is that what you needed, my love?” Killian’s words were but a whisper, mumbled into the back of Emma’s ear and were followed by him nuzzling into her neck. He buried his face in her hair, unaware of what he had let slip in his own selfish error, until he felt her stiffen in his arms. Killian frowned, unsure what was wrong for a second, still lost to his own euphoria, but when Emma began to quake and sob, his panic soon chased away his pleasure. “Emma, love, what’s wrong?”

Emma couldn’t hold in her emotion any longer. A combination of the flutters of orgasm and the pain in her heart was just too great to contain any longer. Emma enjoyed seeing Killian, more than she liked to admit to herself, and of late she had felt an almighty draw to more than just the idea of sleeping with an Alpha. Emma was pulled toward Killian by a connection she couldn’t explain, by one she didn’t want to understand anymore than at its most basic level. She craved him and needed him more than she thought possible, and Killian’s words had opened up something inside of her that she had been trying to hold back.

It wasn’t for the sake of her marriage, because that was as good as over in her eyes. No, it was more than that. Emma had been trying to convince herself that a loveless marriage would be what she could settle for if she got what she wanted out of it, the Alpha experience she had been so intrigued by her whole life, but all finding Killian had shown her was what she was actually missing from her life.

Love.

“Emma?” Killian pried again, a little gentler than before but with no less panic stricken words. “Please,” he begged her, his own emotion creeping up his throat. He ground his teeth, wishing that he had waited to bury himself inside of her but also wishing he hadn’t, cursing himself for rushing after her high as eagerly as he had. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that,” she assured him quickly, shaking her head.

“Then what, my sweet?” Killian soothed. His hands found her face, as awkward as their position allowed in their current join, and he wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“That,” Emma sobbed, turning her face further into the pillow. “My love, my sweet, Killian, you can’t say these things-.”

“And if I mean them?” Killian interjected her quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He tucked a crooked finger under her chin and tilted her face back towards his.

Emma’s breath hitched in her throat and she pinched her eyes closed even tighter, scared to look him in the eye. “Do you?” Her eyes fluttered open and met his, the darkened greys fading away to the beautiful shade of blue that she now saw.

“Aye,” Killian said with a nod and the small tick of a smile. He had never been much of a gambler, or been so apprehensive to say the next words out of his mouth, but with a small lick of his lips, he laid all of his cards on the table. “Emma, I love you.

--

Liam threw down the cards in his hand again, a disgruntled huff leaving his mouth through tightly pursed lips. He had never had much luck when it came to playing poker, or gambling of any kind really, but his brother had insisted on a game or two after hours. The bar had been closed for an hour, way into the early hours of the morning now, and all Liam had found was that Will Scarlet was either very lucky or with each hand he had something up his sleeve to guarantee his victory. Literally.

“You’re cheating,” he accused, narrowing his eyes as yet again, Will pawed his winnings towards him with an excited chuckle.

“Oh, come now, brother,” Killian teased, collecting the cards from each of them and setting them back into a pile. “That’s not very sportsmanlike.”

“Yeah, Liam,” Will added, stacking up his ever increasing pile of chips. “Where is your dignity in defeat?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been defeated,” Liam groused. “I’ve been cheated out of my hard earned money by a thief!”

Will hurled himself back in his chair and the whole thing skidded across the floor. “Your words wound me, sir!”

Liam blinked. “But you are a thief, Scarlet!”

“Former thief,” Will corrected.

“Now, now, gents,” Killian bellowed above them, his voice echoing ever so slightly in the now empty bar. At his words, Liam crossed his arms over his body and twisted his mouth as if trying to stop the words he wanted to say from coming out. “Would you like to shuffle the deck, Liam?” Killian offered as a means of placating his brother.

“I don’t know what good that would do,” Liam huffed, ignoring the outstretched hand of his younger brother.

“Yeah, it won’t help how shite you are,” Will grumbled under his breath.

“Right!” Liam bellowed, slapping his hands to the table. “You are barred!” He pointed a menacing finger at Will, a vein bulging on his forehead.

“Again?” Will smirked cockily.

“Alright, Will, leave the man be,” Killian told his friend with a playful grin. “And, Liam? You and I both know Will spends more money than anyone else in this place, so in reality, isn’t he just taking back his own hard earned money?”

Liam was silent. His brother, although younger, was often much wiser in how he saw the world. Where Liam saw good and bad, Killian saw circumstances, especially when a person was one or the other based on what kind of hand life had dealt them. Will had been a thief, it was true, but where Liam had only ever seen their mutual friend as that which he was, Killian had seen the why and the how, and it was all down to circumstance. And now, due to a change in his circumstances, Will was no longer a thief.

Technically.

Killian knew that Will had hidden cards up his sleeve, literally, but he saw no point in ever calling him out on it. Their games were less about playing poker and more about being with like minded Alphas who just wanted to get their heads down and get through life as unnoticed as possible. Killian ignored Will’s sleight of hand, Will never mentioned Killian’s confidential life problems and Liam was none the wiser to either.

Except tonight, because Will Scarlet was also a chatty drunk.

“So, still dreaming about the wife?” Will teased, his words only a little bit slurred as he lifted the remainder of his pint to his lips.

“What wife?” Liam frowned, reaching for the cards he had been dealt.

“Little Miss Confidentiality Agreement,” Will said with a gulp of his drink.

“Seriously?” Liam shot Killian a look and his eyes went wide.

“Yeah, Killian can’t say anything or he doesn’t get paid,” Will giggled.

“Will,” Killian warned, trying to ignore the way his brother was boring a hole into the side of his head with his stare.

“Relax,” Will said cheekily “I’m not going to tell Liam how much you got for last night or anything.” He took another long gulp of his beer, barely swallowing the fizzy drink before he coughed out a number. “Fifteen.”

“Hundred?” Liam looked up from his cards.

“No, Thousand,” Will said gleefully. “Hey, we both thought hundreds, isn’t that funny?” He noted, giving Liam a drunk smile.

“Killian!” Liam shrieked, his knees bumping the underside of the table. Will’s stack of chips toppled over and he tutted under his breath, scrambling to right the towers in front of him.

“What?” Killian gave Liam a sheepish look.

“Do you think it’s because we are both so modest?” Will continued, prattling away to himself.

“Tell me our drunk magician here is lying,” Liam implored his brother, pointing his thumb in Will’s direction.

“Is it so hard to believe a woman would pay that much for sex?” Killian asked, trying to dodge Liam’s question.

“Uh, yes!” Liam yelled.

“Exactly why her husband is paying,” Will snorted through his laugh.

“Her husband?!” Liam coughed, eyes wide and hands forgetting the cards he had been dealt. He tossed them to the table and leaned closer to his brother.

“Will, can you just shut up, for one second in your life?” Killian growled.

“Oh, right, bite my head off! I’m only the one who got you the gig,” Will snapped defensively.

“I’m sorry, Killian, did he say her husband?” Liam blinked again, trying to comprehend Will’s little slip of the tongue.

“Yes,” Killian nodded, closing his eyes in anticipation of Liam’s inevitable rant.

“Is paying you fifteen thousand dollars to sleep with his wife?” Liam could hardly believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth, but here they were, discussing his little brother making more money than either of them could ever hope to comprehend in their lifetime. And for what? Fucking a rich wife?

“Yes,” Killian sighed.

“That’s each time too,” Will chimed in, peeking at Liam’s discarded cards.

