#I think drunk twi also likes to dance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doxypsychlean · 1 year

Note

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Innocent!reader and her reaction to the dinner scene. Like she’s completely in love with Aegon but also that’s her family and brothers and sisters??? 🤍🤍🤍

Strong

Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Next chapter: Strong pt.2

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, Some NSFW stuff but it's mild, Bit dark, Blood, Aegon gets his ass kicked -sorry, I'm in a weird mood for violence-

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Aegon and the reader are married, Viserys' failed attempt to make peace. Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's oldest. A Stronk gworlllll✨

A/N: Wasn't sure what Anon meant by "innocent", so I'm taking it as the reader being a patient and understanding person. Till she snaps...muehehehhehe >:)

P.S. I might write a pt.2 to this one, if there's enough ppl interested in reading it. Pt2 will be closer to what Anon requested tho, so not as whatever tf this is

"Think before you speak" Alicent, his mother, told him once after her hand had collided with his face.

But in order to do so, Aegon first had to learn how to listen. He'd never liked listening to others. He saw no point in learning anything from them. Prince Aegon had his own ways of moving through life.

"If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask." The Prince said as he made his way back to his seat.

From the corner of his eye, he could see his wife's pained expression. She didn't say anything, only stared down at her hands that were resting in her lap, fingers digging in. Angry tears threatening to spill from her dark brown eyes.

The woman made no move, even when her younger brother, Jace, slammed his hands on the table as he got up. All she did was shake her head from side to side, teeth clamping down on her tongue until she could taste the blood.

Not long after, music filled the room, expelling the silence. The Princess had turned to stare at her brother and aunt who were dancing, with a sad look on her face. The things she'd give to have Aegon offer his hand to her the way Jacaerys had done to Halaena. Instead, her husband was staring down the two, taking sip after sip from his cup.

────────────

Strong. Strong. Strong.

The word echoed in her head. She turned to look at Aegon, eyes urging him to do something. Say something. Anything.

The wolfish grin on his face said enough. He wouldn't stand up for her, wouldn't protect her from his brother's harsh, cruel words.

The Princess rose to her feet, muttering excuses as she walked past her brother and out of the room.

As she reached the door, a loud bang came from behind her. The woman turned around, a shocked gasp tearing through her bloodied lips. Aegon was holding Luke by the neck, pinning him down on the table. Aemond shoved Jace, the boy falling to the ground then quickly getting back up.

She used the moment to slip past the heavy doors.

────────────

She stared down at the burning logs in the fireplace, her grip on the book she was holding turning deadly as the doors flew open.

"Oh, how did you get here before me?" Aegon giggled as he made his way over to her, feet stumbling.

He was drunk. Again.

"I left hours ago." She sighed as she closed the book.

"You did?" The Prince let out a confused sound. "When?"

"Shortly before you slammed my brother's head into the table."

Aegon came to stand before her. He took the book from her hands and placed it on the table next to her. Then, ever so slowly, he sunk down to his knees, chin coming to rest on her leg.

"Well, the little twat deserved it." His finger went under the skirts of her dress, then trailed up. "Not my fault he doesn't know his place."

The woman squeezed her thighs together before his finger could go any further. She looked away from the man.

His brows furrowed, a look of puzzlement and slight hints of anger twisting his fine features.

"Are you angry with me, wife?"

She bit down on her tongue once more, blood gushing out of the fresh wound.

"No." The word came out as a whisper. "Just disappointed..."

His hands dissappeared from under her dress. Aegon grabbed her wrists with one hand, the other reaching for her face. Nails dug down as he turned her to look him in the eyes.

"Come again?" He hissed out, thumb rubbing over her bottom lip.

The woman pushed him away, Aegon falling on his back. Then she got up, leaving him to stare up at her in shock.

"First you offer your bed to my cousin, the one that is to marry my brother." She took a step towards him, Aegon crawling away. "Then your fucking brother insults me and my family in front of everyone."

Another step. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, licking away the blood that was trailing down her chin.

"You lay your filthy hands on my brother..." His back hit the wall. "...And now on me?"

Her knee met Aegon's face, blood splattering everywhere. The Prince sobered up fast. There was no anger left in him. Just fear. And desire. And lust.

"I am strong, husband." She said as she kicked him in the ribs, the man curling in a ball. "I am a Strong."

Aegon tried to hide his face, to hide himself from her.

But there was nowhere to hide. Not now. She'd been so patient with him. So understanding. She never demanded anything. Let him run around, chasing his whores. Let him drink himself stupid, then crawl into her bed. In her.

Her fingers ran through his silver-white hair. Then the hand formed into a fist. She pulled him up.

"Harwin Breakbones' blood runs through my veins. You know it just as well as I do." Aegon hissed, hands reaching for the one that had pulled him back on his knees. "Trust me, next time you do something like that..."

Aegon's ears started ringing. She'd slapped him. Hard. Harder than anyone had ever struck him before.

"...I will..." Followed by another slap. "...break..."

Aegon groaned as she pulled him up, so he could stand on his feet. Then she slammed the same hand she'd used to pull him, against his throat. The Prince's head smacked against the wall behind him. She squeezed.

"...each and every bone in your body."

With how close she was to him, Aegon could feel her breath fanning over his neck. He choked as her grip got bruisingly strong. Small white dots appearing in front of his eyes, hiding her angry face from him.

"Strip." The woman said. "That's why you came here in the first place, right?"

Two shaking hands reached for the clasps of his doublet. Aegon undid them quickly, letting the piece fall to the ground as he tried to unbutton his undershirt.

"You wish to act like a wild, uncivilized whore..." She pushed him away, tearing through the buttons of his silk tunic and making them fly out in all directions. "So be fucking it. You'll be treated as such."

A sound came from deep inside her chest. She was laughing. A low, short laugh. Her hands dropped back to her side.

"Not my fault you don't know your place..."

Then they went back up, to Aegon's breeches.

"But you'll learn."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #prince aegon

1K notes · View notes

rainyhuman · 3 years

Text

how i remember the shadowhunters episodes! aka oh boy this got long

season 1

1x01 - the one w the magnus on his throne scene!!!

