#fragment of a fic

[wwwaegoncom]

fragments: prologue

Summary: One night, Alicent had woken up her kids, gotten them in the car and never looked back. Leaving behind everything they knew. Starting a new life, moving into the apartment across from yours

modern!aegon x reader

warnings: 18+. substance abuse, dysfunctional families, mommy issues, dub-con, smut, traumatic childhood, violence.

PLEASE say if I should continue this this fic, or if im wasting my time. i couldn't shake this idea, modern!aegon fic set in modern time, if Alicent had taken her kids and gotten out. Also this chapter is basically just about Alicent... dw aegon will come next chapter <3

The night was suppose to end like any other night, your mother narrating a bedtime story as you laid under your covers, protecting you from the world outside.

But the story had been cut short, interrupted by the sounds of children crying in the hallway, their cries muffled by the thin walls. The cries were frantic, full of confusion, not understanding what was happening, or where they were.

You had slipped out of your bed, your small feet had made their way across the cold floor. You were stood watching your mother linger by the front door, as she observed them through the peephole, watching who would now occupy the apartment across the hall.

Even though you couldn't see what was happening, you could hear the rustling of bags, the frustrated murmurs from a woman, trying to soothe her children.

It wasn't strange or unusual for people to move in in such a hurry, and after the sun had set. This place, this building, had become a momentary stop for many people, mothers and their children. A hiding place.

Many families came and went, but reasons unbeknownst to you, Alicent and her children stayed. She didn't move on like the rest, she settled into the apartment, and over time your mother and Alicent had become inseparable, bound by something you couldn't understand yet.

She had grown up wealthy and privileged, sheltered from the world outside. But she had left it all behind. And as the years passed, you and your mother had become intertwined with Alicent's family.

Alicent had become no different than the other women who had passed through the building, a deer caught in the headlight. She was utterly unprepared for the life she had now been forced into.

And Alicent had changed. You watched it happen, she had become apart of your world. But there would always be parts of her that stuck out, that wouldn't conform to this new world.

And from that night on, Alicent became a single mother, who swore with ease and lived in a run-down apartment with her three kids. Her story had became woven in with the tapestry on the walls.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey Keith.”

Keith, who is not a twelve year old child, easily ignores Lance’s dramatic flop forward, arms hooked over the back of the couch. He glances out of the corner of his eye and finds Lance already looking at him. He grins when he notices Keith looking. Keith rolls his eyes, not even bothering to try and tamp down his own smile.

“Keith,” Lance says again.

“Mm,” Keith responds.

Lance doesn’t say anything for a moment. Keith can hear his legs kicking. He’s so fucking — he’s so fucking. Ugh. Keith is going to — bite him, or something.

Lance hums, dark eyes tracing over the other people in the room. There’s something Keith can’t name in his expression, something sharp in those deep browns that Keith recognises; the look he gets when he lines up a perfect shot, when he stands grinning in the middle of the training room pointing his broadsword at Keith in challenge, when he leans in close, breaths heavy and teeth clamped lightly on the lobe of his ear. There’s amusement, there; mischief.

“Keith,” Lance says again, face schooled into something prim and serious — but his eyes don’t change. Keith hides a smile. “You need a boyfriend.”

Across the room, Shiro chokes. Pidge’s tablet clatters to the floor. Hunk’s jaw drops. Allura’s hand claps over her mouth. Coran, a notable outlier, watches them with a knowing smile.

Keith, suddenly, gets the game.

Like any of their planned missions, Keith plays along. He schools his face into something casual and unbothered, looking to the side with a shrug.

“Well, there’s this one guy I’m into.”

Some kind of deranged groaning noise eeks its way out of Shiro’s throat. Hunk appears to be praying for Lance’s soul. Keith is, suddenly, more amused than he’s ever been in his life.

“Oh?”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches. Keith’s hand matches it, struck with the urge to press his thumb to his cupid’s bow.

“Mhm. He’s cute, but…very dumb.”

A strangled garb of a sentence comes from Pidge. She reaches out like she wants to pinch Lance’s mouth with secondhand mortification. The twitching of Lance’s mouth gets faster.

“No way!” he exclaims, comically surprised look on his face. “What’s his name?”

