#i didn't want to change their design too much so of course i had to go with pigtails senku

[bookishwithathought]

ACOSF Bonus Chapter Breakdown Part V - Azriel and Gwyn

Part I - Azriel and Elain

Part II - Azriel and Elain

Part III - Azriel and Rhys

Part IV - Azriel and Rhys

**This is just me, analyzing the life out of the bonus chapter and all the possibilities. My thoughts and no one else's. If you agree, great. If you disagree, love it. If you want to share why you disagree, love it even more. If you are disrespectful while disagreeing, I kindly request that you move along and if you insist you will be left to argue with yourself**

Back to control

"If you don't feel you don't hurt."

"If you don't feel you don't suffer."

"If you don't feel they can't break you."

Or know how close to breaking you got.

Azriel seems to be someone who feels too much and too deeply without a healthy outlet.

"tonight had proved he'd been right to do so."

This glimpse into his mind suggests that Az knew, consciously and subconsciously, his feelings were misplaced. He had known all along he ought to heed reason and not entertain or act upon those desires. If it were right, there'd be no regret.

Azriel arrived at the training pit with intense emotions that were overwhelming him and threatening to override reason.

The shadows also had not warned Azriel of Elain's presence earlier in the chapter, yet the author chose to only note it here.

Possibilties for the lack of warning:

The shadows didn't sense the person that was at the training pit

The shadows wanted Azriel to run into whoever was at the training pit and did not want to give him the chance to change course

The shadows were curious about the person who was at the training pit and they wanted to engage with the person.

Azriel wanted to be alone in this moment but didn't want to give the wrong impression that he is avoiding whoever was there. Azriel is a considerate character.

Chill, ice: ice and the cold are words often used to describe Azriel's moods, attitude or reactions.

It's late into the night of Winter Solstice and Gwyn is training alone.

Something is making her restless and in need of working it off

She has found something to give her focus and an outlet for her competitive streak

Gwyn wants to make sure she'll never again be vulnerable

The mask is back on and whole, containing everything he feels deeply within.

The shadows peered over his wing at her.:

The shadows are being highlighted in this section of the bonus chapter, as though their behavior is important to note.

They are curious about Gwyn, something rarely seen throughout the series.

Azriel's shadows are often met with fear, awe and outrigh disgust, so it is refreshing to see someone react to them in a positive manner, considering Azriel has noted his shadows are his companions, who would always be with him, making them essentially a part of his very existence. And not only react positively but treat them as their own entity, sentient beings worthy of recognition and attention.

Azriel again noticed his shadows are curious about Gwyn, something not seen before in the books.

"hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear":

Here are a few potential meanings behind this simple movement

Sign of attraction - a non-verbal way of exposing a persona's facial features, making them seem more open to the other person

A comforting or self-soothing gesture - a way to manage one's emotions in an uncormfortable situation or intense conversation. It serves as a small distraction, allowing the person a moment to collect themselves

A display of confidence - exposing one's face can signal they're not afraid to assert their presence and take up space

A flirting signal - hair tucking is a "preening" behavior in the animal kingdom, actions designed to improve one's appearance or attract a mate. It can signal their interest to the other person

Expression of nervousness - self touch providing a calming effect on the nervous system

Simply a habit developed over the years for any or no reason

Possibilities

Azriel being considerate of Gwyn's comfort level being in the cold

2. He is trying to subtly coax her to go inside so he can be alone in the training pit

3. This is an attempt at making polite conversation before excusing himself

4. Az is as curious about Gwyn as his shadows

Gwyn answers in stride.

After Azriel saved Gwyn in Sangravah, Mor brought Gwyn to the library where she's lived since then. Azriel remembers her, though he had not seen her since, until he began to help Cassian train the priestesses.

There is a hint of awkwardness in this moment.

It is great to note the difference in Gwyn through Azriel's perspective, since he is the one who found her at her worst moment. He's able to witness her growth and healing.

Based on ACOSF's depiction of her, the Gwyn standing before Az is determined, caring, stubborn, competitive and rises to the challenge. She is strong mentally and physically, which she already was before, but Azriel had not yet seen it.

SJM retconned the attack on Sangravah so Azriel would not only be present but would be the first to get there (emphasis mine):

From ACOMAF:

But Azriel confirmed that they’d raided the memorial in Sangravah three days ago. They’re looking for something—or found it.” Azriel nodded in confirmation, even as Mor cast a surprised look in his direction. Azriel gave her an apologetic shrug back.

From ACOSF:

“The first had just unbuckled his belt when Azriel arrived.” Silent, unending tears streamed down Gwyn’s face. “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it. Morrigan arrived a few minutes later, and then Rhysand appeared, and it became clear some of the soldiers had gotten away with the piece of the Cauldron, so Azriel headed after them.

Once the moment passes, Gwyn gives Azriel an opening to leave.

Az had originally gone to the training pit to be alone, and he could've taken this opportunity to leave and find solitude somewhere else. Instead he chooses to stay in Gwyn's company.

Their interaction is very direct in a comfortable way. There’s a sense of familiarity.

This shows Gwyn is perceptive and capable of reading others well. Azriel certainly wouldn't have volunteered this information.

"Her mouth quirked to the side":

She realized she has figured out why Azriel went to the training pit late at night on a holiday and is amused to know he's not as hard to read as he likes to think.

Azriel tries to slip back the mask on with a lie

Gwyn challenges the lie

This moment provides another example of how caring Az is.

Az decides to indulge Gwyn and accept the invitation to banter with her. In this moment he is lighter, compared to before arriving at the training pit.

To be continued...

[fioleespring]

pov: listening to your girlfriend gush about astrophysics and not understanding a word of it, but it's ok cause her voice sounds beautiful when she's excited

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[ajortga]

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

part 2

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

..

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

-

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex

a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.

You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.

He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.

"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.

"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.

He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.

From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.

The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.

Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.

While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.

Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.

Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.

You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.

The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.

"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.

The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.

You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.

You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.

He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.

It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.

The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.

"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.

You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.

"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.

"And she's all dressed up just for me"

[matrixbearer2024]

Enough With The Schemes!

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Ngl I kinda had this in my drafts just because I didn't know how it'd ever fit into the story but I decided to fix it up and post it after @vespers-night-sky's fanart for the "Get Off My Screen" Series- the direct continuation and reader's death is in the works folks, I've just been trying to figure out the pacing ahsojskqjds- I am not gonna be a Hazbin Hotel episode jkjkjk Anyway, thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL for the support with the series and think of these little things as filler episodes before the big reveal. Anyways, as usual- happy reading and I hope you all enjoy! The series in it's entirety can be found on my blog under the #Get Off My Screen Series

You didn't know how much more of Vox's shenanigans you could take.

First it had been the wallpaper war-

Until now you couldn't stop his face from being a permanent fixture to your devices-

But it was fine, he could have that!

You lamented over not having [Favorite Fictional Character Name] in your backgrounds anymore but you know what it was fineeeee-

You honestly couldn't tell if having his glitchy grinning face was an upgrade or cringe central.

Then he figured out how to absolutely lag out your computer at some point.

You seriously wanted to punch his monitor head from frustration because of it.

Especially when he had the nerve to laugh at your irritation-

This asshole-!

Now, he was absolutely blowing up your phone and devices with memes or just anything under the sun.

Not that messing with the notification settings would help-

Because somehow he'd figured out how to completely bypass those too.

If this was why that Alastor guy and Vox had a tiff you could practically relate.

Your phone just continued to buzz and vibrate on the table next to you.

Not that you could be fucked with it at the moment trying to cram a paper your professor assigned last BLOODY MINUTE!

That was of course until the Vox desktop companion grabbed the cursor and just didn't let you have it back.

As much as you tried, the darn thing only emoted angrily and refused to give you back the damn arrow.

Your eye twitched as you tried to maintain your cool, only to get up from the desk and scream obscenities to no one in particular.

The day had been a particularly bad one and you really just couldn't deal with Vox's bullshit right now.

"Helloooooo! HELLOOOOOOO?! Earth to (Y/N)! Pick up your fucking phone!!!"

Oh for the love of god he better not have changed your ringtone too-

You rubbed your face in an attempt to calm down before finally checking your phone.

Honestly you expected it to be something really stupid, but seeing what his messages were about made you feel slightly guilty for ignoring him the whole day.

Vox grew used to the routine you both had, so it was no surprise that your sudden inactivity drove his anxiety up the walls.

Poor guy thought of all the worst possible cases that could've happened to you-

He'd greet you in the morning and you would always reply afterwards while eating breakfast.

Save for the times you'd gotten sick or just felt under the weather.

After all, you had classes in the morning and he had broadcasts to air.

You also hated being tardy, similar to how he saw punctuality as something extremely important.

The two of you would intermittently chat within the day and tell each other if you had work to do so you both could leave each other alone for a designated time.

Vox often didn't adhere to this, but he'd always keep his distractions to a minimum if you asked.

Actually neither did you, sometimes you'd be the one spam sending him anything you could think of just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Then you would wish him a good night's rest and he would eventually reply back with a silly gif or emoji that bode you the same.

