#I WAS SO EXCITED. I AM COMMITTED TO DOING A WHOLE MINOR ON THIS

[un-pearable]

bad hotel wifi means i can’t do my first GIS assignment properly and now i’m just sitting here like this woefully waiting 3-5 mins btwn inputting the answer to each question i got from a friend so it looks legit

[claramelooo]

HEYYY! It's me again! I'm so happy with all the support words and the great proportion this story is taking that I got excited and I just want write more and more to you guys!! (I'm vacations btw lol)

First of all, I would like to say that I don't know much about the US admission system, so if I got it wrong, please correct me.

Second, if you have any suggestions to improve the story's progress or speed up my writing, feel free to contact me.

Last but not least: enjoy it and comment plsss <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Dom Wanda x Brat Fem reader

WARNING: +18

Summary : Wanda wraps you in the web she has created.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 – Predator | Part 3 - On your knees

Velvet Chains

The Prey

It was around 3 a.m., and Wanda sighed, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. The silence was broken only by the lazy whirring of the fan. Vision lay asleep beside her, turned away, breathing deeply. The space between them on the bed felt like an unbridgeable chasm. She turned her head to look at him for a moment but felt a weight in her chest as she realized there was no warmth there, no real connection.

Sex with Vision had always been… functional, almost mechanical. It was always about him—his needs, his desires. There were moments when she tried to convince herself that this was normal, that love was above all a commitment, but nights like this made it clear: something was terribly wrong.

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, trying to push away the frustration building up inside her. It wasn’t just the sex. It was everything. The suffocating predictability, the lack of intensity, the absence of something she had never been able to name but missed with an almost painful ferocity.

And then there was you.

The memory of your face, the way you looked at her during dinner, came rushing back like a storm. Your eyes held a mix of defiance and uncertainty—something Wanda couldn’t get out of her mind. Since seeing you, there had been a growing need inside her, something primal and overwhelming. It wasn’t just desire—though that was undeniable. It was the way you made her feel, as if she were alive for the first time in years.

Wanda sat up in bed, running her hands through her hair, frustrated with herself. It was wrong. That much was obvious. You were young, inexperienced—a delicate soul who deserved freedom, not the weight of the obsession she felt growing inside her.

But the more she tried to rationalize, the more inevitable it seemed. There was something about you—your innocence mixed with a quiet resilience, as if the world couldn’t break you, no matter how hard it tried. It was hypnotic. She wanted to shape you, to dominate your strength and fragility all at once, to explore every nuance of you until there was nothing left to hide.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to stifle the thoughts.

“This has to stop,” she murmured to herself. “This isn’t who I am.”

But the truth was, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. With Vision, with the life she had built—it all felt so distant, so colorless. And then you appeared, and the entire world gained a new vibrancy, an intensity she hadn’t realized she craved until she felt it.

She looked at Vision again, still turned away, still oblivious to the storm raging beside him. For a moment, Wanda felt a wave of guilt, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Because the reality was clear: she would never feel whole with Vision.

The clock read 3:23 a.m. when Wanda slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. She needed space, needed to think, but she knew that every step she took was leading her deeper into dangerous territory—a path of no return.

Reaching the living room, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey—Vision only drank it to celebrate work promotions—and took a swig straight from the bottle, hoping to drown out the chaotic thoughts of you, of Vision, of herself.

But they didn’t go away.

As the alcohol coursed through her veins, Wanda felt her body float. And then, she felt ready to do something she had never done before. With trembling hands from adrenaline and excitement, Wanda picked up her laptop from the coffee table and searched for what had been on her mind since the moment she first laid eyes on you.

The video was artificial, the expressions of pleasure fake, the moans hollow. But the scene itself sparked Wanda’s imagination.

She pictured you moaning beneath her as she slid a good, thick strap inside your tight little pussy, pinning your arms above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. She imagined slapping your pretty face until you gave in, sticking your tongue out to accommodate her fingers, letting her lubricate them before slowly sliding them into your tight little ass, driving you wild.

Denying you orgasms until you begged her with teary, pleading eyes. Pushing you until you finally said the one word you so desperately needed to say—and that she so desperately needed to hear.

Wanda also fantasized about riding your face, making you drown in her wet pussy, suffocating on her juices. Marking your neck and chest with bruises she would proudly touch the next day.

These thoughts alone were enough to make Wanda forget the adult film on her screen and focus entirely on you. Her fingers worked diligently over her clit, her body trembling as the signs of orgasm built within her. Moments later, she came, her eyes rolling back, her legs shaking.

Oh, fuck. She had to have you soon.

 [...]

The city library was a sanctuary of sacred silence, where whispered voices mingled with the soft rustle of turning pages. You had returned to the country with a single purpose: to study. Your mother never missed a chance to remind you that your bright future hinged on a prestigious university. But after everything, Yale felt like an unattainable dream.

Not anymore.

You still had a chance to transfer and adapt to a new routine—though adjusting had never been hard for you. You’d spent your 18th birthday alone, blowing out the candle on a strawberry cupcake someone had given you, wishing for the power to change your life.

And now, here it was.

Determined, you worked tirelessly to achieve an excellent GPA, nurtured relationships with your professors, and spent the remaining months meticulously preparing your early decision application.

Then came the waiting—waiting and waiting for that damn call. Time passed. You turned 20—too old for a Christian boarding school, too young to face the world—and found yourself staring out of the same window.

When your father finally called, his expressionless voice carried the weight of your shattered dreams.

And now, here you were, standing before an old building with beautiful architecture that probably held some intriguing history. With a pile of notebooks and a battered binder in hand, you pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the library's main hall. The comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood enveloped you.

The plan was straightforward: find a corner, avoid distractions, and lose yourself in formulas, essays, and reading lists for the next few hours.

But fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As soon as you entered, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone—that made your stomach churn. Behind the lending counter stood Wanda Maximoff.

She wore thin glasses that only accentuated the intensity of her piercing gaze. Her hair was tied back haphazardly, loose strands framing her face. When you walked in, she looked up, and a dangerous spark flashed in her eyes—something intense, hypnotic, and unnervingly expectant.

It was as though she’d known you were coming.

You felt the shift in the atmosphere before you could process it. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction—dangerous, predatory.

"Oh, my, my… What a surprise," Wanda murmured, her voice low and sweet, yet carrying an underlying weight that twisted your stomach. She left her computer and moved toward you, hands clasped in front of her like she owned the place.

You cursed softly.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Dekta?” she asked, her accent curling around your name in a way that made your core tighten despite your best efforts.

“I’m here to study.”

“Ah, yes… Yale, isn’t it?” Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer, making your fists clench at your sides. “Your parents mentioned it,” she mused. “I admire ambition—though ambition without focus is a waste, don’t you think?”

Your eyes narrowed. "I have focus."

She took another step closer, her presence suffocating. “Do you now?”

“I’m not a child, Wanda,” you snapped—perhaps a bit too loudly for a space that demanded quiet.

For a brief moment, her pupils expanded, eclipsing the green in her eyes. If you weren’t so innocent, you might have seen the excitement pooling in her gaze. But you felt it—the way your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your bra.

Her expression shifted, the intensity replaced by a false, sugary smile.

“Oh, of course, because you’re such a big girl now, aren’t you?” Wanda tilted her head, her tone deceptively kind but dripping with condescension. Her eyes seemed to dissect you, reading your every reaction like an open book.

“I’m an adult,” you retorted, forcing your voice to remain steady. “I don’t need anyone treating me like I’m still in a school uniform.”

Wanda’s steps were deliberate as she sidled past you, gesturing lazily to a nearby table. “An adult, you say? Funny, because what I see…” Her gaze swept over you and then to the table, “…is a little girl with big dreams, crumbling at the slightest challenge.”

Your entire body tensed. You loathed the way she spoke to you, as though she had the right to dissect your maturity.

“You don’t know me,” you shot back, defensive.

“Don’t I?” She raised an eyebrow, her smile slow and menacing. “Then why are you trembling, Dekta?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words caught in your throat. She was right. Your hands, clutching the binder, were trembling slightly, your heart pounding too fast.

Wanda noticed. Of course, she noticed.

“See?” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice soothing yet laced with control as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Adult or not, you still have a lot to learn.” Her words dropped to a murmur, almost too soft to hear: “And I’ll teach you everything.”

Before you could react, Wanda straightened, creating distance as she adjusted her glasses—a deliberate motion that left you inexplicably yearning for her touch again.

“Now, find your table and study. Show me this sharp ambition of yours.”

“You don’t control me,” you snapped, anger flaring briefly.

She chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, Dekta… I don’t have to. You’re already doing exactly what I want.”

With that, she turned and walked back to the counter, leaving you trembling and unsettled, as though you’d just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

After 40 minutes of calming down and trying to stop thinking about the woman, you finally manage to focus and regain control of your thoughts. Math had always been something very abstract to you, perhaps even more so than philosophy. There was something about numbers that seemed to elude the logic of your brain, as if every equation were a puzzle with its solution written in a language you couldn't quite comprehend.

You sigh, your eyes fixed on the book's page, where a series of elegantly aligned formulas stared back at you with an almost cruel indifference. It had always been this way. Essays were your forte—your words flowed like a river, structured and persuasive, but numbers? They slipped through your fingers like sand.

With the pencil in your hand, you begin to scribble what seemed to be the first step toward a solution, but your mind soon wavers. Math, with all its precision, left little room for intuition. Every mistake was exposed, every misstep impossible to hide. You had always hated that.

Suddenly, Wanda's presence invades your thoughts again, like a shadow you can't escape. The way she looked at you, as if she knew exactly where your weaknesses lay. Worse, as if she was willing to exploit them.

You shake your head, trying to banish her image, but it’s useless. It’s as if she were still there, standing behind you, watching, waiting for you to fail.

And maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"Okay," you whisper to yourself, turning the page of the notebook with more determination. "This isn't about her. This is about me."

Your strength had always been your ability to adapt and overcome challenges. No matter how impossible something seemed, you had an inner resilience that kept you trying. That was what made you special, even when everything seemed against you.

But that strength came at a price. You were stubborn, almost obsessive, and the idea of failing—for yourself, for your parents, for Wanda—was intolerable. That need to prove your worth, to be good enough, was both a gift and a curse.

Feeling a touch on your shoulder, you jump as if you’d been shocked. Looking at the hand that touched you, it belonged to an elderly woman with a friendly expression on her face.

"Looks like your study session was productive, right?" the lady asked in a voice trembling with age. You simply nodded, still confused by the sudden approach. "But I must inform you, dear. We’re closing now."

"Oh. Yes, of course… I’m sorry," you said as you stood, hastily packing your belongings. "I didn’t even notice the time." You offered an embarrassed explanation.

The lady just laughed, sweetly.

"It's all right! Wanda asked us not to disturb you," she said as if it were nothing, but for you… you felt your pulse quicken with your heartbeat, felt your heart warm at Wanda's indirect gesture.

You looked around, hoping Wanda would appear again to provoke you—to make you surrender to her dominant aura.

