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#and no one can tell me other wise <3
wikagirl · 9 months
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I finished the less important side characters. Just wanted to draw them so I had a visual ref for when I write them.
From left to right we have:
Nicolle, Gabriellas aunt and thus her fathers younger sister. She's the middle child and as you might be able to tell from her outfit, a professional ice skater. The glitter on her dress is supposed to represent a rising phoenix, a metaphor for being "reborn" after having to drop out of skating for a while due to overexhaustion and burn out and coming back better than ever. Her career is her life, she will not talk about anything else ever. Her sister does her hair for her.
In the middle we have Alexandra, the youngest sister to Nicolle and Gabriellas father. She does heavy wheight lifting, owns a sports clothing brand and organizes sports programms to teach people that sport can be fun without needing to be competitive or for wheightloss purposes. Also graphic eyeliner is a must and her outfit is inspired by 4-time olympic gold winner Serena Williams' adorable poofy tennis outfits. Sports wear can be cute and practical. For her physique I references Emily Campbell, britains first ever medal winning womens olympic wheightlifting candidate
And last we have Waylen. Waylen is an adrenaline junkie and a member of the Hale pharma private military. He has a whole arsenal of prosthetics for different pruposes and yes those are mantis blades from cyberpunk and the prosthetic legs are inspired by that one lady from the first kingsman. He went through so many body modificatiosn that the constant switching out of parts, medications post surgeries and his overall very low self preservation instincts took a bit of a toll on his body so now he has to permanently wear the bottom part of his airfilter mask or else he will literally suffocate. All the foods he consumes must be liquid and snorkeled in through a straw and a little hatch at the front of his mask. Thanks to the previously mentioned issues he has a almost non existant feeling of hunger, meaning that he often only realizes he should eat when it's allready to late and he tips over sideways. Depending on how much coffee he has in his system he can be a representaion of every song in the misery/cpr/reeses puffs mix. The only reason for why he hasn't been kicked out of the military and sent to early retirement yet is because he's good for the morale and knows what he's doing as long as he's in a team, on his own he suddenly looses all those braincells and turns into a "stealth is optional? nice *explosions*" type bingus.
#myart#ocs#I used to hate sports growing up because in school everything was competitive#and outside of school everything seemed to be with the sole purpose of loosing wheight#in fact you can be quite active in sports and still not loose a pound simply because muscle is heavier than fat#and also because diet plays more into wheightloss than training#so to everyone who keeps calling people who don't look “normal” (notice the “”) lazy and unhealthy: plz shut the fuck up and die <3#you know absolutely nothing about the people you're looking at. their body their choice and now do me the favour and fall off a cliff#I'm really sick and tired of people trying to police other peoples bodies AND FEELINGS ABOUT THEIR BODIES under the guise of care#as you might be able to tell I didn't put as much work into these as the others since they are only side characters#that will only pop up once or twice#also since gigi is as ashy and pasty as the rind of a parmesan cheese and her aunties are significantly darker you can probably guess#she is mixed with her mom being what would be asian on planet earth and her dad is mixed black and something secret#and with something secret I mean this is still a work in progress#he'll be the bestest of best dads none of that toxic father figure bs in my house#he is inspired by christopher judge who was literally one of my childhood heroes in his role as teal'c in stargate btw#visually and personality wise I mean#a strong but still kind and caring for those he holds dear. maybe a bit odd to outsiders :3#tw eating issues#tw ed#kinda#bc of waylens digestive situation?#side characters
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zanathan-aisling · 1 year
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cat hacker reintroduces mspec lesbian discourse into my life my brain obliterates itself in ocd-fueled recursive self-argumentation
#‘noones identity lives in a bubble and the self-id of others DOES effect broader culture and cause potential ramifications’#and#‘jfc i’m not the center of the god damn universe and REGARDLESS of whatever petty semantic preference i have towards ‘my’ definition that#doesn’t mean shit for other people + the idea that queer people can be ‘invalidated’ or ‘excluded’ is fucking STUPID that isn’t how queers#work we aren’t a fucking club we can kick people out of for not doing things ~correctly~’#can seemingly coexist in my brain but they keep biting each other#oh and in addendum to the first one ‘my lesbianism is fundamentally disinterested in men as both ID and interest to the point that it has#can feel (<- FEEL) like active misgendering to imply its definitionally compatible with other conceptions of the word.#not to mention the whole ‘i can’t even fucking figure out how my sexuality treats bigender people at all. like i’m consciously fine with#them from a like… impersonal framework but LUST-WISE it feels like dividing by zero. i don’t know. fucking logic puzzle ass shit.’#ON MY END I’M FUCKING MISGENDERING SOMEONE EITHER WAY ITS. GAH. HELP#IT MAKES ME FEEL BADLY PROGRAMMED. CAN’T EVEN HANDLE A LITTLE GENDER FUCKERY. INFANT BRAIN.#you can pry my ID from my cold dead hands and if you imply its bigoted or ~separatist~ in origin i’ll fucking gut you. but also teehee its#just MY id and you can ID however you want just don’t tell me how to identify sparkle sparkle~<3#but also my id IS mutually exclusive of yours definitially and WILL cause problems going forward from a clerical & organizational standpoint#homonym ass queer theory relied on by a fucking spineless little shit who refuses to take a hard stance for what she believes is right OR c#correct. the spineless coward is me. by homonym i mean the same word and spelling meaning different things to different people to the point#it might as well not be same word at all#‘i think my definition of lesbian is objectively better and wish people using other definitions would please stop but ALSO if you think less#of other people for using other definitions i will beat your skull in with a rock you bitch’ is. what i boil down to.#‘i think inclus vs exclus language is stupid and not how the lgbt+ community works but going by the logic i don’t like the existence of the#ID but also literally almost all my bestest friends in the world are inclus on the subject and despite my semantic arguments i don’t disagre#disagree with them. i still pray every night that i might wake up to a world where my actual opinions are unnecessary and my consciousness k#knows pure unchallenged peace though’#while also recognizing that dream of personal peace by way of ignorance of the identity of others is pretty fucking selfish lol#i keep writing addendums. this can go on forever.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#sometimes i feel very normal and then i interact with ppl lol#i had an in person meeting with my boss for the 1st time in ages and i usually talk to ppl while theyre driving or were walking somewhere#so i forgot how much im like obviously not making eye contact when ppl talk to me while hunched over and fidgeting lol#and when im trying to explain ideas to ppl abt like data stuff im like: i dont understand how what im saying doesnt make sense???#also with a healthy dose of wtf is this person trying to say to me? u r saying words and i dont kno what theyre directed at#we had a lab party and im like v awkward at those things. idk how to interact in groups#ppl r interacting and im watching like u r clearly getting something out of this that i am not#i did maybe secure a place as a patient for one of our undergrads who is in the dental school lol#she was like yea i need 8 patients and i was like lol u can look in my mouth and then proceeded to tell her all the weird teeth problems#ive had. maybe that was weird but she seemed interested so 🤷#i hope she follows up bc i havent been to the dentist in like 3 years#and i still habe my wisdome teeth#lol me at any party: i am waiting patiently until i can leave.#like its weird bc those r the time when ppl bond and make memories and all that but everytime someone calls back to events that ive been#there fore it baffles me bc im like. yea that was a thing that happened. i dont really have any feelings abt it so idk y u r recalling it#fondly??? plus my ears r kinda fucked so it was hard to focus on individual conversations#ay im so scatterbrained. thats what happens when u get little sleep and dont allow ur self to chill. ill just crunch myself into a lil ball#at least my boss tried to reassure me that id get accepted somewhere phd wise. but i will not relax until its official so rip#i just really want 2 specific schools to work out bc one is close to home and the other i can prob get good classes and opportunities#ugh i need to sleep. but im not tired :-P#unrelated
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peapod20001 · 1 year
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Cracks me tf up how Ozzie is literally. He looks exactly how he did when I first drew him
#random post#the only *real* differences are cus. I draw differently now than I did early 2021 😭#overall his colors and shapes are p much the same lol like the others? very noticeably different#he was just always cool ig lmao#yknow what? they all at least. you can tell who is who#hand their colors have been relatively consistent (ignoring that first drawing with August I literally didn’t know wtf I was doing lol)#THE FRUIT DADS ARE. 2 YEARS OLD NOW???#WHAT!!! THE FUCK MAN!!!! 😭#and they still have their signatures (by that I mean they still have their like. shticks)#(like Max was always the big dark creepy cool fucker. Ozzie was mad for no apparent reason)#(Blondee was chill and tired. August was always kinda silly/weird with a NEED to be with people)#(goose was always sweet and clueless and gangly)#but they’ve definitely changed a lot too! especially August lmao like he used to be the token straight guy but then I gave him 8 boyfriends#to compensate for my crimes </3#and I definitely made them more like the ages they are (40’s) both looks wise and how they act (I try to at least lol)#I definitely made their personalities better. sorry but they weren’t. exaggerated and cool enough back then </3#and I made August and Goose cousins and August and Blondee ex’s (I am ignoring that one post with August friend flirting goose. I don’t see)#overall they’re more fleshed out (both character wise and. they’re thicker now GAGGABAGAH)#and it’s p easy for me to write dialogue with em now! I know how they go about talking and their mannerisms and more or less how they feel#about certain topics/people/things. woof. they’ve come a long way I really need to draw a really good group shot of them...#ok I kinda got sidetracked and forgot what point I was trying to make lmao but!! love the fruit dads!! love the fruit daughters!! sometimes#it just takes a year to get things situated!! 😭
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roseband · 3 months
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celestialscatterbrain · 3 months
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1. Natal Chart Observations
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1. Libra Moon: decision paralysis that comes from feeling two contradicting ways about an issue. “I want my cake but I want to eat it too.” I feel like libra moons are the most sentimental of the air moon signs. Libra moons can constantly weigh out the pros and cons for every emotion you feel. “I want to do this but I don’t want to deal with how messy it’ll make things.” When libra moons are feeling a little lost, they can over-schedule themselves and their commitments to friends to avoid thinking about overly-vulnerable feelings. There is zero tolerance for imbalance in relationships. Poor behavior from a partner will be met with matched behavior to tip the scales back to a balanced one, even if the overall locational of the scale is descending into negativity. “You get what you give” mentality. Libra moons can be keen on the idea of karma. “Come to me with sweetness, or don’t come to me at all.” Daydreaming about romance is a relaxing way to pass time. Before maturity, libra moons might suffer from social anxieties when they find themselves in group settings where there isn’t a cohesive vibe. If someone around a libra moon doesn’t look like they are having a good time, it subconsciously makes it difficult for a libra moon to relax. The libra moon will then play the role of a diplomat or host/hostess to ensure the vibes equalize to restore their peace.