“Who is he?” Liam squeaked.

“He can’t say. He signed a thing.” Will waved his hands, slumping back in his chair. “Are we going to play cards, or what lads?”

“WILL!” Killian and Liam bellowed in unison.

“Alright! Bloody hell,” Will scoffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath. “Didn’t want to make any money tonight anyway,” he muttered under his breath.

“You should see her, Liam,” Killian told his brother eagerly. He shuffled forward in his chair, finally discarding his own cards now he had no reason to need to distract himself. “She’s so unhappy in her marriage, I just wish I could take her away from it all.”

At Killian’s rambling confession, most likely because of the way his own alcohol intake has loosened his lips, Will choked on the last gulp of his beer.

“Woah, easy there, studly Jones,” Will warned with a cough.

“Should you be thinking like that? About a married woman, I mean,” Liam clarified but he already had his answer, it was plastered on Killian’s face.

He’d seen love once, had it even, but he never thought he would see the day that he saw it on his own brother’s face. Killian had never been the biggest, most imposing Alpha in the room, and he had never really so much as sniffed at a relationship before, but there was something about the way his eyes glowed, as if sparked to life by a divine light, that told Liam his brother might have just found his soul mate.

“All I've done is think about her,” Killian breathed, his heart constricting at the thought of Emma in his arms.

“Killian,” Liam said low, his voice even. He moistened his lips and rubbed the patch of stubble under his lip.

“I know, I know, but-” Killian protested.

“No buts, mate, love ‘em and leave ‘em, that’s the job,” Will reminded him with an arched brow.

“Maybe you just always want to ‘leave ‘em’ because ugly women pick you?” Killian snapped.

“Hey!” Will objected with a frown. “I’ll have you know I’m very popular.”

“Only because you’re an Alpha, mate,” Killian teased.

“And because you’ll stick your dick in anything,” Liam added with a grin.

“Yeah, remind me, how much to sleep with you again?” Killian smirked, ribbing him further.

“Alright, alright!” Will huffed, side eyeing both the brothers with a scowl. “I get it, I’m not as pretty as a Jones.”

“It’s alright, mate.” Killian leaned towards him, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with that, right Liam?”

“Of course not,” Liam said as sincerely as he could, fighting his urge to crack a smirk as he rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer to Will. “One day you’ll find a woman who will leave the lights on,” he sniggered.

“Fuck off,” Will scoffed, laughter erupting from his mouth on his next breath.

Both Jones’ laughed with him, and he knew there was no malice behind their words. There never had been, throughout all the years they had known each other and through the entire duration of the same joke; Will was not, and never would be, as handsome as a Jones. But he had never minded, because the fact he was an Alpha was all he needed to excel in life. Even if most of his clients did, in fact, leave the lights off. Not that he was about to tell either Jones that.

“I’m happy when I’m with her and at a tremendously sad loss I can’t explain when I am not.” Killian scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw, recognizing his dilemma. “I know it sounds crazy, but I feel a connection with her, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“Like what? A mate connection?” Will frowned.

“I don’t know.” Killian shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “Gods, this is a mess.”

“Too right, mate,” Will scoffed, trying to dry off his chips.

“And this isn’t some sort of saviour complex. She doesn’t need saving, I just-.” Killian paused, a sad smile briefly gracing his face as he looked at his brother’s compassion. “I feel like I’d die without her, Liam, I truly do.”

“I’d prefer you alive, if that’s at all an option,” Liam told him softly but with a slight warning to his tone.

Killian balked a laugh. “I don’t think the husband has the time to do anything between work and his mistress.”

“How do you know that?” Liam challenged.

“What, that he has a mistress? He told me,” Killian shrugged. He reached for his beer, the chilled glass wet on the outside, and took a sip of the now warming liquid. “He’s a pig, Liam, an utter wanker. He doesn’t deserve her.”

“What a bastard.” Liam ground his teeth in anger. “Is she an Omega?”

“She isn’t.” Killian shook his head and Liam frowned, confused. “But there is something about her, Liam, I just know-”

“Shall I tell you what I know, little brother? She is a married woman, affluent by the sounds of it, and you are probably nothing more than her plaything.” Liam pushed himself to his feet and Killian watched him with utter sadness on his face. “But let me tell you what I don’t know.”

Killian’s head snapped up, as did Will’s, albeit with a little bit more of a sway. Liam paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling hard, causing Killian and Will to share a confused look as they waited for the rest of his words.

“I don’t know how she feels,” Liam smiled at his brother, who looked visibly relieved to know his brother was accepting his words.

Killian was more than confused by what his body was telling him and to know his brother was on board was a weight off his mind. Alpha’s were more attuned to their bodies and drawn to a mate based on scent, but Emma wasn’t anyone he should have been attracted to in the way an Alpha was to an Omega. There was her beauty, which was nothing to be scoffed at by any means, but it wasn’t the usual Alpha draw, and Killian couldn’t find what made him so attracted to Emma as hard as he tried.

“I told her I love her,” Killian confessed drunkenly.

“You did?” Liam’s eyes went bright.

“Oh boy,” Will gasped, then blew out a whistle.

“What did she say?” Liam asked earnestly.

Killian sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face. “She didn’t.”

“I guess that means you’ll have to ask her,” Will noted.

As if Killian needed any more of a sign, his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket and once he had retrieved it from the confines of his jeans, and seen Emma’s name on the screen, he paled and swallowed hard.

“It’s her,” he breathed.

“Well, don’t just stand there like a Beta, answer it!” Will yelled.

With a nod from Liam, Killian swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed the cold glass to his ear. For what felt like forever there was a pause and what sounded like a dead line, until he heard her smile and turned to walk away from his brother and rowdy friend.

“Hey,” he said softly, pushing his way through the empty tables towards the back of the bar. He had one finger in his ear to drown out the sound of Will cackling with glee.

“Hey,” Emma replied quickly, but her voice was filled with trepidation.

Killian frowned and he felt his stomach fall away from him. Worry overtook him instantly. Was it what he had said? Something her husband had said? Something changed in their arrangement that would stop him from seeing her again? “Are you alright, love?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” Emma paused, the silence on the line deafening. “Can you meet me? Like, now.”

“Of course,” Killian agreed without a second thought, his feet already taking him towards the exit.

“At the apartment,” Emma said softly.

“I’ll be right there.”

[alison-anonymous]

♡ dating Hades headcanons ♡

Requested: YESSSS thank you @fandomsandmore394 for requesting this, please enjoy darling ♡

Warnings: none other than a high fluff alert and my horrible humor

Dating Hades on the Isle... 

      ♡ holy shit do you see how hot he is, like don’t even get me started 

      ♡ seriously dOn’T

      ♡ your relationship would probably start with you accidentally venturing too far underground and stumbling into his home. At first, you had no clue what the hell you were doing or where you were but the second you heard the Cerberus recording, you legit fell down those wooden stairs out of fear. Legit faceplanting onto the ground before him, he was very intrigued by you once you woke him up. 

      ♡ and by intrigued I mean intrigued by your stupidity

      ♡ and your beauty ;)

      ♡ but that was how you two started. After a bit of quick remarks and subtle flirting, he decided to let you off the hook. The only thing was, as soon as you were gone, he felt this gaping hole in his chest after realizing that you might never be back again. He hardly left his place unless it was to attempt an escape again. 