But with a click, the library lights turned off, leaving you alone with your confused thoughts.

Letting out a tired sigh, you enter your house. Today had been exhausting, but your mind was at peace from finally breaking out of your loop of procrastination and self-sabotage. It was draining, but it was gratifying—enough to make you proud of yourself.

Arriving in the living room, you see your mother smiling, which makes you raise an eyebrow at her unusual gesture. Noticing you, she stood up, laughing.

"Sweetheart! Come here!" she called, making grand gestures that filled the room.

As you reached the center of the living room, you saw her.

There she was. Wanda Maximoff, sitting in your living room as if she owned the place. Her posture was impeccable—relaxed, but not sloppy. Long legs crossed, her expression composed. She held a teacup in her left hand, her long fingers resting on the porcelain as if it were a luxury item.

Your heart raced. You froze in the doorway, looking from your mother to Wanda and back to your mother.

“Oh, sweetheart, finally!” your mother exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm. "I can hardly believe our luck. Wanda offered to help you with your studies! You know how much I worry about your preparation for Yale, and now she's willing to guide you!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Everything felt like a blur. Wanda? The woman who had just turned your afternoon into an emotional whirlwind? Now she was here, in your house, looking more dangerous than ever?

"I simply did what anyone would," Wanda replied, her voice soft but firm. The tone carried a duality: apparent humility, but a pride you could feel beneath the surface. She rose slowly, placing the teacup on the coffee table. Her gaze met yours, and you felt that same shiver from the library.

"Good evening, Dekta," she said with an intonation that made your skin tingle. “I hope you don’t mind my visit. Your mother and I were discussing how I might be helpful for your academic ambitions.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, trying to keep your composure. “Thank you so much for your help, Wanda.”

Wanda smiled, a small, calculated smile. There was no genuine warmth in it, only something... satisfying. As if she were celebrating an invisible victory.

"In fact," she continued, taking a step closer to you, "I thought we could make this mutually beneficial. Your studies require dedication, and I noticed you have potential. In exchange for my guidance, perhaps you could help me a few hours a week at the library. There are tasks that require... youthful energy."

Your mother seemed more than thrilled with the idea. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? You’d spend more time learning, in such an inspiring environment!”

You knew you had no choice. Your mother was already beaming, and any refusal would be a family disaster. But above that, there was Wanda, with that look that seemed to pierce your soul, as if she knew that deep down, you didn’t want to refuse either.

"Sure," you finally replied, trying to sound neutral. “That sounds great.”

Wanda took a small step back, satisfied. "Excellent. We’ll start tomorrow."

Your mother clapped her hands, excited. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart! And so grateful, Wanda, for being willing to help my baby.”

Hearing your mother’s last words, Wanda’s body tensed, clearly disliking the way she referred to you.

Wanda looked at you again, placing a light smile on her face, but her eyes... they had an almost predatory gleam.

“It will be my pleasure,” she said, but you knew there was much more to that phrase than your mother could understand. "Well, it’s late, and I still need to put Tommy and Billy to bed. S/n, would you walk me to the door?"

Finally, you snapped out of your trance upon hearing your name. "O-of course."

As the older woman passed through the door, she turned to look at you again, her eyes gleaming. “You looked beautiful today, darling.”

The compliment made you blush, and the air felt thin, making it hard to breathe.

“Hmm, what do we say when we’re complimented, Dekta?” Wanda broke your trance once again, touching your chin in a firm grip, forcing you to look at her.

"Thank you, Wanda," you replied softly, in an almost submissive tone. Almost. The exhaustion of the day weighed on your shoulders, and Wanda’s sweet voice left you weak, hypnotizing you and slowly turning you into a needy kitten.

"Good girl." She caressed your face with her fingertips, almost as if you were a raw diamond—precious and ready to be shaped. By her. By her hands.

You hadn’t noticed—perhaps due to exhaustion—but Wanda's hands were trembling. The woman trembled as she touched you, as she felt the warmth emanating from your fragrant, untouched skin. Wanda felt blessed, as if finally that scared kitten was learning to trust her.

"We’ll see each other tomorrow, yes? Good night, beautiful girl." She didn’t want to say goodbye to you. She wanted to stay, make you kneel, rest your head on her lap, and stroke the top of your head to hear you purr.

The mark she left on you lingered until you fell asleep, embedding itself under your skin, making you dream of her, of her floral scent—it was something citrusy. Orange? Lemongrass, perhaps? The fragrance clung to your body, your mind, and suddenly, Yale seemed like a distant dream, and Wanda was the only thing you could dream about.

~*~

Poor S/n... A milf caught her.

Tag list <3

@rosekjsses @vyvvycg @3liyuh

If I forget someone, pls remind me in the comments!

[gingiesworld]

Fatal Attraction

Chapter One

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings : Fluff. Angst.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda Maximoff, was known as Jarvis Stark's new wife, and NYU graduate, that was all. Once Jarvis had gotten a job at his father's company, Wanda had quickly adjusted to the stay at home housewife. Even after she had done her morning chores and meal preps, she wasted a majority of the day either sitting on the sofa watching TV or just staring out of the window at the bustling city below. Even her latest conversations with Jarvis made her want to retreat from him.

"I think we should try for a baby." He told her as her eyes widened.

"What?" She almost yelled across the table from him.

"We're married now." He stated.

"Barely." She told him as he shrugged.

"I have a steady job and income, we can provide for a baby Wanda." He smiled at her as she shook her head no.

"I don't want a baby Vis." She told him firmly. "I am not ready for that sort of commitment."

"We're already married, Wanda." He told her sternly as Wanda started to clear the table. "I think not being ready for commitment has already passed."

"No." She told him as she squeezed her eyes closed. "Being married is different to starting a family. We are both 22 for crying out loud."

"All the more reason to do it." He told her. "By the time they will be off to college we will just be pushing passed 40, an age to start living our lives again."

"I said no Jarvis." She snarled as he just sighed.

"Just think about it." He requested before he retreated to their shared room. Wanda knew exactly how she felt about the whole children's situation.

Did she see herself as a mother at some point? Yes, just not right now. Not when she has a lot of living to do.

So she made it her mission to reject every advance Jarvis had made. Denying his every need to have intimacy with her. She couldn't really sneakily go on birth control as they now had shared health insurance.

So she had done the next best thing, she had made several resumes and sent them out to multiple organisations, hoping that she may just get herself a job and a way to earn her own money and not have to rely on Jarvis's family fund.

Every day she checked the mail, hoping that she may get an acceptance letter, only receiving polite rejection letters.

"I bet you're going to tell me what the others have said huh?" She questioned as she sat with the envelope in her hand. Taking a deep breath before opening the letter and reading the black ink.

Dear Ms Maximoff

Thank you for your resume, and I am afraid that all departments have been filled. Although, I do have an assistant about to go on maternity leave. It is only a temporary position. If you may be interested, please contact me as soon as possible.

Many regards

Y/N Y/L/N

CEO

Wanda was fast to dial up the number provided, although she had waited for half an hour until she was put through to Y/N.

"Y/N Y/L/N, how may I help you?" They answered.

"Hi, Mx Y/L/N, it's Wanda Maximoff." She rambled nervously. "I was just calling up about the temp position you have available?"

"Hi, Ms Maximoff." They spoke cheerfully. "I do have a full week this week but maybe if you can stop by the office at noon? I have 30 minutes spare for lunch if you're free to do your interview then."

"Yes." Wanda answered excitedly. "Of course."

"Perfect." They answered her. "I shall see you at noon. Don't be late." With that they hung up, just before Wanda squealed. She was excited to have a job prospect so soon, but her excitement didn't last too long when Jarvis came inside with one of her resumes in his hand.

"You know, we have been looking to fill some spots in our tech department and when I noticed this on my desk of potential candidates, I thought that couldn't be my Wanda Maximoff but there is only one Wanda Maximoff in New York." He slammed the paper on the table before him. "What are you even doing Wanda?"

"I am looking for a job." She told him.

"You don't need a job." He told her.

"No, but I want a job." She told him. "I am sick and tired of living the same routine every day. It gets extremely lonely."

"Maybe if we try." He started as Wanda interrupted him.

"I already told you no Jarvis!" She yelled. "I am not ready to be a mother!"

"No one is truly ready to be a parent dear." He tried to approach her when she stepped back.

"No." She told him firmly. "I don't want a baby. Not now."

"Wanda! This is something that is expected when we marry." He told her as she laughed.

"We are not living in the 50s!" She told him. "It is my body and I do not want a child."

"It has to be done Wanda." He told her.

"No it doesn't!" She shouted, starting to get angry with every second he wasn't listening to her. "I am 22, freshly out of college, I should be out partying with friends, working a job I hate to try and make ends meet."

"But you don't have to do any of that." He told her.

"Because we have your father's money?" She spoke with a raised brow. "I want to be able to earn my own way Vis, so please just let me." He just nodded as he walked away, leaving Wanda to clean up the dinner that neither had the appetite to eat.

The next day, Wanda was getting ready for her interview with Y/N. She was extremely nervous as she hasn't had a job since she worked part time in high school at the local cafè. So she made sure she was at the building earlier, sipping on a coffee as she waited for Y/N, already being informed that they were in a meeting.

She soon perked up when a door opened and a large group of people left the room. Waiting to see what Y/N looks like.

"Ms Maximoff." They spoke up as they spotted Wanda. "Follow me." She was fast to follow them into their office. Admiring the view from behind them as they sat at their desk. "So, your resume was quite."

"I know, I haven't really had a job since high school." She told them. "But I graduated at the top of my class in college."

"And you are married." They pointed out as they noticed the gold band on her finger. "And you're 22."

"My husband and I have been together since high school." She told them as they smiled softly.

"Well, he is a very lucky guy." They told her before looking at her seriously. "So, why do you want this job?" They asked her.

"Well, I want to be able to make something of myself, earn my own way." She told them. "It's just that Jarvis expects me to stay at home and birth his children but I don't want that."

"You want to be independent." They pointed out as she nodded. "So why did you marry him?"

"I love him." She answered easily, although at that moment, the words felt like a foreign language on her tongue.

"As easy as that." They pried before realising Wanda's unsure gaze. "Forgive me, that was out of line."

"No." She waved them off before looking up again.

"Well, I guess I can have you start on Monday, Jean will show you the ropes before she leaves on Friday." They told her with a smile.

"I got the job?" She asked them, with shock and confusion in her eyes.

"You got the job." They smiled as she squealed. "Just leave your details, social security number and bank account details with Jean."

"Thank you so much Y/N." She stood up as Y/N walked around the desk.

"Be here Monday, 8am." They smiled at her before opening the door for her, the two approaching Jean. "Do you have the files for my next meeting?" She handed them an A4 manilla file. "Also, can you sort out Ms Maximoff's details for your temporary replacement. She will be shadowing you next week before you leave us to have this little guy." Jean nodded with a smile before Y/N had disappeared down the hall and into the elevator.

"They aren't the easiest to work for." Jean told her. "They are perfectionists."

"I can see that." Wanda smiled as she handed over the appropriate papers.

