#'You are the most amazing wife a woman could ever have an I'm so fucking lucky to be able to call you mine'

[bones4thecats]

Them Crushing on their Opponent's S/O

Characters: Beelzebub, Apollo, Thor, and Poseidon Inspired By: Idk... random thought I guess? A/N: Apologies for not posting anything in a while, I have been trying to get everything set up for the next few days (I have a dog-sitting job lined up here soon and school starting has been making it a little more stressful) but I do hope this was worth the wait for you guys! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Swearing, mentions of fighting, world-wide destruction, mass death (implied), and implied wish to kill another, attempting homewrecker Apollo + implied yandere behavior on each (not bad on Beel and Thor's, worse on Apollo, and horrible on Poseidon's) ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is quoted on being a female

Reader's Outfits ; Beelzebub - Apollo - Thor - Poseidon

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╚═════ Beelzebub ═════════════════════════════╝

🪰 Beelzebub was not excited for his fight. He just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he could get back to doing his own things

🪰 He watched as Nikola stepped out and into the ring, and he noticed how the human looked back at the other inventors. But he was looking at someone specific, at a human that stood alongside the Valkyrie sisters above

🪰 You smiled gently and waved at your husband, your short-sleeved dress moving alongside your shoulders while the rest of your dress accented your frame in amazing ways, much to the amazement of some deities and humans, and in most to the amazement of the two fighters below

"Kick his ass, Nik'!" You yelled.

🪰 Nikola chuckled as you cheered, the youngest sister jumping alongside you. You were such a flamboyant woman back during your lives, and it was hard getting used to life without you when you passed, and it was amazing when you both joined hands again

🪰 Beelzebub saw how much you adored your husband and just scoffed, trying to push the odd feeling of butterflies in his stomach away with the flush on his face

🪰 When this fight ended with a God's victory, the Lord of the Flies needed to find a way to speak to you...

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╚═════ Apollo ════════════════════════════════╝

☀️ Leonidas was ready for his fight, after all, he was going against the man he blamed for the deaths of not only his and his men's lives, but the death of his wife via the domino affect

☀️ You were so saddened when he passed that after your son, Pleistarchus, finally aged up and began his rule, you decided to finally end your life, much to your people's despair

☀️ As your husband looked back at you, you smiled and hugged him, wishing him luck. You the heard an eruption of applause, making you look up while Leonidas scowled silently

☀️ Standing before you both was a youthful-looking god, specifically Apollo, the Greek God of the Sun and Music. Much like the others close to Leonidas, you knew how much he despised this guy and how much he blamed him for the deaths of his men, himself, and in result you

☀️ The God of the Sun looked around and winked at his nymphs in the audience, which caused you to roll your eyes and kiss your husband's arm before leaving him to enter his fight

☀️ It was when you finally made it up to where Brunhilde and Göll were that the fight was about to begin. You could see that the two males were speaking, or rather Apollo was speaking to the King of Sparta standing before him

"You know I always wondered what my opponent looked like, wondered if you truly were just a brute, but..." He looked in your direction, causing you to flinch slightly.

☀️ Apollo smirked as your long blue sleeved moved and how your traditional Greek dress hugged you. It accentuated your chest perfectly and allowed your perfect skin to shimmer in the light that Apollo controlled. Not that man you called yours

"I must admit, you found the most gorgeous ray of life I have ever seen. And I'm a well-sought-after god."

"Shut your fucking trap and fight me like the powerful man you claim to be." Leonidas said, readying his weapon.

"Simmer down there, Leonidas! I meant nothing offensive towards your beautiful wife up there." He said as he winked at you, much to everyone's annoyances. "I just merely wanted to commend you on your taste. Maybe after my victory I can take that flower out for a walk? Yes, that sound delightful."

"Kick that motherfucker in the balls for me, honey!" You screamed.

"Planning on it."

"Well then, I guess we can begin our fight. Now... let's dance, your majesty."

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╚═════ Thor ═════════════════════════════════╝

🌩️ Lu Bu was against leaving you alone in this afterlife. He died in front of you long ago and he didn't plan on doing it again. And if you had any say in what Brunhilde decided for this fight, you would've made he pick another warlord

🌩️ But, fate was cruel and it always landed you both in extremely tight spaces. It cursed you with the arranged marriage to a man you despised while Lu Bu's gave him the strength nobody else could match, leaving him alone for many years

🌩️ Thankfully, your fiance was stupid enough to get himself crossing paths with the rough-man, landing him six-feet-under. It was only after that day that you finally found the man you loved, to which you married and, while not having any biological children, you treated all of your shared subordinates with the love of a mother

🌩️ As the fight began, you shivered. Raising your hands, you gripped your upper sleeves, causing Chen Gong to look at you and wrap an arm around your shoulder, attempting to comfort you while your husband readied himself against the notorious God of Thunder

"Human. Why do you intend to beat me?" Thor asked.

"My wife and soldiers have faith in me, though I don't expect an arrogant monster such as a god to understand that. So why bother?"

🌩️ Thor cocked an eyebrow slightly as he looked over at the many soldiers that Lu Bu led, he gazed over them all before settling on you. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon in eons

🌩️ You looked at Lu Bu with worry and determination in your eyes. It almost made Thor... jealous. But why would he, an all-powerful being such as himself, be jealous of some mortal's luck with picking a spouse?

🌩️ Eventually you felt Thor's gaze on you, making you stare into his yellow-colored irises. He blinked as you shifted slightly in your hanfu, which only made Chen wrap his arm tighter around you, determined to keep you at-bay

🌩️ Thor looked back at your husband before sighing and starting the walk that would mark the start of Ragnarok. He glanced back at you, only to see you focused, watching Lu Bu with both love and hope despite your furrowed eyebrows

🌩️ And while they began their fight, there was one thing plaguing Thor's thoughts; why did he wish for you to look at him in that way?

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╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 As a god of few words and one that showed far to much pride for even his own brothers to handle, Poseidon was the opposite of your husband. And you hated that

🔱 Your husband was none other than Sasaki Kojiro, History's Greatest Loser. And as you were close to a couple immortals such as Buddha and Brunhilde, you knew just how dangerous the God of the Seas could be. And it made you concerned for your husband's outcome in this battle

🔱 Sasaki looked back at you as he raised his now-broken sword, and he could tell by the subtle look that you were beyond pissed. And that was the thing he loved most about you, your fieriness

"Why you arrogant bastard! How much of a fucking asshole do you have to be to not even blink an eye at killing such a magnificent man?! Why if I was down there, I'd smack the ever-loving shit out of you!"

🔱 Poseidon was internally shook at hearing a mortal woman yell at him. Every time any human tried voicing their opinions to him, his mere glace would shut them up. But not this human. This one was different

🔱 Looking up slightly, he saw you standing with the other supporters of your husband. One of the males, Musashi Miyamoto, was holding one of your arms to keep you from jumping down and attacking the god with your bare hands while his son, Iori, was watching in shock at how strong you were

🔱 The one thing that Poseidon noticed other than your attitude was how you moved. You moved so delicately and swiftly despite your fury, and it was, dare he think, alluring. It was almost like you were an embodiment of the silkiness of a piece of the softest fabric ever

🔱 You raised your fist and slammed it on the nearby seat, causing Iori to jump and your elderly-appearing husband to chuckle. Poseidon merely watched stoically as you screamed once again

"You win this match and show Humanity just how amazing your old-ass is, Kojiro!"

"Alright, sweetheart. I understand what I must do." He replied, a chill-smile on his face while yours portrayed pure hatred towards his opponent.

🔱 The God of the Seas then saw you lower your fist back down as Musashi had his son wrap it up, as it was bleeding from the impact of cement and your fragile-hand. He saw your hanfu, it looked very blue, like the seas he ruled over for centuries

🔱 After this fight was over with his winning and a step closer to the destruction of those pesky worms down on Earth, Poseidon was going to need to pay you a visit. Maybe said visit will lead to something else? But, for now, getting rid of this hunk of waste was the first step to said future

[adventuringblind]

He Must Be Lucky!

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: fluff and crack

Summary: Max gets wasted and can't remember that the reader is his wife. It's endearing how much he simps bith sober and drunk.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, a wild party (at least for Max), Max being down bad

Notes: This one is for @amajixi! I hope you like it! Does anybody wanna send me asks and talk about drivers with me? Give me your most feral thoughts because I'm genuinely curious... please >_< (I even turned my anonymous asks back on please just send me things).

Side note: my fics haven't been getting much traction as they usually do. Is it something on my end? Have y'all disappeared on me? I know I shouldn't care, but y'all are the only ones that validate my writing T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max has a track record of partying hard. It's who he is, and she lives him for it. There isn't any kind of gripe of hang-up, just Max having fun and doing dumb shit that makes her laugh.

Lando is throwing a - well - a party. There was an excuse for it in the invitation, but she's too buzzed to remember it.

The echoing sound of Max's laughter ricochets off the walls. Daniel is with him, probably getting them into more trouble, but she knows Daniel will look after him. At least until he's trashed and can't get off the floor.

Alex brings her another shot glass. She has no idea what's in it, but Alex is letting loose, and she'll be damned if she doesn't partake.

He raises the shot glass in a toast. "To whatever this party is!" He cheers. They clink their glasses together and down the shots. She gags at whatever was in it.

"The fuck was that, Alex?!" She sputters.

He gives her a blank look. Really thinking hard about what he gave her. "I've got no idea."

The hours seem to tick by. The people are slowly dissipating, leaving the safety of this weird little bubble they've created.

She's lightly buzzed still, having danced off the majority of the shots Alex had her doing. The couch is her new best friend, and Lando had brought her a blanket at some point in the last twenty minutes.

A weight on the other end of the sofa catches her attention. Max, with complete adoration in his blue eyes, is staring at her. "Wow," he slurs. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

She laughs at his drunken thoughts. "You're not too bad looking yourself, babe."

The smile on his face is almost childish. It's big enough to almost fall off. His cheeks tinged a darker red with the blush adding to the alcohol flush.

"Go on a date with me? Please?" He tries to pout, but it ends up looking awkward mixed with the grin.

She flashes the ring at him. "Sorry, I'm spoken for." Alex and Lando are giggling from where they are watching this interaction unfold.

Max looks like a wounded puppy. Eye's glossing over like her might cry. "He must be such a lucky guy. You're just so perfect!"

"Awe, love, you wanna know a secret?" She leans in to whisper into Max's ear. "You married me."

If Max could hand you the world on a silver platter, he might have tried in this moment. The Dutch is vibrating in pure, unadulterated joy. Like a child who just got the ice-cream they were so desperately craving.

"Holy shit! I'm the lucky guy!"

Max smothers himself against your body. Eventually falling asleep, mumbling about how she's so amazing, and how he loves her so much. It's endearing to here his drunk affections laid bare for everyone to see.

It's the lullaby that calms her to a restful state. Fingers tangling with the softness of his hair. "You're not the only one who's lucky. I guess I'm pretty lucky, too."

[emlovslennon]

omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

-

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

-

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

-

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

[seyaryminamoto]

Scenes of a Peaceful World: Sokkla Saturdays 2024

Day Seven - Sudden Changes

Rated: M

On FF.net//On AO3

Sokka swallowed dryly, eyes wide. Azula challenged him in numerous ways across their lives, far more than he'd dare count… but she was taking it to a whole new level on that day, and without the faintest awareness of it, too.

"I'm not imagining things, am I? Just look at them!"

Oh, he was looking. He absolutely was looking. Nothing could possibly convince him to tear his eyes off Azula's perfectly exposed chest.

It had started that morning: she had said she felt uncomfortable, and she didn't particularly like the way her clothes had fit her on that day. She asked for his opinion a thousand times, and he reassured her that he found her as breathtaking as ever. In true Azula form, she had disregarded the compliment and obsessed over what was bothering her for most of the day.

Now, the day was out. Night had come. And now he sat at the foot of their bed, his shaft hardening quite effectively as his topless wife squeezed her breasts before his eager eyes, with absolutely no intent of seducing him, yet succeeding at it anyway.

"I swear they weren't this size last night. They weren't yesterday!" Azula huffed: she let go, and they bounced. Sokka suppressed a shiver as best he could… his manhood, however, twitched quite noticeably over the visual stimulation. "I've heard… well, it's obvious, isn't it? Women gain weight over life and that affects all their body parts… maybe my ass is like this too. M-maybe…!"

"Azula, y-you don't have to…!"

She shoved off her bottoms next, rushing to their full body mirror to inspect, wide-eyed, the size of her rear.

"It… doesn't look that big. I think. Not much more than I think it was, anyway," she concluded. "Which makes this… stranger. Doesn't it?"

She glanced at Sokka: his uncomfortable, pleading eyes were accompanied by an awkward smile quickly. Azula sighed, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.

"I'm not saying I'm sick or so, you don't have to worry…"

"You don't look sick to me, but if you do think there's a chance that… w-well, whatever you're feeling isn't normal, you can always ask Katara. Or Song," Sokka said, averting his gaze and closing his eyes: he could say responsible things if he didn't look at her, yes. She didn't need to know her very serious concerns over her body's sudden changes were pushing his basest needs to the forefront. Her peace of mind was the priority here, not that of his dick…

"I don't think it's… abnormal. But I'm not pregnant again, that's for sure," Azula pointed out, hands on her hips, glaring at her chest again. "This isn't the first symptom, I'd have been puking my innards out well before this happened, and I haven't been doing that. So… whatever this is, it isn't pregnancy. I'm certain."

"You've had the tea every day… so it shouldn't be," Sokka said, with a small voice.

