#like kind of pointy nose and the fucked up hair

[canidaedreams64]

ngl im kinda considering reading mha but only for present mic and the hashtag yuri

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.

Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…

And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…

He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.

But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show. 

Astarion swallows. 

Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less. 

Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child? 

“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie. 

To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Yes, perfectly hideous. 

Astarion only hums in a way of reply.

That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.

“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.

Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?

He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?

Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him. 

Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!

Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.

All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be. 

“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”

Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.

Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief. 

And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!

Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms. 

She is perfect, after all. 

Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back. 

For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.

“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter. 

Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”

“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”

“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.  

Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.

“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”

A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.

“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Steve sits with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

In the passenger seat, Robin’s doing her make up.

“What are we doing here, Rob?”

“You mean like, in the cosmic soul searching sense, or here specifically?”

“Here. Specifically.”

“Well, your beautiful brunette boyfriend-”

“You don’t score points for alliteration. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“All right then, the man who is under the distinct impression that he’s your boyfriend, suggested we all hang out together. So we are here. At the place I suggested.”

“Because you know I hate it here.”

Robin makes a non committal noise, Steve looks, she’s pulling the horrendous mascara face. He goes back to resting his forehead on the steering wheel.

Steve does hate it here. Reminds him of...fucking work brunches with his father and Sunday lunches with his mother and he just. Hates it.

Steve sighs like a Victorian maid who’s betrothed has not yet returned from sea. He’s certain he’ll die from consumption at any minute.

“Shut up you big baby,” Robin tells him as she fluffs her hair, “all I want is to finger bang this chick in the bathroom and then rub my cunt on her face, is that too much to ask?”

And Robin has been wholly supportive of Steve so far, so, “no, I suppose-what the fuck Robin? Did you choose this place because-”

“I like the bathrooms-”

“-the bathrooms are nice-”

“What?-”

“Oh you fucking-”

“They’re romantic kinda’.”

“They’re bathrooms, Robin!”

“The lighting is good. I like the vibe.”

“Oh my god.”

Steve’s stares mournfully after his best friend. She’s at the bar with Chrissy, because Chrissy wanted to watch the guy make their cocktails, look he does tricks with the thing, like in that old movie with Tom Cruise.

Steve could physically feel himself ageing as she spoke.

“It’s so cool they’re dating.” Steve does not point out that whatever Robin's about to do to Chrissy, it will be a four letter word, but that four letter word is not ‘date’.

“You think?”

Eddie smiles big. The dimples come out. Huge happy brown fucking cow eyes. He’s not attractive Steve reminds himself viciously. He’s playing with his cutlery because he can’t sit still and...his chins too pointy. Or something. “Well yeah. It’d be so cool if they get married.”

Steve nearly chokes on his drink.

“Hey man, you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Steve’s nose is burning from the bubbles going up there, “what makes you think they’ll get married?”

“Well...why would you date someone if you can’t see it going somewhere?” Steve hopes this is going somewhere; like to a bed, specifically, “so there’s a chance, right? I can tell Chris really likes her. I hope it’s like, a long term thing.”

Steve feels himself slow blink. He doesn’t explain to Eddie that you date someone because you want to stick your penis in them. Eddie turns to watch the girls again, they laugh, and Eddie grins at them, all happy and fond.

Steve sighs.

“You okay?”

“Sorry?”

“You just...you don’t seem so happy to be here man. Kind of tense.”

Steve has no idea how Eddie even noticed, usually people don’t notice. Or usually people don’t care, but it amounts to the same thing because coming to somewhere like this is just the step you take before you step into a bedroom.

“I...I actually don’t really like it here much.”

Eddie looks at him, leans close. He’s ready to really listen. He...cares. About Steve. Steve wonders if he’s going to come up in a rash; it feels like the sort of thing he should be allergic too. He wonders vaguely if there’s antihistamines in the glove box.

“Why?”

“Well...I.” Steve pulls a face. He doesn’t talk about...meaningful things, but he figures it can’t hurt this once, he can be vague. Especially if it increases the chance of doing the no pants dance with Eddie, “I don’t have the best relationship with my parents. I mean, they’re good parents, I had really good nannies growing up, had a great education, the best boarding school, they funded my degree, gave me a solid start at work, so they are great...we just don’t exactly get on all the time. We used to come here for pretty much every family meal.”

Eddie’s frown deepens the more Steve talks, “how often were the...family meals?”

“I don’t know,” Steve hums, “holidays I guess, when I was away, and then...maybe fortnightly? We don’t do it now, obviously.”

“Oh. Me and uncle Wayne had one meal a day together, at least, when I lived there. It was like, a house rule.”

“Oh that’s...you’re close?” To Steve that already sounds like something out of the fucking Brady Bunch.

“Yeah. Speaking of which, he’s invited you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” Steve asks weakly.

“Yeah, since you’re courting that boy, he said.” Eddie puts his hands up to do the air quotes. And then he grins. That big stupid grin. He looks so happy. So genuinely happy to see Steve. So happy about the prospect of just...seeing him again.

Steve does not point out that a blow job at a garden party, humping each other in a public bathroom, and one co ed BBQ does not courting make.

“Right.”

“Awesome, I’ll let you know when,” Eddie drums two forks on the edge of the table. Steve stares at his bony wrists. His mind suggests phrases like, ‘slender’ and ‘delicate’ and Steve ignores those and thinks about how he could very easily hold both of those wrists in one hand. “listen, do you want to get out of here?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, the girls won’t care,” and he’s probably right there, “and you don’t like it here, and I don’t care where I am as long as it’s with you.”

Steve riffles through his internal Rolodex and comes up blank; no one has ever said anything that sincere to him in his life. And Eddie means it too; he means everything he says in a completely unguarded way Steve has literally never encountered before. It’s like meeting an alien. Steve wants to put him under a microscope.

“I just want you to have a nice time, you know. I want you to be happy.”

Eddie reaches out and takes Steve’s hand.

Steve lets him.

Part Six

[vixstarria]

The morning after

I felt like doing a little follow-up to the love confession fic and writing a bit of silly camp banter.

The party join forces in poking fun at Astarion.

All origin characters, Tav, humour, banter, comfort, non-explicit, no spoilers

Approximately 700 words

AO3

You left Astarion’s tent. He stayed behind to fix his hair – his bedhead was truly a sight to behold, but it was a sight reserved for your eyes only. 

You were almost surprised to see that the world just went on as normal. The magic of the night began to dissipate as you had to turn your attention to the mundane. If only you could stop time... Encapsulate the memory and all the feelings that came with it, and keep returning to it, over and over.  

“There she is!!” came a cheerful shout from Karlach, as you approached the group, already busy around the campfire before you broke for the day. You sat down next to her, on the edge of a log, as she pressed a bowl of some kind of porridge concocted by Gale into your hands. 

“Hells, did Astarion keep you up all night? You look like shit.” She took a closer look at you. “Smug, happy shit,” she continued. “What were you up to in there? Wait, NO, don’t answer that!” 

“Don’t be so envious, darling,” drawled Astarion as he emerged, sitting down to her other side, fiddling with a damaged piece of equipment he’d neglected to repair the day before.  

“Envious?! Please, what would I even do with you, I’d break you in half.” 

Karlach grabbed and held Astarion in a bear hug, just about pulling him into her lap. 

“But you - you’re always hanging around Mama K, like a cat looking for the warmest spot.” 

Anyone else would have lost an arm for such familiarity, but Karlach seemed to have special permission. You weren’t sure whether it was because Astarion sympathised with her not having been able to touch anyone for years, or if it really was as simple as him enjoying the heat radiating from her. You suspected it was both. He’d never admit it, so you’ve never asked.  

“Release me at once, you foul beast!” 

“Say the magic word, fangs!” 

Astarion looked at you and mouthed “Help”. 

“You’ll be fine, love, she’ll get bored and let go eventually,” you ruffled his hair and returned to your porridge. The word “love” tasted different on your tongue to all the other times you’d thrown it around casually, and you smiled to yourself, as though at a private joke no one else was in on. 

“You know, Astarion really is a cat. Always striving to be the centre of attention, then being offended when he actually gets it,” pondered Wyll.  

“I’ve seen him get the zoomies in the middle of the night after returning from a hunt,” added Shadowheart. 

“Licking blood off his hands after a fight is definitely a feline gesture.” Even Lae’zel was taking part in antagonising him today. 

“He’s knocked over my drink for no reason passing by before,” offered Wyll.  

“He bites,” added Lae’zel. 

“And he does play with his prey before killing it,” mused Shadowheart. “And before I get stabbed – I'm not talking about you, Tav.” 

“And he’s just SO. DAMN. CUTE. Look at his pointy ears! Aaaahhhh!” squealed Karlach.  

Astarion continued to struggle in Karlach’s grip, kicking at the air, somehow winding up basically lying in her lap, sideways, as the group giggled amongst themselves.  

“Well I’ve had cats and even a tressym my whole life, and speaking from the height of my lifelong experience, the real defining question is this,” said Gale, sitting down with his own bowl. “When he’s hungry in the morning, does he wake you by tapping on your nose, and then turn around and show you his butthole?” 

“Ugh.” 

“Gale!” 

“What the actual fuck, Gale?” 

“AHAHAHA!” 

"Still as suicidal as ever, I see,” you commented, your shoulders shaking, as Astarion finally managed to slide out of Karlach’s hold, collapsing onto the ground, as she roared.  

“You better watch what comes out of your mouth, magician, you’re already on thin ice,” said Astarion. The threat lost its edge due to Astarion’s disheveled look and the fact that he too couldn't keep his face straight. “Now if you’ll excuse me...” He got up and walked away, dusting himself off. 

“The dignity, the grace, the sense of balance...” continued Wyll.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Intimacy

Series master list

AO3

[whateverloomis]

Hi! Can you write about a reader who is a traditional goth x billy and stu?

Shes the new girl at school and she seems cool so tate invites her over to the group and when they see her they are like: 😲😍

Ugh, I'm so glad you requested this. Billy and Stu would so be into alt. people, I just know it. (Totally not saying that because I'm alt. myself *cough*)

Note: Scroll to the bottom for extra content before reading 🖤

Warnings: SMUT, infidelity, making out, fingering, double penetration, outdoor s3x, smoking (weed,) AFAB reader (she/her,) use of YN, unedited

Word count: 2.5k (Got carried away lmao)

"Dude, what's Tatum doing with the goth chick?" Stu asked Billy, as if he had a clue who Tatum even hung out with anymore. Sidney had always been her best friend and Tatum wouldn't ever replace her, but she was always picking someone new to introduce to the group until some kind of drama happened and she unfriended them.

"Fuck should I know." Billy answered, trying to seem uninterested in the topic, but Stu knew better. He had caught his friend taking a peek or two at the new girl when she had arrived the week prior as a transfer student.

"She's hot as fuck man, I bet we could tag team her-" -- "Keep it down, would you?" Billy whispered, elbowing Stu to avoid Sid and Randy from listening.

The boys had done it a few times before. They picked someone they both liked and had a little fun with them, and this new girl was definitely first in line the moment they saw her.

Tatum approached the group with her new friend and the boys couldn't help but eye her from head to toe. She was wearing a black crop top that sat just below her tits, a leather skirt with detailed lace thigh highs, paired with pointy knee high black boots. Her jet black hair sat just above her shoulders, her baby bangs had a perfect little point in the middle creating a perfect triangle that aligned with her pierced nose and matte black lipstick. What a sight.

