#it speaks of how unique each and every one of us is. and i love who i am in all of the beings in the world

[astrxealis]

venat makes me the saddest

[jedi-enthusiast]

So you guys know how the Jedi Order is filled with people from pretty much every world and species? Think about all the unique cultural things the Jedi would practice simply because the Order is basically a giant melting pot.

A Kalikori made out of Akul teeth, passed down through a lineage and carved in multiple different styles to represent the cultures of each of the lineage members.

Different Jedi taking inspiration for their cultural face tattoos from their Togruta master's lekku or their friends' facial tattoos or the designs on a Council member's cultural headdress.

Recipes that are fusion foods made of like five different cultural dishes because a group of friends all got drunk together, got the munchies, and fucked around in the kitchen until something tasted good.

Like, just everyone sharing their cultures with each other and then people adapting their cultures based on their lineages and the shared culture in the Order, shared culture being a form of expressing love and adopting someone into the Order/a lineage.

Obviously there would be things that are off limits and permission would have to be given and the Jedi would probably emphasize learning the culture before ever adapting it, but I just think that after thousands of years their would be a lot of shared culture among the Jedi.

Oh, and languages! With how many languages are probably spoken in the Order, I wouldn't be surprised if the Jedi basically spoke bastardized versions of every language mashed together---it'd probably be an always moving/changing/evolving thing that no one but the Jedi can understand because the Jedi use the Force to bridge any gaps there might be in someone's understanding.

A lot of words and phrases would be taken from Dai Bendu, just because it's my personal headcanon that the Jedi still speak it, but then it would branch out from there into Twi'leki and Togruti and Durese and everything else all mixed together.

I just...I love the idea of the Jedi having a mixed culture that reflects the diversity of the Order.

[yanfeisty]

⠀⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ ♡ kisses headcanons. ׅ ׄ ⠀ ͡꒱

Their way of kissing are so special that it’s more than a simple romantic gesture from first glance, and you should know it as their lover, especially when you are the reason of what makes them special in the first place. This includes Argenti, Blade, Childe and Alhaitham from Honkai Star Rail and Genshin. Content warnings: small mention of death in Blade's part.⠀⠀Have a great time with your husbandos!⠀⠀ ︵ ⠀⠀ ̼

⠀‣ Argenti

How often: Nearly every day, if he doesn’t then he is away. How can he resist the need to embrace you, when his heart beats at a fast pace and he's at a loss for words each time his eyes lay on you, the only way he can communicate is by locking your lips and moving them together. Moreover, since it is his duty as a knight of beauty to make every creature know their true beauty and value, what a better way to show it to you than a kiss, one that makes you feel like the most treasured creature in the cosmos.

Types of kisses: The one that is like a promise. It’s such a typical gesture of him to bow to you with a kneel on the ground and sometimes, a hand on his heart as a sign of his devotion to always be your knight. While his other hand envelopes yours, approaches it to his lips, and delicately brush the back of your hand with his thumb like it is made of glass, before leaving a small peck on it.

The lovey dovey one, where he reaches for your hand but this time he grabs it to pull you close to him, and leaves a trail of kisses from your wrist to your face in a quick pace, you don’t even have time to speak before he reaches your mouth and shush your words. It always catches you off guard because you can’t see his heart skipping a beat whenever he remembers why he loves you so much.

The gentle and most frequent one. His fingers find themselves under your chin, deviating your eyes from whatever you were focusing on to his sparkly light green ones, “May I have this kiss?” He will always ask first the permission like a gentleman, because he would hate to force his love upon you. It’s neither too light nor overly passionate, just enough to make you flustered by the delicacy of his lips.

Kissing in public: He has no problem to do it in public, it became a natural habit of his to kiss you, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop him from it, not even the eyes of other people watching you like they're watching a romantic movie, although you’re being hidden by his voluminous hair. It doesn’t help that he stands out of the crowd with his unique and charming look. However, he’ll understand your discomfort if you tell him. “Forgive me, my love. I do not see the crowd when I’m being mesmerized by your beauty.”

Extra: It’s also the way he holds you, one of his hand holding your face while the other envelopes your waist to get you closer, it feels neither oppressing nor dominating, but comforting like he'll always be with you. He also smells like roses, which adds to the experience, you’ll definitely have his scent on you after being this close to him.

⠀‣ Blade

How often: Rarely, Blade doesn't display much emotion nor does he feel a lot of them, so don't expect to get a lot of affection from him. Though sometimes, when the burden becomes too much to bear and a wave of agitation hits him, he finds some comfort in you. Despair and violence used to be his only solutions to deal with it, but you somehow make him feel a bit better, he is not sure why, but your lips do pacify his illness a little.

Types of kisses: The desperate one, where you can feel all his emotion he puts in it, maybe his lips will taste bitter because of the feeling of revenge or sloppy when he is distressed. It's not perfect but it's no less true. He shouldn't be able to rely on someone this badly and show his moments of weakness, and yet, he is unable remove his lips from yours until he can’t breathe anymore and forgets the pain.

The shut up one. You’re talking too much. This irritates him. He just wants to silence those unnecessary ramblings of yours before he goes crazy. So, he forcefully brings your mouth to his for it to stop moving. “Will you shut up now, or do I need to do it for you?”

Kissing in public: It would be showing his weaker self, you’re the only one allowed to see it. He doesn't like when you try to kiss him, because he would rather not be the subject of teasing from his colleagues, even if he knows it's already the case and he can't stop it. It's so weird for everyone, especially for those who know him to see this cold and scary heart letting someone this close to him, and having his cheeks showing a small hint of embarrassment because of them.

Extra: Kissing his scars, it somehow heals them, not that he feels any physical pain, but when he sees his body full of stitches it reminds him how he should be dead, but you deviate this thought from him to a more pleasant one. His body is like a walking corpse, pale and cold, and yet, by feeling your lips on his brings some... warmth. Feeling life surging through his veins doesn’t feel so bad for once. “Please... Don't stop.”

⠀‣ Childe

How often: Since he's often sent on missions, he makes the most of the time he spends with you. Plenty of kisses you'll receive a kiss as a reminder that his heart will always be with you, no matter the distance.

Types of kisses: The kissing ambush, you’re just so adorable sometimes, he can’t help but squish your face with his palms and peck it without stopping. You’re stucked between his hands who hold you dearly, and you aren’t able to say a word because he’ll cut it off with a kiss. “Haha… Don't look at me like that, love. You're the one being too cute here.”

The eskimo kiss. The freezing cold of Snezhnaya isn't merciful, especially for those who aren't used to it. Childe is always here to warm you up when you need it, and one of his greatest technique is to rub your nose together. The skin contact and his melodious laugh which lets out a hot breath brings heat to your face, and erases completely the cold from your skin.“Perhaps it worked a little too well, your cheeks are burning.”

Kissing in public: He isn't one to be ashamed to show that he loves and cares for his loved ones, and you're no exception. However, when it comes to more 'passionate' kisses compared to the light ones or if you feel shy, he'll always find a good place to hide in when you'll be left alone, and it would be lying to say he doesn't like the risk of getting caught by someone, to the point you can feel that his actions are too bold for the place you’re in.

Extra: When inflicted by minor or deadly injuries, he claims that the only way to heal them is with a kiss, and he won't take any medicine before he gets one. You might be irritated by his stubbornness and childish behavior when he is on the edge of dying, but for him who had plenty of injuries before that his body became indifferent to them, he can’t miss the opportunity to tease you when your face is painted with concern, which honestly melts his heart at the sight of it.

⠀‣ Alhaitham

How often: Alhaitham is more affection than someone might think, just not publicly. It's frequently that you'll share small affectionate moments together, he doesn’t kiss a lot though, he prefers other skin contact like having your body on his or him having a hand on you, it feels relaxing and honestly he can’t think of a better situation than have you close to him.

Types of kisses: The goodnight one. It's regularly that you're reading together, very close to each other. The most comfortable position is when you put your head on his torso, and you both hold each side of the book. And each time, the relaxing atmosphere plus the lullaby made by his heartbeat doesn’t fail to drive you slowly to sleep. When Alhaitham notices it that you fell asleep when you still haven’t turn page, he'll plant a small kiss on the top of your head before stroking it as a way to say goodnight. It’s a habit that he’ll never get tired of.

The one he uses to silence you. Alhaitham doesn't like meaningless noises, he may tolerate your voice more than he does with any person, but not when it says things that are straight up wrong or disturb his peace. Without any warning, he'll pin you against the closest wall. The action makes you stumble over whatever you were saying, it doesn't help that your breathing gets reduced as he approaches. You finally stop trying to when your lips are seal by his before, he leaves you stunned without any words.

The lazy one. Alhaitham likes a comfortable lifestyle, and you can feel it in his kisses. He doesn't do much effort, his hand is loosely holding the back of your head while his lips brush yours gently, and eventually lean into it. “It's not essential work anyway, you can stay here until you regain the energy needed for it”. Always the same excuse for him not move and still keep you in his arms, but it’s always working.

Kissing in public: He doesn't necessarily want to have your relationship become a subject of chatter that is mixed with opinions he didn’t ask for. Not that he cares about what people think, but it can create rumors or even problems that he'll be forced to resolve, and also make him become the center of attention, which isn’t something he desires. He prefers doing it at home because it’s a more comfortable place anyway.

Extra: It's such a weird coincidence that Alhaitham suddenly wants to kiss you each time Kaveh enters the room. Kaveh who's first flustered because he feels like an intruder, and quickly shuts the door. Then he becomes frustrated when he notices that Alhaitham does it purposefully to annoy him, he shouts things like “Oh my God, have some decency and get a room!”, now Alhaitham could riposte by telling him to get his own house first… but honestly he prefers to save his breath when he’s kissing you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog with yand3r3 tags, also if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

Taglist:⠀@avensuersa <3

[forgeofthenine]

So here’s a question. What do you think would be some accidental turn ons for Dammon/Zevlor/Rolan?

I absolutely loved writing this, it's such a fun idea. I have some thoughts of things the tieflings do that are accidental turn ons too, if anyones interested. Thank you for sending in the request!

Slightly NSFW under the cut, no warnings needed, reader is gender neutral as usual

Accidental turn ons for the tiefling bachelors

Dammon

Any off hand jokes along the lines of he 'needs to behave or he'll be punished'

Dammon doesn't even really have a punishment kink or similar but something about the cheeky way you say it does things to him

Something about joking that he's a 'bad boy' just really gets this man going

Play wrestling

Do I even need to explain?

Try to pin him down as you both laugh and grapple with each other, as soon as you sit on his hips to hold him still you'll feel a surprise against your ass

Bonus points if you hold his wrists and lean in to whisper in his ear

If you put a hand on his arm or back while passing him in a tight space

Dammon loves soft touches, and if you use touch to let him know your passing behind him it makes his brain go haywire

Zevlor

When you can speak another language

Especially he doesn't understand what your saying or you have a unique accent

Zevlors eyes go wide as saucers and he has to try and hide his growing hard on as he listens to you

When you take off a sweater and your shirt pulls up to reveal your stomach

He appreciates every part of your body, and getting a peak at your bare skin as you strip off a top layer really gets Zevlor going

Idly running your fingers over him in random patterns

You know how sometimes when you're sitting or cuddling with someone sometimes it's just nice to mindlessly run your fingertips over their skin? And it makes that tingly feeling for them?

Zevlor loves it, he loves the tingles

There's so many everyday things you do that make him feel like a horny teenager again

Rolan

Put your head on his lap and look up at him from there

Not only is he adorably blushy, but he's oddly quiet as he tries not to get hard right then and there

Running your fingers through his hair and braiding it

Rolan has a hair pulling kink, it's just a fact

You getting rid of the knots in his hair with your fingers before braiding it, the little tugs of it against his scalp the whole time

He might just die of horny-

Watching you on your tip toes trying to get a book down from a high shelf

Particularly if you wear shorts or a skirt, regardless of gender

Rolan sees it and the first thought in his mind is to press you against the bookshelf and take you right then and there

He's just enough of an ass to come whisper his wants in your ear, too

[cardansriddle]

Teach Me - ( tom riddle x fem!reader )

part 2

Summary: Feeling awfully inexperienced, you ask Tom to teach you how to kiss.

Warnings: friends to lovers trope. old-fashioned mindset because it's the 1940s. sexual tension. implied smut but no actual smut.

A/N: It's 4 AM and I had to quickly write this idea before I could lose motivation. I love this "teach me how to kiss" trope so much so let me know your thoughts abt this!

buymeacoffee <3

༻♛༺

Tom's low voice carried around you as you lay your head against a tree, eyes shut closed to enjoy the serene atmosphere of the day. You barely paid attention to the meaning behind the words he was reading from his book, instead letting the soothing voice lull you to a relaxed state.

You adored these little moments with him. Your friendship with Tom Riddle was an unexpected one, yet not unpleasant. Whatever had bloomed between you two was unique, and you cherished whatever attention he could give you because you knew it was only you that received these rare moments with him.

"I'm bored." You suddenly interrupted him mid-sentence, huffing and opening your eyes to stare at the thick branches above you.

"What do you want me to do about it?" The wizard asked dryly, causing you to turn your head towards him. The sight of his profile greeted you, and you enviously traced your eyes over the perfect slope of his nose and the sharp edges of his jawline. Truly, it was unfair that he had been blessed with such pretty features.

"Maybe we should put aside the book? We've been reading almost every day now." You suggested, continuing to stare at him while his gaze remained glued to the pages of the book. "Tom."

"Hm?"

"You are not even listening to me!" You hit his arm at his offensive behaviour. The action seemed to snap him out of his trance and he met your gaze at last, eyes dark and holding an expression of bemusement. "This is dull. Let us do something else."

"Do what?"

You shrugged. "Talk?"

He seemed to contemplate his options, knowing if he kept reading you would persistently annoy him until he could no longer focus but if he complied with your request, he would at least receive peace of mind. With a tired sigh, as if he was trying to appease an insolent child, he snapped his book shut and turned to face you fully, causing you to smile in triumph at your small victory.

"Well, talk then." He gestured with his hand for you to speak, but you only glared at him.

"No. I always talk. Perhaps you should tell me about one of your adventures. Or stories. Anything."

He almost whined your name in protest but you hushed him. An idea came to your mind, something that you had been meaning to question him about, and you sat up eagerly. "You could tell me what Xavier and Avery were talking about yesterday? Remember? Before you told them to shut up?"