Coran snorts. Keith looks over at him, unable to hold back his smirk any longer.

“…Lance.”

Lance gasps. So does the rest of the room.

“He’s got the same name as me?” He presses his hand to his chest, a ridiculous caricature, now, mouth dropped exaggeratedly wide. “Nice!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Hunk curses. Shiro wheezes and falls to the floor. He twitches a little. Something must be going around. Coran laughs out loud.

Keith grins, wide and ridiculous and showing his teeth. Lance meets his smile, equally as unrestrained, and this isn’t how they talked about doing this but it’s a thousand times more fun and a million times funnier.

Keith looks away, making eye contact with Allura and winking. She looks at him like he has four heads.

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. “He’s real cute. Curly hair, big brown eyes. One of those pretty boys.”

Lance scoffs. “Bet he’s ditzy, then.”

“Oh, a little. I love him, though. He makes me laugh.”

Lance does some dorky little half flip move, rolling over the back of the couch and landing with his head sprawled on Keith’s lap, grinning up at him.

“Does he?”

Keith hums, reaching down to run his fingers over Lance’s cheekbones, tracing the bump of his nose. “Yep.”

“Ugh. He sounds like the worst. You have garbage taste.”

“I dunno. I really, really love him.” He leans in close. His hair flips into Lance’s face, making his nose wrinkle. Keith laughs. “He makes me happy.”

“What the fuck is going on,” Shiro croaks.

Pidge nods frantically. “We’re in a mirror realm, we gotta be, something’s not —”

“You should date me instead,” Lance says. There’s a question in his eyes; a challenge.

They say, are we ready?

And Keith responds by brushing the hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks, and kissing him.

“About time,” Coran says.

Keith smiles, and kisses him harder.

———

based on this post

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride Screenshots Chapters 1 to 6

“Mmm.” He hummed, looking at her red eyes and full lips, feeling a strange kind of intimacy now that he could feel her veins, her blood, dragon’s blood, pulsing under her bare skin.

Their shared heritage.

His seed was stronger than Daemon’s, he thought with a confidence bordering on vanity.

Their children would have his white hair.

She shuddered as he leaned over her suddenly, his hands on both sides of her head resting on the pillow, strands of his long hair brushing her face.

“Is there really no desire for revenge in you? To prove him wrong by rejecting you? Don’t you want him to curse the day he left you?” He asked, looking her straight in the eye.

Prince Aemond gave her one sharp glance before mounting his beautiful brown steed, nodding his head for her to do the same. She therefore climbed with lightness and ease onto the black mare standing just beside him and set off at a gallop after him.

She thought with amusement, feeling the wind in her hair, the front strands of which she had braided back, as he did, that she could easily try to escape with such a well-rested horse at her side, knowing her riding skills.

For the first time, however, she wondered why she should return there?

What kind of life awaited her in Runestone?

He didn’t understand what he was doing there – didn’t understand why he was looking at them from afar like a shadow, why he was watching as his hands wandered over her cheeks and neck, as his lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on her lips.

“Do it slowly,” she said, and he obeyed, not caring too much about his presence, eager to please her and to experience fulfilment himself.

He saw her flinch as his hand travelled to her breasts under the thin material of her gown, her fingers tightening on his wrist.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

“We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction.” He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn’t she feel the need to run away?

They both fell to the ground as a large, dark dragon flew over their heads, landing in a valley not far away, burning several sheep beforehand that had tried to flee from it in terror.

They started to run in that direction, clambering down the stones, stopping only when the dragon’s head turned towards them, concerned.

He looked at her and swallowed hard, watching with some kind of admiration as she moved towards the creature, several times her own size, without any hesitation.

A male dragon the size of Meleys, he thought with satisfaction.

He could fight and make a difference, protecting him and Vhagar.

“Lēkia.” He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. “Older brother.”

“Lēkia.” She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, gods, it’s late.”

It’s the movement rather than the words that draw Nico’s attention; Will has been muttering to himself for hours. He usually does. It’s odd for him to stay quiet.

“Hm?”

“Curfew,” Will says shortly, strained as he flips upside down to store his book with the others under his bed. Nico grips his ankle, grinning, the dozens of times his boyfriend has landed sprawled on the creaky floorboards flashing through his mind. (He’s always so whiny after, embarrassment making his cheeks flush. Sometimes Nico just wants to — squeeze him. He’s such a klutz.)