"Hi guys! Meet our new friend, YN!" Tatum cheered and YN waved at everyone and smiled, revealing a dimple on her left cheek. Fuck, that drove Billy and Stu crazy. She was so effortlessly cute yet mysterious and intense looking. The perfect combination.

The group welcomed YN and clicked with her right away. Randy didn't hesitate to make flirty comments at the new girl and she was a natural flirt just like him, so it became a casual back and forth game between them. Stu obviously joined in, he's usually a flirt with everyone so it didn't seem out of the ordinary, but oh boy, if they only knew the plans he had with the girl.

Billy however, remained in the small talk zone. He felt safe there, plus he didn't want to reveal his intentions to Sidney who was sitting between his legs at the moment. He did make eye contact with YN from time to time and couldn't help but get tense at her gaze. Her eyes were piercing, like a black cats would be at night and it was driving him mad. He wanted to look into them while being on top of her... or maybe YN on top of him would be much better... Gosh, if he kept his imagination running it was gonna be impossible to stop his half boner from getting rock solid.

"YN should join, we have lot's of fun up there when we escape this hell hole." Stu said, snapping Billy out of his thoughts. "The cabin?" The boy thought out loud and Sidney turned around to face him. "Yeah, Stu is planning to ditch last period on Friday again and going up to his dads cabin. We're inviting YN to come along with us." Sid explained and Billy smirked in response and gave Stu a knowing look. "Yeah... Yeah YN, you should join us. Who wants to attend English class anyways?" He replied and Stu patted his back, "That's what I'm talking about." his best friend said, earning an annoyed look from Billy.

"Bring a swim suit too new girl, there's a kick ass lake up there." Stu said and smirked. "Awesome! I love lakes and it's been a while." YN replied and Randy pitched in; "Or better yet, a bikini." he said and the girl smirked at him; "Yeah, I bet you'd like that." YN said and Randy gasped in fake surprise; "I never said such a thing." The boy replied and YN gave him a flirty laugh.

Stu seemed amused with their exchange, knowing damn well Randy is all talk and no show. Meanwhile Billy was annoyed and poking his left cheek with his tongue in attempt to keep himself from saying anything stupid that could reveal his excitement about the new girl joining.

•

Friday came along quicker that expected and the group was already on their way to their little weekend trip. They were all bunched up in Stu's family van. His parents were conveniently out of town so he "borrowed it" for the weekend.

YN ended up sitting next to Billy after everyone argued about who would sit where and the boy was trying his hardest not to get his hands on her. "You comfortable?" Billy asked loud enough for her to hear as she closed the door. "Never better." She replied while she leaned back on the seat. Her exposed thigh brushed against his and she felt the boy tense up. She bit her lip in amusement and looked at him, smirking before looking out the window. Oh boy... new girl knew exactly what she was doing and it didn't go unnoticed by Billy or Stu who was looking at them through the rear view mirror.

•

"Why does it have to be me again?!" Randy complained. The group wanted him to test the water to see how cold it was but all he did was stand on the edge of the little wooden walkway and whine about how cold it was last time.

"Oh c'mon, it can't be that bad." YN said while taking her short black dress off. She had a bikini on that sat a little bit above her tits, exposing the perfect amount of under boob along with cheeky bottoms that barely covered her ass. The girls started to cheer and whistle at her in encouragement; "Yes girlie! You look hot as fuck!" Tatum said and Sidney agreed with her, taking her own clothes off and revealing a bright red colored bikini. Tatum had a yellow one on that exposed just as much under boob as the new girl's did, maybe a bit more. The boys stood there looking at them like hungry dogs before they cheered them on. Billy however just sported a smirk and followed the girls with his eyes taking an extra peek at YN's tits bouncing while she ran and jumped into the lake.

"It's not that cold guys, c'mon!" Sidney encouraged and Randy jumped in without hesitating.

"You gonna be able to keep it in your pants big boy?" Stu said loud enough for Billy to hear. "Shut up asshole, speak for yourself." He responded and looked at Stu's crotch before jumping in. Stu looked at his trunks and noticed his hard on was visible and jumped in quickly before muttering "Fuck."

•

The day was filled with fun, laughs and picking on Randy. It was unlike any other cabin weekend thanks to the new girl. She was cute, funny, a flirt and totally into Billy and Stu. At least that's what the boys were convincing themselves of with every little word and look she gave them. She was hard to read, Billy found, but that made it all the more fun for him.

The group were now sitting around a fire pit, talking about previous school crushes and other adventures. "So, who was your first kiss?" Tatum asked YN as she took a drag from the blunt they were passing around.

"It wasn't a big deal. We were best friends back in middle school, she was a pretty good kisser though." YN replied, taking a quick drag and passing it to Sidney who politely declined.

"Wait, she?!" Randy questioned in shock, choking on his beer along the way.

YN laughed at his exaggerated reaction and bit her lip; "Yes she, I'm bisexual, idiot." She replied while rolling her eyes playfully.

"Hot! I dare you to kiss Tatum!" Stu said rather loudly, earning a smack on his shoulder from his girlfriend. "Don't be an asshole, Stu!"

"What?! I was joking!" -- "No you weren't. Typical." YN replied and smirked at him knowingly. It's not the first time YN has heard those comments. At this point she calls the person out and brushes it off. That being said, she wouldn't mind kissing Tate at all, she's hot too just like her boyfriend.

Everyone laughed at Stu being called out, then continued talking, smoking weed and drinking alcohol around the fire. YN hadn't had this much fun in a long time and she intended on making the best out of that weekend.

•

After what seemed like hours of conversation, Billy, Stu, Tatum and YN were high as kites, Randy and Sid were drunk, and half of the group was nearly to the point of passing out and falling asleep for at least 12 hours that night. However, YN had other plans.

"I'm gonna go take a walk." She said, and Tatum gasped in surprise; "Alone in the woods, YN? Are you crazy! You can get killed!" the girl practically screamed and the new girl laughed; "It's okay babe, i'll be fine. Maybe I do wanna encounter a slasher, who knows..." She joked and stood up.

"YN, maybe you should take someone with you. It's seriously not safe, especially with the ghost face killings." Sidney said.

Billy and Stu looked at each other knowingly before anyone else spoke.

"I'll go with you. I need a breather myself." Billy said and smirked at Stu subtly before walking away with YN.

•

"So, you're actually not freaked about the possibility of you getting killed by ghost face?" Billy asked YN and she laughed before responding; "Not really, he clearly has targets and I highly doubt I'm one of them. Besides, I'd probably wanna fuck him instead of being scared."

Billy was amused at her response. If only she knew. "Is that so? You have a thing for slashers then?" He asked and she chuckled, a flirty tone to her voice. "Maybe, do you?" She asked him jokingly. "Nah, I'd say I have a thing for victims." At his answer YN slowed down her pace. His answer didn't exactly scare her but it did take her by surprise.

Billy turned around to face her as they both stopped walking. "What?" He asked, a slight seriousness coating his voice. YN looked down and bit her lip before looking him in the eye for God knows the number of times that day.

"Are you hinting at something, Loomis?" She asked him and the boy took a few steps forward leaving a few inches away between them. "Did it sound like I am? Or do you want me to be hinting at something?" He responded. Smooth.

YN looked up at him and chuckled, not knowing what to say at that point. She was too high to think about any coherent answer, especially with a guy that hot in front of her who was clearly looking to get freaky in the middle of the woods.

"Maybe..." Billy started, placing his left hand on YN's hip; "...I'm hinting at something like this." He spoke his final words before kissing YN slowly. They made out at the slowest most intense way you could imagine. Their tongues danced with each other and YN exhaled little whimpers into his mouth. He loved her little noises and couldn't help but grab both her hips and squeeze the flesh. As they continued kissing, Billy moved his hands to her ass and squeezed it before running his hands up her body and squeezing her tits that were threatening to pop out of her bikini top.

Billy took a few steps forward and pushed YN against a tree trunk, pressing himself against her while deepening the kiss. The girl sneaked her hand down his lower body and gave his throbbing dick a firm squeeze, moaning at the feeling.

YN didn't really care that he had a girl, if anything she would've done the same with her if given the chance, plus she was too high to make sense of anything so she just went with it.

YN pulled the string at the front of Billy's black swimsuit and kneeled in front of him but before she could pull his dick out they both heard the crunching of foot steps, and the girl stood up quickly.

"Well fuck, you guys started without me?" Stu said and appeared from behind the large tree she was against. "Thank's for ruining the mood, asshole" Billy said sarcastically, not even bothering to tie his pants back in place.

"Oh c'mon Billy, aren't you gonna share your meal?" -- "I sure wouldn't mind that." YN followed Stu's words and chuckled at herself. She was so high that this whole situation seemed more amusing than it would've been if she had been sober.

Billy looked at her in mild surprise and smirked, raising an eyebrow before kissing her again. Stu walked towards them and moved YN forward, Billy pulling her forward as well to allow Stu to lean against the tree, her ass pressed against his hard cock. They moved swiftly, as if they had done this countless times before... And they have.

Stu wrapped his arms around YN and pulled her bikini top down, exposing her perfect tits to Billy who started to play with her nipples while deepening the kiss. Stu sneaked his hand up her black skirt and untied her bikini bottoms, letting it fall between her legs. The boy didn't waste anymore time and started to rub YN's clit expertly. She let out hushed moans into Billy's mouth while reaching between her legs, moving Stu's fingers towards her entrance and he knew exactly what she wanted. As if on command he finger fucked her all while Billy was pinching her nipples and kissing her neck.

YN was so impossibly aroused, mostly because of the weed, but having these two hot idiots touching her like this made her feel as if she were in heaven.

"Mm, fuck me... Both of you." She said and the boys quickly stopped their movements and pulled their pants down just enough to release their dicks. YN wrapped her legs around Billy and he picked her up pushing her against Stu in order for them to line up their cocks to her cunt. She was so soaking wet they both slipped in easily. The stretch felt so delicious that she couldn't contain her moans.

Billy and Stu pounded into her like wild animals, breathing heavy and grabbing her steady.

"Fuck... You feel so good..." Billy whispered and YN wasn't sure if he meant her or Stu rubbing his cock against his friends. Either way it was hot as fuck and YN was going to cum any second. The boys were close behind, thrusting out of unison, moaning and groaning. It was music to YN's ears.

"I'm close... Fuck, I'm so close..." The girl moaned as she squeezed around both of their dicks. Billy and Stu couldn't say anything at that point up until they all came at the same time.

They filled YN up so much that their combined juices dripped on the ground.

Once they all caught their breath's, Billy placed YN down on her feet and stabled her. The girl nearly fell from how hard the two fucked her.

"Damn, did we really fucked you that good new girl?" Stu said from behind her.

"Oh, shut up." She answered before getting dressed along with the boys and returning to the cabin as if nothing had happened.

-

Extra detail for fun: I found this pic scrolling through Tumblr last night and it's exactly how I imagine readers'hair! 🖤

(Picture not mine. If anyone knows the owner lmk so I can credit. Thank you!)

[carolmunson]

you be the spoon, dip you in honey (older!modern!eddie)

part three of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list we finally make it to our real date at the park. dj finally doesn't have us falling in love again at trader joe's. let's do it for real this time. :) inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is youtw: age gappy (reader is late 20s, eddie is late thirties), brief mention of suicide, discussion about columbine, eddie puts clothing over reader's shoulders, eddie talks briefly about family trauma.

