#But I really wanted to draw this part of it

[daalphawolfe13]

As a creator myself this disgusts me. I wrote fanfic long ago. It was never hugely popular but I wasn't really writing it for that purpose. I had a story I wanted to tell. I loved the little comments and likes the project got because it showed me someone else enjoyed my work.

It is so heartbreaking that AI is being used to steal people's work. I imagine a lot of authors are like me who wanted to tell a story. Seeing the pain they're going through as this f-ing guy takes their work and profits off of it is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. I encourage everyone who is part of a Fandom to let him know that what he is doing is wrong. Continue to draw attention to this. Let people like him understand they can't get away with it.

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

Again, please, please PLEASE reblog this post instead of the one I sent originally. All the information is here, and it's driving me nuts to see the old ones are still passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much.

[limethefirst]

im sorry i but i have to get in on this sonic movie s shadow train i love this movie so much as well! And ive been dieing for some movie shadow x readers to pop up. Is it alright if i request something? Can we have a shadow the hedgehog x reader where you also are living in the g.u.n base maria and shadow were? Your father or mother being on of the scientists and one day maria and shadow find you alone in a corner of the base writing music or playing with toys something (your marias age). Thrn they introuce themselfs and maybe you become part of their gaggle of fraggles to always being with them to the point your mother and gerald agree for you and maria both to share a room. With you shadow and maria being so close in time till your all like siblings? Idk this just sounded so cute. Thank you of your able to write this!

Birds of a Feather

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)

warnings: none!!!

summary: after being brought to work with your mother, Maria and Shadow stumble upon you, deciding to invite you to join their little group, from then on the three of you became inseparable

a/n: this is such a cute request! I was gonna end it with both Maria and the reader dying but I think Shadow has been traumatized enough for now…

“You stay put! I have work to do in the lab okay?” Your mother’s voice was stern; being a single mother was tough, especially because she had no one to take care of you while she did her work. You gave her a small nod, acknowledging her request.

A slight sigh escaped her lips as she lightly caressed your cheek, “Just, behave for me please,” was the last thing she told you before she walked into the door to your right, the words ‘Laboratory’ in bright white above the area.

You slowly sat down on the floor, she’d asked you to not leave and you really wanted to respect her decision, even as a child you knew her life was harder than she’d let on.

Unfortunately you were a child with a small attention span. You dug into your pockets and found a small notebook with equations, probably from your mom and a small pencil. Since there was nothing better to do maybe it was best to just draw a little bit, maybe some flowers and animals you liked.

Sitting there, you slightly hunched over, trying your hardest to draw the most beautiful roses and some bees and landscape you could. Suddenly a voice rang out from above you, “What are you doing here?” Your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of a small blonde girl and a strange black and red hedgehog.

“Uhm my mom works here..” you nervously answered her, “What are you doing here?” You asked her exact question but back at her.

“My grandfather works here!” She proudly exclaimed. The hedgehog looked between the both of you, he stood covered behind her, he had a mean face but you could tell he was more curious than anything.

The girl taking note of the awkward silence decided to introduce herself, “I’m Maria! And this is Shadow! What’s your name?”

You looked between the two, taking in who they were before you quietly responded with your name, Maria let out a big grin and Shadow silently repeated it to himself, “What are you drawing?” Maria asked, looking at the small notebook in your hand. You looked down at it and turned it over so the two could see; it looked like a small rabbit with butterflies and flowers around it, “Woah that looks really cool!”

Shadow silently nodded, agreeing with her. You thanked the two of them, fidgeting with your pencil. As Maria continued to talk you took notice of her outfit, she wore a pastel rainbow long sleeve shirt and loose pants with skates on her feet instead of shoes. She must’ve noticed you staring at them as she suddenly asked, “Do you wanna try them!?”

You hesitantly shook your head, as much as you wanted to you didn’t really know her and if she would even be okay with that. Maria reassured you that it was fine and actually really fun, before you could tell her a definite no she’d already taken them off, placing them in front of you, “Try them! Shadow can pull you around,”

Shadow looked between the both of you, clearly not having agreed but Maria nodded her head yes, leaving Shadow to only agree. Surely your mom wouldn’t notice if you were gone for a quick second.

Once you were geared up and Maria found a rope to tie onto Shadow and for you to hold, she grabbed her timer, “Ready, set, go!!” Before you had time to really brace yourself Shadow had already set off, he ran through the base, his face held a small smile as he checked back a few times to check if you were still holding on.

He saw the wide smile you had, your laughter was echoing throughout the hall filled with the other agents. Quickly you already finished the lap and had made your way back to Maria, but unfortunately you didn’t exactly know how to stop, so as Shadow had slowed down you still held a generally fast speed. Too fast actually, causing you to trip and fall face first; thankfully the fast hedgehog was able to grab you and hold you up before you fell and ate concrete.

Maria ran over to check and make sure you were okay, feeling guilt if she somehow made you upset from almost falling. As you stood up, you turned back to look at the two, your extremely wide smile shocking them both, it was almost contagious as Maria started to smile and laugh and Shadow breathed a sigh of relief but you could see the small twitch in his lips making them quirk up.

Suddenly you heard your name coming from beside you, turning you saw your mom as well as her boss Professor Gerald Robotnik looking at the three of you, “I thought I told you to stay put!” Her expression wasn’t one of anger, more a mix of stress and lack of sleep.

“Mom! I’m sorry I just met Maria and Shadow and they’re really fun and I thought it was okay, we didn’t cause any trouble-“ You started to ramble feeling immense guilt for betraying your own mother, but you were suddenly cut off.

“Now now, I think it’s quite alright, you see Maria is my granddaughter, and I trust her and your child doesn’t seem bad” The professor interrupted and explained to your mother, “I actually think it’s good for the kids to hangout and get along” he advocated for you.

All three of you nodded your head, even Shadow was agreeing! Your mom reluctantly nodded her head, agreeing that he was right.

And so you came daily, until your mom had to start working 24/7 and so Gerald let you stay in Maria’s room, even getting you guys a bunk bed. It was nice, the three of you became like the three musketeers, you’d never see each other alone anymore.

Sometimes Maria would play music and you three would all dance and jump around together. At some point you even got your own pair of skates so that you three could race, although Shadow always won.

Life was fun, everyday was like an endless sleepover, sometimes the three of you would sneak out and watch the stars, even falling asleep under the moonlight. It wasn’t bad, not at all.

These were the best days of your life, just you and your two best friends.

[beloveds-embrace]

Until the Last Loop: When the Hour Strikes

(Your doom is drawing nearer and nearer, and now you see the signs that will lead to it)

poly mercenaries 141 x princess reader, time loop

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

Chaos eventually bloomed like rot within the castle walls, just as you’d expected. It began as whispers- always, in every life. Soft, serpentine murmurs slipping through the cracks of stone and shadow- but they spread quickly, clawing their way into the hearts of servants and courtiers alike. The air grew heavy with suspicion, thick as the scent of burning wax and spilled ink.

You felt it before you heard it.

A shift in the way the guards tightened their grips on their spears, in the way your maids avoided your gaze as they fastened your corset too tightly, fingers trembling against your spine. The silence when you entered a room was not the silence of reverence but the hush of fear- of vultures circling, their wings brushing against the walls.

You knew this song. Far too well.

The opening notes were always the same, a familiar melody of betrayal and inevitability, and like every time… the chords struck ominously. Sharp. Harsh. As if the unseen hand twisting the strings were far bolder.

And then the letters came.

Three sealed envelopes left abandoned in the corridors- no names, no crests, just ink blotted into thin, cheap parchment. The first was delivered to the head steward, its contents enough to send the kitchens into disarray as accusations flew. Poisoned wine. A plot to kill the king. Fingers pointed, but no evidence surfaced beyond the words themselves.

The food you were served was always cold and on occasions, spoiled.

The second letter found its way to your father’s study. You hadn’t been there when he read it, but the rage in his voice cracked through the halls like thunder. Words like “treason” and “execution” followed you even after the doors slammed shut.

The third appeared in your chambers. Unmarked. Unsigned.

But unmistakably meant for you.

You turned the paper over in your hands as the candlelight flickered against the script. It bore no threats- only a single sentence, written in a trembling hand:

Trust no one.

You burned it before the wax dripped too far. It didn’t warm the cold ache that burrowed itself in the tendons of your neck.

Of course, your “protectors” had to be aware of everything- maybe they even knew better than you of what rumors were spreading about you, and just as they’d done in most of your latest lives, they try to help:

Soap was the first to storm into yours room, expression thunderous, brows furrowed and his voice tight in his anger.

“Ye need to tell me if ye’ve seen anyone suspicious,” he said, pacing like a caged animal. It was nice to see that you weren’t the only one to feel like that “Anyone lurking where they shouldn’t be. Even if it’s one of the servants.”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Suspicious? In this place, everything was suspicious. Every glance, every word spoken behind closed doors, every breath held too long. No one could be trusted, not really. Everyone and everything was another knot on the noose to go around your neck.

But you bit your tongue, folding your arms against the cold that crept through the stones. “You think it’s one of them?”

He stopped, turning to face you. “I think it’s someone close. Someone who knows enough about ye to make this believable.”

The implication lingered between you, unspoken but heavy.

Soap didn’t say it, but you saw it in the way his eyes flickered to the ashes in the hearth where the letter had burned, in the way his hand hovered near the hilt of his dagger.

“It’s not me.” You sighed.

“I ken, lass.” He said it too quickly, like he was reassuring himself more than you. Then he ran a hand through his shabby hair, exhaling sharply. “But someone wants it to look like it is.”

You scoffed, turning away from him at last. If your hands were shaking, he said nothing of them. “You and I both know someone could come, admit to spreading rumors, and my father would still believe I am to blame. Let it go, Johnny.”

“Lass…”

You had no reply for him. Why would you? You had given up. All you had left was just attempt to ease the fear that constantly plagued you like a swarm of flies.

Ghost was next. He came with shadows clinging to his heels, his presence a weight that settled over the room like the storm clouds of cold winters.

“Who gave you the letter?”

You stared at him, fingers curling into your skirts. They were rumpled, not fully cleaned, but you cared not. Bit by bit, you were nearing the striking hour and everyone around you was a constant reminder of the ticking seconds. “No one. It was already here when I came back.”

Ghost said nothing, the mask leaving him as unreadable as always, but his silence was suffocating.

“Do you think I’m lying?”

“No.” A grunt. A pause. “But I think someone’s lying to you.”

His words burrowed under your skin, sharp and invasive. You didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to acknowledge the seed of doubt taking root in your chest.

But it was there. Growing and spreading its invasive roots.

Ghost lingered even after the questions stopped, his eyes never leaving you, as if he thought you might disappear if he looked away for one second. You should have found it unnerving, but instead, it felt like armor- thin and brittle, but armor nonetheless.

After him, Gaz found you in the gardens, the dying roses from before now nothing more than brittle stems and scattered petals. He didn’t speak at first, didn’t press, just sat beside you.

And for once, you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. Your tongue stopped being a weapon several lifetimes ago; you’d rather have it still in your mouth when you were executed, rather than brutally ripped off for “spreading filthy lies” against your beloved father.

