#Advent Month day 22

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Patented Daydream

“Did they blackmail you too?” Malfoy asked, nose lifting in the air. “No good bloody Gryffindors that should’ve been in Slytherin. When I get my hands on the Weasley twins I’ll—” “Blackmail?” Harry’s brows rose. “I’m here because they suckered me into it.” “I’ve always known you were daft, but damn.” Harry was going murder Fred and George and blame it on Ron.

Some tags: Secret Relationship, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Sirius Black Lives, Nerdy Draco, Draco is Good with Business, Joke Products, Harry and Draco Create Products, Smart Draco Malfoy

Ao3

Gifted to @valoale who I hope is feeling better and I hope this can make you smile today.

[brewscoop]

Oh, hoppy day! Get ready for National Beer Day on April 7 with amazing deals from your favorite restaurants and bars. Whether you're into lagers, stouts, or IPAs, these promotions will have you cheering. Discover the best beer deals and exclusive offers in our latest article. Cheers to great beer and even better savings!

[sweetchimera-art]

NEOVEMBER IS HERE

A fanmade* artistic challenge in celebration of Neopets!

This was made for a [Neopets OC server] I run in collaboration with some of the other members but I was told people on Tumblr might enjoy this too! *Not associated with Neopets or TNT. This is unofficial stuff.

For Neovember, enjoy 30 prompts to inspire you to draw something Neopets related daily through the month of November.

There's a mix of prompts and adjectives to choose from to balance options for people who like more or less guidance for challenges like this. You can choose to do one, do both, do neither, or combine 'em. Engage with this art challenge on your own terms and at your own pace. These prompts are intentionally open ended.

See the Read More for all the prompts! Happy Neopetting!

NEOVEMBER PROMPTS

⭐ Week 1

Day 1

Prompt: Your favorite Neopet species and color Adjective: Sleeping

Day 2

Prompt: Redesign your least favorite Neopet species Adjective: Omelette

Day 3

Prompt: Your favorite Petpet or Petpetpet Adjective: Awakening

Day 4

Prompt: Your Neopet as their Petpet or Petpetpet equivalent Adjective: Carnival

Day 5

Prompt: Design a new cursed Chia color Adjective: Wheel

Day 6

Prompt: Design a Paintbrush idea that you would love for TNT to implement Adjective: Running

Day 7

Prompt: An underrated pet color Adjective: Hunting

⭐⭐ Week 2

Day 8

Prompt: Your favorite site or gallery collection item(s) Adjective: Plushie

Day 9

Prompt: An item you wish was wearable Adjective: Fashion

Day 10

Prompt: Your favorite game trophy Adjective: Castle

Day 11

Prompt: Highlight a favorite Customization wearable Adjective: Relaxing

Day 12

Prompt: Your pet's favorite food and drink items or those chosen as monthly freebies Adjective: Eating

Day 13

Prompt: Fashion Fever: What outfit would your pet choose from this Flash game? Adjective: Woods

Day 14

Prompt: Your OC as a shopkeeper. What do they sell? Adjective: Jelly

⭐⭐⭐ Week 3

Day 15

Prompt: Your favorite site NPC Adjective: 8-Bit

Day 16

Prompt: Your favorite Altador Cup team (or player) OR Draw a site NPC you have a rivalry with Adjective: Swimming

Day 17

Prompt: A character from any plot (Ex: Tale of Woe, The Void Within, Faerie's Ruin etc.) Adjective: Faerie

Day 18

Prompt: A character from any site event (Ex: Charity Corner, Festival of Neggs, Daily Dare, etc.) Adjective: Mutant

Day 19

Prompt: Your favorite Faerie Adjective: Hiding

Day 20

Prompt: Your favorite site villain Adjective: Gross

Day 21

Prompt: Your favorite Cheat! player or a character from any Flash game Adjective: Gathering

⭐⭐ Week 4⭐⭐

Day 22

Prompt: Your average experience in the Battledome Adjective: Fuzzle

Day 23

Prompt: Your pet's average stay in the Neolodge Adjective: Stamp

Day 24

Prompt: Your favorite Flash Game Adjective: Space

Day 25

Prompt: Your pet's means of celebrating their (or your) favorite site holiday or event (Ex: Advent Calendar, Charity Corner, Festival of Neggs, etc.) Adjective: Collecting

Day 26

Prompt: Your favorite Neopets Land Adjective: Potion

Day 27

Prompt: Your last random event Adjective: Storing

Day 28

Prompt: SCRUNT. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Adjective: Battle

⭐⭐ Home Stretch ⭐⭐⭐

Day 29

Prompt: Use a style or medium you don't usually attempt Adjective: Pirate

Day 30

Prompt: Your pet or OC in the Neopets Style Adjective: Celebrating

[mcytblrsource]

MONTHLY MCYTBLR RECAP: SEPTEMBER 2024

CHECK PERIODICALLY FOR UPDATES!

REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED!

EVENTS:

Jun 1-Sep 30: MCYT Omegaverse Month (18+) hosted by @mcyt-month-of-omegaverse

Aug 4-Sep 21: QSMP Month(s) hosted by @qsmp-month

Sep 1-30: Your Cubito, Your Culture hosted by @yourcubitoyourculture

Sep 1-Sep 30: Sausage September hosted by @rhapsoddity

Sep 16: Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Places Month hosted by @sixteenth-day-event

ZINES & MAPS:

Sep 7: The Hermitcraft Season 9 Zine releases @hermitseasonzine

Sep 14: The Hermit Arcana releases @the-hermit-arcana

Sep 15: The QSMP Story - Animation Collab releases

UPCOMING EVENTS FOR OCTOBER:

Sep 22-Oct 5: MCYT Non-POV hosted by @mcyt-nonpovs

Oct 1-Oct 31: ImpSkizzTober hosted by @iridium-bookandquill

Oct 1-Oct 31: [There are no real deadlines] QSMP Halloween Fanworks Event hosted by @atthebell

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Oct 1-Oct 31: MCYT Femslash: Vampires vs Werewolves hosted by @mcyt-femslash

Oct 1-Oct 31: Pisstober/DeathFamtober hosted by @pepper-mintzyy

Oct 6-Oct 12: MCYT Aro Week hosted by @mcyt-aro-week

Oct 6-Nov 2: Weekly Hermitober + Life Series hosted by @ink-ghoul

Oct 13-Oct 22: 7 Holy Nights of Jeremy (Smallishbeans Week) hosted by @risibledeer

Oct 16: Sixteenth Day Event: Limbo Month hosted by @sixteenth-day-event

Oct 20-26: Spiderbit/Guapduo Fluff or Fright hosted by @atthebell

Oct 21-27: Scarian Autumn Smooch Fest hosted by @scarian-smooch-fest

Oct 25-31: HideDuo Trick or Treat Week hosted by @iridescentpull

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---

MCYT Advent 2024: @mcytadventevent Oct 20-27

Technoblade Cookbook - ARTISTS AND WRITERS: @technobladecookbook Oct 20-31

SMPSona Gift Exchange: @smpsona-gift-exchange Oct 20-Nov 20

MCYTBLR Holiday Exchange: @mcytblrholidayexchange Nov 4-Nov 17

[holylulusworld]

Peacock

Summary: It's your birthday and you end up eating alone.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: angst, trust issues, abandonment, Ransom being a douche, unrequited feelings, being lonely during birthday/Christmas, having the blues,

A/N: This is the alternative version of Dinner for one. I decided to turn it into a story too but with a different ending.

Written for: Winter Break Advent: Day 22 – Quote: "We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go."

“Anything else, sweetie,” the elderly waitress at your favorite café asks. Her name is Dolores, and she’s always kind. She knows it’s your birthday and brought you a cupcake with a burning candle for free. “Happy birthday.”

She watches you glance at the cupcake. You sniffle and try not to cry. This stranger showed more interest in you and your birthday than anyone else in your life.

“Thank you,” is all you get out. You blow the candle out, wishing for nothing but to not feel the aching in your chest any longer. “That’s so kind of you.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetie. You’re my best and favorite customer,” she smiles and refills your cup. “Chamomile, your favorite.”

“Again, thank you,” you fake a smile. She’s so kind, and you don’t want to be ungrateful. “This made my day.”

“I’ll bring you your order later. Eat the cupcake and remember, not all days are bad. One day the sun will shine for all of us again.”

Damn her, she read you like a book. “I guess,” you drop your eyes and look at the cupcake again. “It just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It will,” she insists and walks off, whistling a tune.

“Maybe—” you swallow thickly when the man you had hoped to never see again waltzes into the café, smirking like nothing has changed. He holds the door open for two girls, and two of his buddies. “Why?”

This can’t be. Today out of all days he had to come here. Your favorite café. Ransom always hated it and now he’s here, on your birthday after he broke your heart.

He straightens his hair and puffs his chest. Showing off his expensive coat and the scarf you bought him for his birthday. He looks like a peacock wanting to impress the ladies. You giggle as he looks stupidly handsome and like an idiot at the same time.

His eyes dart from the table the waitress orders toward your table. For a moment, it looks like he stiffens when his eyes meet yours. He clears his throat, and turns away, acting like he didn’t see you sitting alone at the table.

“Hey, Ransom,” one of his buddies punches his upper arm, “isn’t that the mouse you dated some months ago?” The guy points at your table. You try to ignore him, and the girls looking in your direction.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ransom snaps at his friend, adding another crack to your fragile heart. He can’t even admit that he used to date you. “I don’t date girls like her.”

“Dude, it’s her,” the other man insists. “I remember the pout and her mousish behavior. I bet she must be a bomb in the bedroom, if not you wouldn’t keep a girl like her around.”

“Listen, I don’t know that woman. Can we eat now, or do you want to ask me if I dated half of the people at the café,” Ransom gets louder, making you flinch.

He seems to be embarrassed by his friend’s question. Of course, he’s ashamed of dating you. You’re not one of his wealthy buddies or the spoiled girls hanging on his every word.

You exhale sharply as he continues to explain that he would never date someone like you. He even makes fun of the sweater you’re wearing. Even though he told you he found it cute not so long ago.

Self-cautiously you look down on your body, regretting that you decided to wear your favorite blue sweater with snowflakes today. You try to look away, or not listen to their words, but it’s impossible to not see Ransom staring your way.

“Sweetie, I got you birthday cake,” right when you want to flee out of the café, the waitress returns with three of her colleagues. They start singing Happy Birthday, and the lump in your throat grows.

The guests at the café get up to join the waitresses. They sing Happy Birthday and clap their hands, making things worse for you.

Ransom and his friends get up too, laughing and joking as they pretend to sing with the other people. You’re close to running out of the café and leaving town to forget about this awful birthday.

A few weeks ago, you were in love and believed you’d spend your birthday with Ransom.

 Now you are in the same room, but miles apart.

You’re living in different worlds, and this will never change. He’s got a huge trust fund, and you struggle to make ends meet sometimes. When you met Ransom he knew that you still got to pay back your study loan.

“That’s,” your voice cracks when they place a birthday cake in front of you. “Very nice. I-I’m overwhelmed.”

“I hope you enjoy your cake,” one of the waitresses sing-songs. She smiles, and hands you a fork. “It’s a red velvet cake. Your favorite.”

People sit back down and finally turn their attention toward their lives. You release a shuddery breath as the waitresses and some guests expectantly look at you. “That’s a beautiful cake,” you sniff. “But I already got the cupcake.”

“It’s a gift from one of the customers,” Dolores whispers. “We got instructions to serve you the cake when you come here today.”

“What? I don’t understand. Why would anyone buy a cake for me? I don’t know many people in town.”

“Well sweetie, he must be wealthy,” the waitress from earlier giggles. “This is the most expensive cake and he wanted extras. Just enjoy.”