Tom only stared at you, his lips beginning to quirk up in a half-smirk. "Those are not for your innocent ears. Or any ladies' for that matter."

Instead of discouraging you, his words only caused your curiosity to grow. "Oh come on, Tom! I thought we told and shared everything with each other." You pouted, eyes pleading for him to indulge you in those secrets.

"You must stop." He tried to warn you but you decided to settle your head into the curve between his neck and shoulder, to attempt and soften him enough for him to speak.

"Walburga always talk about stuff like that. We are not as naive as you men think us to be."

He scoffed and averted his eyes down to his closed book. "Walburga does more than talk about it and I would advise you to steer clear from her presence."

"Did Xavier and Walburga lay together?"

He stiffened, and you lifted your head up from his shoulder to look up at him. He seemed lost, not knowing how to direct the topic of conversation elsewhere.

"I wonder what it feels like." You continued voicing your thoughts out loud, missing the way his head turned towards you swiftly, entranced by your genuine and clueless curiosity. "I mean I do not know what exactly transpires between man and woman but I can imagine the—"

His hand grasped yours on your lap, halting you before you could finish your trail of thought. "We should not talk about this topic any further." Although his voice was as gentle as he could allow himself to be when with you, you could detect the finality in his tone.

"But—but Tom! Would you tell me?"

You observed him as he clenched his jaw. "When the time comes, your husband will tell you and show you."

"But I wish for you to tell me. Do you not think my future husband would prefer me to know what I am doing at the very least? What if my terrible inexperience will bother him?"

He was quiet, staring at you with a flurry of emotions in his eyes. Something about his gaze caused your cheeks to redden and you opted to look down at your fiddling hands on your lap.

"Perhaps you could teach me something." You muttered after a long minute, not daring to meet his stare.

Tom's heart began beating unevenly beneath his robes. All of a sudden he felt too warm, too suffocated in his clothes. Tom was not pure by any means. He did not care for honour or propriety. Nor did he care for the foolish yearnings of men and women. He had indulged in those acts before, once or twice just to attempt to satisfy his body's urges. But he never actively sought it out. And he never particularly enjoyed it. But with you in front of him, so close to him that he could feel the scent of your perfume, he was just a regular man. And he had never felt desire the way he did at that moment.

"Stop." He said with a hoarse voice, and he cursed himself lightly before clearing his throat and repeating the word. "This is highly inappropriate."

"Show me just one thing. Please? Please, Tom?"

His pants tightened and his breathing got shallow. If you kept pleading him and uttering his name with such need surely he was bound to break. Surely no one would fault him for sealing his lips and yours—

No. He berated himself.

"Tom?" You moved closer, your knee bumping his thigh—

Before he could resist, his hand slid to grab your jaw. "You are being insufferable. I am holding myself back to protect your honour and yet you insist on me breaking my resolve."

"One time won't hurt anybody. Please?" With your last plea, and with a confidence you were not aware you possessed, you climbed over him to straddle him, sliding down until you were settled in his lap comfortably.

Tom froze underneath you. He could only stare up at you sitting so innocently on his lap as if you were born to be there and attempt to blink away the very ungentlemanly, very filthy thoughts from his brain. But how could he? With you pressed up against him, with only a few layers of clothing separating you, how could he banish those indecent images away?

"Teach me how to kiss." Your small voice filled his head again and how could he deny you anything when you were a pleading and desperate mess for him?

"Just once." He muttered with his last remaining resolve, no longer able to resist the pull that was urging him to close the minute distance between you. He moved to press his lips against yours and before you could respond, he retreated to gauge your reaction, only for you to whine and eagerly reconnect your lips back together. The grip on your hair grew tight, and he fought with himself to maintain control. But it seemed you had other plans as you needily pressed against him, the kiss no more gentle, but intense and messy.

Your body felt as if it was set aflame from the inside, and you would gladly burn alive if it meant you could experience this for the rest of your life.

His hands slid to grab a hold of your waist, and he lifted his hips up to grind the straining material of his pants against you. You gasped into his mouth at the action, and he did not miss the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moved your hips against his, feeling him hard underneath you. He groaned, the low sound travelling straight to your core.

"We should stop." He muttered between kisses, and your hand moved to take a handful of his hair and pull at it, causing him to look up at you with dazed eyes. "Or I will not be able to control myself."

"Don't you dare stop."

He moved his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses along your throat before you felt his teeth bite into your flesh.

"Tom." You murmured his name in pleasure, rolling your hips against him once more to feel that pleasant ache between your thighs once again.

Suddenly, you heard the snap of a twig from somewhere behind you, and you pulled away from Tom in horror to look back over your shoulder. One of the Slytherin boys you did not recognize was standing there, eyes on you with an expression of bewilderment.

He had caught you in a compromising position. This was not appropriate. If he said anything about this situation, you would be ruined. You quickly removed yourself from Tom's lap and stood shakily on your legs.

Hesitantly, you looked at Tom, and he was staring at the boy with cold indifference as if this situation was not severe. Feeling embarrassed and utterly horrified, you did not utter another word before you rushed away from the place, desperate to return to your dormitory.

You worried that the boy would tell everyone of what had occurred, people would gossip about your ruination, but most of all, you felt betrayed that Tom had just sat there and done nothing.

If only you stayed long enough to witness Tom obliviating the boy, perhaps you would not be in such distress.

༻♛༺

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[kathaynesart]

Replica Holiday Special Winners!

Happy Holidays everyone! It's that time of year and you know what that means! Time to announce the winners for the DTIYS Replica Holiday Special Cover!

I received so many wonderful submissions. Far more than I had anticipated! They were all so unique and creative and it was an absolute joy to look at each and every one of them! I really underestimated however how difficult it would be to choose with them all being so unique from each other. In the end, I decided to gauge the top picks on how well their cover captured the "essence" of what this Special is going to be like! Without further ado, here are the winners.

HONORABLE MENTION - @matchstique

Buddy! I love this piece so dang much! It has so much character and perfectly displays the wacky hijinks we can expect as well as the huge amount of stress our poor boys are under during these trying, pregnancy times. The movement and colors work so well and make me excited for what comes next! Seldom do I see pregnant females shown as the badasses they are, but you have gone and turned Cassandra into an absolute icon with this piece! Bless you!

3RD PLACE - @thegunnsara

Sara, the shear amount of craft you put into your art is STAGGERING. Every scuff on Raph's shell and wisp of smoke screams of a quality I can only hope to attain someday. I literally want to be you when I grow up! That said, the concept of this piece is also fantastic. One of the things I'm must excited about for this Special is getting to see Raph and Casey as they were and witnessing the strong bond they share. I love them dearly and this cover captures their strength and tenacity so perfectly. Gods among men.

2ND PLACE - @cupcakeslushie

Slushie, this cover is so damn fun and dynamic that I can't stop looking at it! Your attention to detail and composition are masterful and the fact that you could fit such a bombastic battle into such a limited space speaks to how crazy talented you are! You also do a wonderful job of retaining both the intensity of the apocalypse but also that playful edge that Rise always manages to retain! It's definitely the cover that would catch my eye on a shelf and make me want to turn the page to see what happens next!