1x02, 1x03 - eps magnus is tragically not there in (although i remember 1x03 by the weird (read: cursed) camille and simon scenes OH AND the isabeliorn scene)

1x04 - obviously malec’s first meeting (oh and elias, we deserved more of him)

1x05 - ??? does luke become the alpha in this one

1x06 - MAGNUS’ BEST OUTFIT (ok maybe one of them i could never choose one) AND SHARING STRENGTH SCENE AND DRINKS ‘TO US’ SCENE

1x07 - lol is clace’s first kiss in this one

1x08 - oH magnus sees alec training shirtless

1x09 - alec tells magnus hes getting married

1x10 - TWI MY BELOVED (magnus and chairman and church 🥺💖 also just twi magnus in general)

1x11 - ??? OH incest reveal

1x12 - OFC WE ALL KNOW <3 MALEC’S FIRST KISS OH AND RAGNOR!!! (ragnor is alive btw he faked his death ty)

1x13 - lol jace gets taken away <3 (oh and camille is a bitch)

season 2

2x01 - oof great fight and great apology (SO PROUD OF MAGNUS IN THIS ONE)

2x02 - um?? no clue. OH SOME GOOD MAGNUS & SIMON CONTENT

2x03 - is this the parabatai ep

2x04 - jocelyn death... i think (ALSO MAGNUS’ BLUE OUTFIT AND ALSO MAGNUS SENDING CAMILLE TO THE CLAVE!!!)

2x05 - omggg malecs talk on the balcony

2x06 - MALEC’S FIRST DATE!! also the kiss after the date <33

2x07 - lol malec’s [air quote] first time [air quote] ALSO OMG OMAMORI SCENE

2x08 - oof the party and the drama <3

2x09 - ??? oh does alec punch raph in this one (no i did Not like that)

2x10 - ohhh boi the one where it all goes down. MALEC’S FIRST ILY OBVIOUSLY

2x11 - ahahah the one where it all starts going downhill! if only izzy had called alec..... if Only

2x12 - nope. no. idk this ep is erased from my memory (sh writers i think there were many better ways to have magnus talk about his childhood trauma)

2x13 - ohhh This One. some really great magnus scenes. his makeup is So pretty and also his scenes w dot, more about magnus’ history <3 (freddie <3)

2x14 - hMM oh downworld cabinet (OF COURSE THE mr. lightwood and mr. bane scene oh my fucking god)

2x15 - some Good magnus content once again (”there’s nothing ugly about you” SOBBING 😭😭)

2x16 - hmm magnus isnt in this ep, also alec finds out about the soul sword

2x17 - shit goes down... before shit goes down tho, malec have a super super super sweet kiss which i Love and also magnus looks Very Good

2x18 - HMM besides the obvious we get some REALLY GOOD FLASHBACKS and malec’s actual first time <3

2x19 - some broken up malec....

2x20 - beach fight!! (that is the funniest thing i’ve seen) and “i don’t think i can live without you”!!!

season 3

3x01 - some GOOD communication between malec <3 also pool scene!!

3x02 - ooh warlock party and shenanigans that follow (many malec scenes bitching on lorenzo AS THEY SHOULD)

3x03 - dinner w maryse,,, AND too domestic for my heart to handle cooking scene

3x04 - aaa the “we’ll make it through this” scene (my HEART)

3x05 - ah some malec angst (and alec makes some stupid decisions) and!! one of my fav magnus outfits

3x06 - some more malec angst AND drunk alec and also the whole family dinner thing djfhj hilarious <3

3x07 - malec hug in the institute,,, magnus blames himself for things he Shouldn’t

3x08 - magnus’ outfit in this one <33

3x09 - magnus is running himself ragged for no reason

3x10 - magnus loses his magic... Yeah. oh and also the last ten minutes of the ep are probably the best thing in the show objectively (meaning, when i’m thinking of the plot and not of malec)

3x11 - oh some magnus angst... APOTHECARY SCENE!! ALSO MADZIE SCENES!! AAAAND “oh you know how we get”

3x12 - ah ofc the training scene <3

3x13 - oo some good magnus & izzy interaction followed by some good lightwood siblings interaction

3x14 - oh wonderful magnus gets lorenzo’s piss magic and loses his apartment :/

3x15 - magnus... almost dies (also the jealousy scene djfdhj) aND HEIDI FINALLY DIES

3x16 - OOF THE ‘STAY WITH ME’ EP,,, malec’s dance scene and alec crying for the first time in the show (lol one tear) AND ALEC SAYING THAT MAGNUS IS HIS EVERYTHING

3x17 - some bad decisions are made... (ykw that should be the tagline of this show) and alec almost proposes,,, magnus breaks down (hsj oscar when)

3x18 - the best acted scene in the show... the malec breakup

3x19 - magnus wanders thru nyc because alec forgot he doesn’t have a fucking apartment! OH ALSO MAGNUS GETS HIS MAGIC BACK <3 ALSOOO some flashbacks <333 ugh the lock one <3 crying

3x20 - MALEC GET ENGAGED!!! also the most aesthetically pleasing scene in the show 👌 alec pulling magnus into a kiss (BY HIS LAPELS) with the world burning behind them <3

3x21 - aa some angst AND ALSO MALEC’S REUNION <333 (BEST HUG I SAID WHAT I SAID)

3x22 - mALEC GET MARRIED!!!!! ALSO THE ONE YEAR JUMP MALEC SCENE,,, LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE

#AYEE i did it #idk why i did it tho #send me asks if u want more bad (good) opinions cowards #shadowhunters #anti jace herondale #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #yall didnt ask for this i am Sorry™ with a trademark sign #tangent #@liv come get this

89 notes · View notes

fonulyn · 4 years

Note

If you're ever in the mood for an nsfw prompt, how about something where Leon puts on something sexy and shows Chris just how flexible he is? ;D

i’m always open for nsfw prompts! but i’m sorry, somehow i took one look at this and couldn’t stop thinking about this movie scene :’D so this is what came of it instead lol

---

Leon woke up to a headache to end all headaches. With a sigh he shifted a little, taking in his surroundings as he tried to remember just which one of his bad decisions the day before had landed him here. He was in bed in a strange hotel room that certainly wasn’t his, wearing only boxers and a large t-shirt that also certainly wasn’t his.

Sure he remembered the wedding, even most of the party. He remembered how beautiful Claire had been, how much she’d been smiling, and remembered toasting for her happiness more than once. There had been speeches, a lot of food and a lot to drink… loud music, so surely also dancing? Still, somewhere around the ninth glass of wine things started to get a little hazy, and Leon didn’t have any idea what had actually happened beyond that.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

The sudden voice made Leon sit up and whip his head around, only to regret it a second later as not only did the headache flare up but he was hit with such an intense wave of nausea he had to close his eyes for a moment. With a groan he brought a hand to his forehead, focusing until the worst of it faded. At least it gave him a moment to inwardly freak out, as he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

Leon was half dressed in a hotel room bed, and Chris fucking Redfield had just walked out of the bathroom, all wet and glistening, only a towel slung low around his hips, like an unfairly gorgeous piece of goddamn art.

And Leon couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. After all these years of carefully circling around each other and not taking the next step for the fear of screwing something up, he had fucked up, he had gotten so spectacularly drunk at Claire’s wedding that he’d slept with Chris. He’d risked a perfectly good friendship for a night of fun. He hadn’t even had the brains to do it right but he’d gotten greedy and…

Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

“Here. Take these.”