“I rather not,” you doubt whoever bought the cake wanted to be nice. Gifts always come at a price. And you are not willing to be in anyone’s debt. “Can you take it back? Maybe tell the person who ordered the cake for me they can eat it.”

“Sorry, no returns,” she coos and points at the cake. “Dig in, miss. It’s free and very delicious. Look, the cook used leaf gold for the decoration. You don’t want us to throw it away, right?”

“No.” You hate this. All of it. Someone bought you a cake and expects you to eat it, just like the waitresses. “I’ll try it later.”

“She still got the cupcake. Maybe she can take the cake home,” Dolores jumps in. She offers to put the cake in a box for you to take the cake home. “Right, sweetie. You will take it home.”

Dolores tells the others to go back to work. She gives you a sympathetic look and walks away to get the box.

You shift in your seat and try to focus on the cupcake and your now cold tea. It’s not how you imagined spending your birthday but it’s better than to hide at your apartment and think about Ransom, and your breakup.

Ransom watches you eat the cupcake. He frowns as Dolores puts the cake in a box. You don’t look his way any longer. You finish your cupcake and drink your tea. When you get up to leave, you thank Dolores and reluctantly take the box with the cake.

It takes all of your strength, but you manage to pass Ransom’s table by and not look at him. You exhale sharply as one of his friends calls you mouse and cups his crotch.

“Y/N, open the door!” Ransom is fuming outside of your apartment. “Why did you refuse to eat the cake I ordered for you? I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Like bringing these people to our place? How could you, Ran? How?” You sniffle. “You walked around the café I showed to you like a peacock to impress these women. Why did you come to the café? And why did you buy the cake?”

“Babycakes,” he sighs deeply. “I’m…we…I let their words get to me. I was a fool to believe I could spend a day without you.”

“You laughed about me at the café!”

“Please let me in,” he pleads. “I came to the café to talk to you, knowing you’ll be there. Frankie and the others waited outside. I must’ve talked about this place, and they wanted to try it out. I’m sorry for their behavior.”

“Just go away, and take that cake with you,” you open the door to push the box with cake into his hands. “We are done, just like you said.”

“I said we should take a break to think about our relationship,” he looks at the box in his hands. “I got scared, Y/N. You know that I have commitment issues and trust issues. But…I wanna get better.”

“You want to hurt me even more to make fun of me with your friends,” you sniff. “I’m done with people walking all over me. I won’t have it.”

“Please don’t give up on me, Y/N. I’m not the best boyfriend and I got flaws but…” He shrugs. “We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go.”

“You let me go,” you tap your heart. “You broke my heart and now you stand on my doorstep asking me to take you back?”

“If you can forgive me, I promise to heal your heart…”

You take the cake out of his hands and jerk your head toward the door. “I’ll eat the cake, and maybe, I’ll call you. For now, I want you to leave me alone.”

Tags in reblog.

[cranberrymoons]

winter games

prompt: sports (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 605 rated: t tags: basketball, fluff, eddie enduring jock stobin ✊😔 notes: this one stands alone but is part of the future fic series!

welcome to Day 22 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Eddie has a type, and much to his eternal dismay, his type is jocks – with a heart of gold, though! That’s an important distinction. 

Anyway.

He’d been afraid that this would lead to him marrying into a Turkey Trot family, a bunch of evil sporty people in spandex who wake up at five in the morning on Thanksgiving day to run a 5K in the freezing cold before they’ll allow themselves a slice of pumpkin pie, but luckily for him, this hasn’t turned out to be the case.

Unluckily, he has instead found himself married to someone who takes basketball… so goddamn seriously. 

It’s actually kind of adorable, even if he doesn’t actually know or care what’s happening as he sits back on the couch with Steve’s feet in his lap while he and Robin yell at the screen. 

“I don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing,” Steve says as Eddie takes a swig of his beer and watches impassively at the tiny men in the red jerseys running back and forth on the court. “It’s like he’s never even seen a hoop before.”

“Seriously,” Robin says. She hands over her bag of chips when Steve makes a grab for it. She rips an anxious hand back through her hair where she’s curled in the big squashy armchair near the couch. “Pathetic.”

“They’re still winning though, aren’t they?” Eddie asks. They turn to him with twin exasperated looks, and Eddie widens his eyes. “Indiana. They’re winning.”

“That’s not the point,” Steve says as Robin nods along emphatically. “They should be winning by more.”

Eddie makes a face. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense to you,” Robin says. She rolls her eyes. “Just because –”

But they both devolve into outraged shouts at something that’s just happened in the game, and she doesn’t finish her thought. Steve gets so wound up that his feet shift in Eddie’s lap, heels digging into the tops of his thighs, and Eddie lets out a little grunt of pain. He squeezes Steve’s ankle to get him to move, and Steve gives him a distracted apology as he commiserates with Robin over what is apparently something worth being very upset over.

“Neither of you even went to this school,” he says under his breath, taking another swig of his drink. “Why do you even care?”

Robin glares at him. “How many ear-blasting rock shows have I sat through over the years?”

Eddie sighs. “A bunch.”

“An innumerable number,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “You can put up with one basketball game.”

Steve makes a face. “She kind of has a point.” He rubs a hand over Eddie’s arm where it rests against his legs. “Sorry. Go do a snack run or something if you’re bored. We’re not even to halftime yet.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, not when there are several hours (?) of this in his immediate future. He shifts out from under Steve and collects a few empty plates before starting in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Bring more drinks!” Robin calls after him.

“And some of the Christmas cookies from earlier!” Steve adds, craning his neck around to be heard from his spot on the couch. 

Eddie just rolls his eyes, smiling to himself as he pulls open the fridge and stares into it, considering starting some type of cooking project just to keep himself out of the way of the two-person cheering squad in the living room. 

And – okay, so his type is jocks. Doesn’t mean he actually wants to be around them when they’re doing jock things.

[also on ao3]

[twostepstyless]

Okay here goes…

INTRODUCING… my 2022 Advent Calendar. Starting December 1st enjoy a new piece of writing from me every. single. day. until Christmas Day. I don’t really know why I’m doing this to myself but here we are. I’m trying to get better at posting writing more frequently and this is sort of forcing myself to do that. So join me at 9pm GMT every single day for a new piece. We will have a mix of one-shots, blurbs, concepts (at least one smut piece thrown in for good measure) all with a festive theme to get us through the season. The writings will work whether you read every single day or drop in and out throughout the month, you won’t miss any plot points if you miss a day, they’ll all work as standalone pieces too !! This Advent Calendar masterlist will be updated daily for the new piece and will be pinned at the top of my blog for the duration <3

Door number 1 will be opened Thursday December 1st at 9pm GMT - I suppose I better start typing

My Full Masterlist

* - indicates smut (18+ only please)

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4*

Day 5

Day 6

Day 7

Day 8

Day 9

Day 10*

Day 11

Day 12

Day 13

Day 14

Day 15

Day 16

Day 17

Day 18

Day 19

Day 20

Day 21

Day 22*

Day 23

Day 24

Day 25

***

MERRY CHRISTMAS

***

Read my full Masterlist

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter X

Howlin’ For You

Today

Breasts.

Boobs.

Mammary Glands.

Jugs.

Boobies.

Tits. 

Fiery Biscuits.

Melons.

Baps.

Milkers.

Tatas.

Snuggle Pups.

The ‘girls’

Whatever one called them, here they were. Staring Azriel Night in the face. He could’ve thought of a few more names for them: ‘naughty pillows’, ‘honkers’, ‘knockers’, ‘the rack’...and on and on and on.

This pair was nice as fuck. He couldn’t deny it. 

The generously bosom-y blonde across from him was a beauty named Mor. And this Mor was a stunner. Big brown eyes, hair like molten gold, tits for days, childbearing hips, a nipped waist. 

He’d arrived early, yet she was already here, at a posh, faceless bar in the City. She wanted to go somewhere flashier, but Azriel didn’t want any more of his photos splashed across Daily Mail under the headline ‘Another One for Footie’s Bad Boy?’ so he chose this spot. It was filled with nervous and overly intense finance blokes, with an uneven ratio of 78% dicks to 22% pussy in attendance. If he didn’t know better he’d think this was a gay bar, but it wasn’t. It was a bar where ‘deals were made’ and no one paid attention to him. He was wearing a suit and easily passed for another manic finance bloke. 

Mor was on her third drink already, but she was holding her alcohol well, though Azriel suspected that might have a problem somewhere there. Currently he wasn’t training or playing due to his injury, but he still stuck with sparkling water as was his habit. Those big bazoongas shifted beneath her bright red dress and even a blind man would’ve felt the earth shift when she moved, but Azriel remained…uninterested.

Yes, in theory, she was tempting and attractive in every way. If this was three months ago, he probably would’ve been pounding her on the way back from the bar, giving Dev an eyeful. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

Alas, currently, not only did he not care about her tits whatsoever, he also kept thinking about the cool 20 Day Advent Calendar that he bought for Pinky, where there was a special treat behind every little daily slat. He was unhealthily excited about this Advent Calendar and kept imagining how excited Pink would be about it, and how he and Elain would open it daily to reveal treat-of-the-day. 

No tits were as desirable as the happiness of his dog. Besides, the only tits that were interesting to him, the only tits he wanted to touch and squeeze, the only tits he wanted to lick and bite, were Elain’s. Soft, ample, squishy titties–the only tits worth his time and attention. Whatever Mor was laying down, he sure as hell wasn’t picking up. The only reason he was here anyway, was because his ornery girlfriend demanded it and he was humouring her. A little bar talk with this loud woman was a small price to pay for having Elain in his arms through the night, making her accept him, slowly, but surely fall for him, submit…Yeah, it was worth it, even if he didn’t want to be here.

-

Five Days Ago

“You aren’t even that ill!” Elain protested.

Azriel offered a loud and very fake cough to demonstrate that he was indeed quite ill.

“I beg to differ,” he argued. “Are you really going to send a star athlete all the way to Canary Wharf, in the beginning of December? While he is half-dead from fever and has a broken leg?”

“Oh, now the leg is broken too?” Elain crossed her arms on her chest, shaking her head, looking at him. The good thing was that Pinky decided to take Azriel’s side, and now he sat by his side, working hard at giving Elain the biggest puppy dog eyes in history.

“You two are emotional vampires!” she declared, getting up from the table. 

“We are emotional puppies!” Azriel argued.

“You are a traitor,” Elain hissed at Piglet, who whimpered pathetically.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Azriel offered sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes and told him firmly, “you aren’t sleeping with me”.

“Umm,”

“No, don’t even think about it.”

“Where am I sleeping then?”

“In the guest room,” she said primly,

“Aren’t you planning to sleep with your husband in the same bed?” he queried.

“Yes. But you aren’t my husband.”

“But I will be,” he reminded her.

“Dream on, football boy,” she puffed her cheeks, while Azriel gathered the plates and hobbled with them to the sink. And then, he proceeded to wash the dishes like a good boy. It was silly, because obviously she had a dishwasher, but Azriel wanted to show how he would be a great husband-material, and how much potential he had in that department. 

Elain didn’t say anything, but quietly began putting things away after dinner. Pinky was laying there like a log, watching them closely, monitoring every move. 

Azriel was almost done with the washing up, when he stepped aside and suddenly pulled Elain to him, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Her breath quickened, but she didn't struggle in his hold. He pressed her into the counter and held her within the cage of his arms. 

Elain smelled delightful. A heady mix of jasmine, with light undertones of warm honey and vanilla. Her scent was exactly what she was in life–a flower-lover and a baker. It was a perfect mix of who she was.

