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[silvergasm]

﹟　MIDNIGHT RIDE　﹕johnny 　x 　afab!reader　︵︵

smut :: johnny took you out for a midnight ride in night city and it ended up you on his lap riding him in the back of his 911 porsche, fun right? warnings :: car sex (obviously), nipple play, johnny calls you 'doll'

Not all what you thought would happen tonight, the text message he sent you asking if you wanna go ride around night city at this hour of the night, he's bored and he always liked taking you along with him when he's bored and reckless.

This night was one of those nights, reckless. As soon you got into that car of his he drove around night city.

You were surprised by how well he drove. Considering him not taking a liking to rules and laws, maybe he was trying to impress you? which is strange for a cocky stuck-up man like he is.

Right now you were straddled on his hips, your shirt pulled up and your bra abandoned. Same with the pants you wore, the only thing you were 'wearing' was your shirt.

There wasn't much room in the backseat of his Porsche, but you and him managed, your knees were on the sides of his thighs while his mouth worked on your left nipple, and had both of his hands- 'organic and metal- on your hips, snapping you down onto his girth.

You can't even remember what had happened before this point, how this even happened, you weren't complaining, more so moaning than complaining.

"Johnny-mmph, fuck-... 's good," you whined out, your nails digging into his fleshy and muscled shoulders. Which made Johnny snap his hips against yours, you couldn't think when his mouth is sucking on your tit and his dick is stretching you out like you're slime.

You were quite sure he was going to leave a hickey, a dark purple ring around your nipple from how much he sucked on your nipple. So you weakly and numbly pulled his head back, in which he grinned at that.

"C'mon Doll, you got- haah...- great tits, I gotta suck 'em..." he thrusted into you, which broke the string that was holding your mind. You moaned so loud he was almost impressed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist now, holding you down onto his dick. You were close as well, and you figured he was too. He knew damn well he was going to fill you up in his car, he needed that.

"W...Wait- Johnny-... mmgh, won't you st-stain your seats?!" You whined, worried about leaving a mark on the seats in his car, "Do I look like I give a damn, doll?" He huffed, then he licked a stripe up your tit, which give you goosebumps upon goosebumps.

" 'Sides, I'll always remember how I fucked your brains out in the back of my car... and how good it was." He murmured, you were whining and moaning while he sped up more. "That's it... fuck you feel good doll.." he groaned out.

Then the ropes broke, he'd came in you and you came onto him. Which did leak onto the seat but you and he didn't give a damn really, you leaned on him breathing so heavily.

He took your chin in his cool metal hand and made out with you.

[liliacsdelight]

Tokyo Revengers Hcs: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

TR Men x Blackfem!reader

You come home with a thoughtful present, they register it in their own appreciative way, then time skip to them already balls-deep, raw and rough, their gratitude or obsession spilling out in different forms. Featuring: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano, Ken “Draken” Ryūguji, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Shuji Hanma, Kazutora Hanemiya, Chifuyu Matsuno, Takashi Mitsuya, Hakkai Shiba, Ryohei "Peh-yan" Hayashi, and Seishu "Inupi" Inui .

❤︎18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ❤︎

Manjiro "Mikey" Sano

You come back from a trip with a bag of sweets, the ones he grew up eating. His eyes widen, then narrow—like he doesn’t want you to see how much it gets to him. “You always remember shit like that,” he says, voice flat, but his hand lingers too long over yours when he takes the candy.

Time skip—he’s buried in you, dick stretching you slow, deliberate. His eyes are sharp, lips twisted in something between a smirk and a sneer. “Brat. Always spoiling me. Think you can buy my love?” His hips snap forward, sudden and deep, making you yelp. He keeps you pinned, legs hooked over his shoulders, fucking you so deep your belly aches.