“I could stay here,” Nico offers once he’s upright again. He tries for his most casual expression, leaning back onto Will’s pillows like it’s nothing, no big deal. He hears Austin’s snickering from the bottom bunk and subtly stretches down to kick him in the shoulder. “Might be easier.”

“I’ll walk you to your cabin. C’mon.”

Nico sighs, flipping his DS shut and climbing down ladder after him. Austin sticks his tongue out as Nico passes, so Nico flicks him on the head. Will watches them with a roll of his eyes.

“Teenagers,” he huffs.

Nico slips his hand in his. “You are fifteen years old.”

“In body. In spirit I am leagues beyond you. Sagacious. Wise. Enlightened. Uh —”

“Full of himself?” Nico offers. “Pigheaded? Conceited, perhaps.”

Will pouts. Nico laughs, slowing them down and leaning up to kiss it. He’s warm, even in the cool, late summer night, and he shudders when Nico slides his hand in his hair. His palms rest — hesitantly, as they always do, waiting for Nico’s hum of approval, waiting for him to set the pace — on his hips, fingers curling.

“Harpies,” Will mumbles against his lips. “Bad.”

“They’re afraid of me,” Nico dismisses. (It’s true. They are. It’s one of the many perks of being the son of Hades, he supposes, along with his knack for finding dark, private corners to drag Will into.)

“Yeah, but —”

“William. Può esso. Kiss me, before I lose my mind.”

He can feel Will’s smile against his mouth, feel his willpower — ha — dissolving.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

As much as Will indulges Nico’s bossiness, grinning and saluting and letting Nico get away with things no one else would even push, he’s still Will. And after a few more minutes of Nico pushing the envelope, he sighs, pulling away, ignoring Nico’s huff and rolled eyes.

“C’mon,” he says softly.

Nico lets him tug them down the path to the Hades cabin, only dragging his feet a little bit. He resists the urge to sigh again — he doesn’t want Will getting guilty. He doesn’t actually mind Will’s whole thing about meeting curfew every night, despite his complete disregard for almost every other camp rule. He knows it has something to do with the example he tries so hard to set for his siblings, and besides — on nights where Nico really can’t sleep by himself, Will doesn’t hesitate. If he showed up pounding on the door of the Apollo cabin in two hours, wide eyed and wired, Will would have him ushered inside and layered in his lavender wash-scented blankets in minutes.

“Hey,” Will murmurs, sliding his hand down Nico’s arms to rest on his wrists, squeezing gently. “I love you.”

Nico smiles tiredly. “And I you, tesoro.”

He stands on his tiptoes and presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth, smiling at his shiver, squeezing his hands twice before walking through the heavy stone doors. He watches out the one-way windows as Will lingers, grinning, hand pressed to the spot Nico kissed, before turning back and practically skipping to his own cabin.

Nico shakes his head. “Dweeb.”

His own smile makes his cheeks ache.

[aw-shit-my-ulna]

the urge to rewatch torchwood is battling with the pain of actually rewatching torchwood

[heliotrope155]

Cas always manages to carry and conceal a weird assortment of stuff in his coat (a magic trick that endlessly amuses Dean) and eventually Dean starts groping Cas as he rummages through the coat (Cas lets him, knowing that Dean's going to find nothing) and Sam's horrified by whatever bizarre foreplay he's watching and irritatedly informs them that he's getting another room.

[schrano]

"Siffrin? Are you alright, bud?"

Fanart of Siffrin from @cinnamin-is-a-star's Villain Siffrin AU fanfiction To Extend Our Reach to the Stars Above Chapter 11.

[ecstarry]

from having a ghost in my bed by @fromagony

[tezzbot]

And what if it was JD who came back after Branch turned grey and then raised him on the road what then

[wwwaegoncom]

fragments: one

Summary: One night, Alicent had woken up her kids, gotten them in the car and never looked back. Leaving behind everything they knew. Starting a new life, moving into the apartment across from yours

modern!aegon x reader

warnings: 18+. substance abuse (cigaretes, idk), dysfunctional families, mommy issues, dub-con, smut, traumatic childhood, violence,

authors note:

I quickly proofread, sorry if I got my past present and future mixed up... pretend it's on purpose! Also Aegon being a kleptomaniac just seemed so right to me, Idk if that should be a warning

I HOPE y'all like this chapter!!