"So why?" Azula growled. "Do I need more physical activity? That might really be it. Maybe working out more often would ensure I burn off enough energy and reduce them back to normal…"

"I'm not sure it works like…"

Sokka dared open his eyes again: Azula was cupping one of them again, still with that serious scowl… squeezing, no doubt looking for any anomalies, but finding nothing so far. The urge to offer to look in her stead choked in his throat. This was a cruel, beautiful spectacle, and he was to behave himself and hold back and…

"What do you think, though?" Azula asked, glancing at him. Sokka stiffened. "Are they… different? Bigger?"

Sokka swallowed dryly again: he needed so much water. That the woman he had been sleeping with for as good as twenty years would still produce this effect in him might be something to be grateful for, but right now, he wished he could blind himself to her sex appeal if that would make him a better husband…

"I… don't know for sure," Sokka said, slowly. "But they… look… fuck, they look amazing."

Azula froze. Sokka grimaced, burying his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry but you're driving me crazy here. They're… perfect. Always were. But if they're bigger right now, t-then that just means more perfection, and seeing you touch them like that and show them to me, I…! I'm just a man, Azula. Just a shameful, stupid, perverted man who's looking at perfection and blinded by it… more than I would be by the sun, surely, and… oh, this is too much. Have mercy on me, woman…"

Azula watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. Sokka didn't dare look at her again, cheeks lit up with his fluster, waiting for her judgment to strike him down.

She stepped closer to him. Wearing nothing but her panties, she should have been anything but intimidating… but this was Azula. There was no chance a woman like her could stop being intimidating.

"The only bright side in all this… was the hope that you'd be pleased with the changes, if there were any."

Sokka tensed up. He jerked his head up, out of his hands, to find Azula towering over him, still with that unreadable expression across her golden eyes.

"W-well…" Sokka chortled. Azula smirked.

"Didn't know you'd be that affected by seeing me hold my own breasts, though. You do realize you're not the only person allowed to touch them?"

"I do, and… I just… didn't expect it to affect me this much either," Sokka said, eyeing her with uncertainty. "But you know you're hot as hell, Azula… and no, don't start, I'm not saying it because of your firebending, alright? Which, yes, is hot too, but still…!"

"If my husband still thinks so highly of me in my forties, why… I really should be grateful for it," Azula smiled. Sokka bit his lip and smiled a little too. "Not missing the old days when we were younger and more energetic, are you?"

"I feel quite energetic right now, I can tell you that much," Sokka admitted. Azula laughed.

"Who'd have thought that sudden changes would wind up proving that, in the end, you and I somehow just… stay the same?" she said, cupping his cheek and raising his head so she could lean over to kiss him.

Sokka responded gladly, letting Azula push him down over their bed: his hands couldn't help but move to her waist, caressing her ribcage, stroking her skin circularly with his thumbs…

But then her lips left his. Her body shifted further, and she smirked playfully at him as she held herself above him: her breasts dangled teasingly right over his wide, hungry eyes.

"I think… I need a more thorough second opinion, if you'd be so kind?" she teased him. Sokka's perverted smile brought a delighted blush to her face. "Now, please be gentle, they might just be more sensitive too…"

"I'll be… I'll be good. Just… get over here."

Azula burst out laughing once he pulled her down over him: he as good as smothered himself in the valley of her breasts, groaning with bliss and relief, his face squeezed between both mounds.

"Not the most orthodox testing method, mind you…" Azula chuckled, hugging him to her chest as they rolled on the mattress.

"Okay, okay. I'll be… professional now," Sokka teased her, hands rising to cup each of them: his wicked smirk already told her exactly what he meant to do…

And the truth was, she was ready for it, entirely.

She had spent most of the day feeling foolishly uncertain of herself. Sokka had never rejected those sorts of changes during pregnancy, but it was rather odd for it to happen without one along the way. Part of her dreaded that she could be imagining growth where there might just be sagging, instead… was she that old already? Was this around the point in life where such a thing would start happening to her?

It would happen eventually, she knew… but with Sokka eagerly devouring her nipples, testing her chest in a most inappropriate yet still quite helpful manner, she allowed herself to believe that, as the reach of old age did start to take its toll on them, the reckless, loving man atop her would never fail to see beauty where she might see flaws, just as he always had. She knew she'd be no better, no different, pertaining him and his own body's changes, should he go through any…

He'd said it many times: marriage was indeed a matter of spending their lives together, of basking in every spark of joy their bond would bring. Every smidge of affection her lover had offered her since the moment they'd started their relationship continued to nourish her, just as it did now… and she hugged him tightly, willfully giving herself to him, heart lightened by the love they shared, a love she had long known not to second-guess… for as many sudden changes as they might face, Sokka always found a way to surprise her even more wonderfully than life ever would.

[sofiaispunk]

dbf!Joel Miller x Reader - Part 5

a/n: Here's the promised longer chapter. I really really do appreciate your support on this series. I hope you guys are doing good and please share your ideas and thoughts of how you want this series to go. Without further ado... enjoyyyy

Tommy leaned forward, "You know, (Y/N) I've been thinking. You might just be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Tommy and you sat across from each other at the small table in the coffee shop, sipping on your drinks and chatting. You’ve been getting to know each other for about an hour, laughing and sharing stories and you must admit, you had an amazing time with Tommy.

Your conversation was flowing effortlessly and Tommy had a way of making you laugh, his genuine kindness shone through every word he spoke.

You blushed and  tried to laugh it off. "Oh, please. You're just saying that because you want another date."

Tommy grinned. "Well, you caught me. I do want another date. But I also mean it. You're stunning."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in her stomach. "Thank you, Tommy. You're pretty easy on the eyes, yourself."

Tommy chuckles. "Just easy on the eyes, huh? Last time i checked I was fucking gorgeous, but I'll take it. But really, I'm having a great time with you. I haven't laughed this much in ages."

You rolled your eyes at that, continuing to enjoy your conversation and the warm ambiance, when you got distracted. Your eyes wandered to the scene unfolding just outside the window. A woman with familiar features was engaged in an intimate conversation with a man. Your heart skipped a beat, your gaze fixated on the woman's face.

“Tommy, look. Isn't that... Irene?” you whispered.

Tommy turned his head, his eyes following your gaze. He squinted, trying to make out the figures outside. But your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist the urge to investigate further. Leaving your coffee aside, you rose from your seat and headed towards the door, with Tommy following close behind.

You approached the couple outside with a respectable distance to not get noticed. The woman turned slightly, revealing her face unmistakably. It was Irene, Joel's wife, engaged in an intimate kiss with the man. Your eyes widened, shock coursing through your veins.

“Tommy, are you seeing this? That's 100% Irene. What is she doing with that man?” your voice was filled with disbelief.

Tommy's jaw tightened, his features hardening. ”I cant believe she would do this in public, for everyone to witness. Un-fucking-believable.” He seethed through gritted teeth.

“Wait, you knew? How long has this been going on?" you looked at him in surprise.

Tommy's voice softened as he reached out, gently squeezing your hand, his gaze filled with empathy. You accepted his hand, allowing Tommy to guide you back into the coffee shop.

"About a year now," Tommy said, taking a sip of his coffee, as you both sat down again. "Joel found out a few months ago, but he hasn't confronted her yet. I think he's still trying to figure out what to do."

You immediately felt a pang of sympathy for Joel. It was clear that he was going through a tough time, and you couldn't imagine how he must be feeling. "That's really tough. I don't know how he's managing to keep it together," you said.

Tommy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he's trying to protect Sarah as well. He doesn't want her to find out about what's going on between her parents. It's a really messed up situation."

You felt a wave of sadness wash over you. You wished there was something you could do to help Joel, but you didn't know what. You decided to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on the negative. "So, you wanted to go to the park, right?" you asked.

-

 After finishing your coffees, you found yourselves strolling through a picturesque park. The park was adorned with lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and the sound of chirping birds filled the air. The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the gentle breeze, creating a serene atmosphere.

As you continued to stroll alongside Tommy, your mind was filled with well.. pretty much just Joel. You couldn't help but think about how Irene could do such a thing to Joel. He deserved so much better than her. Joel was always there for everyone, a genuinely kind and caring person. You held yourself tightly, reminding yourself that you were on a date with Tommy, not Joel. You had made a choice to give Tommy a chance, to explore what could be between you. Yet, your heart seemed to have a mind of its own, constantly bringing you back to thoughts of Joel. You scolded yourself internally, determined to stay present and focused on Tommy. You couldn't deny that talking to him was effortless, fun even,  and the conversation between you two flowed naturally. Tommy was undeniably a nice and good-looking guy, and anyone would be lucky to have his attention.

But deep down, you felt this tinge of disappointment in yourself. You wanted to feel that spark so badly, that undeniable chemistry that would ignite something more. You had hoped that this date would provide the clarity you needed, a chance to move on from your infatuation with Joel. Yet, as much as you enjoyed Tommy's company, that spark remained elusive.

You glanced at Tommy, who was now joking about a squirrel running across your path. He had a way of effortlessly bringing a smile to your face, and you couldn't deny the genuine connection you two shared. But that spark, that magnetic pull you longed for, seemed absent. Why couldn't you just let go and give Tommy a damn chance?

.

Lost in your own internal battle, you barely registered the last words of Tommy's story. He turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and curiosity. "What about you? Have you ever had a similar childhood adventure?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine interest.

You snapped back to reality, realizing you had zoned out, again. So you forced a smile, trying your best to appear engaged. "Oh, uh, not quite as adventurous as yours," you replied with a hint of self-deprecation. "But I do have a few funny memories from my childhood. Maybe I'll share one with you someday."

Tommy's smile widened, and he gently nudged your shoulder. "I'd love to hear all about them, sweetheart. We've got plenty of time to create new memories together."

Suddenly your eyes lit up with childlike excitement, as you spotted the pair of swings in the distance.

"Oh, look! The swings! I haven't been on one in ages. Care to join me?"

Tommy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Well, sweetheart, I must warn you, I have a reputation for being the Swing King. Are you ready to witness my incredible swinging skills?"

You laughed, playfully nudging him. "Oh really, Swing King? Now that’s just bad wording. But show me what you've got!"

The two of you raced to the swings, and soon enough, you were soaring through the air, your laughter mingling with the gentle breeze. Tommy swung higher and higher, effortlessly pushing you to new heights of exhilaration, grateful and relieved from the distraction of your own thoughts.

Your carefree laughter filled the park, drawing the attention of other park-goers who couldn't help but smile at the infectious joy radiating from the pair.

-

As the evening drew to a close, Tommy drove you back to your house. The car ride with Tommy was, as expected, an absolute blast, with laughter and banter filling the air. You chatted away like old friends and shared old stories and jokes. The car slowed down, coming to a gentle stop in front of your home.

"Tommy, I-" you started to say, turning towards him but he interrupted you with a soft kiss.

The kiss was gentle but full of passion, and you felt your whole-body tingle with surprise. You immediately pulled away, feeling slightly breathless.

Tommy smiled at you, his eyes full of warmth. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist."

Your mind was spinning as you processed the unexpected kiss. You had enjoyed your time with Tommy, and a kiss after a fun date was perfectly normal, right?

You backed up slightly, your eyes still locked with Tommy's, who was searching for answers. "Tommy, I... I didn't expect that," you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

Tommy's expression softened, and he reached out to gently hold your hands.  “I'm sorry if I crossed a line. I just... I couldn't help myself. You're amazing, and I've really enjoyed getting to know you today."

Your conflicting emotions swirled within you once again making your head hurt.

"Tommy, I... I had a great time today too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I have to be honest with you. I need time to figure things out and sort through my feelings. I don't want to rush into anything without being certain."

Tommy nodded and reached out to you, gently squeezing your hand. "It's important to me that you're happy. I care about you, and I want what's best for you. Take all the time you need, and when you're ready, I'm here."

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you may be letting a good opportunity slip away. But you also knew that you couldn't deny your true feelings. You clenched your fists, frustrated at your own inability to feel what you were "supposed" to feel. It wasn't fair to Tommy, who had been nothing but kind and understanding. He deserved someone who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. You felt guilty for not being able to give him that. "Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate your understanding. You're a great guy, and I hope we can still be friends."

Tommy's expression fell, but he quickly recovered and leaned back in his seat. "Friends it is then." He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll call you soon." He flashed you a charming smile before you got out of the car and starting walking over to your house.

The mix of emotions you felt, threatened to overwhelm you as you watched Tommy drive off but you didn’t had time to dwell on your whirlwind of emotions that’s been going on in your head and sort them because you spotted Sarah sitting alone on the sidewalk across the street. There was a sadness in Sarah's eyes that tugged at your heart, and you hurried over to her.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" you asked with concern.

Sarah sniffled and wiped away a tear. "It’s my parents. They are fighting again. It got really bad, and I just couldn't bear to be in the same house anymore."

Your heart sank at her words. You knew how difficult it must be for Sarah to witness her parents' constant conflicts. You put your arm around Sarah, offering her comfort. "I'm here for you, Sarah. You don't have to go through this alone."

Sarah nodded, her voice trembling. "It's been happening more and more lately."

You gently squeezed Sarah's hand. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. It's not easy to see your parents going through this."

Sarah wiped away another tear. "I just wish they could stop fighting. It hurts so much."

You couldn’t help but hug Sarah tighter, offering her support. "I know it hurts but remember that it's not your fault. Sometimes grown-ups have their own problems, and it's not something we can fix. But we can be there for each other."

Sarah nodded, the tiniest faint of smile forming on her face. "Thank you. I'm glad I have you as my friend."

The two of you stood there for a moment, finding solace in each other's presence, when suddenly the door swung open and Joel stepped out onto the porch. His eyes were weary, but his expression softened as he saw his daughter. He pulled her into a tight embrace, murmuring words of reassurance and apology. Sarah, finding comfort in her father's words, disappeared into the house, after bidding you goodbye, leaving you and Joel alone in the fading light of the evening. 

"Thanks for talking to Sarah earlier. She really needed someone to be there for her."

