#but that's what happens when 2 fixations meet lol

[tblsomedoodles]

FW! Mikey crochets!

he does a lot of other things too and crochet isn't his main thing (i think Raph eventually takes that as his main hobby later on) but he does do it!

[alwaysbethewest]

TLOU fic: See Me After

Merry Christmas @auteurdelabre! I'm your Secret Santa for this year's @pedrostories exchange and I have a little gift for you 🥰 Most of my writing is light and fluffy so it was a fun challenge to get a prompt like forbidden relationships and figure out how to spin it, haha. I had already been thinking about sex pollen and then you told me you love that trope, so here we are. I hope you enjoy this, and that you have a very happy holiday!

Title: See Me After Pairing: Joel/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word count: 2.4k Content/warnings: Pre-series, reader is Sarah's teacher and around Joel's age. Sex pollen, masturbation, sex, breaking of school district policy on multiple levels lol. Unbetaed but thanks as always to @fleetwoodmactshirt and @mourningbirds1 for their invaluable advice and cheerleading.

Mrs. Taylor, the third grade math teacher, had told you about the fraternization policy your first week at the school—and the incident back in ’97 that necessitated it in the first place.

“I’ll tell you what,” she’d said conspiratorially, “I’m not so sure it would’ve made it into the handbook if the dad Miss Kayla was stepping out with didn’t happen to be married to the PTA president’s sister.”

But he had been, and it’s there now in black and white on page 16 of the packet you’d received from HR: District Policy 3A(1) On fraternization with students’ family members. In short, dating parents is not allowed.

Amid lesson plans and curriculum revision, dating is the last thing on your mind anyway and you don’t think much about it beyond the opportunity for break room gossip. You’re too busy learning the ropes at a new school, and when the weekends come you’re focused on getting your laundry done and seeing your friends. Romance falls by the wayside and you barely miss it.

Then the fall term starts, and Sarah Miller joins your class.

Mr. Miller is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s all broad shoulders and deep brown eyes, thick hair falling in soft curls over his forehead and a comfortable Texan accent from his mouth. He repeats your name as you shake hands and between his deep voice and the large, calloused hand firmly gripping yours, you feel your knees start to buckle and you know you’re fucked.

A little fantasy never hurt anybody. There’s no District Policy 3A(2) On fantasizing about that one hot dad. This is what you tell yourself at the end of Curriculum Night, after you’ve gone home and showered and climbed into bed, ready to decompress from meeting every new student and their parents in one whirlwind evening.

What were those hands so big for if not to imagine how they’d cup your hips, how firmly they’d grip your thighs and part them to discover you? Why have a voice that deep, that little bit rough around the edges, if not to hear it moan in your ear and tell you, come on, baby, just like that?

You don’t mean for it to turn into a fixation. It’s just an easy, unattainable fantasy. Cooking him dinner and him thanking you by fucking you on the kitchen table, coaxing a new orgasm from you until you’re so wrung out he needs to help you to bed. Him picking you up in his truck and driving you somewhere quiet, like two teenagers sneaking off, straddling him in the cramped space to ride his hand, and the beard burn you get on your neck doesn’t even sting. It’s a dopamine boost.

Sarah’s dad is kind of a dick.

You catch him outside on a Friday, waiting to pick up his daughter after school. He’s leaning against the door of his truck, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses hiding his eyes. You try not to let your gaze linger too long on his biceps and how his t-shirt sleeves strain to contain them.

“Mr. Miller.”

He starts when you greet him and you wonder if he’d been dozing behind the shades, despite the cacophony of schoolchildren spilling out onto the sidewalk around you. But he gives you a polite nod in return.

“I just wanted to remind you of the parent volunteer opportunities for this year,” you say, holding out a printed flyer.

He accepts the paper, glances down at it, and grimaces like you’ve asked him to sign up for a root canal.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t crumple the paper but he drops it through the open window of his truck onto the passenger seat, where you imagine it getting lost amid the standard car detritus of fast food napkins and gas station receipts.

You wait a beat, but he doesn’t say anything more.

“Okay, well. Have a good weekend,” you tell him. He nods again, silently, and you think his eyes have probably already shut again as you turn to go. But then you hear a quiet, “you too,” like an afterthought, and for some reason—insanity, perhaps—you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you walk away.