"you shouldn’t smoke inside”

You told your mother, who was standing by the window in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette.

You were stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, your gaze fixed on your mother, the cigarette burning low in between her fingers.

The smell from the cigarette lingered in the air, as it had continued to creep through the air. Your mother simply put up a dismissive wave of her hand, when she took the final drag of her cigarette and then stubbed out the burning ember into the ashtray.

"Its raining outside" your mother explained, her words escaping with the last of the cigarette smoke.

“but now, it smells inside”

You told your mother, almost as if your roles had been reversed. As if she was the child, and you were her mother scolding her.

“You’ll survive,” your mother said, her dismissive but kind voice travelling through the air. Without further comment she went over to the stove, continuing with the dinner she had been preparing.

You continued to stay in the doorway. The smoke now mingling with the aromas of the dinner, mixed together in a strange sense of comfort.

Then a knock at the front door interrupted your thoughts, your mother asking if you could please open the door.

"I think it’s Alicent,” your mother said, as she gestured to the door, not making a move to go out and let her in. "I told her to just come in, but she insists on knocking." she chuckled.

You nodded, pushing yourself away from the doorframe as you made your way to the door.

Alicent had lived across the hall for over well over 10 years now. You could just barely recall the night Alicent arrived, the quiet commotion in the hallway. You were six or seven, when they came into your live. You never thought they would stay, that it would be temporary for them to live there. You sometimes wondered if one day the apartment would be empty, leaving no trail of their presence in your life..

But their presence in the building was as permanent as the faded wallpaper that occupied the walls.

You turned the doorknob, revealing Alicent standing there, a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand. Alicent knew she didn't have to knock, but the knock wasn't about asking for permission to enter, but still trying to maintain a semblance of the formality from the world she had long abandoned.

Alicent and her children had always been somewhat of a mystery, like a book with a missing chapter. Despite your frequent encounters and the friendly chats that bridged your daily lives, their past remained a distant, hazy mystery, as though their earlier live had been erased and they had simply been dropped into your world. Never existing before.

As she stepped into the apartment, Alicent gave you a quick hug. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of something floral and subtly woody. “Helaena got herself a new book," she explained, her voice carrying a note of amusement. “I told her she should come over, but she’s too engulfed in her readings."

Alicent made quick work of removing her shoes. She placed them neatly by the door, her movements deliberate and tidy. It was a small ritual, one that spoke volumes about her respect for others’ spaces and her own meticulous nature. She never left a mess behind, a trait that seemed to follow her like a well-practiced habit.

It was a stark difference to how your shoes were just thrown on the floor, in the middle of the hallway.

Alicent made her way to the kitchen, opening the cupboard to pull out three wine glasses. You drifted over, hovering in the doorway again, watching as she poured the wine, the deep red liquid swirling into the glasses. She turned, catching your eye, and casually asked your mother if you could have a glass too.

You didn’t need to be told twice, stepping into the kitchen and taking a sip from the glass she handed you. The wine was rich and a little sharp on your tongue, but you didn’t mind. You perched yourself up on the counter, your legs swinging slightly as you let their conversation wash over you, your thoughts drifting elsewhere.

"Aegon managed to get himself fired from another job," Alicent said, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. You weren’t surprised. Aegon had bounced from job to job for years, never sticking with one long enough to make it matter. Not that you didn't do the same.

"He was a dishwasher, at that diner down the street," Alicent went on, as she took a cigarette from her pocket and lit it with practiced ease. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a knowing look, amused that you had scolded her for smoking inside just before Alicent arrived. But now, with Alicent, the rules seemed to bend.

Alicent took a deep drag, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling, before she continued her rant. "I mean, how do you get fired from washing dishes? Just wash the dishes?." She shook her head, her frustration thick in the air as the ashes from her cigarette drifted to the floor, unnoticed.