You nodded, your eyes filled with empathy. "Of course, Joel. You know I'm always here for her, for both of you."

Joel let out a deep sigh, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Honestly, I feel like such a shitty dad sometimes. Irene and I, we argue so much, and it's affecting Sarah. I just don't know how to protect her from all of this anymore.”

Your gaze shifted to Joel's hand, noticing the pink glittery nails that adorned his fingertips. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You know, Joel, I think you're an amazing dad. Look at those nails. Three days ago, Sarah painted them on you, and you're still proudly wearing them. That's love, Joel. You're willing to go the extra mile to make your daughter happy, even if it means sporting some glittery nails."

Joel chuckled, glancing down at his nails. "Yeah, she insisted on it, and I couldn't say no. Seeing her smile when she painted them was priceless. It's the little things, isn't it?"

You nodded, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Exactly, Joel. It's those little moments that matter the most. Sarah knows she has a dad who loves her unconditionally, even in the midst of all the challenges. And that, my friend, makes you an incredible father."

Joel's eyes met yours gratitude and a hint of amusement twinkling within them. “You know,�� you're something special, right?“ he began, and something in the air shifted, you were not sure what, but the atmosphere between Joel and you became charged with a newfound electricity, crackling with unspoken desires. Time seemed to slow down, your hearts beating in sync, as the unspoken tension between you became palpable. "I can't help but feel that you deserve so much more than what you settled for." His voice suddenly grew serious, his eyes searching yours.

You looked at him, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "More than Tommy?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel just looked at you, a bittersweet smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Tommy’s great. I just mean you deserve someone …Someone who would cherish you, who would give you the world," he replied, his words carrying a weight that hung low in the air. "Someone who sees your beauty, both inside and out, and appreciates every intricate detail that makes you who you are. " In this moment you yearned for his touch, his affection, but the fear of crossing boundaries had kept you at arm's length.

"Someone like... you?" you whispered, your voice laden with longing.

Joel's eyes held a mixture of longing and regret as he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. "Darlin’, you have no idea how much I wish I could be that someone," he confessed, his voice filled with a yearning that mirrored your own. "But – “

You didn’t wait for the but. For the doubts and restriction, quite frankly you had enough of all that. In this moment all the logic were defied and all that mattered was Joel and he wanted you.

So, in a moment of both vulnerability and bravery, you leaned in, your lips gently brushing against Joel's.

Joel's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly surrendered to the sweet intoxication of the kiss. His lips responded with equal fervor, a perfect harmony of longing and surrender. The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourselves in the embrace, your souls entwined in a dance that defied time and logic. As the kiss got more heated, more frantic and Joels grip tightening around your waist, you both understood the complexities of your situation, the obstacles that stood in your path. But in that moment, none of it mattered. You were simply two souls, baring your hearts to each other under the moonlit sky.

You pulled away slowly, your breaths mingling in the air as your eyes locked, mirroring the intensity of your emotions. Words were no longer necessary; your hearts spoke volumes in the silence that enveloped them.

Your fingers trembled against Joel's cheek as you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and certainty, " I- I am sorry."

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender. "Don’t be."

[turnwashingtonsbaddies]

PLS PLS OKS DEAR GOD GIVE US THE PUSS PUSS EATING RANKING OF TURN CHARACTERS I NEED IT LIKE SPONGEBOB NEEDS WATER (must include robert rogers)

ok im officially done with school (woo 🥳) so i can give everyone in my ask box what they've been waiting for. i am going to keep the list limited to the ppl in this promo photo bc there are so many goddamn characters in that show and if you want heavy-hitting analysis, i've gotta keep a short list (at least for now)

analysis under the cut:

as mentioned before caleb brewster does indeed SWEEP the pussy eating power rankings

as also mentioned before john andre is as mediocre in eating pussy as he is in acting and flute playing. he thinks he's amazing at it tho

now for the fun. i need to get this first paragraph out of the way bc it is about the man who made me begin to ponder this question 2 years ago in the first place. abraham. fucking. woodhull. this beanie-wearing menace to society has NEVER made anyone other than anna strong come. point blank period. even with anna tho, he's done it like maybe once or twice. whether or not he did it by giving her head is up for another debate tho

oh and speaking of anna strong. she gives me pillow princess vibes for a reason i cannot quite explain. it is just kind of a gut feeling i have. maybe it has to do with the fact that ppl are always just throwing themselves at her, so she doesn't have to bother with actually working on pleasuring them

but back to abe for a minute. he's actually (believe it or not) NOT the worst one on the list, and that is because richard woodhull has NEVER ONCE made a woman come. not even his wife. not once. richard has never even eaten pussy before. richard has only ever had sex in the missionary position. abe is a terrible partner for a reason, and that reason is bc he was raised by richard

one member of the woodhull family does possess some finesse however. mary woodhull eats pussy like a mf champion. i imagine her learning it was much like her learning how to fire a gun. at first she was like 'wtf is going on??? i cant do that??' but give it few tries and she easily upstages all the men around her

using mary shooting a gun as my transition here..... let's talk about simcoe. honestly, he does give me the vibes of someone who really wants to be good at eating pussy, and maybe he even enjoys doing it. however, i think he gives toothy head. and i also think he does it on purpose. that's right. he's a biter

speaking of ppl who enjoy eating pussy, i think hewlett slays in that department ngl. ik i said before that caleb is arguably the only man on the show who enjoys eating pussy, but i actually want to amend that bc i think hewlett does too. however, i think the one drawback for hewlett is that his desire and ability to give good head does come from a place of him being (and i mean this with peace and love hewlett enjoyers) a massive simp

i straight up dont have a transition for this one but it was literally an intrusive thought and i just need to expel it. ben tallmadge the type of guy to apologize after eating pussy. why? who knows. it could have even been decent head. he's still apologizing anyway. however my bet is that decent is the best he can do bc he's an overthinker, which can get in the way of having strong head game

finally, and yes i made you read all of this before giving you what you wanted anon, robert rogers. "(must include robert rogers)" is SO REAL. SO TRUE. you're right for saying so. however he is such an enigma to me and i really don't know where to place him both as an eater of pussy and frankly as an entity in general. i know he has to exist in some kind of extreme tho. god-tier head or the most abysmal head ever anyone's ever experienced. maybe he's even literally eating pussy, like in a cannibalism way. i'm not ruling that out either. honestly, maybe the quality of head varies between sessions too. after all, he's always gotta keep em on their toes

[crescenthistory]

hi babes!! First of all, congrats on 2k!!! Very much deserved!! Ur an amazing author, and a very very sweet person!!!

I was wondering i could do interpret? You don't gotta, I thought it'd be fun :D

My favorite song at the moment is U from Belle (eng version. Or a million miles away eng version, both are so good, even tho the movie is like 6/10, the soundtrack is fucking scrumptious)

I am going to be studying pastry and culinary art, and spend an embarrassing amount of money on baking equipment i do NOT have room for lol. I'm learning French and fucking hate sciences (which my mom bullies me for bc pastry is all science :[), I spend a lot of time reading on my phone and like to do my nails. I am trans masc, but like im a man in a way a tomato is a fruit, and I'm pan! Bc people are just 🤌🤌🤌. I have two cats and desperately want more, and maybe a dog, and I really want a opossum, irs legal here. And a racoon. Or a ferret. Maybe a mouse. I like animals, a lot. I also am and only child and can NOT touch other people's laundry, I have a germ thing, I also dislike doesn't dishes other people used, it makes me wanna cry.

I also talk a lot, it's a problem, I don't really shut up. Probably because I'm an only child, im sorry. I recently had surgery, and the recovery process is gonna be most of my life, bc of a deformed up bone in my knee i was born with and multiple torn tendons from dance. I also am recovering from some mental health issues that caused some unsavory things to happen and now I feel like I've given too much information and I'm gonna go.

Ur very cool, I hope you and ur wife have a lovely week, yall are so cute!!!!

hi evan!! hi bestie!! thank you for dropping in, of course i can interpret for you<33 you're very cute too and both my wife and i are sending you twice as much love right back at you (she is also a woman in the way a tomato is a fruit lol)

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i will INTERPRET for nightsmarish

carina's 2k celebration

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honestly, i can see you with poly!prongsfoot!

partly because i feel like i cannot possibly ship an evan with an evan and partly because i have come to associate you with a chaotic yet calm energy that i think would pair well with prongfoot's. the balance in you between wholesome love and loud enthusiasm is one that prongsfoot brings out of each other and would thrive with. james was born a yapper and sirius has worked on being more vocal and chatty, so you would never ever find any judgment from them for talking a lot. on the contrary, i think it would make them both feel more comfortable with you, like they can be themselves fully. in muggle au's, i can often picture sirius as a baker and regardless i think he would find your passion for it very endearing and want to encourage it. james would spend all his money getting you whatever equipment you want just to watch you and sirius have fun figuring out new techniques. (james will also HAPPILY eat any and every batch you make, successful or not.) these two are the definition of passionately loyal and would so rope you into all of that, supporting and taking care of you post-surgery and as you're on your journey to mental recovery. they accommodate for each other unspokenly all the time and i think they would do the same for you without really communicating it – which they definitely should communicate, but the thought is still endearing. lastly, poly!prongsfoot would have such a good time living with various animals, it would be a borderline sitcom to witness for all their friends and family (who, of course, would become your friends and family – you're no longer an only child).

[fictionkinfessions]

My darling fiancée, when asked which kin I should write a Valentine's kinfession for, said I should write one to him specifically. I, lesbianically, accept the challenge. For all our many lives together. And so, I must apologize for the length of this letter.

To Dina: Love of my life. You're so amazing that lifetimes later I still can't believe you were into me too. You made JJ, the most amazing little guy to ever grace the planet Earth (much less the city of Jackson). You were a bombshell, you were the coolest person I ever met, and Lev'orli was the other part of Luciferon we didn't know they needed. I love you, babe. I always love you.

To Yennefer: My other half. The family I always wanted but never knew until you were in my arms. The mother of Ciri, the one who taught her to be the beautiful and amazing woman she grew up to be. The most amazing sorceress to ever exist. The raven-haired woman who saved me from myself on more occasions than one. I was never a man of many words, but I could continue saying them about you for an eternity. Our fates are bound, wish or no wish. I am yours, if you will have me.

To the SS Aurora: My ship. I will always be your mechanic. I will always pull you from yourself and hold you. I will always be yours. I will always come back to you. I'm sorry I left. Forgive me? Forgive me?

To Harley Quinn: Have I expressed enough times my love for you, Harleen? I married you. We raised our girls together. You recovered from all that hurt you, we got to live the life we both wanted. Perhaps we ran into trouble along the way, but don't you prefer it like that? I sometimes look at you and shudder. Not because of anything bad, but because I had you and you're still mine. I'm yours, too. We are each other's because of the life we made together. Isn't that amazing? Isn't it special? Our family is still everything to me. Even if I just had you, it would still be everything.

To Persephone: Oh, my wife. My lonesome wife who heralds the spring and always cycles in and out of reach. I will always wait for winter to come so I can find you at my side again. I will always long for you when you leave for the break of day. We orbit one another, my love, and we will always be together.

To Rose: Your Cinders will come for you, my love.

To Sasha: Fuck, you're still everything. I mean, we started as an act, right? We were the quarterback and the most popular girl in school. It was meant to be, for that. But then you were in that dress. We were good together. I mean good for real. And then we got to dive into what made us the messes we were. We were good at it. You helped me find out who I was, under all of it. You were a once in a lifetime chance, baby, and I'm glad I held on tight.

To Sophie: What is there to say? You saved me. You made me a better woman. You are the star in my night sky, the sun in my day, the one who wakes me up in the morning and shows me there's still good in the world. I love you, Sophie Hatter. I hope I've said it enough times for it to sink in.

To my TARDIS: You took me so many places. You were always there, even when I was alone. You saw the worst of me and still loved me enough to run away with me. You kept my loved ones safe. My love.

To Rose Tyler: Love of my life. I had more than one, I know, but you really blow me away. Willing to give up everything to save me? Three times? I'm so glad we got our happily ever afters. You deserved to see everything the universe had to offer, and then some. Two universes was never going to be enough to contain you. My hearts were yours from the moment you stepped onto the TARDIS, and they remain yours to this day. I can't wait to see what you do next. I'm sure it'll be fantastic.

To Patience: Our life together was so sweet. I will never forget you and the way our family grew under your care and love. You were my first love, my first real love, and that sort of love never leaves you. Not when everyone dies, when the war is over and the dust settles and nothing is left. The love is still there. The way you understood when I knew I had to go, to take Susan with me and keep her safe. Your brilliance and your understanding are what kept me going in my first four hundred years, you know. They still do.

To Link: My knight. My eternal protector. You really didn't need to do all that. I asked you not to. But you still came. You still protected me. You still came to my side when I berated you. And out of that came the best relationship I'd ever had — not just a friend, but a true companion. Someone who I could slide in with and always feel safe. That's what you are, Link. My safety.

To Juno: My detective in shining blaster pistol. Mother of my children, dashing lady who's saved me time and again. The one who saved me from myself, in fact. Pulled me out of the grasp of foul capitalism and gave me a life away from who I had been for somebody else all those years. Do you know what it is? To be free? After being held back for so long? Juno, I don't know what you think you are to me, but whatever it is, magnify it ten thousand times. You are perfect. I have known I have loved you since the day we met and that hasn't changed because we've changed. I don't need the fire of newly discovered passion, I have the security of knowing we love one another. That we will always be each other's. That I can be myself without you, too. Juno I need you to know that you are not my other half, that we are whole on our own, but that my life is only half as worthwhile to live if it doesn't have you to share it. I'm never letting you go.