Carefully Leon looked up. Chris had gotten dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, the towel around his neck, and he was holding out a glass of water and painkillers for Leon to take. As Leon didn’t act on it immediately he waved his hand a little, and with a low chuckle Leon grabbed the glass. This was so typically Chris, seriously. Taking care of the people around him whether they wanted it or not. “Thanks,” he croaked out, swallowing the pills and downing the entire glass of water after them.

Chris took the glass from him, setting it aside before turning to look at Leon questioningly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like an idiot?” Leon hazarded a guess, certain that his smile turned out to be much more a grimace than anything.

“C’mon, I don’t judge,” Chris said, but the earnestness only lasted for a second and he let the smirk break free. “You could’ve gone for a worse analogy than the bobcat. But I gotta say, the pretzel was a little weird.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, before brushing his fingers through his wet hair.

The words, though, those left Leon stunned. “What.”

“The twisty pretzel?” Chris laughed, but then he must’ve seen something on Leon’s face as he suddenly turned more serious, looking at Leon from wide eyes. “You don’t remember?”

Leon could only groan. Goddamn his head still hurt. “The twis— Chris, what the fuck are you talking about?”

The expression on Chris’ face was something between worried, amused and kind of just fond. “So you don’t remember hanging off my arm, petting my bicep and telling it that it is, and I quote ‘the most gorgeous muscle in that sculpted body, regardless of what anyone else says’?”

Immediately Leon could feel all the blood draining off his face as he stared at Chris from wide eyes. “Oh god.”

Chris wasn’t done though, he shrugged and took a seat next to Leon on the bed, grinning widely at him. “Then you looked up at me and told me you were going to seduce me.”

This was it. Leon would die of mere mortification. He’d forgotten the best sex of his life, he’d slept with his best friend without even one goddamn memory of it, and he’d been an absolute idiot while hitting on him, to top it all. “Oh please, no.”

“Still rings no bells?” Chris laughed. “You said you’re like a bobcat in bed, and that I wouldn’t regret it if I took you home, and I gotta say I believe that. But you didn’t exactly give me the chance to even reply before you told me you can bend like a pretzel, like the twisty kind. You would’ve showed me, but you were kind of drunk, I don’t think you would’ve been able to stand on your own on two feet, much less only one.”

Truth to be told, Leon was sure that if someone could die of sheer embarrassment, it would happen to him any second now. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that if he ignored everything around him he maybe could pretend like none of that ever happened. “Chris, I…”

“I told you,” Chris interrupted him. Then there was a gentle hand on Leon’s jaw, urging him to look up again. Chris was smiling, but not in what seemed like a mocking way, but rather almost unbearably soft. “That I wanted to rather have this conversation when we’re both sober.”

Leon held his breath, almost scared to hope.

“I really don’t mind you seducing me,” Chris said, “but I’d rather you remember it. So,” he shrugged a little, explaining the rest, “I carried you up here, and I’m sorry if I crossed a line when I changed you for bed but I figured you’d rather not sleep in the suit. So yeah. That’s all of it. You didn’t even try to sleep-snuggle me, you were out cold.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Leon sighed, relief washing through him so forcefully he needed a second. Finally he felt like he was regaining his footing a little, and in a fit of courage he reached out and grabbed Chris’ hand in his own. “Okay, now we’re going to find some breakfast, and then…”

“Then?” Chris looked at him. Leon wanted to think that it was hope he saw in his eyes, too.

So Leon took the leap. He grinned. “Then I’m going to seduce you.”

#chreon #chris redfield #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #my fics #lmao idk what it is with all the #random ass handholding #but ANYHOW #sorry this isn't smutty like... at all lmao #Anonymous #ask and i shall answer #replies #chatty chat chat #my chreon fics

87 notes · View notes

magnoliawhetstone · 4 years

Text

h e a d c a n o n s, pt. 1

( tw: mentions of eating disorder )

When Lia is drunk/ tipsy she likes to act our favorite movie scenes—even if she’s alone. Most recently was the titanic scene (where she also got her knee suck in the balcony). She can quote all of the legally blonde courtroom scene and definitely knows the mean girls Christmas dance as well.

When Lia bakes, she has this small habit of humming or singing when she does so. Interestingly enough, for how involved baking is, she’d done it for so long she’s relatively good at shutting her brain down for a while when she does it. Or, at least, it takes all her energy to bake instead of overthink. It’s why she stress bakes so frequently and it’s also why she hums/sings when she does it. It’s mindless and she’d be embarrassed if anyone heard it–but she doesn’t always realize she’s doing it.

Surprisingly, while Lia’s favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, her favorite movie is Love Actually. She can quote most of the movie–as she can with most things she loves–and her favorite scene is when Hugh Grant dances to “Jump (For My Love)” by the Pointed Sisters. This is another scene she sometimes recreates when drunk.

Lia is not the biggest fan of Harry Potter. She doesn’t even know what house she’s in (its Ravenclaw but she can’t remember that). She never got into the series, never found it to be that interesting–magic didn’t quench her thirst the way some other books did…

Yes, that’s right. Magnolia Barnes was absolutely a Twi-Hard. You could not pull her away from these books–it was even worse since, at age 18, you’d think she would have had better taste. But no, she was #TeamJacob all the way. And yes, she did go see the movies when they came out. And yes, she did cry at the end. Don’t judge her.

Lia loves watching home renovation shows, though she literally has no reason to watch the show. She’s never had to do a home reno in her life. But she likes to imagine a day when she would–she thinks she’d be quite good at it. Sometimes about being able to use her hands in a meaningful way strikes her as soothing–its why she likes baking so much. She doesn’t have proof she’d be good at it, but she has a feeling she’d be pretty good with her hands if she can make delicate pastries so well.

Lia loves college football. Like absolutely adores it. Big Clemson gal, Tiger Rag is her jam. She remembered spending fall weekends at their Lake Keowee home so they could easily drive over to Clemson and go to a home game. Hates the Gamecocks with a passion. Rivalry weekend was her favorite time of year growing up–it was so full of excitement and energy. In fact, the most heated you might ever see Lia out of an argument is walking a Clemson football game. And yes she knows exactly what’s going on down on the field and if you ask her one more time if she’s sure–she will throw a piece of pie in your face.

Speaking of Clemson, Lia wanted to go there for college–get her degree in English. But she also had high dreams to be the baton twirler on the field–the one who dots the i with whatever family they’re celebrating that day in the pregame ceremony? Yeah, she wanted that. She thought that maybe she could mix the two worlds of hers, her two areas of interest–but no, that was never to be the case.

Lia grew up going to State fairs every summer–but never an amusement or theme park. She has never been to a planetarium, and her first trip to an Aquarium was with Beckett. Her first trip to a Zoo was with Ryder. So sure she’s ridden some rides, but it’s never been like most people have. It’s her dream to go to DisneyWorld one day and somehow, someway, stay in the Cinderella Suite. she’s watched enough youtube videos to know that not one gets to stay there but contest winners and celebrities, but still–a girl can dream.