He just grew used to it, the familiarity of your companionship in his monotonous day to day.

So whenever something fell apart in the routine you both had, Vox couldn't help but worry that something happened to you.

Whether you'd gotten sick or just anything worse-

It didn't sit well with him when you didn't reply to his morning message like you often did.

Constantly checking his phone for any updates from you to find nothing.

Zilch, none, zero.

The worrying feeling only grew as time ticked onwards.

Even at your busiest you would still shoot him a memo saying that you were.

Which only made this radio silence-

Haha see what I did there-

Worse than it really was.

So what did Vox do?

Absolutely blow up your phone and devices trying to get your attention.

Only when he realized you were doing something on your laptop did he let the desktop companion he made for you interfere.

Not that he even really understood what he'd stuck his hands into.

"What the hell even happened to you today? You didn't even reply to any of my fucking messages! I thought something happened to you!"

"Well SORRY I couldn't reply to your terminally online ass. I was busy dealing with my shitty assignment workload."

The TV overlord quickly picked up that you weren't in a pleasant mood.

The way you typed was just a dead giveaway.

Glancing up at his schedule, Vox notified his secretary to cancel a few of his meetings before he replied to you.

"Anything I can help you with? I'm free for a good few hours."

You were taken aback by his offer, every time Vox would help you he didn't even bother asking.

He just straight up started editing whatever you were working on no matter what you said.

Who was this guy and what did he do with Vox-

"You aren't trying to bullshit me are you? Cuz I'm not in the mood."

"I can tell dollface, let me guess- your shitty professor again?"

You ended up ranting about the abruptly given assignment and just a bunch of other things that slowly ruined your day.

Vox just agreed with you here and there, shooting one word replies or emojis to show he was still listening.

All the while he made the desktop companion let go of your cursor and he looked over your work.

Wow your writing was still absolutely shit-

"So now I've gotta submit this fucking paper before midnight or I'll get a 40% deduction."

"Don't worry about it, we can finish this in an hour. Anything else?"

It was an economics paper you were struggling on and this was Vox you were talking to.

You shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew his way around the topic.

You glanced up from your phone and already saw him editing your essay.

Why didn't you just ask him for help sooner??

"I think I can handle the rest. Thanks anyway, mind if I put on some music while I write?"

"As long as I get to pick some of the songs."

"Deal."

It shouldn't have done anything really.

You shouldn't be having this funny feeling in your gut.

A fuzzy warmth that bloomed because Vox was so quick to drop everything and help you.

Even if it was just something minor like your paper.

Still, you couldn't help but smile as you put on some relaxing tunes and typed away alongside your favorite digital companion.

Just like that, you both melted back into the usual cycle of talking and working.

A casual harmony that you were more than happy to just live in for the moment.

BONUS:

Both you and Vox were just casually chatting by the time his secretary called him away for the scheduled broadcast.

Of course, you wished you could see what he was actually doing but stopped before you could say so.

Instead you just wished Vox well in the broadcast.

"Of course doll, and you know me! I'll be just fine."

Well, his broadcast was going fine-

Until his screen suddenly glitched and randomly played a tune from your playlist.

Had he forgotten to unlink himself from your devices?

It took a few seconds for Vox to compose himself but his show thankfully went on without another hitch.

You on the other hand?

You were just having a personal concert in your room to unwind while waiting for Vox to come back.

So it came as a surprise when the song you played randomly paused and made the Bluetooth disconnect sound.

You didn't connect it to anything-?

Though your questions were eventually answered when Vox blew up your phone again.

This time you couldn't help but laugh.

You were friends with a demonic overlord sure-

But it was hard to fear him when he was such a doofus.

[eimids]

Can I request a Alexia putellas x wife reader, like the reader is a billionaire but the team mistakenly thought that the reader is using Alexia for money or fame because of how the reader dress just like simple clothes and the team tell the reader to leave ale alone... Thank you.....

I changed it to girlfriend just cause it fit better with the story line.

But yeah that's the summery

Warnings: panic attack but not really anything else

You had inherited your parents company after their passing. It had something to do with politics so you weren’t really that interested. And you were only 14 at the time. So when you turned 18 you sold the company to the highest bidder.

That’s how you ended up with a shit ton of money. You had so much of it that it was overwhelming to you. You didn’t really tell anyone about your money situation, not even Alexia. When you started dating, it was the year 2022. Alexia had just ruptured her ACL and was at a bar drinking her sorrows away. Not the most romantic place to meet but for you it was perfect. After a year of dating you had finally told Alexia about your money situation. She understood what it felt like to have so much money, so she helped you with managing it. You donated some of it to different charities. Some of them you put on your savings and some of it you kept on your bank account.

You didn’t dress in designer clothing and didn’t appear to others as a rich person although you had millions. You didn’t want anyone to view you differently because of your money. Alexia loved that about you. She loved how you were down to earth type of person and didn't care about money and what others might think of you. You also hated using money. Although you knew that you had enough many to not work anymore at all, you still felt the need to buy the cheapest things available.

You didn’t really meet Alexia’s friends properly due to her ACL injury. You had met some of them quickly after matches but didn’t get to actually know any of them. They always seemed nice and they made Alexia happy so that was the most important thing.

But the thing about her teammates was that they thought that you were some kind of a gold digger. They heard how Alexia talked about buying you expensive gifts and posting you to her Instagram. They knew that Alexia had money and popularity. You could easily gain a status for yourself. They also knew that Ale could be quite naive sometimes and they wanted to protect her.

They started asking some subtle questions about you. Things like where did you work and did you know who Ale was before meeting her. The answers to those questions didn't ease their doubts. You, a coffee shop worker and a huge football fan, didn't have that big of a salary and you of course knew who Alexia was. In fact, that's why you went to talk to her that day in the bar.

"She's using her for money" Jenni Hermoso was the first to say those words out loud. She didn't like you, you were too good to be true for Alexia. Something had to be wrong with you. Was it jealousy or did she actually care about Alexia's feelings getting hurt? We'll never know.

"You can't know that. Maybe she's in love with Alexia, at least Alexia is in love with her. I mean you all have seen how she looks at her and the way she talks about her. She's head over heels for that girl" Mapi tried to reason. She didn't want to think ill of you, but Jenni was good at convincing the others.

"Well yeah that's the point. Ale is in love with her, and she's probably just in for the money. Alexia just talked how she is going to buy y/n this necklace that costs way too much. I mean I even heard y/n once ask Alexia to bye her some earrings. Clearly she just wants attention and money" Jenni tried to convince the others.

The girls kept talking about the situation for a while before Alexia showed up.

"Oh hi, I'm sorry I'm late. Y/n and I went to this fancy restaurant and time just went by" She explained why she was late to the team bonding night. "Oh look at her in this photo, she looks so cute" She showed the photo to the others.

You were sitting there with a gold necklace hanging from your neck. You were wearing a Gucci dress, which you didn't even really want but Alexia bought it to you still. Her teammates didn't know that and were just thought you made Alexia buy it for you.

"Oh that's a nice dress, bet it costs a lot" Jenni stated.

"Well yeah it was quite expensive but I love to pamper my girl. She's just always stressing about money so I want to show her that she doesn't have to" Alexia explained. When she said you were stressing about money, she meant the fact that you felt bad for having so much of it and it made you anxious. What her friends thought she meant was that you were poor.

"Oh could you drive me home? i would call y/n but her phone broke and she hasn't gotten a new yet. I'm probably going to have to buy her a new so I can reach her" Alexia joked.

"Oh yeah jump in" Jenni answered. She shared looks with the other girls to see if they had heard what Alexia said. Now Patri and Marta were convinced.

"Could I come quickly inside to have some water?" Jenni asked. And Alexia said it was fine of course.

They walked to your home which you share with Alexia. It was an apartment in a good neighborhood. You had split the costs of it but obviously Jenni didn't know that.

"Hi baby I'm home and Jenni is me, I'm just gonna head to the shower" Ale yelled to you and left the hallway to the bathroom. You came from the bedroom to greet your girlfriend and her friend.

"Hi Jenni" You smiled to the brunette. She just hummed.

"So what's your deal with Alexia, you just using her for money or what?" Jenni went straight to the point now that she had the perfect chance to ask you.

"What, no, i love her I would never use her for her money" You were quick to reply. You were shocked that she would even suggest that.

"Well you clearly don't have any money as you can't even pay for a new phone or the dresses you wear" Jenni stated. She was getting frustrated.

"No it's not that, she want's to buy those thing, I've never asked for any of them" You answered dumbstruck.

"Yeah Alexia might be naive enough to think that but I'm not. Break up with her before we'll tell her what you really want from her." Jenni just said and left.

The rest of that night you were quiet and Ale was confused of what happened. She didn't push it thought, maybe you just had a long day.

The next day you drove Alexia to prac. You were nervous to get close to the training grounds but didn't want to be weird so that Alexia wouldn't notice.

"Bye love, have a good prac" You said to her as she hopped out of the car.

You stayed for a bit to change the music and just like that there was a girl knocking on the window of your car. You lowered the window so you could talk.