1ST PLACE - @abbeyofcyn

Cyn, the moment I saw this cover, I gasped! It's funny because this is both a piece I could have totally seen myself doing had I done the cover, yet crafted in a unique way I could have never come up with on my own! On top of that, this slick composition scratches my little designer brain juuust right. The use of the hands motif is such a great element because to me, it encapsulates the conflicting themes of family/parenthood with the drama of what it means to be human. On top of that, having each character as one of the digits both connected to and encircling Casey is such a wonderful touch that really drives the symbolism home. Somehow, you managed to peer into the future and perfectly capture how the finale of this special is going to feel. Thank you so much Cyn for such a wonderful piece!

~~~~~~~~~

Now that I think about it, looking back on these winners as a set, all four them actually do an amazing job as individual covers for each of the four "acts" that will make up this special. That was not at all my intention, but it kind of worked out perfectly for that. Gets me all emotional!

I also definitely want to put a spotlight on the other amazing submissions, many of which made it SO close to the top slots! I was going to post these pieces individually but I was worried people wouldn't then go to their blogs to view the covers, so instead have a compilation and links to the full versions! Please check out everyones amazing covers and give them some love. They all worked really hard and it means so much to me. Thank you everyone!

@dreamundraws - LINK @honeylief - LINK @gemini-forest - LINK @memorydarkness - LINK @skullythefriendlyskullface - LINK @v-albion - LINK @its-wabby-stuff - LINK @yris-latteyi - LINK @reagi-df - LINK @chaoscontrol50 - LINK / LINK @murasakibonnet - LINK @hitwiththetmnt - LINK @xandriagreat - LINK @karonkar - LINK @sunydays - LINK (sorry my dear, yours did not appear on my hashtag reference at first! D: But still love it!) @quailaz - LINK @delicatechildwitch - LINK

Thank you again all of you! You all did such an amazing job!

[babydollmarauders]

CANDY CANE KISSES — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Trevor has a unique use for all the candy canes y/n buys

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, nipple play, food play, p in v (unprotected), i think that’s all? (3.2k words)

notes: welcome to day 2 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this was my first time writing smut for trevor and i won’t lie; it was hard!

“this is getting out of hand.”

my eyes fly up to the kitchen entrance, Trevor’s tall frame looming in the doorway. his golden brown hair is tousled as though he’s just woken up, yet i know he’s been awake for hours.

“i didn’t think you were home yet.” i murmur, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and my fiancé chuckles as he steps fully into the kitchen.

“i’ve been home for an hour, i was about to call and ask where you were-” his eyes flicker to the shopping bag that rests on the counter before he looks back at me with a raised brow. “but i guess now i know.”

i externally cringe, my mind racing as i try and come up with an excuse.

“i- okay- hear me out!” my hand floats in the air in front of my chest, in attempt to keep him from chastising me.

“oh, i’d love to hear this excuse.” Trevor smirks, sidling over to lean back against the counter. his hands grip the countertop behind him and for a moment my eyes linger there, tracing the veins that lead up to his tattooed arm, until i regain consciousness and remember what i was doing.

“they were buy one get one free! and there’s so many different flavors!”

Trevor’s head tips back, chin towards the ceiling as he lets out a groan.

“baby, you have ten boxes of candy canes in our cupboards!” he states, hand flying up as though to dramatically display our kitchen cupboards.

“twelve.” i mumble, my voice low as i stare at the ground.

“twelve?!” he steps forward, arms winding around my waist as he blocks my view of our tile floor. “look at me, please.”

his soft tone draws my head up, looking into his blue eyes as i exaggerate a pout.

“no more candy canes.” he emphasizes each word, “please!”

i nod solemnly before resting my chin on his chest, giving him the best puppy dog eyes i can muster.

“how many boxes did you buy today?” Trevor questions, bowing his head down to drop his forehead to mine.

“four.” i whisper, the lower half of my face rising to chase his lips. my nose accidentally brushes against his and he repeats the action with intent.

“that’s too many, babe.” he urges, “no more.”

my lips part but i get no word out before he reads my mind, answering my question.

“not even after christmas when they’re discounted.”

i huff in exaggerated disappointment, stepping away from my fiancé to pull the boxes of hard candy from the grocery bag on the granite countertop.

i’m mostly silent as i do so, except for the hyperbolic sigh that passes my lips, my sight flickering to Trevor every few seconds. he bites back a grin, hopping up to sit on the counter across from me before he speaks.

“alright,” he drags out, clicking his tongue against his teeth before he adds- “what flavors did ya get?”

i perk up, the corners of my lips quirking up.

“i got warhead, jolly rancher, sour patch kid, and mint chocolate!” i sing out, holding up each one as i tell him.

“they sound delicious, babe.”

i internally cheer at his approval as i open the candy cupboard, stuffing the four boxes anywhere i can fit them. i take a mental note of the few missing candy canes from a box of original peppermint flavor, taking pride in knowing Trevor has at least indulged in a couple of my holiday obsession.

“can we watch a movie?” i ask, pushing the cupboard closed while i spin around to face my fiancé.

“is it a christmas movie?”

“yes…”

“is it a hallmark movie?” he inquires cautiously, eyes narrowed towards me.

“it doesn’t have to be.” i shrug, shoving the plastic grocery bag under the sink with the others.

“then yes.”

***

Trevor’s t-shirt hangs around my body, the hem tickling my upper thigh, and fuzzy socks adorn my feet.

we ate dinner and watched two more movies before calling it a night, and now i stand at our bathroom counter washing my face and waiting for my fiancé to come upstairs.

i can hear his footsteps entering on the tile floor of our bathroom as i cup my hands under the faucet, filling them with water and washing the cleanser from my face.

i’m drying my face when his arms encircle my waist, his chin coming down to rest on my shoulder.

“hi, beautiful.” his voice is gruff and i can sense a hint of lust that makes me chuckle.

“hi, baby.” i set the towel back down on the counter, opening my eyes to our reflections staring back at me.

meeting his eyes in the mirror, my hands come down to rub soothingly along his arms. his grip relaxes, loosening around me for a moment before spinning me in his arms.

the small of my back hits against the counter, his hands smacking onto it on either side of me, caging me in.

“whatcha doing?” i giggle. my own hands find his chest, smoothing up to lock around the back of his neck.

“looking at my gorgeous future wife.” his response makes me hum, his face lowering towards mine before he speaks again, this time lower, “thinking about how much i wanna fuck her right here in front of this mirror. how sexy she would look; watching as i make her come on my cock.”

his words ignite a pulse between my legs, my breathing picking up just slightly.

“oh yeah?” i bite my lip, angling my hips to press against his.

“mhm.” he hums, bending down just a bit more so his lips brush against mine, and my heart skips a beat in excitement. “but, that’ll have to happen another time.”

my mood deflates as he steps away, backing away towards the doorway to our bedroom.

“oh.” my shoulders sag, my lips flattening into a straight line, and i watch him stop at the doorway.

“well, c’mon.” he urges, crooking his finger at me. “i have plans for you.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk and i bite back a giddy smile as i follow him into our bedroom. his hands reach out to pull at my hips, his fingers digging into my skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he doesn’t stop until i’m flush against him.

“i had an idea-”

“oh that’s never good.” he rolls his eyes at my interruption, but a smile still tugs at his lips.

“shh, i think you’ll like it.”

his lips meet mine, our noses bumping in the movement, and my lips instinctively part, making way for his tongue to dart into my mouth and tangle with my own.

one hand sliding up to curl around and rest at the base of my neck, he groans when mine give a light tug to his locks. his hips jerk against mine, coaxing a hushed moan from deep within my throat and into his mouth.

he pulls away, looking into my eyes, his own darkened with lust, before he turns and walks away, leaving me breathless and needy.

“what-” i’m cut off with a hurried shush, my lips almost unconsciously falling shut.

“naked and on the bed.” his broken sentence echoes through my mind once, twice, three times before i register his command. making quick work as he walks out of the bedroom.

my fuzzy socks are easily slipped off my feet, panties dragged down my thighs, before finally, i pull the oversized t-shirt over my head, letting the various fabrics mingle together in a pile on the floor.

my movements are clumsy and hastened as i clamber onto the bed, sitting pretty on my knees atop the mattress.

Trevor returns with a cup in his hands, piquing my interest, but when i begin to rise in order to see over the top of the cup, i’m shut down by a single lifted eyebrow.

i heave out a sigh, falling back down to the mattress with a dejected pout.

“thought of a way to put your new fixation to use.” he hums, setting the cup on the nightstand, and it’s then that i spot what’s inside.

the cup is filled with ice, and nestled just inside, buried within the ice, is a single unwrapped peppermint candy cane.

“i’m confused.” i voice, brows furrowed.

“just sit down and close your eyes.”

i do as he says, shifting so my legs hang off the edge of the mattress, my ass now sitting on the blanket. closing my eyes, i lean back on my hands, full trust in the man that i’ll be vowing forever to in just a few short months.

time ticks idly by with nothing happening, and i’m almost beginning to wonder if Trevor has left me alone when i finally feel his hot breath hovering over my nipple.

shivers erupt through my body, goosebumps littering my flesh in their wake, and my head falls back as his lips close around the stiffened bud. his tongue swirls around it, eliciting a choked sound from my lips, and i can feel him smirk against my breast.

he pulls back, sucking my nipple with him between his lips before letting it go with a pop, and my hips involuntarily jerk on the bed at his retreat, a whimper echoing in the silence.

i’m rewarded with a gentle shush, simultaneously combined with an icy cold substance being dragged around my nipple. my back arches, breasts pushed forward as i gasp.

my eyes fly open, darting down to find the source of the chill and discovering my fiancé on his knees, the previously ice-bound candy cane in his grasp, leaving a cold sticky trail along my nipple.

“T-Trevor.” i stutter out. his eyes flick up to mine, a smirk resting on his lips as he pulls the candy cane away, replacing it with his open mouth.

i curse, my arms shaking behind me as my eyes roll back. his tongue explores every detail of the hard peak in his mouth, suckling as his free hand finds my other breast, roughly pinching the nipple, before trailing the cold candy cane around that one.

my hips grind against mattress with every flick of his tongue, and when he switches his heated mouth to the other breast, he moans against it, the vibrations against my nipple causing a full body jerk.

“Trevor, please.” i plead. for what? i’m unsure, but he seems to know; he pulls back, rolling my nipple between his lips before letting it go.

his hand comes to rest on my sternum, slowly pushing me until my back lays against the soft bedding. he swirls the candy around my breasts, stickiness coating my skin, before i can hear the clink of the candy cane being shoved back into the ice.

he rises, hovering over my body before dipping down, sucking at the sticky candy trails of his own doing.

my hips buck up against his, urging him to hold them against the mattress as he continues sucking across my chest. his lips drag along the sticky residue, his tongue darting out to lick across my nipple.

my breath catches in my throat as i can feel the early signs of my orgasm building in my stomach, but i’m left gasping for air as it fades away, Trevor’s mouth parting from my heated skin in order for him to pull the candy cane back from the ice cup.

my abdomen clenches as the candy cane makes contact, being dragged down down my stomach from my sternum. Trevor hovers above me with a mischievous smirk, taking pride in the way my body writhes underneath him.

when he finally puts the frozen candy away, his tongue drags down my body, his eyes locked into mine, glaring up at me with heated fervor.

as my body tenses under his tongue, a whimper draws from my slackened jaw, my fingers tangling into his hair and giving a harsh tug.

he groans against me, vibrations carrying over my tight muscles and sending chills down my spine, but his movement doesn’t falter; instead, he trails down even further, pressing short kisses to my hip bones and along my waistline.

“Trev-” my voice shakes, coming out in breathy quivers as he dips lower, his hot breath hitting against my dripping core.

“what do you want, baby?” his gentle pet name is an extreme contrast to the harsh tone of his voice.

“you,” i grapple with his shirt, tugging him up until his face is above mine, his nose drags up my jawline, my eyes fluttering closed, “god- i need you.”

“you’ve got me, baby.” i can practically hear his smile, the mocking lilt in his tone.

“inside me,” i clarify, my head falling back to dig deeper into the soft bedding as his soft lips attach to my neck. “i need you inside me.”

he pulls away, my eyes flying open at the sudden departure, “oh, you need my cock.”

his hands grip my hips, pulling me forward as he grinds against my core, a sharp inward gasp falling from my lips.

“you want this cock buried so deep inside that pretty pussy, don’t you?” Trevor hums, a mocking smirk resting on his lips when i whine out an agreement. “yeah, you want it so bad that you’re fucking dripping. so wet for me.”

“yes, yes,” i pant out, hips bucking up in search of his hardened bulge, “all for you.”

he snickers as he steps back, my lower body falling back against the mattress and a long complaining whine leaving me. i watch in ernest as his hands drop to the button of his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers, putting his muscular thighs on full display. his erection springs free, nearly slapping against his clothed abdomen, and my thighs press together at the sight of his reddened tip, glistening with precum.

he grins at my reaction, his eyes zeroing in on my clenched thighs as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“open those thighs for me, pretty girl.” his hands smooth up my legs, prying them apart until they’re wide open, my cunt on display for his viewing.

“look at that pretty pussy,” my body jolts as his fingers do a quick swipe through my soaked folds, a broken moan pouring through my lips.

“please,” i mewl, “i need you you to fuck me.”

his hands wander my body, sliding up to cup my breasts as he stands between my open thighs.

“yeah?” he cocks his head, wrapping a hand around the base of his length. he drags it slowly through my folds, applying added pressure when he reaches my clit.

my back arches, my chest heaving as he slides his dick back down to my entrance.

“yes! please!” my cries bounce off the walls as he slides in, each inch slowly being swallowed by my walls.

he groans, head tipping back as he bottoms out inside of me. he stills, allowing me a moment to adjust, before pulling completely out and thrusting back in.

the position provides the perfect angle, the tip of his cock hitting against my g-spot with every thrust. my body wriggles underneath him, his hands making a home on my hips, gripping tightly enough that i’m sure bruises will form overnight.

“Trevor.” i breathe out, my hands coming up to lock around the back of his neck. i pull him down, lips connecting in a passionate exchange, and when he pulls away, i line kisses up his jaw.

each kiss is jilted by a sensual moan; finally reaching the shell of his ear, he thrusts in particularly hard, a high pitched gasp erupting from my lips that ghost his ear, and i can feel his cheek lift against mine in a cocky grin.

“you wanna come, don’t you, baby?” he speaks through strained vocal chords, his thrusts gaining momentum and his hips slapping against mine harshly.

“mhm.” i nod against him, my agreement hummed against his skin.

“yeah, i know you do.” he pulls his face away in order to stand up taller, pulling my hips off the mattress to provide a deeper angle. “dirty little slut wants to make a mess on my cock.”

my eyes roll back in my head, my hands gripping the sheets as he his cock slams against the soft spongey spot that makes my legs shake.

i can feel my orgasm building up once more, my abdomen tightening. his hand slides down to smack against my ass, the resounding sound enough to make him moan, before sliding around to press his thumb to my clit.

one hand flies up to grip his forearm shakily, my hips jerking to meet his, and the squelch of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt throws me deeper into the throes of my impending climax.

my head is fuzzy, tears pooling in my eyes, and my body aching with need for release. broken sobs begin to shake my body, his thumb rubbing deep circles against my swollen bud.

“so close,” i cry, “please don’t stop! please!”

“not gonna stop, baby.” he whispers, “you’ve been such a good girl. wish you could see yourself, all pretty and fucked out for me.”

my walls tighten around him, sweat beading at my hairline as i get closer and closer to release.

“cum for me, baby.” he demands. his cock twitches inside of me, thrusts growing sloppy with each passing second.

with one more circle of my puffy clit, my breath hitches, my body stiffening but my legs shaking as my toes curl.

he fucks into me, riding me through my orgasm until i begin to breathe heavy pants, my hips squirming in his touch.

his hips stutter, his movements growing desperate until he falters, stilling between my legs as his cum spurts out in ropes, coating my walls, “shit, fuck.”

he stays buried inside of me, standing in silence as we each catch up on forgotten breaths.

“i’m sticky.” i sigh, causing his eyes to open in order to look at the glistening candy cane residue on my upper body.

“would ya look at that,” he slides out of me, chuckling while bending down to scoop his arms under my back. he lifts me with an ease that i couldn’t imagine myself having after the activity we just partook in.

my breasts stick to his chest as he walks me to the bathroom lazily. grinning, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub, my skin peeling away from his with a satisfying sound.

“how does a bath sound?”