While her peers took their vacations in Paris, Nice, Monaco and Italy, Lia’s father preferred north–like Amsterdam. Which, to be fair, was really very nice and Lia liked going. She even had a friend, Tess, who she’d hang out with when they would go on holiday as they called it. Tess was cool–she was into collecting model trains and really liked to read also. But then Tess’s parents sent her to boarding school after they had found out that she had been chatting with people online that she shouldn’t have been. Lia thought that sounded awfully harsh and hoped her parents would never do something like that to her. (Oh, irony)

When she’s sick, she doesn’t want chicken noodle soup, she wants wonton soup. Why? She doesn’t know, but she’s never liked chicken noodle soup. She thinks its the mushy carrots and celery. But wonton soup is essentially the same thing, but with a wonton and better flavor. She likes hers with spinach.

If toast is cut diagonal, she can’t eat it. Vertical squad for the win.

Big Bon Appetit fan. The quickest way to make her smile is to make her watch an episode of “one of everything” or “gourmet makes”. she might have a small crush on alex delany but we don’t talk about that.

Lia believe in aliens but not ghosts. She’s not big on conspiracy theories either–but she might be tempted by the stories at Denver Intentional Airport. She just can’t accept that humans are the only living things in the universe. That’s a lot for her–but she doesn’t go actively searching for them. Ghosts, on the other hand–she just never believed in them. Why would anyone want to haunt someone? Seemed like a weird power play to her. And no, despite what some people at the Malnati think, the moon is not made of cheese.

Lia is obsessed with spreadsheets. If you asked her what the dorkiest thing about her was–she’d tell you it was her planner and spreadsheets. She has a spreadsheet for probably every aspect of her life. her planner–which is really a bullet journal–is how she keeps track of things when she can’t get on her computer, but she has one for chores, her books, work, her bucket list, hell–even a bachelorette watch party she had a few years ago. She loves being organized.

Office supplies are her kryptonite. She absolutely loves blank notebooks and pens. She has a favorite pen for different things. Pentel RSVP RT Retractable Ball Point in black for everyday items, Staedleter fine tips felt pens for her bullet journal, sharpie pens for when she wants her notes to stand out, Zebra Mildliner for headers in her bullet journal or giving the pages shape. She is incredible persnickety on who can borrow what pen, and even keeps less important pens in her pencil bag just to lend out. And under very few circumstances will you ever see Magnolia Barnes using a pencil unless she has been required too. She hates the darn things.

Lia doesn’t swear–her mother taught her ladies don’t swear and while she doesn’t believe language as a gatekeeper for femininity anymore, the expectation still holds. So if you do hear her use a curse word, something is very very wrong.

Go to coffee order, you ask? Easy. Grande White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha with Blonde Espresso and Almondmilk and yes whipped cream. Sometimes she’ll get it with Raspberry instead. If its iced, it’s a tall and no whipped cream. However, she can also be bought over with a Venti Iced Guava Tea Lemonade with 8 pumps sweetener.

Lia has seen the Chatworth House–the house used as Pemberly in the Kiera Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice. While its not her all time favorite movie, she sure loves it still and begged her parents to take her one summer. They relented and it was everything she had dreamed of seeing.

It’s well known that Lia cannot dance–she often tells people she can only line dance and Viennese Walz, and the former only happens when she’s tipsy on PBRs.

Lia loves sleeping with windows open because she can’t sleep in silence. The white noise of the city helps relax her and and makes her sleep easier.

However, she must read in silence–any noise will distract her and she gets relatively grumpy if anyone interrupts her reading. She also adores reading by a window. She likes the way the natural lights illuminates the pages.

Words are some of Lia’s favorite things–she thinks they’re magic. So loves the way they sound and likes to think about the way they feel in her mouth and how they roll off the tongue. She does her best to take her time when speaking too–because if words are so important, its better to get them right the first time. (Although perhaps she would learn that getting it right may not always be nearly as important as saying something at all).

(tw: eating disorder) Not many people know this, but after the book incident, Lia has begun to go to therapy. Her counselor, Tonya, has been helping her try to work through what things are Lia and what things are Lia’s mother. They haven’t gotten to the eating disorder conversation yet–and Lia dreads it. because Lia has never used the term out loud–in fact, the only time it was ever spoken was by the doctor the night of the incident. She has never named it and technically never claimed it out loud–though she knows its true in her heart.

Lia hates pickles. Don’t know why, but she thinks they are gross. Also parmesan cheese.

Magnolia loves horses–perhaps not the extend of others, but she had grown up riding them and when she rode them, she always sensed a freedom that was just out of reach at home. Perhaps that was because who was always riding wit her, but she doesn’t like to dive deep into that. It complicates things (that maybe needed to be complicated, just sayin’). Leaving her childhood horse Butternut was like leaving a pet (something the Barnes did not have as Lia grew up). Butternut and her went on a lot of adventures together, usually along side Buttersquash and Jack. It was good squad.

Lia’ favorite dessert is Mrs. Whetstone’s peach cobbler–and she has pour her life’s work into recreating it since she never asked for the recipe before she left. Every time she tries, she feels like she gets a little closer, but its never quite right. But it does remind her of home and its one of those memories she loves dearly. Anyone who asks her, though, what her favorite dessert is, she’ll say cheesecake because nothing even compares in her mind to that cobbler and she doesn’t want something to try to do something that will never reach what she expects. And she does love cheesecake.

Favorite flavor of yogurt? Chobani Raspberry Lemonade. Its only available in the summertime, but boy is it worth the wait.

#tw eating disorder #[[homecoming queen?; headcannons]]#if any of these spur plots lmk!!!

9 notes · View notes

sevensolar · 4 years

Text

Innocent or Guilty

Asked someone to marry you? — “Guilty. Twi --- three times? Three times. Two said yes. Clearly since I’m single things did not turn out well.”

Kissed one of your friends? — “Guilty. Who hasn’t?”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern? — “Guilty. A few times over guilty and I can’t even claim that I was smashed all of those times.”

Ever told a lie? — He laughs, and continues laughing. “Guilty as fuck.”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have? — “Hmm...guilty. When I was younger for sure.”

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? — “Guilty. I’m bisexual so pretty often.”

Kissed a picture? — “Innocent? I could have done it when I was drunk and don’t recall.”

Slept until 5pm? — “Guilty, just did last weekend. I’m a night person.”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant? — “Innocent. Not my cup of tea.”

Stolen something? — He just laughs. That was enough of a response, right?

Been fired from a job? — “Guilty. I did a lot of odd jobs when younger but I also hated being bossed around.”