2. Mars in the 10th house: these natives are always making money. They are known for their side hustles too. They are always looking for new ways to make money and I feel like they are good at getting clientele. They will get their hands dirty for their job. For a man, this can point to a “blue collar ‘manly’ job.” I noticed 10H mars can be pretty generous with their money and services, but feel extremely terrible about getting help from others. If these natives aren’t confident where they are in their career or skill set(s), I noticed that they are likely to undersell themselves or undercharge for their services/time. It can also point to people in the workplace as perceiving the 10H mars person to be brash and outspoken. The authority figures in their career can feel a sense of competition with the 10H mars person, or wants to humble them in some way. I feel like it’s really easy for them to get good jobs or climb up the ladder when they do things the right way. They get impatient when they aren’t growing in their careers as fast as they want to. “Why am I not a millionaire yet.” They work hard for what they want and are very ambitious once they find their niche. I feel like these are often people who can find jobs that don’t necessarily need a degree. Their career mistakes feel explosive. They can be seen as “sharks” in their fields because they go in for the attack. They like to be the best and the most competent at what they do, and want their colleagues to see them as competition. “I’m the best and no one will tell me otherwise.” They can be known for being assertive and extremely determined in meeting their goals. They will work themselves to the core and utilize all their energy towards elevating themselves career and reputation wise.
3. Mars in the 1st House: These people might often be noticed for their bodies. They might be seen as someone you shouldn’t mess around with. They look athletic. Maybe they are known for fitness or for being athletic. These natives can be associated with the military, and probably look incredible in their uniforms. This is a man-eater or womanizer placement, for sure. “I get what I want when I want it.” They look like they have a rough exterior, even if they are sweethearts. They can be into martial arts. Commanding presence. They can make wonderful personal trainers. Regardless of gender, they can come off as being comfortable with their masculine energy. Reds look great on them. They might have thick eyebrows and a nice jawline. They look attractive when they are angry. They know how to make someone feel sexy. They have people chasing them or falling for them fast.
4. Pisces and 12th house placements: these people have no problem ghosting you. Pisces placements and 12H placements are always made out to be innocent and naive, but they are attracted to people and situations that have something a little “bad” about them. Savior complex. They can go through feelings where they feel detached from social settings and those they love, where they cannot fully escape the role of observer. They will always be able to fully escape into their internal landscape and get consumed by it— but it seems as though no matter how hard they try, they can’t have that same presence in the material world. This can lead to frustrating feelings of disconnection from the world and people around them. They can be smiling and staring off, but you will never fully know what they are thinking. They can make people really curious about them, because their thoughts always catch you off guard. Having an existential crisis on the daily. Casual things might have a bigger internal meaning to them that others might not always understand. We can find plenty of people attractive, but if the spark isn’t felt in the soul and doesn’t pique a deep curiosity, we will get bored and swim away. Liking people who are a bit “mean and dark” but wanting them to be sweet and soft with you. Using music to paint your daydreams, or to escape. Finding music that relates almost entirely to whatever they have on their mind feels like striking gold. They can like someone just for having the same interests as them. Feeling like a ghost in a flesh suit. Enigmatic. Can embody different vibes and personas depending on who they are around. They are sensitive and can adapt to the situations at hand. Too much self awareness can lock them in their heads. “I only jump into waters with the depth of an abyss.” Laying down for hours just to daydream and process your thoughts. Long baths feel like therapy. Moderation isn’t in our vocabulary. We love what we like, and we want to get lost in what we love. Not being able to properly process your day or interactions until you’re alone and can replay them in isolation.
5. Taurus Placements: I noticed Taurus moon women get spoiled financially by their partners. The type for their partners to say “don’t worry, I’ll work and you can be at home,” or that being their partners goal at a point. I noticed Taurus placements can enjoy the occasional shoplifting. They are not going to compromise their comfort, and if you come after that it will be met with intense stubbornness. They can seem nonchalant about a lot of things, but can be extremely unwavering in their opinions on certain things. In some cases, they can have strange eating habits or relationship to food. Thankfully, the Tauruses I’ve been around don’t project that on those around them. It’s more internal from what I’ve noticed, and they can enjoy feeding those they love and care for. They can have great taste in food. They love sensual vices and sex. They look great with pearls. They master an aesthetic and can stick to it. They are fiercely protective of those they love. They can be lazy at their worst and will not want to do anything that requires too much effort. They can be impressively good at couponing. Making money from home is the ideal setup for them. They will spoil their loved ones too, and can be great gift givers. They don’t cheap out with presents for their loved ones. They get much enjoyment from decorating their spaces and hosting their loved ones. They can be prone to overthinking and some may obsessive behaviors or crippling anxiety as well. They can honestly make the best scammers, as terrible as that sounds. They can sell someone a dream and make it sound beautiful, but can be lying through their teeth. Their jealousies can sometimes come from a place of vanity. Watch out for envying others, and appreciate your own beauty. They can focus so much on the beauty around them they forget about their own. They can be the image of beauty and grace, or strive deeply for that. They have pretty and soothing voices. Taurus placements can easily be the funniest person you know when they are in a joyful mood. I also noticed Taurus placements are wonderful at finding vintage pieces and re-selling them!
-D
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messylustt · 10 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words
fic masterlist previous part pt three next part
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miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?
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“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.
“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.
“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”
The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.
“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.
“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”
You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”
There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”
“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”
“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.
“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.
“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”
In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…
—this morning—
You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.
When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.
You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.
You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.
You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.
“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”
You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.
You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.
When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”
You nod. “I heard you.”
“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”
“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”
“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”
You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.
“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”
He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.
;;
After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.
When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.
He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.
You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.
“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.
His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.
“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.
“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.
You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.
“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.
“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”
“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.
You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.
“O’hara.”
His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.
“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”
“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.
He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.
You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“
“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)
You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.
“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.
You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”
“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”
Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”
Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”
“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.
“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”
“How so?”
You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.
A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.
“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”
“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.
“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.
“Bien.” You answer.
“Mejor.”
“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”
“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”
“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.
“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.
“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”
He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.
—present—
“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.
There’s finally silence on the other end.
“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”
You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.
Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.
You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.
Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.
He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.
Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.
And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.
“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.
You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.
You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.
“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.
And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.
Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.
He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.
He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.
He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.
“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.
You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.
“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”
Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.
“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.
You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.
“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.
He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.
You stare at him, not moving.
He raised a brow. “You look worried.”
“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.