“So do you dye all your black clothes to the same depth or do you have a really good eye for color?” you ask. He peers up at you from his book, hair tied up in what looks like a pen – his grays catch the light, so does the wire on the glasses perched on his nose. His lips spread into a grin, tip of his tongue sliding over the tip of his pointy canine, “You look pretty.” 

songspiration: daylight | harry styles

He lied – it is swampy and it’s hot hot. It’s Uber to the park hot. It’s ‘can’t stand in the boiling subway’ hot. It’s thigh chafing hot. It’s ‘Why did I make a fucking icebox cake for this picnic date in the park?’ hot. You dressed as cute as you could for this weather, too sweaty for a skirt or dress, too hot to need to worry about how you’re sitting. Your cropped peasant top flutters at the sleeves when an unforgiving breeze of hot air blows past at the entrance to the park. You feel beads of sweat drip down your back and pray it doesn’t leave a mark on the gauzy cream material of your shirt. Your sandals crunch through the grass, following the pin he dropped when you told him you were on your way – suddenly the band on your high waisted shorts feels too tight. You swallow and shake your head, just a little further while the cooler with your cake swings next to you in your hand. You spot him five minutes later on a big knit blanket, snacks freshly taken out and set up prettily in their containers. His silver jewelry glints in the sun, freshly shined. He sits coolly, cross legged in black shorts, clean chucks tucked under his thighs that same damn carabiner hooked to his front belt loop. Your eyes trail upwards onto his black tank with an equally black linen short sleeve left unbuttoned, sleeves cuffed and loose against his tattooed arms. You can see a little more of his chest piece now that he’s not as covered up and it’s clear there’s very little of him that’s not inked up. 

“So do you dye all your black clothes to the same depth or do you have a really good eye for color?” you ask. He peers up at you from his book, hair tied up in what looks like a pen – his grays catch the light, so does the wire on the glasses perched on his nose. His lips spread into a grin, tip of his tongue sliding over the tip of his pointy canine, “You look pretty.” 

The hammering in your chest from his compliment makes you feel a little hotter than you were before. Eddie notices, smirking when he puts the book down to stand up and take the ice cake from you, transferring it into the Yeti cooler to the side. “Thank you for making this,” he smiles, “I’m excited for it.” "These are for you," he says sweetly, pulling a small bouquet of fresh flowers out from the cooler, "I didn't want them to wilt but now they're probably all wet." "It's actually kind of nice," you laugh, taking the cold bouquet from him. The water on the stems offering you some relief as droplets hit your toes. You sit down while he sets up your late lunch for you on a plate – he wasn’t kidding, he made bruschetta. Toasted the bread and everything. Meats, cheeses, cut up fruit, even Tajin. Was he a serial killer or something? Guys don’t actually do this, right? This is like…the witch from Hansel and Gretel energy.  "Thank you," you say, taking your plate, "For this and the flowers." "You said you thought picnic dates only happen in movies," he shrugs, "Wanted to make it nice for you."

“What book did you bring?” he asks while he pulls out two bottles of Pelligrino – the glass kind, dripping in condensation. “You’re not gonna judge me?” you ask. 

“Nah,” he grins. You reach into your bag to pull out the book, wincing when he looks at it with a quirked brow, sitting across from you. His cologne hits you, dark and leathery, woody and spicy -- you haven't smelled this one yet. Spit collects under your tongue when you see the chain peaking out from under the collar of his button down. Why is this old man so fine? “Bummer read, peach,” he laughs, taking the book from your hand, “Columbine by Dave Cullen? You wanna read about Columbine?”

“I’ve tried to get through it twice and I just never finish,” you shrug, snatching the book back, "You said you wouldn't judge me." “Probably can’t finish cause it’s a bummer,” he teases. He looks at you and the plate of food at your knees, “Go ahead, eat.” “What’re you reading?” you ask through a mouthful of cracker. 

“I’m halfway through The Two Towers,” he says, pulling the pen out of his hair and shaking it out, “I read the trilogy every summer.” “Lord of the Rings?” “Yeah,” he smiles and it lingers, it’s hard to stare at him for too long, “Also, yes – I do have a really good eye for color.” “Noted,” you nod, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to call you next time I wanna paint my walls or something.” “Don’t talk me up too much,” he says, leaning back and popping a mini pretzel into his mouth, “I think it’s just for matching blacks.” 

You've settled a lot after eating, both bottles of Pelligrino sitting empty on the blanket, snacks still out but the main courses fully devoured. You talked about work and he talked about clients and you both talked about how silly it was that you met at Trader Joe's because it is silly. The icebox cake stays in the cooler while you take your books out and digest. Time passes while you both read, Eddie leaning back on one arm and you laying down with your knees up. You’ve found the perfect position of the book blocking the sun from your face in a way that is still comfortable to hold it -- but the sun has moved some in the couple hours you've been at the park. “So what’s it about?” he asks after a while, “The book.” “Read the title,” you reply, turning your head to see him looking at you. “You know what I meant,” he sighs, nudging your sandaled foot with the toe of his Converse, “Don’t be so mean.” 

“It’s basically a recount of events, debunking some stuff – like the ‘Do you believe in God?’ exchange between one of the girls and Eric. Shows their journals and talks about the kind of kids they were – definitely not bullied I’ll tell you that much,” you explain. He marvels at you while you do, brown eyes raising and lowering while you yammer on.  “Was it weird for you? Like, did people think you were weird since you were into metal?” Your question brings him back to himself, away from your pretty lips and eyelashes, the way your face lights up when you talk, “There was a lot of overlap of satanic panic from the 80s – especially since graphic video games and shit were on the come up, too. I was out of high school by then but definitely got a lot of side eye for having, like, a Megadeth shirt on at work.” 

“What were you doing for work?” “I was a mechanic for a bit, started working there when I was a kid up until I left Indiana to work on music,” he reaches for another pretzel and you hold your hand out for one, already missing the bruschetta that you both destroyed in minutes. His fingers graze your palm where he places two of them, the salt bits falling onto the blanket. You take his fingers gently before he can take them away, finally close enough to read the tattoos on his knuckles. “G-W-E-N,” you spell out quietly. Your heart sinks at the realization – of course there’s some other woman, “Gwen, huh? Does she know you’re here?” “My mom?” he asks with a laugh, brows raising, “No, she died in 1990. But when I go visit her at the cemetery I’ll let her know all about it.” 

Your face burns, sitting up and letting your book fall to the wayside, “I’m sorry – that was – I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay,” he assures, noticing you haven't let go of his hand yet. His fingers delicately tracing over yours, thumb dragging softly over the heel of your palm, “The other hand is her middle name. Really lucked out on them both being four letters.” He shows you his other hand, hidden behind a few silver rings was R-O-S-E across the knuckles. You take that one too, tilting his hands to the side to look at the tattoos by his wrists and forearms, “Her full name was Gwendolyn, but obviously no one called her that. My uncle always called her Gwenny. Gwenny Rose when he was drunk – they woulda made a much better pair than her and my dad.” 

“Your dad still around?” 

“Murder-suicide,” he says quietly while your eyes take in the art all over his skin. “Jesus,” you hiss out, eyes snapping up to look into his. His face softens assuringly, lines on his face becoming less apparent, “Don’t worry about it. It’s been years and a shit ton of therapy. I’m very healed – and y’know, we all have our shit. That’s mine.” He takes your hands and flips them over, thumb now gliding over one of your gold rings, “What would you get tattooed on your knuckles?” You can feel the calloused edges of his finger tips while smoothing up to the edge of your wrist and down again like you did to him. Your throat nearly closes up with how it feels to be touched so softly like this, like you’re delicate. You shiver despite the heat when he flips them again, feathering meaningless shapes onto your palms. “Oh um,” you swallow, forgetting there was a world around you, not even noticing that clouds had blotted out the sun, “I don’t think I’d ever get my knuckles tattooed.” “Why’s that?” “I’m not a sort of rockstar like you are,” you grin. He clicks his tongue, warm hands gently circling your wrists while he shakes his head in disappointment. “So mean,” he chastises, “I’m a real rockstar, I prom – oh, shit.” A few drops come down in spits, and then a patter and before you know it the rain is coming down in sheets. You and Eddie quickly cover up the snacks in their tupperware, tossing everything haphazardly into the cooler, even the flowers. You take both books and put them in your bag while he wraps up the blanket now covered in grass and rain. You both peer at each other through squinted eyes as droplets collect on your eyelashes, his curls deflate and coil the wetter they get. “Hey um,” he starts, “You of course don’t have to, but I live pretty close by if you wanna just run to mine and dry off.” 

A familiar fear bubbles in your chest, “Uh…” “It’s okay! Let’s get out of the park and I’ll get you a car home,” he offers, hand outstretched for you to take it. You can feel the buzz between your hands when he laces fingers with you, the same electric current you felt when he held you steady at the store yesterday. He holds it strong and certain, knowing exactly where to go. You let him lead you out while the cooler drags behind him, eyes half closed as the rain hits them. You look down at your shirt as you get to an exit close to the library, completely see through now that it’s soaked. You let go of his hand when he gets his phone out, crossing your arms over your chest, already missing the buzz. “If you’re really close by I’d actually love a chance to dry off,” you say before he even gets the app open. He looks you over, seeing how your shirt sticks to your skin, the tone peeking through. “Oh, honey, here,” he says hurriedly, shrugging off his wet linen button up and putting it over your shoulders, “I'm like, less than a ten minute walk. You sure?" You nod while the rain continues to pelt you both, wincing with your shoulders up by your neck as if that'll protect you from the never ending downpour. “Prospect Heights, huh?” you ask with a raised brow, “Maybe I should put you in my phone as Money Bags, instead.” 

“Don’t start,” he laughs, wet curls bouncing when his head turns to you, offering his hand again, “C’mon, peach.” 

You take it without any hesitation.

prev | next

[tarotwithavi]

How do men view you?

Masterlist ♡ paid services

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⚠ : these pictures do not belong to me. I have taken them Pinterest

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest.

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PILE 1

Hey pile 1 ! Now I don't know about your personal life but men around you see you as someone who has been through a lot of things . You might always appear as sleepy or men get that you're always sleepy but somehow still cute. They see you as someone who's very observant and knows about everything. Almost as a smart ass. Someone who is always in their head. I'm also getting that men around you feel like a need to protect you or provide for you. It's just something about you that makes them treat you nicely but it mostly comes from pity. And I'm also getting that there's something about your eyes that attracts men. I feel like men view you as someone who tries very hard to do something. I'm not saying that they view you as a pushover but they feel like you try very hard to fit in. Men feel like someone has hurt you and they shouldn't mess with you. I am also getting that men feel like you are waiting for someone very special like a Soulmate to have a relationship with and you do not want just fun or like to mess around with someone. You want a real committed rerelationship and do not want to fuck around. You respect your time and you don't give it to others who don't deserve it. But when they get close to you, you treat them very nicely and are very caring. Almost like a mother. But still you won't let them be too close to you . It's like you always have a wall around you no matter how close they are to you. Men also see you as a wise person who has a lot of knowledge regarding different topics. And I'm also getting that you always have something to teach them. Men see you as a cold hearted person sometimes. They are somewhat scared to approach you because they feel like you'll reject them. If you have dark eyes they are like an ocean to men. Almost like a dark sea. There's also something about your gaze that's very attractive to them.

Random messages : peach, cherry, turkey, cold/winters, Neptune dominant, night time, black Swan, tear drops, Aries, Sagittarius, scorpio, Pisces , Capricorn , Pointy nose , brown hair.