      ♡ you were the reason why he went outside muahahahahahaha (I am writing this on 5 cans of pepsi I’m sorry)

      ♡ the second that he started coming outside, people started to hide. Everyone was afraid of him, not just for his status, but because of the scowl that was always imprinted in his lips. Not to mention his strange obsession with liquid eyeliner...

      ♡ once he figured out where you typically roamed about and where you worked, he always found excuses to hang around there. Of course, he told his little assistant Celia all about the mysterious beauty that faceplanted into his lair, and she refused to stop teasing him (though she did agree to help him out)

      ♡ you worked at the same place that Dizzy did, only you were more trusted with hair and styling (though you let her help a couple times, just between the two of you). Celia came up with the idea to have you do her hair on multiple different occasions or style her outfit differently and she would bring Hades along as her “chaperone”

      ♡ at first, he thought the idea was complete bullshit

      ♡ until he saw you jamming out to the tune playing through your headphones as you swept up loose hair off of the floors and instantly knew he would take any excuse just to be near you

      ♡ the first couple of visits were a bit awkward as you weren’t quite sure why the daughter of the VooDoo man would need a chaperone... but as time went on and they kept coming back (much to both of their glee, as Hades loved seeing you and Celia loved your work), you began to realize that Hades wasn’t just coming for Celia...

      ♡ by now they were both members on your frequent visitor cards

      ♡ so, naturally, you and Hades began talking and having witty banter while you worked on Celia which eventually turned into flirting. Hades became notably happier, and that made the people on the streets even more scared because they thought he was planning something bad

      ♡ why else would he be smiling at nothing like a fricking idiot?

      ♡ umm maybe because of you?

      ♡ every time he was around you, his heart instantly raced and his face got warm and these annoying butterflies started fluttering around in his stomach that made him want to puke. Little did he know, you were starting to feel the same way too. Finally, Celia had had enough of watching you two painfully steal glances at one another from across the room and weren’t sucking face already, so she decided to do something about it.

      ♡ the second that the two of them stepped out from your workplace, Hades practically had hearts in his eyes as they headed back underground.

      ♡ “Gods, I didn’t know that women on the Isle could be so damn perfect.”

      ♡ “Maybe if you left the lair more,” Celia had mumbled under her breath in frustration. “You need to ask her out

      ♡ now, you would think that the flashy, sarcastic, sexy, soul-stealer that was Hades wouldn’t be the slightest bit nervous about asking you out, right?

      ♡ WRONG

      ♡ you were completely different than any other goddess or woman he had ever gone out with or even fallen for. You weren’t narcissistic and fucking crazy like Maleficent, you weren’t so innocent it was infuriating like Persephone, no, you were... Y/n. And you were perfect. Perfect for him. So perfect that it petrified him to fall for you out of fear that he would somehow screw it up.

      ♡ but Celia, just wanting to get this over with since he was her boss/friend and she didn’t want to have to deal with him moping his way around the lair, didn’t let that stop him. 

      ♡ so, he asked you out (lowkey, Celia having to drag him all the way to where you were) and of course you said yes. Your enthusiasm added a lot of courage back onto his shoulders, and a bit onto his ego 

      ♡ really, you were just psyched because the guy you liked asked you out

      ♡ needless to say, the date went amazing. It was pretty simple since it was just the first one, where the two of you took a super long walk around the abandoned places of the Isle, talking the entire night away. You talked about everything from backstories to hopes for the future to evil plans until by dawn, you knew each other like the back of your hands.

      ♡ and things only got better from there

      ♡ obviously, he wanted to see you again and so did you so you went on more dates, and as those dates got more romantic and intimate, so did you two. You had your first kiss in the rain, and you started spending a lot of time with him and Celia in his lair.

      ♡ after about a month or two of dating, he practically had to force you to move in with him since you had been living off of the streets, claiming that you “had it under control”, but really, you didn’t. Moving in with him was probably the best decision you’ve made since agreeing to be his girlfriend because you got to cuddle whenever you wanted

      ♡ this man may not seem like it, but he is a huge cuddler

      ♡ any physical contact for that matter, honestly

      ♡ he’s been fucked over so many times and has tried to have a tough skin through it all, but he legit would melt the second you laid a finger on him.

      ♡ he would ALWAYS compliment you, like almost every sentence that came out of his mouth consisted of at least one compliment.

      ♡ so you did your best to do the same, and it wasn’t that hard because he wasn’t that hard on the eyes either

      ♡ PLENTY OF DUETS he would beg you until you agreed to sing with him, and the songs always varied but it was always perfect because of how adorable he was when he really got into it, especially with the tambourine.

      ♡ the day that he told you about Mal was a difficult day 

      ♡ you didn’t want to admit it, but you were practically fuming with jealousy because he had a child with Maleficent and not... well, you. He could read you like an open book though, and he was a huge tease so of course he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you

      ♡ “You aren’t jealous, are you, love?”

      ♡ “Me? Jealous? Ha! You’re crazy.”

      ♡ “Mmm I think you are.”

      ♡ “Well, I’m not.”

      ♡ “Okay. I’m going to go visit Maleficent now, hold down the fort will you, darling?”

      ♡ “W-What?”

      ♡ “HA! JEALOUS! Don’t worry, darling, you’re the only one for me, you know that.” Always smug whenever he won an argument, even if it wasn’t an argument, he was always happy if he was right.

      ♡ you being obsessed with his ember and wanting to know how it works (also finding it insanely sexy when you’re on the mainland and his hair lights on fire when he holds it). Him loving how adorable you look when you’re passionate to learn about something

      ♡ never running out of things to talk about or do, because you had a knack for getting yourself into trouble so the two of you would go on these awesome adventures to save your ass. Like the time you stole a possessed puppet that tried to gauge your eyes out with scissors (that ended with Hades holding you in his arms as he stood on top of a table, the two of you watching with wide eyes at the stupid thing hacked away at a pillow), or the time when you accidentally got involved with some crazy drug dealers and had to escape from a pretty nasty experiment. 

      ♡ needless to say, your relationship with Hades on the Isle was one of excitement, passion, and adventure. Through thick and through thin, the two of you stuck together and yes, eventually he did propose. Once Mal and Ben took down the barrier, you and Hades began living together in Auradon, got married, had a couple kids, and lived happily ever after ♡ 

♡ ♡ ♡ 

Dating Hades in Auradon… 

      ♡ look at how good of a dad he is, just look at that (3 more pepsis later...)

      ♡ alright, this one is gonna be after the barrier was taken down and everything because that is the only way this would really make sense lol

      ♡ so, for this instance, let’s say that you were Anastasia’s long lost sister (in case you haven’t seen Anastasia, WATCH IT and if you want to be someone else, that is totally fine) and you were very close friends with Mal and Evie and the VKs because you worked on the staff at Auradon Prep as a guidance counselor for those who were feeling a bit, well, lost. 