Azriel inhaled her deeply and felt her shiver against him. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, savouring the moment. It was quiet, other than some instrumental Christmas music playing on Elain’s phone. So it made sense when Elain’s arms tentatively wrapped around Azriel’s waist and she pulled him a little closer.

“Why are you like that, my matchy?” he whispered.

“How am I?”

“Skittish. Afraid. You shouldn’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

She sighed sadly and whispered, “Others have said the same, and did, in fact, hurt me.”

“I am not ‘others’. I am it. I knew that I was fucked once I started wondering what your lips would taste like, and I am still wondering about that. I’ve been many different things in my life, and not all of them any good, but with you, it’s different.

“You smell like home. You feel like a wife. You act like the mother of my children. There is nothing I can do about that.”

“You fell hard,” she murmured.

“Surprised me too,” he chuckled, “but here we are.”

She took his hand in hers and looked at his scarred skin, absently rubbing the mangled flesh with her thumb. At that, it was Azriel’s turn to squirm a bit. He didn’t like close attention being paid to his hands.

But, all she did was whisper ‘beautiful’ and Azriel didn’t know what to do with that. So he blushed. Because it wasn’t something he expected, and coming from her, he knew that it was the truth. She found his hands beautiful.

She then took him by the hand and gently pulled him behind her, sneaking from under his arm. 

“Gonna put me to bed, beautiful?” he chuckled.

“Don’t push it,” she warned playfully.

They went upstairs, Azriel being on his best behaviour, careful not to spook her and have her send him back down to sleep on the couch.

Elain’s upstairs wasn’t any less luxurious and stylish than the downstairs. The landing had built-in bookshelves and a loveseat and apparently Pinky’s own swanky pad, with a vast doggy bed and various cushions upon which he could ‘relax’ (not that his life was very hard and required much relaxation). In addition, part of the built-ins contained all his outfits, his toys, and bows. He had more clothes than Kim K.

“You are here,” Elain opened the door to one of the bedrooms. It was modern, comfortable, like a world-class hotel room. But impersonal.

“There is an en-suite,” Elain waved her hand to another door.

“And where are you?” Azriel asked immediately.

She gave him a look, but said “at the end of the hall. Should you require anything, knock and let me know.”

Then, after a beat, she added, “And since you sleep in the nude, please don’t forget to cover yourself.”

Azriel smirked and gently cupped the side of her neck, drawing his thumb over the tender skin of her throat.

“So you remembered then?”

Primly, as if they were discussing cottage cheese, she said, “it’s my job. I pride myself in remembering what my clients tell me.”

“Ahhh,” he nodded slowly, with a knowing look on his face. “And for no other reason I am sure, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then, Ms. Archeron,” he pressed his lips to her forehead and gave her a soft, loving kiss, “good night. And if I do need anything, I will remember to cover my massive cock,”

“Ahh,” she gasped and he laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

She pushed at him, pretending to be oh-so scandalised, but there was no fire in her protests.

“Stop kissing me!”

“That’s a hard no from me,” he shrugged. “I only intend to kiss you more.”

“Why are you like this?”

“What? Charming? Sexy? Smart?”

“Yeah, all of the above,” she snorted. “Don’t you ever take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Not really,” he confessed. “Definitely not this time around.”

“Why not?” she asked quietly, looking straight at him.

He licked his lip and then stated simply,

“Because you are mine.”

-

Today

“Three million.”

Azriel was so lost in thought, especially recalling how that night five days ago went, that he didn’t catch anything that Mor was saying to him. Not until he heard ‘three million’.

“Pardon?” he finally asked.

“I think that’s a reasonable sum,” she decided, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“For what?”

“Us!”

“Us? Us what?” his brow furrowed and he had no idea what she was referring to.

“That’s the exchange,” she pushed, leaning across the table towards him, and letting her boobs slide forward, the material of her dress barely containing them. Gosh, she was trying hard.

“Miss Hewn, lay it all out,” he all but snapped at her. “What do you want?”

“It’s what you want,” she corrected him and brought her martini glass to her bright red lips. An espresso martini, no less. What a revolting 80s drink that no self-respecting person would ever touch. But Azriel chose to keep his opinion to himself. Mor wasn’t Elain. He could tease Elain. She’d answer, she’d taunt him back. It would be wonderful. But he didn’t need to worry about Elain–she was a whiskey and lager and gin girl. Proper drinks. Classic. None of this frou-frou nonsense. He had no opinion on Mor because he didn’t give a shit.

“What am I exchanging for three mil?” he queried, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back in his chair.

She mimicked his posture, and said in a firm, bland tone,

“A little birdy told me that if you don’t marry by the time you are thirty, you lose your chance at your inheritance…and I hear it’s over 200 mil. Lord Darling is worth what? About two billion? 10% of his wealth goes to his two adopted sons–you and your brother Cassian. Am I not correct?”

“You are alarmingly well-informed about Lord Darling’s finances,”

She shrugged and said with false innocence in her voice, “all public knowledge, Azriel. And I am a girl who does her research.”

Another one. 

Another girl who was doing her due diligence. But unlike Elain, whose intentions were honourable and even a little naive, Mor seemed much more predatory. Her big eyes gleamed with excitement.

“So, if I am understanding you correctly,” Azriel sipped his sparkling water, wondering how long he had to stay here for, “you want me to pay you three million pounds,”

“Correct,” she nodded.

“For what exactly?”

“To marry you, of course, silly!” she smiled at him and winked.

“Oh…”

“Two years? Three?” she shrugged irreverently and finished her gross martini, while immediately motioning to the waiter for another drink.

The balls on her were…impressive.

If Azriel wasn’t so internally disgusted, he would’ve been awed. 

But he was mostly grossed out.

“We marry, we stay together for a couple of years,” Mor continued easily. “I get my three million. You get your 200 million and then we part amicably. What do Americans call it? Irreconcilable differences. We wouldn’t be able to reconcile our differences too. I’ll even sign a prenup, and won’t ask for any spousal support or any bit of your money,”

“Generous of you,” he said dryly. “So this has been the plan from the beginning, I am guessing?

She shrugged innocently.

“I go where the money is.”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “You know all about how much I make too?”

Her red-tipped fingers gently caressed his hand, but in a condescending sort of way, like she was taming a wild animal.

“Of course I do, darling,” she smiled at him. “Of course, I do. 115 million contract with Arsenal over 5 years. Multiple multi-million pound endorsement contracts with big name companies–Adidas, Apple, Bank of England come to mind. Oh, Smart Water. Oh, oh,” she snapped her fingers, “a deal with that shaving company…You looked good in those adverts. All damp and half-naked, water dripping off of you,”

Azriel barely managed not to roll his eyes.

“How did you get through Elain’s rigorous screening?” he interrupted her litany, speaking frankly and not giving a fuck. He was past being Mr. Nice Guy or even Mr. Pretend to Be a Nice Guy for the Evening. He was going to be the dickhead that he usually was.

Mor laughed lightly and accepted another weird concoction from the waiter–a Lemon Drop, apparently. What was with this woman and her 80s drinks? They weren’t even classics. Just gaudy. 

“Ohhh,” Mor did a sing-song thing with her voice. “Elain…Lady Elain Archeron, the 7th Marchioness of Londonfair, sister to Nesta, the Duchess of Velaris and to Countess Feyre Archeron. 

“See, Azriel, I do my research on everyone. Did you know that the Duke of Velaris petitioned Queen Victoria some time around 1894 to have all the females in his family receive titles. Just the females, the same way the males would. And the titles are passed on to women in that family. Interestingly, the old Queen wasn’t exactly a feminist. In fact, she was sternly opposed to feminism and felt that women should obey and serve their men. Wonder what the Duke had to do to convince her? But whatever he did, apparently worked. 

“The sisters’ mother was the Duchess of Velaris. Nesta was the Marchioness. Elain, a Countess. Feyre, a Viscountess. Once the mother died, the titles shifted to each respective sister. Interesting, isn’t it?

“You know how much they are worth?”

“No,” Azriel snapped. “I don’t, and I don’t care.”

“Pity. It is curious that Lady Elain has this strange profession. Very odd, don’t you think? A matchmaker.”

“She wants to bring happiness to others,” he said. “Love.”

Mor scoffed,

“Love. Yes, love. It’s adorable that you bought into her fantasy.”

“Her track record is impeccable,” he argued roughly.

“Oh,” Mor waved her hand, “I am not arguing, I know she is good at what she does. Poor lonely souls flock to her in hopes for their happily ever after.”

“And you didn’t?” he challenged. Dark, angry, cold rage was rising up in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. His own personal feelings aside, Elain was good. She believed in what she did. She was kind and thoughtful and careful with the feelings of others. She did want people to find their partners, and their happily ever after. Of that, he had no doubt. Therefore, anyone taking advantage of her sincerity and her beliefs made him see red.

“I did flock too,” Mor confirmed, almost chugging her Lemon Drop in one go and motioning for the waiter yet again. Jesus fuck. “Just not for love,” she continued. “It wasn’t exactly difficult to build up a story that Elain wanted to hear. My very unsuccessful first engagement, then a string of men who didn’t turn into anything serious, disappointments and my ‘yearning for love’,” she made air quotes. “The poor silly cow fell for it just like that,” she snapped her fingers. 

At that, Azriel flinched, but Mor didn’t notice it. Instead, she ordered ‘Sex On the Beach’ and he almost died of embarrassment. When the kids on the team told him that they ‘died of cringe’ he now understood what they meant. 

“If you know where to look, you’d find out that Lady Elain abruptly ended her engagement to Lord Nolan a few years back. I figured that he stepped out on her, and it turns out that I was correct. So I played that up to her, telling her that my fiance did the same. She was so easy,” Mor sighed dramatically. “I mean, what was I expecting? This is a woman who dotes on her lame legless pug and,”

“Pardon,” Azriel stood up abruptly and muttered, “I need to go to the loo,”

“Oh, alright then,” Mor nodded. “When you come back, we’ll discuss the details of the arrangement.”

Apparently, in her mind, everything’s been settled already.

Azriel left his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, but he figured it would be a small price to pay to escape. He veered off the path to the toilets and passed by the long, glass-covered bar, where he spotted Dev, who was sipping mineral water. Azriel motioned his head to the driver, and Dev got up promptly, his expression perplexed. His eyes darted from Azriel to Mor’s golden-haired head which loomed over the table.

Azriel came over and grabbed his driver’s arm, quickly ushering him towards the exit.

“Are you doing a runner?” Dev guessed, grinning at the panicked looking Azriel.

“Sure am!”

“Wait, so you pumped and dumped,”

“No pumping,” Azriel quickly, shuddering visibly, “only dumping.”

“You really gonna ghost her like that?”

“Honestly, it’s not my proudest moment, but I am afraid she is going to charge me for leaving. A tenner at least.”

Dev chuckled, and nodded towards Azriel’s lack of jacket,

“You’ll freeze your bollocks off,”

“Small price to pay to escape Miss Golden Arm over there. She really started the conversation with ‘you pay me three million and then I will marry you’.”

“Shit. For real?” 

“Sure am. She is a thirsty one. Not for cock, but for a buck.”

Dev laughed and said, “Alright then, mate, let’s go. I’ll save you.”

Azriel tossed two hundred pounds to the barman and said, “For the lady’s drinks,” he pointed towards Mor. “And make sure she doesn’t drive. She’s had one, or ten, too many.”

By the time he slipped out of the bar, took the lift downstairs and came outside, to the frigid night, Dev was pulling the car around the corner. 

Azriel all but collapsed into the warm cabin and rubbed his hands.

“Told you you’ll freeze,” Dev told him.

“What did you want me to do exactly?”

“Never seen you walk away like that from a woman before,” Dev commented, while he pulled away from the curb.