But his hands tremble where they grip your thighs. His jaw tight, voice ragged: “You belong to me, y’hear? Not going anywhere. Ever.” You nod frantically, lips brushing his. You kiss him deep, mouth reverent, hands worshipful as they trail. His thrusts turn brutal, shoving you into the mattress, making the frame groan. You choke out his name, already cumming again, and he doesn’t let up, staring down with wild devotion. He leans close, whispering harsh in your ear: “I’d kill for you. Don’t forget that.”

-

Ken “Draken” Ryūguji

You show up at the garage with takeout, the exact noodles he craves after long hours. He blinks at the bag, then at you, like he can’t quite process how you always know what he needs. “You think about me too much,” he mutters, low, almost like it bothers him. But he eats every bite with you sitting on his lap, your thighs spread wide across his.

Time skip—his cock is driving into you from behind, desk rattling under the force. One massive hand on your hip, the other on the back of your neck, holding you bent forward. “Always so fucking sweet,” he starts, hips slamming hard enough to make your breath catch. You moan his name, cunt clenching around him, and his grip tightens. “This pussy—” he grits his teeth, fucking you deeper, meaner, “—mine. All mine. You take care of me, so I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.”

You cry out, fingers scrambling against the wood, thighs quivering as another orgasm tears through you. But your hips push back because your body is greedy, no matter how far gone your mind is. And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t soften. His chest presses to your back, hot, sweaty, voice breaking near your ear: “Love you, girl. Don’t even know what to do with you but this.”

I would do unspeakable things to this man...

-

Ran Haitani

You toss a sleek watch box at him—you’d noticed his old one cracking. He smirks, slow, sharp. “You keepin’ tabs on me, baby girl?” He slips it on, the gold gleaming against his wrist. His grin is wolfish. “Spoiled little thing, takin’ care of me like this. You know what that makes you?”

Time skip—his dick is dragging through your soaked pussy, pace cruel, deliberate. He’s got your face pressed to the sheets, his hand on your ass as he slaps it hard enough to sting. “Makes you my fucktoy. That’s what.” He pumps in deep, stretching you raw, his laugh low and mean when you cry out. “Aw, poor baby—too much dick? But you wanted to spoil me, right? This is your reward.”

You try to protest, whimpering, but your pussy clenches around him, betraying you. He groans, thrusting harder, deeper—the sadistic edge never softening. “That’s it. Take me. Take it all.” You reach back for him, hand shaky. His eyes flicker down, watching the way yours plea beneath wet hooded lashes. A smirk pulls at his lips. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leans down, voice hot in your ear: “You're so good for me. Always come back to me, no matter how I break you down.”

-

Rindou Haitani

He sees the new headphones you bought him, high-end, just his taste. He blinks, lips parting, then scoffs. “You really went out your way for me, huh?” His tone is mocking, but his ears burn red, and his smile is barely contained. He mutters low: “Too good for me.”

Time skip—his dick is buried in your ass, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He’s panting, thrusts sharp and punishing, voice shaking. “Fuck—you’re so tight. Can’t believe you let me in here.” You cry out under him, tears streaking your cheeks as you clench around him. You said you wanted the try since he mentioned it last time. Now, you're slumped against the mattress spent, sore, and trembling at the intensity.

He yanks your hair back, sneering down at you. “Sweet girl, buyin’ me shit. Spoilin’ me. And now look at you—stuffed full of my cock where no one else gets to touch.” His thrusts grind cruel and deep, his hand slipping to rub your clit fast until you’re screaming. His laugh is low, breathless. “Yeah. That’s right. Cum for me, slut.”

-

Shuji Hanma

You show up with rare liquor he’d mentioned in passing. He throws his head back, laughing. “Damn—you actually listen to me. Such a good girlfriend.” His eyes glitter, tongue sliding across his teeth. “Gonna have to thank you my way.”

Time skip—he’s got you spit-roasted, his cock in your throat while his fingers pump your soaked cunt viciously. “Gag on it, baby,” he moans, hips snapping shallow into your mouth. “You love this—don’t even lie.” When you choke, he just laughs, mean and wild. “Pathetic. Look at you drooling for me.” The weight of his gaze makes your pulse jump. You moan at his words, sucking harder as you rock back onto his fingers.