It was Gaz who broke it, eventually. “… We’ll figure it out. We are all searching leads, you know.”

You turned to look at him, searching for something- reassurance, perhaps, or conviction- but found only quiet determination. You wished you could bathe in such an emotion, but…

“Even if it’s too late?” you asked softly.

“It won’t be.”

The certainty in his voice twisted something inside you, fragile and aching. You didn’t want to believe him..

Couldn’t allow yourself such a hope, after all the lives you’d been robbed of. You knew they didn’t like this attitude of yours, found it strange; how certain you were of your early demise.

Price, on the other hand, was a pillar- unshakable and steady in a way that felt rare amidst all the chaos unfolding around you. While the others hunted for answers, sharp and swift, Price moved differently. Slower. More deliberate.

Ghost had told you Price had always been like that; a born, patient hunter. He never rushed, never panicked. Instead, he listened. Observed. Held the room together with nothing but the weight of his presence.

“There’s more to this than letters and rumors.” He said one evening, his voice low as he studied the map of the palace spread between you. Distantly, you noted that his writing was not the same as the one on the letter. “Whoever’s behind this knows what they’re doing.”

You swallowed, the words curling tight in your chest. It made it hard to speak, to think, but you didn’t allow yourself to drown just yet. “Do you think it’ll matter?”

His eyes met yours then- calm and steady. Grounding.

“It matters,” he said quietly. “All of it does, princess. Your insistence on dying so soon is almost making me uncomfortable.”

You ignored his second service; no one would truly understand. It wasn’t the answer you’d been expecting, but it was one you found yourself holding onto anyway.

Because as the days stretched and the shadows pressed closer, Price didn’t falter. He never looked at you the way others did. Never let the whispers of treason or guilt change the way he stood beside you.

When the tension twisted sharp and the weight of it all threatened to drag you under, he didn’t flinch.

He stayed.

And it wasn’t in words or reassurances- it was in the small, steady things. The way he made sure you ate, quietly setting a plate down beside you when your hands were too unsteady to hold a fork. The way he noticed when the walls felt too close, wordlessly leading you outside to breathe.

He was a tether when everything else threatened to break apart.

You never questioned it- never questioned him. Had no energy to do, so why would you question one of the few who didn’t look at you like you were a speck of sticky dirt under their shoes?

Because Price wasn’t like the others. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. He didn’t fill the silence with pretty words.

He simply stayed.

And even when you felt like the world was caving in, that was enough.

By the end of the week, the castle was a hornet’s nest of accusations and fear. The kitchens were searched. The servants were questioned. Even the guards began turning on each other. The hour of the accusations had struck, and now the hour of your execution was nearing.

You were tired- bone-deep, soul-deep. The kind of exhaustion that even sleep couldn’t ease. Not that you slept much these days. The nightmares saw to that, clawing at the edges of your mind until the walls between dream and waking began to blur.

You stared too long into the mirrors, searching for someone you might still recognize and finding only the hollow reflection of a girl who had died too many times to keep pretending she was still whole.

I can’t keep doing this.

I am going to die again. And again. And again.

If anyone- if they- heard you pacing your rooms like a restless animal, no one came in to check you. If they heard your sobs, they knew no comfort offered would soothe you.

One night, after your father visited, after he made you kneel and kiss his feet and swear that you were not attempting to overthrow him, you broke.

Loud, pained, terrified sobs tore through your chest, raw and unrelenting. You pressed your hands to your mouth, desperate to muffle the sounds, but it did little to silence the grief clawing its way out of you.

Your knees buckled beneath the weight of it, and you crumpled to the floor, trembling as the cold seeped into your skin. The walls of your chambers felt smaller, closer, as though they were closing in, suffocating you.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there- folded in on yourself, shivering and broken. Minutes? Hours? Time had lost its meaning, stretching endlessly as your thoughts spiraled.

The door creaked.

You flinched, your breath hitching as shadows shifted across the floor. You didn’t look up. You couldn’t.

Not until a warm, heavy cloak was draped over your shoulders.

Price knelt beside you, silent as he settled onto the floor. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to pull words from you. He only sat, solid and steady, his presence filling the room like the glow of dying embers- quiet, but enduring.

And for the first time that night, the sobs began to slow.

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket

Part 1

Master post

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Lex asked for the nth time.

“Of course it will.” Said the cloaked figure.

Lex wasn't sure why the magic user bothered with the cloak, he had hired him by name after all. 

Gray Warden: 36 years old. Promotes himself as a psychopomp/medium that had pretty good reviews. 

Even from other magic users. Some of his other contacts confirmed that, while not strong in physical/destructive magic, he was an above average medium. His ability to summon spirits and other supernatural beings could be trusted, what he summoned was another story. 

Gray's usual clientele were people grieving loved ones, and the occasional ‘ghost hunter’ looking to ‘prove’ their existence. While not his main job, he did make a pretty penny off of the medium business. It didn't take much for Lex to hire him for a summoning, just a sob story about summoning a spirit to ‘help’ him ‘be better’ and a few thousand dollars. Lex knew most people would expect that would mean to have him act more like the utter buffoon Bruce Wayne, but really, he just wants to be better than Superman. 

Lex waited for Gray to get done drawing a circle on the wood table he had Lex provide and other “Spell components” he said. 

A solid wood table made from oak, ash, or thorne. Preferably oak and/or ash since this is a spirit for healing and new beginnings. When asked about the thorne wood, Gray blushed a bit and asked if he wished to Marry the spirit? Lex stopped asking questions after that. 

The highest quality of chalk available.

Stones of the birth month of Lex himself. When told it was a Sapphire, Gray got excited since that is apparently the perfect stone to summon a helpful spirit with.

And lastly, an object of Lex's choosing to help find the perfect spirit to ‘help’ Lex

Gray assured Lex that the spirit could not affect the world around them other than be heard and seen by those who called upon them. Once all of the preparations were complete Lex was beckoned over.

“So, to complete this ritual you will place your object in the center, with A Drop of your blood. Not two, not three, One. It is not enough to bind, but enough to identify. You will place your hand here, and here” Gray gestures to two symbols on one side of the table. “I will be powering these two symbols, and will call upon a spirit to show itself.

I will be very clear before we start. This is the first time I have done this ritual. I have seen it done twice by my mentor. I do not know exactly what will accept the summoning, but I have placed wards to keep malicious entities from hearing the call. Do you still wish to continue?” Gray asked.

Lex scoffed and placed a baseball sized chunk of Kryptonite on the table. “Let's see who we get.”

Within moments Gray was calling to the otherside, asking for a spirit to answer their call.

“Bro, did you seriously do the equivalent of pspssps'ing a Ghost over with candy?”

There were very few things that could make Lex blue screen. Watching a teenager floating lazily while licking the Kryptonite was one such thing. He had white hair, eyes as green as the rock he was nibbling on, and wearing a black and white suit that reminded Lex of the one the Flash wears.

Gray, apparently, took exception to that. “Excuse me? I don't just call spirits like stray cats!”

“My dude, you were just lacking a windowless van, you did give me free candy after all.” the kid pointed at Gray with the Kryptonite. 

“It's not candy, it's Kryptonite, and we summoned you to help me be better.” Lex stated. 

“Did you seriously summon me to be your Jiminy Cricket? Sure, I got time to waste.” The kid laughed. 

At those words a strange light linked from the kids chest to Lex's chest, glowing gold and toxic green. 

“What the fudg-”

“Lex!”

“Cancel the sum-”

Next

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@dcxdpdabbles for their wonderful prompt/own story Linked Here

[senascoop]

Who do you think gives off major girl dad vibes and who gives off boy dad vibes in enhypen hyung line? 🫣

( GIRL DAD VIBES )

i) JAY — he practically screams “girl dad” with how gentlemanly he is and def seems like the type who would spoil his daughter while also being super protective. Jay would absolutely love twirling his daughter around the living room to teach her how to dance. He’d make sure she felt like a princess every day, whether it’s a random Tuesday or her birthday. While he’d be incredibly protective (probably the type to intimidate her first crush just a little), he’d also have a soft spot. One puppy-eyed look, and he’d cave into whatever she wants. He’d encourage her to be confident, smart, and kind. You can imagine him saying things like, “Always stay true to yourself, no matter what,” or “You’re capable of anything you set your mind to.” He’d be hands-on when it comes to crafting school projects or making her dream playhouse, all while secretly enjoying it more than her.

ii). SUNGHOON — No particular reason but his sweet, slightly shy demeanor gives off “girl dad.” He'd probably dote on his daughter. Sunghoon would be the kind of dad who’s quietly protective. He’d always keep an eye on her but wouldn’t be overbearing. If she had a problem, he’d step in subtly and guide her through it. While he might seem reserved, Sunghoon would secretly practice braiding her hair, doing her nails, or even learning makeup basics so he could bond with her. Imagine him proudly showing her a perfect fishtail braid or helping her pick nail polish colors! Sunghoon would treasure all her milestones. He’d secretly keep a box of her drawings, first letters, or little gifts she made him, reminiscing over them when she grew older. At school events, he might be the quiet dad in the back but would burst with pride when she’s on stage or playing sports. He’d clap the loudest and tell everyone, “That’s my daughter!”

( BOY DAD VIBES )

iii) HEESEUNG — Heeseung gives off really strong major “fun and chill” boy dad vibes. He'd bond over video games and sports, being an ideal responsible role model in the child's life. Heeseung would not only be a dad but be more like a buddy. He'd always be down to play video games, shoot hoops, or build Legos; he would make sure that his son knows that he is his biggest fan and the best friend. Whether it's basketball, soccer, or whatever, Heeseung would be the dad who always practiced with his son out in the yard. He'd be cheering him on at every game and even coaching the team if needed. Heeseung would be the right balance between being laid back and having boundaries. His son would know there's always room for fun but also the importance of respect and discipline. Music is such a big part of Heeseung's life, so you can bet there'd be karaoke nights where they'd sing their hearts out. His son would probably inherit Heeseung's love for music and maybe even some of his talent.

iV) JAKE — he seems like he would make a close friend with his son. They would spend weekends watching sports, playing video games, or going out into the wild for some hike or fishing. He would want his son to feel as though they are a team in everything. He would drop nuggets of wisdom like, “It is okay to fail, but never stop trying,” to make sure that his son feels encouraged about whatever happened. He would always say “I love you” and make sure that his son feels supported emotionally. Jake would be the dad who's always ready to listen, whether it is about his son's day at school or his dreams and worries. He would be that laid-back parent but not one to shy away from teaching his child how to live life and its various implications, like cooking, keeping money in order, and how to tackle problems with the right attitude.

[hitomisuzuya]

being wrapped up with ribbon as a christmas present for aventurine... im on the floor....

aventurine x fem!reader. smut. body worship. nipple play. cunnilingus. spoilers for aventurine's real name.

i hope smut was what you were asking for 😭 if not, my apologies. i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas.

you got a lot of encouragement from topaz. aventurine's eyes held both a look of soft amusement and captivated awe as he looked at you. there you are, a shy blush on your cheeks, offering your wrist that has a lopsided christmas ribbon tied to it. tying it with one hand had indeed been a challenge, to say the least.

every part of your body was highlighted perfectly by the lingerie you put such careful thought into picking out. "happy christmas. i hope i am an okay gift," you said shyly, barely able to look at him in your flustered state.