To Wyll: The Blade of Frontiers, all mine. I'm afraid you'll soon discover I'm not the wordsmith you are. With your poetry and your little words. You're a romantic, Wyll Ravengard, and you've enraptured me with your earnestness and…love. There was a time I'd never have believed it. Hells, there's a time I'd never have believed I deserved it. You proved me wrong. You proved that a vampire and a monster hunter can not only meet and love one another but make one another better along the way. You proved that I, of all people, can mother and somehow be half decent at it. Let's do it all over again, shall we, darling?

To Tahir: There's two letters I should write here. Instead, I already know you know. I'm sorry, and I'm glad we have one another.

To Louis: You are the only being I trust, and whom I love, above and beyond myself. All my love belongs to you. You are its keeper. This isn't quite as true as it used to be, but you are still my eternal companion. I love you. I have always loved you. I will love you until the moment I die, until the moment you leave and leave me wanting again. I will love you when you are far away, I will love you when you are in my arms, and I will ache with your absence. Our lives are intertwined, as they ever shall be, and I would have it no other way. I will weave myself into the fabric of your life until you cannot remove me, for that is the only way we may both be sated for this hunger that was born between us the day I laid eyes on you. It took us so much time, but we found one another again. We shall meet on every shore, mon cher, and in every avenue. I will give you everything, as I always have, and I can only hope that through my love you find the happiness we both crave. There is a cavity in my chest that can only be filled by the love that we share, and I forever trust you to fill it.

Happy Valentine's Day. And since you wanted me to ask, I'll ask: will you be my Valentine, love? #🌿🏹🩸

(MPC you obviously don't need to tag it all but for your reference, in order it is: Ellie Williams from TLOU; Geralt from the Witcher; Nastya Rasputina from the Mechanisms; Poison Ivy/Pamela Isley from DC; Hades from both Hadestown and the Hades game series; Cinders from the Mechanisms: Once Upon a Time in Space; Cameron Solomon from Cinderbrush; Howl from Howl's Moving Castle; The Doctor from Doctor Who (x3); Zelda from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild; Peter Nureyev from the Penumbra Podcast; Astarion Ancunín from Baldur's Gate 3; The Dark Urge from Baldur's Gate 3; Lestat de Lioncourt from Interview with the Vampire)

placeholder text because tumblr wont let me post ask messages without something in the reply box

[shirefantasies]

I have only asked for one matchup in the past like 8 years of imagine blog requesting but I figured hey, why not? I've been reading your blog nonstop for like 2 weeks, lol! Lets see, I'm about 5ft 4 with a bob of ringlets and a round, even, bespectacled face. I'm pretty curvy and perhaps on the heavier side but I've got a lot more strength to my frame than most give me credit for! In the day to day folks look at me and think I'm a 100% cerebral kind of person and for the most part they'd be right, at least when I was younger. I used to be the ultimate shut-in for the simple fact that I suffer from a family curse on my father's side- when we aren't learning we feel like we're *fucking dieing*(i didn't make tht up it's the family running joke!). These days I'm much more outgoing; I play DnD in 2 groups, have tons of online friends I talk to regularly, I've got a routine of 'sister night's where me and my sister paint together, I sing in a chorus, and I've got study sessions with my mentor going too- so I'm kinda a former-antisocial-dork-turned-deliberate-part-of-their-communities kinda chick. I feel like if i was dropped in middle earth I'd wanna try and build a printing press, my first degree was in graphic design so I know a ton about all the different kinds, I'd love to share! After all, what's the point of learning if you don't use your information to *help* people? Guess I'd be a scribe if I was born there tho. I skew towards liking the hobbit characters more than LOTR, but I'm up for anyone that's in both, too. Congrats on 300, you deserve it!!

Thank you so much for your support and heck yeah, *you* deserve the treat of a matchup too 😘 I’m so glad you said that about the hobbit characters because I definitely had someone in mind for you…

Dear Ori!

Ori finds out someone is causing quite a stir with a new invention, so of course he has to see what all the fuss is about! Something about a revolution amongst his world of scribes happening right at the foot of his home down in Dale. Making his way down to the study named, he musters up the courage to knock on the door. Coming to call unannounced isn't exactly the most polite behavior, he knows, but then again this inventor must be having a lot of that these days. He isn't expecting to see a cute young woman open the door, though, and his first thought is one hoping you aren't just the inventor's wife opening the door for them.

You are not. The moment Ori shyly greets you, asking if it's true what the scribes are saying about an exciting new device, your eyes light up and you usher him in. Inside your home is a bit messy, but the comforting sort of messy where charming china sits out atop tables, game boards at their sides, papers are strewn about with notes and diagrams and drawings Ori wishes he could see better. A potted plant sits in one corner with an unfinished sketch of its likeness on the adjacent shelf. A fire is fighting its best to stay lit behind an elaborately styled metal gate, no doubt to keep it that much further from all the paper. All in all, Ori thinks to himself that this is somewhere he could live. As you begin taking him across the room to a door, you animatedly discuss your many trials and errors before you reveal your masterpiece. A great structure with some sort of metal rod and a bunch of blocks? Printing press, you call it. You had blocks for each letter, the rod pulled down to press the ink down... "Now we can save some time if we need a lot of copies! What do you think?" You stood there with your head expectantly tilted, hands clasped in front of you. "They say Thorin or Bard might like something like this for decrees, but as a fellow scribe do you see a future with this?"

Gaping at your smarts and flushing at the faint flutter of your eyelashes, Ori nods. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen, and I fought a dragon." "You...fought a dragon?" It is your turn to gape as you peer at the dwarf with new interest. "Threatened to show him dwarvish iron where the sun don't shine," he replied with a proud smile, arms crossed, "but you know, in the end Mr. Bard got 'im. We all showed him what for, though! This tops that by a long shot, though- how'd you think of this?" Kettle on first, hours of discussion later. Soon it was near nightfall and Ori was apologizing profusely and you were waving it off, asking him for promise of a return with the sketches he mentioned.

A whole new page of sketches gets dedicated to figures with bobs of lovely curls, gorgeous curves that have Ori blushing, smiles upon a round, cheery face and spectacles never fully betraying the eyes' secrets. Whole hours of Ori’s day get dedicated to carving blocks for your press and trying them out with you and feeling his heart flip at the way you take his hands and leap in celebration. He can listen to you talk, whether it’s explaining your invention process or the instructions of the game you’re teaching him or even simply sharing some random animal facts from the latest book you picked up, all day, he thinks. And then one day as he’s leaving you press a kiss to his cheek and that’s it.

Flowers and a new book are thrust into your hand the moment you open the door, Ori standing before you telling you how much he likes you and can’t stop thinking about you and you positively must interrupt him to tell him he’s been like home to you or else he’ll keep going, the poor dear. He wants to take you out that day, walk you around proudly and savor the feeling of your hand in his as he shows you off.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[homeohzone]

Hello, New York!! (chapter 1)

I always thought I had everything. I had the nice house, a somewhat normal upbringing, a cushy job. Some people would even say I had it nicer than most. At least that’s what I thought. Yet here I find myself, packing my bags and leaving our home, my home, and moving into a subpar hotel. Ok, maybe I don’t always spend as much time with my kids as I'm supposed to. Maybe I'm not always emotionally available to my wife. At least I try. I don’t expect this arrangement to last long. A week, maybe two at most. Rarity usually gets over it with enough time, once she's gotten her mane redone and had time to think it over. This isn't the first time it happened. But maybe she did mean it this time. Her words had stung me more than usual. As the memory replays in my head, I wince. Do you ever think of anyone but yourself, Donny? Her words echo in my brain, cutting deeper and deeper, yet I find strength to shake them off, if only for brief moment. I shut my suitcase, one of my ties sticking out just a bit, and drop it onto the ground. BZZT. My pocket vibrates. I grab out my phone to check. It was an alarm. Leave for airport. Fuck. I'm late. I rush to the car with my things, and start haphazardly shoving them in, without much thought.

"Fuck" I mutter to myself, "How could you waste so much time doing nothing?" My blonde hair flows through the wind, getting in my face just a little. I push it back into place and continue stuffing my trunk. As I put my stuff inside, I make a mental checklist. I have my laptop bag, my suitcase, my clothes, my… don’t tell me I forgot my toothbrush. I shuffle through my toiletry bag, to no avail. There isn't enough time to stop and grab it. Just the icing on my horrible morning. I use all of my force to close the trunk, then cram myself into the driver's seat. I don’t usually drive myself, but today, I just knew I needed the time alone. Pulling out of the driveway, I look back to my house one last time. I already miss my bed, my office, my life. Turning my head away, I drive off.

I pass by the fountain near the front gate, its water flowing out like the emotions in my heart. As I choke back tears, I mutter to myself. "I don’t… I don’t want to leave…"

After hours of driving, I arrive at the airport. Sure, I could have flown in a private jet, or even took first class, but I felt like I deserved economy. After all I had done to hurt her, this is the least I can do to punish myself.

As I rush into the terminal area, memories flood back. This was the first airport me and Rarity had been in. We had taken our first flight together here. Tears well up in my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away. If she doesn't love me, I wont love her. Thankfully, my thoughts are interrupted as the boarding staff call my section out. I get up, and walk towards them

I board onto the plane, my eyes darting back and forth. I forgot how nerve-wracking this all can be. Although I am wearing a facemask to hide my identity, one wrong step, and this plane ride could turn into a media fiasco. As I sit in my window seat, and as the plane takes off, I look out. I'm biding my old life farewell, and ushering in a new me. One not tied down by some shrill, cold woman. One where I can finally find out who I am. My ride was uneventful. If anyone recognized me, they had not made it clear. The plane landed, and I got out. The people engulf me, but they don't notice. These people had better things to worry about. The woman passing me might be off to an important interview. The man, seeing his child for the first time. I was a total nobody. And it felt amazing. As I walk deeper into the crowd, I suddenly get an urge. I spin around once, taking in my surroundings. This can be my new home. Hello, New York!

[unhingedselfships]

Phe listened to her wife rant as she tapped away on her phone. The visit had been hell and ended in disaster. 

And it was hurting her.

She texted the man in question. Kadokura Fucking Kenshi.

OA : you broke our wife

As much as Ophelia would like for the answer to be “stab him” that wouldn’t actually help.

Well, it wouldn't help Kimi.

It’d make Phe feel great.

But that was neither here nor there.

So she called Kadokura, facetime. And then muted his end. Setting him so he could see, could hear, but hidden just enough.

Couldn’t let Kimi know he was ‘present’.

She let the woman rant a bit longer about how hurt she was. How she couldn't believe that nearly 30 fucking years wasn't enough to prove that she was in it for him.

"I mean really! There are plenty of attractive older men with dry-mean senses of humor!"

“So why do you even bother then?”

“Eh? What do you mean?” the ranting girl was thrown off.

“I mean, obviously he’s shit and he hurts you. So why? What about him keeps you coming back? Is there anything you actually like about him?” “You- Rude, Phe.”

“Answer the question, Kimi.”

The air was silent for a moment.

“He’s such an ass.”

“Great start Kimimi,” she laughed.

“Hush you didn’t let me finish! He’s such an ass, but like. Honestly, it’s impressive. He’s so perceptive. I mean yeah he can pull off general dickishness fine too, but he picks people apart so easily, gets under their skin and really hurts them, and I know objectively most people would say that’s not a good thing but its just so damn impressive and- The reverse is true too yanno? When someone does something that impresses him, he says so. He tells them, in clear specific terms. He doles out praise maybe not as often, but with the same honed in perceptions. I love watching him.”

“So he’s really good at being an asshole.”

“I- You’re choosing the worst possible version of what I said.”

“Of course. I, don’t like him. What else?”

“He’s terrifyingly intelligent. Kind of a dumbass sometimes but like- that's impulse control not intelligence. He's just so fucking smart. The way he picks up the things he cares about so quick. I always feel so inadequate next to him. It’s never anything he does or says, he’s always good with telling me when I impress him. I just- He’s so amazing, and I don’t feel like I ever measure up, but I don’t mind. Not in- An ego way.”

"And he's so patient. Well. No he isn't. But he is. With me, and the kids. About some things. More than he is with most people. It's- it's nice, feeling special to someone."

Something passed over her face, pained, and it was easy to see the unspoken 'two out of three kids'. 

"He hates doing it for most people as far as I can tell but with us, he slows down when we need him too. Takes his time to explain things, in simpler terms we can understand.

And he's so good with them. Kichi and Mio. I- I know he doesn't think so but I think he would have been a good father, given the chance. Not perfect, and he'd have needed help but. I'm not great myself. I think we could have managed."

Phe could see the way the girl was getting wound up. The light in her eyes, the sincerity in her voice. The way she moved and babbled.

True, genuine Kimi. 

Real and honest and unfiltered.

“And! He’s so passionate. Well. About some things. Some things he couldn’t give a shit less about but like, mood, fair. But when he does enjoy something? He gets so wound up and can talk for hours and I- I just really love listening to him. The amount of care he puts into the things he chooses is- I wish I had even half that.”

“And ok, maybe he’s not the most ‘traditional’ about it, but when have I ever given a shit about that? He is caring, and loving, and giving, in his own ways. He might act all put out but he’s never hesitated to fix me something I wanted to eat no matter how weird, or grab something I needed, or just, hold me when I was sad. Maybe that’s selfish of me but- He gives a shit and you can tell, and that means a lot.”

“He works so hard at staying good at the skills he has, without going overboard. I can’t do that. I mean yeah he can be fickle as all hell but when he cares, his discipline is insane.”

“He knows how to make people comfortable, even if he doesn’t really care, that’s never mattered to me. Well, except when it comes to me haha. But like. He can put people at ease, make them content and comfortable, for whatever reason. He always knows what to say. Maybe not to me, but I think I’m an anomaly he struggles with. Which, fair, I’m fuckin’ weird.”