“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.
You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”
“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.
You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”
“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.
You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”
“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.
“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.
You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.
You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.
Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”
“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“
“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”
“You can say no.”
You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.
You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.
You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.
Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.
“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”
“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.
“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.
A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”
You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.
You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”
Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.
You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.
But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.
“I made plans with spider-man—“
“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.
You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.
“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.
“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“
“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.
“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.
The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?
He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”
“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“
“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.
A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.
You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.
You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.
So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.
“Hey.” You smile.
“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.
“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.
“No worries, thanks Peter.”
“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.
Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.
As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.
I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.
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ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise
I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright @pix-stuff
#2 taglist
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hanwiore · 3 months
Text
Choso was fairly…boring.
His life revolved around nothing but knowledge, video games and on some occasions books.
But oh when he met you, he was all about you. Loved how every 2-3 weeks you’ll get a different hair style and even different nails in different aesthetics.
He loved the way you smell and how fucking sweet you were, personality wise and pussy wise. And he loved how fucking well you treated him.
Especially now, as he laid back against your dark green satin pillows with your thick lips kissing right below his ear
“Like this baby?” Your French tip with light pink bows scrape against his abs. His breath stuttering and ragged. “Y-yea, a little l-lower.”
You were teaching him how to tell you what he wants. He just needed the comfort. The validation.
Your thumb trails down his neat happy trail but stops at his pubic bone, “right here?”
His hips twitched and he bites his lips, dark hair all over his forehead and slightly covered his eyes. Pink lips trembling like he wanted to cry. “N-nah I need it lower.”
You smiling knowingly at him, your lips move up his cheek and now your eye level with him. “Can’t you just tell me baby? I wanna make you feel so good.”
Choso thinks he can cum like this, cum with your fingers tickling his lower stomach, with your smell invading his privacy
“On my dick- fuck y-yes!” Once his words came out your fingers are on it,
His dick so heavy it didn’t even stand to full capacity, just leaking pre-cum and twitching after every inconvenience.
“F-faster mama, stroke it faster.” His fingers are gripping the sheets now, face red as he moans on your lips. You peck him slightly and he chases your lips once you move back.
“You’re soaking up my hand, it’s so sticky I can fucking hear it.” One of your hands circling messily over his wet tip while the other hand grips his balls.
His sweaty stomach clenches and unclenches all of five times before his hips start moving sloppily up against your hand, “m’ gonna f-fuckin cum. S-shit.” His eyes look at your breast that was covered in your white tank top and then your pussy lips that swallowed your purple panties “h-haah f-fuck! fuck fuck-“
Hot cum spurting everywhere, sliding down his abs and your fingers.
“Cum again in my mouth yea?”
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Text
I Want It All: Part 1
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Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Flirting, Light Angst, Longing
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?
A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!
Word Count: 4.8K
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The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable. 
On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply. 
“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile. 
Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”
All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion. 
He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”
Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features. 
“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”
A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.” 
You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.” 
“Teasing minx.” 
“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained. 
You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal? 
It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious. 
“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.” 
Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile. 
A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”
“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”
The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”
Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”
She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”
“Guilty.”
“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”
You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.” 
Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do.  Thirty minute set. You eat after.” 
She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain. 
It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining. 
“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you. 
“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.” 
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.” 
“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered. 
“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.” 
You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach. 
He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you. 
Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.
A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him.  You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more. 
It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least. 
Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you. 
A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight. 
With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room. 
You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed. 
As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience. 
Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring. 
Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.  
Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room. 
Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter. 
Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared. 
You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest. 
He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink. 
You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it. 
A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song. 
You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony. 
You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.
Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended. 
You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace.  By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this. 
As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin. 
“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”
“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”
“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”
You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.” 
The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”
The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.
“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”
He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips. 
You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least. 
“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”
You snorted out a laugh.
“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”
You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.” 
He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.” 
You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning. 
He raised a tankard to you in toast.
You met the gesture in acknowledgment. 
“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted. 
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun. 
“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.
“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.” 
You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same. 
“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”
Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”
You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.
He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”
Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.” 
It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life. 
You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.  
“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed. 
You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.  
           “I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended. 
Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.” 
“Says you.” 
“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”
“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”
“Oh yes, that’s much better.”
You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away. 
Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be. 
“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject. 
“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned. 
Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.” 
Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.” 
You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were. 
“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”
You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder. 
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.” 
You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay. 
“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”
She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it. 
“What is this?”
“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”
You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces. 
With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings. 
It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.
Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes. 
It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.  
The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest. 
You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right. 
Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond. 
“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”
“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands. 
The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”
Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”
She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”
You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions. 
Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin. 
You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons. 
The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.
The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence. 
You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries. 
The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been. 
You took another step. 
The stones followed. 
Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling. 
A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench. 
As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor. 
The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music. 
You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp. 
You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music. 
Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller. 
No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream. 
You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.
Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again. 
You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes. 
Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself. 
An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else.  Even the music had gone dead. 
For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark. 
A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin.  No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.
The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe. 
A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air. 
You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles. 
The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence. 
With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own. 
You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism. 
The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.
He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle. 
After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.
The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light. 
The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you. 
You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you.  He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure. 
His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.
He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. 
The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin. 
You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago.  Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression. 
They’d seen it. All of it. 
Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think. 
Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood. 
You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye. 
“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said. 
To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head. 
“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”
You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party. 
There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction. 
Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale. 
“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat. 
“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. 
“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently. 
“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added. 
Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything. 
“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.
“What?” she snapped. 
Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. 
“That was…me?” 
You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.
In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible. 
“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.” 
You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you. 
Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity. 
The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing? 
You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be. 
Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet. 
As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you. 
You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.
With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.
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harmoonix · 6 months
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🌃Starchild Astrology Notes🌃
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🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠~🌠
🌃 - 9th house can show how you get along with your spouse family esp brother or sister in law (You can also look at the planets and the ruler of the 9th house)
Moon or Venus in the 9th house = You can along good with your spouse family especially the mother of feminine figures in their family
Sun in the 9th house = The same thing as the moon but you tend to get along more with their brother or father
Jupiter in the 9th house = Shows that the majority of your sp family likes you, you are likable in their family
Mercury in the 9th house = Shows you have great communication with your sp family, like you tend to call eachother a lot and talk about the things in your life
Mars/Saturn/Pluto in the 9th house = Here these planets can bring a bit of intensity in your sp family, like they tend to be more curious and suspicious in a way. But don't forget that aspects also matter
Uranus in the 9th house can be an indicator of being the different one, they see you different an unique, like your sp family can be very traditional and you can be the one who is more different/unique
Neptune in the 9th house is an indicator of making an bounding with them, like you tend to be close and appreciated
(If you have an empty 9 House look at the ruler planet (for example, Cancer in the 9th house =Moon)
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🌃 - S.O.S message to everyone with Pluto/Saturn or Lilith in the 11th house, take care what people you have around because you have a magnetic energy around you and that attracts people but also betrayers (So take care💙)
🌃 - Lilith/Saturn/Neptune in the 6th house can often get into sad moods because they absorb every single energy in the room so they can often be moody
🌃 - Lilith harshly aspecting Moon indicates an hurt inner child or an painful childhood, is not easy to talk about your young ages but is important to know that you are strong 🩷
🌃 - What energy does your Moon Sign has based on the Ying/Yang ☯️ element
Fire and Air Moon reprsent the Yang energy (the white part)
Water and Earth Moon represent the Ying energy (the black part)
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🌃 - Moon in the 4th, 8th or 12th house show great spirituality level and highly intuitive mind, they can also tend to sense paranormal activities
🌃 - Aquarius Placements or Aquarius in big 3 are big humanitarian people, they love to help with everything they can to make the world a better place for the future
🌃 - Cancer Venus/Venus in the 4th house can be shy around their crushes, and often they can get anxious when they are near them
🌃 - Gemini Venus/Venus in the 3rd house love to flirty and to make a good first impression to the people they like. I can't lie some of them are so cute while flirting that I can't take them serious 😭🫶🏼
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🌃 - 10°, 22° degrees in a man's Ascendant chart can make him an gentleman, like that type of man who is very respectful, serious and polite
🌃 - 4°, 16°, 28° degrees on your ascendant, let me tell you that you have very beautiful eyes and people can often get lost in your eyes while they talk to you
🌃 - 9°, 21° degrees on your ascendant can make the native an very wild spirit, they love adventure and getting wild, they may also love to be in the wild places
🌃 - Mercury at Leo Degrees (5°, 17°, 29°) have a very lovely voice, they know how to talk politely enough to charm someone
🌃 - Based on my experience Cancer, Pisces and Libra and Aquarius placements tend to be more forgivable than others, like they would be the type of people who can give you a 2nd chance and will try to make you an better person
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🌃 - Moon/South Node or Sun in the 9th house/ 12th house can indicate an person who's soul is very wise and energetic, they are "travelers in time or past". Meaning that they can have dreams about their past lives but aswell about their future
🌃 - Chiron aspecting the South Node can indicate wounds coming to you from your past life, possibly it can mean some things you didn't had time to heal in your past life
🌃 - You can feel lazy when Saturn is transiting your 1st or 6th house, esp if is transitioning your 6th house you can have depression moments often
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- Ascendant persona chart short observations
🌃 • Venus in your 1st or 10th house in your ascendant persona chart can be an indicator of great beauty and good looking appearance
Jupiter in your 10th house in your ascendant persona chart can help you a lot with achieving your succes in career faster
Mercury in your 5th house in the asc persona chart can show an potential actor at voice dubbing or just tend to have a childish voice
Libra Asc in your asc persona chart gives you wonderful hair
Mars in your 8th house in your asc persona chart can indicate an person with high libido
Sun in the 1st house in your asc persona chart shows likable personality by people and appreciated for their character
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- Hellooooo to all it is such a good day to post some Starchild Post 🌃 since is autumn now the stars can be seen more clearly in the sky (esp if you live in the north area of the earth)
🌃 The sky is beautiful so you are all who read this post today or in any other day, don't forget that you are beautiful no matter what 🌃
🌃 Have a great day to everyone reading my post
-Harmoonix 🌃🌃🌃
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phantomarine · 8 months
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Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic
Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.