Done something you regret? — “Guilty. Plenty of things, won’t go into details.”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? — “Innocent. I’ve had some hard laughs in my life but I’m more prone to snorting than squirting things out of my nose.”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? — “Guilty. All kids do this at some point.”

Sat on a roof top? — “Guilty, they’re a nice little escape.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have? — “Guilty. I’ve kissed a lot of people I probably shouldn’t have. Fun times.”

Sang in the shower? — “Guilty, but I have a decent voice so I don’t make the dogs outside howl.”

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? — “Guilty. Nothing quite like an unexpected dip in the cold sea to sober you up.”

Shaved your head? — “Innocent. I’d look terrible bald.”

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? — “Guilty...”

Shot a gun? — “Guilty, I own a couple too.”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? — “Innocent, I think. In the past I would have said yes but I’m not sure that was love.”

Have / had a tattoo? — “Guilty, I have a partial sleeve and some knuckle tattoos. I’ll probably get more at some point.”

Liked someone, but will never tell who? — “Innocent. I’m not a teenager.”

Been too honest? — “Guilty. This probably goes hand in hand with the making the girl/boy friend cry one.”

Ruined a surprise? — “Innocent! I’m good with secrets.”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? — “Guilty. Although handsome or hot is usually used, I think I would enjoy being called beautiful.”

Stalked someone? — “Innocent. Yikes. No thanks.”

Thoughts about murder? — “Guilty. I feel like everyone has these thoughts.”

How about mass murder? — “Guilty. Have you been around groups of teenagers?”

Cheated on someone? — “Yeahhhh, guilty. I learned monogamy is probably not for me.”

Gotten so angry that you cried? — “Guilty. The waterworks had been pent up for so long they run pretty freely now.”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? — “Guilty. Not the best influence.”

Thoughts about suicide? — “Guilty..”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend? — “Guilty. Had a couple of each throughout the years. Been awhile.”

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? — “Guilty as fuck. Isn’t that what the holidays are for??”

Tagged by: @bluexepher Tagging: @revenant-divine @deadlypursuits @kira-seastar @godscharms @fel-over @shal-on-main @gustsofmoondust @latildarommel @desolatedangel @unabashedrebel

#info #character info

12 notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

what do you know?

part one; Roger Taylor x OC.

summary: Maria Alton, a famous british writer, and Roger Taylor, the also-famous rockstar, have been together for over ten years and Mr Taylor thinks it's finally time to take their relationship to the next level. Everything goes smoothly, until one late evening in their house in London.

warnings: mentions of sex and cheating, nothing graphic, sad things?

main masterlist

borhap masterlist

roger masterlist

It's already dark outside, and the temperature had decreased, as well. Maria's office light is still on, though, and she isn't done signing her legality papers. Her cup of tea is almost empty, but the only tea there could be is cold already. She glances into it and sighs. Then she glances at the clock behind the cup and her eyes widen a little. It's late, she should go home.

Maria stands up from her chair and puts all her papers in the correct order and a neat pile. She puts her pens in the holder and then takes a sticky note, writes “I'll finish these tomorrow :)” on it with a pencil and sticks the note on the pile of papers. Maria takes her bag and the mug, and puts the mug in the small kitchen next to her office. She puts on her coat and before shutting all the lights off, she thinks that she has to call Roger to tell him she's coming home. Then she decides against it, and shuts off all the lights and locks her office.

Roger had asked for Maria's hand in marriage just a few weeks ago. She, happy as ever, let him have her as a wife. They had already arranged a place and date on their wedding and now the pair had to think of all the details. Maria knew that Roger would be too lazy to organise anything, so naturally, she would take the wheel for most things.

Maria doesn't take a cab home, since walking to their house takes only half an hour or so. It's not too cold to be outside yet, nearing the end of September, so she won't catch a cold even if she tried. As she walks down the nearly empty streets of the city, Maria thinks about their engagement and the upcoming wedding. She looks at the ring on her finger and giggles excitedly. Just like when she was in school - when the guy she liked asked her to the dance.

She feels exactly the same now, except it's not the guy, it's Roger. The love of her life, the most important person in her life. Since Maria's parents died in a car crash not long after she graduated high school, she hasn't known anyone as long as she has Roger. He was the sort of saving light for her at that time, when they met in university.

Their relationship hadn't started straight away, although Roger wanted it to. Maria kept denying him of dates or study dates or anything of that sort. Being the wonderful guy he is, Roger respected that and they stayed as good friends through out university. All through those years, Maria had wondered what these strange feelings were for Roger. And when he asked her to dance at their graduation party, she realised exactly what they were.

Maria felt as happy as ever when she was with Roger. He really made her remember what it was to smile, laugh and be care-free. He taught her to love and find love again without acknowledging it. She couldn't be more thankful to whatever or whoever it was who brought Roger into her life.

Maria's part in Roger's life is also huge. She means everything to him. Since the first day he saw that sad and serious, yet beautiful face of hers, he had wanted nothing more than to be the reason for her smile. Roger fell in love with her strong and well-grounded opinions, they way she wasn't afraid to speak up in front of anyone and how she corrected the teachers if there was a solid mistake that couldn't be looked at through your fingers.

Roger fell in love with her whole being, and he simply couldn't live if he didn't have her. The reason Maria denied him through out university was “I can't focus on my studies and a relationship, Roger. It's either you or university.” Roger had chuckled at her statement and brushed some hair out of her face as Maria was writing in her notebook. Her face remained serious and focused and Roger just sighed, looking at her in adoration. That's what he truly admires about her - she won't give up her work for any guy in the world, even him, whom she was madly in love with (without her even knowing).

When Roger told Maria that he was in a band and wanted to play drums for a living, she was a little shocked, but not too much. She saw how music had taken its toll on him on the first year of university, and how he would always drum on the table with his fingers or stamp his foot to a random song's rhythm that was stuck in his head during their shared classes. One time, before he told her he'd started taking drumming lessons, Roger got so loud that a professor sent him out of class. Roger had gave Maria a cheeky wink before going out, and she had rolled her eyes at him.

After that, Maria always studied in an abandoned room of the university while Roger played drums in the same room. He wanted her to watch him play, he wanted her to guess the songs he was playing, he wanted to hear her opinion about his playing. Frankly, Maria's ears were tired of his loud playing and she in no way could give him an opinion on drum skills. She was no music expert, only maybe in rock groups. But she told him every time that he plays great, and that she'd love to hear more. And next time, she would regret ever saying that because of how much studying she needed to do for herself and Roger.

When Roger announced that he was in a band, Maria was ecstatic and wanted immediately to see him perform on a stage. She asked questions about his band, and he told her, not really seeing the point, though. On the night of their first gig at a near-by bar, Maria met his band mates Tim and Brian. Just like him—being regular university boys—they were big flirts. Roger had told them about his fancying of Maria, which meant they were even flirtier with her when Roger was around. It made Maria a bit confused, but the boys had a fat laugh about Roger's reaction.