"I could watch him for hours. The care and precision he moves with. He's so aware of himself. When he cooks, when he's cleaning a gun, I could sit with him while he sharpened the entire knife collection and be happy. I love watching him work."

"I love how carelessly thoughtful he can be. I don't think he even realizes. He just does things. Sure he can be thoughtlessly cruel too but. Fuck if any of us are saints."

"And I mean- yeah he. He hurts me. So much. Sometimes he doesn't mean to, sometimes he does. But I stay. I put up with it. Because he's worth it and I love him. He's difficult. He's a very difficult man. And- he's not always the easiest to like, I'll admit that. Sometimes I get so angry with him. But. He is so easy to love. I do like him too, most of the time. Maybe not the way he's acting in a given moment but. 

“He just. He’s smart, savvy, and sweet. He’s driven and talented and generous. Maybe he’s fickle and childish, he can be so mean, and careless, he hides so much and I wish he- But- He’s perfect. Fucked up and damaged and perfect. He's different, from the standard, sure but. That's it. Different. Not better. Not worse. Just him. And I just really really love him. I hate that I can’t measure up.”

She'd been in near constant motion, speaking in wild disconnected thoughts. Stream of consciousness. 

“I see, I see. Now have you tried telling him any of this? Maybe start being more specific in your compliments in general?”

"But- I always tell him he's amazing?"

"Do you ever tell him why?"

The understanding came over her and anyone could see the way her heart dropped.

Anyone who knew her knew her pain, the way she hurt.

"I- I really let him down, didn't I?"

"Mm yes and no. You could have said these things, to him, and sooner. But he should have known that no one would have put up with his ass thing long just because."

The two women kept up the conversation, discussing things Kimi could work on, and she left the line open. Dipshit-chan would either hang up or he wouldn’t. Made no difference to her.

[peakyswritings]

SHARK I REALISED JUST NOW I NEVER LEFT A COMMENT ON THIS????? The way my brain works will always be a mystery to me🙄

First of all, the way you describe the setting is always so detailed and so poetic that it never fails to immediately bring me into the story. You caught Luca’s mannerism so well, as well as his general behaviour and way of speaking. The way you conveyed his elegance and composure with the underlying creepiness was mind-blowing. And before go on to the specific scenes, I have to tell you how much I loved the “dance” between them, both metaphorical and literal. Or, to say it in better words, first metaphorical and then literal. Because before they physically danced together, they did it with their minds, by studying each other, by trying to have the other figured out, by compromising. And I also really liked how both of them, despite keeping their firm facade, were actually taken aback by each other, cause they were expecting to be confronted with someone entirely different. It made their confrontation even more fascinating.

Now about some specific scenes.

I really liked how Heaven got straight to the point, instead of dancing around the subject. It really made a difference between Luca taking his time with everything, almost unnervingly I might say, and her straightforwardness.

It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. […] "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

I was eating apple slices and I bet looked just like this during this monologue.

The way you have of creating suspence is so amazing. And then the dance part completely enthralled me. Again, your way of setting the scene, of describing all the small details is so perfect.

Now I’m gonna hide to say that there’s a bit of chemistry there, I can’t lie about it🫣

From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

Just a few moments before I was thinking about something. I wonder if Heaven sees a bit of Amos in Luca? Even outside this setting that reminds her of something she already lived, I mean.

Heaven’s slowly descent into anger had me at the edge of my seat. The way her irritation progressed into a murderous frenzy was so well paced, and for a moment I really thought she’d kill him. I mean, who could blame her?

“If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee."

Luca, love, I have the feeling if you ever tried something like that, you’d be lying cold on the floor before you could even realise what’s happening. But it’s just a feeling. Definitely just a feeling.

Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly. The baby.

Why do I sense that this is gonna be a problem in the future?🫠

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me."

Omg AURORA my love.

Of course Tommy would fuck things up. Doing it Heaven’s way would’ve spared them lots of trouble.

That scene between Heaven and Arthur made me melt, I love them so much. HE’S SO CUTE HE BROUGHT HER A FLOWER I WANNA SQUISH HIM.

“I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his."

Well if this ain’t Tommy😂

I loved how Arthur seemed to have learned from his mistakes and talked to her about taking snow, and also how she understood it was what he needed in that moment. It was a little moment of communication, but so important.

"So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God."

WHAT’S THAT ENDING? WHAT’S THAT ENDING AHEHEHRBRNDKDK.

Shark, this chapter was awesome. You have this thing of outdoing yourself every chapter, it’s truly amazing. And I’m sorry I was so late with this comment!

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: When starting the vendetta with the Peaky Blinders, Luca Changretta didn't expect you, Arthur's wife, to be the one meeting him. Now that you're facing him, he's determined to make you understand who leads the dance. It's a man's world after all! || Featuring Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 6.7k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, drug use, slight allusions to sex, canonical misogyny, quick allusions to domestic abuse, witchcraft (canonical since PB flirts with it sometimes), fluff, Arthur is as fucked up as cute, depictions of slaughter and body horror. The last part of this chapter is a flash forward. What happened will be described in the next chapter.

Notes:

✞ The mentioned character of Aurora, Luca's wife, belonged to @zablife.

✞ The bold sentence Heaven says comes from Lana Del Rey.

✞ This is chapter 15 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Usually, each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The dim glow of luxuriant chandeliers cast their orange light over the bar, their warm hue sublimating the rich notes of aged oak from which the counter had been sculpted. Standing alone on a barstool with your crystal gaze fixed on the swirling depths of your glass of red wine, you relished how the liquid gracefully danced and caught the light in a hypnotizing display of crimson elegance. Smooth as silk, its robe was deprived of lees and hugged your throat at each sip. It had been a while since you hadn't drunk such fine alcohol, and this experiment was almost enough to make you forget the curious glances of some noisy clients. As rare as it was to see a woman drinking by herself at the bar without the company of a gentleman due to the prohibited nature of such actions, no one had dared confront you about the matter yet. The waiter had thought of doing so because it didn't feel right to him but one look at the deadly frost of your eyes had been efficient enough for him to swallow his words and mind his own business. Wise decision, you weren't in the mood to be polite. There had been something off in the way you had stared at him, like a wild cat waiting for its prey to come just a little bit closer to pounce on it. He quickly lowered his gaze and went on with wiping down his glass, definitely not taking the risk of causing a scene. Bringing the expensive glass to your plump lips, you froze mid-movement at the sudden feeling of someone's presence behind your back. So, he came. Your mouth slowly curled in a cold, sardonic smirk. Your special guest didn't bother to greet you. Instead, he simply put his fedora hat on the bar counter right where the corner of your eyes you could see it.

"Isn't it the lady who should play hard to get?" You stated before drowning your sarcasm with a gulp of wine, its complex and refined taste displaying all its flavors on your tongue. So far, it has been one of the few places in which the wine was exquisite. And French, of course.

Swiftly slipping between two barstools, the man sat next to you — all his movements, measured and confident, denoted an indescribable elegance.

"So?" A collected and alluring voice inquired, wasting no time in futile courtesy nor in answering your taunt. He would have been surprised if his men hadn't warned him that you were the kind of woman to never be at a loss for words. Just like the two other harpies of the Shelby clan though.

"So, you spare my husband." You finished your glass and put it back on the wooden counter with a movement that translated both your firmness and determination. If there was one thing he had learned throughout his gangster life it was to pay attention to details. Since the very beginning of his criminal activities, Luca always focused on the way someone moved, especially because body language often said much more about people than words themselves. Contrary to prose, the body never lied, and concerning yours the signals were rather clear: you wouldn't cave in. "Oh, and you also spare Finn but it stands to reason. He's just a kid after all." Your request, spoken with a measured yet Artic calmness, snatched an amused snort from the threatening man. How did you dare bargain with him about who would die and who would live while your place wasn't in men's business? Luca slightly shook his head, disconcerted by the fact that the random wife of an enemy could behave so insolently with him while he could easily end her life with the gun he was hiding under his four-digit price jacket.

"In return for what?" His sharp eyes fixed intently on your dainty frame as he spoke. His expression, usually veiled in stoic composure, betrayed a keen attentiveness that mirrored his interest. Making himself comfortable on the barstool, he withdrew a matchbox from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the muted light. With languid grace, he extracted a match, the small stick cradled between his fingers, and brought it to his lips.

"Tommy Shelby." Your voice resounded like a chilling death knell when you pronounced these syllables nonchalantly as if selling one of your in-laws was nothing but one of the many formalities to retrieve your peaceful life. Such apathy was a bit chilling he reckoned. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he held the match delicately between his teeth. After a while, you eventually condescended to look at the man, your iris meeting the splendid green of his. The same green eyes that squinted a little bit now that they had a clear sight of your doll face, whose cold beauty made him wonder what the hell such a delicate thing like you was doing here, involving herself in the middle of intricating gang wars.

"Well, interesting." He mused, a part of him genuinely excited at the thought of butchering Tommy, the other still intrigued by you and how you contrasted with everything else around. No, how you contrasted with everything he had ever seen in his life. Changretta's features, chiseled and unyielding, remained an inscrutable mask, but beneath the surface, a calculated mind sought to see right through you. His posture exuded a quiet confidence despite your unsettling aura and ghostly appearance, a testament to the years of navigating the treacherous underworld of crimes.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked, going on with his observation of every tiny detail of your face. To be honest, Luca didn't imagine you like this. All he had been told about you was that you were the French harlot Arthur Shelby had married, some kind of bratty young girl who came from nowhere. At first, he was convinced that you would be nothing but boring at worst, or entertaining in your way of begging for your husband's life at best but you were none of these. Now that he was sitting next to you at the bar, discussing as if he hadn't murdered one of the most important people in your life, he found himself enthralled by the pure snow-white color of your long hair. More than your unusual hair color, what had surprised him the most was how your coldness cut with the softness of your physical traits. You felt like a walking paradox to him, your appearance conveying a message at the antithesis of what you truly were.

"Because it's all in my interest to see him dead and cold." You replied with a little shrug. Admittedly, you didn't imagine him like this. Quite the contrary, your mind had created the picture of a rat-faced gangster marked with ugly scars and vicious black eyes by dint of hearing how Arthur talked about him. Yet, here you were, facing a rather attractive gentleman with such atypical traits and a charismatic aura that your eternal coldness was slightly shaken. Men of these kinds were always the most dangerous, you thought with full knowledge of the facts. Luca Changretta was something: as slim as Arthur yet standing taller, his face was adorned with a seductive charm and an aquiline nose which rendered his features even more unique.

"Principessa" He started, sneering. Luca pushed the match to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue one last time before his sly fingers grabbed it to put it in the nearest ashtray. Then, his hand reached for the whisky glass the waiter had just put in front of him, "Allow me to doubt that. You are a Shelby, and I've heard your clan is tightly knitted together. Don't think of me fool enough to believe that a Shelby would want to kill another one." Luca concluded his accusation with a little head tilt as he swallowed his whisky in one go. A small grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the pleasant burn the alcohol left in his trail.

"The only reason I bear the name Shelby is for my husband, not for anyone else. If you aren't aware of it may I suggest that your informants only did half of the job otherwise you should have known that Thomas had been nothing but a bane to my existence from the first day we met."

"A bane? That's not a trivial world to use when talking about your brother-in-law." Changretta's fingers, adorned with sleek rings, tapped against the wooden counter as a clear manifestation of his suspicions.

"Well, he had tried to strangle me, then blamed me for his son's abduction, and also for his brother's death and now he is actively seeking to ruin my marriage. I think "bane" is an appropriate way to call him. Now," You said with a little wave of the hand, "if my offer doesn't stir your interest I'd rather leave." When you shifted your body to stand up, Luca's immense hand gently rested on yours to invite you to sit back. The striking temperature difference between his warm flesh and the iciness of your skin gave him sudden goosebumps. Once you did sit back, his unimpressed mask cracked and moved on to an amused and fascinated smile that danced on his thin lips. It was a heavily murderous speech for such a little thing. If it wasn't for the frost you were made of, you would have made him think of his own more fire-coded wife.

"Let me tell you something. My mother was a very patient woman you know?" He said out of the blue with a softer voice, "I've never heard her raise her voice during all my childhood except once. That was one of the many reasons she was a teacher every kid loved. When she did yell at me I was a kid and I just saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. Straight out of a fairy tale with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow and little beady eyes as red as precious rubies. Usually, wild animals are skippish but that little fella didn't move away when I approached it. It seemed so quiet and docile that I decided to pet it. And do you know what the ferret did?" Luca leaned over you at his question, his face closer to yours and his smirk stretching in an evil grin, "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite. I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh up to this day. A bite scar among the gunshots and stab wounds." He paused for a while, his green eyes momentarily dropping to your swollen lips and lingering on the white pearly fangs he could glimpse at when you "tsk" at him. The air suddenly crackled with a palpable tension that thickened with every second flying by. Each of his silences loudly echoed the rising intensity of the moment one of you would snap at the other. But it never happened, and the only thing Luca did was grin even more, his squinted eyes meeting yours again. "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

His words, coated with honey but cutting like razor blades, made the corner of your plum lips subtlety curl in a dangerous but brief smirk too at the realization that all the rumors surrounding the Italian were true: he was devilishly clever. Maybe that was why you didn't manage to completely hate him despite his horrible actions. While your dainty body, your small size, and the far-too-seraphic complexions of your face often misled people about the brutality that was coursing through your cursed veins and the sickening void of your coal-black pupils, Luca didn't fall for any of them. Not even the glittery makeup and your big round eyes could make him ignore the creepy murmurs of the underlying Devil living in you. After a brief and uncomfortable silence that seemed to last one awful eternity, you finally parted your lips.