Later he’s got you flipped, cock drilling your pussy raw, thighs shaking under the assault. His sweat-slick skin brushes yours with each brutal stroke. His hand smears your spit across your face, his voice dark. “You bring me gifts, you act so sweet—but you’re my nasty little slut, aren’t you?” His thrusts are brutal, every one stealing your breath. He groans, head falling back as you clamp down. “Fuck—yeah. You’ll never get rid of me. I’ll always be inside you.” He doesn't stop even when you're shaking and spent, his gratitude coming out in the form of deep, relentless thrusts that claim every inch of you.

-

Kazutora Hanemiya

You come home with a little trinket for him—a keychain shaped like a tiger. He freezes when you hand it over, staring at it too long, then at you. His voice is hoarse: “Why would you… even think of me like that?” He pockets it, but his hand shakes. His smile is cracked, unstable. “You’re too good for me.”

Time skip—he’s got you folded under him, cock driving in so hard the bedframe screams. His hands are everywhere, clutching your wrists, your throat, your thighs spread wide. “You think of me,” he snarls, hips slamming sharp, “you bring me shit—sweet little gifts. Like I’m worth it.” His teeth sink into your shoulder, his thrusts mean, drilling deep into your soaked cunt.

You cry his name, trembling under him, and he moans like a man breaking. “I’ll ruin you,” he gasps, sweat dripping onto your skin. “If you’re gonna stay, I’ll ruin you so no one else can want you.” He keeps pounding you until your voice cracks, until you sob his name through another orgasm. His mouth is at your ear, whispering, desperate. “You’re mine. Forever. Mine.”

-

Chifuyu Matsuno

He finds the manga you bought him, signed by the author he adores. His jaw drops, ears flushing red. “No way—you actually found this?” He stares like he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve you. “You always think of me, don’t you? Damn…” His voice is quiet, almost breaking. He smiles, pulling you by the waist, hugging you close.

Time skip—he’s fucking you sloppy, cock buried deep, pace wild. His hands are on your tits, mouth sucking at your neck as he mutters against your skin. “You treat me so good—so sweet—and all I can do is fuck you like this.” He slams into you, rougher, harder, the sound of skin on skin loud and filthy. “You’re gonna cum for me again. You hear me? Again.”

Your moans turn frantic, thighs shaking as you gush around him. He holds you in place, making you take every inch. He chokes on a groan, thrusts erratic but relentless. "You're too sweet, too perfect—I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else. You're mine, okay? Just tell me you're mine." He buries his face in your chest, hips grinding until you both break, his voice muffled: “I love you. Always.”

-

Takashi Mitsuya

You walk into his studio with a neatly wrapped box—new shears, imported, the kind he’s been eyeing but would never splurge on. His lips part in shock, then curve slow. He shakes his head, huffing a laugh. “You really don’t miss a thing, do you?” His voice is soft but his eyes are heavy on you, loaded.

Time skip—he’s buried to the hilt, pace measured, grinding deep enough to make your insides twist. Your thighs were trembling from the previous rounds, slick soaking down your ass, wetting the sheets. His forehead rests against yours, damp hair sticking to his temple. “You—mghn—think of everything for me,” he murmurs, but his thrusts aren’t gentle—they’re deep, deliberate, fucking the words into you. “Every damn detail. How’m I supposed to let you go after that?”

Your nails rake his back, body spasming around him as you cum again, and he gasps, hips stuttering but never pulling out. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans, voice breaking. His eyes bore into yours, steady and raw. “I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.” His thrusts sharpen, driving deeper, until you’re crying into his mouth as he kisses you hard, spilling warmth deep inside.

-

Hakkai Shiba

You stop by with a bundle of new necklaces and earrings, the good kind—sturdy links, real silver, wrapped in linen. He blinks at them, then at you, shoulders tense like he’s bracing for a punch. “You... you shouldn't have spent that on me,” he starts, but his fingers are already ghosting over the expensive jewelry. "I don't know why you're so good to me."