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PILE 2

Hey pile 2 ! Okay let's get one thing straight, what I'm about to say is not good to be very good. So prepare yourself. Men around you almost romanticize you and sexualize you. They have fantasies about you. And I'm also getting that men around you get obsessed with you and may also stalk you. Men can't face rejection from you and when they get rejected they may act psychotic. You're the dream girl of many men. Because you come from a rich and abundant family. And this is not always good because men want to take advantage of you. Either your money or from your name . Some men see you as someone who is family oriented and has a lot of expectations . Men see you as someone who's secretive and mysterious. There's somehow about you that makes men desire you but you don't give them any of your attention. You know your worth and won't let anyone walk over you. You're also very bittersweet too. You also bring peace and harmony with you everywhere you go. Men also see that you have a great intellect. You want or might have an emotionally secure and loving family or this kind of family is important to you . Men want to have kids with you so that you wouldn't get away from them.( you almost arouse the breeding kink in men) Men also see you as someone who's very stubborn. You know exactly what you want and won't settle for anything less than that. Men also feel instant connection with you. But you're also a heartbreaker. Or men see you as one. I am also getting that men see you as someone who had a great glow up. Or you can be someone who changes their aesthetic very often. And looks good in everything. I'm hearing Made You look by Meghan Trainor. So this song might be important to you. Or you give off the energy of this song. Men also find your voice very attractive. You could have a deep or soothing voice.

Random messages : Capricorn, Leo, Aries, Aquarius, Pisces, libra, August, 8 , moon, clouds, Ram, rest, 1010 , 333 , pineapple, good back, smooth hair.

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PILE 3

Hey pile 3! You're pile got the most cards like my cards were flying out lol. Okay so right off the bat I'm getting that you might give off serial killer Vibes to men and men are also scared of you . You might practice witchcraft or are interested in the occult and you seem to always talk about it , so somehow men are scared of you because they see you as a witch. And somehow you pull both men and women. You have a lot of suitors. You like taking risks. Men feel scared of you because you don't seem to have fear about anything . It's like you like to put yourself in dangerous situations and take risks because it gives you pleasure almost like a psychopath. You give off light yagami's vibe from DEATH NOTE. You might say something very controversial or wear a shirt with something very controversial written on it. Men don't want to involve themselves with you because sometimes they think that they'll be in on bad rumors. Some of you might be bisexual. You are very in tune with your sexuality. This pile is very different, I'm amazed. You might have masculine energy or like to act masculine and men somehow feel insecure around you. You can do everything by yourself and don't need anyone to help. And this gives men anxiety because they know they won't be in your life if they're not offering you something or being helpful in some way. You easily attract the spotlight. Some men also see you as somehow who they'll love to work with or be on good terms with. You also give some regrets to men. Like when you cut ties with men they feel like they should've treated you better. Men might also be against your beliefs and what you say. You always trigger something in them. Men see you as a very goal oriented person. Alright so here I feel a male's energy, this can be your ex or if you don't have an ex this is your ex-crush. They see how great you're doing in your life and they feel regretful about what they couldn't have with you.

Random messages : lion/Tiger high cheekbones, Leo , virgo, rabbit, Target, a good friend, guilt trip, Tea, sharp jawline, Bun.

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[starstruckkittensweets]

puppy love

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

My latest fixation, Chuuya with puppies! My precious boy deserves to be happy with a doggy of his own, so I decided to play into this little fantasy of mine (and his, probably). I'm planning on writing more parts to this lil series, I think it's helping me get out of my writing slump. Also parts of this fic are inspired by Shiloh, one of my all-time favorite books (so much nostalgia...) and a bit of a reference to that one puppy episode from Wan. And the panel I used for the banner is from the BSD manga (I think it's ch. 24) I hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of stray animals, Reader cries but it's in relief, mostly fluff, pet names (mostly "doll" but used only once in this part), the start of a slow burn perhaps? || words: 2k

Part I | Part II | Part III

He’s halfway through his usual trek home, muscles burning and head pounding from another successful night’s mission, when he realizes he has a shadow.

Chuuya doesn’t let up his pace; stay calm, don’t give anything away—but he has to wonder, who could be this stupid to try to follow a mafia executive? And they’re not being subtle about it either. Making no effort to conceal their breaths or their footsteps—

Wait a minute…that sounds too light to be footsteps…

He sucks in a breath and turns around to face the culprit. Hands clenched into fists at his sides, preparing for a fight—

“Woof!”

Staring up at him is perhaps one of the cutest fucking dogs he’s ever laid eyes on. (Not that he’s seen many dogs, but the point still stands.) Pointy ears, fuzzy orange fur, white paws and a belly that definitely looks too plump for a street dog.

He stares at it. The dog stares back, pink tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

“…Woof!”

It takes every ounce of strength he can muster not to melt right then and there on the sidewalk. A thousand squeals on the tip of his tongue, gloved hands itching to scratch under that fuzzy little chin of his.

Never mind any dog hair, fuck that. Who’s gonna try to turn their nose up at this little cutie?

Chuuya briefly scans the area—not a soul in sight, just him and his companion beneath the lamplights—before dropping to his knees. The dog paws at the ground, his curly tail swishing madly in the air.

“C’mere boy,” he keeps his voice soft, holding out a hand. But the dog doesn’t budge. He just stares at him with that big dumb smile of his.

That really adorable dumb smile.

He tries again. The dog tilts his head and refuses to move. So Chuuya tries another tactic: “C’mere, girl?”

Still doesn’t move a muscle. Although now the dog looks amused as he paces from side to side, just out of Chuuya’s reach.

Yeah, gotta be a boy with that kind of attitude.

Chuuya sighs before pushing himself off the ground. Ah well, guess he’s too nervous to approach humans. Can’t really blame him for that; this city’s got its fair share of unpleasant people. He deals with them all the time, so he can kinda relate.

He shoves his hands back into his pockets (try not to think about how soft the dog’s fur must be) and turns on his heel to head home. It’s getting late anyway, and he’s got to get an early start tomorrow morning. He can’t be spending all night moping around some stray puppy following him around.

Even if he is the cutest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

But he only gets a few steps in before hearing the unmistakable click-click of the dog’s nails against the pavement. He stops, the dog stops too. He glances over his shoulder, biting back a smile at the dog’s happy face.

“What do you want, huh? I don’t have any food, so if that’s what you’re looking for…”

Not that he looks like he needs any treats to begin with. He’s seen a few of the dogs roaming around Yokohama, all skin and bones as they pick through tipped-over trash cans. And the stray cats are no better, ears flat against their skulls as they hiss and claw at everything in sight.

So why does this dog look so fucking proud of himself?

Chuuya sighs and whistles to himself—and suddenly the dog comes running.

Two dirty paws plant themselves on his dress pants, that’ll surely be hard to get out, but how can he get angry when the dog’s trying so hard to reach his face? He chuckles under his breath as he kneels down to his level, as the dog plants kiss after kiss on his face with his slobbery tongue.

“Who knew all it took was a whistle?” he says more to himself than to the pup. The dog’s tail is wagging so hard he thinks it’ll fall off, the tiny little thing that it is.

He slides one of his gloves off, letting the dog sniff his hand before scratching him behind the ears. He was right, his fur is so soft… And his smile only gets bigger when the dog licks him again, not even minding all the drool.

But then he stiffens, slipping his fingers through the dog’s fur, noticing a red band of leather fastened around his neck. A collar? No way he’s someone’s pet. Then again, he does look a little too spoiled to be wandering the streets for food.

He curls his finger around the golden tag dangling from the buckle. No name, only an address he thinks he recognizes. Right on the edge of Yokohama, where the scent of sea salt is the strongest. Is it someone’s house? Apartment? Maybe a  shelter of some kind?

Chuuya steals another look at the dog, at those sweet brown eyes and twitching wet nose, trying his best to ignore the icy clench of his stomach. Maybe it’s for the best, just to bring him back. What’s he gonna do with a dog, anyway? Not like his job allows for much time raising a puppy, anyway.

Even one so cute as this little guy.

“Alright,” he sighs, scooping the pup in his arms, “let’s get you home.” He tries not to dwell on how warm the puppy is, or how softly he nestles his face in the crook of his shoulder.

And definitely not the way he can feel the pup drifting off to sleep as he starts down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Gentle puffs against his skin, his curly tail twitching against his wrist.

“Kotaro! There you are!”

The engraving on the pup’s collar has led him to a tiny little shop a few minutes from the port. A bit shabby with a torn sign on the top and windows that have definitely seen better days, and he’s about to turn tail (no pun intended) until he sees someone nearly fly out through the set of double doors.

“Kotaro!” Your voice is strained, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sweep the puppy into your arms. Clutching him as tight as you can, smoothing down the fur on his head as he stirs awake from his little nap. “I was worried sick… How did you escape again?! I could’ve sworn I locked the doors… You’re just lucky I came back downstairs when I did—or else you would’ve been out there all night long!”

The puppy only wags his tail, staring up at you with those silly eyes and sweet little “smile.” He knows it’s your weakness, how could you be angry at a face like that?

Oh, well. As long as he’s safe, you can’t really hold a grudge against him. Not when he’s back in your arms, safe and sound, and it’s just the two of you, just as it always should be.

It’s only when you hear someone clear their throat that you realize you’re actually not alone. You hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand—it’s a little difficult with a nearly-twenty-pound dog in your arms—and stare up at the man before you. Kotaro’s savior, your savior. And suddenly you feel a fresh wave of tears surge forth.

“Thank you for bringing him back! I’m so sorry if he’s caused you any trouble, I know he has a habit of bothering people when he sneaks out—I thought I’d kept him inside this time! He just has a thing for running away like the little troublemaker he is. He’s still young, hopefully he’ll grow out of it when he’s older, maybe he’ll mellow out and settle down, and then…”

You bite your tongue and avert your eyes. No need to scare off the stranger with your incessant rambling, especially after he was so nice to bring Kotaro back to you. But he only shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips as he tips his hat over his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, he didn’t cause too much trouble.” He lifts a hand, allowing Kotaro to sniff him before scratching the fur beneath his chin. “Keep an eye on him, though. You don’t want him getting lost out there, especially this time of night.”

“I know… I swear, he’s gonna give me gray hairs before the end of the year. The other dogs aren’t even this mischievous, I don’t know where he got it from!”

Wait, other dogs?

He glances over your shoulder, towards the dingy windows of the shop. Pet supplies and part-time shelter, the sign plastered on the glass says. And sure enough, the closer he looks at your outfit, he can see little bits of dog fur clinging to the fabric—some gray, some brown, some white, and then a hint of orange thanks to Kotaro.

Just how many dogs do you have in there?

“Anyway, I just wanna say I really appreciate you bringing him back here. You didn’t have to, I know you’re probably busy. Let me just run inside and get my wallet, I think I have some left over if you want—”

But he’s quick to shut you down with a shake of his head, even a wave of his hands for emphasis. No money, he’s already got plenty of that to spare. And besides, it doesn’t sit right with him, paying him for something that should come naturally to any decent person.

And he doesn’t want to sound mean, but judging from the shape of that little shop of yours, you look like you can use every last cent you have.

“Oh, if you say so… But still, why don’t I make it up to you sometime?”

An uneasy silence settles in the air between you; Chuuya blinks as he watches you shift your weight, partially hiding your face in Kotaro’s fur.