1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode
You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.
But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.
Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.
2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity
Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.
But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.
Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!
3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!
The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."
You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.
I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.
But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."
Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!
---
That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!
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thesirencult · 4 months
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Pick A Card : Your Inner Goddess
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"How would you behave if you knew you were a God or Goddess? How would you treat yourself, how would you treat others? What kind of consciousness would you hold about your smallest actions if you knew their effects influenced the rest of creation? If your awakenings could bring joy to the multitudes? What kind of mindfulness would that inspire?"
- Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind: Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self
Within each woman there lies a Goddess. Within you there lies a force to be reckoned with.
She awaits the moment you find her and she awakes.
Take the messages with a grain of salt. First and foremost trust your intuition and your inner Goddess...
Within each pile you will find what your inner goddess craves, how you can service her and what's holding her back.
Pile 1
The Hierophant, The Sun, The Empress
Your inner Goddess is craving warmth and care. A daring little lady she is. She reminds me of P!nk in the music video of U+Ur Hand.
She is sitting pretty with her book and she is not easily impressed. Maybe because she can do EVERYTHING she puts her heart and soul into. Very wise and commanding, yet feminine and seductive.
Your inner Goddess wants you to realize that you deserve abundance and happiness. You need to work on your Solar Plexus. I get that I should also talk to you about your adrenals. You have been hustling for a long time and the Goddess wants you to sit your pretty booty down and take a moment to breathe and realize that you are right on time. Go get it panther!
Pile 2
The Fool, The Star
Wow. This is a very airy energy. Your inner Goddess is here to see and experience everything. She loves being vulnerable and wants to push you out of your comfort zone.
She dares to dream about a better future and she wants to tell you that if you don't dream it and belive it you mights as well not even try.
Just do it, she says, and dives straight out the cliff. She always manages to survive and those negative voices feel jealous that the "naive" Goddess makes the best decisions right on the spot. Trust your intuition and inner Wisdom.
Pile 3
3 Of Cups, The Star, 10 Of Swords, Queen Of Wands
I don't know why, but your inner Goddess gives me "black cat energy" or Scorpio energy. She is that seductive voice that whispers "do it now, analyze it later".
She is affectionate and loves a good foot rub. Your inner Goddess has been through it. She has been accompanying you for SEVERAL lifetimes and she could have been the black cat to your Cleopatra back in ancient Egypt.
I feel like we should not play around with this one cause she might whip us up. Lol. Your inner Goddess comes out during "playtime" if you know what I mean. Look at your Lilith cause she is a lot like that placement in your chart. Alien yet homely. She can be either a storm or a beautiful river. Beware, she scratches anyone that dares hurt you. Payback's a bitch, so is Mrs. Catwoman here.
P.S. Get that sexy leather bra and that rose tattoo. Tie up your man/woman and have fun ! xoxo.
Pile 4
4 Of Cups, The Chariot
Hello brat! No worries, we can all be brats sometimes *wink,wink*.
Little lady, your inner Goddess is FED UP. She is a go getter and she is done watching you be a pessimist. She wants you to get some fuel into this fire.
Your Venus sign can be indicative of what your inner Goddess is like. She is pretty private and this can indicate issues with how you express her energy. All in all, she comes up when you think of what makes you grateful ! Feed her!
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kyemna · 2 months
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Hazbin Hotel headcanons
TW: Mentions of sex and alcohol. some suggestive themes that's it, it's mostly just fluff.
(English isn't my first language)
Charlie
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-Will do anything for you.
-you want flowers? Done. You saw a cute stuffed animal in the store front and you want it? You got it. Somebody harassed you on the streets and you want them punished? Let her take care of it. Normally she's against violence, but when it comes to protecting you? She'll do anything.
-will sing to you, all the time
-made a special song that she sings to you when you've had a bad day
-the best listener ever.
-will sit and listen to you talk for hours
-if she needs to get to work early, she'll make you breakfast and leave you a note that says something like:
-hi, good morning lovely! I hope you sleep well.
I had to leave early.. something happened at the hotel while Alastor was away, and they needed me.
See you 2night, i love you:)<3
-i think her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation
Angel Dust
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-whisper's provocative things to you during meetings
-definitely a physical touch kind of guy.
-Will cling to you at the most random times
-keeps Valentino as far away from you as possible.
-tries his best to keep his relationships hidden from him as well
-if you'd come home after a long day, he'd give you a massage
-is super funny, tell me otherwise.
-has a high sex drive, and is pretty kinky due to his job.
-so expect him to ring you up at the most unexpected times.
-PS. Don't put him on speaker when you're in public..
Vaggie
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-was pretty cautious around you in the beginning, but slowly warms up to you
-once she's comfortable, she tells the wildest stories and acts them out for you
-if you don't know how to fight, she'll teach you
-if you do know how to fight, you guys spar all the time
-jealousy issues, and you can't tell me other wise.
-she hears someone talk to you in a tone she doesn't like? Glare. Someone low-key flirting with you? Glare. If looks could kill.. she will actually kill them though, so..
-not super experienced in bed, but she's open to suggestions
-once she finds something she likes/is comfortable with, she askes you for it all the time
-a "words of affirmation" and "acts of service" girl for sure
Alastor
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(i am perfectly aware he's ace, but these are scenario's for if he wasn't, don't come for me)
-now, Alastor is a great dancer.
-he has great music taste too!
-listens to 1940's and below.
-i think he's mostly into Jazz and Classical music to be honest
-i do think Amy Winehouse and Dave Brubeck are his exceptions when it comes to listening to 1950's and above
-somehow always knows where you are..? You often see his shadows follow you, so that's probably why
-kills for you. Also because he has a thirst for blood, that needs to be satisfied. So that's 2 birds with one stone
-holds doors open for you
-just a general gentleman
-loves it when you wear dark red, dark blue and dark green
-it can be anything. Lipstick (just red though), a hat, a dress, heels, etc.
-expects you to respect his personal space but doesn't respect yours LMFAO
-gift giving and physical touch
Husk
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-knows all your favorite drinks
-loves to dance with you
-also a Jazz person, but I don't think he'd mind country music to be honest
-once he secretly took a picture of you.
-he thought you looked so good, he keeps it in his nightstand.
-doesn't really talk about his problems/feelings, but prefers it if you do.
-respects your boundaries more than anyone.
-you don't wanna talk? He'll kiss your forehead, and leave you alone.
-you don't really like being touched? He'll always ask first.
-other than making amazing alcoholic drinks, he makes great coffee too!
-quality time and physical touch.
It's been quite a while since i've written something, so I apologize if there's any grammar mistakes or sentences that just don't make any sense LOL
Thank you for reading!
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darkbluekies · 5 months
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The track runner reader fic w/Silas got me thinking👀
Hear me out okay..
Ballerina reader x Silas
How would he react to see her practice,her shows
Swan lake, Giselle..