"my my, you shouldn't have," aventurine replied, his eyes sliding over your body as he untied the bow. "i will unwrap you, and enjoy you thoroughly," he dropped the ribbon to the floor.

both his words and the action of untying the ribbon made the blush darken on your cheeks. every word aventurine said dripped with appreciation for your gesture. "such an exquisite gift deserves to be indulged in," he delicately removed your bra and panties, taking extra time in brushing his fingers over your skin teasingly.

he led you over to the bed, gently maneuvering you onto your back. "tell me, sweetheart, to what do i owe the honor of such a," his finger traced a line from your throat to between your breasts, "lavish gift?" he chuckled hearing your shy squeak. he is more than aware of how much just the sound of his voice affected you.

his cock aches always seeing how adorable your flustered reactions are.

"because you are you. i want you, aventurine. thank you, so much for simply existing," you replied, shivering as goosebumps dotted your skin in the wake of his touches.

aventurine felt both his cock hardening and his heart swelling. your words were full of genuine love and endearment. he turned your head to look at him with a finger under your chin. "what kind of man would i be if i didn't except such a gift?"

lying next to you on his side, aventurine kissed his way down your neck, drawing a shaky sigh from you as his teeth grazed your skin. he put an arm around you, leaning around to flick his tongue on your nipple while he parted your legs.

he groaned softly, slowly wagging his tongue across your nipple. "you know, i have always enjoyed the sensation of your nipple hardening on my tongue," he latched his lips around your nipple to suck on, dipping his fingers to part the folds of your pussy. "you are really enjoying my tongue," he teased, swirling his tongue around and around your nipple relentlessly.

your hips twitched up to grind on his fingers, his sucks on your nipple sent jolts of pleasure to your throbbing clit. you whimpered softly behind your moans, your hand finding the back of his head to press his mouth down onto your breast. you carded your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

aventurine sighed, soaking up the feeling of your fingertips rubbing on his scalp. he practically purred as he switched his attention to your other nipple, drool rolling down your breast. he savoured the sounda of your moans rising in octave, becoming more consistent as he stroked your pussy and played with your clit.

more wet pooled between your legs, the worshipping sucks and licks on your nipples made your pussy clench around nothing. you grind against his fingers, arching your chest up into his mouth slightly to convey your urgency for him.

"k-kakavasha," you moan, grinding your clit on his fingers. aventurine pinched and rubbed your clit, his sucks on your nipples turning more aggressive as he grinded his hard cock against your thigh. you moaning his real name so sweetly turned him on even more.

he is determined to worship your pussy next. rolling over onto his stomach, he slotted himself between your thighs. "say it again," he moans, his tongue sweeping between your drooling folds. he looked up at you expectantly, his fingers ghosting along the insides of your thighs.

"kakavasha," you cry out, your thighs shaking as you grind against his mouth. your clit throbbed on his tongue as he scooped it into his mouth to suck on as drool pools onto your pussy.

he groans hearing you oblige him. he wagged his tongue around and around your clit, his head spinning with absolute love. "how lovely you sound, sweetheart. please," he prodded your tongue on your abused clit before licking a stripe down your pussy to tease at your hole. "do moan my name just like that while you cum."

aventurine hardly gave you a moment to breath as he ravished your cunt. just when you processed the strong jolts of pleasure burning through you, he coaxed another much stronger one to grip your body. "kakavasha! oh fuck, kakavasha, don't stop!" you writhe on the bed, chasing the warm, delicious pressure of your orgasm building in your core.

"how sweet you sound," he moans, pushing his tongue inside of you. his eyes rolled in the back of his head tasting your walls clench around his tongue, your back arching off the bed as he pinched and rubbed your clit. "give me more, sweetheart."

you tug on his hair, pushing his mouth down onto your cunt as your hips buck into his mouth. "kakavasha!" you moaned in an endearing way that made his cock pulse even more. your gasp of pleasure as he latched his lips around your clit again was the only warning he got before his tongue on your clit tore your orgasm out of you.

you couldn't even think about anything, except for how good his tongue felt fucking into you while he lapped at your release.

[two-white-butterflies]

gave you all my best me's (i)

Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.

Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader

Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.

It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.

You answer him with an awkward chuckle.

Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.

"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.

You forced a smile on your face.

You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.

"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.

"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.

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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.

"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.

You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.

Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...

"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.

"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.

"I want to get married," you blurted out.

He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.

You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.

"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.

"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.

You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.

"Let's break up," he proposed.

He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.

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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭

pussydaposi: This is my roman empire

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(ONE YEAR LATER)

nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!

liked 1,293,012 others

>comments

sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸

Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government

oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭

comments have been restricted

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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.

It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.

Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.

This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.

Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.

"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.

"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.

Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.

You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.

His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.

He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.

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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.

Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.

"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.

The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.

You licked your lips.

"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.

"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.

"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.

"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.

His eyes softened.

"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.

You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.

"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.

"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.

He shakes your hand.

"We have a deal," he confirms.

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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.

You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.

"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.

"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.

You needed to be prepared for this battle.

"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.

You giggle too.

"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.

"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.

His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.

"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.

He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.

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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???

liked by 92,239 others

>comments

DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺

YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me

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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.

"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.

An amused chuckle exits your mouth.

"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.

"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.

His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.

He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.

Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.

He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.

"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.

"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.

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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires

liked by 1,293,012 others

>comments

MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?

aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️‍🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️

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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.

"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.

"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.

It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.

Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.

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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.

The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.

It was truly a sight to behold.

A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.

"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.

He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.

A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.

"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.

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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.

He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.

What a horrible day to be alive.

His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.

"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.

"I'm alright, mom." He insists.

Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?

Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.

"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.

"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.

"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.

Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.

"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.

"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.

He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.

He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.

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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.

Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.

"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.

"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.

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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️

liked 912,382 others

>comments

helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA

comments have been restricted

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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.

"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.

"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?

"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.

"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.

Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.

He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.

"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.

Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.

"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.

"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.

He is too late to bring this love back to life.

"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.

"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.

"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.

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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍

liked by 2,129,391 others

>comments

ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭

JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER

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PART TWO

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

[bingsoo-jung]

Returning with a mediocre part 3. I want to say thanks to @dalishious for sending me the Rivain pages! So my current working theory is that the halter/tabengman is supposed to be from Qunari culture. The reason for this, is that the pages in the art book specifically note that Rivaini fashion is very recognizably Rivaini, but borrows from a lot of cultures. As far as I can tell, Rivaini fashion seems to be a hodgepodge of a few cultures, there’s some colonial Carribean, some SWANA, and some southeast Asian fashion.

So this for instance seems to be a cross between a Grong Kor/กรองคอ, which is this neckplate worn both as jewelry and armor in southeast asia historically, and possibly a neck plates worn by the Aztecs I think (I couldn’t find the name unfortunately, and thus I cannot verify its existence).

However this seems to be based off of what the conquistadors wore (to be fair, it’s very generically 1600s European, but the invocation of a pirate-y aesthetic makes me think spanish-Portuguese more), which is very interesting because that’s not quite what i got from the lof originally! But i think it’s also a very interesting framing to put them in.

what makes me think it’s from the qunari is that the first time we saw things like the tabengman being worn, it was by the qunari. There’s also concept art of Qunari in DAI showing them wearing a sash with a knot tied at the belt, there’s a few knots this could be, but this strongly closely resembles a chinese knot called the cloud knot (戒箍结) or a bamboo cage knot (十角结). I’ll admit despite being Thai-Chinese my family doesn’t make knots on the new year, we buy them.

I think beyond that there’s only so much I can draw more direct and staunch comparisons to because it starts to get into the zone of ‘well this is featured in many cultures’. So for instance I’ll say that the qunari are often depicted wearing something akin to a loin cloth OR a sash with a long hanging middle piece, which most Southeast warriors wore historically, but that’s not really proof of much. Mactan and Dayak warriors seemed to wear the most similar looks though.

i will say, that i do think vitaar and qunari tattoos in general do more or less resemble filipino, indonesian, and burmese tattoos. Most specifically, i think they resemble the tattoos of tribes that practiced headhunting traditionally, especially the konyaks (i’ve also officially run out of images on mobile sorry).

But I think I’ve also finally beat this dead horse into submission! So unless I find something new and fun? That’ll be all for this weird little series of posts.

my funny controversial veilguard opinion is that while i get why people are saying the 'sexy lof' armor is orientalist and i do think there's a convo to be had there... that armor is also based off of actual clothes people historically wore in southeast asia. like this

is absolutely based off of these

and while these are stylised forms of the outfit it's not because of the skin being shown. the women wearing shirts underneath are not wearing it as thai people wore tabengman historically. because historically we didn't really wear a lot of shirts, shirts were not legally mandated clothes until the 1940s. my thai grandmother is older than that. in fact a lot of asia didn't get around to stigmatizing and sexualizing breasts until the 1800s or later (like you can find photos of korean women in the 1900s with their breasts out and that was fine and normal culturally). the reason these are stylized though is bc they're made of silk and they're wearing brocades. most people would've worn this in plain fabric without gold brocades bc silk and gold are expensive.

and, to be clear, a lot of both the LoF and qunari armors and fashion is based off of historical southeast asian fashion. isabella is straight up wearing a hmong necklace.

the qunari ropes are also almost certainly based off of muay boran kard chuek which is this old way of binding your hands with hemp ropes in thailand for boxing. you can also see that in qunari concept art they've drawn them with intricate knots that are very chinese in origin, they're wearing armor in rattans weaved patterns. (i'll also point out that it was explicitly said in the past that people from east tevinter, which is closer to seheron, look like dorian, and dorian's va is half indo-fijian and half malay. that man belongs to the south pacific.)

and yes, we could have a whole conversation about specifically choosing to look at these armors instead of other southeast asian armors. but i think a lot of people think the armor is based off of western fantasies of belly dancer costumes... which while may have played a part, it's also very clear to me that the devs have used a lot of southeast asian inspiration for seheron, rivain, and part of tevinter.

[mistressofstars]

A Lecture on Desire

Pairing: Kathryn Hahn x Reader

Summary: A lecture on The Price of Salt is supposed to be all about Therese and Carol, but when Professor Hahn locks eyes with you, lines blur. Non-magical AU

Word Count: 1.6k

„Do you like her?“

''Of course!' What a question! Like asking her if she believe in God.“

- Patricia Highsmith, The Price of Salt

Part I

The classroom hums with the usual energy—papers rustling, laptops clicking shut, and a few muffled conversations as students gather their things and the soft scrape of chairs against the floor as students pack up. Kathryn Hahn your English literature professor is standing at the front leaning against the desk. Her reading glasses rest on the tip of her nose, and she’s holding The Price of Salt in one hand, the well-worn edges of the book betraying the number of times it’s been read. Her other hand closes her notebook with a soft snap.