"Perhaps he forget to wash the dishes"

You joked, finally engaging in the conversation. A smile curled at the side of Alicents lips, as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"How about you? What are you doing these days?" Alicent asked, with a sense of actual curiosity. You should have kept quiet, you didn't want to be speaking about what you were doing.

"I quit a few weeks ago, manager was a creep"

You explained, not going into further explanation as to why he was a creep.

Alicent's quiet hum showed her understanding of the corruptions that would taint men as they came into positions of power.

Your mother didn't participate in the conversation, as she went around the kitchen, gathering plates.

You were all in the kitchen, chatting and finishing your dinner, when you all heard a knock on the door. It was a muffled voice, but unmistakably Aegon’s.

“It’s open,” your mother called out from the kitchen.

The door creaked as Aegon walked in. “I forgot my keys. Is my mom here?” he asked, his voice rough and deep.

“In the kitchen,” Alicent’s voice came from the kitchen.

Aegon didn't bother to take his shoes off, he simply just wandered into the kitchen, his shoes leaving a small trail of water from the rain outside. He greeted you with a nod, his eyes immediately landing on your glass of wine. Without a word, he grabbed it, not even bothering to ask if he could.

He had this habit, this compulsion, of taking things that didn't belong to him. His fingers itching to grab whatever caught his interest.

His mother used to say he’d grow out of it, that is was jus a childish phase. But it wasn't, was it?

It would always be the most random things too. Such as the old candle you had been meaning to toss out. You didn't even notice it was gone, until you saw it in his room, being repurposed as an ashtray.

When he was younger, his mother would go through his room, pulling out the oddest collection of stolen things. Little bits and pieces that didn’t even make sense together.

A box of matches, an eyeliner, a fridge magnet, Helaenas earrings, and many other things.

She’d make him return it all, of course, dragging him door to door, making him apologise. She had hoped the embarrassment would be enough of a reason for him to stop, but he never stopped.

“You couldn’t get your own glass?” you asked, watching him down down the last of your wine.

“I’m not staying, I just needed the keys,” Aegon said, but his actions said otherwise. He settled on the counter next to you, his eyes fixed on the leftovers, like a dog hoping for scraps.

“There’s plenty left if you want to stay for dinner,” your mother offered, already preparing a plate for him.

Aegon hesitated, his words not quite matching his eager reach for the plate. “I just ate, but yeah, thanks.” His uncertainty and the way he eagerly reached for the plate made it clear, he hadn't just ate.

The four of you now stood in the kitchen, not really speaking a word to each other. A comfortable silence.

But Aegon never found silence comforting.

"Don't stop whatever conversation you were having, just because I'm here now"

Aegon chuckled, he hadn't even bothered to completely finish swallowing all of his food, speaking with his mouth full. If Aegon had something to say, he didn't wait, he said it as soon as the thought occurred in his brain.

"We were speaking about jobs"

You told Aegon, as you titled my head at him, letting him now his mother told us how he got fired. Aegon let out a scoff, as he finished his food and put the plate down beside him.

"I'll get a new job" he sighed, getting off the counter to pour more wine into your glass, that had now became a shared glass between Aegon and you.

You saw your mother out of the corner of your eye. Lighting up a cigarette.

"Mum, go outside" You whined, as she rolled her eyes at you.

But she listened to your words, her and Alicent leaving the kitchen to go sit at the balcony, you rarely ever used.

When Aegon saw they were out of earshot, he spoke again. "Besides, I didn't actually get fired" he had a stupid grin all over his face, you already knew he had done something he wasn't suppose to.

"So turns out, the waitress was dating one of the line cooks" Aegon explained, as he took a sip of the wine. "So imagine my surprise when I was fucking said waitress, and the line cook was suddenly in her apartment." Aegon was laughing between his word. You shook your head at how ridiculous it all was, and at the fact that Aegon was finding it all quite amusing.

"And that meant you had to quit?" you chuckled, tilting your head at him. The thought of Aegon scrubbing dishes next to the guy whose girlfriend he’d slept with was ridiculous, but Aegon needed that job. He couldn't just quit at a moments notice. But you weren't his mother, you shouldn't try to scold him.

"You also just quit your job," Aegon snapped back, his eyebrows knitting together in irritation. It was like he didn’t see the difference between his situation and yours. Aegon quit because he slept with a coworker, you quit because you wouldn't sleep with one.