“…I mean, you don’t have to—I just wanna pay you back some way! Maybe I can treat you to lunch one of these days? I don’t have many days off, but I can make it work! Or maybe…do you have a dog of your own? I can give you a discount on anything in the shop!” You throw an arm out to the double doors behind you, still holding Kotaro to your chest. “Name it and it’s yours! I really don’t mind, it’s just me here anyway. Well, me and the dogs, all nine of us.”

Wait, nine, including yourself…

“You have eight of them?!”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat at the look on Chuuya’s face. He reminds you of a child on Christmas morning, staring at the presents strewn around the glowing tree. He doesn’t seem one to enjoy the company of dogs, given his fancy attire and confident aura.

And yet, he still brought Kotaro back home, when he could’ve easily turned and walked the other way. You’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover, after all.

“Eight dogs, and hopefully more by the end of the year.” Your cheeks grow warm beneath his startling blue gaze. (His eyes are really pretty up close, aren’t they?) “…I can tell you all about them on our lunch date, if you’re interested.”

He blinks, eyes flitting back and forth between you and the dog in your arms. You’ve got guts, he’ll give you that; he can see it in the way you talk to him, the way you hold the puppy in your arms. Gentle as ever, but a fire brimming in your eyes. You love this dog, no doubt about it.

And you’ve got seven more inside? Do you love them all the same amount?

What breeds are they? How did you come to adopt so many dogs at once? Or did you adopt them at once, or sporadically over the years?

So many questions, and yet the night is crawling by. He shakes his head again, giving Kotaro one last scratch behind the ears, before meeting your gaze once more.

“Lunch sounds perfect, doll.”

Your lips pull up in a smile, and he can’t help but notice how it nearly matches the one on Kotaro’s face. Bright and eager, melting under the attention of the ones around you.

And yet your smile is infinitely prettier, and he finds himself thinking about it as he starts the familiar journey back home, as the night hours slowly tick by.

[sunflowerzyk]

DRAGON X READER

(drable)

Contiene: Dragon X Fem!Reader, Monster Romance, Slow Burn, SFW (por ahora) .

You travel through a portal, To a stereotypical Medieval to fantasy era with all kinds of magical creatures and different mythologies, just myths in your previous life. Wonderful monsters in your eyes.

But you must continue to work even here, as an assistant to an elf apothecary who offered you work, sending you in search of ingredients where you cross paths with your next opportunity to explore new places. A dragon.

Version en Español

— Just get these plants, the map is in your bag, and there's the usual transportation.

That grumpy goblin muttered with little patience, pointing to the faucet that was a few meters away from the two of you. Sometimes-you wonder how that tiny body of your 'boss' can contain so much anger and bitterness without exploding into streamers and brightly colored paper.

— Roger that, ....

You hummed, with your boss in the palm of your hand you gently set him down on the window frame of his store. Opening the bag that hung at your side, pulling out the piece of paper, drawings of the herbs you needed to find with their names written carelessly in a language you knew very little of even now, your pronunciation was horrible.

You looked at everything out of the corner of your eye without giving it much thought next to the map<<snowy mountains>> you managed to decipher, your brow furrowed slightly.

— Will Comet reach those heights?

you asked hesitantly, glancing sideways at the griffin that was easily twice your height, before returning to your boss, who was frowning at you.

-—He will if he has a good rider.

He hissed, before turning and leaping out of the frame and into the hut. You were definitely hoping he'd explode into rainbow sparkles someday.

You let out a snort flying between amused and frustrated. Stashing the map and list in the bag again, adjusting the strap so it wouldn't fly off.

— Well boy...I guess it's you and me against this world.

You whispered, making an awkward attempt to climb into his saddle. It would be just like any other day of collecting. Just coming and going, following directions with no incidentals. Pulling on the straps of the griffin unfurling its massive wings, flying off in a northerly direction.

— She's not coming back.

Murmured your boss's wife, a little golden-haired, pointy-nosed elf with worry in her voice.

— If she's worthy to live she will, if she doesn't, it's one less burden for us, winter is near.

He muttered coldly.

— You could have given the job to someone else more capable.

— No one accepted, they're smart.

— So is she.

— But she trusted us.

Yes, a mistake, or a little nudge to a different story...

— Oh Shit!

You hiss, falling to the side of the griffin mount as you try to turn as if you were going to run away.

Everything was fine, Except for the torturous autumn winds whipping through the snowy mountains (no snow hard.

It was almost noon, there was an embracing sun that could not penetrate the strong winds at all. Although you had adequate clothing, a fur sweater, boots and pants to withstand the cold, the wind almost blew you off the road more than once.

Thanks to Comer your huge scream that broke the path of the blizzards you recorded it to sneak under it and collect those herbs you needed, too impressed with how resistant they were, hidden among the stones not to fly away.

But. a gale much stronger than the rest flanked your moaning stance as you pulled it up to take off on your return.

You were on the ground, wide-eyed.... watching him, him a fucking Dragon over four meters tall, the whole package complete with scales, teeth wings claws and piercing eyes that seemed to gnaw at your soul.

Your griffin immediately lowered its head in the dragon's presence, like a scolded little puppy. You no..... could not move and bow.

Since you arrived in this world you first asked for dragons, receiving mocking or accusatory looks from others in your direction. Everyone said they never left their territories. Caves or whatever you call them. Being extremely territorial, for you, a small human it would be better to be far away.

And now? You understood why.

Just stretching your head back painfully just to look at him.... or look directly into his eyes was uncomfortable.

You observe her features...you always had a thing for dragons in particular, perhaps a reverence or fascination for such elegantly terrifying and lethal creatures.

The Dragon. He watched you from his full height, you didn't know what he thought, he was probably like the others and was debating whether you were a dwarf, a deformed offspring of a giant or a fairy without pointed ears.

And it wasn't incorrect your guess, Because in his head, He was genuinely debating to find out your race and whether you were too stupid to understand that you should lower your head in his presence. Or very very very stupid to know that you weren't intimidating with...those huge eyes.... Staring at him.

<<What kind of a creature are you?>>

You asked yourself barking your head, leaning closer.

Immediately Comete stepped between the two of you, placing his body smaller than the grafin but larger than yours on top of you, still with his head down. But unable to be at ease without trying to protect you, the only rider who had any regard for him.

— Get out of the way.

growled the huge Dragon. It moved its huge armored paw toward Comet, wrapping it firmly around him and ripping him off of you. Throwing it over the edge of the mountain.

— Comet!

You gasped. Finally aware of your situation, seeing your transport being tossed around like it was nothing turned your stomach.

And hearing the Dragon's growl sent its considerable amount of electric shocks into you.

He turned his gaze immediately to you when he heard you speak, completely intrigued by the softer, squeakier sound of your voice in comparison to his own.

You quickly became mute without knowing what to do. Returning your attention to the huge dragon with a dry throat.

The Dragon was as anxious as you, finding a different creature wandering in its territory would merit death by incineration, but you were bold and did not lower your gaze no matter how fixed it looked at you....es interesting.

Until you break the silence,

Beginning with a quick introduction of your name, making a small bow in the mother tongue of that kingdom.

-

— I come in peace

You added with a tense jaw. Raising your hands in surrender.

<<....., little one, Foreigner with a terrible accent>>

He hummed in his head, moving a little closer to you, just a few centimeters.

When Comet comes back flapping awkwardly against the wind current that doesn't affect you because of the dragon's huge body and its wind-repelling body heat. Making you feel vapor in place.

— You are with life..... Comet!

You whisper excitedly, almost comically, prancing in its direction.

The dragon instead lets out a cloud of steam in your direction so that you shut your mouth. Glaring at the gryphon again, who stood with a firm composure, ready to protect you (try).

You didn't know you could be eaten because if Haci were the dragon he would have done it from minute one.

A small shiver ran through you as you returned your gaze to him and he to you.

The growl that came from deep in his chest and made his scales vibrate and the ground filled you completely, leaving you unable to stop looking at him again.

You left him captivated with your menacing stare.

[brighttears]

hi! back again with another request, i hope that’s ok! if not then totally ignore this. For the request: could we get a jealous reader? Im always seeing Fics where Joel is jealous and would like to see that changed up! Maybe she sees Joel hanging around another woman more his age and she gets insecure, idk it’s totally up to you how it happens. if you do take this request then thank you so much, if it’s not something you’re interested in writing then that’s ok too and thank you for your fics!! <3

Joel Miller x reader

No physical description except for having hair, leaning fem but no pronouns or explicit mentions, no use of y/n 

Warnings: age-gap, mentions of sex, drinking, Angst (happy ending), pet names (honey), you have a big fight :,(

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: omg love this idea. Thank you for the request you’re so sweet and I’m happy to do them !! helps so much with writer's block plus I get to do cool stuff like this lol. This was challenging so I hope it doesn't disappoint :P

P.s. if any of yall’s name is Emily i apologize just replace it with the name of someone you hate lol

—

Even from all the way across the bar, you’re burning up, watching the way the woman in front of Joel twirls her hair and flashes her teeth when she laughs over enthusiastically at his jokes. Thankfully his back is to you so you can’t be tortured by whatever his expression—or wherever he’s looking—may be. 

Ever since you got to Jackson women have been crowding Joel like he’s the only man on the commune and it’s been driving you up the wall. You want to go over and give Joel a big wet kiss and tell her to fuck off, but you and him have never had a discussion about ‘us’, so you have no real right to claim him. Still, it burns, and that woman, Emily, as you’ve come to learn her name, as Joel’s number one fan, has such a punchable face. A matching burn of the whisky from your glass is welcomed down to your stomach.

When she leans forward, showing off the goods, you can’t stand it anymore, down the dregs of your drink and storm out of the Tipsy Bison. The icy breeze cools you down some but you’re in no way calm once you’re back at the house. Stomping up to your room—you and Joel’s room, you strip your jacket and immediately grab your gun to deep clean. Icey pain drips from your heart down into the crater of lava in your chest and it hisses in your ears.

Sitting at the head of the bed, you’re almost done with the fourth cleaning when Joel’s recognizable stomps sound with the creaking and slam of the front door. You continue to clean, not looking up when he comes in. 

“Hey,” he says breathily, innocently. 

“Hm. I’m surprised you even came home.” you reply, still not looking up. Still aflame, you keep a mostly even tone but Joel easily catches the pointy edges. 

He pauses, then finishes kicking off his boots to straighten up and turn to you, “An’ why’s that?”

“I mean I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow morning on your walk of shame from Emily’s house.” you keep your focus on the final wipe down of your gun.

“What?” 

“What? Can’t blame me, I saw her eyefucking you. Basically shaking her tits in your face, too. Didn’t stay long though, it was actually kind of fucking gross.” 

“Beg your fuckin’ pardon?”

“Oh, don’t act stupid.” you finally meet his gaze, “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Go fuck whoever you want. I guess it’s none of my business. Would have been nice to know that that was the deal here before we started sharing an actual bed, though.” you go back to overpolishing the metal, trying to act nonchalant, but your chest is full of mud. 

“What makes you think I’m goin’ around fuckin’ other women?” 

“Well, now that you’ve got the pick of the litter, why settle for me?” you finally place your gun down loudly on the nightstand. 

Joel raises his voice in sternness, “What the fuck r’you talkin’ about?”  

You take a deep breath through your nose, refusing to let your anger go, but the icey, tight pain is tearing at your heart and you can’t stop it from piercing through your voice when you say, “I just—I just thought it was me, I thought it was me you wanted.”

“What—’course you’re—where’s all this comin’ from?” 