Time skip—He has you pinned against the wall, massive hands under your thighs, bouncing you down to meet his thrusts. His dick is hitting deep, stretching you open with each stroke. His pace is desperate, almost clumsy in its intensity, like he’s trying to merge his body with yours. "T-Thank you, baby. You're so—ughm." You wrap your hand around the new chain, twisting it to choke him while pulling him into a sloppy kiss. He hums into it, fucking you faster.

It amazed you how a man who, for over eight years, struggled to look you in the eye and hold a conversation was now carry-fucking you. He groans, his head falling back as you clamp down. "You're everything to me. I'll get you something better; I promise." He spills inside you—but he keeps going, fucking you through it, holding you in place, telling you how special you are to him.

-

Ryohei "Peh-yan" Hayashi

You show up at his place with a new helmet—black, matte, same model as his old one that cracked in that last scuffle. “You tryna keep me alive or something?” he says, tone caught between a laugh and disbelief, but you can tell he means thank you. When he leans in to kiss you, it’s quick, rough, like he can’t handle sitting in the softness too long.

Time skip—You're in his lap, legs trembling as he drills into you rough, desperate. Each thrust sharp, deep—pushing out a string of screams and moans. "What're you screaming for? This is what you wanted, right?" he asked, crossing his arms around your back, pulling you closer. "Brought me something nice. Let me thank you."

Your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes watering as he pounds harder. He cups the back of your head and kisses you. His tongue slides against yours, claiming it like everything else. You reach down to rub your clit, eyes locked with his, which always held that sad but fierce look that you were oddly attracted to. You choke out his name, already cumming, and he doesn’t let up. "M'shiit—Yeah, give it to me. Cum all over this dick. You're so fuckin' perfect like this."

I loove his face

-

Seishu "Inupi" Inui

​You find a rare, vintage motorcycle manual—first edition, perfectly preserved—and leave it on his workbench. Inupi stares at the yellowed pages, his thumb tracing the spine with a reverence that borders on holy. He doesn’t say thank you with words; he just looks at you, his eyes glassy and dull, before pulling you into a kiss that tastes like a silent vow.

Time skip—You gag around him, drool and precum coating your knuckles as you bob your head, taking as much as you can, moaning around his length. Your wetness leaks onto his chin, his fingers, the sheets. "Mmm, you taste so good, honey. Could keep you like this for hours," he murmurs, words muffled against your pussy. You squirm, but his arm locks tighter, pulling you closer. His tongue thrust in and out of your heat, slurping your juices, nose nudging your clit while he listens to your gags and moans.

Later, he's fucking you prone, cock buried to the hilt. He grabs the side of your face, fingers curled into your jaw, turning your mouth to his. "You do so much for me... always taking care of me," he coons, hips snapping against your ass in slow, rough thrusts. "You love me?" he asks, rubbing your clits steady, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You moan yes, fingers curling into the sheets, body quivering as you gush around him.

#need that

❤︎𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 ❤︎

Dividers by @/huraxy-dividers

All works © liliacsdelight 2025–Present. Do not repost, translate, modify, or use my work to train AI models.

[tsukasa-ki11]

Heyyy daddy ~~~

Here's the edit i promised ~~~~

[secretaryfemme]

how i feel as a certified FREAK knowing it’s finally kinktober:

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[bunniecain]

everyday i log onto tumblr dot com and post bullshit nothing burger

[empressoftea]

Housewordens X reader | you made it this far

Apparently talking about your world was a bad idea and talking about the art and media from it was not better because art imitate life after all

Summery: your friends refused to let you go back to your world after you told them about it

Note: again just a reminder this series talks about our world in general so movies books and anything else might be in it but they all highlight real issues in the world, also this series will get dark and talk about a lot of thing so if you can't handle that don't force it you're here to enjoy, ok kisses darlings.