Italian fouettés, Entrechat quatre x3 royale, Developpe A la Seconde etc
Yk the high extensions,leg holds the whole shebang
Just a thot👀
Stolen part
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Yandere!mafia x fem!reader
Summary: you've finally been granted to do ballet, but when Silas sees you upset, everything turns into a nightmare
Warnings: yandere, mentions of blood, broken bones, a lot of guilt and confusion, panic attack(?), reader just feeling horrible
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: I took some creative liberty with your request, I hope that's okay. And uh, I know 0 about ballet, so take this with a handful of salt<3
One performance — that’s the deal. One single performance and then you’ll go back to normal life. You nearly fainted when he told you that you could do one dance, after months and months of begging, pleading and crying. You almost started threatening him when you became desperate enough. 
“Well … we’re here”, Silas sighs as his men stop the car. “You know the rules, don’t you? Do we have to go through them again?”
“No, I know them”, you smile. 
You take his hand while exiting the car. Silas smiles and squeezes your hand softly. It’s worth all the trouble, he tells himself. If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.
When you enter the practice room, you’re met by a dozen other girls wearing the same clothes as you. It’s been such a long time ago that you’ve felt so … included. There’s a certain feeling about wearing the same thing that creates a unity you can’t explain. 
“Run along”, Silas tells you, giving you a small push towards the group. 
He walks over to the instructor. He can tell right away that she knows who he is. He braces himself. She can either call the police or let him go. If she decides to call the police, he’ll have to create a blood bath and snatch you back in the car. 
“Can I have a word with you?” Silas asks politely. 
“Sure”, the woman answers hesitantly. 
“I can tell by the look on your face that you know very well who I am, so I want to make a deal with you.”
“What type of deal?”
“If you don’t call the cops on me and give my girlfriend an honest chance — because I know that she’s magnificent — I will fund your entire club. All clothes, all expenses, all props, venue, is on me. Fair?”
The woman thinks for a moment. Silas know that the club is underfunded. He knows that she has to agree.
“Okay”, the woman says shortly. 
“Good”, Silas replies and waves at you to come over. 
You skip over with sparkling eyes. He pulls you in to kiss him, in front of everybody. His kisses are always controlled by him, but they always show extremely much love for you, a deep hunger nothing can satisfy. 
“My men will stay to supervise, to make sure nothing happens to you”, he says and gives you another kiss. “Have fun now, little thing. I’ll see you soon.”
You nod. Silas squeezes your shoulder, gives the group of ballerinas a warning stare and then leaves. 
You return to the group. The people who knows who Silas is give you nervous gazes and the ones who don’t look at you with jealousy. 
Well, this is starting off great, you’ll absolutely make many friends.
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Time goes on. Silas enjoys seeing the wise smile on your face every time you exit the building after a practice. Every time you’re in practice, he takes the opportunity to do some errands. He always makes sure to come pick you up clean, never covered in blood. 
But one day, you’re crying when you meet him. His heart drops in an instant and he thinks that putting you in ballet was a mistake. It wasn’t worth it at all. 
“What happened, baby?” he asks worriedly and takes you in his arms. “What did they do to you?”
You struggle to talk through your violent sobs. He believes that you’re having a panic attack, but you can still move relatively well. Silas grabs your shoulders and waves at his men to come over. 
“Y/N, what did they do to you?” he asks and looks at his men. “Did any of the others hurt her?”
The men shake their heads. 
“Y/N!” Silas says sharply. 
“I-I didn’t … get … the ... lead role”, you manage to get out through your sobs. 
You know it’s silly, of course. Honestly. It’s childish to cry over not being the main character, but this was your only chance to be on stage before you’ll get pulled back into capture. You’ll never have this much freedom again. It’s embarrassing to cry about this, and you know that very well, but they don’t know how much you’ve suffered to even be in the practice room. 
“You didn’t?” Silas asks shortly. 
“No”, you cry. 
Silas turns to his men and hands you to one of them. 
“Bring her to the car”, he says. “I will be back soon.”
He disappears into the building. The practice room is empty, apart from the constructor who is cleaning up after today's class.
“Oh”, she says, noticing him. “Can I help you?”
“If you're smart, you can”, Silas says coldly. “I heard that Y/N didn't get the lead role. I'm just wondering why?”
“She wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular role … I mean, she's extremely good, but just not what I had in mind when I visualized the lead. She's a runner up, though.”
Not good enough, Silas thinks.
“Okay”, he says and nods. “I see.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves. Anger is burning through his chest. Seeing you so upset makes him see red. He would burn down the entire world for you to watch you smile. He walks back to the car where you sit in the backseat and the two men in the front. 
“Hey, baby”, he smiles and sits down beside you. “Are you feeling better? Should we get some food on the way home?”
You nod. Silas smiles and wipes your tears. His men are forced to hear how he sucks the air out of you in the backseat. He devours your lips, trying to comfort both you and himself. He holds you in his arms, letting you cry. The more you cry, the more embarrassed you feel. You’re ashamed because you can’t understand why you are so upset over it. It’s just a role, you’ll still be on stage, won’t you? Is it because you think that you’re better than the others? That you deserve the position of the lead? Do you deserve it because you’re so good or because this is your only chance? The others have many more opportunities to get the role you want, why can’t you just get one? You’ll never be seen again, why can’t you get it?
Why are you thinking like this? You’re not entitled to anything. Has Silas imprinted the narrative that you’re so special, so wonderful that deeply into your brain? Do you believe that you’re this special, one of a kind person that deserve everything because you’re so special? 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Silas asks, caressing your cheek. “You look so thoughtful. Let me in.”
“I- … I- …”, you start, but can’t seem to talk — you can’t even formulate your own thoughts.
“Breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re with me now.”
“I am breathing … I just …”
“Just …?”
You shake your head. 
“Just hungry”, you lie. “And tired.”
“It’s okay, you’ll get some food soon”, Silas promises and kisses your lips once again. “We’ll stop by McDonald’s.”
You get your food and you eat together with Silas in your bedroom, but you can’t stop thinking about the lump in your stomach. Why are you so upset? Why can’t you put words on your feelings? 
You lay awake the entire night in your empty bed (because Silas is out working) and think. Crying over not getting the lead role won’t make you enjoy the last few weeks in the club. Ballet is your true love, you should do everything you can to enjoy it — specifically because you’ll not get it back. You should be happy with your role — you’re even a runner up! That’s fantastic. You breathe out. Ease sets into your heart. It doesn’t matter what role you get, as long as you have fun. 
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When you enter the practice room the next time, you can tell that something is wrong right away. The girl who got the lead part … has crutches. You feel a shiver run down your back. Mortified, you shake your head. Silas. He must have done something to give you the lead role, that you so desperately wanted. He never got to know that you became satisfied with your original role. Guilt washes over you, suddenly you feel extremely sick. You need to take a hold on the wall to not fall. One hand presses against your chest to not vomit. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” one of the body guards asks as they hurry over. 
You nod sloppily. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. This is all my fault. 
This is what you had been feeling bad about — finally you can put words on that weird feeling in your stomach. You were scared that Silas would do something to the girl that got the lead without even noticing it. If anything, that shows how close you know Silas.
“He … he did this … didn’t he?” you whisper, feeling distant. 
“The boss couldn’t stand to watch you be upset”, one of the body guards answers quietly, only for you to hear. “He made sure to get you the role he wanted.”
You’re freezing. That poor girl. Suddenly you don’t want that part anymore. The part is dirty, and your hands are covered in blood. 
Your mind is anywhere but in practice when you dance your stolen part, but your body works for you. 
Silas is standing out in the parking lot a wide smile when you walk out. He opens his arms for you, but you don’t walk into them. 
“Are you happy now?” he asks. 
“You shouldn’t have done that, Silas …”, you say quietly and shake your head. 
He tries to grab you, but you jerk back. Silas frowns. 
“But you wanted it”, he says. “You had a panic attack. I gave the part to you.”
“Silas, I feel extremely guilty. I stole her part. It’s not fair.”
He grabs your shoulders and force you to look at him. 
“The world isn’t fair, little thing”, he says. “If you have some power, use it. I want to use my power to make you happy, baby. You’ll do better than that girl ever could. You should have gotten that part from the very beginning.”
He gives you a kiss and brings you to the car. 
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When the day for the performance arrive, you refuse to come out of the dressing room. The costume looks horrible on you. You can only see the other girl in the mirror. None of the other girls have talked to you after the lead girl ended up with crutches. They all know why you got the role. And how you got it. 
“We start in five minutes, get out!” the instructor tells you and basically pulls you out on stage. 