Turns out that from not giving up gigs and a band that would—in the opinion of everyone else—lead them nowhere, they actually got pretty far. Many number one hits in America and Europe, new songs on the way, successful tours, loving fans... What more could a small student band from London want?

It was hard, at first, to accomodate Roger's lifestyle, with all the interviews, horny girls, barely being home, parties, recording sessions. But Maria, being the responsible and practical person, managed both of their time so that her and Roger's relationship wouldn't fail. It was the most wonderful relationship anyone had the opportunity to witness, really.

They worked like a team and were so in love with each other that everyone wanted to be around them and talk to them. Roger and Maria were constantly holding hands or being near each other, it's simply how they worked. Despite their busy careers, the pair were happy together.

Maria's writing career is the most important thing in her life, except Roger. She speaks out all her dreams, thoughts, fantasies and “lessons of life” in books. It's how she gets rid of all the bothering thoughts in her head, and how she can inspire others. Words are her thing, Maria knows how to speak to people, and which words to say at the right moment, also a favourite thing of Roger's about her.

Asking for her hand in marriage will always be the happiest moment of Maria's life. It was unexpected. Right after their “News Of The World” tour had ended, the band and their wives were having a little get-together at Freddie's house. They were all in another room, waiting anxiously and watching Roger propose to Maria. Once she said yes, they all broke out of the hallway and congratulated the freshly engaged couple. So much for a lovely private moment...

Maria is a best-selling author in London, and in some nearest cities in England. She's almost as famous as Roger, it's what they like to laugh about between them both. Maria's a very punctual and serious woman, she likes order and rules, but also likes to have her fun. She's always picking up after Roger, always cleaning his plates, throwing out his cigarettes, doing his laundry.

Maria chuckles at a memory of Roger trying to do his own laundry just as she's pushing her keys into the slot. She's practically home, and she sighs in relief. Maria takes out the key once she has unlocked her door and pushes it open. What takes her by surprise is what she sees when her living room comes into view.

Her fiancée of three weeks is on the sofa, simply laying down as it seems at first, his back being embraced by a foreign pair of arms. Maria wants to check herself to see if, accidentally, she's the owner of those arms. And she's not. Giggles can be heard through out the room and once Maria spots another head of blonde locks, her bag drops down to the floor.

Apparently, Roger and the blonde stranger heard the drop and both sit up in the sofa, startled a little. Maria's eyes only watch how Roger's face changes expressions in each second passing. She's currently in too much shock to say or do something.

Roger stands up from the sofa and Maria watches him put his belt back in place while he stumbles towards her. He's drunk. “Maria, baby, I—” He starts to say, and that makes tears form in Maria's eyes. “It's not—”

“What it looks like?” She asks and her voice breaks. He's trying to lie through the obvious black on white truth. Really? Maria can't even look at him. Her gaze reaches the ceiling, and the wall behind him, the floor beneath him, anywhere but his drunken face and guilty eyes. “Then what is it?” She shoots him an irritated glance, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I was, uh...” Roger tries to say something, waving his hands around. His head moves to the mysterious blonde on the sofa. Maria looks at her and if eyes could kill, she would be massacred.

“Get out!” Maria shouts at her. The girl's face is twisted by fear and she immediately gets up from the sofa. She's young, Maria notes, and the fact makes her heart churn up. She grabs her coat and shoes, and starts putting them on. Maria's impatient. “Get OUT!” She shouts again, even louder now. The blonde takes her shoes in hand and runs out of the apartment. Maria shuts the door behind her.

“No need to be so rude to her.” Roger says. Maria scoffs and looks at him.

“Really? I can't be rude?! And you can—“ She stops talking and looks away. There's no need for this. Roger's obviously lost interest in her in every way, and the young girl is certainly more interesting right now. No need to ask him questions, everything's laid out to see.

Roger steps closer to her, and Maria immediately takes a step back. “That was nothing, sweetheart, I swear, she's only—” He starts talk, but the cold stare Maria gives him shuts him up in a second. Roger doesn't really know what to say to her to make everything better. There isn't a word, really, to make anything better about having another girl in their shared apartment.

Maria looks at him and starts to tear up. Roger wants to wipe those tears and kiss the pain away. Maria wipes her own tears and then sighs. “I don't want to see you.” She admits. “Please get out of my apartment.”

“It's ours, darling.” Roger says.

“Get out, Roger.” It pains her to say those things, but she has to. Roger has to go right now, and Maria will figure the rest out after he's gone. Roger stands still in his spot. He either can't move or doesn't want to. “What's not clear, Roger?! Get out of my sight!”

Her eyes are furious and full of fire when they look at Roger's tear filled ones. He's slightly afraid of her, and afraid to say anything, but he has to. “Maria, love,” he starts to say, and his voice cracks, “I don't want to go.” Maria shrugs. “If you could talk with me, give me a minute, I will—”

“Explain? Sure! Tell me all about how you met...” She can't even say a word about the blonde, yet her mind is already writing angry letters about her.

“Just give me a day. Any day, I'll be free. For you.” Roger offers with an extended arm. Maria's eyes don't reach his. She's tired and angry, and wants no one to touch or bother her. A few minutes later of Maria thinking, she has decided what to do.

“Meet me on Friday at lunch time. My office. I'll give you thirty minutes of my time to give me reasons why we should still... marry.” She says and looks up at Roger. “Until then, I want you out of my eyes.”

Roger nods eagerly and a tear slips down his cheek. “I'll be there, I promise you, I will.” He says. You also promised to marry me and no one else, Maria thinks.

She looks down at her hand and notices the ring. She takes it off her finger and tosses it to Roger, who catches the ring, despite his surprise. His eyes scan over the small object and then he eyes Maria with hurtful eyes.

“Get out, Roger.” She says in full seriousness. “I won't ask you a fifth time.” Maria leaves the door open for him and walks further into their apartment, ready to take a shower and go to sleep alone.

Roger watches as the supposed love of his life walks away from him and sighs quietly. He takes the keys of his car and puts on his shoes. A coat covers his cold shoulders and he walks out. Roger lingers for a while, looking behind his shoulder.

A day-dream of Maria coming back to him appears before his eyes, and he blinks to make sure it's real. She's not running, she's not even there. Roger's head hangs down and he sighs in slight disappointment. He reaches his arm out and closes the door behind him.

Perhaps, after all these years, it wasn't meant to be, Roger thinks when he lays down in a hotel bed. A voice at the back of his head disagrees with that and says it's a lie, but Roger doesn't hear it. He drifts to sleep soon after, having nothing but violent dreams about his inner pain.