"Umm is everything okay?" You asked the woman who you had identified as Marta.

"I'm guessing you didn't have a talk with Ale like Jenni suggested?" She just said casually.

"No, I'm not using her for her money" You tried to reason.

"Yeah, I guess we just have to tell her the truth" Marta said and left.

You were afraid. What if Ale would believe them There was no reasonable reason why she would but you still got scared. How did you come off as a gold digger? Why did her friends hate you so much that they came up with that?

You made your way back to home where you bursted to tears. You had always hated the idea of people seeing you differently because of money. And when you tried your hardest to avoid that, it was exactly what happened. They thought that all you wanted from your girlfriend was money. You were scared that Alexia would believe them and then she would just break up. All the worst scenarios came to your mind and soon enough you were in a full panic attack.

"Ale we need to talk" Jenni said to Ale immediately after training.

"Um okay? Is everything ok?" Alexia answered.

"Well no, we all have noticed that y/n is most likely using you just for money and you're just too naive to see that" Jenni started. Alexia grew mad immediately.

"Why would you think that? Of course she's not after the money" Alexia replied angrily.

Jenni tried to explain to Alexia why they thought that you didn't actually love Ale. They explained that it was weird that you didn't mention the conversation you had with Jenni the other night.

"You talked to her about this?! You accused her of being a gold digger? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Alexia panicked. She knew that money was a sensitive topic for you.

Alexia tried to call you but you didn't answer so she just ordered herself a taxi.

"Y/n is the sweetest human being and you are here accusing her of something she didn't do!" Alexia yelled.

"You just can't see it Ale, she's using you" Marta tried.

"Fuck you, and just for your information, she has more money than I do" Alexia yelled and left the room.

She impatiently waited for the taxi. The drive home was a suffering experience. Now she realized why you had been so quiet the night before. She hated her teammates for making you think that you would be just a gold digger.

"Baby I'm here" She yelled when she got home. She was nervous when you didn't come and greet her.

She walked to the bedroom where she found you draped in your comfort blanket. So clearly trying to calm yourself down.

"Oh y/n I'm so sorry" Alexia said as she hurried to your side. She knew you loved physical touch so she made sure to give that to you to help you calm down.

"They shouldn't have said any of that, they are all wrong. I know that you love me and you know that I love you. That's all that matters. They don't know anything about you and they were being assholes with even thinking those thing about you" Alexia said. She was being sincere, you could hear it in her voice.

That helped you calm down. You loved Alexia and she loved you.

--

I lowkey hate how this turned out. The anon ask was amazing but I feel like I couln't write it properly.

[chaoticloving]

idk if you write smut so if you’re uncomfortable totally ignore this!!! but!!! imagine y/n and recently fiance!harry and him fingering you with his ring finger talking abt marriage and shit 🫣🫣

future husband

Harry styles x reader (masterlist)

summary: Harry proposes and it leads to sex

warnings: smut

a/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK TOO LONG I JUST NEEDED TO BE IN THE RIGHT MOOD TO WRITE SMUT AND THEN TUMBLR DIDNT PUT IT IN THE TAGS AHHH

Harry's ring obsession started when he was in his early twenties.

He rarely wore any type of a jewelry or anything flamboyant when he was younger. He painted his nails on occasion, something to relax himself with or whenever Y/n was doing hers, but nothing too grand.

But a simple silver chain given by his one and only changed that.

He started getting a little more into jewelry, necklaces, earrings, and his favorite, rings. He liked the intricate designs that rings ment; they could be loud and a stable piece, or they could be a subtle addition to the outfit.

They could also symbolize love.

After dating Y/n for three months, he knew he was certain that he wanted to stay forever with her, he just didn't allow himself to think of marriage this early into a relationship--at least not until his mother asked when he was going to propose after meeting her around their six-moth anniversary.

Finally though, after just under two years, he popped the question. He got a beautiful engagement ring, a band with beautiful engravings throughout, and of course, a huge fucking rock.

"Harry." Y/n sniffled, seeing Harry on his knee, ring in hand. "Of course, yes!"

A lovely proposal in a quiet and quant cottage away from civilization was perfect and exactly what they needed, not only for their privacy but for the ability to have sex in the middle of the woods. Harry bought this property not too long ago and waited for the right moment to take Y/n there, a proposal seemed like the best time.

The kissing of course led to more, how could it not? Harry was always a passionate lover, always eager to please, so it was honestly no surprise when the soft kiss turned more sensual.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you finally asked." Y/n mumbled softly as their lips kept touching, coming back for more. "Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you as my husband."

Harry moved onto her neck, biting softly as he went down. "It's all I've ever wanted." He groaned as Y/n's hand trailed down to his pants, she teased him slightly, earning a moan from him. "And to please you again. Lay down."

Y/n made herself comfortable on the blue and white picnic blanket. Harry moved the basket and wine bottles out of the way. He pulled flipped her dress up, revealing her lacy set on panties.

"Planning to seduce me today?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I had a hunch you might be asking me to marry you." She shrugged her shoulders, biting her lip to hide, poorly, a cheeky smile.

"How?" Harry gasped, his fingers tracing the band of her underwear. "It was top secret!"

"Oh come on, H." She giggled, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "You take me on a surprise getaway, no one around, to a cottage that is darling... It's the most romantic thing you have ever done."

Harry blushed. The midday sun gleaming perfectly on his skin, twinkling his green eyes and highlighting the freckles that scattered his slightly tanned skin. Y/n couldn't help but feel so lucky. This beautiful man, inside and out, is now her fiancé; she started to tear up, which, of course, caused Harry to tear up as well.

"No don't start baby." She told him. "We need to focus so we can have sex. No tears now."

She wiped her tears then Harry's. "You started it." He mumbled, smiling as he finally pulled her panties down. "We just love each other too much."

"I guess so-" Y/n gasped as Harry entered a figure into her. The familiar feeling was welcomed as the subtle feeling of pleasure began to buble up inside of her. "Fuck that feels so good."

Harry was leaning half on and half off of her, his right hand fingering. her while his other held him up so he could kiss by her ear.

"Don't get one of your rings stuck in me." She warned, looking sternly at her love. Harry shook his head and kissed her softly.

"I would never."

Harry had on a simple band, one similar to the new one adorned on Y/n's finger. He figured while he was buying the engagement ring he could buy a matching one for himself.

"I can't wait to marry you." He spoke softly, creating a new hickey just under her ear lobe. "Gonna wanna fuck you again when I see you in that dress, don't know if I could wait till the honeymoon."

He added a finger, adding to the pleasure.

"And seeing you with that ring...It's going to be as sexy as your lingerie. Just knowing you're mine and I'm the only one that can ever see you like this."

"Fuck, H. Gonna come."

"I'm the only one who will get to see my wife like this. And everyone will know I can only to this do you...I'm the only one capable." Harry's words were possessive yet reassuring, the constant validation that he was the only one for her pushed her over the edge, leaving a gasp from her mouth.

"Har I need you inside." She yanked him fully on-top of her, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down after Harry quickly pulled his fingers out of her, but not before a little taste.

He helped her strip himself, knowing she is just as possessive as him but just doesn't always vocalize it, but her actions speak louder than her lack of words.

Harry entered Y/n, the euphoric feeling washing over him as he let out a loud moan, mentally thanking himself for buying the isolated land. "Feel so good."

"You stretch me out so much." She gasped. "My future husband."

Harry thrusted, a reflex from her words in her sexy, faint, voice. "Don't say that or else I'm going to come in less then a minute." He paused, staring into his loves eyes. "Want to impress my future wife."

"You impress me every day. Every time I see you I have something new I love about you." Y/n leaned in a kissed him, it was mainly teeth, but still perfect nonetheless. "Today it's your cock."

Harry stopped thrusting briefly. "You mean it hasn't impressed your before today?"

"It's the first time I've been impress by my fiancé's cock, I was already impressed when he was my boyfriend." She assured. Harry rolled his eyes and got back to thrusting, moving his ring finger down to her core and rubbing soft circles on her clit, making her jolt slightly.

"I'm gonna cum again, H."

"Me too."

They both moaned as they climaxed at the same time. Harry collapsed onto Y/n's chest, arms exhausted from keeping himself up. They stayed like that for no more then five minutes, Harry's cock softening inside of her as they relaxed.

"I can't believe you're going to be my wife." Harry thought out loud. "Never thought I'd work up the courage."

"Why? You knew I'd say yes."

"I dunno, just all the what-if's got inside my head. You know how that is." Harry mumbled, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. He kissed over her blooming hickeys too, soft contrast between his sexual and romantic desire for her.

"Well your next biggest concern is finding were to go for our honeymoon." Y/n said. "Might have to go all over."

"I'll pay for every penny of it."

"Most defiantly. You know I have expensive taste." Y/n joked. "The wedding is going to cost half a fortune on its own."

Harry smiled, kissing her cheek then her lips. "I'd spend all the money in the world to make you happy. I'd go broke to see you smile."

"Stop, you're going to make me cry again." She whispered, tears starting to form.

"I'll just kiss them away, my love." He sighed. "It's my job as your future husband."