"But they are loyal to their employees." Jean told her. "That is one thing I can say about them." Wanda was fascinated by them, only meeting them briefly but seeing how smart and sophisticated they seemed. It only drew her in, needing to know more. She found herself thinking about them, even when she was laying in bed at night beside her husband. Her thoughts were innocent but she still felt guilty.

[peachsayshi]

Pre the “love you” first HCs, can you do a flirting hc of how the jjk boys would woo their crush before falling in love? ♥️

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ how did they woo you before falling in love? (feat. gojo, geto, nanami)

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags:  fluff; only soft things

notes: anon, I am so excited to write this request for you! if anyone wants to read the previous hc's you can find them here & here. I'm just writing this out for the characters that I already wore about.

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Gojo

In the beginning, courting you was simple. Satoru would go all out by treating you to fancy dinner dates. He constantly surprised you with little gifts of flowers, chocolates, and jewelry. Throwing money as a way to earn your affection was easy, and he didn't have to think about making any effort when his feelings came wrapped up in a pretty bow.

In between the many text messages and phone calls, Satoru would spend any free moment he had with you, but he could tell that you were responding to his gestures with a forced smile. You've only been dating for a short while but you were suddenly unimpressed by everything he had to offer. The spark in your eyes started to fizzle and he knew that you might be reconsidering this relationship altogether.

He understands that he isn't the easiest man to love - he can't exactly commit himself to you, and he's usually inaccessible because of his duties as a sorcerer. There's nothing about Gojo's world that accommodates another person, but he moved mountains to make it happen.

"How about we stay in tonight?" he asked one evening, his arms circling your waist and his blue eyes taking in your shocked expression reflecting from the mirror.

"But...I'm already dressed..." you replied with confusion, looking at your outfit that you thoughtfully put together with disappointment.

"Trust me, I have a better idea..."

You were sitting on a stool, resting your elbows on the kitchen island while watching with intrigue as your lover, who is one of the wealthiest men in the country, struggle to cook a decent meal for you.

The apron barely fit Satoru's long torso, and his clothes were stained with oil and sauce. He spent a majority of the time complaining about why things weren't working correctly but you were smiling throughout the whole experience. By the end, your cheeks were killing you from how much you were laughing. Satoru made it across the finish line with his hair tousled and his cheeks red. The counters were a complete mess, and you even bit back a teasing comment about how terrible his plating looked.

Despite the chaos that he ensued, the food tasted absolutely delicious. You swallowed every bite as you stared at him with nothing but tender eyes. The vibrant smile plastered across his face wasn't his smug satisfaction for accomplishing this task but relief that the fading spark as blooming into a warm flame.

He wasn't going to lose you.

He made gentle love to you that night, listening to every breath and swallowing your pretty moans. He used the moment as opportunity to reconnect with your body, and in many ways, tether himself back to your heart.

Satoru Gojo earned your love. He fought hard to keep it by showing you that he was worth all the trouble.

Geto

Suguru's dates were a simple combination of getting together and talking. These intimate conversations strengthened your relationship, until there was nothing that you couldn't discuss. Suguru cracked open his skull, and you were met with a beautiful mind full of complex thoughts and emotions. He fascinated you in every way possible and wasn't afraid to express his real feelings.

He constantly reassured you that his heart was yours.

Even though you knew Suguru from the inside out at this point, there was still a level of mystery that surrounded him which kept things interesting. The man was the most spontaneous person you knew and that made him unpredictable. You learned over time that he never liked making solid plans, and approached dating you on what he was feeling rather than seeing it as something obligatory.

Your first trip together was planned out one afternoon in your bedroom. Suguru was just scrolling through his phone when he saw a small air bnb in the countryside that he liked. You kept every token from that weekend trip together. You visited a hot spring, hiked through beautiful nature pathways, and found the tiniest little restaurants that served the most delicious meals.

Your last night together was spent with the two of you snuggling in one another's arms while making love in between. He was keeping you close to his chest, his delicate fingers trailing your spine as he stared out the window watching a strip of warm color slice through the twilight sky.

"I don't want to leave," he whispered - his voice a little hoarse and exhausted from the long night.

You nuzzled into him, your leg tightening over his thigh as your hand finds his and you interlace your fingers.

"Maybe...maybe, we can stay one more night..." you sigh, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand lovingly.

You don't see the tick on his lip or the cheeky smile that follows soon after. He kisses the top of your head as he relaxes into the mattress.

"We've both got work tomorrow..."

"True, but I'm sure we can think of something..."

His chest vibrates when he chuckles and he releases a long exhale as he shifts his position. He turns to his side, curling his strong arm over your body and hugs you close to his torso. He's quite aware of how happy he is as he watches you fall asleep in his arms, and all he can think about is how he would gladly go to bed with you beside him every single night.

Suguru's courtship felt like an intimate waltz; from the moment he held your gaze, he lured you into a rhythmic dance that only ended on one note. The longer you swayed to the tune of his music, the more you realized that falling in love with a man like him was inevitable.

Nanami

Nanami's courtship of you reminded you an endangered love - one that was dwindling in such a fast paced culture. He approached dating you with a level of patience and in doing so, he wooed you in a way that left butterflies in your stomach and tingles up your spine.

Nanami wasn't shy about expressing his interest towards you and he was a gentleman in how he handled romancing you. He preferred taking you out on intimate dates - like cozy dinners, visits to museums or art galleries, and walks to the park. He had a keen interest in getting to know y ou, and was conscious about his behavior for the sake of your comfort.

Over time, you watched his personality unravel before your eyes. He had a way of making you laugh with his witty humor, and you soon learned that he was far more laid back than what he presented himself to be. His intelligence made for really interesting conversations, and he always spoke to you with the utmost respect. He had a way of making you feel protected and his restraint worked out in his favor because you felt safe enough to gamble your heart with him.

Then there was the other side to Nanami, the part of him that would appear on occasion with every teasing touch and flirtatious comment that left your cheeks scorching with heat. His eyes would darken with lust when he transitioned from the gentleman to charmer. Nanami's strong attention to detail had him reading your body language in a way that no man ever could. He took his time to figure out how to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you and make love to you.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked him the morning after you slept together for the first time.

He shifted his gaze away from his laptop and looked at you leaning against the wall. You were dressed in his white t-shirt, wearing nothing underneath except your underwear. Your fingers were clenched around the mug of tea that he gave you, and he quirked his brow at your sudden nervous demeanor.

"Anything you want."

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next. "It might be a stupid question..."

At this point your lover stood up from his seat. He walked over to you, placing both hands on your waist and giving you a light squeeze. He brought his lips down to your cheek where he planted a soft kiss, before casually asking, "what's on your mind?"

He finds it adorable when you question if this means that you're both committed to one another and Nanami doesn't even hide his gut wrenching smile when he gives you a sincere confirmation.

"I don't know about you," he teases, "but there has been no one else for me since we met."

"There has been no one else for me either!" you insist, "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page before I go around and start calling you my boyfriend..."

"Boyfriend, huh?"

His tone is playful, but it's the way his voice deepens with that question that made your heart skip a beat.

"I mean, what else am I supposed to call you?"

His expression softens, and he's thankful that you can't see the thoughts running through his mind at that very moment.

"You can call me whatever you want, my love..." he replied with a kiss to your temple, knowing full well that he was working his way towards achieving a prospective title that would suit him better considering he was already picturing you as his wife.

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #22: Kith and Kin

Prompt: rencounter (free write) || Master Post || On AO3 (coming in October)

A/N: Spoilers through Patch 6.5: Growing Light, and very very very minor ones for Dawntrail.

---

Radz-at-Han was a truly beautiful sight from the air. Built atop a large, lonely plateau rising above the Thavnairian jungle, the city covered its entire surface in a myriad of brightly painted buildings, open plazas decorated with mosaics, and lush gardens on multiple rooftops. And even from this distance, there was no mistaking the crowds that bustled throughout the city and crossed the great bridge connecting Radz-at-Han to the rest of Thavnair.

Excitement bubbled up in Ehll Tou’s throat and she trilled an adventuring song as she began to glide downward in a smooth spiral.

The airship landing was easy to spot, a series of long platforms jutting out from the plateau close to the main gate. As she drew closer, Ehll Tou spotted a figure waving from the end of the westernmost dock: large and broadly built, grey skin, large ears, a sinuous trunk, and wearing a beautiful sari of pink and purple. Ah, that must be Nidhana! Ehll Tou obligingly adjusted her course.

The arkasadora took some steps backward as Ehll Tou neared, her ears held up perked and alert. Almost to the edge now, Ehll Tou threw herself into a backwards loop—it had taken quite a bit of practice to relearn how to do that in her adult body—both as display and to slow her momentum. Coming back upright, she flared her wings as a finally braking maneuver, and landed delicately on one foot, and then the other.

[Hello!] she sang happily. [Are you Nidhana?]

“I am indeed!” Nidhana said, striding forward with surprising grace for a being so tall. She held out her hand, and Ehll Tou reached forward to shake eagerly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ehll Tou! Welcome to Radz-at-Han.”

[A pleasure to meet you as well!]Ehll Tou said. [I’ve heard so much about you and your city! Thank you so much for allowing me to attend your introductory alchemy class.]

“Oh, it is a delight to accept a student so diligent and eager to learn,” Nidhana said, beginning to walk down the pier. “I am only sorry I cannot introduce you to Master Vrtra and Mistress Azdaja, but diplomatic business has taken them to Tural and I’m not certain when they will return.”

Ehll Tou kept easy pace beside her and reached into her bag, retrieving her hat and carefully pinning it back to its rightful, jaunty place atop her left horn. [That’s all right,]she said. [There will be plenty of time to properly meet my kin! I am not in any rush.]

“Ah, the benefits of a draconic lifespan,” Nidhana sighed wistfully. “The things I could learn over such time!”

The two chatted happily as they traveled through Radz-at-Han’s streets towards the High Crucible, with Nidhana pointing out many shops and restaurants and landmarks and Ehll Tou dutifully committing them to memory as she built her mental map of the city. She drew curious looks from many Hannish citizens, though dragons had become a somewhat more common sight since Vrtra began openly ruling as satrap. The adventurers were a familiar sight, and some she even knew from Ishgard! With those she exchanged hellos and promises to meet for a snack and cup of tea.

“Such a wonderful world we now live in,” Nidhana said, her trunk curled and ears gently flapping in the manner Ehll Tou was quickly learning meant happiness. “As terrible as the Final Days were, its aftermath has brought new life to the city and Thavnair as a whole. New foods, new ideas, new friends!”

[It is wondrous to see,] Ehll Tou trilled and tapped her claws together with excitement. [I never thought to see the end of the Dragonsong War, but now I may safely travel the lands of man and learn new skills and meet new peoples, and compose songs to share it all with my kin and encourage them to travel and learn, too!]

Nidhana trumpeted a laugh. “Oh, Sisters have mercy on me, I know now why Synnove adores you so much! It is going to be an honor to teach you, truly!”

Ehll Tou chuffed, chest puffing with pride.