#roger taylor #queen fic #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fan fic #queen fan fic #queen fan fiction #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x you #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor x maria alton #what do you know?#part one #fan fic #fic #fics #borhap #bohemian rhapsody

46 notes · View notes

countessofbiscuit · 6 years

Text

Dollface

For @celebrate-the-clone-wars’ Writing Wednesday Prompt “Your Reputation Precedes You” Rating: M Words: 2414 Inspired by The Adventures of Doll Rex.

(If there isn’t a 69′s in a universe with a 79′s, I’m calling bs)

Having spent themselves silly, the boys in blue who’d brought the house down were long gone, and 69’s grew dull again. The exhibitionism continued, sure, the dancing was always pleasing in a kind of mindless way, and when things got really boring, the massage droid in the break room had a lekku setting that induced comas—it was almost enough to make a showgirl consider marriage.

But the circus this wasn’t. There used to be wardrobe brawls and stampeding reeks and everything. The only adrenaline high to be had here was shaking up assholes who tried to stiff her colleagues until their credits and their shame fell out. A civilian crime, and a dwindling one. The soldiers never did that. Ursula fleeced them for admittance—the bigot—then got mad when the staff stretched the poor sods’ pocket change by giving them free drinks because they were polite and very, very pretty. Oh they made noise. Lots of it. But they viciously policed their own and didn’t put their hands where they shouldn’t. And not just because they thought they might get charged.

They were … “shiny.” And two meters of broad, blood-red Twi might scare the shit out of anybody whose first experience with boobs was two hours ago and three levels up, when they got squished against someone on the dance floor or got flashed by a waitress.

Hence the boredom of a somewhat self-conscious girl who doesn’t like working a room for tips.

“Lala, that’s for you,” chirps Diohn when Laa’let returns from the freshers.

She stops fidgeting with her bra and rebuilding circuses in the sky and glances at the Zabrak bartender. Diohn points at the counter, then returns to digging through the mixer chiller.

A doll is sitting on the end of the bar.

It’s propped up around a bright red cocktail, looking stupidly drunk, resting its chin on the rim of a glass about as wide as its comical face. Laa’let narrows her eyes at the arrangement. A clone. She recognizes the little flared skirt and shoulder decoration—and the golden top of one of those boys in blue. She scans the club for any that fit the description, but it’s just a throbbing sea of maroon sweats and crumpled greys, with a shrinking handful of businessmen pressed against the edges of the room; the only troopers in plates are the wrong color, and most of them are sitting along the rack, where they’ve figured out that two shoulder wings promise some seriously advanced recon—a much more exciting and personal show than anything happening at the bar.

“Who?” asks Laa’let.

“Didn’t see,” Diohn shrugs from inside the chiller, “they just left credits. And a note.”

Laa’let slides up towards the drink, ignoring the vulgar garnish—a cherry shoved in between a split taffy stem. The script is very regular, but the napkin is torn on the angles, like they couldn’t get the pressure right:

For the Ruby Rancor ♥

She grates the sharp tips of her teeth together. “You said you wouldn’t make it a drink.”

“I didn’t! I swear!” Diohn takes her own dulled molars to the cap of a bottle and spits it in the trash. “But you should stop fighting it. It’s definitely caught on.”

“Then what’s with this,” Laa’let says. It’s not just the garnish that’s offensive. Diohn’s clearly chosen her most bulbous glass, and she must have some campari, premixed to the perfect shade, chilling in a jug somewhere.

“That’s just me doing my fucking job. Now you should do yours.”

Diohn won’t share her tips forever, but Laa’let has her limits. Maybe too many of them for this career. “It’s not my job to talk to dolls.”

“Talking to cute faces with nothing but stuffing between their ears? I’d say that’s definitely in your contract. Roll out some carnival tricks.”

Laa’let’s lekku stiffen. “Circus. And I was a fucking acrobat.”

“Whatever. There’s still an audience—and maybe they’ll tip.”

It’s not an audience if you didn’t invite it, she refrains from saying, it’s an embarrassment. Too much like real life. With a frown, Laa’let swipes the drink, and the doll flops face down onto the chromium counter. Pathetic.

“Hand me that,” she says, snapping her fingers at an open bubblezap bottle.

Diohn giggles and swiggs the dregs. “Awww, someone’s had one too many!”

Laa’let maneuvers the doll into a seated position against the bottle, mindful of the oversized head. Its eyes are fixed off to the side, as if deliberately avoiding her boobs. “I need to get on his level. Is this a double?” she asks, stirring the drink once with the garnish.

One of Diohn’s liberal shots cascades over her peach fingers as she preps a line of Fuzzy Yodas—frothy, green, and strong enough to make you talk backwards. “You’ll have a nice time. I promise.”

Laa’let pulls out one of the lethris barstools and drops onto it. She hates sitting on these chairs. They’re sticky and undersized, like everything else here—even the ceiling is too low to accommodate her best tricks on stage. It’s maddening to be reduced to pantomime, the feeling of holding herself by halves, but Diohn’s right. She’s still a consummate performer, she’s still on the clock, and she’s still fucking broke.

“So,” Laa’let begins, taking a long sip that melts her sinuses and makes her damn nipples hard, “I’m new to this job and don’t have a lot of conversation up my sleeve, so do you want tragic backstory or tragic backstory?”

The little soldier makes big eyes at the turquoise Togruta on stage, but doesn’t indicate a preference.

“Tragic backstory it is. You might think it all started when my parents sold me to some charlatan in a travelling circus. Or when my growth spurt went on two years too long and I couldn’t get health insurance—did you know organs over a meter long are considered a pre-existing condition?”

She’s got her lekku draped over her shoulders and she shakes the tip of one in the little soldier’s face.

“Speciesist, I know. Free Porn Taa is laughably small in every department, so it’s not a priority for him. And the Togs aren’t represented in the Senate—not that healthcare is a priority there either.”

“Ugh, Lala,” groans Diohn, loudly dumping an armful of bottles into the bin as she passes by. “Politics? At my bar? No wonder he’s bored.”

Laa’let makes a rude gesture at Diohn’s back. “Anyway,” she says to the disinterested doll, “things really didn’t go downhill for me until the fucking Zillo Beast.”

The rack around Tosha’s stage erupts in applause when she finishes her routine. Another charming clone thing. It’d never occurred to them not to clap.

“Did I see it? You bet your plastic ass I did. Three of its gnarly legs came crashing through the roof during my act.”

Just for something to do, Laa’let takes the garnish from her drink and starts to trace a wet rendering of the monster that ruined her life on the counter.

“Squashed half the audience. I fell into the netting, along with all the buttresses, and was buried with broken ribs for three damn days. And this is where having no health insurance, no transferable skills, and no tolerance for animal abuse lands you,” she says, gesturing at the room, humid and a hazy red in the house lights, like an oversized womb.