"Let me tell you something too," Your voice was a gentle melody, "Arthur and John should have killed your mother." Each word flowed like a soft breeze, carrying a subtle allure that only enhanced the cruelty of their meaning. Your lack of consideration for potentially hurting his feelings had taken him aback. " But they decided to spare her despite Little King Shelby's ruthless order. They genuinely wanted to do it out of sheer compassion" You pursed your lips and backed up from Luca, rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' idiots, they should have killed her when they had the chance." The mobster quickly moistened his lips, the faint surprised expression on his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"His ruthlessness was right." He agreed, "They should have." Luca concluded, yet elaborating an arrangement with you didn’t seem to be his top priority suddenly. The mobster already knew he would grant you your wishes, the idea of having direct access to Tommy was too alluring to resist after all. What he wanted at his precise moment was… Different.   "You know, I don't fear being bitten anymore — the danger is a deliciously wicked part of the job I learned to accept and love. Considering this, Mrs, Shelby" He let his sentence hanged as he offered you the palm of his hand, long and bony fingers waiting for yours. "May I ask for a dance?" His eyes sparkled with an amusement that hinted at a hidden game, a dance of power between you and him. The seductive charm with which he invited you blurred the lines between rivalry and fascination.

"Do we have a deal?" You inquired with one brow raised, just to make sure he had taken notes of your terms.

"A deal for a dance." He slightly wiggled the fingers of his inviting hand. "Plus, you're already dancing with me in your own way."

A discreet and longer inhale escaped from your nostrils as you weighed the pros and cons but still you slipped your hand into his, which enveloped your skin with a tender strength. A little dance couldn't hurt anyone, you thought. Without further ado, Luca led the way to the dance floor as you both snaked in and out through the crowd until you reached a more spacious corner. It was the mafioso who initiated the dance. First, his grip strengthened around you: not to the extent of hurting you of course but definitely enough to make you understand that you were trapped. Then, his arm wrapped around your waist firmly like a snake. "Closer," He instructed and you obliged, taking a step toward him and placing your free upon his shoulder. After he set the rhythm, you started to move to the slow melody the orchestra was playing across the room. As the haunting music enveloped you, you moved in synchronized steps, your bodies entwined in a waltz that displayed outside tenderness while your eyes held a sharp glint of adversaries locked in an unspoken battle.

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

With each twirl and turn, the odd and gripping tension you shared thickened, just like an intricate tango of conflicting emotions. As soft as the dance had started, it was gradually turning into a visceral yet elegant battlefield where intimidation and seduction engaged in a delicate but fierce fight.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

Your heart leaped in your tight ribcage at a sudden dip, your hair hanging down like a silver cascade, and your gaze set on the golden sculpted ceiling that quickly flashed in front of your eyes before disappearing, replaced by Luca's intense green eyes again.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

"Don't be shy Amore," He cooed with a charming wink before pulling you even closer to him until your body collided with his. You stopped breathing for a short moment, shutting your eyes when you realized that your face was almost nuzzled in the crook of his neck. In that fleeting moment, you relinquished a fraction of your resistance, swept away by the remote yet familiar feeling of letting someone guide you without any need to think— or maybe that was the sweet fragrance of his cologne which pleasantly tingled your nostrils that woke up memories anchored deep within your mind. From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

And you hated how pleasant it felt. You viscerally hated it.

Both the song's tempo and Luca's steps fastened as he noticed the subtle change in your facial expression, slowly turning your graceful dance into a dizzying and confusing round. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, daring it to reveal its vulnerability. The room seemed to spin around you and yet, you clenched your jaw and forced yourself to maintain an unmoved facade. No. You wouldn't sink into melancholia. Gathering all your willpower, you chased away the panic that crept within you and felt a rush of anger toward Luca for daring to reopen an old wound you tried to heal every day of your life since you left France. And with anger came the end of your self-control.

To hell with Tommy's plan, you could put an end to this exhausting vendetta yourself by killing the infamous Luca Changretta right here, right now.

Guided by your murderous nature, you started to focus on his heartbeat as soon as you regained control of the dance, forcing him to slow down the pace. In a thorough study of his pulse, you could clearly hear the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat resounding in his chest, and even counted how many times it beat in one minute. And the more you listened to it, the more music faded away in the background.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Killing him would be a piece of cake considering the horrific magic that was coursing through your veins, the magic of blood and flesh. All you would have to do was accelerate his pulse until it became too much for his body to bear. In a minute, Luca would drop to the ground, limp and dead. No blood, no fight, just the sudden and inevitable consequences of a heart attack. Quite different from the gruesome and slow death you had wished to inflict upon Tommy the day he had crossed the line.

"You're a great dancer, Miss Shelby." The mobster stated, having no choice but to follow your slower pace. Now you were the one leading the dance, "Did your husband teach you? I must admit that I have all the trouble of the world imagining Arthur Shelby being good at waltzing." He had already trouble imagining how the most rabid of these Gypsy bastards could have pulled you, to be honest. His tastes regarding women might not encompass you but, God, he thought that your place wasn't beside a man like Arthur Shelby since you could easily be a trophy wife for a classy and far more powerful criminal. Or some blue blood, but these were the same except the latter legally robbed people.

"Arthur is far better at dancing than what he seems but it wasn't him who taught me." Your reply was sharper than intended.

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

"So you've been married before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement for the mafioso had easily decypher your micro-expressions despite your best efforts to hide them.

"Engaged. We didn't make it to the actual wedding."

Kill him. Kill him now.

The fingers that were resting on his shoulder dug deeper into his jacket as you channeled the gift your mother had passed you the day of your birth. It could have gone unnoticed if you hadn't paid attention but Luca's eyebrows slightly frowned, not understanding why his heart had started racing like that all of sudden.

"That's a shame. And how does one lose a woman like you? If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee." Luca grinned, his charming voice steady but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed the building pain he was feeling in his chest. Men were all the same: too much ego to show that they were in distress.

"Well, that's how he lost a woman like me." No matter the exact nature of the impact your words had on him it did trigger something within his soul. On top of a literal ache in his heart, his wedding ring became suddenly heavier. In the dance's rhythmic embrace, your witchcraft went on with poisoning Luca's very core. Yet, as the enchantment unfolded, an unforeseen consequence took hold. The more you delved into your mystical powers, the more the mobster's pain echoed within your own body in an unexpected symbiosis. Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly.

The baby.

You backed up from Luca with a movement so quick it looked like you had touched hot-red metal, hence putting an abrupt end to the dance. A discreet growl fell from the man's lips for when the physical contact broke his heart resumed to a normal pace and the pain mysteriously disappeared. As well as yours.

"Enough fun for tonight." You said with hast, and Luca hadn't the quick thinking to keep you from doing so — the odd and unpredictable behavior of his heart was too concerning for him to carry on with this odd meeting.

"Hm. Yeah, don't forget about our deal." He replied, smoothing the fold of his tailored suit before slowly and discreetly pressing the left side of his chest with the palm of his hand.

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me." You spat one last taunt with the most polite smile you could make before turning your heels and leaving this damn room.

What the hell had just happened?

According to Tommy, everything went perfectly. Satisfied with the outcome of your mission — and genuinely surprised you hadn't fucked up everything by your rebellious attitude or just for the sheer satisfaction of getting under his skin —, the lead pack dog of the Peaky Blinders went on with the Vendetta. Actually, the one who fucked up the whole plan hadn't been you, but rather Tommy himself following the failure of his surprise attack against Luca. He might have killed a few Italians in the process, but his initial target was still alive and in very good health conditions. A flash of anger and frustration coursed through your body when he told the family about it: here you were back to the start, with Luca not willing to give you a second chance and being more enraged than he already was when he came to England. None of it would have happened if you had listened to your instincts and killed him yourself. Served you right for trusting Tommy's plan for once. And for being reluctant to use the monstrous magic nature gave you. But there had also been... Something else. That weird and unplanned pain in your belly when you had used your magic. With all of this, the cherry on the top was probably Tommy's decision to carry on with today's boxing fight despite it being an obviously awful idea but of course, no one listened to you. Why would they? Tommy always knew better. Tommy always won. Tommy this. Tommy that.

You sighed loudly as you walked through the empty corridor, the cacophony of the crowd turning into a hushed noise when you reached the huge squared mirror that was hanging from the wall. There were so many people gathered in the building that accessing the bathroom would have taken both your precious time and your thin tolerance to social events. That was why you decided to look for a mirror or a window further away to add a few late touches to your makeup as well as to rearrange your hair. You had just finished putting another layer of mascara on your Bambi lashes and grabbed your lip gloss when a gravelly and familiar voice resounded in the hallway.

“I went looking for you.” The voice made you instantly relax, its baritone lilt holding the unique power of blowing your troubles away, both the past and the present ones. With one small yet graceful spin, you turned around to meet Arthur’s slim silhouette that was standing in the doorway. His sharp face, usually displaying a strict look, soon turned soft at the sight of you about to apply gloss on your tantalizing lips, “I thought you’d be in here.”

"And you thought right." You replied with an enamored smile. Arthur was quite delighted by the boxing fight, so there was no need to impede his joy with your concerns. Moreover, he was surely the only thing that kept you anchored during this confusing and stressful period.

The gangster approached you with slow steps and his steel blue eyes shone brighter the more he closed the distance between you and him. “I knew it, always seeking quiet places before a party to doll you up and take a deep breath...” He concluded, visibly proud to display his infinite knowledge about his beloved wife, which made you melt. Then, he stopped right in front of you, "Got a lil' something for me angel." Arthur didn't leave you the time to wonder what it was all about for one of his large hands slipped from behind his back and pulled a white Azalea from it, “Look what I’ve found. Almost as beautiful as you, eh?”  The way his face enlightened with the happiest and most genuine smile ever was something you never got bored of. Quite the contrary, it breathed life back into you each time. The ice of your eyes melted at such an endearing gift, turning your frozen traits into a child-like expression with your plump lips forming a silent ‘o’.

“For me? Really? Arthur, you shouldn't have!” You said with an excited but still quieter voice than his booming one. You couldn't believe he found the time to look for you in the middle of tonight's chaos.

"I wanted you to keep a little something with you in case you start panicking eh." He purred, low and gruff voice making his chest rumble. "Are you sure ya don't want me to stay with you?" You preyed the flower from his rough fingers delicately, actively trying not to break its fragile petals, and slipped it in your long silvery mane under your Arthur's tender gaze — he couldn’t help but smirk, enthralled by your beauty just like the first time he had met you, three years ago.

"We already talked about it. Go have fun alright? I'll stay with the women. Moreover, I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his." You lift yourself on your tip toes to press a kiss on Arthur's jaw. His eyes half-closed at the silky sensation of your lips against his face.

"A very clever move that is. D'ya like the flower? The florist helped me, bet she took pity on me 'cos I looked very lost but she just made me even more confused with all the info she was dumping ay."

A sincere chuckle escaped from your throat at the thought of the lanky and rude gangster standing in the middle of a flower shop with a confused look on his face. Yup, it definitely sounded like something Arthur would do. “So how did you choose the Azalea?” You pondered with innocent curiosity.

“Well, I don't know jackshit about that flower language stuff. I only know roses and you hate ‘em.” He admitted with a smile, cupping your face with his two hands to lay a peck on your nose.  As trivial as this detail was he still remembered it and the mix of attention paired with the significance behind your loathing for roses made you swell with love for him. It came even more surprising considering that you only told him about your dislike for roses once during one of the nightly walks you took around the church days after your first encounter.  "So I just picked the one that made me think about ya the most, love." He admitted, his hands leaving your face to grip you by the hips bluntly as he peppered you with kisses. Another chuckle fell from your mouth at the tickle of his mustache against your skin.

"No, no, you'll ruin my makeup!" You playfully exclaimed. Trying to flee from his mouth, you tilted your head to the side and gave his stubbled cheek a gentle bite.

“Hey! I bring ye a flower and you thank me with a bite? Ye feral little thing!”

You gave him a second one without waiting for him to finish his sentence, "You're the one to blame. You’re so cute I just want to nibble you.” You replied, completely obliterating the remote noise as well as all the concerns you have been mulling over these past few days. Instead of anxiety, you were now possessed by joy and cuteness aggression, “I swear you look stupidly handsome.” You added with a pout, the target of your small bites shifting from his cheek to his sharp jaw. Arthur hummed, his lips sewn shut in a peaceful smile — he didn't even bother to flee from your teeth, "Alright, go find Tommy before I tear your suit apart."

"Wouldn't mind that, little one." His voice became raspier with anticipation. It seemed like your suggestion had already planted the seed of desire in his mind, for he already started pawing at your body. Nevertheless, your hands caught his wrists to keep him from doing so.

"No, no, no. My makeup is perfect and my dress too expensive for you to ruin it now." You reminded him with a soft laugh.

"Fuck me." The gangster complained but still obliged, keeping his hands to himself. However, the light mood was soon eroded by the question he didn't dare to ask you earlier. Caught in the weight of his demand, his smile dropped a little, "Eeer... Before I leave" He paused, "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

"Hm?"

Arthur let out a long sigh and looked for something inside the pocket of his trousers all the while rambling, "That's a rare occasion tonight. I mean, a good boxing fight with the new Gold lad I coach and an upcoming party that might last all night long y'know. A really great program that is. Exhausting too." His fingers nervously fidgeted with something inside his pocket. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by tense shoulders and furrowed brows. Despite his efforts to appear composed, the strain was palpable, lingering in the air as he gathered all his courage. It was after a long hesitation that he finally took a tiny blue vial out and the simple view of it turned your joyful face into deadly ice again.

"Are you serious?" Your voice, a freezing breeze, cut through the air with a stern cadence, "Are you fucking serious, Arthur William Shelby Jr?" Your grip around the small lip gloss you were holding strengthened so much that the skin of your knuckles whitened.