“sounds like a lot of extra work after i already washed my face, you asshole.” i joke, kicking a foot at his bare thigh.

he let’s out a wheezy laugh as he turns on the hot bath water before turning back to me, his hands pushing sweaty locks of hair out of my face before gently cupping my cheeks.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words cause a rush of blood towards my cheeks, my hands coming up to rest on his forearms.

“shhh bath first. and then tell me how pretty i am,” he laughs once more, shaking his head.

“have i ever told you how conceited you are?” he hums, crinkling his nose as he lowers to press a kiss to my forehead.

“you love it.” i shrug, puckering my lips for a real kiss.

he squats lower, nose nudging against mine, “yeah, i do.”

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things - 2 ✿

A/N: Wow, the first post went far better than I ever expected, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing ᕕ(✿ᐛ )ᕗ It was a lot of fun though, so I'm back for round 2!

Summary: More little relationship things with other characters that are in both the anime/manga, and the live action~

Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk

Content: SFW, G/N reader, fluff with added fluff on top ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/ Corazon, Doflamingo)

Buggy

✿ Naturally there is never a dull moment with a man as flashy and bombastic as Buggy, but that doesn't mean there are no calm moments. The start of your day is relatively mellow compared to the rest of it. Bugs will cling to you for as long as he can get away with before you both have to get up. During your morning routine you are practically on top of each other, but it is so natural and well coordinated, that you never collide or get in each others way. All the while, he'll be cracking jokes, and putting his hands on your "assets," followed by a cheeky wink, and infectious giggles. He loves when you match his shenanigans, and will overact his reactions, as if he wasn't just doing the exact same thing to you; "Well, I never-" - "You literally just grabbed my-" - "Never," to which you'll laugh and gently slap his arm while he sticks his tongue out at you.

✿ He's a materialistic guy, so he gives you lots of gifts, from the extravagant to the sentimental. It's the easiest way for him to show you how much you mean to him. Giving him gifts in return makes him melt; he isn't just buying your love, you are speaking his love language! As a pirate it's always been him taking what he wants, so to be freely given those things speaks volumes. Even more valuable than the things he wants are the things you have made for him. To know you have put time, energy, and love into making something special and unique means so much to him! He will cry because he is so moved, just hold him and stroke his hair while he has his moment.

✿ To be with Buggy means you have willingly lowered every single one of your barriers; you are an open book, completely honest about what you think and how you feel. He is insecure, so he needs to see that you trust him implicitly in order to return that trust. As a part of this openness, your personal bubble no longer exists, you have a couple bubble now. That doesn't mean you can't have space though! On the contrary, the mutual trust you've cultivated means you can say, "Hey, I just need some time to myself," and he knows that you aren't angry, or upset with him, because you would have told him as much. When you come back he welcomes you with a cheesy pickup line or wise crack as he pulls you right back into that shared bubble. It took a lot of faith at the start, which wasn't easy for him, and it takes consistent hard work to maintain this level of trust and honesty, and it is so worth it.

Shanks

✿ This man cannot keep his hand to himself! When you're walking together he'll have his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your shoulder. More often than not he is holding your hand, fingers laced together, with him brushing your thumb with the rough, calloused skin of his own. In his mind, the closer you are to him, the safer you are. He's one of the strongest men in all the seas, so being in the same space means no one can touch you, just as they can't touch him, but you'd never know it. To you, he's just like a big puppy, needing to be in your presence, smothering you in affection. He likes to lean his head on top of yours, similar to how a dog will lean their head on your lap, all while wrapping his arm around your waist so you can't wander off. He can be a little possessive, honestly, but he means well.

✿ He will listen to you talk his ear off for hours on end about literally anything. From philosophical musings, to colour theory, to the many uses of vinegar - it doesn't matter the subject, he just loves to hear your voice, and to see how passionate you are. Shanks won't just smile and nod, giving the odd confirming "uh huh," while not really listening either; he gets really invested! Your passion is contagious, and you make even the most mundane things interesting. It's also good to know what interests you, as it makes gift ideas easier. Whenever he sees something related to a topic you've talked to him about he will get it for you. The main thing with all of this is the quality time he gets to spend with you; outside of drinking and merriment, it's one of his favourite ways to relax.

✿ Shanks loves playing little pranks on you. He never goes too far though, as it's important that you are laughing alongside him and the crew. It makes him so happy when you start pulling your own pranks on him. It is very hard to surprise him, but easy to confuse him. You know those pranks where people hide numerous things everywhere? Lets just say he is still finding little gnomes around the Red Force. The rest of the crew is in on it, pretending not to see them, and will deny any knowledge of them, and the longer it goes on, the funnier he finds it when he spots another - you hid them in the such obscure places! He's kept every single one of them, and they have a designated chest, but he'll keep his favourites on his desk.

Mihawk

✿ Everything about Mihawk is subtle, and purposeful, and that extends to relationships. To outside observers he appears cold and distant, like he is barely tolerating your presence at his side, but you are so familiar with his subtleties that you can see just how much he adores you. Each ghost of a touch and fraction of a smile are a declaration of love that only you can understand. He is much more open with his affections when you are alone, where you are safest - not to say you are unsafe out with him, nothing could be further from the truth, he just won't do anything that puts a potential target on your back, exposing you as his achilles heel.

✿ He is a classic romantic! Mihawk is courting you, not dating you. At the start of the courtship he will wine and dine you, lead you with an arm behind you that never makes contact, and the only time he will touch you is to leave a faint kiss on your hand after escorting you home. There will also be large periods of time between meetings where he will send many unsigned love letters until he can return to you. You know exactly who they are from, Mihawk just wants to avoid you being linked to him, especially when he isn't there to protect you.

✿ Once you are fully committed to one another, he moves you to his home where you are safe, and when he is there, he is so domestic that you often forget you are with a (former) warlord. You will tend to the garden together, harvest what you need, and cook together, though he'd prefer to do all the cooking for you. In all honesty, as long as you are there to keep him company, he'd be happy to do everything for you, but he won't fight it if you insist on doing things for him, or ideally together instead; "We'll get things done quicker together, and then we can relax with a bottle of wine and a good book." - "Very well." There is nothing he loves more than sitting with you on the settee with a comfy blanket after a long day of training and daily chores.

[khristie16]

All flavours

Summary: Each man possesses unique qualities that draw you in, making your journey both exhilarating and challenging

Warnings: smut, 18+, foursome, p in v, p in a, oral m receiving, dom!guys, submissive!reader, slight degradation, consensual

author’s note: one of my work redone

You appeared in a dire situation. You are between three men. Between three men you really liked. And every one of them was completely different.

Everyone brought something different to the table. It was exciting what a blossom of flavours you have experienced.

It all started at the paddock. You were lucky enough to be able to auction off the entry fee to the paddock for 5,000 euros. You have loved the formula since you were a child and wanted to fulfill your dream of standing so close to everything that you have only observed through the screen until now.

You were a Ferrari fan, but over time, Max won your heart too. You got used to him and started to like him as much.

The whole experience of that day was really normal, but then you appeared in the room. Locked. With these three.

You stood there, trapped in a trance, your senses dulled, your surroundings fading into insignificance compared to the overwhelming emotions coursing through your veins.

You remained, paralyzed by the intensity of your own emotions, unable to move or speak.

The trio stood shoulder to shoulder. Max, with his inscrutable expression, his stoic demeanor hinted at a storm brewing beneath the surface, leaving you with a sinking feeling that you had indeed messed up, and the consequences were about to hit you like a tidal wave.

Charles was smiling at you sweetly which calmed you down.

But Carlos, — you could feel the warmth that radiated from his body and you were incredibly attracted to him.

You swallowed.

"So, how do we do this?" Max's voice cut through the tension, prompting an exchange of glances between the boys.

As they deliberated, uncertainty gnawed at your insides, causing your hands to fidget nervously. You felt the urge to break the silence. But before you could speak, hesitation held your words captive until you moved.

"You know, I—"

“Pst pst pst cariño” Carlos pointed at you.

You stood in place, your mouth agape in stunned silence. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Every muscle tensed, yet you remained immobilized, a silent observer trapped in the grip of disbelief.

"Hm, but a nice mouth that talks." Carlos winked at you.

The boys began to pace around you, their movements calculated and deliberate. What were they planning? The air grew thick with apprehension, suffocating you as the realization dawned that you. But with each passing moment, the circle tightened, trapping you in.

"Guys, please—" you began, your voice trembling, but Carlos cut you off with a commanding tone.

"Cariño!" his voice boomed, drowning out your plea.

Charles shot Carlos a cautionary glance, silently urging him to ease up. Then, with a gentler demeanor, Charles turned his attention to you.

"What's wrong, cherie?" his tone softer and more understanding.

You shifted your gaze from Max to Carlos and back again, uncertainty flickering in your eyes before settling on Charles.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion.

Max, already brimming with impatience took matters into his own hands.

"Come on, little one. We noticed you peeking at us," Max remarked, "Making eyes on us. And we like you too, so why not do something about it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

"Only if you want to, of course," Charles said kindly, his words offering a glimmer of reassurance amidst the tension.

You simply stared at him, your gaze locked onto his. Suddenly, Carlos leaned into your back. The heat emanated from him even more and he absolutely burned your skin with his touch. He lowered his head to whisper into your ear.

"Don't you want it, cariño?" he stroked your bare arm with his right hand.

A chill ran down your spine, but slowly, almost instinctively, you leaned your head against his chest. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, offering a brief moment for you to breathe. Not for long, you gasped as Carlos grabbed your cunt.

"Darling, do you want it?" Charles asked, the words tumbling out in a rush as if he couldn't contain them any longer.

Confusion swirled in your mind, your senses feeling like they were submerged in hot water, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You found yourself at a loss for words.

"Y/N, look me in the eyes. You are safe with me," Charles urged gently, his voice a comforting anchor.

Taking a deep breath, you finally met Charles's gaze, finding a genuine tenderness reflected in his eyes. With a silent nod, you conveyed your consent.

"Words, cariño," Carlos interjected, his touch soothing as he stroked your arms.

"Yes, I want it," you whispered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

But before you could dwell on the feeling for too long, Max pounced on you, shattering the fragile moment of vulnerability with his sudden action.

His soft lips pressed against you, and with each kiss, he peeled away some layers. He took every breath of air from your lungs like the wind from sails. As he held you with his left hand, his strong grip around your neck left you helpless.

You placed your hands on his chest to create space, hoping to at least retain before he draines the breathing life out of you.

With each glance, the red of your skin deepened. Carlos chuckled, amused. Max let you go and you were able to turn to Carlos. Panting, you stared into his eyes.

"Strip." Max said.

The words cut through the tender atmosphere and you frantically started undressing, feeling ashamed and nervous for what came next.

Approval nods from Max gave you confidence in your beauty and Charles's gentle caressing of one cheek gave you a moment of comfort, romantic gestures that made you close your eyes.

As you opened them again, your eyes almost burst out of you head as you stared. Both of them were absolutely gorgeous, and just the thought of them being able for you to take advantage of their bodies made you salivate.

"Don't drool,'' when Charles laughed, you became even more overwhelmed to see them in full naked glory.

At that moment you lowered your eyes and looked at your palms. You noticed that Charles is still dressed. And you decided to act. You looked into his eyes and started undressing him. Charles grinned at you like he was proud of your reaction.

You were just on your knees when you had his erect cock in front of you.

Taking it carefully in your hands, your gaze was focused on him. Whether you could touch him or not, it was unclear; you wanted to, but at the same time, you felt like you shouldn’t. The tension between the two of you was heavy; there was a desire to touch, but also a fear of doing something you weren't supposed to.

He stroked your hair in return as a green light for you. Your fears and doubts dissolved away under the heat of the moment. The only thing that mattered now was the desire to touch, to suck him as best you could. The excitement of the moment made you lose yourself in the sensation. Only after a while did you realize that the boys were also around you, their presence an additional stimulation to the already palpable tension.

You left your mouth wrapped around Charles and reached out for both of them with each hand. You started riding up and down, taking your pace slow and taking it very sensually. The sounds of muffled and suppressed noises as they moan filled the air like a lullaby.

"I can't take it anymore," Max hissed "I'm taking her ass."

Hearing those words made you excited.

"I'm going to lie down and you're going to sit on me, okay cherie?" Charles told you.

Following Charles's commands, you strap his lap while he looked at you from below. Listening to his words without hesitating, you were already fully immersed in the moment and willing to do whatever pleases him without further ado.

By this time you were getting lost in those green eyes, Max stuck his fingers in you.

You gasped as he whispered in your ear and peck your cheek, "I'll borrow some," his warm breath brushing your skin made you feel dizzy and your heart beating faster.

You felt overwhelmed with emotions. The intensity of the moment made you choke back tears, and as Max started kissing and biting your neck, the sensation overwhelmed you more that you reached your hands into his hair, tugging lightly. Meanwhile, Charles's grip on your hips kept you steady, not letting you move too much.

"If she’s acting like this now, I don't know how she will make it to the end" Carlos said.

Hearing Carlos's words disturbed you, and the look of fear on your face reflected that. Suddenly, it was as if the whole world came to pause. Max and Charles waited patiently, both having a neutral facial expression.

Carlos walked over to you as he stroked your hair, the smile on his face made him seem more friendly and comforting.

With that, he asked, "Will you be a good girl right?" a question that made you hesitate and wonder what that really meant.

You nodded to Carlos's question, but with him kissing your forehead, you felt some sense of reassurance and comfort. You didn't quite know what he meant by 'till the end', but you trusted him and his gestures.

Charles focused on you, slowly directing you to sit on top of him. You took him in, taking it slow as you looked into his beautiful eyes, feeling yourself consumed by his gaze. The urge to obey took over as you felt yourself becoming lost inside the intimacy of the moment between the two of you.

You started to sob as time went on, feeling like the experience was too much for you. Charles waited a moment for you to get used to it, but before you actually could, he was pulling you down again.

The sensations were intense and overwhelming. You felt both panic and excitement as you felt Max trying to insert himself in you.

But you pulled away from him from the overwhelming sensation.

"Cariño, you said you would be a good girl."

His words filled you with both a sense of panic and excitement, as if he was reminding you of his power over you. He had brought you to this moment and he was the one setting the rules of it.

"I'm sorry."

Is all you could say at the moment, as the words of him were still ringing in your ears.

"Spread your cheeks honey." Max said sweetly.

Following his instruction to be a good girl, you went with the flow in that moment, feeling Charles's presence inside of you and Max slowly creeping into you. The sensation was new and intense, and it took some time before you could adjust to it. But once you did, all those feelings of excitement and lust escalated into you coming undone with a loud cry.

"So fucking tight." Max hissed.

Lost in pleasure and the high of the moment, you fell on Charles's chest, his presence inside of you creating an intense experience.

"Kiss Me." Charles told you.

Hearing his words, you looked up to him and saw him gazing at you intently. His gaze filled you with a jolt of energy and desire.

Raising your head to meet his lips, you let yourself be carried away by the kiss while Carlos’s wandering hand toyed with your clit.