You took the wine glass from his hand, finishing what was left, the taste of the wine lingering on your tongue. "I didn’t quit because I slept with a coworker," you whispered, knowing Aegon wouldn't understand the difference in your circumstances. But at the end of the day, the both you had quit your jobs. Quitting was always the easiest option.

You looked at him. Noticed how his hair had gotten longer, slightly wet from the rain, it had probably been growing out for months, but you hadn't noticed until now. You and Aegon weren't particularly close. More like two stray cats that kept coming back to the same place.

"You need a haircut" you blurted out, completely tossing aside the topic you had been speaking about. You saw how Aegons eyebrows knitted his eyebrows together again, but not in irritation.

"Maybe I should apply where you worked," Aegon joked, dismissing your comment about his hair, as he hoped off the counter, he had clearly lost interest in the conversation now. The mention of his hair, struck a nerve, you didn't quite understand why.

You barely had time to react before he was calling for his mom to get the keys, not even bothering with to say goodbye, not even something as simple as a wave. Aegon left when he wanted, and never cared to look back.

When Aegon was a child, Alicent would place a chair against his door, every night. He had run away so many times, and locking the doors never helped, he always managed to get away. But by having the chair against his door, she would hear the sound of it scrape against the wooden floors, alerting her he might run away.

Sometimes she contemplated going back to sleep. He would always came back anyways.

Aegon never had a plan when he ran away, sometimes not even putting his shoes on. But running away was always on his mind, but running away didn't help him.

taglist

@p5510n4f4shi0n @primroseluna

[autisticlancemcclain]

“The Exoxins are very…” Coran purses his lips, searching for the word. “Particular, let’s say.”

Hunk cocks his head. “In what way?”

“They’re quite fixated on personal appearances. They have been known to refuse alliances in the past when diplomats don’t meet their… aesthetic expectations.”

Before Keith can make a slightly mean joke about keeping Shiro on the castle, then (it’s been too long since he has been humbled), Lance snorts. Without bothering to look up from his doodling, half slumped over his station on the bridge, he says, “Well, we better send Keefers. Only way we’ll get a guaranteed alliance.”

“Okay, asshole, real funn — wait.” Keith blinks. That’s not the insult he thought it was. “Did you just — are you flirting with me?”

Lance flicks brown eyes up to meet his, eyebrows raised, amused smirk on his face. “Have been for a year now, thanks for noticing.”

Keith’s jaw drops. He feels a blush climbing up his neck like he’s a fuckin’ kettle, boiling from the bottom up, because what.

“What.”

“Keith.” The rampant redness on Keith’s face must give Lance pause, because he finally turns his whole attention towards him, straightening up from his seat and facing him head on. “I thought you were just ignoring me. You’re telling me your dumb ass has just been — what, completely oblivious to it?”

“I’m not obvious,” Keith argues, strained. He’s well aware of the snickering behind him and chooses to ignore it. “Usually your flirting is horrible and obnoxious and gets you rightfully punched, so excuse me for not noticing.” He waits a beat, and then tacks on, “Or tied to a tree.”

He’s gratified to see Lance’s smug demeanour crack at the mention of the Nyma incident.

“That was four years ago, dipstick. I was seventeen. It doesn’t take away from the fact that you are so thick headed that you are incapable of taking a hint. Did you think I kept finding reasons to be shirtless around you for fun?”

Keith sputters. He had noticed that Lance was shirtless around him an awful lot, but in his defence he was putting his braincells more towards memorizing a broad back and a glittering belly piercing rather than, like, puzzling out why the fuck Lance wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“I thought you were — hot, or something!”

Lance grins wolfishly. “You think I’m hot?”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Is that what you want to see?”

Keith makes a hoarse screeching noise in the back of his throat. It is echoed behind him, by all of his friends, actually, but for entirely different reasons, and he hates them all and they are all written out of his will.

Lance slowly stands from his seat, soundlessly stalking over to where Keith stands, leaning against a wall. Keith considers braining himself against a hard surface so he does not half to deal with Lance stupid sexy leer and sparkling eyes et cetera.

“‘Cause if it is,” Lance murmurs, placing a hand next to Keith’s head and leaning in close, “all you had to do was ask, baby.”