You see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. Silas has brought as many of his men as he possibly could. Silas himself is sitting in the front row with his right hand man beside him, smiling at you. You look around. All his men are smiling at you. Weirdly enough, it’s somehow cute. They all look like they could kill anyone in any second, but the second you look their way, big, genuine smiles creeps up on their faces. Turning them from killer machines to teddy bears. 
You dance to the best of your ability. This is what you’ve been begging and pleading for. Better enjoy the spotlight while you can. You can’t help but feeling dirty throughout the performance. Silas, however, has never looked this proud before. 
The second the applauds roll in, you fall to your knees, crying. You fulfilled your childhood dream, but at what cost? A girl broke her leg because of your emotions, you stole her role … you’re covered in dirt that you can’t wash off. You don’t deserve these applauds. You don’t deserve any of this. 
“Y/N!” Silas gasps and runs up on the stage with his right hand man by his side. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I want to go home”, you sob. “Get me out of here.”
Silas nods and waves at his men to walk out. He picks you up and follows his men. 
“You did so well, baby”, Silas smiles while walking. “I’ma always proud of you, but this was something else. Everyone saw how absolutely fantastic you were. You’re an absolute badass, baby. I fucking love you so much.”
You smile slightly. It’s finally over. You’ve achieved your dream — although you wish that you never had done it — and now, you’re going back to your locked bedroom. You almost long for it. 
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eleutherafairy · 1 month
Text
I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND — quinn hughes
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SUMMARY! quinn has started to fall in love with his best friend & quinn tries the whole day to tell her how he feels, but is isn’t until he’s slightly drunk that he confesses his feelings for her.
INVOLVED! quinn x reader! 
WARNINGS! mentions of alcohol / being drunk
BEFORE YOU START! i don’t know how the hughes act irl! this is just an imagination!
extra! find my masterlist → here!
if you have any ideas for fic recs, drop them <3
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“Y/n,” Quinn whispered.
I turned around to see Quinn behind me as I was setting up for the party tonight.
“Hm,” I murmured, turning back around to fix the bar cart that was now restocked with any kind of alcohol imaginable. 
It was the start of summer and all three of the boys and you were at the lake house and Lukey really wanted to start of the summer with a bang. 
“I need to tell you something.”
You stopped what you were doing and turned to face him, your hand resting on the bar cart.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked, peering at his face to get a glimpse of what he wanted to tell me.
“Oh um, actually, I changed my mind, but we’re gonna go take the boat out for a little and I was wondering if you wanted to come with.
“You guys are seriously gonna take the boat out when the party starts in an hour?” I said, crossing my hands over my chest. “Quinn, it’s already dark outside,” I followed up, exasperated. 
“On second thought, we’re not going to take the boat out.”
I gave the boy a weird look.
“Quinn, are you okay? You’re acting weird.”
He started to look flustered. 
I continued to stare at him, laughing in my head at the way he looked uncomfortable under my gaze. 
“Quinn, I though you were gonna go,” I said, letting out a laugh.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you in a few.”
- - -
The party was now in full swing and I was stood in the kitchen talking to Z with a beer in my hand. 
“Did Quinn say anything yet?” Z asked nonchalantly, taking a sip of his beer.
I gave him a look. “What do you mean?”
“That motherfucker said he was gonna say someth- actually, forget I said anything,” he replied. 
“Did he get a girlfriend or something?” I asked, ignoring that feeling in my stomach. “He’s been acting weird all day and keeps saying he needs to tell me something and then not saying it.”
“So what if he did get a girlfriend,” Z asked, looking straight at me.
I shrugged, taking a sip of my beer. “So what, Quinn and I have been friends for forever and met his past girlfriends and we were fine. If he does get one, he should just tell me so I could distance myself a bit.”
“Distance?” 
“Yeah, I don’t want to be that girl that has a guy friend and make it seem like I want him or something. It’s like if you had a girl best friend and she got a boyfriend and the respectable choice would be to distance yourself from her a bit.”
“Okay, but like if they’re secure in their relationship, then you shouldn’t have to distance yourself at all,” he said, shugging.
“When did you get all wise?” I asked the younger boy, nudging his shoulder.
“Learned it from the best,” he replied, putting his head on my shoulder.
“You’re an idiot,” I said, tapping his head.
“Y/n,” Jack yelled, rushing into the kitchen.
I immediately pulled away from Trevor and concern was evident in my face.
“What’s wrong Jack?”
“Oh nothing,” he said, “Quinny’s just a little bit too drunk,” he followed up. 
“I thought he was supposed to be the responsible one,” I said, starting to leave the kitchen to find the oldest Hughes boy.
“Well he wanted some courage before he said anything,” Jack said, pointing me to Quinn’s direction.
“Can you guys just tell me what’s going on,” I asked, pointing at both Jack and Trevor. “What’s going on with Quinn?”
Jack and Trevor both looked at each other and just shrugged.
“Sorry, y/n, Quinn has to be the one to tell you.”
I chugged the rest of my beer before placing the empty glass on the counter.
“At least have another beer opened for me when I come back,” I said, tired of their antics. 
Walking through the living room, I spotted Quinn outside, nursing a beer on the patio.
“Hey, Quinny,” I said, leaning on the railing next to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Been trying to tell this girl I really like her for the past three weeks but she hasn’t taken the hint,” Quinn confessed, drunkenly before chugging the rest of his beer.
“Okay,” I said, trying to empathize to him. “Well, have you dropped any hints to tell her that you like her?” I asked him.
He just shook his head yes in reply.
“Jack and Trevor have been telling me what to say, but I think it was a bad idea to ask them for advice.”
I laughed at his answer.
“Probably. Why didn’t you ask me for advice, idiot. Newsflash, I’m a girl,” I said, slightly nudging his shoulder.
Quinn just sighed again.
“You wouldn’t get it,” he said, finally turning to face me.
I looked right into his eyes– they were glassed over, a sign of him being clearly drunk and before I knew it, his lips were on mine and I immediately pulled away.
“Hold on, buddy,” I said, ignoring the rush of butterflies that were flying around in my stomach. “You’re definitely really drunk. I’m gonna go get Jack so we can take you to your room. Just stay right there,” I said, trying to get away from him a soon as possible.
“Jack,” I yelled, pushing through the crowd of people and into the kitchen where he and Trevor still stood. 
“Did you find Quinn?”
“Yeah and he kissed me,” I said, my heart pounding at a million miles per hour.
“He kissed you?” Jack said, shooting me a smile.
“Finally,” Trevor uttered at the same time.
I looked back and forth at the two boys.
“What is going on?” I said, confused and stressed out. “Quinn just kissed me and he’s drunk. He won’t remember this, right?” I blurted out concerned.
“Woah, calm down, y/n. Why would you want him to forget that he kissed you?”
“Because he’s my bestfriend and if he remembers, everything is going to be ruined. Now can you explain what’s going on?” I said, my hands running through my hair.
“Quinn has a crush on you,” Trevor blurted out, receiving a slap from Jack.
“You weren’t supposed to tell her, you dumbass,” Jack said, hitting him again.
Quinn has a crush on you. That was all you could think about.
“Oh my god,” I said.
“Go out and talk to him again,” Jack said, trying to comfort me. 
I was conflicted and Jack could sense it.
“It’s like you said, right? He’s too drunk to remember anyways,” Jack said.
“Hand me your drink,” I pointed to Z.
He handed it to me and I chugged the rest of his beer.
Before I knew it, I was walking towards the patio again, relief flooding through me when I saw that Quinn was still there, leaning against the railing.
“Quinn?”
“I’m sorry,” Quinn said. “I’m sorry for kissing you. I thought you would get the hint after that, but you still didn’t,” he drily spilled out.
“Quinn what do you want to tell me.”
After a few seconds, he responded.
“I don’t want you like a best friend,” he finally stated. “Y/n I’ve like you for the longest time now and I’ve been trying to drop hints, but you aren’t catching them,” the older Hughes boy said.
All I could so was stare at him.
“You’re the only person I want,” he continued. “You’ve seen me a my worst and you still stood by me. You’re my lifeline and I want to wake up by your side every morning. I hate how you live so far away from me and I can only see hints of your life in pictures or our facetime calls.”
I couldn’t make out any words, but my heart was pounding with adrenaline.
“Quinn I-”
“I’m not done,” he said, cutting me off. “All these people, and you’re the only want I want to talk to. My teammates make fun of me because they know how much I like you– and so do Luke and Jack. My parents love you for Christ’s sake. When you say my name, it’s like you’re the only person in the world. You see me for who I am,” Quinn finished. 