The loud moans escaping you were a reflection of the overwhelming sensation of satisfaction you were experiencing. It all became too much, too intense, and too perfect. Max's grip on your hips kept you steady and you felt so good in his arms.

"Such a good girl." He rasped in your ear.

Charles grabbed you by your breasts and started thrusting into you from below.

You were coming for the second time with Carlos as he was handling himself while looking at the intense scene.

"Such a good girl." Max told you and Charles pinched your nipples.

Seeing the state that Charles had been brought to made you feel powerful. The color of his cheeks, his parted lips, and the pure passion in his eyes, unlike anything you had seen before, made you understand the immense pleasure he was experiencing, and the intense desire he had for you.

You felt him slowly buck under you, his cock starting to stretch and grow inside of you.

"Charles, cum in me."

The command you gave made Charles let out a loud moan, and to that Carlos laughed.

Carlos walked next to you and placed his hand on your face, turning it towards him, and locking your gaze onto his. His grip was firm, letting you know who was in charge.

He tapped your lips and you opened them up for him. He drove his cock into you.

You felt Max grow inside you and even with Carlos' cock in your mouth you screamed as Max bit your neck hard enough to silence his moans.

Charles was lost in the sensations, moaning and stuttering which made him unable to form any coherent words. His eyes were open and wide, filled with pure desire and pleasure watching you taking Carlos.

In the afterglow of the intense high that everyone was experiencing, you were all panting, the effects still lingering, making the whole moment seem even more real.

"We are very proud of you."

Hearing Charles's words and the gentle pinch on your cheek, you felt a warm, fuzzy feeling come over you.

“Shall we switch positions?”

Carlos's question brought you back to reality, and you nodded eagerly, eager to experience more.

[schemmentis]

Like I Can

Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

Warnings: Angst, I guess?

Word Count: 2.1k

You met Melissa on what she calls her ‘worst night.’ Just finding out her husband had been cheating on her for God knew how long. In emotional overload and perusing her favorite bar for someone to get back at him with. Even though deep down she knew evening the score so to speak wouldn't really make her feel better.

Regardless, it was what she was doing. She'd enlisted you as her wing woman after you'd chatted awhile at the bar while her eyes roamed over the rest of the establishment. She promised she'd snag you a guy too before she left with whomever she decided was worth her night. You'd quietly informed her you weren't looking for any men. She'd only grinned and told you she'd snag you a woman then.

Melissa had kept to her promise. A burly guy that had an arm around her waist by the time she was introducing you to a woman. She slipped you a napkin with her number on it. A glance at it in your hand with a quickly scribbled note to call her and hang up after two rings a few times if your date turned…well, the words she'd used had you stuffing the napkin into your pocket quickly. 

You had only smiled and told her to have fun. You hoped she had someone else's number if her date did anything she didn't want that evening. For your part, you spent a drink or two with the woman she'd found you but didn't go home with her. Though she did give you her number too.

When you got home you saved Melissa's number. You threw away your date’s. You really hadn't been interested in a one night stand. It just wasn't your kind of thing. Melissa had a certain charm though, and you needed to make sure she was alright. You left a text with your name and asked her to text you the next morning just to make sure she was okay.

The text you woke up to had plenty of emojis to tell you just how her night went. You were glad she was safe, and even more glad she didn't give you details past the little emojis. You didn't really need the mental image. Though you couldn't help your mind briefly picturing just Melissa in a suggestive flash of day dream that you quickly blinked away.

Without planning on it, from then you and Melissa became good friends. You texted most days about whatever was going on. You had to talk her down plenty of times when Joe pissed her off in the first few months as she tried to, in her words, ‘make it work’. You learned plenty of Italian swearing and unique insults that you're certain only Melissa could have come up with. 

She ended up on your doorstep late one night. Disheveled in a way that was so unlike Melissa. Someone who planned her outfits meticulously and took pride in her appearance. Her eyes were red and swollen as she told you she and Joe were getting divorced. You pulled her into your living room with no hesitation.

You might have met Melissa on her worst night but by now you knew her quite well. It broke your heart for her to hear about the divorce. You knew despite how much she'd been hurt by Joe and did what she could to make him feel the same in return; she did love him. 

The thing about Melissa was she didn't love halfway. She loved the Eagles like they were the only sports team that existed and if you asked she'd tell you they were the only ones that mattered anyhow. She loved the kids she taught like each one was her very own. She loved her family ferociously even when they annoyed her. Including her sister that she claimed to hate. 

You never said it to her but you're pretty sure Melissa wasn't capable of hating anything. This thought only reinforced the night you'd held her while she wept on your couch. Her hands clutching your shirt in an iron grip to keep you close. Empty promises about making Joe regret ever meeting her and cursing him in every way she knew how. Because even with everything that had happened between them she loved him. 

You were there for her however you could be, as much as you could be. You helped her move Joe’s things out of the house once they'd decided she'd keep it. You went shopping with her when she decided she needed to redecorate the entire house. You spent a weekend painting the living room and bedroom. When you asked if she wanted to do anything with the kitchen she'd asked if you were crazy. 

It wasn't until a week later you realized the only places in her house that had been redone were shared spaces. You knew how Melissa loved to cook. You'd had your share of the too large portions she had a habit of making and gave you parts of. Joe probably never had much to do with the kitchen.

You do your best to keep her from making hasty decisions. Ones made in the heat of her emotions. Like the evening you'd both been drinking and she said she was gonna go to Joe's apartment and wreck his car with her baseball bat. She’d made it as far as standing in her living room, bat in hand and barefoot in pajamas. You at least got her to laugh when you said you didn't have the money to bail her out when she got arrested. 

You have less convincing arguments when she goes searching for one night stands. She convinces you to be her wing woman again. Her good luck charm she called you. You only entertained this once or twice. It was surprisingly difficult for you to see her this way. Even though it was how you met. 

You felt something deep and cutting in your stomach every time you went with her. Every time you watched her flirting with men. Every time she would wiggle her fingers at you in a wave goodbye with a wink and smile over her shoulder as she left the bar with a different man. 

The last time you'd gone with her you'd ended up drinking until you passed out at home. Melissa had used your extra key to get in to wake you when you never answered her. Convinced you'd gone home with someone else, just like she thought you had every other time. You'd gotten a lecture about making her think you were murdered over the breakfast she made in your small kitchen. 

The next time she tried to get you to go with her; you claimed you weren't handling alcohol so well lately. She'd taken the excuse exactly once. It was difficult each week to come up with a new one that she would buy enough to let go. You managed for a while though. 

By the time she met Gary, you'd figured it out. What that stab of pain whenever you watched her flirt or leave for a night with her different dates. You hadn't even noticed it had happened. You never planned on it. Melissa was your closest friend, all you had ever been worried about was being there for her. Apparently somewhere in the process, your heart got a mind of its own and fell for her too. 

Somehow, the aching stab with Gary is worse. Now instead of different men's names each week you can never remember, it's Gary's. Instead of begging her to remember you really didn't need the details of her sex life, she's telling you about date nights and sweet conversations. Whenever she tells you about what she did while you were apart you don't have to ask who she went with. It's Gary. 

You meet him. Of course you do. Melissa likes him enough that she's seeing him regularly. The first real relationship she's built since Joe. Other than you. You remind yourself you don't count in that way. 

Gary is…nice. He's different than the guys you've seen Melissa take home in one night stands. Both in looks and personality. From what little you knew of those men's personalities, anyway. But he makes Melissa laugh, a beautiful laugh you've always smiled to hear. Even if she's gripping his arm while she laughs. 

Gary is nice. You'd be okay with him if it weren't for the way every time you see him the knife in your chest twists. For the way every time he calls Melissa his girl or compliments her it turns. You'd even forgive the pause and look when Melissa had corrected him when he asked if you had a boyfriend.

Melissa notices. Your distaste for him. She knows you as well as you know her. She calls you on it after the first time you meet him. 

“Ya don't like him.” She said, not asked. 

You had shrugged and bought your time by pointing out you didn't really know him to know whether you liked him or not. 

The longer she's with him, though, the more she sees how much you don't like him. You try to hide it, of course. You know how much she likes him and you're not going to be petty and dig at one of the first things that's made her so happy since you met her. You do what you can to focus on being happy for her. 

At the end of the day, Melissa’s happiness is all you really want. You're okay with the knife dug into your chest, really. If it keeps her this happy. 

You don't know if it's her knowing how you feel about Gary, or no longer wanting to put the two of you in the same place, but she introduces you to Barbara. The infamous Barbara Howard that Melissa called her best friend and work wife. You'd heard plenty of her. Even a drunken comment that if Barb wasn't already married and Melissa swung that way she'd make her a Schemmenti. You think she was joking. Mostly. 

As you get to know Barbara, you think to yourself she already is a Schemmenti. With the years she and Melissa have known each other and been such good friends, it isn't surprising she knows all the Schemmenti lore. Though, she seems surprised to find that you do too. In the beginning, often you recognize the story she's telling you from when Melissa had and you interject with the ending. 

Slowly, you and Barbara form your own friendship. Sometimes, Melissa is entirely absent from your get-togethers. Usually for dates with Gary. If Barbara notes your mood is more sullen those evenings, she does you the grace of not mentioning it. 

You realize after a few months that you've seen more of Barbara than you have of Melissa. Most of what you know she's been doing lately is through Barb and not from the red head directly. The knife in your chest pulses around the wound it's made. You miss her. Yet you can't bring yourself to reach out to her yourself. You can't decide which feels worse. Missing Melissa or feeling the stabbing push deeper into you when you do see her. 

You do something you never thought you would. You make Barb your wing woman. Like Melissa once did you. She's perfectly willing and you push away the thought of how many times she'd done the same for Melissa. She makes you promise to call her in the morning before you leave with the woman you meet. You actually go home with her. You let yourself forget everything but the drinks you've had and the woman in front of you. 

You call Barbara in the morning. Well, late morning. You'd slept a bit too much with the hangover you're now severely feeling. You barely have time to say hello before Barbara is apologizing.

“Sorry for what, Barb?”

“I told Melissa.”

You hesitate. You don't love Melissa knowing you had a one night stand but you don't see why that's a reason for the woman to be apologizing to you. 

“Well. She'd have probably found out anyway.” You finally say.

“No,” Barbara says. “I told her I couldn't get a hold of you. She's probably on her way there now.”

“Shit,” You curse. Barbara doesn't even chide you for your language.

Your front door opens so fast it bangs against the wall. You turn to see Melissa standing in your living room with her arms crossing over her chest once she sees you stood in the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” 

[hisui-dreamer]

hiii rinna!!! congratulations on 2k!!!!!! ˃ᴗ˂ 🫶🫶🫶🎉🎉🎉🎉agsgsh I hope I'm not too late ^^"

can I request silver with white rose? :D

foolish decisions in blossoming love

Pairing: Silver x gn!reader

Synopsis: in getting one bouquet for a friend, you ended up getting another bouquet for a stranger

Tags: meet cute, fluff, florist au, reader is just really flustered

Word count: 1.1k+

Notes: you're not late at all kei, im the one who's late ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ i hope silver fluff makes up for it!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: white roses

white roses represent pure love, indicating that you are willing to sacrifice your all for your love

The bell tinkled gently as you pushed open the door to the quaint flower shop. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in a symphony of fragrances, the sweet aroma of fresh blooms mingling with the earthy scent of potted plants. The air was alive with vitality, as if each petal and leaf whispered secrets of beauty and renewal.

Your gaze swept over the charming interior, your eyes drinking in the riot of colours and shapes that adorned every corner of the shop. A kaleidoscope of blossoms greeted you, their vibrant hues dancing in the soft, golden light that filtered through the windows. It was a scene straight out of a painting, a sanctuary of serenity amidst the bustling city streets.

You caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and your attention was drawn to the silver-haired man, positioned behind the counter. His fingers expertly arranged a bouquet with effortless skill, moving with a fluidity that hinted at years of practice. The gentle sunlight bathed his face, creating a soft halo around his silhouette.

Your heart skipped a beat as you beheld him, and your breath momentarily caught in your throat. There was an ethereal quality to his presence, reminiscent of a fairy straight out of a storybook.

"Excuse me," you finally managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, spellbound by his presence.

He looked up, his purple-blue eyes meeting yours with a softness that sent shivers down your spine. "Hello there," he replied, a smile gracing his lips. "How may I help you?"

Your mind cleared momentarily, focusing on the reason you came here. "I’m looking to buy a bouquet," you said, your voice steadier now. “My friend hasn't been feeling well lately. I thought some flowers might brighten their day.”

He nodded sympathetically, understanding the sentiment.

“I see… Is there a particular type they like?”

"Not particularly. I just want something to lift their spirits," you answered earnestly.

With a gentle nod, he considered your words, his fingers tracing over the petals of various blooms thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bouquet of lilies," he suggested, his eyes alight with inspiration. "Lilies are often associated with purity and success, making them a perfect choice to wish for a successful recovery."

You hummed at his words, a sense of wonder dawning on your face. "I didn’t know flowers carried messages…" you mumbled curiously.

He smiled warmly, appreciating your interest. "Yes, the language of flowers has been used for centuries to convey sentiments and emotions. Each flower has its own unique symbolism, allowing us to express our feelings in a beautiful and meaningful way," he explained, his passion for flowers shining through in his words.

As you watched him speak, you found yourself drawn to the grace with which he moved, the way his fingers delicately caressed each petal as if coaxing out its hidden secrets. There was something about the warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, that stirred your soul. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, entranced by the depth of his passion.

It was irrational of you to be so affected by a stranger. You wanted to stay in his presence, to bask in the light of his warmth and kindness for as long as you possibly could. In that fleeting moment, you found yourself inexplicably attached to him, drawn to him in a way that defied all logic and reason.

In an effort to hear him talk more, to hear his calming voice longer, you pointed to a delicate white rose, meekly asking, "What does this one mean?

His eyes crinkled as he smiled gently. "White roses symbolize pure love."

Your heart skipped a beat once again, the meaning of the flower resonating deeply within you. "Pure love," you murmured, lost in thought for a moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Silver said, breaking you out of your thoughts as he disappeared into the back of the shop with some lilies, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your infatuation towards the gentle florist. You was barely gone for five minutes, but you already missed him, wanting to spend more time with him, to learn more about the stories that lay hidden behind his kind eyes and warm demeanour.

But how could you make it more natural? How could you bridge the gap between customer and florist? The answer eluded you, but you knew that you couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"Here we are," Silver said, a sense of satisfaction in his voice as he walked back to your side. "I hope it brings comfort and cheer to your friend."

Your eyes shimmered with gratitude as you beheld the finished arrangement. "It’s beautiful…," you breathed, your voice filled with awe. "Thank you. I'm sure they’ll love it."

Silver’s smile brightened at your words, and you felt a surge of courage welling up inside you. With a timid yet determined voice, you finally voiced the words that had been lingering on your tongue. "If it’s alright, I'd like to request another too."

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. "Another bouquet?"

You nodded, bashfulness colouring your cheeks. "Yes, one with white roses, please."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly put on a polite smile. “Of course, please wait a moment,” before disappearing in the back again.