      ♡ you had the closest relationship with Mal, because she loved your attitude and your style and of course, you didn't judge her. She looked up to you and thought of you as the mother that she never really got to have 

      ♡ so of course, the second that he showed up on the mainland, Mal knew that you were the first one she wanted him to meet (after he met Ben, lol) 

      ♡ if you’ve ever seen Hotel Transylvania, you know the zing where the eyes get all pink and it’s true love at first sight? Well, that’s a total understatement. The second you two saw each other, it was like time froze and it was nothing but you two. The dumbstruck looks on your guys’s faces was enough for Mal to notice the chemistry and send a smirk in Ben’s direction, which he returned with confusion

      ♡ after that first meeting, Hades was stuck in your head. Every time you would pass by him in the halls since he started living in the castle with Mal and Ben, you would feel your heart flutter. He would always watch you as you passed by one another, even looking over his shoulder as he continued walking in the other direction. You rarely spoke to each other, barely even knew one another, but no one could deny that something was there

      ♡ thanks to Mal, the entire courtyard and even the statues began shipping the two of you together. Mal was the leader of that fanclub, overjoyed with the mere idea that her two favorite adults in the entire world could possibly become her new step-mom and dad 

      ♡ so what did she and the rest of the shippers do?

      ♡ they planned setups

      ♡ it all started with Evie, Jane, Lonnie, and Mal planning a devious scheme in which they called for you and Hades (neither of you knew the other was coming) to Mal’s bedroom, saying that she was having a meltdown. Of course, the second the two of you got there to see Mal with tears glistening on her cheeks, you both were so flustered about being within a 10 mile radius of each other that you completely forgot she was in the room too

      ♡ unfortunately, these little schemes did nothing but increase the growing crushes you had on each other. Mal would often take Hades with her on walks around the campus, always “stopping by” to say hi to you wherever you were, which always made you quite flustered and him fall a bit more in love with you just watching you do your own thing (you were usually nose deep in a good book)

      ♡ until one day, yes, one day, the VKs planned the most devious, malicious, horrific, horrible plan that shouldn’t have worked as well as it did

      ♡ yes

      ♡ they locked you in a closet together

      ♡ don’t ask me how they did it, all you need to know is that they locked you in the closet and cast a spell on the door to prevent either of you from leaving until they took it down, not even Hades ember could break through it. So, as the two of you sat there in a heavy silence with the shippers on the other side of the closet obviously having nothing better to do than wait for their ship to sail, time passed with just the two of you stealing glances at one another until you finally started to talk. And that talking turned into more talking, which led into a full on conversation, jumping from three topics at a time to subtle flirting and you bashfully looking at the floor when he called you beautiful.

      ♡ what I’m trying to get at here is that it was so stupid and simple, but forcing you two to stay in a confined space, alone together, actually worked because it was what finally forced you two to start talking and stop making heart eyes

      ♡ okay but you still did that too

      ♡ anyways, after that, you and the soul-stealer actually became really good friends. He would always hang out in your office, always putting his feet up on his desk as you worked away on your computer or filled out paperwork while he talked about everything and nothing at the same time. 

      ♡ he often brought his guitar and tambourine along so he could serenade you while you hacked away at your work

      ♡ little did you know, all the love songs he sang in cheesy voices were actually aimed at you

      ♡ there were also times where he would stick around while you consulted with other students (with their submission of course) and they could never keep a straight face whenever you and Hades would start bickering like a married couple about how best to go about solving an issue and it would end with him grinning at you with lovey eyes saying things like, “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

      ♡ Hades was sort of like your new dog

      ♡ you had to take him on walks, feed him constantly, and he always had to be by your side no matter where you went. Not that you minded his company, and as time went on, the two of you fell for each other more and more. Getting to know each other as friends first really helped your comedic and insanely loyal relationship bud until that day when Mal finally convinced him to ask you out

      ♡ he did it right while you were in the middle of a consult, he came barging in through the door and was just like, “Will you go out with me? I’m not taking no for an answer, just an FYI”

      ♡ and you just sat there, a flustered mess while your client giggled to herself until you finally said yes and he left with a huge dopey grin on his face that made Doug jealous

      ♡ obviously the first date went so well you guys decided to go on more, and more, and more until you two became the new power couple of the yard. Everyone called it, saying they knew you would get together in the end. You moved in with him in the castle, and of course, Mal got the mother figure she always wanted to have. You were dating about two years before you got married, and it was the happiest day of your life. You did have kids, and you could never have been happier because you got to marry your best friend

      ♡ your relationship with Hades had started out as a simple infatuated friendship, but budded into the cutest, funniest, most loyal relationship anyone had ever encountered and you ended up living happily ever after ♡ 

[reality-imagined]

Plans - Part III

SWU Poe x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance

Rating: T+

Word Count: 1503

Sequel to Schematics

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Star Wars characters, themes, or plots mentioned nor do I claim any of their work as my own. All rights reserved to Lucasfilm and the writers/creators Star Wars and subsequent movie titles. I simply enjoy their work and imagining what it would be like to live in their world.

Masterlist

By the time Tiro and you had reached the target system, you were itching to get on solid ground. Sure, you didn’t mind being in a ship but the longest time you had spent on board one was before the battle of Crait and now that you didn’t technically have to be floating around in space, you preferred to keep your feet on the ground. Tiro always made fun of you for it, especially when he could see your restlessness slowly consuming you. He always made a quip about never meeting anyone who got “space sick” or “how in the hell you got hooked up with a pilot.” He kept a trash bin in the cockpit just in case though. 

Once docked and the ship properly powered down, you grabbed your backpack and hid away the tracking device. Even though Fayvis had declared their allegiance, you couldn’t be too careful and with the information that was on this data pad - you couldn’t risk anyone getting their hands on it. 

There was a small welcome group waiting once you and Tiro to step out into the warm air that was Fayvis. Compared to the other planet’s you had been on, the area looked luxe and well, expensive. Even their landing pads were made of the smoothest duracrete mixture you’d ever seen. There was lush greenery surrounded the area and by the taste and humidity in the air, there was a large body of salt water near. 

An abrupt voice halted you and Tiro’s wide eyes looking about the scenery, “Names.” He looked to be the landing pad’s lead commandant, but his voice was a little hesitant and weary. Which surprised you, considering you were probably the first of the Resistance to stop by.

“I’m Captain Y/n Y/L/n and this is my assignment partner - Specialist Tiro Driet. Raena is a dear friend of ours.” You replied, it felt a bit weird being formal but at the same time comforting – a reminder of how your work used to go and hope that soon things could return to some kind of semblance of normal. Tiro had a weird face, he had forgotten the sound of your “Captain Voice” and how formal you used to be. 

The man looked down at the device in his hand, gesturing a few times before glancing back up and then down - his body visibly relaxing then. “Of course. Sorry for the formalities. Can’t be too safe.” He joked in attempt to make things light, but only made them more awkward. He stood at ease, a smile on his face. 

“Right.” Tiro spoke after standing for a moment, looking at each other silently. 

“We wasn’t expecting anyone… Considering there are already two of your own currently visiting.” 

Tiro and you immediately looked to each other, alarm mirroring the other’s.  “May I ask whom is currently stationed here?” You asked hesitantly, looking about the landing to see if there were familiar transports nearby. 

The man furrowed his eyebrows, “Commander Dameron and his partner.” 

Partner? Surely he meant someone from his Black Squadron. But… even though you hadn’t known much of his assignment from what Tiro had explained, he was alone. By the confused look Tiro had, your assumptions of his solo mission were correct. 

“Can-May I speak with Reana as soon as possible?” You asked, still trying to control your voice to not alarm the commandant. 

It was like the man was reminded of his duty when you asked that question, he snapped back into attention, arms clasped behind his back, “Of course! I’ll have someone escort you to the palace and notify the Princess of your arrival.” 

“Princess?” Tiro and you spluttered. 