[puddingyun]

watch . ݁₊ ⊹ j.yh

rockstar!yun x reader

18+ mdni

: 1.7k words, smut, mirror sex, dirty talk sorta :

day 3 of fff24 ♡

Yunho's changing room was usually milling with people. Staff members, managers, friends and friends of friends, wardrobe designers and makeup artists all clamouring over something or other that Yunho had to solve right at that moment. Now, though, when the show was over and everybody was turning into their respective hotel rooms and trailers for the night, the small room was quiet. 

On the vanity in front of the colossal mirror framed with light bulbs were remnants of the pre-concert chaos. Mascara-stained tissues, half-empty soda cups and a discarded belt painted the picture for what had gone on in here earlier. Amongst it all was an unlit scented candle that you knew Yunho took with him everywhere, one that smelled like home to him. You picked it up and sniffed softly, smiling at the familiar scent. You'd bought him the same candle years ago and suggested he put it on his bedside table when he told you he didn't know what the hell to do with a candle. Now he carried it like a good luck charm. 

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Slowly, Yunho's face peeked into the room, creased with worry. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice soft and small compared to how much space it filled when he was onstage. He stepped into the room and shut the door, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind and enveloping you in warmth. "What're you doing here? Figured you'd be upstairs waiting for me by now."

"Just wanted some quiet," you replied honestly, leaning into him and breathing in his scent. He smelled so different coming off of the stage, as though the adrenaline could be inhaled right off of his skin. You loved being around him when he was in that tangible glow. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. When you looked at his reflection in the mirror you found a knowing smile on his face - of course you wouldn't mind.

"Sit, baby," you whispered, standing from your spot on the chair to let him sit down. Once he'd settled, you sat down in his lap. From here you could admire both of your reflections in the mirror. Your beautiful rockstar and his sweet girl. You leaned back against him and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I loved the show, Yunnie."

Your fingertips scratched beneath his chin gently before they wandered down the column of his neck, stroking skin that was still damp with sweat. He smiled, one of his hands coming up to rest on your inner thigh, oh-so-warm through the fabric of your long skirt. You sighed softly, melting into him.

"That's just 'cause I had you in the audience," he said, tucking his face down against your shoulder and pressing soft kisses against your blouse. "Who would I be if I didn't put on a show for you?"

"You'd still be my Yunho," you replied quickly, not wanting him to think any of your love for him relied on the kind of show he could put on. You felt his chest rumble against your back as he laughed, kissing the crook of your neck. 

"I know, honey. You're too sweet for me, gonna give me cavities," he reassured you, gently stroking up and down your thigh. You lifted your head and met his eyes in the mirror. You watched his chest rise and fall, his hand playing with the fabric of your skirt and the other twitching impatiently where it rested on your hip. He watched you watch him as he leaned up and pressed a kiss behind your ear. It was like watching your favourite movie all alone at the theatre. "You wanna help me put on a show now, hon?"

It was risky, you thought to yourself. Yunho hadn't even locked the door on his way in. But the warmth of his hands was so inviting as they moved to squeeze your waist, pulling you flush against him so that you could feel the bulge in his pants against your ass. Your embarrassed reflection in the mirror only served to make your panties wet. Shyly, you nodded. 

"Alright, pretty lady," Yunho hummed softly, his lips trailing against your skin so lightly they felt like fluttering butterfly wings. 

One of his hands sneaked beneath your skirt, skilled fingers rubbing you through your panties until you were squirming and soaking through the soft fabric. All the while you watched as Yunho sucked a blotchy mark into your neck, as your chest rose and fell faster and faster. As his thumb pressed into your clit you arched into the contact, aching to feel more without your panties separating both of you. As you whined, Yunho chuckled.

"Please," you begged, your voice quiet even in the silence of the room. Life with Yunho was so loud and busy that sometimes being in the quiet with him felt more precious than anything else. 

"Please what?" Yunho asked. In the mirror you caught one of his eyebrows quirk upwards.

"Touch me for real," you whimpered. In reply, Yunho's free hand travelled up and squeezed your chest through your blouse. Even through the fabric you could feel his nail slowly circling your nipple, coming so close and never close enough. You bucked your hips into his touch with a long, loud whine. "Please, Yun. I want you."

"Yeah?" Yunho asked, enjoying how frustrated you were getting from his gentle teasing. The fabric of your panties was sopping wet by now, and the tips of his fingers were pushing against your entrance in a way that had you shaking and clenching around nothing. 

"Yes," you gasped. "I want to put on a good show for you too. I want- want you to watch me while you fuck me."

With those words, a switch seemed to flip in Yunho. 

"Okay, baby," he whispered to you, tender and adoring like the lyrics to one of his love songs. He pulled your panties down your thighs to your knees and watched you kick them to the floor with an amused, enamoured smile. He kissed the back of your neck, lips still curved into a smile. "Sorry for teasing."

"'S okay," you whispered, even though you could feel yourself throbbing with how badly you needed him. "Just fuck me, please."

His hands lifted your hips from his lap for just long enough for him to take his dick out, then he was pushing you forwards to lean against the counter so that your face was close enough to the mirror that you could have kissed your flustered, horny reflection. 

"I want you to watch too," Yunho said firmly as he pressed against your entrance, easing into you slowly. Your mouth dropped open to let out a moan, forming an 'o' of pleasure. Yunho smiled, thrusting shallowly to test the waters. After the performance he'd put on tonight you weren't going to get a rough fuck, but it seemed that Yunho knew how to make you fall apart just the same. "I want you to watch my pretty girl, watch how she moans for me and takes my dick so well. Watch her beautiful face and how it changes every time I fuck her just like this."

He punctuated the word with a deep, sharp thrust that had your knees buckling, a long string of moans and whimpers filling the room as he began to pound into you properly. You were so full of him that you almost expected his precum to drip from your tongue when a thin line of drool dripped onto your chin. 

When your eyes shifted from your reflection to Yunho's you found him watching you intently, focused as though nothing could tear him away from the sight in front of him. His hands moved to play with your breasts again, pushing them together so that even with your blouse on you looked lewd. His fingers toyed with the soft flesh while his dick hit all of the right spots inside of you, making your knees weak. 

"Look how pretty your chest is, baby," he praised you, trailing off into a groan. "Look how well you take me playing with you like you're a pretty little doll."

You whimpered, reaching down between your legs to touch your sensitive clit with a trembling hand. 

"I'm your doll, Yunho," you moaned out, watching how the words made him grit his teeth. "I'm all yours."

It was something Yunho knew well by now, but it still made him blush and pull you up so that your back was pressed to his chest once again. He bit and sucked at your neck like a man starved, his dancer's hips snapping into you over and over without fail. When you turned your head away from the mirror he captured your lips in a sloppy kiss that made you dizzy, his spit and breath filling your mouth almost as well as his dick filled your cunt. 

"I know, baby," he muttered as he broke the kiss, letting you lean down against the counter once again. He swore softly, grip on your hips becoming tighter as he chased his high. Holding eye contact with you through the mirror he gave you one more command. "Give my gorgeous girl another kiss, sweetheart. She deserves it for being so good for me."

You took one look at your reflection, gradually growing foggy from your moaning and panting breaths, before you leaned in just like Yunho had asked and pressed a kiss to your own lips. The sudden feeling of the cold mirror on your mouth combined with the praise pouring from Yunho's mouth had you cumming around his cock, your weight slumping forward onto the counter as your cunt clenched around Yunho's dick, milking him into you. 

The long groan Yunho let out melted into your moans as he pulled out and came all over the warm skin of your ass, thick ropes of cum sticking to you like glue. You both shuddered, catching your breath as the bubble of being joined together began to dissolve. When you moved to stand again Yunho was right there to hold your waist and help you keep balance, smile on his lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"A hot shower sounds good right now, hm?" he asked, helping you put your panties back on one leg at a time. You nodded, wrapping your arms around him for a tight hug before you made your way up to your hotel room. “Thanks for the show, baby.”

In the changing room the only evidence that remained of either of you was a smudged lipstick stain left on the mirror. 

[redslug]

Helping Neuroslug help me

Admittedly it took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out and start using inpainting, but now that I've had a taste of it my head is spinning with possibilities. And so I'm making this post to show the process and maybe encourage more artists to try their hand at generating stuff. It really can can be an amazing teammate when you know how to apply it. For those who didn't see my first post on this, I've trained an AI on my artworks, because base Stable Diffusion doesn't understand what anthropomorphic insects are. That out of the way, here we go:

I noticed that a primarily character focused LoRA often botches backgrounds (probably because few images of the dataset have them) so I went with generating a background separately and roughly blocking out a character over it in Procreate. Since it was a first experiment I got really generous with proper shading and even textures. Unsurprisingly, SD did it's job quite well without much struggle.

Basically masked out separate parts such as fluff, skirt, watering can, etc. and changed the prompt to focus on that specific object to add detail. There were some bloopers too. She's projecting her inner spider.