„Alright, folks,” she says, her voice slicing through the chatter with that signature blend of authority and subtle warmth. “That’s it for today. Let this sit with you, take it, marinate on it, so you don’t come back next class asking me to repeat myself.”

“And for those of you who didn’t speak today—you know who you are—next class is your chance, I expect more from you.“!Her eyes scan the room, lingering for a moment longer on the faces of the students who’ve been quiet

„I want you to think about Therese’s attraction to Carol. What is it, really, that draws her in? Is it Carol’s beauty? Her confidence? Or is there something else, something harder to define?“ She smirks, a playful challenge in her expression.

With that, Kathryn gathers her things, slipping the notebook under her arm and walking to the door, her heels clicking softly against the floor.

The classroom is slowly emptying, the soft hum of chatter growing louder as students make their way out. You sit there, the weight of Kathryn’s words still hanging in the air. The question she left you with—about Therese’s attraction to Carol—lingers in your mind, but it’s something more than just the academic challenge that’s stuck with you.

The the last few students file out, one of them, a familiar face from past semesters, leans over and taps your desk.

“You okay?” they ask, an eyebrow raised, clearly having noticed the way you were staring off into space.

You glance up, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that’s settled in. “Yeah, just… thinking,” you mutter.

They smirk knowingly, shifting their weight. “Yeah, I get it. She has that effect on people. You’re not the first to get caught up in her questions.”

You glance at them, unsure how to respond, but curiosity bubbles up. “Caught up in her questions?”

“Ah, you’ll see,” they say with a sly grin. “Kathryn Hahn? She’s the kind of professor who makes you think you’re just discussing literature, but you end up grappling with things you didn’t expect. She’s… intense. You’ll find yourself reflecting on what she says long after class.“

…

The library is quiet, the kind of stillness that settles in just before dusk. For the first time this winder snow falls, outside the tall windows, blanketing the campus in white. You’re tucked into a corner near the philosophy section, working through notes for next week’s class, but your mind keeps drifting. The question Professor Hahn posed still lingers, twisting through your thoughts like smoke: What is it that draws Therese to Carol?

Your pen hovers over the page, the words stubbornly refusing to come. Frustrated, you glance out the nearest window, hoping the snowfall might offer some clarity—or at least a distraction.

And that’s when you see her.

Professor Hahn stands near one of the buildings more hidden side entrances, a cigarette balanced between her fingers. She’s dressed in a long black coat, its sharp lapels framing a pale satin blouse beneath. The blouse is undone just enough to reveal the curve of her collarbone and the faintest glimpse of skin beneath, completely inappropriate for the snow swirling around her. But she doesn’t seem to care. Her hair is slightly tousled, catching the faint glow of the streetlight above her.

You watch as she takes a slow drag, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that seems almost deliberate. The smoke curls around her face before disappearing into the cold air. She tilts her head back slightly, exhaling with a languid ease, her eyes half-lidded, lost in some thought you can’t begin to guess.

Her fingers move with precision, buttoning the coat halfway, but the effort seems half-hearted, as though the biting cold is of no real concern to her. Snowflakes settle in her dark hair. She’s mesmerizing. The kind of presence that doesn’t demand attention but captures it effortlessly. Her hand moves as she flicks ash into the snow and she flicks some hair out of her face when- for a brief moment

grey eyes flicker up towards the library window, Toward you. Your heart stops beating. You can’t breathe, frozen right then and there. She saw me.

Her coat shifts when she moves, revealing glimpses of her wrist, her neck. She lifts the cigarette to her lips again, her fingers brushing against her face sucking.There’s something hypnotic about the way she moves, unhurried, as though every gesture is deliberate.

Did she see me?

You know you should look away. Your heart still beats uncomfortably strong against your ribcage. The snow falls heavier, settling on her shoulders, her hair. She doesn’t brush it away. Instead, she leans against the wall, tipping her head back once more, a wisp of smoke curling from her mouth like some kind of signature.

She didn’t see me.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been watching until she moves suddenly, flicking the cigarette into the snow and crushing it under the toe of her boot. Then, just before stepping out of view, her lips curve into the faintest smirk.

…

The lecture hall is filmed with the usual chatter, but the moment of silence falls when Kathryn stands, ready to begin. She steps to the front, pulling a well-worn copy of The Price of Salt from her bag, flipping it open to a marked page

She clears her throat, then gestures to one of the students, a quiet one who often volunteers. “Would you read for us, please?”

The student stands, their voice hesitant but clear as they begin: „Their eyes met at the same instant moment, Therese glancing up from a box she was opening, and the woman just turning her head so she looked directly at Therese. She was tall and fair, her long figure graceful in the loose fur coat that she held open with a hand on her waist, her eyes were grey, colorless, yet dominant as light or fire, and, caught by them, Therese could not look away.’

The room is still, each word hanging in the air, and you can feel the tension in the story building just as it did when you read that passage yourself. You glance up at Kathryn, who watches the student with an unreadable expression. Her eyes narrow slightly, lips pressing together as she listens intently.

When the student finishes reading, Kathryn slowly closes the book, looking up. “Now,” she says, her voice cutting through the quiet, “what is it that makes Therese so captivated by Carol in this moment?”

Her gaze flickers to you suddenly, as if she’s been waiting for you to speak. Her eyes lock with yours, „Miss Y/N“.

You hadn’t expected it to be you. The question hangs in the air, heavy with her gaze, and for a moment, the whole class seems to blur.

You take a breath, nerves starting to take hold, but you push them down.

„Therese is drawn to Carol not just because of her beauty, though that’s undeniable. It’s the way Carol carries herself, like she’s fully aware of the power she holds. Her elegance, her confidence—it’s magnetic. But what really pulls Therese in is how Carol allows her to look.“

At that you you see Professor Hahn slightly leaning forward her eyes widen ever so slightly.

You swallow hard but continue, her eyes still locked on you. „There’s an invitation in the way Carol moves, the way she presents herself.‘ It’s like Carol isn’t just beautiful, she’s a creature who knows she’s being watched, and she welcomes it. She enjoys it. And that’s part of the pull. For Therese, it’s not just about wanting Carol, it’s about being invited into that space, being allowed to gaze upon someone who seems so untouchable yet so real.”

Your voice falters just for a second as a memory sweeps over her. Her gaze flickers for a moment, and she’s back in the library, staring through the window at the snow-covered campus. The image of Professor Hahn standing outside in the cold returns in a flash—the sharp contrast of her long black coat and the satin blouse beneath it, the way her fingers delicately held the cigarette, the way she seemed completely unbothered by the snow settling in her hair, like the weather didn’t stand a chance against her.

“Carol doesn’t shy away from Therese’s gaze—she thrives on it.“ Kathryn’s gaze sharpens, her lips curling ever so slightly, and you know she’s taking in every word. She doesn’t break eye contact.

„It makes Carol feel… desired, powerful in a way that she’s able to control.“ You whisper those last words. Breaking the eye contact finally. You could swear Professor Hahns pupils dilated, her arms that were folded across her chest slowly open and she holds herself on the desk.

“Interesting,” she says, her voice smooth and low. “We’ll explore that more next time.” Her eyes linger just a moment longer, a flicker of something you can’t quite place in them, before she shifts her attention to the rest of the class.

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

so, ive been rewatching season two of arcane, and noticed a few things

in viktor's commune, this is the kid that leads jayce to viktor. i always thought it was like... an odd amount of focus to be put on this character. tho i wasnt really thinking too much of it, because arcane loves to zero in on background characters in a sort 'mulan and the others find a doll in the wreckage of a village' kind of way, you know? look small for big impacts.

putting the rest under a read more because this gets long

now, in ekko's alternate reality in episode seven. i always like watching the crowds of zaunites, mainly searching for easter eggs and any possible connections that i can draw back to our main universe. and i may have found one

here's the crowd watching heimer's little street performance

uh

UH

...........

this is, obviously, the same fucking kid.

what i think is most interesting about this, though, is that in the 'good ending' universe that ekko ended up in, zaun was a community where physical differences and disabilities, like needing a wheel chair as mobility aid, were not seen as something needing to be fixed. it can be implied that there are probably a lot more ways of making things accessible in that version of zaun, and that disabilities dont prohibit zaunites from being with others and doing what they want.

unlike in our universe, where this was clearly not the case. i think that that crowd shot is, in a way, a direct parallel to viktors backstory opening shots.

the group of children playing together as a group, and viktor, another child with a physical disability, is forced to be off by himself. isolated either because of his peers not wanting to be around him, or because the environment around him is just not accessible (most likely both)

they basically hand it to us. singed asks why viktor isn't playing with the other children, and all viktor has to do is show the fact that he is disabled for singed to understand. the inaccessibility and exclusion and ableism is just a fact of life.

so, it makes sense that when viktor gets the ability to heal others, he makes this child able bodied, just like he did for himself. viktor can't even conceive of a society like the zaun and piltover that ekko ended up in, because his whole life he has been cast aside due to his disability.

its just interesting to me that they made the child who brings jayce to viktor at the commune be another young zaunite with a mobility aid, just like viktor was. especially how later, jayce is the one to tell viktor the monologue about how he was never broken, and his disability wasnt something he needed to completely remove, because it was a part of him, and who he was already was enough.

just some cool food for thought!

[creatingblackcharacters]

i have a question im seeing an influx of elphaba/glinda fanart based on the movie but sometimes im not sure if the artist drew Black hair correctly? i wanna reblog but i dont wanna promote art that doesnt draw Black hair correctly but i also dont want to be overly critical of the art? im using my best judgement but sometimes it feels like none of the way people draw Black hair looks right and i have to lower my standards i feel like im going crazy scrutinizing elphaba’s braids every time i see art on my dash is it supposed to be like that (i am poc but not Black)

It's maddening, isn't it?

You're talking about lowering your standards and being less critical, but the standard is "depicting a Black woman as she looks". That's the bare minimum! Cynthia Erivo said that she intentionally chose microbraids for Black girls to see that style on screen- choosing not to depict that style as is, is tantamount to saying "fuck them Black girls and their rep".

So! This is a CHOICE that you have to make!

Do you choose antiblackness for the sake of your enjoyment? Do you accept that you'd rather be antiblack in order to feel comfortable, to feel included, to feel "more sane"? Because you've said the quiet part out loud- be willing to accept that you'll be letting antiblackness slide for fun! But it's easier!

Or, do you choose to keep your standards, and accept that it is, ultimately, lonely? And yes, it is sad and hurtful and crazy that in order to be included, you have to accept racism (and you're not even a part of the group being demeaned this time). You can choose antiracism, and accept that it means seeing just how normalized racism really is in your spaces, and just how unwelcome being Black really is. And that is hard.

Me personally, I usually choose the latter. It is lonely, and 8/10 I cannot share the art of the "Black" character I love. But I think it was Che Guevara that said "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine." 👍🏾 My integrity means a lot to me- if they don't respect me, I gotta respect me, and I respect those who own up to the hard choice.