"Hey, that's okay love." Arthur leaned in close. With gentle eyes that mirrored his sincerity, he spoke softly, trying to convey reassurance in each word as your anger simmered. "I didn't take any of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah. Told ya I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice." The gangster lowered his head just like a terrorizing but gentle mutt would do to show his submission, "I wanted to ask if ya allowed me to take some tonight? Ya told me I could if it remained occasional. Wasn't going to take it in your back, I swear." Wrapping yourself in threatening silence, you stood like a tempest in the quiet aftermath, your posture rigid with the echoes of anger. The storm in your eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a contemplative gaze that softened the hard expression of your seraphic face. As the storm clouds of your fury dispersed, a calm determination settled upon you instead. Arthur bit his lips, mustache twitching as he did so, for time seemed suspended as you collected your thoughts and tried to regain control over your fury. You breathed deep and slow while Arthur held his, awaiting your reply and wondering if your reaction would be born from the storm or from the calm eye at its center.

"Give." You said, your melodious and quiet voice breaking the silence, then you snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly looking to your left and then to your right to make sure no one could interrupt you, you first opened the lipgloss and proceeded to pour the white powder inside your makeup vial. Once this was done, you handed back the empty blue bottle to Arthur and mixed the cocaine with your lipgloss with the help of the small brush, "I have to admit that you're making a great deal of effort. Thank you for asking, I really... Appreciate it." The gangster stood silent and dumbstruck, wondering what the hell you could be doing. "And I did say you could take some snow occasionally." You brought the brush to your lips and carefully applied a great amount of the glistening liquid on your flesh. "So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God." You smooched your lips together and then smiled, a wicked and tantalizing smirk that sent a sudden wave of fever through his whole being. Arthur swallowed, his gaze fixed upon the enticing curve of your lips. In the stillness of the moment, desire stirred within him, a smoldering ember ignited by the mere sight of you mixed with the sinful words you just spoke. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the subtle movements of your mouth, each gesture a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

"I already do." He breathed with a low growl, his fervid passion turning his lean body into a shaky mess. With each passing second, the intensity of his longing grew, consuming him in a fiery embrace. His heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being yearned to bridge the distance between you, to taste the sweet and spice that lingered on your lips. With no more persuading needed, Arthur grabbed your face rough and let his mouth collide with yours, the kiss as brutal as a car crash. His scorching and rapid breath fanned over your skin as he licked your lips from the right corner to the left, the caress of his warm tongue making you moan against his wet flesh. Caught in the fire of desire — and definitely aroused by his carelessness— your trembling hands found rest upon his back, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jacket. An immediate wave of euphoria unfurled in his brain when the cocaine saturated his synapses. As needful moans raised in the corridor, Arthur couldn't tell if that was the drug or you that kickstarted his heart and dilated his pupils, but in any case, he was experiencing the most exquisite high he had ever had.

"Fuck." Arthur grunted with pleasure and gave several other licks until none of your gloss remained, then his tongue forced its way between your lips, not minding whether you had time to catch your breath or not because you were the real drug in the end. His deepest and most maddening addiction. "A fookin" Goddess you are hm."

"Arthur, Tommy's looking for—" Johnny Dog didn't finish his sentence, eyes wide open. " I just interrupted something right?" He finally blurted out, the initial shock of walking into such a steamy scene turning into the most annoying smile ever.

"Yeah, yeah Tommy. Alright." He repeated as he tried to break from the haziness. Arthur grunted, his lips still a few inches away from yours and your erratic breath melting together. Giving him one last peck —far more delicate than what you were doing one minute ago— you mouthed a silent "go" and forced yourself to resist the attraction of the invisible magnet that was inevitably pulling you towards the lanky criminal. "Alright!" Arthur roared when he turned back to you, clasping his hands together and walking to Johnny Dog with a carnivorous grin and dilated pupils. The Lee man slapped the eldest Shelby brother's back and, right before he go, shot you a little wink.

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

"Gonna wait a bit longer before getting your dick wet, boy."

"Shut the fuck up you fookin' cunt ay and let's watch the fight. I'm feeling bloodthirsty eh."

Three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and disgusting scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

"Arthur!"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses drowned in a deafening symphony of tinnitus, a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him, "Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream. A haunting and otherworldly scream which pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The tall Italian man twitching on the ground, choking in his own blood, should have been proud of his successful attack on the eldest Shelby brother. And yet, all he could do was stare at you horrified, his eyes reflecting the terror of his soul.

"D— Diàvulu..." He mouthed, as death came like the most wonderful relief, bringing his sinner soul far away from you, for even in Hell he'd feel safer.

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers

[micharedmc]

I read a super good angsty Chrisker fanfic and it inspired me to write this piece myself. So.... What if Ivory hadn't been evil? Simply a foolish woman with lofty scientific goals who'd fallen in love with someone who forced her transformation and doomed them from the start?

This can really be a hit or miss, but I really wanted to write a piece similar for these two. I did consider doing an angst piece where I wife-swapped (Molly/Wesker and Ivory/Rebecca) because Ivory at her base is evil and it would have suited Molly more to be the 'doomed lovers' type but I didn't think yall would like it so I just switched Ivory as she was. Anyway.... hope you enjoy? TW (Idk in case yall need one): Suicidal ideations, angst, talk of violent thoughts, talks of death.

"I truly hate you, for everything you've done. To me, to our old team, to Chris. To Jill. To Molly. To everyone. But I hate the most that you somehow made me love you, despite the shit you've pulled." Albert pulled his gaze away from the paper he was reading at the kitchen table to his wife, her exhausted figure leaning against the doorframe of the cabin's kitchenette. Ivory's hair was tangled and messy and the circles beneath her eyes were dark and prominent, a sign she'd slept restlessly again. A cycle that hadn't ended since they'd hidden away here six years ago.

It was winter outside so she was all wrapped up, she had to be or she'd die. And that was his fault. In his desperation to be a God, he wanted her to ascend with him, so he'd coerced her to inject herself with her own virus. She'd spent weeks in physical and psychological pain, her body mutating and changing too fast for her system to prepare her for it all. She did it all for him and a part of him enjoyed it so, even as it threatened her life. "I know." was the simple reply he gave, his tone cool and uncaring. He could not feel sympathy for things he truly was not sorry for. He was arrogant and selfish and even after he'd failed to achieve Godhood, he was not going to let his wife escape him. She was his and had always been since they'd met. She was all he had left, an extension of humanity, even though he'd forced her to rid herself of her own. The scars trailing the sides of her mouth and her golden, slit-pupil eyes were a reminder of what he did. Those eyes, once vibrant before she'd found out the true extent of his goals, were now dulled to a disappointing yellow. That smile he'd genuinely fell in love with rarely ever graced her lips, for all that her scars made her look happy. But she wasn't happy, even though she'd willingly let him snatch her away to hide, even though she'd slid the gold wedding band onto her finger that he'd sprung onto her 3 seasons ago. "You took everything I had and used it for yourself." "I did." "I dream of drowning, of killing you, killing myself. I dream of the faces of those I've lost, betrayed, all because of us. Of you. I used to be normal! I hate you!" "I love you." ".....I hate that I love you too." Cold, pale, slender and scarred hands encircled his waist, twisting around as she knelt by the chair he sat in, resting her head on his lap. "You're all I have. No matter how much I hate, it's useless. It has nowhere to go. The love drowns it out and I feel like I'm a monster for giving into everything you demanded of me. Everything you still demand of me. I've felt like dying but I know I can't." Wesker's hands caressed her head, her inky locks, her face, and all he could do was smile. He spoke only his truth. "You're mine and I am yours. We always circle back to one another, as fate would have it. Had I achieved Godhood, I'd drag you there with me. I will never allow you to die... not unless it is by my own hands." A sigh escaped her lips. "You ruined me, truly. I couldn't have it any other way now."

Idk this could be shit, could be cool, the Chrisker fanfic I read that inspired this piece is fucking soooo good but so angsty it made me feel miserable and amazed.

The 'Doomed Lovers' trope is a new weakness of mine apparently. Still, I'd have felt like this would've fit Molly better (but she has Rebecca and have you SEEN that woman? SHE'S PURE AND PRECIOUS). Molly's character would've been better for this because a part of her truly can be apathetic. If she loved someone strongly enough, she'd have given in to them, submitted to their wishes and will, even if she hated it. Still, end result is a different Ivory. An AU if you will. I still love my evil bitch though so she remains an evil bitch. Slayyyy Ivory

[gretahayes]

☕ + favourite dc heroes! drop your list bestie <33 and tell me why and what you think of them <3333

Okay SO this took me a while to write but in no particular order, and definitely non-exhaustive

Nightwing!!! He's my boy. Absolutely unhinged. So kind. Love him! Could on about him for hours

The Flash (SPECIFICALLY Wally’s Flash though, because look. LOOK. I love Barry. And he's an amazing Flash. You can tell he was created a while ago, is all I'm saying.) because like he's so fascinating and such a complex character. He fully believes in his capabilities and is an asshole about it sometimes because he believes he worked for the mantle and others (cough cough Kyle) were just handed it. He also believes Barry was a better Flash than him and he isn't doing the mantle justice. Like...he's such a dumbass but his life is as stable as a superhero's can be, with the job he loves and his lovely wife, twins, the unborn baby, a nice house, and a family he adores and adores him back. Disaster of a man.

Whatever alias Tim is going by at at given point. He's my little guy I love him <333

Literally anyone in YJ now that I'm thinking about it. They're all so blorbo shaped...dumb teenagers with the world on their shoulders

This sounds like such a fucking cop-out, but Robin. Everyone to ever wear the mantle in main continuity (IGNORING Carrie and Jarro. I dislike Jarro for very petty personal reasons that have nothing to do with his merit as a character and Carrie is just...there to me)

Wonder Woman! I love Diana, she's such a strong, brave, kind, and determined character and genuinely amazing. Nubia though 👀 I need to pick up one of her comics sometimes because she looks amazing and she's black like me?? Gotta check her out soon.

Tbh, Wonder Girl, Cassie and Donna both. Do they have much of a canon relationship? No idea. They're sisters to me though <3

Batgirl!! Esp the main three; Babs, Cass and Steph. I just feel they each made Batgirl their own and embodied the different aspects of it so well while keeping the core things the same; Kindness, Bravery, Resilience. (Though Babs growing into Oracle is just as important to me as Dick growing into Nightwing)

Starfire, she's kind and complex and sweet and brave and gorgeous and also completely down for murder at any given opportunity, which is iconic of her.

I would say Roy and most of his aliases, but like there's been so much stuff done to his character that I can't pin one down to say it's my favorite. Him being part of the fab five generation with little Lian is essential to me though

(ask game)

[brainwashedsmogbreathingprincess]

Honestly, I've been following the show for a couple years and I was never into the comics so I went in blind (which is completely impossible now because invincible fans need to let you know everything that happens in the comics on every platform but this ain't about that) my reaction to race swaps is always "well who gives an f" but the choices of who this show decides to choose are so deliberate.

They made Debbie Korean and that would be fine if they ever really touched on it in anyway but they didn't it just seemed to be a way for them to tick the diversity box of having a "POC" main character. And while it's clear they making some character changes with her I don't think they fully considered how "alien coloniser takes an Asian wife and refers to her as a pet looks" and if they go with the them getting back together storyline I'm honestly gonna be a bit disgusted .

Rex looks racially ambiguous (if they've stated his race clearly apologies) and starts the show as a shitty boyfriend who cheats on his white girlfriend with dupli-kate (who isn't race swapped but imma go on about her as well) and is the butt of every joke. He has amazing character growth life finally starts to look up to him then they kill him. His genetic code is then stolen by Robot (while he was alive which is worse) who proceeds to take his name after his death aswell. The show runners never watched Get Out clearly.

Duplikate, an Asian woman, a YOUNG Asian woman (I'm not even sure women's right I think she was a teen) then cheats on rex with immortal, a man who is quite literally ancient. This happens in the comics too but I'm just saying that it's weird and the way they play it off is "hey don't worry, they understand each other deeply because they both get merced constantly. And having clones ages her mentally. Somehow"

And then there's Amber. Amber, Amber, Amber. Because I mean they had to put a black girl in the show it'll make black women feel seen. Of course we can't keep her personality the same, everyone knows black women aren't bubbly and a little oblivious. They're smart, and sassy, and a bitch. Like its just straight up hard to defend as a character like midway through season one and yeah of course she would have got hate if they kept her personality the same but they didn't do it to make her likable, they did it to push this warped image of how they think black women want to be portrayed and that's what's most annoying to me. I will never have the same personality as a white girl, no black woman will that's just not possible we have such different life experiences but why must we always be jaded and sarcastic. As a jaded and sarcastic black girl sometimes I just wanna see some carefree stupidity, someone's who's allowed to be a bit shallow and not constantly have to know everything because it's already exhausting irl.

Also again not completely knowledgeable about the comics but Mark eventually becomes emperor so the colonisation was fine? No I'm not reading the comics to understand that fuck off.

My favourite character in this whole show is Cecil and do you understand how crazy that is. This man would most probably give the Nazis a job if they could stop the viltrumites. He's completely right, I don't wanna have to stand behind that though. But Mark is consistently useless.

I'm so over the fact that they did the disposable black girlfriend thing, I've moved past it, it was a bad decision on the shows part but its fine.

The show: they are in relationships with people closer to their skin tone and happier now

[peterrefur]

The problem is definitely in me, don't look for it in yourself ⸙ Russell Adler x Reader | Part ½

Summary: Russell and his wife have been trying for a baby for several months now, but each time the result is negative. Maybe this time it will work? God please let it work this time. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I'm Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I'm curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!