“I am going to kill you with fire,” Keith croaks.

Lance chuckles. “Sure, caliente.” He kisses Keith’s cheek and saunters back to his chair. Keith considers asking his lions to help him change his bayard into an anvil and chucking it at Lance’s face. It does not help his situation.

“Well,” Coran says awkwardly, after what can only be several minutes of charged silence. “the good news is that if we send you both that alliance is as good as guaranteed.”

[vericey]

"They’re fashionable, Furina had told him weeks before, surrounded by a cloud of blue silk in the tailor’s fitting-room. At Neuvillette’s shoulder, a seamstress had hovered, breathing uncomfortably close to the place where his gills should be as she measured the circumference of his neck. Besides, with your height, a little bit of a heel will have everyone bowing down before you even have to speak. Humans respond better to orders from tall people.

Neuvillette had looked at Fontaine’s Archon, barely over five feet even in her own high heels, and sighed. She had claimed her presence was necessary for the tailoring of his official robes, and her advice sorely needed for the garments underneath, but he suspects she had primarily been motivated by the complimentary cake and sparkling wine that the shop’s owner had foisted on her the minute she stepped through the door. She had licked a dab of cream from her thumb and glared at him until he acquiesced, and allowed himself to be poured into the odd boots brought forth by a shop assistant."

[velvetwyrms]

An anatomical/‘realistic’ drawing of Alien!Gaara from my AU. (POV you’re Lee drooling up at him.)

Go and read the fic here!!

Gaara just has a pretty average body type in the fic. Strong shoulders, back & chest from carrying things all day across long distances, a little lanky, a bit of a softer belly from resting when he can and eating well to keep up energy.

This took me 3 hours and I’m really happy with it! 🥰

[Please reblog to stop my hours of hard work from dying in your likes. This let’s others enjoy it and motivates me to write/draw more of this AU! <3]

[vaguely-concerned]

Garashir ficlet, PG, context is that Garak is about to go do… Something on his own (specifics very much ????? but probably something foolhardy and secretive and doomed ala Improbable Cause) and Julian is Not Having It this time. Probably fits into some of the later seasons vibes-wise. 

Julian said tightly: “My Kardasi might still need some work, but — ”

“Oh, no at all, considering how recently you started your studies your efforts are downright impressive, if, ah — charmingly archaic at times. If that’s to be laid at anyone’s feet it should be mine, probably, remind me to recommend you something written within the last few centuries sometime soon.” 

Giving this attempt at diversion exactly as much consideration as it deserved, Julian completely ignored him and finished his own line of thought: “ — but at this point I have a veritable doctorate in Garakese. There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“Many things, I’m sure. If I’d known you had any interest in the optimal soil composition in which to grow Lovalan roses, I would have gladly shared my insight. All you had to do is ask, my dear. In the spirit of cross-cultural knowledge exchange, I always stand ready to chip in and do my par — ”

“Elim.” 

That made Garak blink, just that split second too long, even as his face remained perfectly still and smiling around it. It was subtle enough that an unaugmented eye might not have caught it, but Julian’s did.

No longer bothering to hide his own desperation, Julian pressed on: “Elim, please. You’ve got me worried with this. I want to help in any way I can, and — and I don’t like to think about what might happen if I can’t.”

There was a moment of silence between them in which Julian could hear his own quickened breathing too loudly in his ears. 

“That’s… characteristically kind of you, Doctor,” Garak said eventually, voice slightly hushed, like someone trying not to wake a sleeping child in another room. “But there is nothing to worry about. Really.” 

“Brush me off if you really feel like you have to, but please, at least do me the courtesy of not going out of your way to insult my intelligence while you’re at it,” Julian snapped. “How stupid do you think I am? How do you expect me to just close my eyes and sit back like nothing’s wrong while you — ”

Garak sighed. “You’re right, that was unworthy of me. Please, put it down to old habit, not a lack of respect. Very well, then let me rephrase what I was trying to say slightly, in order to be more precise — whatever might or might not be going on, there’s absolutely nothing you can do, and I really would rather you stayed out of it. Knowing you to be safely out of the line of fire would provide me with infinitely more comfort and utility than anything you could actively do to help. Which, again, is nothing.”