That night, he turns a little mean. Selfish. He puts you on your knees at his feet, offers you his dick to suck, teases his foot between your legs so you can grind against his shoe for relief. You press hard against your clit and focus on his cock, imagining how he’d fill your mouth, salt-skin-heat on your tongue, and it’s mortifying how quickly it makes you come, alone and muffled against your pillow.

There’s a rumor going around school that the fifth grade chemistry teacher, Mrs. Fontaine, is a witch. If it’s true, she must be one of the good ones, because she’s only ever been nice to you.

It’s a Tuesday and you come across her in the break room, perusing a newspaper and drinking coffee out of a mug decorated with a black cat. She’s never seemed too concerned with dispelling the rumors.

“Ah, here,” she says, nodding hello as you head to the fridge. “Your horoscope. What you are dreaming of will find you, whether or not you think you’re ready for it. Embrace your destiny, even if it means breaking a few rules.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Breaking rules? Are you sure you’ve got the right sign?” you joke.

She laughs knowingly. “The stars are telling you to let loose; maybe you should listen.”

“Maybe these celestial bodies don’t really know my business,” you counter. Mrs. F just shakes her head, like you’re the one being silly here.

Sarah’s dad blows off your scheduled parent-teacher meeting and sends her uncle in his place.

It makes you prickle with irritation.

Tommy Miller is nice enough. He’s younger than you, and a natural flirt, quick with a smile and a polite yes or no, ma’am when you ask him a question. He also has no idea what subject you teach or which grade Sarah is in, but he seems sincerely pleased to hear she’s doing well in your class, and he promises to share your report with her father, who will definitely, definitely follow up.

You’re not holding your breath.

In the final week of the semester, Sarah hands you an envelope on her way to her seat. Your name is scratched on the front in boxy letters. Inside, the note reads:

I’m sorry I missed our one-on-one. I had a work project go overtime and couldn’t get away. Thanks for meeting with Tommy instead. He told me Sarah is keeping up and about your reccomendation for the competition. That’s very cool.

I know you all want parents to volunteer. Ain’t nobody wants to eat my bake sale cupcakes but if you have anything that needs fixed around the classroom I can do that for you. Tommy mentioned there was some loose tile by the door.

Call me to schedule it and I’ll show up this time, promise.

-Joel

The promise gets you. You sigh, thinking you might forgive him after all, and get started jotting down a list of the loose tiles and crooked cabinet doors your maintenance guy has been ignoring for the past year.

He shows up in a tool belt and work boots, on Saturday morning as you’d arranged. The building is deserted and it’s almost serene walking through the empty hallways, silent but for the click of your shoes and the heavy tread of his.

You feel slightly self-conscious, being alone with him in person after all the time you’ve spent with the thought of him in private, but you try your best to push that down so you can appear professional.

Mr. Miller—Joel—seems at ease, rambling about the history of the district school buildings’ retrofits and how many decades it’s been since they’ve been properly updated. It’s endearingly uninteresting, reminding you of countless students who have subjected you to impromptu lectures on their own special interests over the years, and you’re biting back a smile by the time you reach your own classroom.

He takes in the room with an expert’s eye, systematically going through the list you’d made him and making notes to himself, finally tucking his pencil behind his ear for safekeeping when he’s done.

You’ve got your own list to get through, to close out the term and ready for the upcoming one—lesson plans to print and organize, task cards to laminate, books to sort in the classroom library as you swap out this year’s unit for the next. You busy yourself while he gets to work and there’s a companionable silence in the room, broken by the shuffle of papers and books on your end, hammering and the occasional muttered curse word from his.

You allow yourself to watch him when his back is turned. You watch his back, in fact—the sturdy slope of it down to the little patch of bare skin that reveals itself when he reaches forward and his shirt rides up. His skin looks soft. Lush, you think, and you luxuriate in the vision of him until you realize you’re biting your lip and force yourself to snap out of it and get back to alphabetizing.

Coming to a break, you stand up and stretch, then slip off your shoes and wiggle your toes. Yesterday, Mrs. Fontaine had dropped off a tin of cookies and in the rush of wishing your students a happy break, you’d forgotten to grab them on your way out. They’re still sitting on the corner of your desk, and you perch next to them and open the box.

“Cookie?” you offer. “My co-worker made them.”

Joel has been re-hanging cupboard doors to make them sit straight, and he looks up from his screwdriver. “Thanks.”