“Ehhh,” Azriel looked out the window, watching the sleek streets decorated for Christmas. “I wasn’t into it.”

“Uh-uh,” Dev only muttered, with a knowing look on his face. “Where to then? Canary Wharf or Russell Square?”

Azriel shot him a glance in the mirror, and Dev continued lightly, “I wasn’t planning on being done with the evening by,” he glanced at the clock, “7:08 pm. But here we are. So, where are we going? Home? Or where you wanna be?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel demanded.

The driver huffed and snickered. 

“Come on, Az. I’ve known you for 20 years. Known you since we were lads.”

“So?”

“Seen you with all kinds of birds, and here we are tonight, and I am watching you walk away from Miss Busty without a second thought. And I can see you itching to go back to that posh neighbourhood and see your posh lass and her mega posh pug. Tell me I am wrong?”

Azriel rubbed his chin and looked back at the window.

“Russell Square,” was all he said.

Dev smiled widely.

“On my fucking way, lad.”

Because yes, Azriel wanted to be with his woman. And wanted a repeat of the night from five days ago.

-

Five Days Ago

Five nights ago, Azriel did not keep true to his word.

Well, technically, he didn’t promise to stay in his room. He didn’t promise to stop kissing Elain. He didn’t promise anything, other than to cover his cock if he went to her room. And he did. 

He covered his cock.

He wore his boxers, to be precise. 

He settled for the night–or at least for the immediate couple of hours–but as soon as the door closed, he heard scratching and banging, growling and barking. 

“Piglet no!” came Elain’s urgent pleas. “Az is going to sleep. So should you. Go to your bed. Right now!”

Instead, there was snapping and more growling.

“Piglet, no. You had chicken and rice, you took a nice walk, you played with Az, and it’s time to call it a night. Go to bed.”

There was a pause, and then more aggressive banging on the door, which Azriel hoped wasn’t Pinky ramming his head into it. 

“I swear to god, Piglet Pinky Archeron,” Elain exclaimed sternly and Azriel just about fell off the bed, at the sound of the middle name,

Piglet Pinky Archeron Night. Thank you very much.

“I am going to take you to the vet!”

A shocked, horrified whimper was the answer.

That was a hella threat then.

And then Piglet started crying and Azriel couldn't take it anymore. He got out of bed and threw the door open. With that, Piglet in turn threw himself in his arms like the floor was lava. Azriel wrapped his arms around him and whispered, “It’s okay, my boy. It’s okay. I am not going to send you to the vet,” he glanced at Elain, meaning to give her the stink eye, and only to notice her shocked expression.

Oh yeah…he was naked, other than for his underwear. 

“Ummm,” she mumbled…”I…well, I…if he…you know he is quite loud if you want him to sleep in the room,” she rambled on, as her eyes darted here and then, trying to avoid the sight of his naked flesh. 

That’s right, sweetheart. Keep looking. 

“I am dressed,” Azriel pointed out with a smirk.

“I…I,” she huffed, swiping her hand over her brow, “I wouldn’t call this ‘dressed’ Mr. Azriel…”

“Mr. Azriel?” Azriel teased. “What happened to Mr. Night?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Night!” Elain nodded frantically, “that’s what I meant, of course. Naturally. Mr. Azriel.”

He kept staring at her, smiling, while she muttered, “Mr. Night!”

Then he shrugged and told her, “I rather like hearing my name on your lips, beautiful. ‘Azriel’ me all you want. Come on in then,” he jerked his head, inviting her in.

“Come where?” she baulked.

“To my comfy bed, obviously,” he explained like she was a bit stupid. “It’s only nine o'clock. According to the Daily Mail I am a ‘debauched footballer’--so what the fuck am I doing in bed at this hour? It’s fine for Pink, but you and I can spend some quality time together,”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she kept muttering, while he grabbed her hand and tugged her along.

“Don’t worry little virgin,” he assured her, “I’ll leave your virtue intact, if that’s what you’d like,”

“I am not a virgin!” she hissed at him and he laughed and then the three of them piled onto the bed, under his significant bulk and strength.

But first things first…

He got her in bed with him, which was a massive accomplishment. Took two months, but here they were. Now, he needed a minute to wrap his mind around the fact that Elain Archeron, his Elain, was in bed with him. Thankfully, Pinky offered him that opportunity, when he jumped off the bed, screamed excitedly, and then began running frantic circles around the room.

Watching the pug’s antics, Elain laughed and whispered, “major case of the zoomies.”

“For the laziest dog, he sure does pack a lot of energy,” Azriel commented, carefully arranging himself next to her, trying to be inconspicuous, like this was normal for them.

Nothing was normal.

None of this was normal.

Even the fact that Elain was barefoot, and he was seeing her pretty toes for the first time, had Azriel spiralling internally. She was usually formally dressed, and when he did catch her in casual attire, it was strange enough. But Elain barefoot? Her toenails were painted a light pearl colour and he couldn’t stop staring at them. He couldn’t stop staring at the difference in their sizes: at how much bigger he was than her. He was a big man, but her little pale feet seemed almost childish next to his large, beat up, calloused ones. His muscular legs reached almost to the edge of the bed, and he looked rough and wild compared to her, his skin a deep golden brown, tattoos peppering his body here and there, all the sinewy tight muscles bulging and shifting beneath his bruised, scarred, scratched skin. She was soft and creamy, pale and resembled a marshmallow or a cream puff. He resembled a gnarly log. 

He extended his arm and Elain naturally leaned into the crook, laying her head on his shoulder. 

She wore grey pyjama pants with pugs on them (obviously), and a red Arsenal t-shirt, with Azriel’s own number. Like a proper girlfriend should. Though it made his chest warm and everything inside of him squeezed with strange wormy happiness, because this wasn’t the jersey that he gave her. This was a different shirt, which she clearly bought for herself, and now wore to bed.

There was nothing sexy or alluring about her mismatched night outfit, but to Azriel, it was somehow perfect. Undoubtedly, the ensemble that she had on earlier–the shorts, the knee highs, and the jumper–was Pinterest-worthy in its enticing sexiness, and nothing beat half of her ass falling out of those shorts. 

But this was good. Like it should be. 

He rested his chin atop of her head and then she reached across him and tugged a blanket on top of his body.

“You’ll grow cold and will never get better,” she complained.

“Is my naked body messing with your little ladyship sensibilities?” he teased. “What’s it like with Lord Eris? Brace yourself, Sally, and think of England?”

“I hate you so much,” she said flatly, shaking her head with disdain.

“No, matchy. You like me,” he said assertively. 

She tensed a little against him, but he only stroked her shoulder lightly, keeping her in place.

Piglet finally tired out from his zooming and attempted to climb back on the bed, but he couldn’t reach that high up, so he began whimpering frantically, now wanting as much attention as possible and fearing that he was missing out.

Azriell scooped him up with his available hand and placed him at his side.

“You can stay here, but you are not Beyonce, so no one will be entertaining you. Calm down and go to sleep. It’s me and Ellie time.”

Piglet pouted at him, but then burrowed himself in the blanket and quieted down. 

“Try to keep the farting to a minimum,” Azriel warned, but Piglet only snorted at him.

Azriel draped the rest of the blanket over Elain, and then boldly grabbed her hip and hoisted her leg up and over his own.

There was a moment there, where they just looked at each other, their bodies connected, the intimacy of the moment almost stifling.

It was then that Elain asked,

“What do you want, Azriel? From me?”

He looked at her, studying the lovely contours of her face, and after a long pause, said,

“I want everything from you. I want you in the worst way. I need your taste. Your scent. I want to know what your skin would feel next to mine. I want to crawl so deep inside of you, that you won’t be able to extricate yourself from me ever. Not ever. Not with a spoon. Not with an axe. Not with a prayer. Not with a saw. And I want it all tonight. I want it every minute of the day. And I know that I can’t have it. So I yearn and desire, and I suffer, because I cannot have it. I cannot have you.”

“It’s a violent image,” she whispered at last, watching him in awe. “Your love is possessive, and nearly scary.”

“Nearly,” he agreed, “but not quite. I simply didn’t know that I could feel this way about anything. About anyone.”

“Are you going to start spouting poetry?” she smiled and lightly traced her finger over his jaw.

“I usually don’t need to resort to that,” he chuckled. “But if you’d like me to give you a little speech about how you’d bewitched me, body and soul, I could do that.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve read Pride and Prejudice!” she gasped in shock.

Azriel laughed quietly, “Fuck no! But I’ve seen enough gifs from the movie to remember that line.”

“I love that movie,” Elain admitted dreamily.

“Absolutely no surprise there,” Azriel concluded. 

He then pulled her closer and slipped his arm lower, so he could cup her lovely ass, and when he did, she didn’t even fight him. That’s my girl, he thought. 

“What should I get Pinky for Christmas?” he pondered, as he glanced at the sleeping pug.

“I don’t think that he cares all that much,” Elain admitted, while her little finger kept making circles on his skin, travelling from his neck, down to his shoulder and chest, as she traced the lines of his tattoos.

“Come on, of course he does! I do too. What should I get him?”

“Well,” she thought, “the things he likes the most are: empty Amazon envelopes, the padded ones. Socks. You can get him an old shoe. A stick, of course. He likes a good stick. Any kind of hose that he can tear up–pantyhose are his fave. An empty box. And of course the thing that he loves the most in the world is,” then her voice dropped to a whisper and she said into Azriel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “meatloaf.”

Even though Elain was whispering, the magical word still caused Piglet to stir sleepily. He waited for a moment, before falling back asleep.

“See?”

“Wow, he really must love it,” Azriel barely contained himself, stifling his laughter. “I guess I know what we are having for Christmas!”

The next hour and a half were spent in blissful warmth. Azriel took out his phone, and they proceeded to watch a bunch of comedians on Netflix. They laughed at the same jokes, and Azriel found it endearing.

“I think we need to get a tree,” Azriel decided at some point. “I would’ve thought that you’d be completely Christmas-obsessed and everything would be covered in Christmas spirit. Kind of like in ‘Elf’.”

Elain sighed and frowned.

“What?” he pushed, stroking her head.

“I didn’t feel like it this year, I guess,” she said lamely.

“Why?”

“I dunno…”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“I am not feeling festive, I suppose.”

The vague admission didn’t sit right with him and he turned her face up, so he could look at her.

“What happened?”

She bit her lip and sighed,

“I don’t know…I guess I didn’t see myself in this place, under these circumstances, at this stage of my life,”

“What circumstances?”

“Single, I suppose,” she sighed again. “I figured that by 28, I’d be married, maybe even with children. For sure with someone significant in my life. Now I'll be 28 in less than two weeks, and I guess I just broke up with my long-term boyfriend? I am not even certain where we stand with him. And then there is you, and you are all kinds of confusing,”

“I am not confusing,” he argued. “I am your boyfriend. I don’t really care that you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge this yet, but I am. You ain’t single. You are mine. And if you want me to put a ring on your finger on your birthday, I will, if it will make you happy,”

Elain elbowed him harshly and snapped, “Stop talking like that! We barely know each other! We,”

“We know each other plenty. What don’t I know about you and you don’t know about me? Short of an anal probe, you’ve asked me every question imaginable. You know what I like to eat, where I grew up, how I fuck, what I wear, where I live, and I know that you love your pug, and your sisters, and that sometimes you are lonely, and that you love watching couples that you set up end up married and happy, and you’ve been hurt in love, and you love apple crisps and are sweetly rough around the edges despite being a Lady.”

“I don’t know how you…fuck,” she cleared her throat.

“I can certainly show you that right now,” he offered. “I’ve been ready to fuck you since you’ve been eyeing my happy trail the day we decorated for Halloween,”

“WHAT!!!!” she cried out. “I was not!”