The man eyed you curiously but said nothing more as he led you to what looked like a horizontal elevator shaft that would take you into the thick of the greenery. You couldn’t see much other than a wall of trees. Once aboard, you and Tiro both exchanged unsure looks. This isn’t at all how either of you imagined this to go. 

You couldn’t help but stand in awe of the foyer that you were to wait in. Everything appeared to be aurodium plated and you cringed at the thought that maybe it was real aurodium. Sure, Raena’s personality and manners made you increasingly aware of her higher status and you had always joked that she was close to royalty. But it never occurred to you that she was actual royalty. What royal family would send their princess into a combat zone? Well… it wasn’t the first time such measures had been taken… but you still had so many questions. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.” Tiro muttered, looking around the room before settling on you.

“Why? You insisted! It’s not my fault your girlfriend is a princess and never told you.”

“Might I remind you, she never told you either.” He poked, eyes narrowed. He was very uneasy about this new revelation.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, “Yeah well-“

“I thought they were playing some cruel joke on me.”

You and Tiro froze then slowly turned to see Raena coming, stereotypically you might add, down the large staircase in the middle of the grand foyer. She wore a long gown that was made of several layers of varying sheer and silk, aurodium colored fabrics. It flowed elegantly as she walked and upon her perfectly styled hair was thin crown. She exuded royalty and you questioned your observational skills once again. It was hard to recognize your friend, especially the one who once got so wasted with you at the Cantina that they started a weekly Karaoke night inspired by her singing on top one of the mess hall tables. You and her never returned because of the embarrassment. That girl, who wore her regulated medics clothing all the time, even when she wasn’t on duty and allowed to wear civvies, was not at all the one gracefully walking towards you.

Despite the barrier you suddenly felt in your friendship, who she was on the base was still her and she was nonetheless still your friend. You opened your mouth to reply but couldn’t find the right words to say, so you opted to for meeting her halfway with a hug. Tiro still stood back, becoming increasingly aware that his reunion with Raena wasn’t going to go how he’d expected. 

“Tiro.” Raena smiled after you two had gathered yourselves. She smiled warmly at him, a blush appearing through her precise makeup. “It’s great to see you. Both of you. But it is… a bit unexpected. I hadn’t heard from General Organa yet.” She pulled up her dress, showing how she turned the tracker into an anklet. You imagined it was so no one else would see it or clash with her gowns. 

“Right. Well, uhm… I guess we just got antsy? We need a few supplies too. Plus, a friendly face.” You shrugged, looking at Tiro for back up but he still wore that slightly shocked expression and his eyes never once left Raena. 

“We’ll get you the supplies in no time and you two will be back on course before the evening!” She turned to the assistant you hadn’t noticed until now. Whispering something then turning back to you, “I’ll walk you back to the landing.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you let Raena guide back towards palace’s main door. Why was she rushing the two of you out? You hadn’t expected much out of this trip but a friendly face and a since of security… not to be rushed off without even an offer of some water or an actual bed to sleep in. This wasn’t like Raena. Anytime you and Suna visited her quarters, even for a brief moment, she had a tray of tea and snacks prepared. Which now that you think of it, screams propriety and royalty. 

“So soon?” You finally spoke before she could gesture for the guard to open the door. You leant back to look at Tiro at the other side of Raena, who simultaneously did the same. His face continued to mirror your own as it had since you landed, this time it was confusion.

She faltered and you could see the real Raen shine through for only a moment before she plastered back on that fake royal smile. You didn’t like this one bit. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s safe for anyone from the Resistance to be here right now.” She looked between you and Tiro. You and Tiro stopped at once, body posture on defense. 

“That’s funny.” Tiro spoke up, voice bitter. “We were told Poe was here as well.”

Raena looked stunned then guilty, caught up in her own lies. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it when she realized that nothing she could say would fix this. So, you all stood there in silence, looking between one another, waiting for one of you to speak up first. The room heavy with unsaid explanations and accusing stares. 

Raena finally let out a sigh, “Things are… complicated right now. I’m sorry, I- I have a duty to my planet and family. I was just trying…” You could slowly see the real Raena returning, even down to her posture relaxing. “Until I can explain everything, I’ll set you guys up in our guest wing. It can’t be for long, but just enough time to get you the supplies and explain.” 

You could tell she was uncomfortable and in a bind. You didn’t want to bring her any extra stress, but you also needed to talk to Tiro immediately about this. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she relaxed further, her eyes pleading an apology. “Thank you, Rae. We didn’t mean to cause so much stress. Why don’t you walk us out and explain then - whatever you can’t explain now, we can talk about when it’s time.” 

Raena nodded, gesturing for the guard to open the door then. You and Tiro followed her out, you could tell she was trying to figure out where to start so you didn’t say anything, only waited for her to begin her explanation. 

So.... it’s been a minute. or two. or three. its been a lot of minutes... but I was able to see the rise of skywalker and well, I was inspired lol So, I figured I’d write up until I find a point where TROS and Plans can intersect and go from there. Just know that I have seen all of your likes and reblogs and new follows since I last posted (which was eons ago) and I appreciate it so very very much and it baffles me that this is still a thing you want to read.

Also, thinking about making a few Mando drabbles and writings, as I, too, have become enthralled in the existence that is Pedro Pascal. oops. ANYWHO, let’s get to writing and reading, huh? Much love xx 

[neshabeingchildish]

Hensley & Char: Friends or Whatever || Part 3

@just-a-j-reallly @junknstu1f @henryharts I absolutely pushed this bad boy out in a couple of hours, since I’m trying to hold myself to a somewhat organized schedule, with going back to a second job on mornings that I don’t have to work nights. If there are typos and such, please just remember that this is free and that I am busy. Lol. I promise, whenever I’m not pressed for time and energy, I do everything to give y’all my best, but when I am those things, my best has to dwindle a little, in terms of editing, hopefully not content. I’ve been missing Chasper, so this chapter is kind of Chasper heavy, from Hensley’s view of them, and also I wanted to get into the universe that we’re more familiar with, so while I didn’t feel like certain things needed to change - like meeting Ray and getting the job, I wanted to just sort of do the ff thing we do and look at other areas of the world while all of that was happening.

The Danger Befriends

“We’re almost 12. Her issues might strictly be hormones, and maybe that means that she’ll be less mean soon,” Jasper said.

“Shut up about hormones!” Charlotte snapped at him. “You ALWAYS blame women being rightfully angry with you on hormones! It’s NOT hormones, Jasper. It’s YOU. YOU are the reason we’re mad!”

Hensley didn’t want to get in the middle, but these were both her beast friends and she knew that this was all just a misunderstanding. Jasper wasn’t inconsiderate or stupid… Just very, very gullible. This was dirt from Jupiter all over again. “Jasper,” Hensley said, as gently as she could, “I think what Charlotte means is that instead of telling us the reason why you’re holding a filthy cat instead of our carnival tickets, you’re focused on her reaction to the fact that you handed a stranger the money for the tickets and they gave you a disgusting animal.”

“She’s not disgusting. She just needs a bath…” Jasper said, but before he could complete the thought Charlotte lunged towards him and Hensley had to collect her in a restraining hold to keep her from getting her hands on Jasper. Jasper’s eyes widened and Hensley cooed in Charlotte’s ear to try to calm her. 

“It’s okay, Char. It’s Okay. I carried a little extra money and I’LL get your ticket. Okay?It’s all good. It’s ALL good.” Charlotte struggled Hensley’s hold off of her and glared at Jasper, shaking her head, before she marched off and went to stand in line, herself. 