“But — ”

“Julian. Please.” 

Julian would have been thrown less off-balance if Garak had punched him square in the jaw. “Oh, that’s a dirty trick,” he said, unsteadily. 

“And here I thought ‘turnabout is fair play’ was a guiding Human principle,” Garak said, and his tone was light but his eyes were soft and very sad. “I see I have been misinformed.”    

The idea that Julian’s initial exposure to the Cardassian language leaves him speaking it like the equivalent of a Regency era novel or something to contemporary Cardassian ears in the beginning is a headcanon that is so dear to me  

[bogkeep]

got ambushed by the sudden urge to draw one of my absolute favourite scenes from @cola-grey's wedding trifecta fic. (happy is not a character in the canon, she is cola's OC created for a highschool reunion fic, she is one of morgan's friends and works as an admin for the fairness association)

[desceros]

rise donnie mating season head canons?

If you want only.

pfffft do i wanna think about rise donnie during mating season.... absurd....[tries to hide my sweaty palms]

so i go back and forth on how much turtle-brain gets activated, but regardless, donnie is a biter. (i mean. i think he's always a biter.) like, sink his teeth in to the point where it hurts, sometimes draws blood biting. and he's quite aggressive about putting you where he wants you, so if you move even a little bit, he's sinking his teeth and nails in to keep you in place.

i tend to think of it lasting about a week most times. it hits him a little slow, like he can feel it coming up on him a week or so before it's going to hit. before he had you to help him through it, it was a miserable experience. the whole time he's horny, nothing is scratching the itch properly, he just wants to get back to work. then you come into the picture, and oh, oh it's fucking incredible; there are a few little hiccups here and there i'll talk about later, but in general, he ends up really looking forward to it because afterwards he feels completely rejuvenated, like it's a new year and he's ready to go

sometimes... on my naughtier days........ i like to imagine that he's not really capable of hearing a safe word during the thick of things. and that really scares him a lot. the first couple of times, it scared you, too, just a little; but after a few seasons where you realized that hey, you're fully on board with everything he's got to offer, you talked about it and you're good to go. donnie's.... never really good to go, but he trusts you enough to know your limits.

the first time you have sex during mating season, it's still pretty normal. it's heating up in him, he's still got his brain in his skull, he's just uncomfortably horny. he tries to make it sweet bc he knows the absolute railing you're in for, and no matter how many years you go through it together or how many times you promise that you love it, he's always a little moody about how much he hurts you, and he likes to make up for it.

i headcanon donnie to be the king of giving head (helloooo sensory bliss), but i think this comes and goes during his heat. like, sometimes he gets his head between your legs and he is just fuckin down there for hours. you're going to cry. good chance you'll pass out. it's gonna be so much that you're not going to be able to handle it. and sometimes he's too busy stuffing you full to do anything but pin you to the bed.

most of the time, during his heat, he's got you face-down and fucking you from behind. it's how turtles do it, and that's what his little brain likes. though one time, very memorably, he missed his heat sneaking up on him and you started in a pool. somehow you managed not to drown, but the tumbling underwater with your boyfriend's dick what felt like up to your throat was a pretty great experience.

donnie is always noisy in bed. during his heat this continues, but he talks a lot more about breeding you. you ask him, once, afterwards if he has a kink and wants to explore it outside of his season; and he says no, not really, but something about the hormones in his brain just scream that he's gotta fertilize your eggs.

i picture donnie as a switch, but i think during his mating season that's out of the picture. he's fucking you, period. you're not going to be on top. you're not going to eat him out. he's going to be putting his dick inside of you, and that's where his come is gonna go. no eating it, no painting it anywhere, just inside.

after he puts his dick away for the last time and gets his brain back between his ears, the first thing he does is check and see how badly he's fucked you up. he bandages any wounds you haven't already tended to yourself, gives you a full body massage to work out the kinks of where he bent you in all kinds of funny positions, and then the two of you have a ritual where you take a bath together. it's really tender and sweet, and you scrub each other down and talk about what happened, what you liked, what you didn't like. then, while he goes off to get some food for the both of you (because he doesn't want you to leave his room where his brothers can smell you), you change the sheets on the bed, and after a quick snack the two of you collapse and pass out for like. twelve hours