“Sure were, baby, sure you were,” he teased and squeezed her ass cheek hard, “you think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t let you watch for as long as you wanted?”

“Oh my god, you are horrible!” she smacked his bare chest. “I wasn’t. It was just there. Your stomach! You were showing it to me,”

“Uh-uh. Anyways. This Christmas will be brilliant, for you and for me. A new start, a new beginning,”

“Beginning of what?” she asked timidly, her expression hopeful and eager. She liked what he was telling her.

“Us, Elain Archeron. Us. Argue all you want, but I ain’t letting you go. And I am taking Pinky to get us a tree!”

He drove the point home by reaching and cupping her breast. He squeezed it tightly, bouncing it within his palm. It didn’t escape him that Elain wasn’t wearing a bra under the t-shirt, and her soft full tits have been rolling around all evening long next to him and driving him crazy. 

She squeaked in surprise, and attempted to throw his hand off, but once he brushed his thumb over her nipple, she stilled and her breathing hitched audibly.

“You want me to show you how I fuck?” he asked quietly, swiping his thumb over the hardening nipple. 

“You promised,” she protested breathlessly. “You said you won’t pressu-,”

“I did,” he nodded. “I did. But let me promise something else now then,”

“What?”

“I will fuck you, Ellie. And you are going to love it. And you’ll ask for more.”

-

When Azriel was 9 years old, he stole an eclair from a bakery. His class was some kind of class trip to the theatre. They were brought to Covent Garden and he walked around there, eyes wide open, his mind blown. He’d never been to a place more exciting, or beautiful, or wealthy. All he knew were hospitals, drab council estates, and his football, which he often played on concrete. He gawked at the shops, all the restaurants and pubs, and the bakeries. Gorgeous displays of wonderful things everywhere. 

Azriel always had quick, sticky fingers, and though he didn’t like thieving, sometimes, it was necessary. Basic necessities were hard to come by, and when he could, he stole–socks and belts, toothpaste, combs, tissues, candy. He made it a point not to steal for no reason, and not get in trouble needlessly, over something trivial. 

That day, they passed by some French sounding bakery–it was all gleaming marble, and outlandish displays of croissants and pastries, cakes and tarts, and rich people drinking coffee and buying bread. Nine quid for a loaf of bread. Outrageous!

But there were two types of eclairs that he couldn’t tear his eyes from. One covered in a chocolate glaze, and another sprinkled with hazelnuts and decorated with cream roses. He couldn’t stop looking at them–two girthy decadent stunners that called his name. All he wanted was to sink his teeth into one. Or both. 

So he went for it. He pinched them. Wasn’t difficult. He was small and no one paid any attention to him. Besides, even if someone did notice him, they’d assume he was here with a parent. It took a minute, tops. In and out, and two eclairs were nestled in a paper bag, and then in his school bag. Later that night, he and Cassian snuck out, and ate the eclairs sitting on the crumbling stoop of a building. 

Up until tonight, Azriel Night had never tasted anything better than those eclairs. Never did anything more sumptuous, sinful and blissfully delicious pass his lips. Never.

Not until he sunk his teeth into Elain’s soft, delicate neck. 

In his defence, the scent of her hair, her body, the mix of honey and jasmine and vanilla made him dream of those delectable pastries. And somehow, his lips found their way to her cheek, and then, to her gorgeous neck. His mouth travelled the length of her throat, placing hungry, hot, desperate kisses on the lightly perfumed, warm skin. 

Elain moved and moaned softly beneath him, and he woke up fully, feeling her luscious breasts splayed beneath his chest, her small, firm hand gripping his bicep sleepily. He wasn’t sure if she was awake or if she was also dreaming. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled, while he kissed over the trembling pulse point, the hot pumping of blood erratic and needy beneath his lips. He licked her vein, before kissing gently below the ear, only to return to the neck, and cover it in more kisses, peppering it with small bites. 

Elain’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in the darkness. 

He wouldn’t have it. Didn’t want any arguments or debates about this. Gripping her chin firmly with his fingers, he turned her head to the side, allowing him all the access he needed to her neck. 

“Shhh,” he shushed her. “Let me have this…”

Her nails dug into his skin, but she didn’t fight him that moment. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply, back arching sexily and a needy little moan escaped her lips. He kissed her deeper, and his hand slipped back to her breast, which he covered with his palm. God she was soft. Soft and smooth and delicious in every way. And as his teeth and lips dug deeper into her skin and he sucked on her mercilessly, while realising that nothing compared to her in any way. She was his. That fluttering little heart beat for him.

He squeezed her breast harder, his fingers closing on the nipple, as he twisted it between his fingers, pinching it hard enough for her to gasp loudly. 

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, “oh god,” because he pulled and pinched her nipple again, causing her to shudder next to him from both pain, but also pleasure. 

Azriel figured that she hadn’t experienced true pleasure in a long time now. He was going to fix that. 

“Enough,” she moaned at last and pushed him away slightly. “Not yet…”

“Okay,” he said quietly and pulled away from her neck. Flipping on his back, he covered his eyes with his forearm and willed himself to calm down. Elain was panting next to him.

When he glanced at her, her hair was a mess, her lips were parted, and she was holding her breast, while a bruise bloomed on her neck.

“Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his face. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She was silent, staring at the ceiling.

“Ellie, I am sorry,” he muttered worriedly, “forgive me. I am sorry, I overestimated my,”

“It felt good,” she said suddenly. 

“Oh. Well, that’s good, right? I thought that I was too,”

“Rough? Yes. But you warned me about that,”

“And…is that okay?”

She thought about it and said, “No one’s ever been like that with me. You are different,”

“I should hope so!”

“You are so heavy,” she commented, “I love your weight. You are solid and so muscular,”

Amused he repeated, “That’s what you like? My weight?”

She pressed her fingers to her neck, “You bit me.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he whispered sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to,”

“I think that you did. You marked me. I can feel the imprint of your teeth.”

Maybe he did mark her. 

He bit her like a savage. Like an animal in heat during mating.

He’d never bit anyone like that before. 

And he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

So he didn’t explain or say anything further. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, parking her curvy ass in the cradle of his hips. It seemed that she waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t, she tucked her hands beneath her cheek and settled in, with him holding her in his arms. 

-

It was Piglet who nosed into Azriel’s neck, huffing and snorting, clawing at him lightly.

It was barely light outside, but that was to be expected. December in London wasn’t exactly full of sunshine and blue skies.

“He needs to go poop,” Elain groaned sleepily, though she made no effort to open her eyes and only snuggled closer to Azriel. 

He smiled and patted her butt, before kissing her head and sitting up.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll take him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised.

“I am sure. Take a break. I’ll pick up his turds, no problem.”

She snorted a laugh and then turned away and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Azriel climbed over her–totally unnecessarily–and made sure to sit on her for a second too, while she screeched and tried to swat him away.

“I thought you loved my weight?” he reminded her with a laugh.

“Not this much!” she yelled, and slapped his thigh. “Ohmygod, you are almost naked!”

“Sure am, baby. Nothing but a thin piece of cotton that’s standing between you and my cock n’ balls.”

“It’s too early for your sex talk,” she complained.

“Sweetness, when we are married, be prepared for some morning sex.”

“It’s especially too early for your marriage talk.”

“Never!”

“Make sure to put a coat and a hat on him,”

Azriel picked Pinky up and muttered under his breath, “You do remember that he is a descendant of wolves?! Now he eats fuckin’ meatloaf and wears a hat to go outside.”

At the word ‘meatloaf’ Piglet howled happily. 

“That’s for Christmas,” Azriel promised him.

Leaving Elain to snooze, Azriel picked up his clothes, and then found a bathroom in the hallway. It was right across from Elain’s bedroom, where he didn’t dare go yet, but he figured that that’s the one she used for herself. When he entered, he was proven correct. It was the prettiest bathroom imaginable–with a gorgeous view outside, no less. As with everything in this house, it was a perfect combination of modern and classic, tiled simply with white tiles, it also had a modern tub, and a glass shower. 

He already imagined their babies splashing in the tub and him fucking Elain in the shower. 

Yeah, he always had a vivid imagination. 

He looked around, snooping through the cupboards and cabinets. Elain had a moderate amount of products for her hair, only a couple of body lotions, which he sniffed, perfume–custom made, which explained her unique scent–period pads and tampons (he noted the brands, so he could buy them for his own place), same for toothpaste (they used the same one) and finally, he opened the medicine cabinet. No prescription drugs. Just a few utilitarian things and that’s about it, other than the flat disc, which he was pretty familiar with. He took it out and opened it. Low dosage birth control pills. He tsked, seeing as Elain wasn’t very careful about taking them. He figured that she probably didn’t care, since her ginger prick wasn’t here, but that also pleased him because she definitely wasn’t fucking anyone right now. 

As he wrestled with Piglet, who was ready for a bath apparently, Azriel considered what to do. He found a pack of toothbrushes, brushed his teeth, noting that he was looking better than yesterday, combed his hair, and then slipped the birth control pills into the backpocket of his joggers. 

No need for these anymore, sweetheart.

Did he feel bad about messing with Elain’s birth control–not really. 

He just stole it. 

At least he didn’t replace the pills with sugar pills, which he briefly considered.

He wasn’t a good man, and he never pretended to be one. 

But he wanted his cum to fall in fertile ground, when the time came for that. Ellie didn’t need any birth control.

-

By the time he and Pinky returned from their walk, Azriel carrying two cups of coffee and a bag with pastries, Elain was up. 

For a moment, he worried that she was going to question him about the pills, but she didn’t say anything, only laughing at Pinky’s ridiculous outfit. It was some kind of knit poncho with a hat attached to it. He looked like an idiot, but Azriel loved it, and so did Elain apparently.

“I love walking with him,” Azriel announced, setting breakfast on the counter. “No one pays attention to me. Everyone is only interested in him. Someone even asked him if I was his new dogwalker!”

Elain burst out laughing, while Piglet began zooming around the first floor and Azriel sat down across from her.

“I have a proposal,” she said at last, lacing her fingers together, as she stared him down.

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back.

“Oh god. I am not in the mood for proposals. Unless you are being a modern woman and asking me to marry you. Then, it’s a yes.”

“Well, no.”

“Figures.”

“But it is connected to marriage.”

He sipped his coffee and then said dejectedly, “What now, beautiful? You better make it good.”

“I promise to go out with you,” she announced grandly, and he laughed.

“Isn’t it a little too late for that? Considering that I am sleeping in your bed now?”

“No. Proper dating,” she insisted. “Like if you are my boyfriend,”

“I am your boyfriend,” he reminded her. 

“Can you listen to me!” she snapped, and he rubbed the back of his neck before finally saying, “fine. What do you want?”

“You agree to go out with two more candidates,”

Shaking his head violently, he said, “no, no, no. No way. I am done with all that.”

“You’ve gone on ONE DATE!!!”

“No,” he corrected. “I’ve gone on three dates, with one person.”

“Exactly!” she did not relent. “With one person. That’s not enough. Nuala is one candidate. You must go on at least two more.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I am happy where I am at–with you.”

“Mr. Night,” she began, but he waved his hand,

“Fuck off with the Mr. Night, beautiful. We are done with all that. And I am done with the matchmaking. I am matched already.”

“Do you take pride in your work?” she asked seriously.

“Obviously.”

“And just because you are friends with someone from an opposing team, would it stop you from scoring against them?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, consider me your opponent.”

“That’s not even remotely the same. Your comparison is absolute shite. You aren’t my opponent. And I am not scoring against you. I wanna score with you.”