--

Five days later, Ehll Tou was browsing one of the markets, humming happily to herself as she examined a stall of clockwork devices. Her first days of classes had gone well and she had settled into the nest that the Alchemists’ College had prepared for her in the student housing close to the High Crucible. She was making new friends, too, and while some of it had no doubt been engendered by the allure of a draconic classmate, once her classmates realized how well-read she was, they had quickly settled into a mix of gossip and idea sharing. Such fun!

She did miss Hautdilong and Arvide, but they had encouraged her to take this opportunity, and she would be back home within the next few moons once the class was concluded. And in the meantime, she would write letters to them, eagerly await their own, and acquire some souvenirs to bring home with her!

Today was a free day and while she would later meet with her classmates to review their notes and prepare for their first laboratory session, this morning was the perfect time to shop.

Ehll Tou had already purchased some silk for a potential sewing project she had in mind, thread for embroidery in colors that made her purr, and a number of interesting snacks she could share at the study session. The clockwork had caught her eye, used as she was to Ul’dahn styles, and her perusal right now was for an item or two she might carefully disassemble to compare its construction to a Goldsmiths’ Guild mammet she was building. A watch was always a good starting point…

A flash of moving scarlet caught her eye, and Ehll Tou raised her head to spot a dragonet further down the boulevard. She blinked curiously; none of her cousins had said they would be visiting Radz-at-Han, but the dragonet didn’t quite look like any of her cousins, either. Perhaps this was a Meracydian dragonet, one that Great Mother Tiamat felt was well enough to travel beyond the safety of her restored brood? Oh, what fun, she hadn’t met any of her Meracydian kin yet!

Ehll Tou made her selections, gently haggling with the shopkeep, and shook hands once they were both content with their deal. She exchanged gil for the watches, placed her purchases within her satchel, and trotted off down the street.

As Ehll Tou drew closer, she noted that the dragonet was certainly no Dravanian but was quite pretty: her wings had feathers, and a fluffy ruff of white feathers crowned her head behind her horns! She whistled a hello, and the dragonet turned—

—this was not a dragonet.

Ehll Tou scrambled to a stop.

{Oh, look at you!} The great wyrm in a dragonet’s body swooped closer. {What a beautiful dragon you have grown into, scion of Ratatoskr!}

Her voice purred and rolled around the careful enunciations of Dragonspeak in both Ehll Tou’s ears and mind. The sound was warm and multi-toned, drums and dulcimers and heavy woodwinds, a deep contralto of age and experience and affection. In it was echoed the symphonic rumble of Kinfather Midgardsormr and the memory of the green skies of the Dragon Star; the hatching songs of new generations and warsongs of wyrms flying to protect their children; the hollow loneliness of a red moon and the dream of home.

Ehll Tou dropped into a bow, neck low and wings spread, and frantically pawed through her mental library of etiquette. Azdaja the Lost had never mothered a brood, so ‘Great Mother’ would not be the proper courtesy title, but perhaps a more mortal term would work, she could contract the layers of generations into one—

[It is my honor, Great Aunt Azdaja,] Ehll Tou trilled in Dragonspeak, though the term for ‘aunt’ translated rather awkwardly.

{Such wonderful manners, I am well met,} Azdaja said, squinting her eyes closed in pleasure. {Further formality is not necessary, little niece.}

Ehll Tou popped up from her bow, fairly vibrating with excitement. [Thank you, Great Aunt! I am Ehll Tou.]

{Yes, yes, Ehll Tou of Dravania! First of a new generation of dragons born to peace.} Azdaja’s voice had warmed even further. {My brother and I just returned to Radz-at-Han last night. How fortuitous that I met you this morning; Vrtra planned to send you an invitation to dinner so that we might properly meet and exchange songs. Would you be able to attend tonight?}

[Oh, yes, I would! Today and tomorrow are my rest days,] Ehll Tou said, fighting the urge to fairly dance in place. Oh goodness, to share family songs with two of the great wyrms! So much to learn! So much to share! She was going to be the utter envy of Zenith and Anyx Trine!

Azdaja’s laugh was a rippling sound of bells and flutes. {Might I accompany you?} she said. {I am still learning much about Radz-at-Han myself, and such excursions are always more joyous with company.}

[It would be my pleasure!] Ehll Tou couldn’t stop her excited hop as Azdaja came to hover next to her, both of their attentions caught by a samosa stall opening as the lunch hour began.

This, Ehll Tou knew, was going to be one of the best days she ever had.

[faelapis]

despite some concerns raised by the trailer/marketing, i am still excited for the wish movie. a lot of that has to do with king magnifico.

that being said, i approach it from a different direction than a lot of other people excited for a “classic disney villain.”

first of all, yes. i, too, love the camp and melodrama of classic disney villains. i love that they express their wishes through big bombastic musical numbers, and said musical numbers are often the best in their movies. i like how queer-coded and fun they often are. i like the sass, the drama, the energy.

where i disagree with a lot of people is with this notion that disney movies “don’t have villains” anymore. i don’t think the likes of hans (frozen) and tamatoa (moana) are less evil than "classic" villains - they’re plenty willing to kill with a smile on their face.

i think what people ACTUALLY miss is the big performance around it all. the aesthetic. someone who does these things while being a major character (so not tamatoa) and deliciously, obviously evil while having fun with it the whole time (so not hans). i think it’s that specific combination people are missing. we still have villains, they’re just either not as “fun” or not as “important.”

of course, that take is less punchy than saying disney doesn’t have villains because "steven cringeyverse destroyed western animation and now companies are too scared to make real villains >:( !1!!!"

yeah i never understood where that came from. if anything, redeeming villains is more controversial than killing them. especially in america, being punitive is the norm. forgiveness is cringe. yet so many act as if there was some big consumer and/or corporate pushback against the idea of villains…? at some point?? i guess????

someone must've forgotten to tell that to disney tv animation, where you’ll find everything from bill cipher to belos in the modern era. (also, other companies exist? dreamworks is not some indie studio, they’re fully willing to have big, campy villains.)

but yknow, people like to feel like underdogs. they like to feel like they're somehow oppressed because some animated media don't have classic villains anymore... despite there still being plenty around. you can’t just like villains, you have to make it everyone else’s problem. like disney is obliged to do the same character tropes in every movie. or villains are "dead."

what actually happened is just… some writers at disney decided they wanted to do different things. that’s it. so you now have a handful of movies where the villain is either a minor character, or nonexistent.

it’s not a conspiracy, it’s not a concerted effort to destroy villains. it’s, at most, a trend. because some writers wanted to push against the previous status quo. and now other writers who grew up with that want to have more classic villains, because that’s what they see as exciting and new. it’s just a cycle of trends and countertrends.

anyway. long tangent aside, i’m actually very excited for king magnifico. in part for a classic villain performance (he gets a song!!) - but also, it sounds like he might scratch a particular itch of mine.

which is to have a big, dramatic, irredeemable villain… who is still a human and has an understandable pov.

yes, you can combine these things. it’s not common for disney, but a lot of what we consider “great movie villains” throughout history have been this exact combination. they have to be defeated, they refuse redemption, they are 100% committed to their goals and will not budge - but they also GENUINELY BELIEVE in those goals.

what i’m really asking for here is a sincerely motivated character. someone who is a villain, but doesn’t SEE himself as a villain. someone who isn’t lying when they try to endear themselves to the hero or promise to make the world better if they join forces. it’s just that they are completely misguided about what would be good for the world, and nothing will persuade them.

whether someone is a villain, a hero, or anywhere in between, i think asking a character’s motivation - and playing those motivations straight, rather than just as a mask for plain selfishness - is key.

as i’m saying this, you might notice that it’s not actually too far off from what i like in other characters. jasper in SU is basically this in her "main arc” in season three. she refuses help, she’s a huge dick to everyone… but she also 100% believes in homeworld as an institution and is actually, genuinely selfless. even if it means her own corruption, she refuses help, because that would betray her cause. which she values above her own life. and by rebecca sugar’s own words, jasper doesn’t even believe she deserves help.

the common thread here is really tragedy. someone you can root for and against at the same time.

so how does this relate to king magnifico? well, jennifer lee (writer for this movie & also the frozen movies) just had an interview where she talked a lot about wish, and in specific, having a classic disney villain in magnifico.

she illustrates a lot of what i’ve been talking about - that there is no grand conspiracy at disney against villains. they just had different stories they wanted to tell. there was no mandate either for or against villains, not in this movie or any other. they just did what they wanted to do with those stories. (btw, that’s not me saying there isn’t pressure at disney to tell certain stories and not others. it’s just that the concept of a villain isn’t as important to the corporate side as, say, not making elsa gay.)

anyway. what makes the king magnifico portion interesting is how lee talks about exactly what i’ve been saying. they knew they wanted a classic disney villain, but it sounds like they still want him to be different from other such characters. namely, they wanted to find the benevolent side of him, how he genuinely believes what he believes and DOES want what he thinks is best for the city of rosas.

and the plot totally checks out - basically, he decides whose wishes come true. and that’s really interesting, because a wish can be anything, good or bad. it sounds like he really wants to prevent what he sees as bad wishes from coming true, and is too conservative in what he allows or not. and his way of being kind about rejection is to remove those wishes from people’s hearts if he cannot fulfill them.

that’s SUCH a great concept for a villain. it speaks to issues of control, of agency, of being in the paternalistic position of deciding what is “best” for everyone else. it gives me a little bit the wizard of oz (as in the wizard himself, who is a charlatan trying to maintain a pleasant status quo, even if it’s a lie), and a little bit white diamond (controlling the lives of others, but genuinely believing you are being selfless and heroic about it / steering people on the “right” path).

reading that interview, my excitement for this movie went from like a 2/10 to a 8/10. jennifer lee seems to have a real interest in creating characters, not just stock tropes. elsa is one of the best disney princesses (fight me) for exactly the same reason.

another great concept talked about here (which you also see in lee’s frozen, with anna and elsa as opposites) is that of duality. there’s a lot of talk about magnifico and asha being two sides of the same coin, both initially believing in this system and wanting what’s best for the city. and from there, they divert to their opposite paths in what specifically they think is right. the interview talks about them as if they were this thesis and antithesis about what’s right for the city, needing to reach a synthesis. in talking about this concept, they included this illustration:

notice the similar poses. both have their hands behind their back (commonly used to convey a character is hiding something), their feet pointed out, and give the world a pleasant smile. asha has a darker color palette in a world of light, magnifico is a ray of light in a dark space. it's interesting for its duality.

so yeah. all in all, i’m still excited for wish. i want to take alan tudyk goat out back and shoot it for a quick, humane death… but failing that, i’ll just pray his role was hammed up for the trailer. please tell me it’s not that insufferable. please.

because i do really like everything else i’ve heard about this movie!! i like that asha is described as this idealist with “dumb courage”, like maybe she’ll actually have some character flaws and need to learn?? (maybe? hopefully?) i like everything i just said about king magnifico. i like that we have this blend of 2d and 3d animation, that’s such a clever concept for a “100 years of disney” celebration.

so yeah. i will be watching. never have i ever prayed for chris pine to save a movie, but today might just be the day!