[sylver-star]

⭑.ᐟ

Neither of you have had a craft day since you were kids, but the sudden urge was too powerful to ignore. So, you and Vernon are now sitting on the floor, making bracelets and putting patches on your clothes. It started out as you needing to mend a pair of jeans, which led to Vernon sitting down next to you with a box of beads that he "borrowed" from Joshua.

"Look at this one." Vernon holds up a newly made bracelet.

The beads are black and red, but in the middle there are a few white ones with letters on them. "L U V U".

"Luvu?" You snort.

"Love. You," he corrects. "It's cute!"

"It looks like it says luvu," you continue to tease him, but feel a little bad when you look at his disappointed expression. "I luvu you too, though."

Now it was Vernon's turn to snort. He put the bracelet on the floor in front of him, and you put down whatever you're working on to pick it up. You open the clasp and put it over your wrist, which you hold out to Vernon.

"Clasp it for me? Please?"

"You don't have to wear it," he says.

"I want to. Now, clasp it already. I can't do it myself."

He does as you ask, and you happily look at the red and black bracelet. "It's never coming off, just so you know."

"Dork."

"Nerd."

The two of you chuckle and return to your crafts. You've just finished sewing on a patch to Vernon's jean jacket. It was probably too expensive for you to ever afford, but Vernon was adamant that you sew on a patch for him. You hold it up for him to see.

"Oh, that's sick! How did you do the stars? Did you buy a special pen or something?" He reaches out to touch it, but you quickly pull it back.

"Nail polish," you correct him. "And I don't think it's dry yet."

He leans over and looks a bit closer at the design. "You should paint my nails to match."

That's how you end up with Vernon's hands in your lap, a thin brush with black nail polish carefully drawing stars on his nails. As you finish up the final nail, he holds his fingers up to the light.

"That's really cool." He nods in approval.

Some of his nails are completely painted black - a sign of your mistakes - but most have one star covering each of them. "And it'll match the jacket," you add.

"You make me a cooler person," he says, and can't help but laugh at how silly it sounds.

"Please." You roll your eyes, but a part of you feels proud. And you know that you will soon see photos of him, zoomed in on his nails and the details on his jacket, and be able to read the comments thanking his stylist - which just happened to be you.

[bubblegumgothglados]

Aftercare should generally involve the opposite of the things a scene involved, it should balance the "negative" physical and psychological impact of the scene.

This is a fairly neat summation and simplification of a very complex and nuanced topic. But it's a good place to start if you're new and don't quite understand the concept of aftercare or if you're experienced and trying a new type of play. It's a simple framework to build upon as you learn more about your individual needs and the needs of your play partner(s).

So what are the physical and psychological impacts of a scene. (Do note we're specifically talking about those impacts we don't want to last past the end of a scene, puppies don't want to be told they're not puppies as aftercare)

I'm not going to separate these because what effects you psychologically is also going to effect you physically and vice versa. These things are not separate.

A good example on the more psychological side might be degradation which damages a submissive's self worth, self image, ego, etc. To balance this aftercare should focus on affirmation and rebuilding /healing those things. Similarly fear play damages a submissive's sense of safety/ wellbeing, aftercare for which should involve being made to feel safe, comfortable with their dominant, and st ease.

Having said that, a good example of this balance on the more physical side is replacing lost energy. Basically no matter what type if play you're engaging in you will burn a lot of energy, so to balance that you should replace that energy. I write about this in much more detail HERE.

Getting a little more complicated; sub drop. Coming 'down' from a submissive headspace, especially one that includes pain play, can be very unpleasant. The neurotransmitters released during a scene fade away, this feels something like the crash after an adrenaline spike, and can leave a submissive feeling lethargic, empty, sad, etc. To balance this aftercare should involve things the submissive enjoys to bring those neurotransmitter levels back up a little and alleviate some of the withdrawal symptoms. This can include but shouldn't be limited to; cuddles, kisses, warm snugly things like blankets and stuffies, their favourite snacks, their favourite movie or TV show, etc

"Top drop" is less a neurological thing and more of a social thing. Although the top headspace also includes it's own share of neurotransmitters which also drop off it's almost always to a much lesser extent. The most common major effect of top drop is guilt; hurting someone you care about is something deeply ingrained as bad and even if they like it, even if they're begging for it, it can still effect you really deeply. Aftercare for this should involve affirmation that the bottom isn't hurt beyond what they want to be, that they still care about and trust their dom, etc.

This is an infinitely nuanced topic, I could write until the character limit and still not cover all the ways that aftercare could go. But I have to draw a line in the sand somewhere so let me make one final point. Don't worry too much about getting this perfectly right the first few times, you'll figure out what you need and what your play partner(s) need. The most important part is the "care" half of "aftercare" show them you're willing yo put in the effort to make sure they're OK and you can't go to wrong

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?

With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)

2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”

It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.

He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 

"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."

He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…

He's sort of left completely speechless by you.

“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 

“No way! It’s not finished.”

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 

“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”

You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.

the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.

At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 

“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 

You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 

“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“Moze.”

One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.

Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”

He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.

Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.

 “Hah…how should I pose you.”

Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 

“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”

Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”

He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.

He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Today Only

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 9)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

You've got the perfect plan for Levi's birthday – now Levi just has to play along. What could go wrong?

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 3.2k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

You sneaked across the foyer of the scout's headquarters, stifling a yawn. Maybe you could still get in some shut eye before morning assembly. You hadn't slept a wink all night, having waited at the docks for the first ferry of the day, and now you were chilled down to the bone. It was still criminally early, and you couldn't wait to slide under your warm covers. At least you were already in your pajamas.

You tiptoed around a corner, colliding with something solid.

"No!" you gasped, protectively wrapping your arms around the box you were carrying as you fell flat on your butt.

You squinted up at the unexpected obstacle, which, or rather who, was glaring down at you.

"Levi?" you asked, blinking in confusion. A smile formed on your lips, but then it froze – he wasn't supposed to see his present. You scrambled to your legs, attempting to hide the box as you hurried past him.

"Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed your wrist. "Care to explain why you are late?"

You winced, trying to tuck the box under your arm without drawing any attention to it.

"I missed the last ferry, that's all. Sorry if I made you worry."

Levi's eyes narrowed at your response. "Ferry? Were you in Mitras? Don't tell me you were there for t–"

"It wasn't like that," you said quickly. "This is private, okay? I'm not obligated to talk about it. And I don't want to." You had to look down to try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. Lying had never been your strong suit.

"Still, you should have told someone where you were going," he said sternly, not loosening his grip on your wrist. "You can't just disappear like that, with no way to reach out to you."

You glanced back up at him. There was an intensity in his gaze you had never seen before.

"I guess you're right," you murmured. "I didn't plan this. I was only supposed to be gone for the day."

"But you weren't. Something could've happened," he muttered. He looked away briefly, letting out a sharp breath. "Just don't do something stupid like that again, okay?"

"Okay," you said. "I promise."

Levi nodded and let go of your wrist.

"Actually, should we do a pinky promise?" You held out your pinky.

"No."

"They are stronger, didn't you know? If you break them, your pinky falls off."

He snorted. "You don't actually believe that nonsense, do you?"

"You're no fun," you pouted, but there was a gleam of mischief in your eyes. Before he could respond, you quickly grabbed his hand, intertwining your pinky with his.

Levi went still for a moment, his gaze flickering down to where your hands were connected.

"Fine," he muttered. "But don't go breaking it."

"Of course not. I want to keep my pinky, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. You gave him your biggest smile, relieved to see that he didn't seem mad anymore, and released his hand to suppress a yawn.

"By the way, how come you're still awake at this hour?" You leaned in slightly, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, which were even more pronounced than usual. Levi didn't say anything, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away again.

"You should really get some sleep," you said. "I'm heading to bed, too. I'm so tired." Giving him a quick smile, you added, "Good night!" before scampering away, hugging the box with his present to your chest.

"Night? It's already morning," Levi grumbled, but you were already out of earshot.

– –

In the end, you barely managed to squeeze in one hour of sleep. That wasn't enough to dull your excitement, though. Only a few more days until Levi's birthday, and there was still so much to plan.

Determined to not lose any precious time, you went up to Erwin's office, wielding a letter of apology. You couldn't afford to to be delayed by disciplinary actions – it was best to be proactive.

You knocked once, then stepped inside without missing a beat.

"I'm so sorry for being late. Please accept this letter of apology as a token of my sincere, most heartfelt regret." You placed it on his desk. It was five pages long, packed with every minuscule detail you could've possibly thought of.

Erwin acknowledged it with a weary nod. "Ah, the prodigal child has returned."

You grinned. "Yes! And we have many important things to discuss."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do we?"

"Uh huh. I've devised a plan."

"A plan...?"

"Yes! For Levi's birthday, to be exact. And you happen to play an important role in it!"

"Of course I do," he muttered, heaving a resigned sigh.

"Don't worry," you said, practically bouncing with excitement. "It's not that hard! You just have to keep him occupied while I decorate his office and set everything up. Maybe you can call a meeting and just talk about whatever."

Erwin didn't seem to keen on the idea.

"Just for an hour, or so. If you're unsure how to fill the time, I made flashcards with suggestions."

With a proud flourish, you set down a small tower of paper cards in front of him.

The first card read: 'Striving Beyond the Horizon - A motivational speech for the upcoming expedition'.

He glanced at the flashcards, his brow furrowed slightly. "... I don't think these will be necessary, thank you."

"Suit yourself!" You picked them back up, accidentally dropping one in the process.

Erwin took it from the ground, reading it slowly, his lips twitching slightly as he took in the dramatic wording.

'Why do we keep going? What compels us every day to put on this uniform, to march towards the unknown, towards the Titans?' [Make a dramatic pause here, maybe sweep your arm out in a grand gesture to buy more time.] 'I believe there to be meaning in the journey itself, in the act of moving forward, the striving… in each of the discoveries we make along the way. Not just about the Titans, not just about the world outside, but about ourselves.' [Make prolonged eye contact here.] 'It is not just our knowledge that grows in our ever-present push against the horizon. No. We too, grow as people. As we challenge the walls, we challenge what it's like to be human.'

"Did you write an entire speech?" Erwin looked at you incredulously.

"I may have gotten a little carried away," you admitted. "It should be about an hour long, if you follow the additional directions I put in."

Erwin ran a hand over his face. "While I commend your effort, I don't think Levi would sit through an hour-long speech just for him."

"Yeah, you might be right about that." You gave him a sheepish smile. "But since this is you we're talking about, I'm sure you will figure out other ways to keep him away from his office. I have complete faith in you!"

Erwin rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking thoroughly exhausted. "You're going to great lengths for Levi."

"Of course! He's saved my butt more times than I can count. I have to give back somehow."

He scrutinized you for a moment, then shook his head. "Does Levi know you're back? If not, you should probably tell him."

"Yep, he caught me this morning when I came back, gave me a solid talking-to."

"Good. He was up all night worrying about you."

You shot Erwin a look of disbelief, then chuckled. "Haha, good one. You almost had me here. But this is Levi we're talking about."

"I'm not joking," the commander said matter-of-factly.

"Well, he probably just couldn't fall asleep. You know how he is," you replied with a shrug.