“Two people! Is that so much to ask? If it doesn’t work out, then we know that this is real,”

“I already know that this is real. I don’t need to go on dates with random lasses to know that I’d come back to you.”

“What if you are infatuated?”

“I am infatuated. But it’s much more than that. Also, why am I gonna waste time on courting others, when I have work to do with you. You are still all shifty and weird with me.”

“Because you are my client!” she exclaimed with exasperation. “This isn’t something I’ve ever even considered doing! Let alone actually…doing it.

“And I need to know for myself that this is right for us. For me. I have to know that I am not selfishly shortchanging you.”

“You aren’t,” he insisted. “But if I must, I will go out with two more matches. No more,” he warned her sternly. “No more, Elain. I am not kidding,”

“I understand.”

“If it doesn’t work out–which it won’t–I am done and done, and I am dating you. That’s it.”

“But you have to be truthful and sincere about it. Not just say ‘no’ to them because you want to be cross and contradictory,” she added quickly.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“But if they aren’t for me, I will be honest about that too.”

“Fine.”

-

Lady Morrigan Court-Hewn.

30 years old. Socialite. Handbag and jewellery designer. Graduated from St. Andrews with a degree in International Studies. A fencing champion at the university, and an accomplished equestrian. Still rides professionally.

Previously engaged to Lord Vincent Eris Autumn, son of Earl Beron Autumn. Notable previous relationships include Prince Harry, Henry Cavill and a brief fling with Ronaldo.

Hobbies: Car racing (F1), horses, fencing and wine tasting

-

Today

And that’s how Azriel ended up here. 

‘Professional drinker’ was definitely omitted from Mor’s profile. As was, ‘expert gold digger’. 

As Dev drove towards Russell Square, Azriel checked his phone. 

Baron Kier Court-Hewn lost most of his fortune about ten years ago. He bred racing horses, and five of his top steeds needed to be put down due to some disease that they all got. With the death of the horses, the family fortune dwindled. That explained Mor’s ‘research’ into everyone’s finances. It wasn’t surprising that Azriel was primed for the taking.

He wouldn’t have cared about the money thing all that much–it was understandable, everyone wanted money–if she weren’t so vocal about her cunty opinions about Elain, and her calling Pinky ‘lame and legless’.

It’s been a busy week and he was feeling antsy for not having seen Elain and Pinky for four days. He set up the meeting with Mor as soon as Elain got him her information, preferring to get that out of the way. Then he had to travel to two games, and even though he wasn’t playing, he still had to attend. There was a meeting with disadvantaged youths from East London a couple of days ago, and a whole day shooting an advert for Christmas with his team. 

Thankfully, it was almost holiday time.

Once Dev pulled up to the townhouse, Azriel said, “don’t wait up”.

Dev smirked and told him, “I wouldn’t think of it!”

Bracing against the cold, Azriel rushed up the stairs and banged loudly on the door. Pink’s excited barking and scratching was heard on the other side.

“What is it?” came Elain’s faint question. “Piglet, what’s going on?”

Bark-bark.

“Is it daddy?”

Fuck yeah it’s daddy!

The next moment, the door opened and Elain was smiling at him.

“Get dressed, beautiful,” Azriel ordered. “Put a hat on Pinky. We are going tree shopping!”

[hgwellsmykabering]

Bering and Wells Advent Calendar

A bit spontaneous, but this is a fanfic collab event we just came up with today on the discord server, us being @birdofdawning (idea for the fic) @lavendelhummel (advent calendar idea) and myself (collab idea):

24 days of Bering and Wells ficlets, creating a (semi-)cohesive getting together fanfiction! If you want to write for one of the days, sign up in a reblog addition or ask, and your name will be put on the list! You write your ficlet and aim to post it on the corresponding day of December, but as long as it’s posted some time in the month it’s fine. If you can coordinate with the people who post the days before yours, maybe tell us your planned summaries so everyone can adjust accordingly, that’s cool, but if the ficlets don’t fit together perfectly that’s alright, we’re just here to have a fun B&W advent time!

“Never get involved with a roommate!” The fanfic idea is: each day’s title is something Myka tells herself not to do in order to avoid getting involved with Helena, and of course ends up doing anyway.

Update: all fics now linked here!

No minimum wordcount - you can write a drabble as long as it fits the theme!

The setting we came up with on discord is an AU in which Helena and Myka live in the same apartment - less baggage than canon, but just as many feels! More details to it can be found here!

The daily prompts are below the cut. If you have ideas for what else Myka might want to avoid doing but don’t want to write it yourself, feel free to send in the prompt!

As apparently tumblr no longer shows the most recent version of a post when clicking under the readmore of a reblogged post, please check with the original post to see which days haven't been chosen yet!

For the readers: you can find all entries under #BeringWellsAdvent23!

We can still rearrange most of the prompts! If you want for example prompt 4 but don't think you'll finish it in time, tell me another (still free) day with your sign-up.

#1 moving in together - @lavendelhummel is taking on this one

#2 Never have a crush on your flatmate - chosen by @purlturtle

#3 Never be alone with the housemate you have a crush on - Charlie @akittennameddaisy is taking on this one with the idea that Helena tries to cook, creates a chaos in the kitchen and Myka ends up alone with her after all!

#4 Never tell her how much you like her hair - chosen by @viharistenno

#5 Free Space - @lilolilyr is doing ‘stop staring at Helena!’

#6 never let Helena persuade you to watch a movie with her - chosen by @purlturtle: "because forced prolongued proximity in a dark room and WHO EVEN KNOWS what kind of movie Helena might pick!"

#7 Never borrow Helena's clothes - claimed by @jesstrel

#8 Never let Helena wear your clothes - chosen by @lilolilyr "I think seeing Helena in her own clothes might feel even more intimate to Myka than wearing HG's clothes"

#9 Free Space - @purlturtle chose 'don't let her convince you to go to the swimming pool / gym with you'

#10 Never let Helena give you a back rub - by @purlturtle

#11 never watch Helena eat ice-cream (the lip-licking will drive you insane) - chosen by @purlturtle

#12 Don't let Helena read poetry to you - chosen by @sallysetonbw

#13 Don't use her shampoo, that's weird -chosen by @lavendelhummel

#14 never borrow that blanket she keeps on the back of the armchair - chosen by @violetren

#15 Never listen in to Helena when she's on the phone - @purlturtle

#16 never sit right next to her on the couch - chosen by @lilolilyr

#17 Make sure you're not the only one laughing at her obscure jokes - chosen by @thiakerrigan

#18 Never fall in love with your flatmate - chosen by @lilolilyr

#19 Don't let her see you in your pyjamas - @lilolilyr

#20 never go on a road trip together @purlturtle

#21 Free Space @tryingthisfangirlthing

#22 @lavendelhummel Never go to the Christmas market with Helena

#23 Never match your flatmate on a dating site - chosen by @lavendelhummel

#24 Never kiss her on the lips - @lilolilyr

Post your fics to Ao3 in the BeringWellsAdvent collection and/or on tumblr with the hashtag BeringWellsAdvent23! If you want to use a header for example for a tumblr post, you can use this made by @viharistenno and @purlturtle:

Some other ideas to fill the 'Free Space' days with:

- don't let her convince you to go to the swimming pool / gym with you

- don't imagine Helena naked

- don't suggest to cook for her (because Myka would get so caught up in her perfectionism that she'd spiral and feel so bad about what she's setting in front of Helena)

- don’t share a room/bed with Helena

- STOP STARING

- never masturbate to thoughts of your flatmate

- don’t share a drink with Helena

- Never give her a gift or accept a gift from her

- never lend her your car

- Never lend her money again

[bestanimatedmovie]

Welcome to Revenge of the Underrated!

Some of you asked me to put a "haven't watched both" to be more fair to the more unknown movies, but I've seen other tournaments doing this and I think it limits too much who can participate in the polls. So what I decided to do is a double elimination!

What does that mean? That means a movie has to lose twice to be eliminated. In other words, there will be a sorts of losers bracket that'll be part of main bracket. I'm undecided on whether to do this for only one round or the whole bracket, as it would make the tournament very long. Do let me know if you have any opinion about it.

Anyway, Revenge of the Underrated, Round 1:

Miss Hokusai vs Happily N'Ever After

Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children vs Tiger and Bunny: The Rising

Ballerina vs Book Girl

On-Gaku: Our Sound vs Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Eternal The Movie Part 1

Cats don't Dance vs The Flight of Dragons

Dragon Ball Z: Cooler's Revenge vs The Girl Without Hands

The Twelve Tasks of Asterix vs Flatland: The Film

Felidae vs Pokemon the Movie: The Power of Us

An American Tail: Fievel Goes West vs Unico in the Island of Magic

Rock and Rule vs Rock-A-Doodle

The Little Mermaid: Ariel's Beginning vs Freddie as F.R.0.7

The Plague Dogs vs The Magic Riddle

Pokemon Heroes vs The Pebble and the Penguin

Strange Magic vs Sea Prince and the Fire Child

Help! I'm a Fish vs Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs

16.Azur and Asmar: The Prince's Quest vs Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealer

17.Titan A.E. vs Ico, the Brave Horse

18.The Adventures of Mark Twain vs A Troll in Central Park

19.The Case of Hana and Alice vs Once Upon a Forest

20.Underdogs vs Long Way North

21.Mars Needs Moms vs The Twelve Months

22.Phineas and Ferb: The Movie: Candace Against the Universe vs Blinky Bill

23.Robot Carnival vs Revue Starlight: The Movie

24.One Piece: Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island vs Winx Club: The Secret of the Lost Kingdom

25.Ruben Brandt, Collector vs Samurai Jack: The Premiere Movie

26.Lupin III: The First vs Pippi Longstocking

27.The Three Caballeros vs The Legend of Manxmouse

28.Princes and Princesses vs The Snow Queen

29.A Letter to Momo vs Seven Days War

30.The Wild Thornberrys Movie vs The Rabbi's Cat

31.Night on the Galactic Railroad vs The Boy who Wanted to be a Bear

32.The Swan Princess vs Planetarian: Hoshi no Hito

33.Patema Inverted vs Bartok the Magnificent

34.Next Gen vs Padak

35.Asterix: The Mansions of the Gods vs Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland

36.Thumbelina vs Catnapped!

37.Early Man vs Rainbow Magic: Return to Rainspell Island

38.Junk Head vs Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie

39.Charlotte's Web (1973) vs The Princess and the Goblin

40.Shaun the Sheep Movie vs Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius

41. Redline vs Balto

42. The Addams Family vs Inu-Oh

43. Epic vs Mary and the Witch's Flower

44.The Girl Who Leapt Through Time vs Vivo

45.Barbie: Princess Charm School vs Kronk''s New Groove

46.Waking Life vs The Transformers: The Movie

47.Barbie in the Nutcracker vs Barbie as Rapunzel

48.Pokemon: The First Movie - Mewtwo Strikes Back vs Cool World

49.The Land Before Time vs When the Wind Blows

50.The Secret of NIMH vs Summer Wars

51.The Black Cauldron vs All Dogs go to Heaven

52.The Red Turtle vs FernGully: The Last Rainforest

53.Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas vs Ron's Gone Wrong

54.The Boxtrolls vs Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade

55.Arthur Christmas vs One Piece Film Red

56.Barbie of Swan Lake vs The Rescuers Down Under

57.Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole vs Secret of the Wings

58.The Castle of Cagliostro vs Pokemon: The Movie 2000

59.Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust vs Arthur and the Invisibles

60.Tinker Bell vs Barbie as the Island Princess

61.Mind Game vs Tekkonkinkreet

62.The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh vs Dragon Ball Super: Broly

63.Mirai vs Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

64.The Lion King II: Simba's Pride vs Scooby-Doo! and the Cyber Chase

[doctorroseprompts]

Ficmas 2023 is nearly upon us, friends!