Part 1 | part 2 |

Going to the lounge after a long day to relax with Azul and jade was a good idea at first because you noticed that riddle and Leona with the rest of there respective dorms have been acting.... Weird, not in a bad way just .... More analyzing than usual and you noticed some gifts and flowers here and there on your doorstep that you know for sure it's from them but you can't prove it, so you try to avoid all the questions about your world and buy your peace of mind, and now you're here with Azul in the VIP room talking as he works and ramble about how his control gave him power and that sparked the conversation, looking back now you should have stopped talking about your world once you saw how both riddle and leona reacted but you didn't know any better, " with all do respect Azul it's not your control alone.... The twins are one of the biggest reasons people fear you " you said casually and jade was pouring you tea who just looked at you with mock hurt expression " perfect you wound me, me and my brother are simply helping azul" you nudge him playfully " aha, right, like how the dogs were simply helping the pig Napoleon to control the animals and force, i mean ' nudge ' them to work to the bone" bothe boys look at you with confused look " who is Napoleon the pig?" Asked Azul " oh right ....you Azul, would have loved animal farm by George Orwell it's a novel I really love, that novel is about how something that starts with good intentions can be ruined by the leaders it's purely political and was band in multiple countries because of the ideas it represents and holds but it's such a good novel" both Azul and jade looked at you expectingly " well ... Tell us more" jade said and you were surprised to say the least, but you started talking again" the novel starts with an old pig called old Major gathering the other animals to tell them that he got old but he was dreaming of a better life for the animals in this farm, especially considering that the farmer was a drunk who doesn't know how to take care of this land or the animals in it, and he tought them an anthem called ' beasts of England' to encourage the animals to start a rebellion against the farmer" jade and Azul seem to just let go of whatever they were doing and sat down listening to you talking about the story and seem to be in a trance hanging by every word you say as the time flew by and without any of you noticing it's been an hour and some, you explained what you can remember of the story and the seven rules the animals wrote on the farm's wall and how the pigs changed the rules one after the other to give themselves more and how the pigs slowly started to act more like the enemy they fought against for many years " and so be the end the pigs walked out of the farmer's house on two legs wearing human clothes and acting like humans and as the animals pecked from the window they saw humans and pigs sitting down on the same table talking and drinking all of them having the same mannerism to the point where it was impossible to differentiate between who's a human and who's a pig ... The rest of the animals ran to check on the rules that were on the wall only to find that all of them was erased except one ' all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others ' oh this novel gives me the chills" both men looked at you but you can't decipher Their looks "you said it's a political novel" jade said expectingly " yup sadly the pig Napoleon is actually based of a real man called Joseph Stalin who did all of that, cruel labour camps and executions and, force famine" Azul stands up and walks to you " wait wait... You mean to tell me.... In your world things like this just ... happened to innocent people" he sets down beside you and holds your hand with a hard look in his eyes " jade ... please make us more tea ... Perfect.... please tell me more" you are hearing this sentence a lot lately.

AN: I know 1984 would have been a better choice but if i start talking about it i won't stop so the best second thing is animal farm, I'm thinking of opening a kofi, I might need a few more days for next part.

Darlings: @marina27826123 @hollowflameninja @9cherryfairy9 @izzieg3987 @timea2love @laceparlour @breadbasket248 @rosehearts67 @hsjdhehsjssj @xmatsuki @k1nacut13 @dreamtrot1501 @thispl4ce1sash1th0le @justafank hope i didn't miss any one

[kiurona]

[e-00x]

MEOWR

[chryza]

Debating silently showing this to one of the flight attendants while boarding

[chryza]

I SHOWED IT TO MY FLIGHT ATTENDANT WHEN HE GAVE ME MY COOKIES AND HE LAUGHED SO HARD HE TOOK MY PHONE TO SHOW IT TO THE OTHER FLIGHT ATTENDANT

[bippysaurus-rex]

I don’t know how you got a good grade in being a passenger on an airline but that’s a totally normal thing to achieve and I’m not seething with jealousy at all.