Of course it ate the hands. Not inpainting those, it's the one thing I'll render correctly faster than the AI does. Some manual touchups to finish it off and voila:

The detail that would have taken me hours is done in 10-20 minutes of iterating through various generations. And nothing significant got lost in translation from the block out, much recommend. But that was easy mode, my rough sketch could be passed off as finished on one of my lazier days, not hard to complete something like that. Lets' try rough rough.

I got way fewer chuckles out of this than I expected, it took only 4-5 iterations for the bot to offer me something close to the sketch.

>:C It ate the belly. I demand the belly back. Scribble it in...

Much better. Can do that with any bit actually, very nice for iterating a character design.

Opal eyes maybe?

Lol

Okay, no, it's kind of unsettling. Back to red ones. Now, let's give her thigh highs because why not?

It should be fancier. Give me a lace trim.

Now we're talking. Since we've started playing dress-up anyway, why not try a dress too. Please don't render my scribble like a trash bag. I know you want to.

Phew

I crave more details.

Cute. Perhaps I'll clean it up later. ... .. . SHRIMP DRESS

[crvptidgf]

Teacher’s Pet

Mattheo Riddle x Reader (fluff)

➸ summary: after finally being reunited with her childhood friend, Enzo, the reader has to now build a friendship with his two cocky but well-meaning best friends

➸ warnings/notes: college!AU, snippet from a fanfic book i’m writing - it’s not posted yet but my wattpad is @/milksatin

word count: 1.7k

————————

THE DAY AFTER the choosing ceremony was a little anticlimactic.

It was our first day of classes, and everybody had gotten sorted into their designated houses last night. We of course already knew where we would be put - the ceremony was more of an introduction into first year than anything. It was customary to put on the sorting hat - kind of like a rite of passage, or an initiation.

We had done it in secondary school and we had done it again while moving onto our next phase in life. The next phase - which I had no idea what held in store for me.

At the beginning of summer we had chosen our preferred subjects, classes which we would be studying in detail as opposed to the general knowledge that we had learned the years prior.

My first of the day was potions; obviously.

Since the majority - or more like all - of my friends were in Gryffindor, I left the Slytherin common room alone. Walking past them in the Great Hall, I bid them a good morning before finding a seat at my appointed table.

"It's a pity that you can't sit with your friends," came Enzo's voice, his body sliding next to mine on the bench. I shrugged casually before digging into the plates before me.

"It's alright - I survived the last 3 years of school, how different can college be?"

His eyes held a certain sadness in them before he cleared his throat. I was glad to be talking to him again.

"Well you can always sit with me.”

I thanked him as I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth, muffling my gratitude. As much as I hated to admit it, I was really appreciative of him. It felt great to have someone to sit with.

"Oh yeah, such a shame that you can't sit with those gits," said Theo. I almost didn't even notice him and Mattheo arriving. They sat in front of me, ignoring Enzo's glare at Theo's words.

I had no problem dealing with assholes who thought they were better than everyone. After all, Harry and I had our fair share of arguments with Draco Malfoy. He had calmed down immensely, but before the war he was a handful. Theo needed less of an ego. Well, what's one more prideful Slytherin to kick down a notch?

"Leave off, Nott," said Enzo.

I simply ignored him as I dug into my breakfast. That day I made the note that Hogwarts breakfasts were a God send. I was almost completely full after not even half of the plate.

It was nice to talk to other Slytherins. It was nice to not be judged simply by the name of my house - and it was nice to not have to sit alone for once.

Although Theo was a bit judgmental of my friends, he was nice to talk to. It didn't last long, though. He began to complain about the Golden Trio - saying that they were too pretentious and up their own ass.

"Those are my friends you're talking about," I said. I tried to not let him get to me, but with each word that exited his foul mouth, my blood boiled one degree higher.

Theo just rolled his eyes as he continued eating.

Mattheo's gaze met mine over the table.

"What class do you have first?" he asked. I was glad for the change in topic, so I shook my hands out under the table to get rid of my tension. I sighed as I responded.

"Potions. Why?"

"Me too. I'll walk with you," he said as he grabbed his bag off the floor and stood up. We still had a few minutes left of breakfast, but since I was already finished eating, I agreed. And anyway, I didn't want to be around Nott any longer than I had to be.

Leaving the hall, I breathed a sigh of relief, not even realizing that I was holding it in.

"Sorry about him," said Mattheo. "He's kind of a dick sometimes."

I scoffed.

"Yeah that's one way of putting it."

Mattheo stopped walking as he stood to face me. His hands were in the pockets of his blazer, letting his bag hand loosely off his left shoulder.

"He can be like that sometimes, but he's really nice once you get to know him."

I made a noise of disbelief as I crossed my arms over my chest. How good of a friend could a house supremacist be? Did he learn nothing from the years of war that raged on in the wizarding world? Did he not understand that the only way we even won was by working together and getting rid of the notion of blood superiority altogether?

Merlin, had he not heard the story of what happened to Enzo's parents?

"Don't think he'll be happy to know I'm a half-blood, I assume."

Mattheo's eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head down. He huffed as he ran a hand down his face.

"God, he's not a blood supremacist, Lilia. He just has too much pride in himself."

I nodded.

"That much I figured," I muttered as I began to walk again. Mattheo seemed nice, I just didn't want to hear him justify his friend's actions. I didn't care if he was nice. All I cared about was that he was talking down on my friends. People who I considered family.

Mattheo sped up a bit, jogging to catch up to me. His shoulder brushed mine as we trekked along the hallways, looking into classrooms to find the correct one.

"And for the record - I like your friends. Never really spoken to them, but Harry does seem nice," he said, breaking the silence.

"He is," I stated simply before stopping in front of the potions room.

It was down in the dungeons, the dark stone walls letting little heat enter in that particular section of the castle. It didn't help that it was underwater, either. My hands rubbed up and down my arms, my robe providing little warmth against the gusts of subtle wind.

Mattheo leaned against the wall beside the door, studying me.

My arms were still tightened across my chest, and my eyes avoided contact with his. Something about being alone with him felt different. Last night I had no issue looking directly at him, but in the silence of the dungeons, I felt more intimidated.

"I get it. You're protective of your friends, but they're not exactly saints either."

My eyes hesitantly lifted up, meeting his brown irises. What was that supposed to mean?

"How would you know?"

He sighed, looking down at his feet. "Let's just get inside. Class is about to start."

I was about to object, but as I saw more and more students marching across the hallways, I decided he was right. As if on cue, the bell rang to signify the start of lectures. I guess I'd have to pry him for answers at a later time.

I sighed as I sat down at a random desk, only to be surprised when Mattheo bumped against me. He adjusted himself on the stool as he dropped his bag down.

"You don't mind, right?"

Truthfully, I was a bit happy he sat next to me. It would be nice to have a friend as my partner. A lot of the class was full of Slytherins - and as I stated before, I didn't have many Slytherin friends.

"As long as you don't make me fail the class."

His face broke out into a smile as he sucked his teeth. He looked forward to the front of the class.

"I'm amazing at potions."

I felt doubt rise in my chest. I gave him a skeptical 'mhm', telling him that I'll believe it when I see it. He clearly took it as a challenge. The emotion behind his eyes changed as he stared me down, smirking.

My nerves grew as he continued to look at me even when Professor Snape entered the classroom, only breaking the eye contact when he began the roll call.

My heart thrummed against my ribcage. In the small amount of space that we had at our desk, our knees were brushing against each other. I would move away, but every few seconds I'd forget and my knee would bump against his again.

All I got in response was a bump back. We were practically playing footsie under the table, but with our knees.

Snape began to do theory and we opened our books to the first chapter. It was revision of the most common potion ingredients, including the basics - Wolfsbane, African Sea Salt, Bat Wings, and Asphodel. This was what I was good at. Amazing even. What I didn't expect was for Mattheo to be just as good.

"What can act as an antidote for most poisons, with the exception of Basilisk venom," came Snape's monotonous voice.

My hand sprung up in the air, but Mattheo beat me to it.

"Yes, Mr.Riddle?"

"Bezoar."

'Suck up,' I thought. It was slightly hypocritical of me to think that, but my pride got the best of me. Especially when people were just as good at something as I was.

"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin."

I huffed in annoyance as my hand went back down, continuing to take down notes. I felt a nudge next to me only to see a piece of paper slide towards me.

'ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ? ᴍᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ?'

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the page back to him. I muttered under my breath at him.

"As if."

I could hear him chuckle from beside me as he crumpled the parchment up. His quill flickered around as he wrote notes down, a small smile still etched onto his face.

"What is a common ingredient used in a Wiggenweld Potion?"

I had heard the question, but upon seeing Mattheo's hand raise up yet again, my eyes drifted to him. I sent him a nasty look as I waited for Snape to call on him.

However, Snape called my name instead upon seeing me glare at Mattheo. My faze flickered away from him to look at the Professor. Ignoring the smug look on my potion partner's face, I responded.

"Billywing Sting Slime."

"...Correct. But next time, I'd appreciate you paying attention."

Mattheo snickered from beside me and I kicked his leg under the table, shutting him up immediately.

This was going to be a long year.