If you're new, 31 Days of Ficmas is our annual December theme. It's based on the fanfic advent calendars from days of yore, when authors would write a fic a day based on a holiday or winter themed word.

As with most of our prompts, you are free to use them however you like. You can use the list to write one or more larger projects ahead of time, write a fic a day like the traditionalists, use the words out of order... We simply provide the list and then sit back and enjoy the fic you create.

(There might be some weekly or even daily prompt posts based on the words coming in December. There could possibly an image prompt every here or there over the course of the month as well.)

Feel free to use these for any fandom, but we will only be reblogging fics that are Doctor x Rose.

Without further ado, we present the 7th Annual 31 Days of Ficmas list!

1. Shopping 2. Family 3. Ice Skating 4. Ugly Jumper/Sweater 5. Cheer 6. Cocoa 7. Gifts 8. Lights 9. Biscuits/Cookies 10. Pine 11. Stocking 12. Candy Cane 13. Silver and Gold 14. Season 15. Candles 16. Shiver 17. Traditions 18. Gingerbread 19. All I Want… 20. Wrapping Paper 21. Ornament 22. Blaze 23. Festivus/Friendmas 24. Santa and/or Elves 25. Jolly 26. Unity 27. Love 28. Scarf 29. Snowball 30. Hope 31. Twinkle

Have fun, and Happy Ficmas!

We start reblogging on December 1st. To make sure we see them, don't forget to mention us @doctorroseprompts in your fics and use the tag #31 Days of Ficmas

[donotpush]

Birth Advent Calendar 22 - Day 1

Nikki always knew what she liked.

She always thought that she was some sort of outcast. The things that would make her blood burn and her stomach feel funny weren't the same as the rest of the girls in her friend group wanted.

She didn't like the movie's bad boy or the strong hero. She liked the bad girl, the femme fatale that would get the hero on his knees and make him beg.

Growing up and with the helping hand of the Internet, and many visits to dark and already forgotten forums and sites, she was able to put a name to her tastes: she liked to dominate men. Nikki was a dominatrix in nature.

Chains, leather, handcuffs and latex. That was all she needed to feel fulfilled. Oh, and a man to overpower and humilliate.

Becoming a full-time dominatrix was exactly her idea of ideal life and she got it.

She would dress up in her expensive latex suit, lift the zip in the back and Nikki was gone. Mistress would appear on the stage ready to put on a show.

When she discovered she was pregnant, Nikki didn't even hesitate, not even one second on keeping doing what she loved the most. She saw it as an opportunity to empower, to learn to love and take advantage of this new facet of her own body.

It was scary at first, like everything new, but after a while, she went from despising to loving every single change.

The way her entire body swelled, her belly becoming bigger each month, her breasts growing full with milk, the embodiment of fertility in her aching chest and the new sensitivity over all her body.

And against what she thought, her clients loved it. Men and women, young and old. She even got a whole new bunch of clients.

Some days, however, she regretted her choice of profession.

"Fuck...! Oh my!" Nikki groaned, her back arching as her fingers gripped at the sheets.

Some days, however, she regretted her choice of profession. Today, because her baby was crowning between her legs and she was stuck inside her very expensive latex suit.

In the bedroom, Mistress was in total control of everything. Nobody talked, breathed or screamed without her permission, her position was always on top of the chain. But today, roles were reversed.

It was Mistress who was whimpering on the bed, theet gritted and hands, gripping at the sheets with pained moans.

"Oh, God! Come on!" Nikki whined, clenching her jaw. "Shit!"

She tried to ignore it in the morning as she got ready, it was just some cramps and an aching back. Nothing new. Nothing that would get her to cancel her session with her client today.

She denied how low her belly was hanging as she stared at herself in the mirror. She ignored the way the latex suit seemed to be tighter than ever today, rubbing in the wrong ways against her breasts and her most sensitive areas and everywhere.

God, she even denied how low the baby felt and how much pressure she was feeling. She was so sure that she could totally, absolutely finish the session and just then go to the hospital or something.

And now...

Her hands desperately tried to reach for her back, looking for the zip of the suit to get it out, but all she could focus on was the burning sensation between her legs and all the pressure.

"Ughn... help me!" she screamed through gritted teeth, tilting her head to look at her slave.

Johnathan or Johnny, she couldn't be bothered remembering his name right now, shook his head vigorously and tried to free himself from the cuffs that kept him tied to the pole in the middle of the room.

He really wanted to help his mistress, but he didn't even know where the keys were at!

"Mh-hmph-ph" Johnny grumbled through the gag ball "Hmm!?"

Mistress had left the keys somewhere totally out of his reach, as agreed for the game, but now the only thing Johnny could do was let out desperate sounds, muffled by the gag ball, and whine about the erections on his trousers.

"Ohmygodohmygod" Nikki could feel the head slowly spreading her open.

She was stuck, like a beached whale, literally. She couldn't turn around and all she could think of was pushing, pushing, pushing.

But the suit was so tight, right against her naked skin —because hours ago it was a good idea to go completely naked under the suit, — and it was keeping the head in place. Unable to go anywhere and stuck in that semi-crown.

She knew she should try to get the thing off, but when another contraction took over her, all she could think of doing was pushing.

With a low moan, she gave in to her body's impulses, throwing her head back and pushing.

Johnny let out a high-pitched noise, watching how his mistress squirmed on the bed while he struggled to free himself.

In his pants, his cock twitched at the view.

"Mh-ph, yhm vhmt hmm mlim mhm", the man grumbled through the gag.

Mistress, you look very hot like that was a close translation, but Nikki barely registered his babbling.

With a cry, one of Nikki's hands went down, trying to reach over her gravid belly to feel the bulge growing between her legs. She could barely make it through the contracting mount of flesh, trying and failing miserably to grip at any piece of fabric she could.

It was useless, she thought, but she couldn't help but surrender to the urge to push. She couldn't help but push, even if the head was going nowhere.

"Fu...fuck!" Nikki whimpered, her head falling to her chest as she pushed with another contraction.

For a moment, the head moved, but as soon as it happened, it slid back inside.

Nikki was laying there, with a head half crowning between her legs, her huge belly trapped under all that thick material and her hands unable to do anything.

She breathed, moaning and trying to find a moment of clarity between all that discomfort.

"Ughn! Fuck...!" with gritted teeth, Nikki took a deep breath, letting it go in one big exhale, putting all her energy into trying to get up.

Birth fluids dripped down her legs, soaking the mattress as she managed to sit down, her legs spread wide and her gravid belly hanging between her thighs.

It was uncomfortable, and once again, she had to bite her cheek to ignore the urge to push. There was nowhere the head could go.

Johnny babbled something more, shaking himself like crazy, but Nikki didn't focus on him.

With a groan, she stood up, her knees almost buckling underneath her and her shaky legs. Nikki breathed, almost falling to a squat but giving into a miserable walk towards the full-body mirror on the other side of the room.

With the head crowning between her legs, she had to silence the scream of her body telling her to just squat down and push, because she couldn't.

It seemed like kilometres until she found her reflection staring at her. Nikki turned around to see the back of her suit, guiding her fingers to grip the zip and pulling it down.

As it reached the end, a loud scream escaped Nikki's lips. "It's fucking coming!" she grunted, closing her eyes shut with a gasp.

Nikki moaned as she tried to get the thing off her body, the latex sticking to her skin and God, she needed to push so bad. She didn't realize the moment she managed to rip it out, letting the suit hang from her knees and giving in.

She was pushing. The only moment she realized was when the head popped out of her with a gush, giving her a single moment of relief.

It lasted little because once again she needed to push, her baby eager to be finally able to come out. This time, her knees buckled underneath her and she squatted down, pushing with all her might.

The shoulders came out easily, and the baby didn't give her a moment of peace because the urge to push was coming all at once, not letting Nikki catch a breath.

With another gush, the baby was out. Nikki gasped, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Hmpffhm! Hmph!" on the floor, Johnny grunted.

There was a wet patch in his underwear too.

"Ihms?" He grumbled, probably something like keys.

[foxes-that-run]

Now that we don't talk

In the 2012-2014 timeline our girl went through it in the space a week. It’s like an emotional advent calendar and we get the prizes:

Sunday:  Harry misses his flight because he didn’t have his passport. Keep Driving: “Passports in foot wells”

Monday: New Year’s Eve 2012 – The world’s most public kiss

Tuesday:  New Year’s Day & they leave for the Virgin Islands

Wednesday: Taylor's hair pinned up for Right where you left me

Thursday: (maybe) Maroon's hickie & the wine soaked dress

Friday: Taylor's boat trip Say don’t go and Is it Over now?

Saturday (maybe) From the Dining Table, then Harry goes to Richard Branson’s island …and that’s what you missed on Glee.

Update: Thank you @this-daydream-is-dangerous-13 and their ace detective skills, NTWDT is copyrighted 2014, so updated here, the old post is here.

In the voice memo Taylor says:

Now that we don't talk is one of my favorite songs that was left behind it was so hard to leave it behind but I think we wrote it a little bit towards the end of the process and we couldn't get the production right at the time. I think it's the shortest song I've ever had but I think it packs a punch I think it really goes in for the short amount of time we have I think it makes its point.

The last tracks were between January 2014 (Say don't go) and 19 February 2014 (Style).

The period they didn't talk was a minimum of 3 weeks to the NRG awards, in HYGTG she said 6 months which is June.

For context, Harry was 18 and it appears all he did was post photos in a hot tub. It was a s***ty thing to do, but when the song was finally written they were freshly back together and he wrote Stockholm Syndrome with:

"Who's this man that's holding your hand and talking 'bout your eyes? (Oh-oh-oh) / Used to sing about being free but now he's changed his mind (Oh-oh-oh)"

From then he was then a giggling BF he's adopting kittens and continued to sing about her eyes for another 10 years.

Lyrics [Verse 1] You went to a party I heard from everybody You part the crowd like the Red Sea Don't even get me started Did you get anxious though On the way home? I guess I'll never, ever know Now that we don't talk

She did hear from everybody, it was huge news.

'Did you get anxious on the way home' got me in the feels, in New Years Day she talked of him squeezing her hand three times in the backseat to say it will be OK. This breaks my heart so much to think that song and this are about 1 week.

[Verse 2] You grew your hair long You got new icons And from the outside It looks like you're tryin' lives on I miss the old ways You didn't have to change But I guess I don't have a say Now that we don't talk

2 weeks after Taylor left on a boat, Harry acquired his Butterfly Tattoo on 22 January. A week later they saw each other for the first time on 27th January at the NRG Awards in Paris. The Cannes sunset photos are from the hotel they both stayed in. Part 2 of also within a week:

[Chorus] I call my mom, she said that it was for the best Remind myself, the morе I gave, you'd want me less I cannot bе your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost And what it cost, now that we don't talk

Bless Andrea Swift all she has given this world, most especially for comforting Taylor when 18 year old’s pop stars hang out with billionaires. Everytime I hear this I imagine Andrew saying "put it in a song!"

They later did bury the hatchet People now reports them as friends. They have also sung about their chemistry in relation to that friendship though in Delicate, nice to have a friend and Fine Line. [Verse 3] What do you tell your friends we Shared dinners, long weekends with? Truth is, I can't pretend it's Platonic, it's just ended, so

Harry and Taylor shared (and continued to) share a lot of friends, to me this line is similar to Maroon where she refers to Rubies she gave up, the Junior Jewels shirt refers to her friends as jewels.