[eddiediazismyhusband]

(Please don't apologize. You may call it pessimism but I see it as realism and I truly appreciate it. I've seen people SO excited to see the cast back this week and all the excitement about the new season, optimism for canon buddie, what hair/tattoos/wardrobe might look like. And I feel bad because I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. But I cannot be bothered about whether Oliver will keep his fluffy hair or have any new tattoos or Ryan's mustache because I don't want another season of boring, repetitious storylines that don't do anything to the characters, especially those of color (thinking of the cartel and Mara right now)

I'm hopeful that because season 8 will be a full 18 episodes things won't have to be as rushed or thrown together at the last minute as season 7. But yeah, please don't apologize for your opinions because you're not the only one thinking similar thoughts <3)

im moreso apologetic because i dont WANT to be a debbie downer but its like…. ive been burned by shows (this one included) far too many times to be super optimistic and excited over things that could very potentially not be good for us… like i’ve said, most of the people i know with that mustache are awful human beings and when you add in the fact that gerrard also has a mustache like that AND that tim has been showing so little care for eddie as a character/care for poc characters as a whole it doesn’t seem far fetched to me that tim could very easily commit one of the most egregious acts of character death by veering eddie so far off the natural path simply to create cheap drama

like im so glad we seem to be getting fluffy hair buck… unfortunately fluffy hair buck doesn’t negate the fact that he’s currently in a relationship with a racist and that they’re ignoring 6 years of subtext built between he and eddie to try and further reiterate their “totally platonic dude bro” relationship, on top of giving eddie a look that exudes macho straight republican man…

(and don’t get me started on the fucking cartel plot or the mara plot bc what the actual fuck is wrong with tim minear 💀💀)

i just want them to stop dragging their feet on buddie while seemingly writing everything else as this whirlwind of convoluted messy nonsense drama plots and actually decided if they’re gonna commit to just ship/queerbaiting or to the subtext and plot theyve infused into the story since eddie’s literal first episode.

like personal feelings aside for the mustache, i think we’re giving the writers too much faith in portrayal of queer characters to actually say that it’s eddie “embracing queer culture” simply bc it looks like eddie mercury… we’re talking about the same writers who gave the main wlw couple a cheating plotline, have boiled down buck’s sexuality to just sex, and have relied on playing into stereotypes of mlm/wlw side characters rather thsn actually putting time and thought into it… like it’d be one thing to say “it’s a nod to freddie mercury” if the show has actually shown any kind of care beyond using sexuality plotlines for cheap drama (henren) but the reality is that they haven’t shown us that we can trust them in that way yet.

and who knows maybe it IS a nod to freddie mercury, but we don’t know for sure and im not going to set myself uo to be disappointed yet again when its just as likely to be s nod to them making eddie an antagonistic character with gerrard… yeah, that plot wouldn’t make sense for eddie as a character but neither did the vertigo plot so who’s to say tim wouldn’t go for it?

at the end of the day, i am just not looking forward to s8. nothing yet has given me any inclination to actually watch it until we are shown that they are making strides to actually tell a meaningful story that doesn’t rely on minorities for tokenism plots or putting them through needless pain again. yes this show is a drama, but there are other ways you can create drama (hell it’s a show about first responders) than putting poc characters through the fucking wringer time and time again, profiting off their pain, while simultaneously telling lowkey racist stories that involve the fucking cartel coming out of nowhere to burn down a LA fire captain’s house???

so yeah, i’m just not feeling great about it. i also don’t wanna rain on anyone’s parade but i don’t wanna get my own hopes up when i would just be setting myself up to be let down yet again by these writers

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: in your own time

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Length: 33,632 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, After Dark, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

*Minor Spoilers* I'm proud to say that I was the third hit count on this one and I had no idea it was being posted. This is a STUNNING priest AU, and this is going to be a long rec post.

Crowley and Aziraphale are estranged childhood friends here. Aziraphale was put on track to become a priest, and could not walk away. Crowley had to leave and find his own path. Personally, I love that plotline because it gives me a connection to their 6,000 years of friendship that I like to see revisited in Human AUs. We only get brief flashbacks to their youth, but it is enough to know how much they loved each other then. They go through life content, but incomplete. Each aware that their soulmate is out there, but reconnection feels impossible. That magic is not gone yet, and an unexpected reunion was just the spark they needed.

Crowley's portrayal here is especially soft and tender. His blend of anxiety and genuine confidence is as charming as ever, but it's his understanding and acceptance that truly shine. He never blames Aziraphale for the way things have unfolded. There's no punishment for the past from him, only unwavering support and love. He's so loving and safe, praising and doting on Aziraphale with pet names. I know Aziraphale is going to be cared for now.

Aziraphale's relationship to God and the Church was such a gorgeous journey. He was put on this Earth to do good and provide comfort to his community. Just like the canon though he'll need to separate out the Institution (Heaven/The Church) from God. His moral compass is so strong, "heavy, gilded, reliable". He just needed to learn to trust that voice. And not the voice of those who have forced him to conform to their will. The narrative never villainizes Aziraphale for staying with the church. He just needed some separation and someone to catch him. To be shown that love is holy. The church is not God, he will not be destroyed for acting on his love. I won't quote the whole thing but on Crowley's side, there is a stunning description of what he finds holy and worth of worship. That I am going to reread 1 million times. This story speaks to the late bloomers, the closeted, and the repressed—the queers who have hidden and suppressed their desires to conform to please others. It's for those whose lives seem to have slipped by, filled with missed opportunities and immobilizing fear. It holds us close and tells us, "It's never too late, my love." I often get stuck on "lost time", times I've felt I've wasted in my life. So reading, "It's never too late to do whatever it was you were always meant to do, as long as you do it when you're ready. It's never too late to look into the future, to conceive of a world which makes you grin with excitement and banish all dread from your mind." well, it made me emotional okay!!

Oh and it's hot as fuck. So there's also that. Like seriously, it'll creep up on you here. It'll be some gorgeous line about the human condition or whatever, and then the filthiest most delicious line imaginable! It was like an electric shock to me. The confessional scene had me weak in the knees!!!! I can't say enough times I love this story. The first several chapters are safe in public, but you will hit a point that it is not! Proceed at your own pleasure

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

[babyjakes]

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event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

requested by @celestianstars | Eun I am so excited for blurb night! This is gonna be so good! 😍 was just thinking of Lloyd and soft degradation with his little baby! You’ve done so well behaving and being a good girl and listening to him and he knows you want him so bad, he’s been teasing and teasing but hasn’t had time to give you proper attention because ‘bad guys, sunshine.’ but now that he does have time he’s obsessed with how needy you are, you get so small and soft for him, he loves that he can do anything to you and all you want is more from your daddy! 🥺💌

warnings | ddlg. soft degredation. rough p in v sex. one pussy slap and one forced orgasm 😌

word count | 451

weeeeheeeeheee i was hoping someone would send in some lloyd filth!! amalia this is so perfect for this event— thankyou for sharing your beautiful slutty mind!!!

thinking about lloyd fucking you after weeks, maybe even months— maybe he’s been traveling for business and it hasn’t been safe enough for you to come along. he’s tried to keep you busy over the distance, sending pics and vids of him jerking off (with sound!! 😤) and even special instructional videos on how he wants you to touch yourself, but the whole time there’s been a big rule: no cumming. not until daddy comes back and can make you cum himself.

so when he finally does return, he makes an absolute feast out of you 🤤 dressing you up in fancy new designer lingerie he got while away, getting you all situated in the bedroom, eating you out to several orgasms (it’s his favorite form of foreplay and he knows you love the stache), fingering you, getting you nice and ready.

and when he finally does sink his massive, throbbing cock into your heat, he can’t take it anymore; he’s done waiting. he wants to fuck you hard, rough, fast. he wants to hear you screaming his name. so he does exactly what he wants, and it satisfies you in every way imaginable.

“there you go, there’s daddy’s filthy baby. been needing this so badly, huh? was so mean of daddy to leave for so long— dumb little babies like you need so much care, so much attention. well now you have it, sunshine, i’m giving it all to you. and what do you say?” grabbing your chin to force you to look at him as he fucks deeper and faster into you, definitely bruising your insides at this point 😭

“thank you daddy, thank you daddy!” 😖🫶 you can’t say the words enough, they just spill out of you in a mindless stream, mixed in with whimpers and sobs and sniffles, and lloyd’s just obsessed with how dumb you are for his dick.

“that’s a good girl. been so good for me, think you deserve to cum again” his words have you squealing and maybe trying to wiggle away; you’re already so sensitive, so overstimulated, but lloyd takes what he wants. he spits against your core before smacking his hand down, rubbing furiously.

“c’mon baby, give me one more. missed seeing those pretty eyes roll back into your head. there it is— poor girl, can’t help it, can you?” he laughs crudely as you squirt against him, sobbing his name as he keeps fucking you. “that’s my girl, just keep lying there and taking it. you’re not done ‘til daddy says so” 💖🫶💖🫶

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Seven.

Second update is here, besties! This is basically shaping up to be a novel, the 20th chapter just begun in the writing and I am loving every last second of creating their story! Just to note, too, the song Picses that is mentioned is a real song, by the band Jinjer, the musical claim for Jade's voice and Seventh Gate on a whole. Give it a listen, it's beautiful.

Big thanks to my tiny audience for your commitment to reading. I see a few of you liking it but remaining quiet. I would so love to hear from you, if you'd be so kind to drop a little comment, and even better, add a reblog to help me get a bit more exposure. Thanks guys :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,047

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Ahh, he has arrived. Dogs, come on. This show of frenzy is not becoming of you.”  

Patrick Brody; he could never just greet someone with a simple hello, letting his son into the house on Christmas morning. He at least gave Adrien a big hug while he was being dived all over by two very excitable Pit Bull terriers, though.  

“Merry Christmas, pop,” he spoke with affection, his dad nodding and smiling. 

“Same extended in return. Now, your mother is in the kitchen, if you will excuse me, I am slowly working myself through what’s left of my Tanqueray while I ruminate on Keats and a little Joy Division. It’s great to see you, though. I’ll be out when the food is done.”  

Ahh, he was in one of his moods, chasing a slither of melancholy. Why he’d chosen Christmas morning to do such was beyond Adrien, but he was used to the strange habits of his fiercely intellectual father. The last time he’d visited, it was Sangria paired with The Rolling Stones and a book on the art of John Williams Waterhouse.  

Truly, there was nobody like his father. Or his mother.  

“Is that my boy?”  

“Sure is,” Adrien called, placing the large bag of gifts he’d brought beneath the tree in the lounge, walking down to the kitchen to see her emerge, her arms held wide. “Merry Christmas, ma.” 

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she spoke, pulling him into a hug. “Is your father still absconding?” 

“He is,” he confirmed, giving the dogs a little more attention before following her down the hall. 

“You know, I thought he’d get out of that whole tortured artist bit when he hit thirty,” Lois voiced, hurrying back into the kitchen to check on the gaggle of pots occupying the stove. “Never damned well happened!” Turning the burners down, she glided to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine with raised eyebrows. “I got this or beer? Up to you.”  