Erwin exhaled sharply. "Sure." He motioned to the papers on his desk. "I should get back to work."

"Yeah, I shouldn't keep you any longer. Thanks for agreeing to be a part of the plan though, you're a huge help!"

You beamed at him, then turned to leave. Erwin looked after you blankly. Had he really agreed? Well, with you, he figured there was rarely any other option.

– –

The alarm sounded before dawn, rousing your roommates with groans of confused annoyance. You sat up straight, feeling the excitement rush through your veins. It was the 25th of December – time to set your plan into motion.

You made your way to the mess hall kitchen, ready to kick off the first phase of your operation. After that, you went back and forth between your room and Hange's office many times – she'd kindly allowed you to store everything there, so you'd be faster setting everything up later.

As you hustled and bustled about all day, you avoided Levi like a ninja, even skipping breakfast to ensure you wouldn't run into him until it was time – teatime.

About an hour before the big moment, you crept towards Levi's office. Hiding in the shadows just around the corner, you waited patiently, listening intently to the sound of Levis footsteps as he disappeared into Erwin's office. When you were certain he was out of sight, you emerged from the shadows with a mischievous grin.

"Time to get out the good stuff."

You darted across the hallway to his door, eager to go inside and start the next phase of your plan. There was just one little problem – it was locked.

"No! Don't do this to me!" you implored the lock, but the door refused to budge, unsympathetic to your pleas. With a small, frustrated whine, you gave up. There wasn't any time to try this yourself – you'd need someone who was good with their hands.

Without hesitation, you started running, sprinting all the way to Hange's lab. You burst through the door with a dramatic little jump, but then couldn't get a word out, too busy catching your breath.

"Woah now, what's got you galloping in here like a wild stallion?" Hange asked you with a grin.

"Code… Purple," you gasped between breaths, alluding to the colors of the signal flares used during expeditions.

"An emergency, huh? Should we drop everything and panic, or can I help?"

"That depends," you panted. "Do you know how to pick a lock?"

Hange rolled up their sleeves. "Oh, you bet I do."

Next thing you knew, you were kneeling next to Hange on the floor in front of Levi's office, watching them rummage through the toolkit they brought along.

"Nice! This one should do the trick!" They inserted the small, makeshift pick into the lock, wriggling it around carefully. You could hear something shift inside, giving in to the deft movements of Hange's hands as they twisted and turned the pick just the right way.Click, then click again.

"Done!" Hange said with a triumphant grin, and pushed down the handle. The door swung open easily, making short shrift of the fortress that was Levi's office.

"You're a gem!" You flung your arms around their neck.

"More like a crook who steals gems, now that you've made me your partner in crime," they said conspiratorially, waggling their brows.

You giggled. "Don't pretend I'm a bad influence! There's no way this was your first time after what I've just witnessed."

"Maybe I'm just a natural," Hange said, feigning innocence.

"Nice try, but I'm not buying it."

"Okay, okay," Hange said, hands raised in mock surrender. "You got me. I'm a total scoundrel."

You giggled again. "And I'm so glad for that – this totally saved my butt. But now I really need to hurry!"

"Good luck!" Hange gathered up the evidence of your crime and winked at you. "This will be our little secret." Then they set off in the direction of their lab, whistling a jolly tune.

You cracked your knuckles. The game was on again.

– –

An exquisite fragrance filled the room as you gently lifted the infuser from the new teapot, having allowed it just the right amount of time for the flavors to fully unfold.

You took a brief moment to admire your work – the desk was adorned with a lavender tablecloth, in the center of which perched the new tea set in all its elegant glory. It was surrounded by dainty little plates of tea biscuits you had baked this morning, all of them shaped like tiny Levi's with a unique pose or outfit. Soft, flickering candles were scattered between them, casting a warm, inviting glow. Behind the table you had hung a handmade paper garland, spelling out 'Happy Birthday, Levi!' in bold, purple letters.

"Perfect!" You clapped your hands and put on one of the silly birthday hats you'd crafted, emblazoned with 'Squad Levi' in bold, and 'today only' in smaller letters beneath. You'd told everyone to put it on around teatime, though you doubted most would actually go along with it. There were special versions for Petra and the rest of the squad, replacing 'today only' with 'for reals'.

You headed for the door with an excited grin. It was time to fetch the birthday boy – wouldn't want the tea to get cold.

You ripped open the door to Erwin's office, shouting "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEVI!" at the top of your lungs.

A lot of heads turned your way – it wasn't just Levi in that room with Erwin. There was the entirety of his squad, and squad Mike, too. You gave them an awkward wave. A beat of silence passed. Then everyone started cheering and donning their birthday hats. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's adjourn this until tomorrow," Erwin said, also putting on his birthday hat.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Levi seemed to feel the same way. "Not you, too," he mumbled, but there was an almost imperceptible quirk to the corners of his mouth. Petra and Lynne practically swooned at the sight. Oluo bit his tongue, trying to imitate him. Nanaba just rolled her eyes.

Amid the chaos, you grabbed Levi's wrist. "I need to show you something," you said, pulling him along with you.

"It's in here." You pulled open the door to his office.

"Thought I locked that," Levi muttered.

You didn't reply, a huge grin spreading across your face instead. Stepping aside, you made a grand, sweeping motion towards the table, eager for him to see the fruits of your labor.

"Ta-da! Do you like it?" Not giving him any time to respond, you immediately added, "It's a tea set. For you. Made from the finest porcelain of the most supreme quality. I'd know, since I was there when it was made. For a part of it, anyway. It was so much fun!"

With a bright smile, you handed him one of the cups. He held it by the rim in that strange way he always did, and turned it in his hands, quietly studying the design. You watched him intently. There was a subtle raise to his eyebrows, and his lips were slightly parted.

"This must've been expensive," he said finally, his gray eyes meeting yours.

"Maaybe...“ you said. "But do you like it?"

"Of course I do," he said matter-of-factly, his gaze still fixed on you. "Don't be stupid."

"Yay!" You jumped with delight. "I'm so glad you do! Totally worth every penny, then. Only the best for my fellow tea lover."

Levi snorted. You snatched the cup from his hands.

"Time for tea," you said, solemnly pouring the hot liquid into the cup.

"I made biscuits, too." You passed him one of the small plates. He glanced at them, his brow furrowed.

"They're you by the way," you said happily.

"...I can see that."

"Aren't they absolutely adorable?" You popped one into your mouth. "Mmm."

"Tch. I can't believe you just ate me," Levi said wryly.

"Sure did! And I'll have you know you were absolutely delicious."

He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle. "Now that's just cruel."

You grinned. "Just try one, you'll see."

You selected a Levi in his cleaning get-up, wielding a tiny mob. "This one should clean your palate nicely." You chortled."Get it?"

Levi rolled his eyes. "After that shitty joke, I'll need something to clean my ears instead." But he ate the biscuit, anyway.

"That's so mean," you pouted. "It wasn't that bad."

"If you say so." Levi took a sip of his tea. His eyes widened. "That's... the tea from South Maria."

"Yep, you guessed it, just like I knew you would. A true connoisseur, through and through." You gave him a warm smile.

"But you only have so little of it," he murmured.

"True. That's why I saved it for a special occasion."

He huffed. "This hardly–"

You didn't even let him finish. "It's your birthday! If that's not a special occasion, then I don't know what is. Besides, there's no way I could've drunken it without you."

Levi set the cup down with a faint clink, then met your gaze, his eyes lingering on you just a little longer than usual. "Why?"

"Everything's more fun when you're around." You shrugged.

Something flashed in his eyes then, an involuntary flicker of something intense searing through his usual cool demeanor, but it was gone before you could fully catch it.

You suddenly felt a strange warmth spreading through you, not unlike the sensation of drinking hot tea, only it was in your chest. The unfamiliar feeling made you shift in your seat, unsure of its cause. You glanced up at Levi.

His mouth twitched, as though he might say something, but instead he just reached for his tea again. You took a sip of yours, too.

"Wow, it's even better than I thought! Out of this world delicious!" you exclaimed. The rich flavor encompassed your senses, and you closed your eyes to savor every last drop.

When you opened them again, Levi wore an expression you rarely saw on him. It was barely more than a subtle curve of his lips, but he was definitely smiling.

The warmth in your chest returned with a sudden lurch.

You absentmindedly brought a hand to your heart, bunching the fabric of your shirt in your fist.

"Right," you said, reaching behind you. "I made you a hat, too. You should put it o–"

"No."

"Didn't think so." You set the hat down on the table anyway. "I'll just put this here in case you change your mind."

Levi shot you a look that said everything: no chance in hell.

It made you giggle.

"Sooo... How do you like your birthday so far?" You clasped your hands under your chin. "I wasn't sure what you usually like to do on them, so I just kind of went with a tea party theme."

"Can't say I ever really celebrated my birthday before. So this is a first. But…" He paused, his gaze briefly softening. "It's… nice."

You couldn't help but smile, a wide grin forming on your face. "I'm so happy!"

"But don't think you won't have to clean this up later," Levi muttered.

"I know, I know." You both knew he'd end up helping, anyway.

A/n: Happy birthday, Levi! Thank you for giving me the motivation to start writing fanfic! (and to keep my place a little bit cleaner, lol.) Btw, I've also written a one-shot for LeviWeek, which will be out in a few days! Let me know if you wanna be tagged for it!

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn, @omlyurslvi

[probablyreadinsmut]

The Mrs Clause - Part Two

Jackson Joel Miller X Afab! Reader.

Read part one here

Here it is! Part two to this mini fic, I had wanted to get it done before Christmas but life and procrastination got in the way. Honestly I'm glad I waited and didn't rush it though. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and are enjoying the holidays and if you don't partake in the celebrations then I hope you're having a lovely week 💜

Warnings for part 2: Smut. MDNI.(For all my Joel Ho(e) Ho(e) Ho(e)s out there). Oral M+F receiving. Unprotected P in V (I expect y'all to do better, wrap it up like a present). Dirty talk. Joel is a quick draw. Squirting (if you squint). Praise. Folding you like a pretzel. Pussy and cock pronouns. Joel's a big boy. Fluff. Some love and appreciation for Joel's chompable ass. Mentions of loss. Joel is a sweetheart. Tommy can't sing for shit. Surprise at the end. Language (Swearing). Implied legal age gap, use your imaginations, reader existed before the apocalypse but there's no set age. No betas and I'm the worst at proofreading. I'm just here to practice writing and have fun.

Word Count: 5.3k

Credit for the cute little dividers goes to @strangergraphics 🎄

Kissing Joel was everything you'd dreamt it would be, feeling like you're floating, the entire world has gone silent, all you can hear is the slightly elevated thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears and the soft smack of his lips as they move with yours.

Neither of you have any idea how long you've been standing together like this, completely lost in each other. You can't think of anything but him and the way his hands feel on your back, gently caressing you through the velour Santa jacket he'd loaned you.

The way his beard scruff scrapes against your soft skin.

The way he smells, like pine and cinammon, mixed the sweet peppermint taste from all those candy canes he'd been snacking on over the course of the day.

The way his kiss is reverent but there's a tinge of something more behind it, a subtle heat that's threatening to escape from him.