Taylor and Harry go on to have a discography just about this very line, can they be friends when they have such great chemistry? I have a list in Glitch

[Outro] I don't have to pretend I like acid rock Or that I'd like to be on a mega yacht With important men who think important thoughts Guess maybe I am better off now that we don't talk And the only way back to my dignity Was to turn into a shrouded mystery Just like I had been when you were chasing me Guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk

Harry has diverse music tastes, but does love Pink Floyd and has a Grateful Dead ring he wears often.

To me the shrouded mystery line is a mystery, Taylor was ending the Red World Tour and later in the year embarked on the most active publicity of her career and 1989 World Tour, but in the moment I guess. She and Harry did not speak for some months, by the end of the year they were saying they were on good terms and based on later songs we know were back together before the end of 2013

[inspofromancientworld]

Archaeological Dating

Babylonian “Astronomical Diary“ mentioning a lunar eclipse on 13 Ulūlū in the 5th year of Darius III [20 September 331 BCE], ten days before the battle of Gaugamela (British Museum, London; tablet BM 36390)

This post won't talk about relationships among archaeologists, but rather how they figure out when things happened. There are several methods they use, as well as dating systems. We'll go through them from the most recent to the farthest back.

With the advent of writing, people began recording things based on the reign of the current monarch and the calendar they used. Most calendars were lunisolar, combining the lunar month with an added month in irregular years to keep the various holidays in the appointed season. That these cultures were in contact with each other, through war and diplomacy, gives us an interlaced system of knowing when these reigns were. This allows us to figure out when things happened that were recorded that include a reference to the current monarch.

By Ángel M. Felicísimo from Mérida, España - Retrato de Julio César, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=91281949

It wasn't until the Julian calendar was implemented in 46 BCE that a definitive calendar that had a 'leap day' every four years and was 365 day year. That Rome came to control a large portion of the old world and traded with the far East, this calendar was helpful in calibrating other calendars to one we have a definitive date on. However the solar year is 11 minutes less than 365.25 days, leaving the calendar to drift one day off 1 day every 400 years. The Gregorian (our current) calendar corrects for this by skipping the leap day every century not divisible evenly by 4 (for example, 1700, 1800, and 1900 did not have leap days, but 2000 did). This lead to 'skipping' eight days in 1582, when it was initially decreed by Pop Gregory (making the 4th of October the 15th). This calendar was not accepted widely, some countries not adopting it until 1923 and some countries still using their own calendars along within their borders.

From the hoard known as the “Bodmer Papyri,” consisting of nine Greek papyrus scrolls, 22 papyrus codices and seven vellum codices in Greek and Coptic.

Other ways we figure out when things were written is the material it was written on and which writing system. Clay tablets, leather scrolls, papyrus codices (books) all give us clues as to a rough time period when a document was written when they're not dated. How letters are formed in particular writing systems also give us a clue to when things were written, for example, paleo-Hebrew resembled Phoenician until about 400 BCE, when the letters became less prong-shaped and more square.

The growth rings of a tree cut horizontally to the ground can be used to date the tree and wooden objects made from it. Ollikainen / iStock / Getty Images

Before writing, we have a few other ways of figuring out when things happened. One of those is carbon 14 dating. Carbon 14 is a type of carbon that has extra neutrons and gradually loses them and becomes carbon 12 (the 'normal' carbon) at a predictable rate. Carbon 14 is produced by an interaction between the solar winds and our atmosphere, similar to how the auroras are produced, so the rate it's produced is a bit variable, but we have found ways to recreate the 'wiggles' (actual scientific term) of its production. Tree rings let us know how much carbon 14 is in the atmosphere in a given year, letting us figure out these wiggles for 12594 years ago. All living things take in Carbon 14 by the act of breathing and eating other things that breathed. This intake stops when they die. Ice cores also give us a rough level of carbon 14, as well. Carbon 14 lets us date things to about 52800 years before the present, though prior to 13000 years ago, it's difficult to give a more exact level of carbon 14 in the atmosphere, which lets us know how much carbon 14 a living creature would take in. For water-dwelling creatures, which take in dissolved carbon 14, we don't have a solid record, so dates for them are approximated.

The right images shows fluorite glowing after being heated on a hotplate. Mauswiesel / CC BY-SA 3.0 / Wikimedia Commons

For things that can't be dated with radiocarbon dating but have been heated (like pottery), thermoluminesence is a method that can be used to date them. When certain minerals are exposed to the sun, they gather that energy into their crystal matrix. When they're heated (like firing pottery), they lose all this energy. With thermoluminesence, these items are exposed to heat (between 400-500°C), we can measure how much energy is given off and compare that to minerals that have never been heated. We can also tell when these these minerals last were in the sun (such as the interior blocks of walls and buildings that haven't been destroyed [think insides of the pyramids, for example]).

Curator Geoffrey Hargreaves inspects core samples from the Greenland ice sheet. They are stored in a freezer at -33F. The cores are vital to understanding changes in atmospheric carbon levels in the past. Roger Ressmeyer/Corbis/VCG / Getty Images

Other methods we have of dating things is figuring out what layers things are in. This gets complicated because things might have been buried in deeper layers, but we can get a rough date for things left in these layers. Decorations on pottery and how it's made also help us figure out when things were made as different civilizations made their pottery differently and decorated it though there were trade networks from very early in history.

When writing dates, archaeologists use a few systems, depending on what they're dating and where they're writing for. BCE and CE refer to 'before the common era' and 'common era', which is an attempt to be more culturally inclusive than BC and AD, even though they're calibrated to the same change over year. BP is 'before present', which is complicated as the present year changes every year. RCYBP and calBP refer to radiocarbon year before present, though the later refers to the calibrated (accounting for wiggles) date. TLYBP refer to dates calculated by thermoluminesence.

Resources:

What Does cal BP Mean? Accounting for Atmospheric Wiggles in Radiocarbon Dating

BP: How Do Archaeologists Count Backward Into the Past? What Do Archaeologists Mean by BP, and Why Do They Do That?

Introduction to dating documents

How Is the Age of an Ancient Manuscript Determined?

[yelenasdiary]

hey, if possible could you make one about the advent calendar with the autistic reader where natasha makes christmas programs with the reader so as not to escape the routine?

☃️ Festive Calendar ☃️

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Autistic! Reader

Summary: Nat helps you enjoy the holidays without any stress. 

Fluff | 0.6K | No Warnings | 

Translations: dorogoy (darling)

AC: I hope you enjoy this, my apologises for it take a little while to write, I did some research before writing. If I offend you or anybody by this fic I’m so sorry! I never want to make anybody uncomfortable or offended by my work, I hope all this is okay. 

Day 22 | Advent Calendar Masterlist 🎄

Natasha knew with Christmas coming up that you'd be stressing quietly about the change in routine, she could see it on your face even though to the others you hid it very well. She wondered how she could help make things a lot easier for you but still keep your original routine. It wasn't easy for Nat to watch you try to avoid holidays and events as they would come and go, she wanted you to always feel your best and enjoy yourself in any way you wanted to. 

 "Baby, can we talk for just a moment?" she asked you while standing in the doorway of the living room, you looked up at her and nodded slowly, unsure what she would want to talk about. "So, I was thinking, with December starting next week, how about we have a look at the calendar and work out days where we can do something for Christmas and which days, we don't need to do anything. Does that sound okay?" she asked as she sat down beside you on the sofa. You smiled softly, "I think that sounds good". Natasha quickly got up and grabbed the calendar from the kitchen and a blue inked pen to fill the month of December with things. 

"Is there anything you'd like to do during the Christmas holiday?" Natasha asked you, wanting you to be in complete control over the holiday. "I'd like to help decorate the tree and the house" you smiled at the thought, "but, I don't think I want to go shopping for the tree, it might be too busy and too loud with all the children running around" you added.

"That is completely okay, dorogoy" Nat smiled as she wrote down 'Christmas decorating' on December 1st, "I'll go with Wanda and the twins to get us a tree and when I'm back we can start decorating it, I'll go early in the morning, so we don't have to rush anything" she explained which you nodded in reply. 

"I would also like to bake cookies and build a gingerbread house with you" 

Natasha's heart melted at the suggestion, making her smile once more. "Which day would you like to do that?" she asked before gently moving the calendar towards you so you could work out which day you thought would work best. "Uhm, 19th?" you answered after a few moments of thinking. "Perfect!" Natasha couldn't help but gently place a kiss on your cheek before she wrote down 'Baking Day' on December 19th. 

"Oh and before I forget, let's keep our room a Christmas free-zone, so that way, if you need to take a break our room will completely Christmas free, no decorations, candles or anything like that" Natasha explained instantly putting that worry to rest and earning a warm smile from you. "Is there anything else?" she asked. 

"Could we do gift shopping online? Please?" you asked as you remembered all the horrible times you had to shop with your family in the mall. "Of course, we can! We will need to allow time for delivery so how about December 5th?" Nat asked, again you nodded in response. 

When everything was all done and planned out carefully, you felt better about the busy time of year and a hint of excitement to be spending the holiday with Natasha who you could see only wanted to make this a perfect Christmas for you.

"Thank you Natty, for this. It will help a lot" you smiled as she placed the pen down, "Anything for you honey" Nat returned the smile before you slowly snuggled up close to her for a few moments as your own little way of truly thanking her.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | 

[dougdimmadodo]

Walrus (Odobenus rosmarus)

Family: Walrus Family (Odobenidae)

IUCN Conservation Status: Vulnerable

Although it is related to seals and sea lions the Walrus is the last living species in its family, and as such its behaviour, anatomy and ecology differs considerably from that of its closest relatives. Among the most prominent traits that set it apart are its enormous canine teeth (referred to as tusks), which protrude from the upper jaws of all adults of this species (although the tusks of females are notably shorter and thinner than those of males.) A Walrus’s tusks serve a variety of functions: they aid a Walrus in dragging itself out of the water, can break through ice to keep breathing holes used to surface for air open, serve as a visual indicator of an individual’s strength (with the highest ranking individuals in a group of Walruses, known as a herd, often being those with the largest tusks), and can be used in combat, both to fight off this species’ few predators (primarily Polar Bears and Orcas) and to battle with rivals to establish social hierarchies and to compete for mates. However, despite being teeth, the tusks are not used when eating (with Walruses feeding by creating suction with their tongue and lips, and having very few teeth besides their tusks.) Found in coastal regions throughout the arctic circle, Walruses spend much of their time foraging for food in shallow waters (typically doing so by rooting through sediment on the seafloor with their snouts and detecting prey using a “moustache” of touch-sensitive whiskers on the upper lip) and prey primarily on marine invertebrates such as clams, shrimps, crabs, worms, snails, octopuses and sea cucumbers (although they may also take small fish, carrion and, on very rare occasions, young seals.) When not feeding, Walruses haul themselves onto sea ice or beaches and gather in large social groups (herds) which may contain hundreds of individuals, typically all of the same sex. During the mating season (which lasts from late December until March) these single-sex herds come together, with males claiming an area of land as their territory before attempting to court females by swimming near their territories and producing a series of booms, whistles and clatters using an air-filled sac in their throat. If receptive to mating a harem of females may gather to mate with a single male, while males that would otherwise show no aggression to one another will use their tusks to fight off rivals in a manner comparable to the rutting behaviour seen in deer. After a gestation period of 15-16 months females will give birth while resting on sea ice (typically to a single calf, although twins have occasionally been reported), and calves will typically remain with their mothers until they are around 3 years old, beginning to develop their tusks during their first year of life. All Walruses belong to one of two genetically distinct subspecies: the Atlantic Walrus (Odobenus rosmarus rosmarus), which is native to the northern Atlantic ocean, and the Pacific Walrus (Odobenus rosmarus divergens), which is native to the northern Pacific ocean.

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Animal Advent Calendar - Day 22

Image Source: https://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/41766-Odobenus-rosmarus