Jasper shook his head, “I think that a good counselor and perhaps even medication will help her with that.” Hensley just sighed. He had a point,  but he also missed the point. But, moments later, a guy in a trench coat really did come back with their tickets and three drinks, because they were waiting out in the sun with his cat. 

Hensley pulled Charlotte from the line, explained that this time, Jasper hadn’t screwed up and Charlotte said, “Well, it still was careless and under normal circumstances would have been a scheme.” Then, they got on rides and all was forgotten for a while. 

The moments where the three of them had fun and enjoyed each other’s company were Hensley’s favorite. She frequently felt like she had to pick sides because they argued so much. Jasper loved Charlotte. He had always liked her as a person and spending the past couple of years around her only accelerated that for him. The three were together everyday and always made plans as a team. No one would be left behind, because to Hensley, that would feel like choosing between them. And she really couldn’t.

Jasper was her yes man. Charlotte was her voice of reason. Those were things that she needed to always receive both of in order to make good decisions. She did not always make them, but she couldn’t comprehend what life would be without the two varying options. They were like the little angel and devil on her shoulders, except Jasper was the clueless angel and Charlotte the all knowing devil. You’re SUPPOSED to listen to the angel, but this particular angel was only right every now and then. The devil was always right, but she was an angry little person and threatening… That made her truth seem like it wasn’t so. Yet, she was usually right, and Hensley only SOMETIMES listened to her.

But, in those moments whenever Jasper couldn’t be around - they flowed better. And in the moments that Charlotte didn’t show her face, Hensley and Jasper made more sense. It was… confounding to Hensley. She NEEDED both of them, but it was so much easier to deal with them separately, usually. She wondered if they were like that too. Did Jasper and Charlotte have a harmonious dynamic whenever Hensley wasn’t there to demand both of their attention? She wondered what that was like. 

She imagined that Jasper was sweet and that in spite of herself, she would soften for him and smile a lot, maybe even giggle… She… kinda felt a little bit jealous about it. WHAT did Charlotte and Jasper do whenever SHE wasn’t there? Sometimes, if they studied together, or Charlotte’s mom gave him a ride home or something, even at times, he stayed the night over there??? WHAT? They could barely get along, WHY would he be able to sleep in the same room as her? AND… He was a boy!

Hensley watched Charlotte reading and Jasper leaning up against her, getting ready to fall to sleep. She made a frowning face at him and he quickly shuffled away and made a makeshift, non-Charlotte pillow of his over shirt and backpack. But, when he drifted off, Hensley noted that Charlotte sighed, grabbed a bandanna out of her bag, wiped his sweat off and tucked the bandanna in his pocket. Why had she done that? Did she LIKE him? Why was Hensley so preoccupied with these details?

Charlotte stared at her and looked confused for a moment, then figured it was because of what just happened. She explained, “Jasper’s medication for his sweating problem has changed. The new one makes him a little more tired. I don’t want him sweating all over me or my carpet.” Rational. Reasonable. Nothing to be concerned about, and even if it WAS… She wouldn’t be concerned, because she and Charlotte were just friends anyway. Just like Charlotte and Jasper were. But then, “He looks different when he sleeps. When he’s shut down and silent - he’s actually cute, right?” Charlotte asked. 

Of course, she meant like a roly poly rodent, but Hensley just heard cute and while she agreed, denied it. “Jasper? Cute?” She laughed. “Why don’t you just kiss him?” 

“I would get sweat on my lips,” she said, cringing, “Jasper sweat. I don’t even want my own sweat on my lips…” She looked at Hensley like she was extremely gross for even attempting such a joke, and Hensley relaxed and didn’t think about it again. 

There was no way that Charlotte liked Jasper. He wasn’t gross, but Charlotte found a lot of his habits to be. Plus, he irritated her very easily and even though she was nice to him sometimes, there was just this… Hensley couldn’t find the right word to describe a disconnect, so she thought of it as a no-no region… Though that sounded like their private parts, so she just simply stopped trying to find words and counted it as “would never happen.” Yet, she spent about a year convincing herself that Jasper and Charlotte were just friends and woul;d always just be friends. 

It was hard though. That Charlotte had two best friends of different genders who both liked girls and she seemed to like both of them sometimes and like neither of them sometimes. All of Hensley’s life, there were people who would say things like she and Jasper would wind up dating someday or that they were probably soul mates/would get married, etc. They made it out to be like boys and girls couldn’t have friendships that were just that and it never moved her before because she knew that Jasper was not her type. She and Jasper had the SAME type, for as long as she could remember thinking about it. But, now… That could/might include Charlotte. 

Charlotte wasn’t really the kind of girl that Hensley tended to be attracted to, but by 13, she definitely had become aware that it was probably because she didn’t see other girls that were like Charlotte, and that she hadn’t for as long as she had been in school, and not because Charlotte wasn’t totally pretty. She absolutely was. But, the more time went by, the more she realized that despite that Jasper had always noticed Charlotte. He knew her name. He knew about her plans and her life. He treated her like  a person who he cared about… and he did this before she became Hensley’s best friend. It wasn’t a competition, but Hensley had a problem not competing. 

.

The feelings were exacerbated whenever Hensley happened upon a part time job… No, Charlotte found her a part time job. Hensley was now, not only a productive member of society, but the actual sidekick to Swellview’s superhero, Captain Man, and that required secrecy and discretion. That required leaving Jasper and Charlotte alone and going to work to keep the city safe, to keep them safe… and she made an oath never to tell them.

“Why aren’t we allowed to stop by your job?” Charlotte asked, while Jasper drank from his bucket thermos as they walked from school. “We aren’t going to ruin anything, and we just wanted to be able to look around and possibly even make a purchase and contribute to your paycheck. You barely let us in the door…” 

Hensley nervously laughed and shook her head, “I… don’t need your money for my paycheck. You two don’t even have jobs..”

“Yeah, upon further research, I found out nobody really hires 13 year olds for anything…” Charlotte started.

Jasper quickly spouted out, “Oh, it’s illegal. It’s one of Swellview’s many stupid laws.”

“It’s not just a Swellview law, though. It’s most places. My research concluded that the jobs available for kids under 16 are generally permissions for entrepreneurial ventures, Internet personalities, highly regulated child celebrity gigs, and family businesses where they aren’t actually on payroll. I wonder why the junk store doesn’t have to follow those regulations…” Charlotte said, suspiciously. The last thing that Hensley needed was Charlotte being suspicious.

Jasper offered, “It may be a historic building, in which case, in Swellview, they are allowed to hire as early as 13, but only in a part time capacity, and if the training for said job is at least one year.”

“That’s gotta be it! Ray’s father bought the place when he was a kid,” Hensley said, unsure of what even constitutes as a historical building, but hoping that Charlotte wouldn’t investigate it. She wasn’t even paying attention to her, though.

Charlotte smiled at Jasper, “You really know Swellview laws.”

“One of Dad’s main rules is if he ever has to get a call that I’ve been arrested, it better be a misunderstanding,” Jasper said with a shrug.

“You almost always get in trouble at every bit of fault of your own,” Charlotte told him.

“Yes, but not illegally.” 

Hensley was happy to have the conversation off of her work. 