He washes his hands with care at the corner sink and comes to settle by your side, a respectful distance away. You munch on the cookies, looking around the room to admire his work. The changes are subtle, but for as many hours as you’ve spent in this room, they stand out to you. Little things like the cupboard doors closing properly, and the wooden border around your white board looking good as new instead of cracked along the edge.

“It looks great,” you tell him. “I appreciate your work.”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing, but you see the smile on his face and can tell he’s happy you’re pleased.

It hits you first, you think. The strangest sensation, like a ripple through your body awakening every nerve.

“I feel…” you start, unsure.

What is it you feel?

You look at him and you watch as it strikes him too, as his jaw drops and his breathing goes shallow.

Your body feels drawn to his like there’s a magnet pulling you in. The air is suddenly thick, sticky with arousal brewing between you. Your eyes are locked with his and you see his pupils dilate, his gaze turning heavy with intent.

“Maybe we just… need some fresh air,” you suggest. It’s a struggle to turn from him to walk to the door and when you reach it your body aches. You look back at him, seeing the pained expression on his face and how tightly his fingers are gripping the edge of the desk. Your eyes drop—you can’t help it—to see the bulge in his jeans, and as if your body has taken over all decision-making, your fingers reach past the knob to engage the lock instead.

He kisses how you thought he would. Intense and focused. But his hands are nicer, gentler, than in your imagination. They smooth over your curves, settle on your back and your ass to pull you closer, into the space between his legs. His arms are a solid grip around you and your body melts against his until he’s the only thing holding you up.

He turns the two of you around so you can sit on the desk while he stands over you, panting when your lips break apart.

“I’ve never felt like this,” he whispers. “I feel—I need—”

He kisses you desperately and slides his hands under your shirt. The touch of his fingers on your body is like a dam breaking; now that you’ve felt it you need every inch of his skin against yours. Your hands knock as you rush to remove each others’ clothes, and it would be almost comical if you didn’t feel like you might die without him inside you soon.

He’s nudging his cock at your entrance, a spellbound, breath-held silence between you and a wanting ache in your gut.

“Please,” you whisper. It was chilly this morning but now you’re flushed with heat. His skin is glowing with sweat—it almost distracts you, noticing how the hard angle of his collarbone is softened by the sheen of it. You lean forward, set your mouth to his skin to taste him, and he groans.

He grinds against you, the thick length of him riding over your cunt. It feels like a tease, but it’s not; he’s holding himself back.

“Tell me you want it,” he breathes.

“Joel,” you moan. “Please. I want you.”

Your body arches as his cock drives you open, pleasure buzzing through your veins. He bows his head, mouth at your neck, the soft scratch of his beard pressing into your skin. With a gasping breath, he murmurs, “I wanted you—all this time,” and you think you might see stars.

You ignore the phone ringing, but when the answering machine switches on and you hear the urgency in your friend’s voice, you reluctantly drag yourself to the kitchen to pick up.

“Tell me you didn’t eat those cookies,” Mrs. Fontaine says.

You open your mouth, wondering what you should say, but she barrels on without you, explaining the mix-up with the special batch she’d made for date night with her husband and how she’s only just realized the mistake, and maybe she’s making a big deal out of nothing but you didn’t eat the cookies yet, did you?

You look up and see Joel leaning in the doorway to your bedroom, naked but for a pair of shorts, and abruptly you decide you don’t have time for this conversation.

“You know what? I’m gonna have to call you back,” you tell her, and with that, you hang up the phone.

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 2523 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions. Jessica being Jessica once more….

A/n: Once again, we will see more Paul soon. Just trust. I hope you guys enjoy!

Previous chapter Next chapter

Dune masterlist

Four———

[Six days until the ceremony]

It is always is the same recurrent nightmare.

Trapped in the desert once more, surrounded by dunes. The sky is an angry crimson, and the temperature is impossibly hot. There is a storm growing on the horizon, and the wind is whipping up the sand into your eyes.

You are filled with a growing sense of hysteria, as you are overwhelmed by the burning heat and the constant bombardment of sand.

It grows darker, and the storm grows in intensity. You start to feel frantic, your breathing heavy, your heart pounding in your chest. A thunderous, booming voice fills your mind.

"Fear is the mind-killer," it whispered, "Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.”

The sand whipping around you begins to feel like glass, slicing away at you.

“I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.”