[rawme-price]

No thoughts just ghost and gaz dealing with emotional!reader...

You've always been emotional, a softshell, your mother would call you. Nothing to keep you protected from the world throwing hurt at you. You used to cry all the time, until you learned people didn't like attention seekers.

Now the first words out of your mouth, when your heart feels ready to shatter, are "it's nothing, I'm being silly."

It works well for you, dismissing yourself until you can go curl up late at night. Or, it worked well until ghost started staring too long and gaz began to frown at every insistence of being okay.

Now, they insist on hearing your thoughts. No amount of "seriously, I'm overreacting, it's not a big deal–" or "I'm just emotional, it's not anyone's fault–" will get them to stop.

For the first time in years, there's people who want to listen to you even if you're being too emotional. You tell gaz about how insecure you are in the group, how you feel like an outsider looking in, and he starts to intentionally include you in every conversation. You admit to ghost that even the smallest things can make you feel hated, and he outright stops making teasing comments about you.

Thing is, you're still emotional. You get angry, depressed, stressed out and overwhelmed. But all of those "just give me a bit and I'll even out"s turn into you finding one of them before they find you in a worse state.

Two soldiers born into a field where emotions could kill you, and they still sit down to comfort you. You, the softshell hurt too many times. They love you anyways.

For once, you're emotional fits aren't born of anger or fear or loneliness. For once, you're crying about how loved you feel.

[teal-tealwren]

there are only ghosts here

[mysweetrisa]

WELCOME TO PARIS! — vivian hugo

SYNOPSIS: A one week trip to Paris, five stops and one goal in mind. Get the most show stopping photos ever. However, your plans instantly crumble when you’re unknowingly made the target of a certain trio's antics— or in which Hugo, Loki and Charles decide to photobomb you in all your photos. CONTENT: 1.9k words, vivian hugo x fem!reader, mild swearing, hugo is already into reader, crackfic, not proofread. AUTHORS NOTE: happy hundredth post!!! hugo will be having the honor of being the character for it lol. this entire fic is an attempt at humor, i'm not shakespeare tho so do not expect any peak literature, just cliterature. made and served from the heart. ♡

FIRST STOP: THE EIFFEL TOWER

The goal was to end up with an iconic nighttime picture of yourself in front of the Eiffel tower— and that’s what you received…sort of.

You’re standing in the middle of the frame looking mesmerizing, your hair is perfect, outfit fashionable and makeup on point. On paper it would’ve been the ideal picture, if only it weren’t for the random dude in the background staring straight into the camera lens.

With the blankest stare mind you.

You squint at the picture, judging and breaking down his entire being.

His hair is of a maroon colour with black in the back and he’s tall, ridiculously tall and huge (and hot), but what pisses you off the most— besides the two guys next to him, throwing up stupid signs is the fact that he’s wearing flip flops!

His toes…are ruining the entire shot.

You strain your jaw, gripping your phone with such strength you wouldn't be surprised if it cracked.

SECOND STOP: THE LOUVRE

The Louvre, apparently a former royal palace turned museum, was your second destination. 

You chuckle to yourself. This is the perfect place for some memorable shots, especially for a few that’ll go up on your ig and definitely make you look cultured. 

Determined, you approach a painting. It’s pretty, but not that interesting. Still, you continue standing there, appreciating and analyzing it (you’re not getting the vision) when suddenly, a guy with short black hair in a buzzcut walks up to you. He looks oddly familiar, you note.

“Tourist?” He asks, in a thick french accent. 

Oh he’s definitely a local.

You nod your head. “Yeah.” When suddenly, a thought pops up in your head, this is the perfect chance to ask him to snap some pictures for you—well it would’ve been if he hadn’t opened his mouth.

“So what do you think of this portrait?” His eyes are locked on the painting, finger to his chin as if he were thinking deeply about the painter's intention. You force yourself to suppress a groan.