He finished and we stood there in silence, him waiting for me to talk. 
So I did the best thing I could think of. I left. I left him standing there.
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WC: 1332
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secretwritingspot · 4 months
Text
Sleepless Nights - Rough Ending
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
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Rating/Content Warnings: R/X/18+, whatever you wanna call it this is FILTH. Reader is stated a woman in this (AFAB + words like "women" and "girl" used) so keep that in mind if it messes with dysphoria at all for you, and feminine descriptors are used. Maybe some somnophilia if you squint (since the whole premise is being fucked to sleep lmfao) but other than that it's pretty straightforward rough smut. Oh and unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, freaks <3
Summary: the "rough" ending to Sleepless Nights, Sanji puts the reader to sleep...less gently.
Disclaimer(s): ...a little soft OKAY HEAR ME OUT- sex-wise, absolutely rough and filthy. As promised. However this is Sanji we're talking about, inventor of romance and only man ever. So there are a few soft bits (esp. at the end) but trust me, it's still plenty rough. You'll see.
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"...I'll put you to sleep, love, on one condition," He coos, his voice a mix of sympathy and amusement as he strokes your cheek with a smirk.
"Anything."
You don't even think before speaking, desperate to sleep, to be touched, to be able to think clearly again once the fog of arousal and exhaustion clears from your mind.
And, well...hearing you say that to him in that breathy, desperate sort of voice- it does things to him.
He chuckles and grabs your chin lightly, touch firm despite its gentleness, and tilts your head up to look at him, leaning closer to study your face. He loves that you're this vulnerable in the moment. How he's got a clear advantage. His eyes sparkle as he leans in close to you, voice low and demanding.
"I'm in charge. If I tell you to jump, you ask how high. Got it?"
Your face flushes a brilliant pink at his words and your lips part softly in surprise, eyes widening a fraction as you look at him. He really- he wants- him? Despite your embarrassment, something about his gaze demands eye contact, and you can't make yourself look away. You swallow thickly, searching his face for any sign of joking and finding none. Slightly dazed, you nod your head.
His smirk only grows at the response as he seems to relish this moment. The way it feels when you're so vulnerable and trusting, the way your pretty eyes meet his, it's perfect.
He's going to enjoy this.
He leans forward until he's only inches from your face, his breath hot on your skin as he speaks with a whisper.
"Good. Be a good girl and get on the counter. Now."
Your skin only flushes further as you nod, not really able to do anything other than agree. Sanji is usually so...Sanji - doting, gentle, a bit of a pushover - but this, this is not that. This Sanji is practiced and precise, put together, in charge. This Sanji has no reservations about giving you what you want, fucking you so hard you pass out.
The unexpected sternness of it flicks a sort of switch in your brain and you obey instinctively, hopping up onto the kitchen counter behind you and looking to Sanji with wide eyes and a warm flush, as if waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
He watches you, grinning as you willingly hop up onto the counter. You look so soft and adorable. So innocent. He'll fix that.
"Spread your legs." He commands, leaning in close and taking a deep breath, the scent of your skin spreading throughout his every pore. His tone is low and husky, voice taking on a slightly more intimidating timbre. "Keep your arms by your sides," He instructs, slowly running his hand along your side and down to your hip, where it takes a firm grip.
You gasp softly when he doesn't even wait for you to comply, instead gripping your thighs firmly and pushing them open himself so he can stand between your legs. His tone leaves no room for debate and you find that your hands stay at your sides instinctively, firmly planted on the counter. He really didn't think you'd be the type to follow directions, but it's a pleasant surprise. The new position is better for access to you in every sense, but it also provides him with a better view. With your legs spread like that he can see your panties- soft, white lace. He nearly groans at the sight, because of course the most innocent fucking person on board would wear lace, of course you would.
He's never been happier about a cliche in his life.
He lets his eyes wander with a smirk, the blatant heat of his gaze making you flush in a mix of embarrassment and lust. He can't help but admire you, his grin growing a little wider and his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight.
"So innocent," He mutters teasingly, "and yet..."
Your breath hitches sharply when he leans forward and traces two of his fingers over the moist patch of your panties teasingly, amused at how wet you already are. You can't do much else but grip the edge of the counter tightly, knuckles white as you try to keep your hands at your sides and to yourself like he instructed.
He won't deny that he finds your struggle entertaining, trailing his fingers all the way up your body from your panties, up between your breasts, over your throat, and eventually to your face, grabbing your jaw firmly.
His touch on your face is unexpectedly harsh, though you can tell it's calculated just enough to not hurt you, and he tilts your head back towards him slowly, his other replacing the first to tease you over your panties.
"Such a cute little thing you are..." He whispers, leaning in close so you can feel the heat of his breath on your face as he speaks.
"Open." He commands lowly, tightening his grip on your jaw just just enough to make a point.
Your eyes widen in surprise but you obey, opening your mouth. He wastes no time before harshly pushing two of his fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue in little circles. He's a gentleman, after all- he's not going to try to open you up without something to lubricate his fingers better.
He grins as you open, and he can't help but admire at your willingness to trust. You're truly just a good girl beneath that innocent exterior. Your mouth feels so soft and inviting. Your face shows such innocence even now, but your eyes betray you as he slides his fingers into your mouth, and he can see the raw lust in your eyes. He can't help but smirk at you, how perfect you look like this, all doe-eyed and obedient. He's going to enjoy this, his words a pleased hiss.
"God, just like that, sweetheart. Look at you, so eager to drool all over my fingers. Christ, you're perfect."
You whine at the vulgar words, flushing a pretty pink that extends to your ears. The sound is muffled but he can feel your throat vibrate around his fingers and good god, that's hot.
There's no warning before he pushes you flat onto your back until it's flush with the counter, the movement firm and quick and almost harsh if it weren't for the hand he places behind your head protectively to keep you from hitting the counter too hard.
"Good girl. So, so good. Stay right there, sweetheart," He murmurs softly, his lips close to your ear as he speaks in a soft, gentle voice.
It's a dizzying contrast from his actions.
As soon as you're laid out on the counter, flat on your back with your legs spread, Sanji's grin grows wider. His other hand, the one that was holding your head in place, moves down towards your chest.
You gasp in surprise when he pushes you down and immediately starts to grasp at your tits, so desperate he doesn't even take your shirt off, groping you through the fabric. His other hand, the one with his fingers still in your mouth, pulls out to shove your panties out of the way frantically and run his now wet fingers up your slit. The sudden feeling makes you gasp and you grasp tightly at his shoulder.
He can't help but groan softly at the feeling, clearly enjoying the sensation of your nails pressing into his shoulders, the suit stopping them from digging in too much.
"Christ, the wetness, sweetheart. You're so wet," he whispers, moving his hand up your shirt to start pulling it up, his other hand still on your neck to keep you pinned down.
As if the filthy words weren't enough on their own, he's purring them directly into your ear, nipping at the lobe and your neck as if he can't help himself, a hidden sort of desperation you're sure matches yours, even if he won't show it.
"Sanji-"
You can't do much else but whine, face going pink as your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath hitches in your throat and his teeth are everywhere- finding your ear, your neck, your jaw while his other hand doesn't hesitate before shoving two of his fingers into you. He grips your neck just a little bit tighter to keep you in place as he starts to whisper into your ear again, his tone low and hushed.
"Does it feel good, love?" He asks in a quiet growl, his tone low and predatory. He keeps moving his hand along your body, the other setting a harsh pace of thrusting into you, no buildup as he hammers his fingers insistently into your sweet spot.
"Tell me how it feels."
"Perfe- ah- perfect, Sanji, it's-"
You ramble in response, words interrupted by gasps as you cling to his shoulder, fists clenching and unclenching on repeat as you try to process all the sensations he's forcing out of you.
"Feels- feels s' good-"
"Is that right, sweetheart? You like the way this feels?" He asks, his voice now low, a harsh whisper, tone dripping with lust as his fingers thrust insistently into you. He leans down and nips at your neck again, harder this time, before whispering into your ear again. "Christ, you're a loud one, aren't you? I have other tricks up my sleeve, too. Would you like to see them?"
You can't do much else but nod with a whimper, eyes squeezed shut as you cling to him. Everything feels intense and heady and your lower belly feels like it's on fire. Ordinarily you would flush pink with embarrassment when he mentions being loud, but you're too overwhelmed to focus on it much right now.
With his wandering hand, he grabs your chin and tilts your head back to look at him, expression wild and predatory as he leans closer.
"Good girl. Then stay with me, sweetheart. Until I'm done with you."