[Part 2]

𝕀 looked at her back, at the way the material of her shirt lay in my hand, at her tousled hair. I moved my fingers to hit her ass with the next thrust, she moaned into the pillow. I tugged her, drew her body pulling at the brown shirt she is wearing. She's going to have to throw it away because I'm stretching the material too much. 

Her voice echoed through the room, a low rumble joining my panting breaths. Her breathy gasps and moans joined the symphony of our movements. I could feel her body being shaken by her shudders of ecstasy. Neighbours would know what was going on, what we were doing in our room — and I didn't care. 

The only thing I care about now is her. 

I moved her shirt catching most of the material, exposing her back completely, I leaned over and placed my other hand lightly on her head, making her sink into the four pillows beneath her. 

I laughed under my breath, feeling her move her own hips to feel more friction. I straightened my back putting my hands on my hips, watching her move under me, listening to her unintelligible words say to the pillow. She's really warm inside and her juices make it easy for me to go in and out of her. I can feel our juices mixing and dripping onto the blanket beneath us. 

I gripped her hips tightly, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her rear. The skin between my hands was warm, and as I pushed her forward at the hips, I could feel the heat of her sex and the muscles of her thighs against my palms. She moaned in a way that said she was excited, I really paying attention to her every move, to the warmth between her legs, to the warmth of her body under my hands. 

I care about her. 

I care about her body. 

Everything about her is interesting, to me. 

𝕀 can feel her muscles tightening around me, but I don't feel the need to finish. I can be patient for now. It's not over yet. My head snaps back, and I look around. What else could I do to her? I look at the wall in front of me, moving even faster, patting her buttock again. 

"Oh, oh God!" she moaned. 

I grabbed her hair pulling her up. 

"What is it?" I growled more aggressively entering her, in response I received an extended moan from the woman. 

I slapped her ass again, wrapping her hair around my hand. 

"What was that?" I asked. 

"This is amazing~" she muttered. I let go of her hair, causing her to fall back onto the pillows. I leaned over her, holding her head to the mattress. Grabbing her hand, still pressing it against the bed. 

"Yes." I slow down, however entering her more aggressively. "You take that shit!" I hissed through my teeth. I pulled out and then pushed back in, feeling her muscles tighten around my shaft, causing her to gasp. 

My breathing was as ragged as hers, and I was swallowed by the emotion of being inside her again after so long. 

ℍer passage loosened around me, and I pushed back in, wanting to drive myself deeper than ever. I caught her around the waist and started moving more fluidly. My fingers trailed over her soft stomach, down to the place where we were joined. I ran my hand over her stomach to slide lower to her clit. Her whole body trembled as my thumb passed over it and pressed down hard. 

"Exactly fucking that." I mumbled moving inside her and at the same time starting to touch her aggressively. 

"Oh Shit!" I felt the woman tighten around me even more.  

Holding her as if in a embrace I made the woman completely surrender to me, giving herself over to my movements. 

I pulled my hand away from her clit and grabbed her hips, moving her as I pleased. I hit her other buttock with all my strength. 

The impact felt like a detonation of pain through her body. I moved my fingers across her inflamed skin, trying to make the pain pass quickly. 

I was fighting a losing battle, the heat radiated into my palm, making it feel like it was on fire. 

ℍer body was already tense, and I could feel the muscles in the walls of her vagina tighten and spasm. Her back arched and her toes curled as her body stiffened. Her fingers dug into the shredded quilt, and she made a low, throaty sound. Her chest lifted and her fingers began to unfurl. She finished but didn't push me away. 

Her body was still tense, and I could feel her muscles contracting in waves as she let out each short breath through her parted lips. 

"I'm not finished with you!" I said slapping her reddened ass. 

She squealed, moving underneath me. 

I grabbed her around the waist moving inside her with resistance. Moving inside her I moved my hands to her breasts under her shirt to give her the false hope that I would take care of her tits. I rested my hand on the mattress beside her to grab her neck with my right hand and pull her up, forcing her into an uncomfortable position. 

"I said I'm not done. You'll take whatever I give you." my rough voice seemed scary in this situation, even to me. I let go of her neck, and her body fell back. 

"Uh-hum~" she replied, still in her erotic trance, feeling my aggression rising. Placing both hands on her back, I made us almost melt into the mattress. 

Still bent over so I could enter her, she buried her face in the blanket, gripping it with her teeth, trying to give in to the excessive stimulation I am giving. 

𝕀 rested my hands between her, entering her deeper and more willingly rather than quickly and aggressively. Breathing through clenched teeth, I slid into the sounds of her as well as the sounds of our bodies. I bit my lower lip, ran my tongue over my lip and bit down harder feeling my scar. 

The woman moved her hands in search of something, and when she found my hands, she grabbed my forearms, breathing hard between her moans. 

"Fuck!" her voice muffled. I sped up my movements, entering her in short bursts. I looked down at her waving ass, only to look again at her back, shirt horned and creased. She tried to move her legs, but when I felt it, I moved my legs, putting them over hers and blocking her movements. 

"Holy shit!" I feel myself hitting her cervix with each of my next thrusts. 

I feel - if I don't stop. 

God, I hope. 

She turned her head to the side, despite the hair on her face she can see me. 

She looks at me as if trying to read me. As if trying to read my mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

Her moans grew louder and louder with each of my movements. 

"Scream." it was hard to tell whether I was screaming or growling while moving more violently. 

𝕊he cried out and called my name, her voice harsh, strained and ragged in my ear. Her hips bucked against me, and her legs stretched taut. I gave her a few stinging swats on her bottom. Her pussy clenched around my cock as if there was a life at stake. I could feel the muscles in my thighs tightening as I struggled to hold myself there and not plunge into her again and again and again, giving her all I had to give. 

Our eyes locked. I could see the urgency in hers, the way she bit her lip, the way she arched her back, pulling hard on my forearms as if for leverage. 

Her head lurched back, eyes squeezed shut; she was calling out for mercy, but I had none to give. My cock slid in and out of her pussy, each time hitting the end of her. I could feel a bead of sweat roll from my lip to my chin as I continued working myself in and out of her tight cunt. Her walls clenched around me again as she neared another climax. 

Moving my hips, slowly, my cock slid out of her. I pulled out and then pushed back in, making the woman moan and scream. 

𝕀 looked at her. She is panting, gasping for air, her cheeks red. Her eyes were wide, her hair stuck to her forehead and neck from the sweat. 

"More, please." she whispered between heavy breaths. I pulled out of her, my cock glistening with her juice, and slammed my member on her now sensitive pussy. I forcefully turned her onto her back, my cock it ached as it slid between her swollen lips. My hands grasped her legs and held them apart. 

Holding my cock I touched her cunt, to which the woman shifted under me, tightening her legs around my waist. My dick pressed on her swollen lips until it slid inside the entrance to her slick tunnel. I rubbed the head of my dick back and forth until she moaned again. 

"Please," she begged as tears streamed down her face "I can." The tears streamed down her face, stinging her cheeks and washing away her makeup. 

𝕃ooking at her face, I stopped; even though I did not want to stop, I forced myself to take a small break. Breathing hard I looked at her all over, at her body, at her femininity. 

At myself. 

I continue to be hard. Calming my breath, I reach for the bottle of water on the nightstand. 

Taking a few gulps, I put out water in the direction of my beloved. 

"Russ," her voice quiet, but nevertheless still full of feeling "still - nothing?" she asked sadly taking a breath, gently supporting herself on her hands and taking the bottle. 

I smiled sadly completely calming my breathing. I reached for her thighs and stroked her as if seeking rescue, avoiding an answer. 

𝕄oving over, she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her body against mine. I hid my face in her neck drowning in her scent. 

She hugged me tightly and stroked my back. 

Exhaling heavily, I tried to calm the emotions that were building up inside of me, feeling embarrassed that I wasn't able to... 

"Russell, we can go on." she whispers in my ear, kissing my earlobe. She pulled my head away from her neck and kissed my cheek. I took the water bottle and drank more of it. 

Biting my lower lip slowly, I look deeply into her eyes. 

"I will try. I don't know how long it will take, but I will try." 

"Everything is fine." she kissed my lips softly. 

"I'm sorry." I kiss her on the forehead. 

"There is no reason." she sits up, taking my hand. "We may try a different way. Slowly... Maybe I'll be the one to try to ride you?” 

I watch her move away from me, and then I feel her hand on me. I hold her hand, and I look at her, seeing her smile. She strokes my cock as I sit there on the bed, unable to resist the desire to touch her, to kiss her. 

𝕀 could feel her hand on me, and I looked down. The desire in her eyes was clear; she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I put my hand on hers and brought it up to my lips, kissing it gently. I could feel myself getting harder with each kiss, with each stroke of her hand. 

I kissed her lips gently, smiling moving away from her face. "I don't know from where you get so much stamina." 

She smiled and with slow kisses she traveled from my lips to my neck, kissing my shoulders felt like never before. I felt the fall as if I was slowly sinking into a cloud, I didn't notice when, but I was lying in the same stock of pillows where she had just lied. 

I felt her move her hand at the same time as her kisses stopped on my nipples. I opened my squinted eyes and see her erotic smile. As she slowly starts kissing around my nipple and after a while, she breathes on it. 

She moved to the other nipple with a smile, breathing. I could feel the heat in her breath as she moved away and took the nipple in her mouth, sucking. I opened my eyes wider feeling her free hand begin to play with the other one. 

I grabbed her hand; she laughed lightly, biting me more gently again. Sensing my panic, she pulled away, and the air became warmer than it had been a moment ago. I let go of her hand; her smile and her movements made me close my eyes. I had never felt this way before: naturally strong, able to take hold of one of my only sources of comfort. 

I was losing the control - I had never given up. 

What is this woman doing to me? 

"You look so sexy." she said, rubbed my balls with her free hand as she moved her other hand up and down my shaft. I wanted to move, but I was paralyzed by the pleasure she was giving me. "I think we should take this further." she said, and I could feel her hand on my navel, teasing me. 

I struggled to open my eyes, but I couldn't. I was lost in the pleasure she was giving me. 

She moved her hand from my balls to the head of my dick and stroked me slowly. I moaned in response, my head thrown back, my teeth clenched. 

The sensations were overwhelming. 

I can only give myself to her as she always gives herself to me. Swallowing saliva, I bit my lips sinking even further into the mattress. 

𝕎ith my eyes closed; I felt her movements more than normal. Her hands slowly disappeared down my belly and stopped at my thighs. Her warm breath wrapped around me, so when, with her warm breath, she began to put her hand on the tip of me I felt an indefinable warmth. 

Her breath on my cock is warm, and I tilted my head back as she licked the tip with a curious tongue, unsure of what to do, but walking slowly forward, taking control. She kissed it and started moving her fingers up and down along the sensitive underside, as if trying to make me shine. 

Again, she stopped at the tip, her tongue swirling around it. 

I felt my legs trembling and felt the need to cum flowing from deep inside me, yet I felt no strength. I was breathing hard and couldn't speak, I could only feel her lips on my cock and feel her hands travel over my body. 

She moved slowly. 

I felt her tongue move back and forth along the length of my dick, as if she were trying to take me deeper. 

I can't hold on anymore, I'm about to cum. 

I want it, I want it badly. 

I open my eyes and breathe hard. 

"I'm gonna cum!" I say and grab her hand opening my eyes. "Baby! I'm-" she grabs my hand and in a very smooth bluntness sat on top of me completely sinking my manhood into herself. 

𝕀 was immediately assaulted by her warm, wet, tight, velvet-like flesh pussy. I gasped at the sudden sensation and closed my eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden change in position. 

I felt her whole-body trembling as she began to move her hips in a circular motion, her movements getting faster and faster. 

My body is wracked with pleasure as I feel myself getting close to my climax. 

The way she moves and how she makes me feel. Why does changing the pace change so much? Why giving up control to her, makes me feel like I need to... 

I want to cum. 

I have to cum! 

"Baby!" I shout, feeling her move even faster, moving up and down on me. I feel myself moving toward the edge, but... I feel my legs shaking and I try to keep myself under control, but I'm unable. 

She looks at me with a wide smile across her face as she rides me. Her eyes are closed and there are tears on the eyelashes of one eye. The corners of her mouth tug up as if they cannot decide whether to turn upwards or downwards. 

I feel myself cumming. 

I growl as I cum inside her, filling her with my seed. 

Her cunt muscles tighten on the head of my cock, and she clenches her teeth. 

"Oh!" she cries out as she feels me slam into her in a second, shooting ropes of hot cum into her womb. I thrust my hips back against hers and thrust trying to come again to make sure I had cum inside her. 

𝕀 could feel my heart pounding in my chest, I was unable to open my eyes, but I felt her kissing me. I could feel her lips on my neck, and I felt my cock still inside of her. 

She moved, and I took a deep breath, feeling my dick throbbing inside her, my balls tight and aching. 

"My love. My dear. My baby girl. My sweetheart." I say sinking into orgasm. 

"Sweet, sweet Russ." she replies, her voice a whisper. 

I felt my cum pour out of her, slowly running down my balls. I kissed her neck, and she kissed me back, grabbing my cheeks and moving her thumbs over my scar. 

𝔽alling onto our backs still connected we remained in silence, simply enjoying the aftermath of our lovemaking. 

The way she smelled like the woman I love, like a future mother. The feel of her skin against mine, soft and warm. 

We kissed again, our tongues struggling in each other's mouths as we enjoyed each other's taste. 

"I love you." I whispered, knowing it was true. 

She smiles and her cheeks right redder than they were a moment ago. 

"I love you too." she replies kissing the scars on my cheek. 

"I love you more." I say watching her move her head listening to me. 

"I love you less." she says laughing "Since you love me more, I love you less." her laugh like it's not from this earth. It's like listening to an orchestra in a theatre. 

Something beautiful. 

We intertwine our fingers and smile at each other, hoping that our future will go in one direction now. 

[Part 2]