The exhilarating combination of everything is making your head feel swimmy.

It's the squeels of kids outside the mess hall, engaging in an impromptu snowball fight, that finally snaps you both out of it, before you get too carried away. Honestly? It's probably a good thing, you felt like you were moments away from walking yourself backwards to one of the tables, letting him take you right here.

But you needed this reprieve. You didn't know if that's where he wanted this to go so quickly.

God knows that's what you wanted, but if he didn't and it spoiled the evening, you'd have been kicking yourself.

As you both pull back, lightly panting for breath, you both just stare at one another, letting out matching soft huffs of laughter.

"Well... That... I gotta say darlin'... That was probably top of my wish list for gifts this year." He says with a stupid goofy grin, to which you roll your eyes in amusement. "No no, really! Well... That and a well aged bottle of whiskey"

You shake your head with a small snort of laughter "Oh what an honour it is, hope you enjoyed it, 'cause you aren't getting another one"

He sticks his bottom lip out in a mocking pout. "Really? But I've been such a good boy this year" His hands are on your hips now, drawing small circles with his fingers over your clothes.

It's a lethal combination, he knows what he's doing. He's being anything but a good boy right now.

It's absolutely working, because the next words come tumbling out of your mouth in a flustered blurt. "Come back to my place?"

He knows he'd be a stupid man to say no to that.

Your heart is in your throat as you step over the threshold together. Joel shakes the fresh snow off himself almost like how a dog shakes themselves dry. He's so unintentionally funny sometimes, it actually calms your nerves a little.

Holding back a giggle, you head into the main living space, slipping off your heels with a small groan of relief, there was a reason you never wore these fucking things. Whoever designed them hated feet.

Meanwhile, he's taken the opportunity to do a little snooping, never having been in your house before, natural curiosity takes over.

A low whistle leaves him when he spots your record collection, it's tiny but it's there. "Didn't take ya for a Fleetwood fan" He grins as he raises the album up. "They're one of my favourites too, actually saw Stevie live back in the day"

"Someone's bragging, lucky bastard. I'm only a little jealous about that." your feigned non-chalonce and playful pout draws a chuckle from him, the sound of which has your heart skipping a beat.

Taking off the Santa jacket to hang it over the back of your couch, retrieving the carving from the pocket, you wander over to the mantleplace, setting it down to take pride of place in the centre, nestled between the one treasured photograph you have of your family and the candle you light when you're missing them. Lana is back where she belongs.

It's then that the gentle opening riffs of Landslide begin to play and you turn to see Joel watching you, with this soft smile and gooey eyes that make all your fears melt away. This bastard is a romantic. You hadn't expected that.

It a few short strides he's crossed the room, stopping in front of you. "May I have this dance?" He grins, outstretching his hand like the southern gentleman in him never left.

You don't hesitate to slip your hand into his and he doesn't hesitate to pull you closer, slipping his large hands around to rest flat against your lower back, your arms slide around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder as you begin to slowly sway together in the middle of your living room.

A small contented hum leaves him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, your hearts beating in a steady, matching rhythm. This - you realise, is what's mean missing from your life. Joel Miller. The secret romantic, the secret big softie. You were crushing on him even before, when you knew him as the stern and authoritative grump that you'd been partnered up with for patrols, but now in his arms like this? Now you felt like you were falling.

And you couldn't stop it even if you tried.

"Y'know..." he starts, his voice a low murmur "I can't remember the last time I danced with someone like this... Definitely not since before anyway... Probably at my high school prom actually"

You chuckle lightly, shifting to wrap your arms around him just a little tighter, not wanting this moment to end. Closing your eyes you try to picture young Joel all dressed up in a tux, swaying softly with a faceless date, you could imagine yourself at that age as his date.

You'd never had a prom, 18 year old you was too busy growing up in this new world, learning how to live without her family. Still it was nice to fantasize. But the reality was right here with you now, pretty sure he was the man of four dreams, as cliché as that sounded in your head. It didn't make it any less true.

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you meet his soft gaze, that same feeling you had earlier when the two of you were about to kiss under the mistletoe begins to swell within you, like a drumroll leading up to a big finish.

"I like you Joel... A hell of a lot actually. Probably too much." it's an admission that's been months in the making, always on the tip of your tongue when you're out on patrol together or when you find him at the Tipsy Bison drinking alone. You'd always been too chickenshit to admit it though, he seemed like he enjoyed being alone but there was always a part of you that thought perhaps he did it as a defence mechanism.

Keep your circle small, less chance of getting hurt. You could respect that. Everyone had lost something in this world, he was no exception to the rule.

"I like you too darlin'. It's... Fuckin' terrifying actually. Last person I had any kind of feelin's for she..." He cuts himself off, throat bobbing as he takes a moment to think about Tess, it wasn't conventional love, he'd never said it to her, she'd never said it to him but he knew deep down what it was to both of them. "...Well, I don't think I need to say more about that. You know."

And you do, you can see it in his eyes, the pain as he's thinking about a lost love. This world had taken so much from everyone.

"I do.. S-so I get it, if you don't want this to be anything more than just tonight or... or if you want to stop right now and go home." As much as it pains you to say, the last thing you'd want is for him to feel pressured to let you into his life, to become one more person inside that small circle of his, but what you don't know is that you're already in it.

He just stares blankly at you for a moment like that's the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "What? No. No, no. Don't get me wrong, like I said I'm fuckin' terrified but-" He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the gentleness of his touch a sweet opposite to the rough persona he gives off "-but, I do want this. Make no mistake about that. I'm all in darlin'"

From there it starts slow, kissing unhurriedly in the living room, savouring each other. Eventually you'd begun to undress each other on the stairs, laughing together when Joel tripped up a step as he attempted to chase you up them, his tshirt discarded with reckless abandon over the bannister.

It didn't take long for things to heat up once he'd got you into your bedroom, kissing and nipping at your neck as he helped you out of your skirt while you tugged down those ridiculous Santa pants, though you were still questioning how those made you feel.

Soon enough you're both on your bed, naked and tangled up together in a heated frenzy of kisses, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating your bodies through the crack in the curtains.

It had been a while for you, not since the last QZ you were in before Jackson and if the warmth of pre cum oozing onto your thigh is anything to go by, it's been a while for him too.

"Okay--" he pulls back slightly, resting his forearms either side of your head, his breathing ragged with desire as he gazes down at you "-If we don't slow down a 'lil I'm gonna blow my load before we've even started darlin' that's the gods honest truth"

A soft giggle leaves you, lazily raking your nails up and down his bare back, feeling the way he shivers under your touch. "As hot as that is." It really is, the fact that he's so worked up just from kissing and some heavy petting, makes you feel like some kind of goddess right now. That you could get a man like Joel Miller, ruthless-prickly-antisocial to just about everyone else in this town-Joel Miller, well that has you positively weak at the knees. "I really would like you to fuck me first before that happens"

A low groan leaves him at your words and his brain just about short circuits, he's heard you swear plenty of times out on patrol but what you just said was legitimately the best Christmas gift he could ask for.

"Ohhhh darlin'" He drawls in that smooth timbre that has your pussy clenching around nothing "I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep talking like that, I'm probably not gonna last long as it is." He lowers down to press slow, warm open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his time now "But I intend. To make sure. That you. Enjoy yourself first." it's murmured against your skin between kisses, his breath hot against your collarbone as you register the featherlight skim of his fingers on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, rubbing in languide circles as he coaxes it to peak.

He takes his time on your breasts when he finally does get to them with his lips, sucking one into his mouth, working it over with his tongue, the bastard even has the audacity to look up at you through those dark lashes, grinning with your nipple in his mouth. It's sinful how good he looks like this. A complete 180 from the soft man who was playing Santa just a few hours ago.

Now he's lavishing your tits with such expertise that has you sure that he's definitely on the naughty list.

Every little gasp that falls from your lips and writhe under him has him reading you like a book, quickly learning your cues as if he were memorizing directions. Mentally mapping your body out.

Once he's sure you're a mess for him, he pulls off your breast with a wet pop, dragging his lips down your abdomen, his stubble tickling at the sensitive flesh there, a breathy chuckle leaving you. You're ticklish. Another little fact about you that he'll happily store away for safe keeping.

As his lips move past your hips, burying his face in the wirey curls of your mound, inches away from your aching cunt, your legs part on instinct, his arms moving to hook underneath your thighs, holding you open for him.

"Fuuuuuuck sweetheart, look at this pretty little pussy. This mess all for me huh?" His breath fans across your pussy as he speaks, you're resting on your forearms looking down your body at him, appreciating the curve of his ass behind him, very biteable, yum.

The dirty talk doesn't even surprise you, just by the way he carries himself in his day to day life you already had a hunch he'd be like this, all tender and sweet when he wants to be, but as filthy as they come between the sheets.

"C'mon babygirl, use your words, wanna hear you say who this..." He swipes his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal before he brings it to his lips, tongue darting out to taste you on his fingers "...Sweet little cunt belongs to, holy fuck you taste so good"

His reaction has your wetness pooling beneath you, you're absolutely soaked right now and there's no hiding it from him. "You Joel. I'm yours, please..."

"Don't need to ask me twice darlin'" With that he ducks his head down, licking a slow stripe up from your entrance to your clit, an obscenely hot growl leaving him as your essence hits his tastebuds at full force.

You mewl and arch beneath him, his big hands gripping your thighs to keep you open. He starts slow at first, swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue in practiced patterns, just as you think he's sticking to a rhythm of left to right, he switches it up and goes in circles.

It's threatening to drive you to insanity. Edging you closer to release before he pulls it back, drawing this out longer, you realise quick enough. You're not usually this quick to approach climax but that's because you're on your own. Now however, he has complete control over you and he knows it.

The moan you let out when his tongue breeches you is obscene, you feel the mattress rock a little, lifting your head just enough to see him rutting into it. "Careful... You'll- oh fuck... Make yourself cum" That's all you can manage to get out before you throw your head back with a gasp, your hands flying into his hair holding him firm against you. He's let go of one of your thighs, bringing his thumb to your clit, circling it with a delicious pressure that makes all your self given orgasms pale in comparison.

A deep rumble of laughter bubbles up from his throat as he feels your velvety walls begin to spasm around his tongue. He'll stop teasing you now, he wants nothing more than to taste that sweet honey of yours, that and his dick is throbbing so hard it's verging on painful, all those little noises you've been making are addictive.

His hips still against the mattress as he focuses all his energy on you now, pressing just that little bit firmer against your clit as his tongue curls and fucks your tight heat. You feel the mixture of his saliva and your juices making a mess under you, trickling down your ass. You know his beard will be coated too.

"J-joel- oh... F-fuck. Mmm. Gonna- oh god!!"

Thighs trembling either side of his head, if he didn't have you spread open with his big hand on your thigh, you're sure you'd be clamping them around him by now, threatening to suffocate him as your release wracks through you. As it is, you're holding him steady against your pussy and he's more than happy to work you through it, groaning out as he laps up every last drop.