Jasper’s dad was a defense attorney, so Jasper knew a lot about laws and ordinances and stuff. Maybe that was why he was so good in social studies and language arts. He knew laws, history, and wordplay. Charlotte was good with sciences and math. Between the both of them, Hensley was able to keep her head above water in school. She would need them now more than ever, because her job as Kid Danger was taking everything out of her and she hadn’t even been doing it for very long. But, whenever she looked at her two friends, who bickered like an old married couple, but also loved on each other, she knew that this job wasn’t just about the money or even the newfound high of fame. It was about what was best for Swellview. For Hensley Hart, Swellview was her two best friends…

“So… Can we stop in sometime, though?” Charlotte asked, not being deterred.

“Oh, my boss Ray is kind of a stickler about it…” Hensley said.

“Probably doesn’t want something to happen where he has a liability,” Jasper said. 

Charlotte looked disappointed as she shrugged her shoulders and tugged Jasper’s sleeve, “Well, I guess that means we’ll see you tomorrow. Jasper gave Hensley a hug and the two walked beyond the store, debating whether they were going to get snacks before heading to Charlotte’s, or trust that her mom had something other than organic/vegan/no added sugars or flavors stuff that Jasper always felt like was a crime against taste buds…

Hensley went into the store. Just another day of Danger, for her. And her friends would be alright.

[rather-impertinent]