A few grueling minutes later of you having to humor him, patiently listening to him blabber on about the direction of the brush strokes and the biblical symbolism of the painting you interrupt him. “Could I trouble you to take some pictures for me with the painting?”

Hope that was polite enough.

A mysterious grin spreads across his face. “Okay.” He thumbs up.

You furrow a brow at his excitement towards taking a picture but shrug it off.

When you're done, the man disappears as quickly as he appeared, leaving you only the pictures he took of you to remember him by. However, you blink. Two guys, one looking into the camera with the most lifeless eyes ever while the other is making an ugly face stood behind you in the photos.

They’re the ones from yesterday’s photos. Except this time— one is missing.

That being that one local you just spoke too.

You click your tongue, rolling your eyes completely pissed at the situation.

What the fuck is going on?!

THIRD STOP: VERSAILLES

The opulent palace Versailles, famous for its luxurious architecture and history, was your third destination, and it seems like it was the same for many others.

You look around as your tour guides blabber about the french revolution and its history. “Ludwig the 16th…blah blah… Marie Antoniette…yada dada..” Your gaze lands on a strange looking boy in the crowd of tourists.

He’s obviously wearing a wig, and a fake mustache. His clothes are also way too big for him.

The strangest thing of all though, is that he doesn’t stop glancing at you and every time your eyes meet he starts giggling— quietly— to himself.

The tour guide finally finishes his speech about the palace and the crowd disperses, studying the lavish place themselves with the tour guide occasionally chiding in with a small comment here and there. 

Deciding to look around yourself as well as you walk around the room. You notice that the boy is following you, still giggling to himself.

“Excuse me.” You turn. It’s clear that he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him, evident with the way his eyes widened but you pride yourself on being unpredictable. “Is something the matter? You keep on laughing to yourself so I thought you had something you wanted to say.”

You watch as the boy (who’s obviously a teenager by the way) fumble with his words. “Oh no– I was just– I didn’t mean to–”

“Mean to what?” You interrupt.

The boy, whose wig is hanging on by a thread, opens his mouth only to close it again.

“C’mon, spit it out. I don’t have all day on me.”

“I just thought you looked really pretty…” He mumbles, his eyes darting around the room.

That sentence alone lifts your spirits up so high someone might’ve thought you ascended to the heavens. “Really?!” Your eyes sparkle.

The boy seems to catch onto this. “Y-yeah.” He begins. “You need to take some pictures of yourself, y’know? To save the memory or whatever they say.”

Blinded by his flattery, you give in. “You’re so right, could you take them for me?” Your confidence is through the roof by now.

“Of course.” And with that, the boy snaps a bunch of photos of you. Posing in all sorts of weird and funny ways, with all sorts of angles. You bet that 10 minutes passed when he handed you back your phone.

“Bathroom break!” He shouts before running off.

Weird…

Ignoring him, you scroll through the pictures.

Your jaw drops.

In the background of every single one there are two dudes, mockingly copying your poses and worse of all is that they’re going all the way with it, sticking out their hips, pouting their lips— making fun of you basically. One of them has a buzzcut and the other burgundy hair (and a dead stare).

That’s the guy from yesterday!?

You slump down to the floor.

I’ve been tricked again…

FOURTH STOP: THE PARIS CATACOMBS

Either you were on something or onto something when you wrote the paris catacombs down on your itinerary.

This place has to be haunted. There are literally skulls and bones decorating the walls.

You’re not even sure if the fact that you’re exploring the underground maze alone is a good thing or a bad thing.

“I swear if I die down here I’m going to curse those guys who’re always photobombing me.”

That’s when you hear it.

A low and deep voice whispering in your ear “Curse…” You slowly turn around, heartbeat thumping against your chest. “Curse those guys…” You make eye-contact with it.

A skull is speaking.

A piercing shrill escapes you and you bolt straight towards the exit, screaming simultaneously when something large slithers up your arm. 

A hand.