You stand to face him and scoff, “Please, you think I don’t see the way the women here have been looking at you? They drool all over you, and you just let them, you throw ‘em a smile.” you voice is teeming with attitude, “Never saying a word to me about it. What is it, are you ashamed of me? I have to be your little secret? I’m just some young—some young…” you stop yourself before you finish a sentence you know you’ll regret, no matter how much you want to stick him with it, but it’s too late.

Joel steps one foot towards you and shoves his finger out, glowering, “Good call not finishin’ that sentence.” he growls, “I don’t know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to though cause it sure as hell ain’t me.”

You pick your fire right back up, “I thought maybe I’d be good enough but there's things I don’t have, huh? Need a woman more your speed? Well, you’re free to let Emily fuck you better, just please don’t bring her back here, okay?” you end it with your voice drenched in sarcasm.

It’s Joel’s turn to scoff now, “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? I don’t give a shit about Emily! I’m not fuckin’ her! Wh—” Joel narrows his eyes, “You tryin’ to say I’m a cheater? Is that it? That's what you think a me?” 

“N–no,” you stutter, suddenly realizing that that is what you’re accusing him of. 

Near shouting, he continues, “You don’t trust me. That's what this is about.” 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you move towards him but he steps back.

“How the hell else am I supposed’t take that?”

“I’m just scared.” the confession jumps out of you.

“Scared of what?” he shouts.

“Of you leaving me!” your voice breaks and you choke back the onset of a sob, but Joel loses no venom.

“You’re scared of me leaving? After all this time—after everything, you think I’m—I’d—I don’t want to leave you! Talkin’ to Emily, I was just tryin’ t’be fuckin’ polite, be,” he takes another step towards you, “social, that’s all! You think I can’t talk to women without tryna get in their pants? Is that really the kinda man you think I am? Should I stop talkin’ to Maria, too? Cause I’m such a piece a shit cheater I’m probably tryna get at her, too, huh? My own brother's wife? That’s what you think a me?” 

“No,” you nearly scream, hitting your hands to your head to grab at your hair, “that’s not what I mean, that’s not what I’m trying to say!”

“Then what are you trying to say?” He yells back.

Your chest is starting to heave, beginning to be overwhelmed with emotion, but you try to keep it under control, not wanting to break down in the middle of an argument. “I just hate seeing it! I hate seeing the women here fucking crawling all over you like cats in heat and you just fucking take it, like you want it, you want them, not me, now that I’m not the only option, you’ve got all these pretty women just waiting for you to knock on their fucking door, and I was just—just—”

“What, just some young pussy?” Joel snarls.

“No one that mattered! No one special! And all of it was empty, all the words, the sex, the time we shared, I was just a placeholder for a proper woman, cause I’m not good enough, was never good enough for you…” your voice shatters as the whirling in your head and heart overcomes you and you step back until the back of your knees hit the bed, then flump down and put your head in your hands, trying not to sob.

Instinctually, Joel comes to kneel before you, his anger beginning to melt away when his attention shifts to you in pain. He takes your wrists to uncover your face, saying nothing, only focusing your eyes and his, now gentle, as you continue to try to control your jumping breaths. After a few moments of you unsuccessfully calming yourself, Joel moves his hand to stroke your cheek, over the side of your face, into your hair. When your breathing has calmed some, he looks over your face and wipes away the few escaped tears. “I hate it when you cry but you look so pretty when you do.” he tells you, soft and quiet, pulling a small laugh out of you. Once your inhales and exhales are at an even pace, he speaks up again, with a soothing tone, “Okay. Now I’ve calmed down, n’ you’ve calmed down.” he takes a deep breath and you do with him, like you’ve learned to, before he continues, “I know all a that was just outta anger. N’ we’re just not at an understandin’ here… Honey I’m in love with you.” 

His words make you take a deep, post-cry shuddering breath. Remembering you have to say something back, you whisper, “I’m in love with you, too.”

After a few silent but full moments with Joel stealing glances at your lips, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod your head as you’re already leaning in as a response. Your lips essentially smash together, want igniting in both of you. You lean forward until he’s on the floor and you’re sitting on top of him, both hands holding his face while one of his clutches your hip and the other slides over your jaw and into your hair. Then Joel pushes you up and onto the bed, nosing into your neck from above you, sticking wet kisses all up and down it while your hands tangle in his hair. He slows and drags kisses back up to your mouth. Sounding drunk, Joel finds time between your mouths to say “Don’ want no one else.”

Between kisses you continue to converse, “So can I punch Emily in the face?”

“Mmm, I don't think Maria would like that very much. Why don’tcha just give me a big sloppy kiss next time she won't leave me th' fuck alone?”

“I can do that. Can we hold hands?”

“Yeah we can do that. Can I squeeze yer ass?”

“Only when someone’s looking. You can do it when they're not either but I would prefer if you did it while you know one of those alley cat’s watchin’.”

“Mhm. Every time. Let em’ all know.”

“You know, you’re gonna have a lot less friends once I scare all of them away.”

“Fuckin’ fine by me. I got everyone I need already.”

[moonlightazriel]

Day 1: Family

For: @ruhnweek

Main Masterlist

Ruhn week masterlist

Ruhn puffed the smoke out through his nose, his eyes glued to the two females in the front of their private booth. Y/N held a microphone awfully close to her lips, trying to conceal breathing, singing, laughing and the weight of Bryce’s body on her back as his sister piggy rides his mate. The two females sang so loudly that he was sure the rest of the clients were able to hear. 

Some pop music he didn’t even know the name of, but the beauty in the moment wasn’t their voices, but the bright smiles both of them wore, bursting out laughing randomly throughout the song. He allowed the calmness of the mirth-root to settle in, carrying his mind to a memory so distant in time…

“Wait, so you’re telling me you have a sister I never heard about?” She placed her hands on her hips like a mother ready to scold her disobeying child. 

“You know that my asshole father likes to pull these moves.” Ruhn sighed, his face seeming tired. She moved towards him, his shirt riding up, that was all she wore. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she looked at him worried.

“How do you feel about it?” She inquired and he rested his hands on her hips, pulling her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he spun her around, placing her on the counter he was leaning seconds ago. 

“It’s weird, and she’s much younger. How do I even approach a teenager?” She pulled a strand of hair behind his ear, prompting him to pull her in for a kiss, her warm lips brought him peace.

“I’ll be there with you, it’s going to be fine.” She promised as they parted the kiss, and he believed her.

—--

Bryce Quinlan was much younger than he expected, just a thirteen year old girl, scared to be in the presence of her father for the first time. Her eyes curiously roamed around, trying to find some comfort in such a hostile environment, her father's clear distaste for her presence hurt her young heart, but she didn’t allow it to show on her face.

She eyed the female again, her kind eyes softening whenever she caught Bryce staring, making the younger blush. The female had pretty, pointy ears in display like hers, her silk hair on a bun and she wore a summer dress. Bryce had caught her rolling her eyes to her father’s voice a couple of times, clearly displeased to be near him.

Ruhn groaned internally, he wanted to tell his father to shut the fuck up, his harsh words towards Bryce’s looks and education being so out of hand that he could even feel Y/N’s anger growing through the bond they shared. 

“You can go to your room after the meal.” Einar ordered, making Bryce deflate, she was so excited to meet the city. But Y/N cleared her throat.

“I would like to invite Bryce to go have some ice cream with me and Ruhn, we can take care of her for the day.” She blinked at the teenager. 

“She can go.” The autumn King dismissed. 

They haven’t even finished their meal, but Y/N got out of the table, offering her hand to Bryce and being escorted by Ruhn, she would always spend as little as she could in his presence, going months without even visiting her father in law if she could avoid it. 

She ignored the scoff the male loudly let out. She knew Einar hated her, but he knew that when the mating bond snapped, there was nothing he could do to prevent her and Ruhn from ever getting together, not without losing his son completely, so he just ignored her most of the time.

—--

“Where would you like to go?” She turned to Bryce, Ruhn was by her side, his sister shyly trying to keep eye contact with them, she had looked at him with such admiration when he arrived that he had almost cried.

“Are we not getting ice cream?” She asked, her head whipping around trying to gather all the information FiRo had to offer. 

“Oh we are, but now you’re free to choose what you want to do. We want to know about you.” Bryce seemed radiant when she heard that, she had researched about Lunathion before going there, she wanted to go to museums, parks and so many places. 

That day, she held Bryce’s hand, allowing the younger girl to drag her around, from shop to shop, park to park. They walked around the whole city, Bryce was so happy, the two chatting like they knew each other since his sister was born. Ruhn watched as his mate and sister bonded, Bryce giggling and trying to keep her ice cream away from Y/N’s reach, the female scooping bits of the teenager's sweet treat to make her laugh.

All the rude words and distance from their father was long forgotten, he knew how much it meant to her all the attention the both of them were giving to her, he just didn’t know how much. 

So when Bryce went back to her mother’s house, they would always visit her, Mrs Quinlan had welcomed the two of them with open arms, for being so good for her Bryce she had claimed. And whenever his sister would go back to Lunathion, it was in their shared house she would stay. 

Ruhn then remembered when he and Bryce fought, the harsh words he condemned his father for saying to her coming out of his lips. Y/N had come home in that exact moment, gasping and shoving him aside, pulling Bryce towards their bedroom and locking him out. 

When she got out, was only to give him a pair of blankets and his pillows, stating that she couldn’t even look at him right now. It took almost as much time to get her to forgive him as it did for Bryce. 

When Bryce moved to Lunathion to attend college, they would always meet and have a girls night, despite being a few years older, the two of them had created a bond of their own, just as unbreakable as their mating bond and Ruhn loved it. The two females he loved the most in the world, shared a love just as big.

—--

Ruhn wiped the tears that gathered on the corner of his eyes, being startled by Y/N plopping  herself on his lap, Declan was the one singing now. Bryce sat with her feet across Hunt’s leg, her cunning eyes scanning him.

“Our performance was that good that brought you to tears?” She mocked, wiping an invisible tear from her own face. 

“He just can’t resist, we’re too good of a duo.” Y/N said squeezing his cheek and placing a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, you two are just too good, I'm glad you two get along.” He said, his eyes going back and forth between the two. 

“She’s more my sister than you’re my brother, asshole.” Bryce flipped him off and he laughed. 

“And this makes me so happy, I love you two.” Y/N squeezed his face against her chest and Bryce jumped on the two. 

“We love you too.” She had said. “I’m glad to call you two my family.” Y/N kissed Bryce’s forehead. 

“Hey,stop this or I'll throw up.” Tristan said, rolling his eyes.

“FUCK YOU FLYNN.” The two females yelled in unison. 

“You heard my ladies.” Ruhn said, feeling his heart swell with happiness of seeing them both safe after everything they had gone through. His favourite girls.

[cryptiidcrowe]

the manipulate manslaughter manwhore himself <33

deep dive into design choices under the cut!

i went into this design imagining him as the gold standard of tumblr sexymen, and then accidentally made him gnc as fuck and now he’s my gender. oops lol

- i knew i wanted to make his vest and tie patterned, bc he strikes me as someone who’d wear garish but somehow still classy (& probably also clashing) patterns. i also decided to make each piece correspond with arthur and john—the vest has the same brown and gold color scheme as arthur with an eye motif (for arthur’s blindness but also kayne’s sort of omniscient vibe). the tie has the same color scheme as my john (more or less exactly colorpicked) with a marigold pattern, both for the nickname and for its flower language—among other things, marigold symbolizes the sun, and also death. i had a ton of fun making the symbolism work for both boys but also fit with kayne’s vibe c:

(also, if i ever animate kayne, i imagine the patterns do that thing where the patterns don’t move with him but rather look like they’re a part of the background, if that makes sense; heightening his sort of uncanny otherworldly vibe)

- i purposefully wanted to make kayne look a little uncanny and inhuman! sharp stylized teeth (he’s always got a toof sticking out), forked tongue, and long pointy ears. also this bitch’s anatomy makes no sense & can and will change whenever! generally his legs are very long and his waist very small (& grabbable. grab if you dare), but as seen in the profile shot with his mouth, he’s always just kinda. off.