As the trembles begin to subside, he starts his way back up your body, kissing every curve and valley along the way until his looming over you once more, grinning down at you with pride, his chin glistening with your glossy fluids.

"Bet you're- so fucking pleased with yourself huh?" The breathless tone has his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

"Damn right I'm proud of myself. Got her nice and wet f'me, prolly gonna be able to slide right in." He coos as he reaches down between you, teasing his cock through your folds, up and down, over your swollen clit and back again to nudge at your entrance, over and over again. "I'm warnin' you darlin', I really ain't gonna last long. 'Specially if you're gonna be makin' all those noises f'me"

"Joel. Do you think I care? You just gave me the best head of my life. What I need right now..." You pause as you slide further down the pillows to lay flat against the mattress, knees bent, wide open as he kneels between them "...Is your fat cock inside me. Got it?"

A sly smirk stretches across his lips, hearing you talk dirty is quickly becoming one of his favourite things. "Yes ma'am, I hear ya loud and clear".

With that he wastes no more time, notching himself at your entrance, slowly sinking into you. Both of you groan in unison and that's just from the first couple of inches. Joel's a big man. You don't need to see his cock to know that, not when you can feel the sweet sting and stretch, even if he had made you soaked enough that he could just thrust into you with one powerful jerk of his hips but he knows he'd risk cumming too fast and he doesn't want to hurt you. Fully aware that his size can be a challenge.

"Fuck darlin'... Look at you... Takin' me so good. That's not even all of me. Think you can take more?"

You nod dumbly and he takes this as his cue to kick things up a notch, grabbing your calves as he pushes your knees back until they're against your chest, practically folding you in half. The new angle allows him to feed the rest of his cock into you, hitting deep when he's fully sheathed.

His plush bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as his gaze is fixed between you, watching as he begins to move. Pulling back until he's almost all the way out before he plunges deep back in again. The slow drag of his cock over your g-spot has you gasping already. Over and over until he starts to pick up the pace.

Leaning down, your legs either side of his shoulders as his hands are planted firmly either side of you. You know you're both going to be feeling this tomorrow but right now you don't fucking care, this feels too good, he feels too good.

"Joel!" You whimper and sob under him, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this, the way his teeth are gritted together, the knot of his brow as he's focusing on not cumming yet. He's not being rough by any means but the slap of flesh on flesh is constant, fast, deep and hard. It's as if he knew that's how you liked it.

"I know sugar. Not yet. Need ya t'cum again f'me first. I know y'can. Can... Ohhh christ... Feel ya... Grippin' me like a fuckin' vice! Need ya t'cum f'me again." He's barely holding himself together, the way his voice is strained. He angles his hips a little more to the point where he knows that with every thrust you'll be feeling a grind against your poor sensitive clit. He knows it'll get you there faster.

You're so stretched out and folded right now that you feel like all the air in your lungs is being knocked out of you with every lunge of his hips. Your breaths coming out in short sharp gasps as your fingers blindly claw at the sheets, feeling so full of him to the point where it's almost overwhelming.

Every noise you're making drives him just that little bit closer but he wants nothing more than to feel you shatter around his cock first. He needs it and he gets it. With a strangled cry of his name your second orgasm hits you, saturating his cock with your release to the point where it's dripping down his thighs.

"Fuck... Fuck... Fuck."

He fucks you through it, just barely restraining himself from cumming inside you, as soon as the flutters stop, he pulls out, jerking his cock as few times until he's spilling out onto your stomach, coating your skin with his warm, sticking spend, groaning lowly as he does so.

When the tremors of post coital bliss begin to subside, that's when the leg cramp hits, he'd let go of one of your calves before but the other is still firmly in his grip, your knee is still pressing against your chest.

"Joel. Ah. Leg cramp, leg cramp" You tap his arm to get his attention, and he scrambles to let you go, carefully helping your knee to straighten back out.

"Sorry about that, Darlin' you okay?" He asks with a tender stroke of his thumb across your leg, finding the cramp he helps to massage it away.

"Yeah I'm okay" You huff out a little laugh "Not sure I'm built for positions like that for an extended period of time though, don't get me wrong, that was fucking amazing and we will be doing that again"

He let's go of your leg when he feels the tension ease, coming to lean down over you, giving you the gentlest, sweetest kiss ever before he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "Damn right we will sweetheart. Right now though? Need to get ya all cleaned up. Stay put."

He climbs out of bed, naked as the day he was born and you can't help but admire his back profile, broad shoulders flexing in the moonlight, dimples in his lower bsck and that ass. The one you'd been admiring in his jeans every time you'd been out on patrol together. It's even better in the flesh.

"You say that as if I have the energy to move right now anyway!" You call out and he grins over his shoulder at you, knowing he did that to you. Even at 57 years old, he can still give the younger guys a run for their money.

The rest of that night is spent sleeplessly, you're either talking and joking or you're back to exploring each other's bodies, finding what makes each other tick. It surprises you, the stamina that he does have but you're damn happy about it, most men would have fallen asleep and called it a night after round one. Not Joel Miller though.

By the time either of you actually bother to look at the clock it's nearly 4am. You'd both been so swept up in everything that you hadn't even realised how much the time had gotten away from you.

Both of you had collapsed into a sated, blissful heap together after you'd decided you just had to ride him. Your bodies are entangled in a sweaty, sticky sheen but neither of you cares right now.

"Best. Christmas. Ever" He gets out as he plants soft little kisses to your cheek, you can feel his heart thundering in his chest, just like yours is.

"Can say that again. Guess Christmas came early huh? Among other things." That last remark earns you a playful jab to your side, ellicitng a squeel from you.

"You tease but I didn't hear you complainin', in fact I remember you were all too happy not to waste a drop" You'd gone down on him soon after your first round the second he was able to get hard again, he'd been so sensitive from his first release that all it took was a few minutes before he was cumming down your throat.

"You got me there, Miller." You grin as you shift onto your front, laying at his side with your feet gently kicking back and forth in the air, admiring his handsome features. He smiles back at you, taking in your beautiful face bathed in the moonlight, fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. "Joel?"

"Yes darlin'?"

"Can I ask you something? It's... It's about something I noticed at the grotto."

His fingers still for a moment, tilting his head in curiosity about what you're going to ask. "Shoot. Ask away"

"I... Well you were so good with the kids today. It was really sweet but- there was this one little girl? I noticed you looked kind of sad?"

The look on his face makes you regret asking almost instantly, you recognise the pain there. That same pain he'd had earlier when briefly touching on someone else he'd lost, the same pain that you recognise reflecting back at you in the mirror sometimes.

"Its okay if you don't want to-"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head shallowly as he takes a moment to collect himself, opening them back up to look at you with a small sad smile. "No... No, S'okay. I can talk about it. There was a time when I couldn't but... I can now. And I want to tell you everything. I mean everything. Is that okay with you, sweetheart?"

You slide your hand across his chest to rest over his heart, feeling the comforting steady thrum of it beneath your fingertips. "Whatever you're willing to share Joel, then I'm happy to listen."

He trusts you. He really fucking likes you. Even before tonight he'd felt like he was falling for you but now he's sure he is.

And so he does. He tells you everything.

All of it. Sparing no details about Ellie and the fireflies, about her immunity and what happened in Salt Lake City.

About what he and Tommy used to do after the world collapsed.

About Tess and the complicated relationship they shared.

And about Sarah. His babygirl that he'd lost on day one.

It all then makes sense to you why he is the way that he is with Ellie and why he keeps his circle so small.

One year later

'Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away.'

Whoever had convinced Tommy to get up on stage and sing Wham either needed a slap or they needed to be bought a drink, you couldn't decide.

It's Christmas Eve, this year Tommy and Maria had decided to host Karaoke night for the community, almost everyone was here, sitting around at the bar or at tables wincing every time Tommy tried to hit a high note.

You'd lost count how many times Joel had mumbled 'I fuckin' hate karaoke' under his breath beside you, looking like he wanted someone to put a bullet in him.

"So that's a no to getting up on stage with me hm?" You tease as you sip your drink through the little straw.

"Firm no."

"Oh c'mon not even Elton John and Kiki Dee!?" He shoots you a look that you know all too well by now, one that says, 'If you keep teasin' I'm going to ruin you the second we get home'. The heated glare has you weak at the knees, half tempted to keep prodding the bull but you don't get a chance.

Ellie and Dina come running over to your table to plop themselves in front of the two of you, all grins and wide excited eyes.

"What's got the two of you so worked up?" You ask with a suspicious chuckle.

Ellie twists her lips coyly "Nothing! Hey Joel you know that thing? It's ready."

"Oh that's cryptic. What thing? What's she talking about?" You turn to Joel with confusion etched on your face.

"Subtle Ellie, real subtle. Didn't I tell ya to work on that?"

It's then that Tommy finishes his song, finally and takes the mic in his hand, tapping it a few times to get everyone's attention, the feedback making some of the patrons groan.

"Alrighty folks, need y'all to get yer coats on now cos we've got one more special even planned for tonight, other than my wonderful singing that is."

The curious mumbles rise from the crowd, Joel is quick to pull you to stand, urging you to get your jacket on as the girls both dash back outside into the snow.

Everyone files out slowly, Joel keeps his hand firmly in yours as he pushes through the crowd with murmered sorrys and 'scuse me's. You have no idea what's going on right now or why Ellie and Dina smiling ear to ear just a few feet ahead.

With the crowd gathered, you and Joel at the very front, you feel his hand shaking in yours.

"Baby is everything okay, what's going o-"

Before you can even get your words out there's a small squeel and a fizz before a rocket goes flying into the air, your eyes following the noise, lighting up when you see the burst of colours against the night sky.

Fireworks in vivid shades of red, blues and greens in the distance, beyond the walls of Jackson.

Momentarily panicking that the noise might attract unwanted attention to the town, but it's over as quick as it began because out of the corner of your eye you see him, sinking down onto one knee, letting out a small groan that reveals his bones are older than he likes to pretend he is.

You gawp down at him with wide, unblinking eyes The whole town is now watching the two of you "Joel. What are you doing?"

"Whats it look like I'm doin'? And if you say no you'll be makin' me look like an ass in front of the entire town, you have any idea how long it took to get this fireworks thing rigged up far enough away so it doesn't cause a fuss?" He half chuckles as he digs a small box out of his pocket, saying your name slowly as he opens it to reveal a simple silver band with tiny little emeralds set into it.

The smallest of gasps leaves you, realising hes about to propose in front of the whole fucking town.

And then he says the words you've been longing to hear. "Will you marry me?"

Without missing a beat you give him his answer "Are you fucking kidding me!? Yes!" You sink to your knees in the snow, throwing your arms around him almost catching him off balance with an oof.

His free arm snakes around your waist holding you close to him as he buries his face in your neck.

You hear the whistles and cheers from the crowd but right now it all may as well be background noise because all you hear is his whispered words as he slips the ring onto your finger, it fits like a glove much to his joy. "I love you so fuckin' much, Merry Christmas baby."

Your eyes are glittering with unshed happy tears as you respond "Merry Christmas Joel."

You're going to spend the rest of your life with this man. This Christmas and every Christmas thereafter.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

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