You nod your head wordlessly as he pulls his fingers out of you to unbuckle his belt, chuckling darkly in amusement at the way the loss makes you whine, clinging to his shirt needily.
That's another thing about this he likes, he's decided- there's a strange power in having you like this, completely bare and exposed save for a thin t-shirt while he's fully clothed, suit still pristine.
"Aww, what's the matter, sweetheart? Did you not want me to pull out?"
He coos, his smirk growing wider as you cling to him, his fingers running softly along your neck once again. "So cute. I guess that's my fault. Don't worry love, I'll fill you back up real soon."
"Please-"
Your voice is somewhere between a whine and a sob at this point, squeezing your eyes shut. Your breath comes in rushed gasps and your words aren't much better, quick and desperate.
"Sanji please, I need you to- please-"
He grins when you beg, finding it so adorable. You're such a sweetheart, and when a woman like you ask so nicely it's hard to say no. Besides, he's been eager for this moment since the first second he laid eyes on you.
"What do you need, sweet thing? Use your words."
You don't even hesitate this time, tripping over your words immediately. You need this, need him, need sleep, need something you can't even place anymore until all you know is that you need.
"Fuck me, Sanji, please just- please."
You beg, words an almost incoherent mumble. You're too far gone to care that you're begging, that it's needy, that you sound pathetic right now. You just need him to get on with it, give you what you want. And god, is he more than happy to, shoving his trousers down past his thighs as quickly as he can physically manage.
"God, you're such a sweetheart." He groans in response, his grip on your chin tightening as his eyes roll back at the words, and he leans in close to press his lips against yours, his free hand still holding you down as he kisses you.
It's rough and desperate and messy, all teeth and lips and tongue, biting and nipping and sucking like he's curious, shoving his tongue into your mouth like he's exploring- all of it with a sort of feverish fervor that betrays that you're not the only needy one here.
"I'm going to destroy you..." He promises as he pulls away, biting at your bottom lip one last time as he lines up and pushes himself into you.
"Ah-!"
It's one, fluid moment- no pauses to adjust, no time, no slow prep or sweet words like you'd expect from someone like Sanji. It steals the breath from your lungs and cuts you off with a strangled gasp, the sudden stretch making you whimper as you cling to him, nails digging into his forearms through the fabric of his suit as you desperately try to ground yourself.
"God yes, love, you're so tight, and those noises..."
He groans into your lips, fingers stroking along your neck gently as he speaks, despite the power behind his touch still holding you down. He looks down at you lovingly as he leans in to peck your lips softly, a small moment of the gentleness you're accustomed to from him.
"You're amazing, sweetheart. Beautiful. You're mine. You know that, right?"
You nod your head emphatically as even his sweet words aren't interrupting the rough pace that he fucks into you, still mumbling praises and mindless babbling pleasure as his cock bullies your insides.
"Yo-urs, yours, always yours, promise-"
You gasp when his hand suddenly goes to push you back down until you're lying flat on the counter, giving him a better angle to pull out experimentally before pistoning his hips back into you, hard.
"That's a good girl. You're mine, angel. Completely. Do you understand? I own you." He murmurs softly, his grip tightening slightly on your neck.
You just nod, seeing stars from the angle, the immediate speed and harshness to his pace- this is the last thing you'd ever expect from him, but it's exactly what you need, you need him to keep going until your brain leaks out from your ears and you finally, finally pass out and get the rest you need.
He slows his movements to a halt with a sudden look of concern on his face, both hands moving to cup your cheeks and wipe away the wetness there - when had you started crying?
"Hey hey hey, love, are you okay? I need you to stay with me, sweetheart. I need you to stay conscious for me."
He starts to worry that he's doing too much, pushing you too far. He needs to make sure you're still coherent enough after this to tell him what you're thinking.
Needs to know you're still okay.
Still, as well-intentioned as his actions are, they're the opposite of helpful. You whine pitifully when he slows down, new tears of desperation starting to prick at the corners of your eyes.
He's so damn thoughtful, and it's perfect, and you love that he stops to ask, but right now it's so frustrating you just want to scream.
"No- nonono please, Sanji please, please keep going, 'm okay, please-"
Your words are a rambling whine, begging as you blink your eyes back open to look up at him, big and pleading as you try to make him understand how desperate you are for this.
"Wan' you to knock me out, Sanji, please. Put me to sleep."
As soon as he sees the fresh tears his expression softens, pouting at you with adoring concern and stroking your cheeks softly with the pads of his thumbs.
"You're sure?" He asks gently, voice intentionally soft and whisper-quiet. "Are you completely sure that's what you want, sweet thing? I'd hate to hurt you more than you can take."
In the small moment of respite, you feel a soft smile blossom on your face at his words.
Just the phrasing of it - "more than you can take" - it's an acknowledgement. An acknowledgement that even like this, he knows how strong you are. Knows that, to an extent, you can take being hurt. Maybe not all he could give you, maybe not all the time, but the acknowledgement of your toughness is there and it makes something warm flutter in your chest.
"I can take a lot more than you'd think," you reassure him eventually, a soft whisper that's all the answer Sanji needs.
Though the words aren't exact, the meaning is obvious- 'I can take it'. You truly want him to fuck you unconscious, make sure you sleep soundly for at least the next 12 hours.
The trust in it makes his heart swell and his lips pull back into a smile, starting to understand what it is you so desperately want. He's not going to do any damage, would outright refuse to do anything that might seriously hurt you, but if you want it rough then that's what you'll get.
"Alright, sweetheart," he reassures softly, his hands wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks before they resume their initial position, holding you down with one on your hip and one on your throat. "You'll be out soon. Just close your eyes, angel."
You nod your head, shooting him a quick look of thankfulness before closing your eyes, letting him hold you down as he sets a punishing pace with his hips, drilling into you as hard as he can manage. Fresh tears trail down your face as you grasp at his suit, whimpers getting more breathy and desperate by the second as you babble.
"Sa-sanji-"
"Oh, sweetheart. So fucking gorgeous when you cry..." He whispers in a harsh growl, voice dripping with lust as he continues on his pace, holding you down while he pounds you into submission.
With his other hand, he reaches down to toy with your clit, swiping quick circles over the bundle of nerves. It feels like he's shooting lightning directly into your veins and it's not long before you cry out, digging your nails into his suit jacket as you tighten around him. It's like nothing he's ever felt before, perfect in every way as you come around him. He keeps pounding into you, both to chase his own release and because he intends on keeping his promise- he's not stopping until you pass out.
"Oh god, sweetheart, you're about to make me lose it." He groans, a desperate and almost animalistic sound that betrays how close he is.
Everything comes to you in waves as your mind starts going blurry around the edges. You know that you finished, that Sanji keeps going, whispering something to you (you're too far gone to have any idea what, but the assumption of how filthy it probably is is enough), but he's still going, not just with his thrusts but with his fingers abusing your core and suddenly you're coming around him again, or at least you think you are.
You're not sure of much at all anymore.
The past 48 hours all seem to hit you at once, exhaustion like nothing you've ever felt before. Your mind clears to an almost normal state and then fizzles out again in waves, coming back for a few seconds only to fade before you can catch it enough to put together a coherent thought. You're not sure if you're still making noise at this point, but if you are you're sure it's completely gibberish, nothing but teary babbling.
"There it is, sweetheart. You've got nothing left in you now, do you? That's a good girl. You're so perfect, love." He coos sweetly, almost apologetically as he comforts you through his continued abuse of your cunt, now desperately chasing his own relief.
"So beautiful," He murmurs quietly, almost to himself, nuzzling his lips into your throat in a show of tender desperation as he continues his praise like it's an instinct.
The last things you remember feeling are him nuzzling the side of your neck as his hips twitch and falter in their rhythm, and then an explosive warmth. Warmth flooding every inch of your insides as he stalls and stays inside you while he finishes. Wether it's overstimulation or some odd kind of comfort it's that that does you in, and everything goes hazy as the world around you fades to black.
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When you wake up the next morning-
(actually, you wake up at 2 in the afternoon)
-it's not in your bed.
But for what it's worth, it's not on the counter, either. And it's warm. The space between your legs suspiciously clean, the sheets tucked up to your shoulders, your hair distinctly less greasy than you remember it being.
When you wake up the next morning, there's Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand, a pair of your lounge clothes folded neatly on a chair by the desk. One of your stuffed animals has been (lovingly) kidnapped from your room, and now rests right next to you in this bed that is not yours, the only other occupying force on the nightstand a scribbled note that you're sure is emphatically apologetic for leaving you. The sheets are far too expensive and the pillow smells like cologne.
It's the best sleep you've had in your life.
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