- his eyes are kind of slanted & mono-lidded, and his irises are more square shaped than circular. his pupils are upside down crosses. also he has the most luscious lashes imaginable

- he carries a cane around just for the aesthetic. it is nonfunctional other than self-referential jokes and murder

- face is generally made up of long & very sharp shapes. i was a little worried about his head shape being too similar to arthur’s, since his is also long with strong cheekbones, but i made kayne’s overall more sharp and severe. also pointy nose

small detail lightning round:

- he has moles! trust me he told me himself

- tails on his suit, kinda tattered and ragged looking; sort of mirrors the right hair strand

- dramatic arched eyebrows w a slutty eyebrow slit

[amymbona]

Criminal x detective au with a famous killer Patrick Zweig who's lowkey a Robin Hood kinda guy, stealing from the bad giving to the good, only killing capitalists and abusers and all the bad men. He's never been caught, a sly fox, always finding a way in and out. The whole FBI is after him, like he needs to be caught asap. But nobody seems to be getting even close to his trail.

Nobody but you. A shy but determined little detective, who has dedicated the last few years of her career to his case. You rarely ever go home to sleep, spending all the time in your office, trying to connect the hints, study his last burglaries and assassinations. He's so in your brain, completely filling your mind.

But the thing is, nobody has even seen his face before. You have some hints, that he's 6 foot 1 and has curly hair and a pointy nose, but honestly, that could be just any tall man. You're dreaming about an unknown man, a faceless entity who, for what you all know, could be a completely made up person to cover for a group of anarchists. Patrick Zweig has completely consumed your career, but your life too, and you're not only dedicated to catching him, but mainly uncovering whatever there is to be uncovered.

Until, one day, you wake up, tied to a chair and blindfolded in some cold basement, definitely not the comfort of your apartment. For long moments, you're left alone, left to ponder and trying to figure out whatever the fuck is going on. Is this some sick joke? A prank from your friends? Or have you actually been kidnapped?

Then you hear it, the door opens, and a pair of footsteps approached. "Who are you? Where am I?" you ask, but nobody responds. Instead, you feel a touch of a gloved hand on your cheek, on your shoulders, making you shiver. And you wonder, are you going to get killed today?

Not a single hair on your head is twisted, he never punches or slaps you, simply examines your face. Or so you guess, still unable to see a thing. "Finally we meet, detective." the first time he speaks, it sends shivers down your spine, the voice is low but kind of posh, very much confident, belonging to a unique individual.

Finally we meet? And who is the person standing in front of you? Is he a criminal you once wronged or a member of the sicilian mafia ordered to kill you? Unbeknownst to you, Patrick knows more about you than you know about him. He's been watching you, quite amused by your dedication. You're so different to all the other cops and detectives going after him. He can sense you want more and he's willing to give you that.

So he plays with you for a bit, giving you tricky questions and caressing your cheek with the sharp blade of his pocket knife, threatening to hurt you badly if you give him a wrong answer. He really isn't looking to hurt you duh, it's Patrick Zweig, he can't resist a tiny cut on your cheek Bone. He wipes the trail of blood with his gloved finger, licking it off and tasting the metallic leather in his mouth. Yummy.

It lasts for days, actually, at least you think so, and he's generous enough to bring you some water when he comes back. Unfortunately, you haven't earned any kind of luxury yet. It's amusing to see you struggle, to see you so afraid for your own life, and still stubborn, desiring to know more. In some sick sense, it turns the both of you on.

And finally, you guess it. The blood in your veins runs cold upon realising it is Patrick Zweig who has kidnapped you, who's holding you captive in his basement. The criminal you've been after for so many years, the man you've dedicated your whole career and life, as well, to. You should be afraid, you should be begging him to spare you and let you go. But no. You're excited.

"Be a good girl and nothing's gonna happen to you." he says, now standing behind you, his big palms planted on your trembling shoulders. "I know you want answers, so I'm gonna give you a chance to find them. But be careful, darling. One wrong move..." his hand suddenly wraps around your delicate neck, lightly squeezing it to the point when you gasp softly, eyes filling with tears under the blindfold. "One wrong move, Y/N, and I won't be able to hold back."

[malestransforming]

Hello generous one. You've blessed so many worlds with your talents. I'm a big fan of your writing skills too. Now what do I have to do to be your canvas that gets turned into a hunky model of a man?

snap

You made it! Welcome. Yes I know I transported you here instantly, but I find it’s nice to engage in some witty banter and greeting, especially if I’m about to alter your DNA and change you into an entirely different person! It helps lighten the mood a little bit.

Let’s get started, shall we? I’ve been thinking about your request and the words ‘hunky model’. I see a model as being cut, and tall and muscular but not too muscular. But hunky just adds a whole new dynamic to that. I think I know what I want to do with you? It might be something I just kind of make up as I go. Anyway…

fwip

Gone are your clothes! I am going to sculpt a perfect V shape from the top of your hips down to your groin. Those muscles are tight. I’ll inflate your thighs and legs with some really intense muscle. Actually, how about a little more… And a little more. And a little more. Okay, just a smidge more. Perfect. Squeeze your thigh. What a beauty.

Oh surprise! You got a tight butt too. Yeah, go ahead a clench it. Let me give it a squeeze too.

Abs? You got them. I’m changing the fat you’ve got into pure muscle. These are some really pretty abs. You’ll need them for all the underwear you’ll model. Pecs and chest will be moderately sized. Nothing over the top here. To be honest, I may have over done it with your thighs!

Just going to pump your arms up and boom! Look at those curvy muscles. You look so good. Now, I’m having a brainwave. I’m thinking… body hair! Kind of the opposite from models, maybe, but it’s going to look good on you, you’ll see. It’ll itch as it spreads across your torso, chest and stomach. Okay that might be too much hair. I’ll scale it back to just your chest and stomach. That looks great! You look rugged and handsome.

Face. Most models have pointy, thin faces. I don’t want that for you. Let’s shave your head down, angle your nose slightly and widen your jaw. Oh you look kind of Eastern European. Dark eyes, some facial hair. I like it.

You’re missing one final thing. You’re older now - I’m aging you up to late 30s. Don’t worry! I’ll put some memories in your head. Like this poor choice of tribal band tattoo on your right bicep. Your skin stings right? Look at your huge fucking arm - you have some ink now.

And you’re done! You’re a model, so not the smartest, but you’re not the dumbest either. I have your first thing you can mode right here. These yellow swimming trunks! Slip ‘em on and let me see you in them.

[28dayslater]

good evening to you all and welcome to cockmojo where tonight we will be counting down my personal top ten terror cocks

those unaffiliated with footyblr may be unfamiliar with the term cock as it’s being used here: all will become clear in time

special mention before we start to the netsilik hunter (sexy man, deserved a name and some screentime) james clark ross but only in the first episode when he’s all rugged and his beard’s grown out, and mr blanky, who, much like knife dad, fuccs like a broken train but he runs on time if you know what i mean

in a very respectable tenth place finish, billy gibson. i didn’t see the vision until 1. it was pointed out to me that he looks a lot like pau torres, who is himself very cockable, and 2. i rewatched the scene where he breaks up with hickey. known shagger, massive hater, a very pointy nose, he’s scraped a place on this list.

a surprise entry at ninth is john irving. inarguably cute in a sort of late 2000s british indie band bassist way, and while i’m not sure i could fix him (he probably needs a man for that) i do think i would have fun trying. ultimately he’s not higher because he’s kind of annoying and his eyebrows piss me off.

representing the dilves at eighth is doctor macdonald. he’s entrancing to me he has this vibe of like gentle paternal indulgence... like even if you were annoying he’d be very fond of you. and i need that. when he said “i’d like to run that man through” and rubbed his eyes and looked so tired, i really felt something. the crow’s feet, the widow’s peak, the hair, yes!!

doing it for the feminists, in seventh we have harry goodsir. the loveliest guy on the expedition until he goes nastymode, and i’m fully on board with both versions. this picture was chosen for a reason and it’s bc his long curly hair full beard miserable expression era was simply unbeatable. unfortunately, and this is maybe the most insane thing i’ve ever said about a man, or at least top ten, when his half eaten corpse was laid out face down, and it had noticeable back hair, i got the ick. just to add insult to injury :/

i’m as surprised as you are that he’s not higher, number six, james fitzjames! he is my pretty pretty princess. nails, hair, hips, heels. high femme queen in his cunty little outfits ordering the men around. i want to brush his hair, one hundred strokes minimum. i think this is less sexual than some others on this list, it’s more appreciation. but my god do i appreciate him.

stay alive, number five, it’s thomas jopson. most beautiful haunted doll in the arctic, but that pretty face is covering up a seriously compelling #WeirdGuy underneath. all the shiny hair in the world can’t hide an obsession with his boss that in the modern era would be getting him a very serious meeting with HR. what a character, servicetopson you rock my world. but at the end of the day he loses points because i hate the beard. garrigan looks great with a beard in other stuff, i really don’t know why the scurvybeard was so foul. terror hair and makeup department GET IT TOGETHER. 

number phwoar, henry collins is here! he’s big he’s sweet he’s deeply mentally unstable he needs a cuddle and we’ve all seen that gif of him in aliens. would love to make him a really nice cup of tea (seems like a two sugars man), pet his hair as he rests his head in my lap, then fuck up my hip flexors. 

and now... we enter our top three. who’s made it to the prestigious cock podium?

first up, the winner of our bronze cock medal, which presumably he’ll be flogging for an unreasonable price to someone he’s assured it’s solid gold, “cornelius hickey”! people will bitch and moan about how he’s a violent lunatic who’s killed people like i’m not a cuti romero stan 🙄 i can see beyond that, my third eye is firmly open. the potential for a fun toxic relationship is absolutely off the charts bc that’s the only kind he has. and he’s very pretty when he cries. i can forgive a lot of crimes for a man whose nose entrances me.

in second place, such a close runner up, i have to award this honour to edward little. a pedestrian choice, you might think, if you don’t know the lore. i couldn’t fully explain my feelings towards this secondary character who’s not especially exciting on first watch when i started the show until i googled his actor... although i lacked the words to express this at the time i was cocking this man when i was 13 and he first appeared in misfits with a stupid neck tattoo and a horrible suit, and i cock him again now. this is a cock that’s followed me all my life, even though i forgot he existed for about a decade in between. who else can truly say they’ve EARNED a spot on my list like he has? he’s sad, he’s sopping wet, i could make him cry extremely easily. mwah

and finally...

number one. it had to be him, it was always going to be him. solomon tozer, take a bow and i’ll take ten cranberry pills. sol is thee top cock for so many reasons and chief among them is versatility. whatever you need he can be it. handsome soldier boy in a fancy red uniform that shows off his trim little waist? COCK! hostile violent mutineer throwing his life away in a rebellion? COCK! broken man inducted into a cult who cries about it? COCK!!! sexiest man in the damn arctic i know he was beating the boys off with a stick. there is a certain level of sexiness a man can reach where nothing he does is an ick, and i knew he’d reached that for me once i saw him in that insanely stupid hat at sir john’s funeral and didn’t give a fuck. call him tom jones the way he can leave his hat on. keep thotting it up in heaven/hell king i miss you every day. i know it was huge. my heart hurts.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I can kind of see why Hyrule reads as imperialistic to you in totk, but why do they read white? Sonia is brown and rauru is a black goat. What makes the difference between them and Ganondorf so bad?