“I’ll take a beer, but let me, mom. You have enough to do, or I can stir something?” He made a move off the high stool, watching his mother race towards him, waving her hands. 

“You will stay away from the cooker, Adrien Nicholas Brody!” she warned, unscrewing the top and handing him the bottle. “You’re a liability.” 

His face was a picture of affronted. “Says the woman who’s set fire to her own hair how many times?”  

Pointing at him, she waved her finger, starting to laugh softly in spite of herself. “Fucking smart ass, is what you are.”  

“I get it from you, ma,” he teased, reaching for Ginsberg’s giant head when the dog made it clear he required further petting, Bukowski pottering around in the hallway, shaking the hell out of a brand-new chew toy. Moving over to the balcony, he turned the key and slid the door, letting himself out into the cold Christmas morning, lighting up a cigarette. 

“Still smoking, huh?” his mother observed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Don’t start bitching. Not with how many you used to chain a day,” he warned, raising an eyebrow.  

Picking up her wine, she felt confident to leave the food for five minutes, joining him out on the balcony. “Wasn’t going to. I could do with one. Gimme.” Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled the pack out, Lois taking one and leaning to the light he offered, the smell of the lighter fluid mixing pleasantly with the tobacco. Taking a long drag, she immediately looked more blissful.  

“Oh, full tar. Good boy,” she sighed, kissing his shoulder as she rubbed his arm. 

“Not my choice, I stole them from my girlfriend,” he confessed, watching her eyes widen. 

“Excuse me, son of mine?” Her exclamation was coupled with the usual wild gesticulating, arms flying expressively. “Girlfriend, you just drop that in there casually, that there’s a girlfriend on the scene now?”  

He laughed softly through his nose, looking out across the white landscape below. “Yeah, there’s a girlfriend. It’s been three and a half months now.”  

Lois wound her hand expectantly. “And? Name, age, what does she do? Please don’t tell me it’s another bullshit model who doesn’t know shit from Shinola. I can’t bear the idea of you bringing another pretty dullard into my goddamned house!” 

“You liked Sofia,” he protested. 

“Sofia was well read, she was interested in other cultures, she’d travelled. She was an anomaly. Anyway, we don’t talk about her any longer! Tell me about the girl,” she demanded, her eyes full of excitement. 

“Her name is Jade, she’s thirty-one, and she’s the vocalist for a band called Seventh Gate. And she acts as well.”  

Lois paused, her wine glass almost reaching her mouth, her other hand moving to grip, and then softly shake his forearm. “You’re dating Jade Burton?” 

Wait. How did his mother even know who she was? “Hold on, you know who she is?” 

Her finger thrust towards the kitchen, her entire arm waving. “That new canvas I have out in the hallway? I painted that listening to Black Electric Wasteland.”  

Their second album, but how... how did his mother know that? “Who are you, and what have you done with Lois?” 

“Oh, come on! You know I listen to rock! I’ve got Sabbath and Def Leopard albums in my collection,” she exclaimed, taking another drag on her cigarette. 

“Yeah, but Seventh Gate is way heavier than that. It’s the musical equivalent of having a safe dropped on your head.”  

She snorted into her wine glass. “And how the hell do you know? You only listen to music made by fellas with gold teeth who wear jeans nine sizes too big!”  

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that. “Because that’s how I met her. I got talked to going to the Rock and Iron festival with Lewis while I was in LA. The first time I met Jade was when she jumped onto the barrier and screamed about in an inch from my face.” That particular revelation delighted his mother, imagining it. He went on to explain a little more, how he’d met her properly backstage, thought she was incredible and swiftly decided in a moment of madness to join the tour for a week.  

“Good for you, god! You didn’t do anything like this in your teens, you were always so focused. Why not in your thirties? And look what came of it, you’re dating a legend! Oh, mother of pearl, that girl’s voice!” Flicking her finished cigarette over the rail, she bustled back inside, locating her phone and swiping around, putting it in the dock and pressing play. “I love this song. Pisces. Please tell me you’ve heard it?” 

He had, since it had been in their setlist on tour. They stood silently as they listened to the opening bars, Lois softly singing along to the melodic opening, clasping a hand to her chest. “I adore her! All of them, such talented girls!” 

Adrien was still stuck in the realms of huge surprise that his mother had not only heard of Seventh Gate, but was a fan, too, when the kitchen door opened, his father walking in.  

“Interesting harmonies, and the chord progression is stunning work. Who is this?” 

“Adrien’s girlfriend and her band. They’re the girls whose music inspired my painting!” Lois replied with enthusiasm, continuing to softly sing as her husband topped up his gin. “You’ll never believe what he did, Patrick. Meets her at a show and then, he just hops on a tour bus with her for a week. Just like that!” 

His father paused, eyebrows raised. “You and five women absconded to a bus for a week,” he mused, sipping his gin. “A lesser man might make a joke about such setting tongues wagging, but it feels a little too low brow.” Another sip of gin was taken. “How is your tongue, by the way?” 

Patrick Brody; he was a man entirely too witty for his own good.  

Adrien closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. “You’re fucking terrible.” 

“I’m an effervescent delight. And you? You’ve now officially cemented yourself as a groupie.” Closing the fridge, he stood for a moment, tapping his foot as he continued to listen. “Yes. I like it, mmhmm.” 

Adrien couldn’t help but grin. “Just wait for the chorus.”  

His dad looked curious for all of five seconds, before the tempo changed drastically, both musically and vocally. “What in the?” he exclaimed, wide eyed, scratching his chin. “That’s a woman?”  

“Yep,” Adrien confirmed, “that’s my girl.” 

He listened a little longer, sipping his drink. “Does she need a priest? It sounds like she has a demon.” 

Immediately, Lois pointed at the door. “Get out of my kitchen at once, you lousy philistine!” Their little double act had their only child laughing quietly, thinking his dad truly wasn’t all too wrong. After all, he’d likened that ripsaw roar to something hell had spat up too upon first hearing it. “When can I meet her?” 

He knew he’d have that question directed at him sooner rather than later. “I’ll arrange something with her and get back to you. I have five weeks before I’m away again, we can come over one afternoon, or meet you guys in the city?”  

“I’d love that, yes. So, tell me more about her, then,” she requested, her eyes lighting up. She could see it so clearly, how smitten her son was. “She’s British, isn’t she?” 

“British-Sicilian. She was born in Palermo. Arrived three months earlier than expected while her mom was over there visiting family, backpacking with her dad.” 

“Oh!” she cried, resting a hand to her chest. “She was a little preemie baby? How dear.” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “almost didn’t make it, weighed about three pounds when she was born. I like to think she defied all the odds stacked against her, though.” He smiled, thinking of her fortitude, her toughness to do the job that she did, and at the standard she did it. “She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” 

Lois studied him for a moment, beginning to nod. Finally, he’d met the one who she sensed wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry. “I’m going to love her, aren’t I?”  

Watching that sly smile, he looked away for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Yeah. You really, really are.” She left all talk of the new girl there, going back to the cooker and inquiring over how everything else was in her son’s life as she stirred and tinkered.  

Meanwhile, over in Harlem, Jade found herself in a similar surrounding. Except in her family, you pitched in, or you got the hell out of the way. 

“Steven!” Gemma yelled, her husband jumping a foot in the air. “If I have told you once, I have told you a million times, stop stealing the turkey skin!” 

“Why? You don’t like it, Rachel is a fussy vegan, Jade doesn’t care, and Marco isn’t even here. Allow a man to have his simple pleasures, my little snap dragon,” he teased, winking when his daughters began to laugh, Jade making a snappy motion with her hand towards the back of her mother’s head. It was very weird, for her brother not to be there, this year staying in LA with his new boyfriend, Jack and his family.  

“Your parents like it, and I finally have the skin nice and crisp, so it’ll give your mother one less thing to complain about,” she replied, physically hip bumping Jade down a little as she poured cream into the potatoes, ready to mash into a pulp.  

“Go, go on, out of my way!” 

“You called me in to carve the bird, Gemma,” he reminded her, taking the large knife the younger of his daughter’s passed over to him.  

“Well then do it instead of standing there slowly making a start on eating it!” 

Jade quickly finished her potato-based endeavours, reaching for the bottle of scotch on the side, topping up her mother’s glass and adding ice from the fridge dispenser. “Mum, drink that before you give yourself a heart attack and thus make dad have to work on his day off.”  

“Open heart surgery on the tiles with a carving knife,” he chimed, examining the blade. “I think I could make do.”  

The family all paused to laugh, Gemma taking the drink passed to her gratefully, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s waist. “Thanks, buba.” Taking a sip, she then widened her eyes. “Rachel!” Check what time we’re on. I need to put the beans on at the very last minute, so they don’t overcook.”  

“Can’t, mama. My phone is in the lounge.” 

“Check mine,” Jade spoke, “It’s on the counter.”  

Illuminating the screen, Rachel took in the time, as well as something else notable. “It’s two twenty-one, and sis, why do you have a picture of Adrien Brody as your screen lock? Are you fangirling?” 

“No,” she beamed, “but I am dating him. That’s the news I had to share before I got wrapped up in the Christmas chaos.”  

Immediately, her right eardrum was almost blown out. “What the utter bloody hell, Jade Lucia? You’re... and... seriously? Adrien Brody, really?” 

“Mum, you’re making it sound like he has two heads, or like I have. I’m not sure which is worse,” she chirped, reaching for her wine and taking a big gulp.  

Gemma nudged her with a soft elbow. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it! So, come on. Tell us everything!” 

“Not everything,” her dad mumbled, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, I wanna know everything,” Rachel piped up, nodding towards the door. “Get out, dad. I wanna hear if he’s good in bed or not.”  

He instantly looked mildly mortified, scrunching his eyes tightly shut. “Pretending I didn’t hear that,” he sang, shaking his head, “wishing you were still two and six instead of these grown women who let penises near you.”  

Jade almost choked on her wine for her laughter, Steven finishing his very neat and precise carving, nothing less than anybody expected for a surgeon to accomplish. “I am leaving you to your women’s talk. I shall be in the lounge, eating my nougat.”  

As soon as he was gone, two sets of eyes turned to her. “Tell us everything!” they both spoke at once, Gemma especially excited as she bounced on her heels a little. Her darling mother still had that silliness of youth about her, a very young fifty. With preparations all done for the moment, they stood and listened as Jade regaled them with the story, even grabbing her phone to show them the picture taken literally at the exact moment they’d first met, Jade bellowing a scream right in his face.  

“What, so he just blew off his commitments and got on a bus with you?” her mother cried, sipping her drink, looking absolutely delighted. 

“He did, and yeah. We fell in love,” she confessed, beaming as they cooed, Rachel moving to hug her. 

“That’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever heard! Aww!” she spoke, kissing her sister’s cheek fondly. “You’re keeping it quiet, I gotta say. Haven’t seen any pictures of you guys together in the press or anything.” 