- - -

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader     Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.     CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!     Author’s note: I asked for requests and then used 0 of them – sorry – this is one of those things that started in a whatsapp chat and started living its own life fairly quickly. Wasn't meant to become a five-parter but, big sigh, here we are... I hope you enjoy this first part!    Wordcount: 3.4K  

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Of course. Of fucking course.  

Something always had to go fucking wrong, didn’t it? Couldn’t just be smooth fucking sailing for once, could it?    

Jesus fucking Christ.  

Joe massaged his temples as he let his breath escape through flared nostrils.   

Typical.  

He’s just flung his suitcase onto the bed, ready to charge what needed charging and to change what needed changing. The heavy bounce of it should’ve told him something was off.  

That wasn’t his. 

It wasn't his suitcase that he'd just flung onto his hotel bed.   

It looked enough like it, but his three-digit code didn't unlock it, and upon closer inspection, this one had a lot of marks on it that suggested it had been used a lot more and for a lot longer.    

Not his suitcase.  

Same brand. Same colour. Same model. Not his.  

He'd taken the wrong suitcase. Like the day hadn't been long enough already.  

The warm breeze had felt glorious when he'd stepped off the plane, the temperature balmy enough to really make him feel the difference when walked down the stairs onto the tarmac. The sun had been out, and he'd felt how it immediately relaxed his shoulders. It was exactly what he needed, why he even booked the trip in the first place, he thought, slipping his sunglasses down from the top of his head onto his nose.  

Sun. Warmth from up above that clung in the air that surrounded him.  

Was nice.

Lovely.

He'd gotten what he'd thought was his suitcase from the conveyer belt no problem, finding it quickly. Then it only took a minute to wait for a taxi that took him to his hotel. He'd booked a room in the kind of place you didn't need to leave at all if you didn't really want to – nice hotel restaurant downstairs, nice hotel rooftop bar upstairs, big pool surrounded by sun loungers outside and a view of the beach just behind it. Not quite a resort, but, kind of a resort, if you asked his mum. 

It was exactly what he'd needed. A few days away from the hustle and bustle of daily-life-sludge Joe felt he'd had a hard time wading through. Just a quick break to get his sun-starved skin some much needed vitamin D. Make the freckles that hid underneath his skin show up. It was the time of year when temperatures dropped fairly quickly once the sun went down, but the days were gorgeous still. The type of hot where you could sit in direct sunlight in the middle of the day without feeling like you were melting but still get tanned all over.  

Joe should've felt lucky, because that was what he'd been announcing to the world a lot lately. "I feel very lucky," over and over until it caught up with him.  

"Quick few days away will sort you out," his mum had told him over the phone, and mother's always knew best, didn't they?

So he'd just gone and booked it. Went, fuck it, this looks nice, I want to go there.

And now he was here.

He had five full days all to himself, travel days not included, in which he’d get to truly switch off a second. Enough time to listen to his favourite podcast for however long he wanted without being interrupted halfway through an episode. Enough time to finally get past page five of this book he’d started reading three times already. Enough time to work through his inbox at a leisurely pace. Have whichever drink whenever.   

Joe was meant to feel all lucky.   

It was just that... he'd just flung a suitcase onto his hotel bed that wasn't his, and... now what? The good bits felt all fucked up, the positive twisted, leaving him with just the negative frustrating shit. 

Trip fucking ruined already, and he'd not even been there two hours. 

All he had on him were his passport, his phone, a pair of wireless headphones that were running low on battery and his bank cards. He'd foregone bringing a backpack as carry-on, checking in his suitcase, and feeling very free as he'd walked through the TSA screening with barely anything on him.   

Now he regretted every single decision he'd made that lead up to this moment.   

Unbeknownst to him, you were just two floors up, in the same hotel, in a room that looked identical, also stood by your hotel bed. Difference was, you'd just opened what you thought was your suitcase, only to be met by a bunch of stuff that wasn't yours.   

You didn't own anything pinstriped. Or, um, Dior.  

You checked the code that you hadn't changed to open it – that wasn't what you'd set it as.   

That wasn't your suitcase.   

“Um, what the fuck?”  

Whoever the suitcase belonged to had shut it but then hadn't run a thumb over the numbered wheels to make sure anyone without the right combination couldn't open it – an idiot, you thought.   

And idiot with... very expensive clothes. Men's clothes.   

For a moment far too long, you just looked at what was in front of you and processed what this meant.

You didn’t have your things.

Your stuff.

No dress to slip into. No bikini to wear underneath.

Shit.

You'd have to phone the airline, let them know you'd taken the wrong suitcase. Yours had probably been brought over to lost and found, the owner of this one probably hoping his would be there too. Except it wasn't. It was a 40-minute taxi ride removed from lost and found, up on the 11th floor of a nice beach hotel. With you.  

Shit.   

You looked down at your own top, the stains from the bottle of coke that had sprayed everywhere upon the first cap-twist still evident.   

Fuck.  

This first evening you'd booked a table downstairs for dinner, and then were planning on having drinks upstairs to really make sure you'd knock yourself out cold until at least 10.30am the next morning.   

You threw an arm up and smelled an armpit.  

Rank.

Yea, no way you were going to do those things in the outfit you currently had on.   

"Hi, I have a question regarding baggage claim? Is there a service agent I can talk to? It appears I have taken the wrong suitcase by accident."  

Joe sighed as he got put on hold for a minute, only to be told later to please return the suitcase to baggage claim. He hoped they'd be able to give him any other information that didn't involve him traveling back there. Also, maybe a little info on whether or not his suitcase had been left behind and was now in lost and found, or if someone else had taken it.   

"Please find the baggage claim customer service desk, and we'll be able to help you locate your luggage from there."   

All right. Fine.   

Was he going to do that tonight? After just getting to the hotel, now hungry and tired and in need of some good food and a good night's sleep?  

No.  

Probably not the nicest thing, since, you know, someone else was likely also trying to track down what he was storing in his hotel room right now, but Joe had a dinner reservation for one he wanted to get to. Had scanned the menu online beforehand and was craving the steak tartare now. It just sucked he was going to have that in the same outfit he'd worn traveling there, as well as the rest of the night and the next morning.   

Deep breaths, Joe. Big gulps of air. Take a step back. Zoom out a little.

In the grand scheme of things... this was just annoying. Not the end of the world.

He'd fetch a spare charger for his phone from the front desk, have his meal, have a nice drink, and do his very best not to think about all the things that frustrated him for the rest of the night.  

But, that was easier said that done.  

Especially when, halfway through dinner, a pretty girl walked in wearing what looked suspiciously similar to one of his shirts.

Nah.   

Couldn't be.  

He was probably just seeing things. Was just looking because she was pretty. Was too tired. Had one drink too many.

Was grumpy about the fact that the only charger the hotel had for him didn't fit the outlets here, and they didn't have a plug adapter for him to make it work.   

Was more grumpy about the fact that you'd sat down in his direct line of sight. You know, since he couldn't just burrow himself into his phone for fear of the battery dying on him.   

Was most grumpy that the shirt looked better on you than it did on him.  

For fuck's sake.  

And he wasn't even sure if he even packed that shirt at all! 

For his own sanity, he convinced himself he didn’t pack it.  

Lots of people had shirts like it. Faded orangey colour. Striped. The one he owned probably wasn't quite as pink as this one. Or maybe it was... but, even so, it could be the exact same one, still didn’t need to be his. 

It was a little more difficult however, when upstairs at the bar, after the first sip of his gin martini, he saw you walk out in a jacket that he knew for a fact he’d packed.  

That was his jacket.

Stop it, Joe thought. You've gone mad.

Just a coincidence.

Big coincidence, though... wasn't it?

“you’ve overworked me, i should get another week” he texted his agent, blaming the fact that he was seeing things on that, and received a “lol no” in return.  

Joe was still annoyed the next morning when he climbed into a taxi, phone about to die any second now.

Had you been out the door about twenty seconds earlier, you'd have run into him.

Somehow, traffic turned the twenty seconds into over ten minutes. Joe was already standing by the baggage claim service desk, your suitcase on the floor next to him, patiently waiting as the lady behind the computer typed away with eyes stuck to a computer screen Joe couldn't see. 

You walked up, eyes on your phone, occasionally looking up for signs that pointed you in the right direction. You didn't even notice Joe, or your suitcase on the floor next to him. 

"At airport now, fingers crossed" you texted a friend, and got a quick, "it's there, it's GOT TO BE there" from her in response. It wasn't until the guy in front of you turned around, gave you a polite smile, and then did a double take for you to see it. 

Your suitcase.

"My suitcase!" 

"My jacket."

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

You were standing in front of the guy whose suitcase you'd gone through the night before. Whose suitcase you did your best to pack so it didn't look like you'd gone through every single thing that was in there. Whose pinstriped jacket you'd thrown on because it was the morning still, a little chilly for... just his T-shirt that you wore underneath. 

You immediately forgot how to function as a normal humanbeing. 

Error 404: cognitive function not found.

"Um, I–I..." you faltered, blood heating your cheeks, and you saw how the brow of stranger in front of you slowly furrowed as his eyes scanned down your body. 

Fuck. 