Time For Such A Thing

A/N: I am practically asleep as I type this lmao. This is for day 3 of @fuckyeahdwightcaroline’s Carolight week, and for @dodgersrecruit who requested some George and Dwight content, I hope this is what you meant 💞 Also this is fluffy af and contains every main character lol. Enjoy friends xo

~~~~~~~

The warm sun rays stretched their long fingers onto the step of the church entrance, where the Enyses attempted to hide from the summer’s day in the shade.

Dwight anxiously checked his pocket watch and squinted his eyes at the gate and towards the horizon.

His wife, Caroline, noticed both actions and chuckled quietly beside him. “This is precisely why we told everyone it starts at eleven o’clock, when, in truth, it starts at quarter-past,” she said pointedly, having expected all of her dearest friends to be a little late, as usual. Caroline fixed Sophie’s crisp, white christening gown and held her little form against her chest, swaying them both slightly.

“We are not late, are we?” A voice asked, fearing impertinence.

The Enyses stepped out of the shade slightly to be greeted by the sight of Sir George Warleggan and his two children, who came from the right side of the church, presumably having just visited Elizabeth Warleggan’s grave.

“George,” Caroline greeted politely, somewhat surprised he had come despite having indeed been invited, “Welcome. No, you are not late.”

George nodded politely and faintly smiled at Dwight and Caroline. Valentine smiled brightly at the adults - having become acquainted with them both at Nampara - and Ursula clung to her father’s hand and bobbed a shy curtsy.

“How are you all?” Dwight asked conversationally, smiling at all three Warleggans.

George’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “Well, I thank you,” he replied. “And you?”

Dwight put his arm around his wife and smiled softly at his newborn. “We all are well, thank you.”

“I wonder, might I have a word with you - in private?” George suddenly asked Dr Enys.

The doctor nodded and then glanced at his wife, who nodded an assurance that she and Sophie would be fine alone for a few minutes.

“Valentine, Ursula, why do you not keep Mrs - and Miss - Enys company?” he encouraged, gently pushing them forwards. The children nodded obediently and ambled over to where Caroline stood, where Valentine immediately began to inquire about Caroline’s horses.

Dwight and George turned the corner of the church; over George’s shoulder Elizabeth Warleggan’s grave stood out due to the colourful selection of flowers that lay by it as well as its natural grandness. “What is it you wished to speak about?” Dr Enys asked. “Are you ill?” His blue eyes and his tone were cautious and - George noted - concerned.

Sir George paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “No, not ill...,” he said, struggling with articulating the words. “I- I have never thanked you... for your- assistance these past few years,” George stated, uncomfortable with the debt he owed the man in front of him; George loathed to owe anyone anything.

“It is thanks enough that you are well and your children reap the full benefit of such a thing,” said Dwight, meaning every word.

“Still,” George said, “I thank you all the same.”

Dwight nodded politely in acceptance, feeling surprised and quite touched that he had received such a thanks, perhaps George had truly changed after all. “Your other friend shall be here soon,” Dwight quipped.

A confused frown formed on George’s face. Other? Friend? Other friend? So, Dwight Enys considered him a friend; he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or to think it an impertinence. For today, at least, he would choose to feel pleased. “Friend?”

A taunting smile tugged at the corner’s of Dwight’s mouth. “I refer to Ross, naturally.”

The very idea was dismissed with the wave of a hand. “Friends, allies, we shall never be,” George scoffed. His mouth then twitched slightly. “But one’s day is far less taxing for not constantly plotting the downfall of Ross Poldark.”

Dwight bubbled with laughter. “There are no doubt other forces at work in your place,” the doctor said, slightly sobering at the probable truth of the statement.

“No doubt it is deserved.”

Dwight could not really argue to the contrary, even if his deep internal loyalty to Ross nagged him to do so. “At any rate, please try not to kill each other. It would somewhat dampen my daughter’s christening.”

A snicker exhaled through George’s nose. “I promise to do my best, I cannot speak for Ross though, I suspect he shall consider my presence an affront to his family.”

“Was that all?” Dr Enys then asked, his tone professional as he ignored the momentary return to old ways. “Shall we rejoin the others?”

George struggled slightly, finding the matter awkward in more ways than one. “I- hm-,” he began, “it- it appears your wife possesses some knowledge about my past... that could potentially pose some difficulties... were such information to become- public knowledge.”

Dwight knew exactly to what Sir George referred, Caroline had informed him of the situation a while ago and apologised for its cruel necessity. “I assure you such information will never be public knowledge. It was a precaution, for Caroline, she never intended to ruin you. It matters a great deal to me than you be aware it was not I who shared such information. I was careless in that I had left some correspondence on my desk, but I did not intend for it to be seen by another living soul,” Dr Enys promised.

George accepted this with still the slightest sliver of unease. Begrudgingly, he politely nodded, settling the matter. “Shall we rejoin the others?” he asked, moving to lead the way once Dwight had nodded in agreement.

“Papa, it’s too hot,” Ursula complained with a pretty pout as soon as her father was close enough to hear.

“Well, then, let us wait inside,” said George, taking her hand; he bowed his head politely at Dwight and Caroline before he left.

“What was all that about?” Caroline asked her husband, her curious eyes following the Warleggans as they entered the church.

Dr Enys looked at his wife with a barely contained smirk; bless her, she could hardly bear to not know everything about everybody. It was a relief that she had remained, in some ways, so unchanged from the woman he first fell in love with all those years ago. “My love, you know I cannot discuss my patients.”

With an bored eyeroll, Caroline turned her attention to her infant, whom she loved very much, which she did a very poor job of disguising, though she did try valiantly when in company.

Dwight smiled softly at them both. Sophie was but a week old, and already he noticed how much more open Caroline was in her affections, as if she thought her jests last time had been what had went against them, had went against Sarah. Their eldest daughter, who died almost 4 years ago now, slept in eternal peace just out of their line of sight from where they stood now; but they had already visited her and informed her of today’s events, and laid some carefully selected flowers. Dwight and Caroline were both secretly proud of one another for not crying, and instead focusing on the positives that today would bring - for today was not a day to be sad.

As Dwight now watched his wife gently hum a traditional Cornish lullaby to Sophie - who began to coo as sleep beckoned her - he wondered how it was possible to be so in love with two different people. Just then, he heard some children arguing in the distance and glanced straight forward to see a bickering Jeremy and Clowance Poldark.

“Good morning, you two,” Dwight greeted as his chosen niece and nephew approached him, his expression highly amused.

The greeting silenced both Poldark children and their quarrel. “Morning, Uncle Dwight,” Jeremy mumbled, his voice beginning to crack and deepen with age. “Hello, Aunt Caroline. Hi, Sophie.” And with that, Jeremy brushed by them and entered the church. Clowance crossed her arms across her chest and said absolutely nothing, her face decidedly stormy; she was most definitely her father’s daughter.

“We did not even have time to warn him Sir George is inside; I’ve never seen Jeremy eager to enter a church before,” Caroline commented to her husband, mirthfulness in her eyes.

“Ugh, nor I!” Demelza moaned as she approached her best friends, baby Bella sat comfortably on her hip. “These two,” she continued, pointing between Clowance and the church which now sheltered Jeremy, “have been at it all morning! And Bella has been up all through the night screamin’ bloody murder about somethin’ that ails her and I cannot rightly think what it is, I wish she could talk already so she could tell me. Oh, Caroline, Dwight, I’m that weary,” she despaired, on the verge of tears, her ginger brows creased about her shining blue eyes.

A quick glance passed between Dwight and Caroline, and Dwight immediately took Bella from Demelza so that Caroline could console their stressed friend.

“Hello, Ella,” Dwight murmured, taking the infant’s hand and waving it gently. Everyone doted on Isabella-Rose Poldark, who had a varied range of nicknames, which only served to demonstrate how loved she was and how welcome her presence into the Poldark family had been after years of turmoil and uncertainty; it somehow had marked a new beginning for them all.

Demelza cried softly against Caroline’s free shoulder, the other one of which was occupied by a sleeping Sophie. Caroline awkwardly tapped Demelza’s back and lamented that did not have enough hands to sufficiently deal with this situation.

“It’s only teething, dearest Demelza,” Dwight informed his friend after noticing Bella’s tender gums, hoping this information would be of some comfort to her.

“Oh, thank God,” she whimpered, images of Julia’s last night with her had been playing in loop in her mind for the last fourteen hours; Demelza’s face remained pressed against Caroline’s shoulder, which was now growing damp.

Frowning in displeasure at Demelza’s distress, Dwight let out a sigh. “Clowance, my love,” he beckoned. The nine-year-old turned to look at her unofficial uncle. “Take your sister,” he ordered, placing Bella into her arms, his tone serious and authoritative, “and go make peace with your brother this instant. Look at what you two have done to your poor Mama.” He motioned to the sniffling grown woman who rested against his wife’s shoulder, almost too exhausted to stand independently.

Clowance nodded miserably and trudged into the church. “Sorry Mama,” she mumbled on her way inside. Clowance did not like making her mama or uncle Dwight upset as they so rarely got upset with anyone. She hoped Jeremy would accept her apology so Mama would smile again.

Caroline eyed her husband out of the corner of her eye and wet her lips; she loved it when he was authoritative. Just as she was about to make an inappropriate comment, Ross Poldark came jogging through the church gates, holding up a hand in apology.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m late,” he apologised breathlessly as he caught up with them. “My meeting with Pascoe ran over.” He then noticed his wife pressed against one of his best friend’s shoulder. He frowned in concern and pointed at her. “What’s this?” He placed his hand gently on his wife’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, Ross. I’m just a thought overtired, that’s all,” Demelza sniffed, enjoying her short respite against Caroline’s shoulder from the chaos of her three, displeased children.

With a slight frown, Ross placed a kiss in her fiery hair and soothingly rubbed her back before turning his attention to his dearest friend. “Dwight Enys,” Ross chirped, extending his hand. “It’s a proud day.”

Dwight took Ross’s hand. “That it is, my friend,” he said, beaming at his dark-haired friend and quickly stealing a glance at his sleeping daughter.

Nobody knew why Ross and Dwight bothered to shake hands - their hands always ended up crushed between their chests as they pulled each other into a tight, friendly hug. Today was no exception.

“Ross,” Caroline said, her tone teasing and yet serious, “stop flirting with my husband and look after your wife.”

The corners of Ross’s mouth twitched and he approached Demelza, pulling her into an embrace. “Yes, Mrs Enys,” he said, saluting her as though she were a corporal.

Caroline swatted him with her free hand for his sarcasm; Ross caught her hand and kissed it fondly.

“Whoa, whoa, what be happen’ here, eh?” Drake called as he, Morwenna and their daughter Loveday walked up the stone path. Everyone crooned as Loveday independently strutted down the path on her chubby legs all.

Ross laughed at how dramatic the whole situation must look to onlookers. “Do not trouble yourself, Drake. Your sister is just tired, and Mrs Enys is irritable.” This earned him another smack from Caroline. Everyone laughed.

“Morwenna,” Dwight greeted her, placing a tender, friendly kiss on her hand, she smiled brightly at her oldest ally. “And hello, Loveday, look at you!” he chirped as he lifted Loveday from the ground and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She squealed and grabbed a handful of Dwight’s lip in thanks, she loved Dr Enys, as did all babies.

“Hello, Caroline, ee be lookin’ well,” Drake complimented his friend as she stood, tall and radiant in her lavender gown, her newborn asleep peacefully against her chest.

Caroline leaned forward and placed a fond kiss on Drake’s cheek. If she would have thought fifteen years ago that one of her closest friends would ever be a blacksmith, she’d have laughed herself half to death; but she and Drake had a special rapport between them, which had surprised everyone, themselves included. “Dear Drake,” Caroline murmured in thanks. “Have you had a chance to make that fire guard I ordered?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he joked with a head bow; Caroline giggled. “It be ready and waitin’ for ye in the shop.”

“And you and Morwenna received the thirty pounds I sent you, yes?”

Drake blushed and ducked his head. “Yes, but ‘twas not necessary, truly I’d have-”

“I know you would have made it for nothing,” Caroline said with a laugh. “That’s precisely why I paid you in advance! Morwenna, please tell your husband that Dwight and I are certainly not among his charity cases, and ensure he accepts enough money to feed you all!”

Morwenna bubbled with laughter, the musical sound filling the air. “Why must our husband’s be so stubborn about money?” Morwenna wondered, glancing at Dr Enys, who still more often than not refused to accept money from the poor.

“My dear, they are stubborn about everything,” Caroline replied seriously, side-eyeing Dwight, who grinned unapologetically at his wife. “Now that we’re all here,” Caroline announced. “Shall we begin the service?”

“But Sam and Rosina’s be not here yet,” Drake pointed out, narrowing his gaze at the gate as though it would cause his brother to appear out of thin air.

“And where is reverend Odgers?” Demelza wondered, her head resting against Ross’ shoulder.

Dwight and Caroline exchanged a sly glance. “Sam is already inside,” Dwight announced. “We asked him to perform the christening.”

Everyone smiled widely at the news and made their way inside to celebrate their universal happiness that the birth of Sophie Enys had brought; she could never know how loved she was by them all.

One day, she (along with all of the children) would recognise what a blessing it was to be born into such a large, loving family - made only more loving by the fact that they had all actively decided to be one. But for now, Sophie Enys’ thoughts focused solely on her godmother’s pretty red hair, the nice lullabies her Mama sang to her and her father’s pair of blue eyes that looked upon her as though she had hung the stars in the sky.