“Well, we haven’t been out together much,” she admitted, fiddling with her necklace, one he bought for her three days previously when he came back into the city. “There have been a couple, though.” A little lament sounded in her sigh, knowing of course it would happen sooner or later, being that she was relatively well known, and Adrien of course very famous. “Thank fuck there wasn’t any after what happened with Jen. Nobody got pictures of him there, which I’m glad of. I don’t want anything like that possibly impacting him negatively.” 

Gemma’s eyes widened. “He was there when it happened?” 

Gulping at the memory of that terrifying day, she fortified herself with a mouthful of wine. “He was. He’s the one who found her. He saved her life.”  

The eldest of the Burton women let out a little gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “God above, I can’t imagine how I’d react.” 

“Horrible as it was for him, he was probably the best person to find her,” she admitted, “he’s very steady and pragmatic, very calm. He doesn’t get flustered easily at all. I doubt any of us would have thought to check for her stash, Jess’s weed too and get rid of it so nobody got arrested and made an already nightmarish situation a thousand times worse.” 

“What a good guy, wow. And how is my beautiful Jen now?” Gemma asked. Jen had always been her favourite, looking at the kitchen table and being able to picture her there, drumming upon the surface with a couple of pencils as a gawky, fifteen-year-old kid with bright pink hair. That very brownstone was where Seventh Gate had begun, their rehearsals confined to the basement, the girls all coming over after school every day to practice for hours. 

Jade smiled, remembering her last phone call with her. “She’s doing okay. The first week withdrawing was hell, but better than it could have been since she wasn’t a long-term, substantial user. She’s doing the twenty-eight-day program but is open to staying longer if she feels like she needs to.”  

Feeling a little teary, she took a breath, stilling the little emotional vortex that began to swirl. Of course, true to her nature, she only let herself feel it momentarily before she hardened herself. “I’m so proud of her. She was just like, ‘I have a problem and I need to get help in fixing it, because I ain’t going out like that, I’m not scaring you guys that bad ever again’, so checked herself into Urban Recovery in Brooklyn as soon as she got back to the city.” 

She remembered how small and broken she’d looked the day after her overdose, seeing here there in hospital, trying to remain upbeat. Jen never cried, the epitome of a tough New York girl, but as soon as she’d seen Adrien, she’d burst into tears, apologising for putting him through something like that and thanking him over and over for saving her life.  

Speaking of the man himself, after they had both spent the day with their families, they met up again that evening at Jade’s apartment in the West Village, Adrien flecked with a sprinkling of snow as he arrived. Christmas in New York was her favourite time of the year, loving watching it tumble from the sky through the two floor to ceiling windows in her living room.  

The space was airy and light, yet sumptuously cozy, candles dotted around lighting every surface, a very big but tastefully decorated tree in the corner of the apartment, the warm white lights twinkling beautifully against the minimal ornaments. They shared a bottle of red wine while exchanging gifts, Jade buying him a whole heap of things she knew he liked, his favourite perhaps being a little crochet doll of a bald, bespectacled man in an orange robe on a bicycle. It took him a good five minutes to stop laughing. 

“His holiness on a bicycle, oh god, I love it!” he hissed, reaching for the last gift in the pile.  

“Now this one has had me riddled with anxiety over whether you’ll like it or not, and I just have to hope to hell that you do!” she spoke, Adrien opening the paper with curiosity, pulling out a white label record from within.  

“The boy from Queens?” he spoke, looking at the title written on there with a Sharpie, nothing else denoting anything. “Who’s it by?” 

Pointing at her record player in the corner, she smiled. “It’s an original collaboration. Put it on and find out.” Heaving himself off the couch, he walked over and did exactly that, placing the vinyl down atop the player and switching it on, carefully lining the needle up. As soon as he heard the opening beats, he spun to stare at her.  

“What did you do, Burtie?” he spoke, his smile beginning to spread. His mouth then fell open completely, hearing the vocal intro that was Method Man himself, dropping rhymes over his beats.  

Burtie. She loved that particular cute little nickname, breathing a huge sigh of relief at his reaction. “I played him some samples of those beat tracks you sent me, shared a few lyrical ideas to tailor it, added to it, and we recorded it upstairs after you’d left last week. You do not even want to know how much it cost me to get it pressed at such short notice as a one off, but you’re worth every cent, my darling.” 

Standing there listening, the clever lyrics all relating to him, he was floored. Utterly stunned. “This is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me!” he spoke, nodding his head, “damn, that’s so sick! Baby, thank you so much. Seriously, this is the best.”  

“Isn’t it, though? And you’re welcome,” she beamed, elated that he was enjoying something she’d worked so hard on collaboratively. It was always great to hang out with her friend, having Clifford there for nineteen hours straight working on it. Getting to work with him on something so personal up in her little recording space had been an unforgettable experience, though.  

Once the track had finished, he came back over to her, lifting up the large gift he’d brought for her, giving her a kiss before sitting down beside where she was comfortably resting in her gigantic bean bag. “Here, I’d say I hope you’ll like it, but I know you definitely will.”  

Taking it from him, she propped it back against her large coffee table, picking at the corner before gently tearing the paper. The squeak that bubbled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth made his stomach prickle with joy, watching her so excited.  

“Oh my life!” More of the canvas was revealed, Jade flapping her hands as she bounced a little, eyes widening. “Oh my fucking god, Adrien!”  

“And I’m deaf. Again,” he joked, pushing a finger against his ear and giving it a little wiggle to stop the ringing her scream had evoked.  

Her mouth hung open, looking between him and the painting, more noises of approval sounding. “You bought me a Beksinski original?” 

Zdzislaw Beksinski was her favourite artist, the Polish painter and photographer whose medium was dark and macabre, the original painting discovered by Adrien after scouring the internet, finding it for sale through a private collector. It had been worth every single ounce of hassle in getting it shipped over from Germany, the insurance, the customs debacle, the mild heart attack he’d suffered at hearing it might not arrive in time for Christmas, just to see the look of such pure, unfiltered happiness on her face.  

“He... he touched this,” she whispered, her fingers gently gliding over the ridges of the oil paint, every swirl and groove, shaking her head in amazement. “Baby, I love it. Thank you! Come here, my handsome mans.” Pulling him into her arms, she showered him with kisses, utterly delighted to have received such a thoughtful gift. She shuddered to think what he must have shelled out for it. Beksinski’s work went for tens of thousands.  

Admiring it as she leaned back against his chest, she honestly couldn’t remember the last Christmas she’d felt quite as elated as she did in that moment, in the arms of her love, cozy and warm as outside, the snow continued to cover Manhattan in a thick blanket of glistening white.  

“I got you something else, too.” Picking up a small package, he handed it to her, Jade feeling something she instantly recognised within. Pulling it out, there in her hand lay a looped up, long coil of dark blue bondage rope, her grin widening so much, he couldn’t help but laugh softly.  

“Put your hand in my bra right now and check out what just seeing this has done to my nipples.” He obliged, giving the left one a little stroke. It was like a bullet. “Okay we’re going to bed right now.”  

It was the exact reaction he’d been looking for. 

[secriden]

anon🕵️ - I'm one of those that hinted towards joondunk shows based on your love for 🐕‍🦺 fort :p

tutoryim are also a pretty visual cp to look for and firstkhao in the eclipse (only friends might be too intense if you are starting in bl). It's lovely to see your enthusiasm ☺️

feel free to post unhinged dunk moments because we rarely get them compiled unlike 🥑

for both firstkhao & joongdunk the bts are a must watch!

alsjdflasjdf OMG ANON YOU WERE RIGHT!?!?! I really want to make a post about all of joong and fort's similarities because like throughout this whole process i keep feeling like i was re-discovering joong because there's SO MUCH crossover and clearly i have a Type because it took nearly nothing for me to fall in head over heels for joong. *u* but there's so much??! the eyebrows, the eye crinkle smiles, the sunshine golden retriever disposition, the way they are overwhelmed by the cuteness of their respective partners, the way they're both engaging with alternative creative pursuits, the way they're both incredibly hard working and have such drive, the way they both melt when their partners give in/turn it back on them. i've so many FEELINGS about them rn.

tutoryim: i really really liked them in cutie pie. in fact they were the only couple i really... connected with?? so its was sad they were so minor. i tried to watch BOTW but grew frustrated with it before i could finish it. i plan to go back to it at some point with re-adjusted expectations because it definitely didn't live up to its potential but the visuals are <3

i'm excited to see firstkhao in THK!! i've been meaning to check out The Eclipse but just haven't cuz i don't have the time. but i'm also not sure i really want to watch yet another "school" series unless its for a cp i'm already invested in the way i am with joongdunk. so i may go back and watch it after THK.

wait, ok, what does the avocado emoji mean??? *confused* hahaha i need to find that one of dunk coping a feel of joong cuz it was so random and unnecessary. xD

also, bts of what? HA? *u*

🕵️‍♀️ - my hc for dk is that he gives spoiled young master vibes used to bat his eyelashes and joong is capital W whipped for him. based on the bts they seem to share the unhinged sense of humour bc dunk often baits him into it. i can't even imagine when they were matched as a cp. For joong to be introduced to this very pretty funny young man and dunk getting a handsome protective (he is so respectful of him particularly in regards to physical stuff) cp i wouldn't be surprised if other gmmtv actors/actresses would have wanted to pair with either of them, even now 😂🤣

just confirming dk = dunk? my brain went seventeen's main vocalist??? xD

ohhhhhh is he from a wealthy family?? tbh its so funny to me how many thai bl actors are just... from rich families because it means they could do anything and chose to make out with other pretty boys for their careers and that's so incredibly valid and i love it (yes, i am mostly thinking of mile).

honestly joong is so SO whipped for him. i am transfixed by that story of joong calling dunk before they were confirmed cp and being all "do you think we'll be put together? i hope we'll be put together" like he was so committed so fast ugh!!

and ohhhh i haven't seen anything much yet about joong being protective of dunk, but it wouldn't surprise me. he has the vibe. do you remember which interview/post it's from??

lol everything i've seen about gmmtv seems like all the actors just love everyone else a ton. like wasn't there this thing about gun atthaphan kissing another of the gmmtv boys (not his cp partner) and the internet going batshit crazy about it? xD so the vibe seems to be love all round and its very sweet. *u*

[lesbovalentine]

sharing my neotwewy thoughts that felt too mean to post when the game was coming out and people were excited about but tbh i felt its biggest weakness wasnt its struggle to balance out developing the new characters and returning cast which wasnt helped by the fact that the reapers game is no longer played in pairs but in larger teams, or the change from very unique combat to lots of button mashing, but a loss of some sort of individuality. like its echoed by the story itself in what i already said about how you lose some ability to focus on developing characters when you commit to a hugely expanded cast and having more characters around at a time, and the fact that they couldnt quite let it be the new kids story OR commit to the returning characters plotlines both new and continuing.

but like neo looks "better" in the same way gg strive often does where its more polished and everythings kind of sanded down for wider appeal. i dont dislike any of the redesigns except maybe shos but i dont love any of them either. well i liked kariyas actually . BUT overall its just so sad to me how twewy was so focused on individuality and how its a GOOD thing everyones different and theres so many different personalities and fashions and opinions out there and it was so good at getting u invested in characters and the petty problems of minor characters in the rg. and then in neo that emphasis on individuality and on getting to know individual characters is lost immediately. none of the wicked twisters designs communicate all that much to me very effectively. i am so so so invested in the original cast but they just did not hook me well enough with the new kids because theyre immediately overshadowed first by sho then the idea of neku then beat then rhyme and then neku again and also the question of wtf has joshua been doing this whole time to let this happen. and by all the unanswered promises and questions left by a new day

[ceilingfan5]

'BEEF BUTTON' AND 'THE FEAR' PLEASE (I'm yelling because I'm excited) with Taakitz.