Now, you see, in your defence... you were left to your own devices, just, all alone in a hotel room, unsupervised, with a suitcase that was full of special, unknown things. Lots of treasures and, expensive designer clothing... how was anyone to expect you to be sensible and not snoop? 

Of course you were going to be snooping.

You snooped.

Were a tried-and-true snooper.

It was just that... you hadn't just snooped, had you? 

Hadn't just let your eyes roam. 

You'd gotten your hands in there almost instantly. 

You'd called a friend, and explained your situation, and had then switched the regular call to Facetime to go through the whole thing together. Toiletry bag and all. Every single item had passed your grip, and you'd tried on more items than you dared admitting to anyone – the boyfriend-fit of every single item had made you consider maybe just... keeping a shirt.

"Fuck me, that looks good on you. Keep it." your friend only egged you on.

"I can't keep it," you said, checking yourself in the mirror before asking your friend to google for prices, wanting to know how much this had cost the owner of the suitcase.

When she told you, you took a moment to let that sink in before you said, "Yea, maybe I should keep it."

That jacket, or perhaps the one pair of jeans. Claim you'd just found the suitcase like that. He'd left it unlocked, anyway.

"Look at this, this... this is clearly someone on a business trip, there's suits, but then, look, he's got two-in-one shampoo and conditioner in his toiletry bag," you held up the bottle close enough to your perched up phone to show it properly. 

"Who takes shampoo on a business trip? Surely you just use whatever they have at the hotel?" your friend made a good point. 

"Especially two-in-fucking-one," you tossed the bottle onto your bed, next to all the other shit you were fishing out. Razor, nail clippers, a moisturizer of which you didn't even recognise the brand - very fancy.

"Men are insane,"

"Even the rich ones, apparently," 

"Especially the rich ones."

It'd been a good half hour of giggles before you'd decided you were just going to wear one of his shirts to dinner. Why not? You could fold it up nicer than the way you'd found it in there. You'd be fine.

He just... he wasn't meant to actually see you in his clothes. You were wearing literal proof of what you were desperately wanting to hide.

How were you going to talk yourself out of this? 

Were you just going to be honest? 

Look at him.

Of course you weren't going to be honest. This man would've made you nervous even if you hadn't shown up in his literal clothes, revealing you'd not just opened the suitcase to see it wasn't yours - you'd gone through it and were now wearing what was his.  

"Oh, excellent!" the lady behind the desk stood up and peered over the desk at the floor, at the two similar suitcases. "This will be a lot easier now," she stepped around with a little scanning device, scanned both labels that you, thank God, both hadn't touched. Imagine if you'd have ripped that off. You'd no idea what that would've meant, but surely it would have made the whole situation a lot more complicated. 

You were contemplating pretending to be crazy. Or stupid. Just really, really, really stupid. 

Shut the fuck up why did he not stop staring at you? Could he look away for just a second, maybe? 

"I didn't mean to– I only opened it this morning, I didn't have anything to we–" you rambled, stumbled through little white lies and stopped when you saw the faintest little hint of amusement on Joe's face.

"Are you going to sue me?" you winced.

"No," his smile grew, but he held out a hand. For the jacket, you presumed. 

"There, all settled." the baggage claim service agent smiled. "This one is yours, and this one is yours." 

"Thank you," Joe smiled at her – she'd done her job. You saw it was just him being polite before his attention turned back to you.

"Um, I won't sue you. But I would like my clothes back..." his hand was still there and you realised that you fully understood the body language, but hadn't actually moved to take it off yet. 

"Yes, of course! Sorry, I was– the plan was that I'd fetch my own suitcase from lost and found and then would change into my own stuff, and–" you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the jacket slide from your shoulders, knowing that you sounded absolutely insane. "You weren't meant to find out." you huffed a laugh, hoping that finding humour in the situation would make him copy it.

"Not exactly a water proof plan," Joe gave you a nod and looked at you a little apprehensively, head tilted down, as you handed over the jacket that he folded over his forearm.

"Well, had you not been here yet, I would've gotten off scot-free," you joked lightly, confidence creeping in a little as you raised your eyebrows at him just before kneeling down next to your suitcase and tipping it onto its side to open it.

"Ah," Joe nodded, all understanding, but his face quickly twisted in exaggerated confusion. "So... that wasn't you in my shirt last night?" 

Your neck cracked with how fast it snapped to look back up at him. Deer in headlights, eyes wide in shock, blush deepening. Had you ever felt sweat prickling in your pits before? 

"I–"

"And red jacket?"

Fucking fuck shit. You were such a fucking idiot.

"Red?" you focussed entirely on the wrong thing, but, what else was there to do in a panic? "No, t'was more of a brownish sort of–"

"Burgundy." Joe cut you off.

You looked at each other for a long moment where it took you a smidge too long to close the mouth you'd left hanging open.

My God.

You'd really worked yourself into a corner here, hadn't you?

"Is that... is that my T-shirt?" 

It got worse fast, though.

You looked down to see for yourself, eyes still huge, and for what? To check if you were still wearing the black T-shirt? You knew you were wearing his T-shirt. It was why you'd opened your suitcase in the first place, to fetch something of your own to change into. To take into a toilet stall so you could give him back what belonged to him, and if you were quick, give it back without pit stains. 

When you looked back up, you felt how the blush was now making your neck and chest break out in hives. There really wasn't a way out of this. Caught red-handed, you had no other choice but to surrender and admit to every single wrong choice you'd made. Not willing to speak the actual confession into existence, you let your arms move on their own accord and just... moved to take the T-shirt off. One of your arms disappeared into the T-shirt, out of the sleeve, and you were about to pull the whole thing over your head when you were stopped.

"No– no, stop, don't–" he laughed. Planted a hand on your shoulder – the one of which the arm was stuck inside the T-shirt now.  

You stopped, listening to his instructions from your kneeled position on the floor. 

Joe wasn't going to let you undress into just your bra in the middle of an airport. This was a weird beginning to his trip but, was it really that bad? He'd gotten his suitcase back. That was what he'd wished for ever since finding out he'd taken the wrong one, and now, it had been returned to him.

He'd gotten what he'd wished for.

So what if a pretty girl borrowed some of his clothes for a second? It probably only meant that some of it smelled nicer now. She looked like she felt bad enough about it, too.

No big deal.

"Are we staying at the same hotel?"

"I... I think so?" you sat unmoved.

"If you could leave that at the front desk, I'll just... it's fine, I'll pick it up there," the frown that graced this man's features earlier seemingly had been sarcastic. Or, he'd just turned friendly. Either way, everything about his face told you not to worry about it.

Well, tough. Fuck him. You were worrying. This was so awkward. 

You very slowly moved your arm back into the sleeve of the T-shirt and then moved to close your suitcase. 

"Okay," your voice had never sounded thicker with hesitation.

"Okay?" Joe laughed.

"Yea," you sighed. "Yea, all right. I'm sorry." you winced as you clicked your suitcase shut and got back up onto your feet.

"It's fine." Joe waved a hand, dismissing the whole thing. You thought that was just to make you feel more comfortable, because you were very clearly going through it. For good reason. Had you been in his shoes, you would've told yourself off for the shit you'd pulled.

"Looks better on you, anyway," 

And like you weren't red in the face enough already, the snort laugh that escaped you turned you purple whilst simultaneously breaking any and all tension.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[michinekot]

What do u like about thistle?

I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.

He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master. Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡

I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.

Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:

First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.

He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.

And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind. And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...

He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)

It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.

He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.

He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.

I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.

Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.

I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.

I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.

But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.

So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever. And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)

[val-of-the-north]

More observations for the trailer I am going insane!!!

I can't claim the original observation of this candle tree detail is mine, but it's from a Japanese Twitter user, here's a screenshot of the post and a link to it as well [x]

The rest of this observation IS mine though, so let's get to it:

With all the talk of cardinal sin, Messmer having a few parallels to Lucifer as pointed out by some friends of mine [x] I have to wonder if he is the cause of a speculated first burning of the Erdtree.

If this is the first time you have heard about this concept, I'll give a short summary. You know how Leyndell is covered in ash by the time we reach it in-game, and how that goes unexplained? We know for a fact that must be the Erdtree's ashes because after we claim the Rune of Death and the Erdtree burns even more, the capital is entombed in it.

We are also told that the Age of Plenty, an age in which the Erdtree gave physical blessings from its sacred sap, swiftly came to a close and the tree had to be changed to simply an object of faith...

So the theory claims that the reason why the Age of Plenty ended so swiftly was due to the Erdtree being set on fire. In theory spaces, the go-to culprit for this speculated action has often been the Gloam-Eyed Queen, with her connections to fire (Blackflame specifically) and Destined Death, but now there's the possibility that this was all Messmer's doing after all. Promotional material and dialogue seems to really denote his affinity for scorching and setting things ablaze.

This probably also means he is the inventor of that scary flame construct that according to Miyazaki as per this interview [x] was an old war machine, no doubt used during this "unsung battle".

Another important part of Messmer's design is the two snakes, which point us back to the Age of Plenty! Godfrey likely ruled during and directly after that time, and the arenas were likely built because of him. It had to be during Godfrey's rule because by the time Radagon became Elden Lord the practices of the colosseums had died down, as told to us by the Ritual Sword and Shield Talismans:

One of the more interesting aspects of the gladiatorial battles that once took place is the snake symbolism on the gladiators' armor.