Hey, thanks for the ask!

So... I have an answer, and it's kind of in layers. So I hope it's fine if I kind of go on Journey TM where I figure out my own feelings on the topic alongside you, the person reading! It's long! Kind of meandery! Sorry!!

Also, I had written a great version of this reply to this ask that Tumblr fucking ate and I'm furious about it, so this version is slightly more annoyed as a baseline because of Tumblr and not the ask itself. But I got stubborn and decided I would rewrite the whole thing tonight. So.

Here we go.

Layer One: My Basic and Unfiltered Gut Reaction

My first, potentially unwarranted gut-level reaction would be: I kind of think it's a stretch to consider them POC-coded. Sonia gives me more tanned Ariana Grande vibes than anything else, but that's... I mean, I'm aware that there are brown people with lushious blonde hair and blue eyes out there, that race as USA-infused Internet understands it is Complicated (I'm half-brazilian, and even though I'm very very white and don't consider myself biracial but bicultural, I had people discussing my ethnicity to my face a non-zero amounts of time, including quite recently, including in my own family! so I super get that it's more complicated than what I make it out to be here). But given vibes don't count as an argument, I completely get + accept if that reading on her ethicity is therefore dismissed. She could very well be brown. Fine by me.

(so, I feel like I have to add this borderline-conspiratory reason why I'm suspicious of her skin color being considered a factor here, which can 100% be dismissed but I still want to bring it to the table: I've been to several meetings and heard about many instances where "diverse traits" are being handed over to characters with the explicit purpose of using that diversity as shields against deeper criticisms of core aspects of the storytelling instead of fixing the storytelling itself, and honestly it could very well be the case here. I really hope it's just the team thinking Sonia would be prettier with a darker skin tone, because her design is genuinely lovely and I really like it, wish she didn't die like immediately and had a character arc of her own, but. Imagine the kneeling scene with two very white ladies and everything else, etc. It might be overly paranoid of me, but I can't help but squint a little bit in this specific instance, especially since the biracial trait here is so toned-down that it's barely there and barely committed to anything. Which would also make a good argument against this suspicion too tbh! Anyway. Just wanted to bring that up so you get the whole picture of where my brain is at.)

Rauru... Okay. Here's the thing: I can't unsee The Rauru. The original one I mean (and his Skyward Sword Gaebora counterpart), aka: the White Patriarch of all times.

(this has nothing to do with anything but Link's little recoil animation here is so funny to me, like he looks so shocked and his nose is so pointy)

I do think that removing the origins of this character from his DNA for TotK is kind of overly convenient when discussing this iteration, especially when his role in this game is basically a mixture of OoT Rauru and the Unnamed King of Hyrule (and every king of Hyrule that came after). I mean, okay sure maybe the Unnamed, Unseen King of Hyrule wasn't white but... it's obviously not true, right? And while I understand this is a different iteration of that character, many characters in the series maintain their base ethnicity across different reimaginings (even Blue Pig Ganon remains a gerudo at heart post OoT, at least in the way we keep on understanding him). And beyond this, given the fact that Rauru retains this energy of a Founding Father (in the largest possible sense), I feel that, at the very least, that patriarchal energy is extremely important to his character to a core degree.

But even so, yes. Rauru is now indeed a Goat Man. Not only is he a Goat Man, but he dresses in ways that are very inspired by mesoamerican cultures; undeniably so. So that would make him at least mesoamerican-coded, right?

I mean... I guess? I guess. Sure. But. I have now to introduce the Layer 2 of my argumentation, which is that...

Layer Two: Zonai Culture is Hylian Coded

So. Pretty bold claim I know. Let me explain.

Now I certainly do not want to say that mesoamerican civilizations are not *everywhere* in the aesthetic inspiration for the zonai culture in Tears of the Kingdom; I'm sure these real life references are overflooding the moodboards, from the color palet to the symbols to the artstyle, the costumes and the buildings. It's the main way the game communicates zonai-ness to us the player. And it's great! I wish they had went even harder in that direction (I think there's even pretty dramatic differences between the zonai ruins on the surface, much more interesting imo, than what was done with the actual zonai architecture at its peak).

But now, I will ask a question that I asked myself often while playing. What is zonai culture, beyond the feathers and the indented patterns and the swirls and the dangly bits? What characterizes it? I would say that zonai civilization is primarily interested in automation, technology, mining to develop said technology, and things that float in the sky. Beyond this, and from the limited perspective the game gives us through Rauru and Mineru, we see a society ruled by a patriarch (neutral term, it is just patriarchal in nature), married to a woman who is a priestess and doesn't seem to hold an equal amount of power (she doesn't speak as much, seems content to handle the religious side of things), who values collaboration and engineering prowesses, has an army, servants, robot servants, administrates other races through, to be docile and go the game's way, collaborativeness... It's Hyrule. It's just Hyrule, except older and with a different paintjob; but at heart, the style of society upheld by Rauru is very (eerily?) similar to what we get to know in the TotK/BotW era. Actually, this version of Hyrule seems extraordinarily similar to the Hyrule we get to see in BotW pre-Calamity: replace the zonai technology with the sheikah's, and what's the difference --except that this later version of Hyrule isn't trying to pass itself off as perfect? Zelda doesn't experience any kind of culture shock. Even the language seems to be basically the same. It is Hyrule, because it is. It's the origins of the kingdom. This is the whole point of the zonais: being that familiar thing that we know and love, except more pristine and more glorious and more mysterious so we can be sad when it gets destroyed.

So is it aesthetically inspired by mesoamerican cultures? Yes. Does it evoke specific details about said culture? The way politics and religion interconnect perhaps (unless we consider Rauru coming from the gods as such, but it's nooot super specific and not really elaborated upon)? What that culture valued, or what we assume it once valued? Cultural shortcuts we tend to make with these cultures, for better or for worse? I may be extremely uncultured here, and if that's the case I apologize, but I never really saw any of the aspects highlighted as the core pillars of the zonais commonly associated with either mesoamerican ancient civilizations, or current living native decendants of these civilizations. The biggest connexion or shortcut I see is the "mysterious ancient advanced civilization", which is pretty vague and was honestly more convincing in BotW.

Then of course, it doesn't invalidate that connection. But now, as a point of comparaison, to see what happens when Zelda takes active steps in coding one of their fantasy races... Let's take a look at the gerudos, shall we?

(Urbosa appreciation break. She's just so freakin cool look at her goooo!!! okay now we can keep going.)

I have said my whole spiel about the gerudos about a bajillion times now so I will try to make it quick. My tl;dr is: gerudos were always meant to be culturally disruptive. It's their whole point in the Zelda series. I won't rehash the whole thing about the crescent moon, the orientalism etc, but I think it's important to remember that they are meant to be considered foreign in a way no other Zelda race ever is. What I mean by this is, if we return to OoT: they are the only race hostile to Hyrule enough to not only consider and carry out an invasion, but to forbid entrance to their territory if you are not one of them. They have a different (apparenly evil-looking) god and their ears are rounded when everyone else is some sort of elf, their script is different, their cultural values are different, it's a weird semi-matriarchy where the man-king's occasional patriarchy has a very different social role than the king of Hyrule even if we don't get to see all the details... Won't return on the thievery and the 90s islamophobic kick of that time period, but the gerudos were very obviously crafted to be culturally deviant to the Hylian norm; their difference so great that getting accepted by them is an actual fighting and infiltration challenge. And even though they are much friendlier in TotK/BotW, they are still, by far the most innaccessible and different race out of all the rooster of, and it's worth mentioning, fish-people, bird-people and rock-people. They are the only one with their own language, their own strict rules that oppose your freedom as a player, a series of side-quests that directly address the subject of culture clash and differences; and, even then, they still parallel the real life western fantasy about the Orient TM (even more-so in TotK I would say, which I didn't love): the locked-in harem foreign men are forbidden to enter. This core idea is so entrenched that it becomes gameplay.

When it comes to Ganondorf, the parallel remains, more present than ever: in that game he gets to embody the foreign, cruel, brutal, cunning, manipulative, uncomfortably feminine at times, envious, physically intimidating, oppressive Man of the Desert in a long tradition of Men from the Desert and the rich legacy of literature and movies that portray them. It's not new to TotK, to be very clear: but TotK did double-down on the trope at the cost of Ganondorf's specificity as a character instead of questioning the trope that birthed him the way the series had tried to do in the past (even TP wasn't that bad, doing away with a lot of the baggage altogether --for better and for worse).

So to me... saying that zonais are mesoamerican-coded, in a world where we simply do not actively interact with these cultures all that much anymore (not at all to minimize the very real oppression of their descendants and the extreme and sickening violence their ancestors were met with to be extremely clear --I'm just saying that the violence wouldn't have worldwide cultural resonance in the same way and I don't think would have much reality in Japan unless, again, I'm saying dumb things and in that case please do correct me), or the extremely mild and non-invested way Zelda handled these cultures (to me it's much more costume than coding), positively too (good!), and comparing them to the active coding of the gerudos (and especially Ganondorf) as a means to equalize them as "basically the same thing" feels... a little off to me.

But! Now we're getting to the last layer!!

(you have no idea how long I searched for this gif, I typed "Ganondorf kneeling" in the gif search, like a fool, and parsed through much, much horniness to finally find my little dude anyway layer 3!!!)

Layer Three: It Isn't What Actually Matters Now Is It (at least according to me, the person writing this post)

Honestly, I don't really care whether Rauru and Sonia are white-coded or not. They could be, they could not be, cool by me either way. I don't really care if the zonai culture is meant to stand-in for mesoamerican cultures for Real for Sure or not, and heavily doubt it was done to increase diversity (otherwise Rauru wouldn't be, like, a Goat-Man but just a brown man). I do appreciate the visual diversity of the cast of NPCs, that hylians can look like a whole number of people and it's really cool Hyrule is moving into that direction instead of being very typecast into a sort of Japanese-ish representation of western middle ages/fantasy/fairy tale thing.

But at heart, what bothers me between this whole dynamic has less to do with whom is coded as whom than the fact that this game twisted itself into knots to tell a very suspiciously clean story about its complicated world and complicated history, and I feel like it's completely fine to ask for more than the bare minimum of visual representation and question the way these characters get to interact with each other and how their real life struggles are meaningfully talked about in the worlds Nintendo spend millions crafting? Sometimes, what they do is already great! Sometimes it's half-great! Most of the time, it could be so much better --especially when some of these subjects have been talked about to death for over 25 years (sorry to beat that dead horse one more time btw)

At the end of the day, the story itself is strange for many reasons. The power dynamic between the characters is attempting to be several things at once; maybe it's not on purpose, but either way, the world TotK paints is a strange one that only holds itself together if we accept to take it at face value. Which we don't have to.

And to me, TotK felt particularly shallow in that specific department of representation due to the whole... Imperialist Vibes thing (the other ask about this is queue'd, it's coming!), which nullified a lot of these efforts for me. It's not only about who's represented, but how they are represented as well, and, very importantly, why.