Laa’let follows the little soldier’s gaze again. Tosha’s now working the rack for tolls. She’s got her knees on either side of one trooper’s ears, gripping him by his red shoulder wings as he gently tucks some funny money into her panties, ruffled and pink like cotton candy.

“Look, I know she’s topless and I’m not, but you could at least pretend to pay attention.”

A trooper in purple plates, very much paying attention, suddenly materalizes next to the doll. Laa’let takes in his double wings and his skirt—has she been performing for a fancy ARC?—and then moves onto his hair. It’s shaved into a landing strip across his skull and down his chin, and she can’t help wonder if the landscaping extends below the belt, too.

“There you are, Rex!” he declares, smiling broadly like he’d be very happy to enlighten her. “Who’s your pretty friend?” He gives a wave with one of the doll’s stubby arms.

This part always makes Laa’let nervous. What seemed like a good idea when she was eighteen and angry now made her job—wooing credits out of beings already much smaller than herself—very difficult.

“Doesn’t your friend know it’s rude not to stare?” she says, as softly as she can over the synth-glimmik pumping from the speakers, shielding her fangs with full lips—the only gift her mother gave her.

“My apologies, ma’am,” answers the trooper while ogling her tits for both of them. “He said he knew you, but he was probably talking out of his shebs.”

“Nah, he’s just shy. He doesn’t know how to ask,” comes a rumble in her cone. Another trooper pokes his head over her shoulder and starts taking mental soundings down her cleavage.

Mindful of the bulk of her lek, she turns to glance at his plates—also purple, also winged. “Ask what?”

The second one tilts his pretty face up. His hair curls in a way Laa’let recognizes as attractive to humans, and thick black stripes on his cheeks somehow brighten his green eyes, which sparkle at her with all the optimism of someone about two drinks in. “How much to blow bubbles?”

Laa’let takes a moment to parse this phrasing. The soldiers have a funny way of talking, but blowing bubbles is a far cry from their usual slang, crude and derived from military words she doesn’t understand. But eyes speak a pretty universal language, and theirs are glued to her red rack. If anyone’s going to introduce face fapping to the clone lexicon, it won’t be her.

But Green is far too cute to be allowed to bury those sweet cheeks so soon. The cheroot smoking on his breath is making her heart flutter, and she downs the rest of her drink.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Jock, ma’am. And that fastidious fucker’s Muse.”

She struts her long fingers atop the bar towards the doll and starts to toy suggestively with his little skirt. “Well, Jock, boys in blue get things on the house,” Laa’let teases with a smile, not bothering about the fangs. If these two are going to spook, better get the disappointment over with.

Muse sits his ass straight down for the long haul, and Jock hovers even closer.

“And boys in other colors?” he mumbles, brushing the back of a finger down her shoulder, evidently still full of hope. That he doesn’t go straight for her plushy lek says he’s got manners, and Laa’let feels her bum go warm on the barstool.

“What makes purple boys special?” she asks, genuinely curious. She’s not encountered any troopers in this soft shade before, and 69’s does a good trade in color—every dancer’s got their favorites, but it’s considered good luck to get crisp tips off a new one. They think it means you’re a trooper’s first; Laa’let just suspects a counterfeit operation somewhere.

“We’ve got walkers and big, fuck-off tanks with psycho warfare tech” and “we’re an elite, hypermobile, armored reconnaissance unit” are the simultaneous answers.

Muse makes a disapproving face at his comrade and straightens up a little when he clarifies. “We’re the 113th Armored Infantry Battalion, ma’am.”

“And the color?” she asks, fingering the lining of Jock’s skirt. Maybe she could get him down to nothing but this, then bribe it off him? The lethris on these things is pretty lush, given it’s army issue.

“Commander’s orders,” says Jock, beaming. “Matches our Jedi’s sabers.”

“Who’s your Jedi?” Laa’let prods, wondering how much two elite soldiers will leak over big tits.

Jock squints at Muse. “I think that’s classified?”

“Definitely classified.”

“He’s sealed tight but … I’m working on it,” Jock assures her with a wink, mischievous and loaded. She can’t tell if he means his Jedi, Muse, or both, but his playfulness is certainly working on her. Even if Diohn hasn’t just made herself conspicuous, inquiring with gestures about the status of flimsi in fingers.

Laa’let smiles, plucks the doll from the counter, and dumps him headfirst into her cleavage.

“Steady on, Rex,” gasps Muse, wide-eyed, grinning stupidly between the doll and slack-jawed Jock.

“For you two,” she begins, giving the little head a very illustrative shake, “this is ten…”

Using the nubbed arms, Laa’let pushes the golden top of her dress down, popping out one ivory nipple, then the other, conscious that she’s already given away about fifteen credits. “Handsies is twenty...”

Flipping the little doll over by the arms, she lets him come to rest where creamy fabric melts into the divot between her hips. Her senses are alight with human! now that Jock’s knees have failed him and his head’s propped up on her shoulder. Her right lek tingles against his balmy cheek. She returns Muse’s puppet wave. “And anything more is subject to performance review.”

“We…” Muse begins, opening and closing his mouth like a blurrg on spice, “we’ve only got twenty between us.”

Laa’let bites her lip and bounces the doll in her broad lap, like she isn’t preparing to inflate more than just their manual scores. She’s flipped her glass and her tits are out. Diohn better be getting her a fucking room.

“Tell you what. Twenty plus this little trooper and you might find I’m big enough to share.”

. . . . .

[CT-61-6898] Are you seated

[CT-27-5555] in briefing w some top squares knock me down my ombre hombre

[CT-61-6898] … RIP Cpt Rex

[CT-27-5555] ! what did those dumbfucks do

[CT-27-5555] its only been 12 hrs we r still in the system ffs

[CT-27-5555] facts tho he was ltd edition not even rex actual has one

[CT-61-6898] unnamed.holo

[CT-27-5555] ! u perv what did u fucking do to him

[CT-61-6898] Shit That wasn’t for you Wrong holo

[CT-27-5555] too late ...rip smokecheck

[CT-27-5555] commdr tano likes ur paintjob

[CT-61-6898] You fucking wish (...but I’ll pass on the compliment)

[CT-27-5555] so he didn’t get creampied good 2 know what happened

[CT-61-6898] rexnruby.holo

[CT-27-5555] !

[CT-61-6898] Is he scuba qualified

[CT-27-5555] !

[CT-61-6898] Muse is sorry not sorry Rex was sacrificed for the mission He did give me a datachip instead

[CT-27-5555] WORTH IT

Smokecheck belongs to tiend. The 113th bros and Miss Laa’let are mine.

#writing wednesday #clone troopers #the clone wars #captain rex #fives #laa'let #biscuit fic #the little alor'ad #don't share toys kids #age appropriate clone shenanigans #clones

19 notes · View notes