A pang of sadness tugged at his heart as he meticulously prepared the delicate white roses. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment knowing that you already had someone in your life whom you wanted to dedicate pure love to. Despite his efforts to hide it, a faint shadow crossed his features as he arranged the flowers with practised care, his thoughts momentarily clouded by a hint of longing.

But as he showed you the completed bouquet, his feelings of melancholy were quickly replaced by a surge of warmth, your genuine appreciation for his assistance washing away any lingering sadness.

You swiftly settled the payment for both bouquets, your heart pounding with anticipation as you gathered your courage. With a determined breath, you reached out and delicately handed Silver the bouquet of white roses. His eyes met yours, a confused expression flickering across his features as he awaited your next move.

"Silver," you began, your voice trembling slightly yet resolute, "these are for you." As the words slipped from your lips, a rush of uncertainty engulfed you, but you pushed through, driven by the intensity of your emotions. "They represent... what I feel for you."

Embarrassment flooded your senses as the rational side of you chastised the idiocy of giving flowers to a florist. Could you be any more embarrassing?

Hastily, you uttered, "Thank you for your help! I hope I’ll see you more often!" Leaving behind a note bearing your number, you made a swift exit with the lilies, the jingle of the bell marking your departure.

But had you lingered for just a moment longer, you would have witnessed a rosy blush blossoming across the florist's cheeks and spreading down his neck, a loving smile spreading across his face.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[flickering-nightfall]

I loveee how you draw iterator antennae,, please tell how do you design them?? Personally for me one of the hardest parts of designing iterators

Also - Love you art! Have a good day/night :)

Tysm <3

This one's tough, I don't really think too hard about how I design antennae. I just go with whatever looks right and fits the character lol but I'll try to talk about it anyways.

Moon and Pebbles are based off their in-game appearances. They have changes between depictions though so there's some wiggle room. Pebbles' is based off his sprite and Moon's off of one of her art pieces. (Her dull blue color is pulled from her sprite.) This seems to be popular in fan depictions too.

Sig and Suns are also based off official depictions. Sig I took some more liberties with - he really should have rounder, more protruding headphone bases. But I wanted some variety in headphone bases and he kind of just... ended up with a geometric shape theme to match his diamond mark. This is their only official image, so I just shrugged and gave them some broad small antennae that would be hidden at the back from this front angle, because I wanted to. (Bald Sig is valid but I like what I did hah)

Suns is a mix between the in-game art and the concept art by (I'm never sure what name to use here, but the art listed on the wiki is by-) Minkimaro. Mine's gotten more blocky/volumetric antennae over time, and every time I draw them their collar gets bigger. It's an addiction. They have to be comfy.

Wind and Innocence both have more unique antenna, and multiple segments. I wanted to balance them out with the others design-wise, but I wanted them to be distinct from each other too. So Wind gets these wide fan antenna and Innocence get triple thin antenna on joints.

And here's some OCs for variety.

I guess here's some stuff to chew on-

Shape, width, size of the base headphone parts

Shape, width, size of the antennae

How many antennae? Are the antennae all the same size/shape?

Embellishments (such as the extra details on Flicker's)

Does the design suit the character's look? If they can emote with the antennae, how does that fit their personality?

If it matters to you, how do your antenna work, mechanically speaking? If they can move, do they have ranges? For example - Suns' antennae have great horizontal range, but they can't fold them down past their headphone bases.

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Guide Dan Vol.51, April 2024 Issue ft. Sakai Taisei x Higuchi Kouhei Interview (translations below)

Publication: April 5, 2024

UNIQUE

"Could you please introduce the role the other plays in the V-Cinext films King-Ohger VS Donbrothers and King-Ohger VS Kyoryuger?"

Higuchi: Gira Husty, played by Taisei, is a character that has the right characteristics of being a so called main character, and I thought he was a completely different Red from the one in Donbrothers. The atmosphere Gira created was one you couldn't find in Donbrothers.

Sakai: Gira and Higuchi-kun's role of Momoi Tarou are the exact opposite in terms of character design. Tarou is an absolute ruler who brings everyone together, which is different from King-Ohger, where everyone has their own individuality but are still able to keep up with each other. In a way, I also feel "jealous."

Higuchi: Still, I think all Super Sentai members feel "jealous." The Producers and Scriptwriters give other Sentai "colors" we don't have, so it's only natural for us to think, "I like those colors."

Sakai: That's why the history of Super Sentai continues, and the fans enjoy it every year. I definitely wanted a "color" I don't have. That's why I'm happy to have the opportunity to be involved with other Super Sentai members like this!

"What were your impressions of each other before you met? Did your impressions change after meeting?"

Sakai: At first, I thought he was a cool guy, but on set, all the two of us would do was talk!

Higuchi: I felt the same way, and thought Taisei was a quiet guy (laughs). Actually, that wasn't the case at all, as I was surprised and happy to find that we were compatible when we talked in the dressing room. During this shoot, even though I had my own dressing room, I would go to Taisei's dressing room instead.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was cool and manly, and my impression of his manliness is probably the same as it was before we met. We're similar in that we both get carried away.

"How would you describe your relationship?"

Higuchi: This is just my opinion, but in the context of our relationship in Super Sentai, I'm his senior Red, but in terms of our age, I'm his junior. In my case, regardless of age, as long as there's mutual respect, I want our relationship to be that we're like friends. That's why I unconsciously treated Taisei like he was already my friend. I'm sorry!

Sakai: It was also easier to say things like, "Let's go out to eat." I'm the same as Kouhei, I think it's easier that way. It makes me happier if you come to me without hesitation, rather than be cautious because I'm older than you, I think it makes it easier to talk about the performance and acting.

"Have you seen each other's shows, King-Ohger and Donbrothers? Please tell us about any episodes that were most memorable for you."

Higuchi: I remember very well when the first episode of King-Ohger aired while we were performing at Theatre G-Rosso. We saw it on the TV backstage at G-Rosso, and everyone was envious of it, saying, "It's really cool!" (laughs). I still love the first episode.

Sakai: For me it has to be the final episode, I thought it was really great that it ended with the very memorable, "We've formed a bond." I thought it was nice that it started and ended with those words. It's also easy to use at things like events! It's hard to find a place to say, "I'm going to rule the world!" (laughs). I like the fact that the first episode established the bond, and while the ending came, it was also a beginning.

"Were there any challenging or fun parts during filming?"

Higuchi: Speaking of challenges, the filming location was at the King-Ohger's studio, and it was my first time using a green screen that covered all sides. So, on my first day in the studio, I was surprised and thought to myself, "How do we do this?!" Once you get a feel for it though, you get used to it.

Sakai: Donbrothers was shot entirely on location. On the other hand, we had the pleasure of filming on a set. As for difficult scenes, Kouhei seemed to have a hard time in the scene where Gira choked on some mochi. It's because he had to put his hand firmly in my mouth (laughs).

Higuchi: It was harder for Taisei, wasn't it?! Wouldn't it have been easier to simply put it in? If it were the other way around, I think I would've felt awkward afterwards (laughs).

"What did you feel after watching each other's performance?"

Higuchi: I thought Taisei always took his acting seriously. Also, his eyes are incredibly pretty and distinct. I think he's got alot of strong points.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was a stoic person in his performance. He spent alot of time thinking on his own, doing things like sorting out his emotions abit before the cameras started rolling. Even after he was given the OK, he studied things from the side the moment after and thought, "I could've done this better," so I respect that stoicism.

"Please tell us some of the highlights this time."

Sakai: They're both Super Sentai with tons of personality that rival each other for first and second place of this generation, so I think it'll be a highlight to see how they'll unite and how the story will progress. Also, this time, both Reds are characters that laugh out loud. Within the battle scene is a scene where the two of us are laughing loudly, and it was pretty difficult to film, so I want you to see it. It was a long scene, about 30 seconds, and we were laughing the whole time (laughs).

Higuchi: It's as if two Super Sentai were combined to form a new Sentai, and I think this is a movie where each member has their own highlights. Also, the King-Ohger's costumes are really cool, so it's worth seeing. Among us, Jiro, the Noto, and Inuzuka's costumes might be as good as the Kings. The other four are in ordinary clothing (laughs).

"You both have experience playing soccer, and you kicked a ball around during the photoshoot, so what are your thoughts on each other's skills?"

Sakai: I think this is probably common in soccer clubs, but I can tell just from the ball rolling alittle bit if someone is "good."

Higuchi: I get that! The moment someone kicks a ball and stops it with their foot, an experienced player can tell that, "This guy's good." However, I'm sure this is a feeling that baseball and basketball teams also have.

"Did you talk about soccer during filming?"

Higuchi: If I'm remembering right, after filming finished for Donbrothers and King-Ohger was about to start, Taisei said to me, "You used to play soccer, didn't you? Let's play futsal!"

Sakai: Right, I just thought since you had experience playing soccer. Futsal is fun, so I'd love to do it again!

"This issue also features Iuchi Haruhi-kun and Hayama Yuki-kun from the currently airing Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger. As their seniors in the Super Sentai series, please give them a message."

Higuchi: The quality of Super Sentai is really different each generation, but I think the one thing they all have in common is that they're "very challenging." That's why, when it comes to acting, I can never say, "It's better like this." The only thing I can think of to say is, "Please have fun in Oizumigakuen, where the filming studio is located." I enjoyed it tremendously (laughs).

Sakai: Right! Depending on whether or not you have fun in Oizumigakuen and at the filming studio, the story could change. The more favorite places and stores you have, the better, and you can go out to eat with ease. As Kouhei said, it's challenging to film every day, so I think it's good to find a place you can "rely on." It'd be nice if after enjoying Oizumigakuen, you go to a different site for another job and end up thinking, "I want to come back here someday."

"And finally, when speaking of Donbrothers, oden may come to mind, so please tell us what both of your favorite ingredients are."

Higuchi: Chikuwa!

Sakai: I love eggs, and I also love daikon radishes!

Higuchi: In the end, which one's the very best?! (laughs).

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter one

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.

Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.

It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.

Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.

Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.

"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"

Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"

"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"

Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"

"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."

When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.

On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.

Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.

Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.

I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.

I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.

When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.

I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."

It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.

"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"

He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."

He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.

"No," he says softly after some hesitation.

"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"

"Yes."

I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?

He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."

"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.

"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.

"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"

He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.

I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.

[fioiswriting]

The sea and the fire

“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang

Rating : will be explicit 18+ later, MDNI Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader later TW : mention of blood, mention of murder. TW will be added as the story progresses. Words count : 4361 AN : Hello everyone! I'm back from the deads hehe. Sorry, I've been busy with a lot of things lately, I've had a couple of exams and I'm also in the process of writing my (second) master's thesis. Sooo anyway, I've written the first chapter of my new fanfic. Yes, it is YET ANOTHER story that involves niece!reader x Aemond and it is adapted from an RP with my girlfriend. If you're tired of this trope, if you're uncomfortable with this dynamic, I suggest you find another fanfic (there are plenty of masterpieces on tumblr anyway!! 💕). It's been on my mind for a long time, and I finally found the time to finish this first chapter. I don't know yet how many chapters there will be or how often I'll post, but I hope you like it! 💕 As always, be nice, I know there are probably some inconsistencies, but we're here to have fun, right? (BTW, I've been bingewatching Vikings and I know the fandom is kinda dead, but I want to write some x readers now)

Also, English is not my first (nor second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes!!

Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 1 : Street of Silk 

War of heart - Ruelle 🎶

The streets of King's Landing had the peculiar quality of being both enticing and repelling; like a unique, curious spectacle that you discovered with every hesitant step you took. The smell of fresh fish mingled with that of fire and sewers, tickling your nose with unfamiliar smells. It was new to you, these smells, these sounds too; the hammering of the blacksmith's tools on the metal, the shouts of the merchants, the rolling of the cartwheels on the cobblestones of the winding streets. It was different from what you were used to; the steady rocking of the waves, the calm of the rain, the ups and downs of the tides. The only turbulence in your daily life were the storms you were so fond of, and the thunder, the lightning, the wind that shook the stones and lifted the waves had an untameable yet terribly soothing aspect. 

Unlike King's Landing. 

If it wasn't the natural elements that threatened to unleash their wrath here in King's Landing, it was the unpredictability of the people in the streets, the danger lurking around every corner, the risk of disappearing forever into the shadows of a forgotten alley.

Apart from the hustle and bustle of the forbidden streets you were discovering for the first time after so many years - and the adrenaline rush of breaking the restriction on venturing there - King's Landing was, objectively speaking, a deadly bore. 

But it was still less boring than going round in circles in the castle. 

You knew it was the dream of every lady in the Seven Kingdoms to live within the walls of the Red Keep, for it had been yours for a long time. Back when you lived in your childhood bedroom - the one on the second floor - you had no trouble imagining yourself spending your life in the gardens of the Red Keep, with your husband, enjoying the strawberry cakes and the books in the great library.

After all, you and Aemond were inseparable. 

But in the meantime, fate had decided otherwise, and the mild climate of King's Landing, where you were born, where you celebrated your first words and your first steps, had been replaced by the vagaries of Dragonstone's weather. It was the sea, the storm and the rain that raised you, and it was with your feet in the water, on the shingle, that you grew up. 

Living in King's Landing now was different from anything you'd ever imagined before. 

King's Landing tasted bland. Boring.  

Your mother had promised that the stay would be temporary, a few weeks at most, just to settle some business with Alicent and Viserys - your grandfather. The aim was to find a way to keep the peace between your families, but you weren't an idiot. You knew that the rift between your families was growing wider and wider.

And that one of the only ways to prevent a total, irreparable rupture was a promise of marriage. 

Then again, wasn't it your duty to be sold into marriage, to strengthen the bonds, to carry the family's shaky balance on your shoulders?

You already missed Dragonstone. You missed the sea. You missed walking on cold water.

King's Landing was like a golden prison you couldn't leave because everything around it was too dangerous.

And you were bored. You had been reading. You had been embroidering. You had wandered far and wide through the gardens. You'd listened kindly and attentively to Helaena talk about her insects, and you'd spent several afternoons sharing court gossip with Baela and Rhaena.

You spent much of your time avoiding your uncle. Or watching him from afar.

For he had changed terribly; for better or worse, you weren't sure. You only kept the memories of your shared childhood, somewhere in your heart, like a buried secret, like a triple-locked treasure you'd sworn never to open again. 

The memories were painful. They created a lump in your throat, they kept you awake at night, they made your tears flow.  

And that was why you locked them away and threw away the key that kept them locked. 