“Let go of me!” You shout, pushing the hand off you and speeding up. Nevertheless, despite your efforts, you’re still caught in the strong embrace of the ghost…?

Your thrashing is useless, a pitiful attempt at fleeing his hold on you. A warm breath pricks your ear. “Relax,” The same voice from earlier speaks, now sounding oddly human. “Prank, it was just a prank we do for tourists.

“Oh.” You stop in his arms, feet dangling above the ground. “Oh.”

He gently sets you down and you realize that he was just wearing a fake skull. “And now, time for the commemorative photo every visitor gets.” He reaches out his hand, probably wanting your phone.

You shudder at the thought of taking a photo. “Sorry, I have trauma when it comes to cameras and stuff…”

He swipes your phone out of your back pocket. “No you don’t.”

You perk an eyebrow at that. Who is he deciding that for you?

“Now pose.” He instructs before pressing the camera button on your phone. You listen and pose, albeit hesitantly. The slow pace he takes photos irks you for some reason though. The guy presses the camera button, waits five seconds and then asks “done?” Before taking the next.

After a few photos and him accidentally closing your phone, making you have to press in your password over and over again he hands you back your phone.

You look at photos, praying that nothing's wrong with them when–

Your eyes light up.

“They’re perfect!” You exclaim in joy. There are no weirdos in the background ruining it and you look creepy good. You look up at the scare actor, thanking him for the photos (they’re all blurry and unfocused but at least not photobombed).

However, he’s nowhere to be seen… Just like that local, and the teenage boy. Wasn’t there a third guy with them? You decide to take a closer look.

And there it is.

You zoom in and two faces, familiar faces by the way, come into view. This time, they’re lighting up their faces with a flashlight in an eerie manner, creepily smiling.

You groan. “Photobombed again…”

FINAL STOP: STADE DE FRANCE (NATIONAL STADIUM)

A friendly game between France’s national teams versus The Netherlands’ national team during your one week trip?

Of course you had to buy yourself a ticket to the game.

You weave through the electric crowd of fans. Both sides waving banners, shouting chants and wearing clothes with their countries colors on them. You chuckle at the enthusiasm. and take a seat, sipping away at your drink. 

It’s cool, perfect for this heat you note.

The cheering turns into deafening roars, and that’s when you know that the players have entered the pitch. You strain your eyes, trying to catch a look at the players but your seat from all the way at the back makes it hard and you soon give up.

The pre-match formalities go on, they enter the pitch, line up, sing their national anthem and then toss a coin with the team captains from both sides walking up to the referee. Even from your shitty seat, the second you see France’s captain it’s unmistakable, it’s him. The local.

Your eyes quickly flicker across the field, in search of the other two guys. If he’s here, then the other two must also be here. His black eyes are already on you before you even find him, they were already on you before you even realized Loki was the team captain, before you even took your seat or your sip. Even from all the way on the pitch he could see you. Clear as day, sipping your drink after not having been able to see anything from your trashy seat.

He could’ve gotten you a VIP lounge if you just asked him yesterday, in the catacombs that is. Not that you would’ve known who he was to even ask that though.

Hugo observes the way your eyes grow in size when you recognize him and Charles. The latter jumping up and down waving at you, which has the crowd naturally thinking it’s for them. “No, not you guys!” Charles whines, “her!”

Your finger flies up, an accusatory point towards Hugo. “You!”

That’s him! The slow bastard you met in the catacombs yesterday, the one who held you real tight, whispered in your ear and took photos of you under the pretense of being a little gift for tourists.

Hugo smirks and turns around, getting into position. When the whistle blows he makes a mental note to score one or two goals in your name. As a sorry if you will.

“It’s only right I apologize for ruining your photos, right?”

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[robinstraw]

never delete your blog.

[anajudraws]

bad mood

[bluesylveon2]

The best Leona moment in all of TWST canon 🤣

[rpf3il]

[ryllen]

kh when it leaks to twisted wonderland