Thank you so much (both for the list and all the fabulous writing you give us to devour!)

Kravitz can do this. He can. It’s easy, probably. Normal people would find it easy, and he’s normal enough, ergo, fucking, do it, coward. He squeezes the pinback button a little too tight in his hands and inhales when the stupid thing pokes him, because it’s sharp, because it’s a button. Stupid. Normal, though, so normal, and regular? Categorically. 

Hey, you dropped this. Easy. He can use that smoldery voice he practices in the shower. Hey, you dropped this? Minor edit, more inviting. Maybe? Is this yours? I found it on the floor. Very sexy. Tenouttaten, layable. Bangtastic. His fuckable nature and awkward swag are legendarical. He’s gonna floor this whole fucking cafeteria with just how awesome this interaction goes. 

God, he is sweating. If it was some rando, it would be easy enough. Well, not like, Easy easy. He’d take it to lost and found. Or? Honestly? Keep it. It’s not like some show or a dumb thing. This button is bright red and just says BEEF. That rules, what the fuck? Kravitz needs to understand. So he has to interact. It’s math. Probably. He graduated and never looked back, honestly. 

Why the BEEF? Why? What could possibly necessitate such a strong statement?? But this guy isn’t just some rando, he’s Dreamy…. Like, legitimately. Like, magazineworthy, like, commercially, like Kravitz has run into him four and a Half times and thinks of him OFTEN, you  know, #normally, and is categorically regular about imagining what that long pink hair looks like out of that thick braid that could be a weapon, and that charming gap in his teeth, and the bootyshorts that say CONSTANTLY ALIVE, or that skirt that left glitter all over the floor, or the platform shoes that rattled full of actual aquarium gravel and gummy sharks,  or- or- or- or-

Beef. It’s what’s for winners. Winners who best social anxiety and return the cool button to the hot guy. Winners who can talk words good and do tasks and complete objectives. 

He’s rooted to the fucking spot with The Fear ™. But he can do this. He’s gonna do it right now.

Aaaaand go.

Nope. This time.  AAAAAAAaaand go. Shoot, one more. Third time’s the charm. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand- 

“Oi-” he says, wincing internally at the sound that comes out of his face, but somehow he has…already committed to the bad accent. “Did you drop this?”

“Huh?” he gets in return. Taako looks up at him from his book and wrinkles his nose, and his freckles dance, and he is the sun, and Kravitz should have worn sunscreen today. “What?”

“This button, the BEEF button, it’s yours? Seems like something you’d have. On your person. Or objects you possess. Is it?” He is sweating. Why did he wear all black today? Well, he always wears all black, but why?

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, man.” Taako holds out his hand to take it. Kravitz is pretty sure his name is Taako. When he orders his iced coffee drinks he half-sings T-double A- K- O. And Kravitz has NOT been writing it in his journal like a lovesick middle schooler. That would be sad. And he doesn’t even own a gel pen. So there.  

“No problem,” Kravitz’s accent warbles and changes, and Taako kind of tilts his head at him. “What’s it for? What- what’s the BEEF?”

Taako laughs. 

“It’s vintage,” he says. “God knows. This ancient beef rose before me and will fall after I am gone. The BEEF is eternal, you know? What’s your handle, scented candle?”

“Kravitz,” Kravitz manages. “And…cinnamon sugar, maybe.”

Taako blinks. 

“F-, uh, for the candle? Did you not-”

“Ohh,” Taako says. “Taako.” He jabs a thumb at his chest. “Mmmmmm…Spice rack.”

“Spice rack?” Kravitz is so taken aback he drops the accent entirely. “Like…oregano and garlic powder?”

“Absolutely,” Taako says. “Everybody is like, what smells so good, what are you cooking? And you hit ‘em with the fact that they wanna eat wax. Hilarious.” 

“Avant garde, even.” Kravitz shakes his head. “I, uh,” and nothing else comes out of his mouth. Taako lets him hang there for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then snorts. 

“You busy later, homeboy? I’ve been meaning to go to that new restaurant, but I thought it would be weird to go alone?”

“Burrito Boyfriend? I, hadn’t, plans- yes? I would love to get a boyfriend- I mean- I would love to get a burrito with you. Taako. Yes.”

Taako laughs hard enough that he makes a beautiful noise, and he covers his mouth, but too late. Kravitz is in love with him. 

Fuck. And all because of a little ground beef.  

[void-thegod]

I am in one of those moods.

probably bc I have been feeling good all week.

so I have to crash.

don't wanna eat or go outside.

too much peopling the last two weeks.

tired.

it's beautiful tho. besides being broke my life is pretty good actually.

but.

well. I just have to let it go, don't I?

I'm not going to have...that.

look on the brightside.

look on the brightside.

look on the brightside.

people forget that we exist in this world "whole" - body mind and soul - they all affect the other. and sometimes you can mind over body or spirit over both.

but sometimes you're fucked up physically and you have to take care of it. it's affecting you mentally.

or you're fucked up mentally and it's affecting you physically and/or spiritually.

or you're fucked up spiritually and you're just fucking up some things and not others. and so on.

like.. do people understand what's it's like to always be under assault or strain in one of these areas and have almost none or no support? what it's like to be a minority with social issues and physical issues (chronic and accute)?

it's a godddamn nightmare.

this shit. and people. goddamn the fuckinh people.

sometimes they're good. so good. and other times they may as well be demons. really.

I'm tired. I've over extended myself. I need to eat. and maybe get a little sun and sugar.

but mostly?

MOSTLY?

i actually need the goddamn love ive been seeking from another human being for my whole life. yeah

i actually need the sort of love that's described with words like soul mate, eternal, unconditional

and to feel that same love for the other person..

and every time. idk. i get overwhelmed? too excited. too ready and committed. i fall fast and hard.

i know what i like. i know who and how and what i am. if i want to love you.. i will give you everything short of what i cannot give you.

like my cats. or my health (bc wtf)

but i would try so very hard to do everything in my power to support. i would be the most loyal and loving person. i would learn you inside and out. how to pleasure, how to relieve, how to teach, how to learn, how to be and be there.

...

maybe that frightens people.

i'm just an anxious cringefail guy. i'm pretty boring, i'd say. but im hot and smart and funny and talented. i like to get better at anything i do. i'm always curious. love cats and nature and science and thunderstorms and autumn and life and strange things

ranting. gah. i just need to get it out of me.

because .. i know i'll never find the love im looking for.

i'm tired

i'm more likely to gain enlightenment than to find the woman im looking for

so imma devote myself to that 🤷🏽‍♂️

[inkstainedwanderer]

I told myself this would not be a blog for arguing but...

A wheel is not going to help a grocery list. Nor can it take input like "I'm feeling something like this dish, but I dont have time and my partner has an allergy" and give you an alternative you may not have thought of.

We've cliff notes'd things for ages but they dont always have the info you want or includes info you dont. I'm horrible at notes because of attention span issues and this seems like an appropriate tool/alternative than copying someone's notes or trying to find something online. The repetition from you inputting your prompt can even help with memory because writing down IS proven to be helpful even if you lack the attention/organizational skills for note taking.

I am great at google, but you're lying to yourself if you havent noticed that google is becoming increasingly difficult to get answers you want from proper sources and not just websites that paid to be higher in the listing. Page 2 is no longer the hidden gem of info that it once was and sometimes we dont want to hyperfixate all day on something we wondered in the middle of the night. And if you arent sure how to word your search you may not get anything helpful at all.

Calculators cant help show the work or break down the problem. If you input something wrong you'll get a wrong answer and have no idea why. Maybe you were looking for a percentage and put in the wrong symbol because fuck percentages. Maybe your brain cant wrap around the idea of decimal points or you dont have the skills to do something more complex than simple math. Not everyone's brain is suited for mathematics.

AI has it's problems, but most agree that the issue is with people using it as the end product to be lazy. These people arent doing that. They're using it as a tool to make something they feel deficient in a little easier.

When I was in college for CompSci, the head of the whole tech department was one of my teachers. He told us during exams to use our books and google. Why? Because if we have an issue in the real world we need to know how to best use our tools to solve the answer rather than bemoan not being smarter or committing a class lesson to memory. The smart thing to do is to find the answer with whatever means we have.

So no, they aren't stupid for using a tool the way it's meant to be used. They're clever for figuring out a way to make something work for them that wasnt working before.

Now, if you want to argue ethics, that's something different but even so, the only harm what these people are doing is using a tool you dont want used. That is an issue because AI isnt going anywhere. Balking isnt going to make it go away. Rather than outright wanting it gone, the focus should be on teaching people to use these tools ethically and responsibly and supporting models that have been ethically trained.

I used ChatGPT recently when making stickers for my friends' wedding. I had the idea and the skill to make everything, but puns are not my strong suit and i wanted a pun in place of certain text. Google isnt going to help me there. Crowd sourcing ideas would, but I didnt want to wait days for an answer that fit, so I told the AI my plan, the theme, ideas, and what sort of things I was looking for and it gave me great results. None were perfect but with minor tweaking on my end I walked away with some cute puns. The couple are excited for the stickers, I'm happy with my contribution. 10/10 I would turn to AI for similar ideas again.

[queercontrarian]

⛄❄️⛄❄️⛄

You have done so well answering your elf's questions. There's about 60% of a gift shaped by the design team, but before we commit:

Is there a fic you would want to read that hasn't been done yet? (Any ship, even outside of tamsand?)

Any other input for a gift idea since we've begun corresponding?

Don't worry, the messages won't stop after this, but the elves like to have a solid plan in place before the production season really ramps up! (We are also drooling over thoughts of salmon tartes and farm boy Tamlin. 🤤)

❄️💋❄️💋❄️💋❄️

a whole design team? for meee? 😩

something i'd like to see that hasn't been done yet... well within tamsand i'm super curious how their relationships with the other people in each others lives are. like for example how do tamlin and the other two batboys interact? do they at all? as for other ships, i am very attached to cresseida. she's a pretty minor character in the book and even less present in fandom, so you don't have to include her or make her a big part or anything, i just absolutely love her and i see far too little of her. also i love silly or absurd situations.

genuinely and truly, do whatever you think works best with the gift you have planned! i fully trust you and am so so excited for whatever you're cooking up!!

p.s. ever since you asked about the food i have been craving salmon tarte like crazy. i think i'll have to ask my mom for the recipe and splurge next week...