You decided you weren't that child anymore - you stopped being that child when you went your separate ways, when you went back to Dragonstone and he stayed here. Now he wasn't the little boy you left either: he had become this cold, tall, ruthless young man. He had that cunning little smile, that air of self-assurance he wore with his head held high and his chin up.

Boredom drove you to follow Aegon into the city. He suggested it and suddenly all sense of reason left your body. Weren't you the most reasonable of your siblings, the most prudent, the most intelligent? An inexplicable feeling had urged you to accept, like two hands behind your back pushing you towards him, like a voice in your head encouraging you to abandon your model daughter's appearance: the call of transgression. Curiosity. The desire to be bold. The danger. For once you were making a decision, your own decision, without your parents or brothers knowing. You were the master of your actions, and in a way, it was an act of rebellion that gave you a feeling of freedom, that awakened a sense of excitement in you.

Ser Erryk protested, of course, when he realised your little ploy, but you had already vanished before he could stop you. You laughed as you followed Aegon, his mischievous smile at the corner of his lips as he led you through the secret passage that allowed you to sneak out of the castle, your hand in the crook of his elbow so as not to lose you. 

And everything went well. You enjoyed your newfound freedom with a mixture of curiosity and fear, your body pressed against your uncle's, the hood pulled down over your forehead. You had the advantage of dark hair - the opposite of the Targaryens' emblematic features. It attracted less attention, you knew it. But your curious gaze, your round eyes that discovered the ordinary life of the lowborn must have intrigued the most observant ones, for Aegon nudged you in the ribs when he caught you looking a little too intently at the work of a craftsman. 

"You make a poor peasant," he whispered in your ear. "Well... You're obviously too pretty to be a peasant, that's for sure. But try to be more discreet." He paused. "Those men are looking at you like hungry dogs" he lowered his voice. You rolled your eyes and patted him on the shoulder. 

To tell the truth, you weren't comfortable with all those men giving you lecherous looks, but Aegon's presence was reassuring. 

He showed you the shortcuts he knew, the secrets, the curiosities of the city, and he talked to you. You wondered if he, too, had changed. You wondered if he'd gone from that stupid, mocking, annoying child to a secretly vulnerable, secretly lonely young adult. You knew about his bad habits; alcohol and sex, but this secret escapade showed you a side of him you didn't know. When had he become nice?

"Wait for me," he said as you looked around. The streets had changed, they had become busier, and suddenly you realised that you were frightened. "I'll be quick. Don't move and keep this on your head." 

You wanted to protest, to hold him back, but your uncle had already slipped away.

You were all alone in the Silk of Street.

Your heartbeat quickened. You weren't sure you'd find your way back, and Aegon had ordered you to stay there, not to move, not to talk to anyone. Fuck.

Fuck.

Had he done it on purpose? Was it a plan he'd been hatching all along, a bad joke he'd decided to play on his niece, on Rhaenyra's only daughter? Was he still the mean boy who bullied his little brother? Or did he actually have a real reason for leaving you there, all alone, in the street where brothels piled up and nobles went to satisfy their needs? 

You were angry at yourself for trusting him. You blamed yourself for being so naive. You couldn't believe he'd really set a trap for you, not after the complicity you'd shared just before. 

Or maybe he was just being Aegon; irresponsible and immature, oblivious to danger, and so stupid as to think that waiting for him here was a good idea.

You sighed. Tears tickled the corners of your eyes with fear, but you tried to chase them away, to swallow them down, to calm your racing heart. The last thing you needed was to draw attention to yourself.

But there were these men all around you, looking at you as if they were ready to pounce. Was this how you would end up, abducted, and sold into a cheap brothel? Murdered after serving the needs of a few old men? You shuddered at the thought. 

The voices around you mingled with the tumult, blurred images drawing unidentified shapes before your eyes, and you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself, rubbing your sweaty palms against the fabric of your cloak. 

"So? What do you say, girl?" 

A hand on your waist.

You weren't sure you understood what the man in front of you was saying. The words were bouncing around in your head without you being able to make them out, but his hungry smile was enough to reveal their nature. You froze. He was joined by another man, and you took a step back, then a second. It was as if your body refused to obey you, as if your brain stopped working, and you hated yourself for it. 

You hated yourself for being so weak. 

You had a dragon. You were a Targaryen. So why were you trembling? Why couldn't you gather your courage and run, gather your courage and plunge your dagger into someone's chest, fight and scream?

One of them, the older-looking one, closed his hand around your wrist. 

"Let me go!" You screamed, but the words caught in your throat, escaping your lips like a distorted cry. "Go away!" 

Simple commands that couldn't get through the space between your lips with the authority you wanted. 

You closed your eyes, trying to resist.

Fuck. You were going to die. You were going to be raped and then you were going to die, or be sold into sex work, or -

Something splashed in your face and suddenly you felt free. 

"Didn't you hear her? She said let me go," a hoarse voice growled. 

Your blood ran cold. 

You knew exactly who it was.

That calm but sharp tone belonged to only one person: Aemond Targaryen.

How had he found you? Why had he found you? You opened your eyes instantly, your cheeks still red with shame. You knew you'd been irresponsible, and that wasn't in your nature at all, quite the opposite. But the fact that Aemond had caught you in such a weak position bothered and annoyed you. 

It was supposed to be your secret, your act of rebellious transgression, your forbidden escapade with Aegon. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be Aemond rescuing you.

You opened your eyes. Facing you, the older man was kneeling on the pavement. He was clutching at his right side, blood trickling through his fingers to the ground. He was suffocating, blood pouring from his lips, but Aemond wiped the blade of his sword with a satisfied smile. 

The crowd had gathered to watch what was happening, a mixture of fear and curiosity on their faces, but Aemond was already hastening to chase them away in a tone that left no room for discussion:

"There's nothing to see," he thundered. "Go away. All of you. Or I'll serve you as food for Vhagar."

The crowd dispersed, frightened; women grabbing their children by the shoulders to force them to move, barefoot beggars hurrying to gather their bowl and few coins to find another place, prostitutes closing the curtains with an irritated sigh, old men almost stumbling, and soon the street was deserted.

Despite the hood that covered his face, you could see the flat line of his grin and the cold, accusing look with which he stared at you. He was furious. 

Perhaps he expected you to thank him, for Aemond approached you without a word. You looked up at him, your cheeks still red with shame. You were too proud to thank him. 

And you were still too angry, too.

Angry at his silence all these years, angry that he'd let you down when you'd stood up for him, angry at the man he'd become. 

"Are you coming or not?" he asked in his icy voice, his hand already closing around your wrist to force you forward, but you didn't move.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, frowning. You'd suddenly regained your repartee. 

You knew you had to calm things down, thank him and follow him in silence. Accept the humiliation and beg for his silence. You knew you were making things more difficult than they already were, but that was Aemond. And once again, in front of Aemond, you had a pride to uphold.

"What am I doing here?" he repeated, his voice sharp. He froze, his dark eyes glaring at you as if you'd just insulted him. Suddenly you felt so small in front of him. "I should be asking you that question," he added dryly, obviously trying to keep the tone of his voice under control. "You're even more stupid than I thought."

The sentence had the effect of a slap in the face, and you felt your cheeks burning. Like a little girl caught red-handed, you lowered your head. What had been going through your mind? Why had you decided to follow Aegon in the first place?

Aemond lifted you with ease and slung you over his shoulder like a sack of flour, as if he wanted to be sure you would follow him, as if he feared you would escape again, as if he didn't trust you. 

And in the end, perhaps he was right.

As he carried you to the Red Keep, your fists pounded on his back. Small blows that he ignored, painless on the width that was his back. 

He seemed to ignore you, perhaps more annoyed that you wouldn't stay still than anything else. But you didn't need him to play the perfect knight, not when he'd been ignoring you all this time. Not when he'd barely spoken to you on your return to King's Landing. Not when he drew a line under your childhood as if nothing had happened. 

Not when he kept harassing your brothers. 

It irritated you. He played the role of the ideal husband-to-be, impassive and calm; as if he'd always been the knight in shining armour he never was.

"You could at least let me go," you sighed, seeing that nothing seemed to disturb your uncle's icy calm. "I know how to walk. "

He had a moment's hesitation where he stopped, and then you felt him readjust your position with a flick of his shoulder. You had no trouble imagining the corners of his lips curling upwards, painting his face with his usual insolent grin, you had no trouble imagining him chuckling at your condition.

"Stop it, you are only making it harder for us," he growled in an authoritative voice. "And if you are not happy, I can always leave you here."  He paused. "I did not know you dreamed of working in a brothel."

The comment was enough to send another wave of heat up your cheeks, colouring them red, but you tried as best you could to keep your composure, as if not to betray your embarrassment in front of the prince. 

You refused to show him that his remark had affected you.

You just gritted your teeth and sighed. 

The position was becoming uncomfortable: Aemond's bony shoulder was digging into your stomach and your legs were going numb, as if thousands of little ants were crawling all over them. 

You hoped no one would see you when you got back to the castle. Your excursion into the city was supposed to be discreet; you weren't supposed to come back with a blood-stained tunic, nor hanging over your one-eyed uncle's shoulders. 

If Aemond knew anything about the impending official announcement of your betrothal, he said nothing, walking ahead of him as if you were as light as a sack of grain.

"Qybor." You whispered again, this time using High Valyrian. Uncle. You hoped the nickname would make him react. "Qybor," you repeated a little louder. "I can walk by myself now."

If the nickname had any effect on him, Aemond didn't show it. But you had no trouble imagining the stupefaction you would have read on his face had you been face to face with him. You were proud of your skills in High Valyrian: you learned faster than Jace, faster than Luke, but then again, you'd always loved books and history, languages and learning. Aemond would probably remember that, it was what brought you together as a child in the first place.

You could see the tall towers of the Red Keep in front of you, their red bricks standing out against the blue sky. From a distance, you could understand the fascination of the people. There was something great, something sumptuous about the sight of this building, and you understood why it had taken three reigns to build it. 

 But despite your pleas, Aemond had not moved an eye. You knew that if your uncle hadn't intervened, you would probably have ended up in a dark alley, or in a filthy brothel, used as a plaything by a bunch of drunken lords, or in the dirty hands of ill-intentioned men. The thought made a lump grow in your throat that you found hard to swallow. 

You were definitely naive and stupid for agreeing to follow Aegon like that. 

Still, you hadn't bothered to thank Aemond.

You had too much pride to thank him, a flaw you'd inherited from your family. 

You were stubborn, never satisfied, and always had something to say. 

But Aemond, it seemed, had as much - if not more - pride than you. 

Your engagement promised to be surprising.

"I am serious, Aemond," you added. It felt strange to call him by his first name when you hadn't addressed him that way for years. "I am a..." strong woman, you wanted to reply, but you chose another word instead, not wanting to give him the occasion to mock you: "independent woman".

As you approached the entrance - you prayed Aemond would choose one of the secret passages, you couldn't bear the humiliation of being carried off like a piece of merchandise by your presumed future husband - he stopped and set you down. His single eye searched your face, as if looking for the slightest trace of gratitude, but he knew he wouldn't find any; he knew it would have been too easy, and he knew it wouldn't have been you. 

You weren't easy. 

Pulling your arm to make you walk faster, Aemond forced you to follow him, around the ramparts, glancing around to make sure no one was following you. He pulled a little harder. "Mandianna," he began, his husky voice vibrating, the tone sending a wave of heat through your lower belly.

There was something incredibly pleasing about hearing the intonations of High Valyrian roll off your uncle's tongue. 

But that was Aemond. And it was out of the question for you to feel anything for Aemond.

Around the bend in the ramparts, out of sight, he slammed you against the wall, both hands pressed firmly against your shoulders to prevent you from fleeing. "What exactly did you think would happen when you went to Silk Street, tell me?"

You knew what he was thinking. That you were irresponsible. That your actions were unworthy of someone of your station, and even more so if you were to be his future betrothed. That he wondered if your time on Dragonstone had made you reckless and wild, that he wondered if he might need to teach you some manners before he could marry you.

His judging gaze swept you from head to toe. As if to say that though your father's legitimacy was often questioned, Aemond knew that you were indeed Rhaenyra's daughter. 

You avoided his gaze, your eyes fixed on a point beside his face. You wanted to say something witty, but the young prince had robbed you of any chance of intelligent thought, and you hated this feeling.

"I didn't think you'd come looking for me, Qybor," you replied with a grin as you looked up at him. "I thought you were a busy man."

You felt his fingers tighten on your shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of your cloak and tunic underneath. Your behaviour was childish, like a petulant brat, but secretly you enjoyed seeing Aemond lose his temper. You liked to push him to his limits. You liked to see the subtle signs of his irritation; the moment when he clenched his jaw, when he straightened his neck, when his breathing quickened.

If you were to marry him, then you would be poison, ready to corrupt his soul.

He grabbed the collar of your linen tunic and pushed you a little harder against the wall. "I thought you were smarter than to follow my brother into the city." His body rigid against yours kept you pinned to the wall.

The expression on his face betrayed his inner conflict: part of him thinking that he shouldn't care about his niece's actions, about you. Part of him reminding that you were soon to be betrothed. 

And you knew that the thought of other men putting their hands on you, on his bride's body was lighting a fire in the pit of his stomach. 

Jealousy. 

Possessiveness.

Aemond was a man driven by duty. On this level, you were the same; the model son and model daughter of your respective families, charged with performing your duties to prevent the gulf that separated your families from widening. 

Both the eternal seconds of your families. 

Both the pride of your mothers. 

Suddenly he released you. His hand found your wrist again and he pulled you through the corridors of the castle. Had anyone caught you now, your hood pulled down over your forehead, your clothes hiding your appearance, they would probably have frowned and wondered if Aemond had suddenly decided to follow in his brother's footsteps, his taste for debauchery, by bringing a common girl or a cheap prostitute into his chamber.

For at that moment, you did not look like the daughter of royal blood that you were, not with your simple linen clothes, not with the thick cloak that covered your body, not with your hair tied up carelessly. You looked like a servant girl, a smallfolk girl, not like the Pearl of Dragonstone that you truly were.

Aemond's fingers burned around your wrist. You wondered if he felt it, too. If you were causing the same effect in him.

But he was impassive, always so difficult to read. He hid his feelings, buried them under a cold, mysterious shell, as if to protect himself. 

He stopped in front of the door that led to your bedroom. Fortunately, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the courage to face your parents' disappointed looks, you didn't have the courage to realise that you had betrayed their trust, even if, for a moment, you had forgotten your duty, you had forgotten the responsibilities that weighed on your shoulders, you had tasted a feeling of freedom, so new, so delicious. A foolish act of transgression. 

But you were safe and sound, and that was the most important thing.

"You'd better get changed," Aemond suggested. "It would be better if my mother didn't see you like this."

He clenched his jaw. He looked concentrated, as if he wanted to add something, as if he wanted to reprimand you but had to force himself to remain silent. An instant of silence hung between you. The urge to ask him if he was going to report your little escapade burned on the tip of your tongue, but you thought better of it. 

Aemond's single eye was riveted to you. Piercingly. Fierce. 

For a brief moment, a very brief moment, your uncle's ragged breathing caressed your face and your heart raced. 

He was so close.

"Why? Don't you like to see me dressed like a common girl, my prince?" you asked, teasingly. Like a common girl you could bend over in some dark and gloomy street, you thought. But Aemond was not Aegon, and you felt him hesitate, as if the words had taken him by surprise. His hand, about to find your jaw and make you swallow your insolence, had stopped halfway.