So the snake was a symbol of a generic "traitor to the Erdtree", and it predated Rykard's blasphemy by an entire age at least... so what if it wasn't generic at all and it represented Messmer himself? He might have been the perpetrator of a betrayal so foul that Marika removed all traces of his existence from her empire's history, but kept the symbol of the snake as a spiteful reminder of him and all other subsequent traitors. After all, she does seem to have power over which one of her children gets remembered or not, and if not her, then the collective of the Golden Order:

Do note that we don't know when she said this. It could have been while she was still at the height of her rule or right before the Shattering. What we do know for a fact is that the soulless demigods inside the Walking Mausoleums have no known history to speak of, which is quite unlike Godwyn, one of the more accomplished members of the family. So yeah, being forgotten by history might be something the Golden Order does to those they deem unfit, so Messmer could be a likely candidate for such treatment... except instead of doing nothing noteworthy he did TOO much lol.

Now I gotta wonder if Marika hated him more or less than her Omen babies. One could argue that locking them down in a sewer close to where she lives was done more as an obligation than any true resentment. She could have sent them to the Shadow Lands if she really wanted them gone and unaccessible, as that place seems filled with Crucible-related things...

I am not saying she was a good mother to them because she didn't kick them to the Shadow Lands, but perhaps she DID have some small affection for them that she really couldn't follow through with.

Of course, maybe she just couldn't banish them anymore after banishing Messmer for whatever reason (maybe she cut-off a connection to that realm?). However, the most likely possibility is that he WAS known like the many soulless demigods and that Mohg and Morgott predate him. It's just that while those two were born undesirable through no fault of their own and were thus only hidden away, he BECAME undesirable which was worse in Marika's eyes so he gets the extra banishment and the removal of all of his history... there are so many possibilities...

[that-sweet-jester]

Just a bunch of bad guys

A little background below ⬇⬇⬇

HA I TRICKED YOU, it's not little, it's a lot!

Alright, this was just supposed to be an attempt at character design of my own after I read bunch of Superhero AUs, but I got carried away and created some lore :')

-WILBUR-

Full Name: Both him and Techno had been adopted by Philza at young age and took up his last name, but wanted to keep something of their own. Hence, both have their nicknames "Soot" and "Blade" (not last names, they don't know what they were).

Alias: I wanted to base all names of the Syndicate on Greek mythology, however I had hard time finding something for Wilbur. I came close to calling him Apollo, but most of the things attributed to this god, aside being the patron of music, just didn't align with what I had in mind for him. Thus, ta da, "very original" Siren. Even tho, it's not really a name name - "lured sailors to their death with a bewitching song" just fits too well.

Powers: Hypnotic voice was an obvious choice, but I wanted all of them to have two main abilities. Thus, after long search I stumbled upon enhanced hearing, and hear me out. Wilbur wears mask over his eyes (he can see through it) but it gives the illusion that one of his senses is gone, and what they say when one sense is taken away? Another one amplifies >:D And I just think that someone whose powers are based on sound would be more sensitive to it. It's not like he has super hearing for miles away, he can just hear well what someone is whispering like few meters away form him :p

OK THAT'S IT. I think that's the most I've ever written on this site. To anyone who've read the whole thing: ily <333 thank for reading my rambling and sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I was too lazy to do a spell check.

-TECHNO-

Full name: Explained before. I'm sorry, but I just can't separate those names from them, there is no Techno without Blade.

Alias: Now I spent a lot of time on this one, bc I just couldn't settle on anything. First I thought about Ares, for being the patron of blood lust and warfare, but just, it didn't work that much for me, I just think there should be more meaning behind the name. Then I searched more, I stumbled on Polemos and some other I can't remember and finally settled on Perses.

PERSES was the Titan god of destruction. He was the father of Hekate, goddess of witchcraft, by the Titanis Asteria ("Starry One"). Perses' name means "the Destroyer" or "the Ravager" from the Greek words persô and perthô. Hesiod inexplicably describes him as "preeminent among all men in wisdom"

And I just think this one's perfect. God of destruction? nice. "The Ravager"? Techno loved mc ravagers and I just can't pass this coincidence. "Preeminent among all men in wisdom"? Man's crazy smart, also as I'll explain more in a moment, Techno knows things he shouldn't really know, and he's almost always ahead of everyone, so, check. Also, my fav goddess aside form Persephone is Hecate so, additional point.

Powers: Enhanced durability is pretty explanatory. Mans could be thrown through a building and only his hair would get messy, maybe a bruise here and there and a lot of complaining, but that's it. You need someone equally powerful to bring him down. NOW, hyper awarness, man oh man, so I NEEDED to include the voices somehow. And I never saw them as something negative in his case. Of course, during combat, they start to demand bloodshed and make him sometimes loose control or result in sensory overload. BUT most of all, thanks to them he knows things - names of people or locations he never seen before, where the punch is coming at him from, answers to weird questions, who stole his food, and why is it always Wilbur, etc etc. So, yeah I thought that writing it down as hyper awarness, might work.

Additional info: His eyes are always red, but his sclera changes color to black when he's out on a mission or fighting, basically when the voices become louder the eyes become more intense in color. As civilian he wears red glasses most of the time to somehow mask the real color.

-PHILZA-

Full Name: You have no idea how much I wanted to write him down as Philza Mine Craft.

Alias: So, I also struggled to find a name for him. I was battling between Thanatos or simply calling him The Angel of Death. But then I was struck and everything became clear. I love fanfics where Phil was a hero before he saw how bad the system is and decides to become the "bad guy" who's actually kinda good, but does bad things sometimes. So, why not use it. In my version, before he became a villain, he was known as Angel, the Hero Committee wasn't as fully developed, so the heros still could stay anonymous, that's why even now they don't know his real identity. After he left he decided to take up new alias and therefore Thanatos was born. Person with black wings associated with Death, also now has a scythe??? Fits perfectly. And that's how people from calling him Angel started calling him The Angel of Death.

Powers: He has the ability to hide his wings and manifest them whenever he wants. I thought about making them just permanent, but I think it's just cooler when suddenly you see a character spring out a pair of big wings out of their back out of nowhere for the shock effect. (no i wasn't just too lazy to draw them, what are you talking about)

Avian telephaty - I also just couldn't not include the Chat. Wherever you see a cloud of crows you know the Angel of Death is nearby. He can communicate with any bird that is a raven, crow or rook. They're his eyes and ears.

Now, I can't leave without giving some credit to the writers that inspired me:

The Oath of Hippocrates by Melatonin_High

tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains by bonesandthebees (bonesandcacti)

Welcome Home Theseus by SoulfirePhoenix

All of them are on Ao3 and are super cool, so give them a read <3

Also, I'm planning on drawing Vigilante Benchtrio but we'll see how much that'll take me xd

[palskippah]

Hi!

Based over the fact that my lil bro when like he just turned five cut a bunch of his hair off and my mom and I were like :000

Also, Mario connected the dots very quickly bc just that morning he told Nettarina they looked alike and then by afternoon she had many inches less of hair🧍but he didn't say anything.

BUT! Of course Nettarina did, and when Peach said "why,,?" like not really expecting an answer, she said "because mamma said I look just like him, but I didn't bc he doesn't have long hair so I cut mine!"

And Peach sent an unfairly killing stare to Mario who was like hehe sori :D

Then Mariella saw her sister and wanted to be just like her, so then they took both girls to a stylist to cut their hair properly and later after that they get ice-cream and go to a park and is very nice but Peach laments that they don't have their pretty long hair anymore, the whole afternoon alskdadf too big of a change maybe bc she wouldn't be able to braid their hair or do nice hairstyles anymore waa (she now can do the little palm tree pigtails tho and she's like aww like when they were babies! :'D)

(When Nettarina's older, she starts liking longer hair again so she returns to how she had it before the cutting from when she was five ajsdka)

BTW Mario and Peach have two more babies and they're both girls and one's called Carolina and the youngest is Giovanna and WA Carolina's design looks too much like Mario therefore too much like the twins aksjdajd but she got Peach's nose and also her big ol' eyes from the moment she was born (in Mario's eye color tho).

And Giovanna got Mario and Luigi's dad's hair (aka also Luigi's hair) so it's dark and more like Peach's rather than Mario's. She also got his nose and his eyes and his eyebrows and basically everything sjdsh

Anyways what I'm trying to get at, is that none of their four daughters look that much like Peach at simple view, but if you look closely, you notice that they got her eyebrows, or her smile or her eye color mixed in with Mario's or her eyelashes or the shape of her face whwhw

ALSO, Peach's height yippie!! They're all taller than Mario🧍and he's like psh the disrespect >:c because he gotta look up to any of their daughters, even Carolina, who is the shortest of them (by nature's laws Giovanna, being the youngest, is the tallest).

Sorry I love when children look much more like a parent than the other, especially if it's the parent that gave birth to them SJDK (it's only fair, since they carried the babies >:v)