You smirk. Aemond had nothing to worry about. For the official announcement of your betrothal, you had planned to wear a dress that would honour your Velaryon origins.

"Rest assured, qybor," you continued, taking a step in his direction. 

Poison in his soul, you repeated in your head. That's what you'd be to your uncle. You took the time observe him, as if studying him, as if imagining the effect the words you were about to say would have on your uncle. Your eyes sparkled with mischief, and perhaps with something else. "Your betrothed is still intact for her wedding night," you finally whispered in his ear.

He held his breath. You knew that you would break down, brick by brick, the barriers he'd spent years building around his heart. 

You wanted him raw. 

But before you turned on your heel to enter your chamber, you summoned all the courage you had left in your body and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on the prince's jaw. 

"Thank you for coming to my rescue, my prince."

And then, you were gone.

[shootingstarwritings]

Wrestling with Heartache

Part 1/2

Kyle McCarthy fell madly in love at a time most college students did—in the middle of a hellish studying session for a class he despised. “Gotta make sure we get everything right…” he muttered to himself after chugging another full cup of ice cold coffee.

“Keep it together, Kyle,” said the young man right next to him. Kyle scowled but nodded. He looked over and wondered how a man so clearly drowning in exhaustion could still appear so beautiful.

His name was Michael Hayworth, top of the lightweight division. Despite it being his first semester on the team, he went undefeated in every meet. 'No doubt due to his disarming eyes,' thought Kyle. Once more, he got lost in those hazel whirlpools--

“Uh, Kyle? You still awake, buddy?” Michael said, still smiling as he handed Kyle another mug of coffee. “Here, this one’s still hot. It’ll wake you up. Just a half hour more and we should get some sleep.”

“O-Oh… uh, th-thank you.”

The following semester, Kyle applied to be a student manager for the wrestling team. After a tough interviewing period with coach Klaus Reynolds; a burly, no-nonsense man; Kyle spent more of his time with Michael despite sharing far fewer classes.

“Glad to see you got the job,” said Michael after a particularly sweaty day of practice. Just about the whole team was winded and groaning. The heat and dry air made their sweaty singlets stick uncomfortably close to their tight and toned bodies. However, even with the feast for the eyes that lied before him, Kyle’s gaze was still drawn to Michael and his radiant smile. “You’re the reliable kind, Kyle. Know you’ll do great!”

‘You’re wonderful, Michael,’ thought Kyle as he gathered up the used singlets and towels that the team had used the day before. Michael was truly one of a kind, and that only drove Kyle to possess such a man as he. Of course, Michael didn’t show much interested in a lanky and awkward guy like Kyle. Based on the dating app profile Kyle had found, Michael enjoyed bigger and heftier men.

‘Standing by Michael’s side,’ Kyle thought to himself, ‘would simply have to do.’

And it did… for a time. With each passing session, Kyle’s adoration and infatuation grew and grew. And with such a burning love came a frigid envy. The camaraderie that the wrestling team had with each other was something that Kyle was thankful for, but also deeply territorial towards. Each passing glance, loving touch, and accidental caress ignited heart pound with vitriolic and violent passion.

“Passion is a flame. It can provide or engulf,” Kyle’s roommate, a man at least a decade his senior, said. Though his hands were busy with the night’s meal, his ears were always free for friends. Armed with the patience of a monk and the shaggy hair of a hippie, Namba was a university student who applied late into the education system and studied to become a therapist. His enormous hair, rare for a man of his lineage, hid his eyes and gave him a unique appeared. Those that spoke with him often revealed far more than they intended, for they were able to speak to Namba without any judging eyes to put them on edge.

At least, that was Kyle’s hypothesis. For him, the lack of eye-contact with Namba made it easy for him to speak his mind. Long and awkward discussions about sexuality, lust, and just dirty talk were easy with the nonchalant Namba, who lived with a laissez-faire attitude.

“Please, continue,” said Namba, gesturing to Kyle. “I am curious to learn about your heartaches,” he continued without a hint of sarcasm.

“Wish I was a bit more like the other wrestling team members,” said Kyle as he washed the leftover dishes and arranged the utensils. Managing the equipment of the team was easy with a multi-tasking mind like his. He often joked that his hands had their own brains, but all three of them disagreed too much to make him a genius.

“So your wish is to be someone else?” said Namba as he set down a large pot of… something on the small kitchen table. Whatever it was, it smelled good.

“Hmm, I suppose. Michael’s so close to other members—especially guys like Nicholas or Zack. Oh man, now that guy." Kyle was about to go on a rant on the stoic man, but Namba warned him about tangents.

"Right, right," said Kyle, getting back on topic. "When me and the other team members talk, it’s nice. We get along fine. But it reeks of platonic interactions. Meanwhile, it always feels like the team members’ touching and groping each other, even when they play it off like jokes, last a little too much time.”

“Perhaps your passion is clouding your judgment? Or do you think it’s focusing your sight on the true enemy?”

“Calling them ‘enemies’ is a bit much… ‘Rivals’ is a bit more appropriate. We still get along.” Aside from the icy Zack and perhaps the stern and stoic coach Reynolds, Kyle could not recall any particularly bad interactions with the other team members. They thanked Kyle for doing work and approached him with friendly attitudes. It wasn’t bad at all, but somehow still disappointingly saccharine. Kyle wasn’t friends with any of the wrestling team members; they were merely coworkers. He could shoot the breeze, but not his shot. “If they were my enemies while I did their laundry and managed their stuff, then…”

“You’d be like those Victorian era heroines who secretly plotted the death of her lord while starching his clothes.”

“...A morbid comparison, but yes.”

“Well, my dear bed companion—“

“Please just use ‘roommate’ or ‘friend.’”

“—I have the solution to all our problems. Please, dine with me. A full stomach will calm your nerves.” Kyle shrugged and ate quickly. Eating from stress wasn’t anything new for him. He had gained a few pounds after entering university, and sadly most of it was not from muscle despite his semi-frequent visits to the gym.

“Dunno if I can have a ‘solution’ to this problem. Maybe I can work out some more,” said Kyle. He flexed a thin arm, grimacing as he saw the lack of real muscle. It had become far less flabby, but his genes and metabolism really let him down. At most, he could probably develop the body of a twunk if he went five days a week.

“That would be the preferred way, but younglings like you aren’t the type to wait around—and neither am I. It’s why I created this concoction.” Grinning, Namba gestured for Kyle to follow. The two left their dishes in the sink and made their way towards their next door neighbors. Often populated by a pair of twins and a friend, it seemed like the only one home at the time was Tim McDonald.

He was about Michael’s age, but had the personality of a man twice that. His round eyes comfortably slotted into a sour scowl or sneer. The trend continued as he answered the door to Namba’s loud and obnoxious knocking. “What?” he said, eyes narrowed as they peered back and forth between Michael and Namba.

Michael had never seen Tim crack a smile all semester. Most of the time, Tim shot one or two word responses and preferred to mind his own business. From what Michael had gathered, Tim was a business major with major ADHD. He wasn’t flunking, but it was clear that the time spent keeping his head above the academic waters soured his personality.

“Do you mind if we borrow some sugar?” asked Namba. “We have guests over and I forgot to purchase some more. My nan refuses to drink her tea without at least three sugar cubes’ worth.” Tim rolled his eyes, muttered something about old men, and slipped inside to look. While Tim’s back was turned, Namba stepped inside and snuck up behind him.

“Wha—“ Kyle began to say before Namba turned around and placed a finger over his lips before winking. He then bent his knees and jumped onto Tim.

Instead of an impact, Namba’s lithe yet hairy body sunk into Tim’s huskier frame. Tim let out a choked cry, back arching as a whole man slipped inside of him. He grabbed onto the kitchen counter, body convulsing as a few changes began to appear. His short, blond hair turned a shade darker and a big shaggier. Bangs that were usually combed back grew and covered his eyes much like Namba’s.

After a few moments of struggling, Tim let out a large, relaxed sigh. “Mmm, worked like a charm.” Spinning on the ball of his foot, Tim grinned and pointed at himself. “And that’s exactly the kind of gift you can do now, kiddo.”

“I… wha…?”

“It’s me, Namba!” he said. He slipped off Tim's shift and began to pose. "Mmm... this youthful body feels so much easier to move in that my own!"

After a bit of panic and a few questions, Namba detailed his plan to Kyle.

~o~

Three days. That was how long the concoction would remain in both of their systems. After that, they would need to prepare new broth. “Is this not what you wanted? To grow close to that man? Well, for a while at least, you can.” The effect of the concoction would allow one to ‘merge’ their soul with another body for a limit of 72 hours. No more. “It’s a small reprieve, but I believe you deserve it after such hard work. Perhaps it’ll even give you clues as to how to naturally grow closer to Michael with your own charm. Charm that you do possess, despite your protests.”

“But,” Kyle had asked, “What do you get out of it? You said this would solve a problem you had as well.”

“Ah, you see… I have little money to spare, and I ended getting a bit too invested at the slots and borrow some money from friends, so…”

“You’re worse than the freshmen.” Kyle had told him.

‘Becoming someone else,’ thought Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room. It was another Friday night, and he had been unable to decide on what to do with the gift Namba had granted. ‘Michael…? No. The coach? Maybe…?’

All Kyle wanted was to be close to Michael, if only for a day. Taking over one of the other wrestlers was the way to do so, but finding and isolating one of them would be the hard part.

However, luck would soon turn for Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room, the singlets and jockstraps of the team in tow. In the room, wearing only a pair of white briefs and little else, was a member of the wrestling team. Zackary Kuvaev. Tall, imposing, and often wearing a scowl on his stone-like face. When Kyle into the room, Zackary merely grunted in acknowledgement while glaring down at one of the laundry machines.

“Um, hello, Zack. Uh… run out of clothes…?”

“Roommates. Prank. Last clothes stained.” Only rarely did Zack’s voice and face betray much emotion. The only time that occurred was often when Michael wrapped an arm around the stoic Zack’s shoulders and…

Michael…

Zack continued to glare at the machine, not paying the slightest bit of attention towards Kyle. ‘He’ll regret that.‘ Kyle held no real malice towards Zack, but the envy and territorial rush of emotions in his chest overruled any sense of guilt he might’ve had.

Hesitation thrown to the wind, Kyle broke into a sprint and dived into Zack’s back. The older wrestler let out a startled gasp as another man suddenly fought him for dominance over his own body. No words were spoken, only shouts and groans as Zack collapsed onto his knees, clutching and clawing at his chest. “AHH…! Ahh…! AAAHHH!” Small patches began to sprout throughout his formerly smooth body, particularly around the arms, chest, legs, and armpits. His sharp and stoic face turned the slightest bit softer and rounder. Hawk-like eyes began kinder and his scowl became a look of pure wonder.

“It really did work…” muttered Kyle as he looked down at his beefy arms and masculine hands. The difference truly should’ve been just a few pounds of muscle, but the sheer energy and strength that coursed through his body was borderline euphoric. “Oh wow!” Kyle stood up on his toes and marveled at how graceful the movement felt. He paraded around the room, admiring each swing of his arms and his powerful gaits. Never Kyle’s life did he believe that his glutes could be so powerful.

 “Everytime he touches me, I feel electricity course my body. He’s wonderful. He’s divine. And I will make him mine.” Plunging smooth yet muscular arm into the laundry hamper, Kyle dug around until he found the singlet labeled Michael. With a madman’s grin, Kyle forced Zack to say, “Until then, I’ll have to satisfy myself with just this.”

It was a few size too small, but Kyle appreciated the singlet squeezing into his well-built body. He flexed and let out an involuntary moan. Zack’s cock, freely leaking, stained Michael’s singlet even further. “It smells just like him,” said Kyle. He squeezed and rubbed against the rubbery fabric, muttering Michael’s name the whole time. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Your scent, your smile, your slightly crooked grin, the kind way you speak, the way you move… oh…!” Just the thought of approaching Michael in such a performance drove Kyle’s mind to the peak of insanity. And also forcing Zack to do it all? Acting as a cum dumpster for the two of them? “OH…! Nnngh…. AAAARRRRGHHH!”

Kyle let out a guttural groan using Zack’s voice as his cock pumped load after load into Michael’s used singlet. Kyle could’ve sworn he saw white as the torrents of cum burst from Zack’s abused dick. His knees, already sweating and wobbly, gave out on him as he collapsed onto a messy, white-stained pile. His fingers, toes, and thighs continued to twitch as he rode the last of the climax. “Haahh...Haaaahhh…!”

Once Zack’s breathing was under control, Kyle stood back up and stretched. “That was… amazing…!” Kyle flexed Zack’s muscular arm again, still surprised at his control over him. “All right, let’s get this done!” He said, wearing a grin that Zack would never be caught dead showing off.

While nowhere near as intense as the masturbation, using another body while getting errands done felt erotic as well. Kyle bounced through the room, enjoying the way his body would gently sway with each movement.

Not too long after he finished doing the laundry, he received a response from Michael. “Finished chilling with some friends at the rec center. Just relaxing in my room rn. U?”

Cock already erect, Kyle told Michael that he was free to hang out. It took a few minutes, but Michael replied with a, “Sure! :D”

“Fuck yes!” Kyle cried out, pumping his fist high into the air as soon as he saw the message. He rushed through the campus, running full-sprint with Zack’s powerful legs as he made his way to Zack’s room to drop off the remain clothes.

Once he arrived, he quickly dressed Zack’s body in clothes more suited for the night air, but he also made sure to wear a jock-strap underneath. From what Kyle could gleam from Zack’s memory, he knew that Zack and Michael had fooled around on more than one occasion.

There was a streak of envy that rushed through Kyle’s heart, but he quickly reasoned that his ability would mean that Michael could belong to him.

Him and only him…

“Hey, nice to see ya,” said Michael. He wore a loose wifebeater and a pair of shorts that seemed so easy to tear off. Kyle put on a restrained smile and nodded. “Well, c’mon in! I swear, you act like such a robot sometimes,” Michael said as he pulled Zack inside, chuckling the whole time. Kyle could’ve sworn he had the smile of a cherub as he spoke. On and on, they chatted while sitting around in Michael’s empty apartment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but…

Just being by Michael’s side, somehow for that night it satiated Kyle. They spent the night together playing video games, drinking some cheap beer Michael had in his fridge, and enjoying some bad Adult Swim shows. Throughout the night, Kyle intended to make moves on Michael and make him his own. And yet, some part of him was unable to commit. Even as the clock grew closer to 2:00 in the morning, Kyle was hardly able to do more than a simple flirt.

‘This isn’t how I figured it would go,’ Kyle thought to himself while Michael used the bathroom. His fantasies of pining Michael to the wall with Zack’s impressive physique evaporated into little more than idle dreams. Every time he would even think about making a move, some part of him withdrew. Was a fear of showing affection? Was Zack’s body doing something to him? And yet, when he stared into Michael’s charming smiles or soft chuckles, Kyle felt his heart flutter once more.

Then why? More than anything, Kyle wanted to love Michael, but…

“Hmm? Anyone I’m interested in?” Michael echoed. Just before the night wrapped up, Kyle, hoping that his desperation wasn’t quite so obvious, asked Michael once he left the restroom. A few beers went a long way to loosen the tongue. Kyle himself was fully well aware of that.

“Um… well, I kinda prefer older men,” began Michael. Grinning, he said, “Someone like Coach Reynolds, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though!” he chuckled like a schoolgirl gossiping about her friends. “He’s really hot. Someone like him—oh man, a thick and tough man like him is the best.”

‘Ah, so that was it.’

“How come you’re suddenly so interested?”

“No reason. Good luck on your love conquests., friend”

Michael chuckled again before turning over and lying down on the couch. “Good luck to you too…” he said. The sleepiness was audible in his voice. So he was that type of drinker. Kyle could feel his chest grow heavy as he felt a sudden urge to protect him. With just a bit of alcohol, anyone could take advantage of poor Michael. He really needed to remain straight and make sure that nobody laid a finger on his friend.

Kyle shook his head. Where had those thoughts come from? It was as if someone had turned a valve and allowed a flood of emotions and memories to fill Zack’s head. Were these… Zack’s inner thoughts? It made a certain amount of sense. Somehow, the thoughts didn’t “sound” like Kyle’s inner narrator—whatever that meant. He couldn’t explain, but it was a distinction that he could make.

“You’re too defenseless,” said Kyle. With slight hesitation, he placed a hand on Michael’s bare arm, and lightly rubbed it. It was only a slight touch, something that Zack had most likely experience many times over, but it was enough. Just for tonight, it was enough for Kyle.

“Your love. I hope it comes true.” Since starting university, Kyle had wished for someone to utter those words for him. At the very least, he could pretend that it was truly Zack giving his support.

“It’s… It’s not going… anywhere…” muttered Michael. Soon after, his gentle snoring felt heavy on Kyle’s borrowed ears.

‘Don’t be sure about that, Michael.’