A wave of pure terror washes over you, a feeling of doom and impending doom growing stronger.

“And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Just as you think you can't handle it anymore, you jolt awake. You eyes adjust to the light, and you begin to make out the figure who had awoken you, standing above.

“Irulan?” You question as she begins to take a few steps back from you bedside as you swiftly began to sit up.

Her ceremonial Bene Geserit attire immediately caused chill to run down your spine. She stands near your doorway, you could barely make out the cold, emotionless look on her face through the thick black veil.

"It is time to meet with Reverend Mother Jessica... come, let us be quick."

You shoot up in bed and instantly start pummeling questions at her. Why is she here? Where is father? Has something happened?

She avoids your questions, seemingly aware of your growing frustration and confusion. She speaks in a flat, emotionless tone, with no hint of emotion or explanation.

“Come”

She leads you out of your room, walking down the hallway and taking you to the library. She is silent, the only sound coming from her is her footsteps echoing lightly off the tiled floors as you make your way to the library.

You can feel your blood rushing through your entire body, anxiety follows.

As you stop outside the room your sister turns to you and takes your hands and squeezing them lightly. “You must obey the mother, sister, please.” Before you can say a word she shoves you into the room.

Standing opposite you is Jessica Atreides, dark black robe and tight black veil covering her face, the only glimpse of her being the blue gleam from her eyes.

Once the door closes, you speak “I demand to know what is going on.” Your voice is stern and booms through the empty library.

“The beginnings of the truth” she says coldly. "Now, come here," she gestures for you to move closer to her.

You silently walk towards her, heart pounding out of your chest as Jessica’s demeanor becomes harder, and her tone becomes sharper.

"Kneel. Show respect and obedience. You must prove your willingness."

“Prove my willingness?” You question

“Silence!”

Her gaze remains steadily on you, demanding your submission. She moves her right hand revealing a box. As you kneel down in front of jessica, your eyes fixate on the box she has just uncovered.

“Put your hand in the box”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with questions. What does this mean? What will happen when you put your hand in the box?

As you extend your hand towards the box, suddenly Jessica thrusts the gom jabbar towards your neck, holding it firmly against your skin.

“An animal caught in a trap will naw off its own leg. What will you do? Resist your impulses? Or die like an animal?” She says.

The words hit you like a blow, a cold chill running down your spine. You realize that the test is about more than just physical pain; It's about the mind and the strength to resist the instincts of self-preservation.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still and resist the urge to pull away from the gom jabbar at your neck. You look up at jessica, your expression defiant but determined.

Slowly, with nervous determination, you place your hand into the box. Suddenly, a searing hot, sharp pain washes over you, causing you to flinch and cry out in pain.

With each moment, the pain grows more intense, as if a molten fire is spreading from your hand to every nerve ending of your body. The agony is overwhelming, and it feels like a thousand knives are piercing your flesh. It is beyond anything you could have imagined, and your resolve is tested to the limit.

Tears stream down your face, and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You feel the blood pulse in your ears as the pain courses through you. Yet, despite the overwhelming pain, you find a deep, powerful, almost hypnotic focus. The gom jabbar at your throat now feels like a caress compared to the excruciating agony in your hand. Your entire awareness is concentrated on the pain, your world narrowed down to this single, burning sensation.

Just as suddenly as the pain started, it begins to subside. the intensity gradually lessens, until eventually, The pain is gone.

You look up at jessica, your eyes wide and tearful. You see a sense of pride in her eyes, and a small smile on her lips. "You did it," she murmurs softly, her gaze steady on you. "You passed the test."

As you stand before Jessica, your gaze is steady, but your expression is sullen. Despite your success in enduring the box, you are filled with anger and resentment. You know the pain and trauma you've endured, and all the deception that led you here.

You look at her, your eyes hard and defiant. "What now?" you demand, your voice tense and angry.

Her voice is low and soothing. "In order to prepare you for what will be, I must first help you remember what has been done before. I will reveal to you a secret that is known only to the most devout of the Bene Geserit, our sisterhood's most closely guarded mystery."

She continues speaking, her voice growing more intense with each word. "All this time since birth, your body has been shaped and trained to fulfill this moment. It has been honed, conditioned, and prepared for this specific purpose.

"From your early days of life, you were conditioned and trained by your mother and sister in our ways," She explains, "There has been a master plan set in motion, orchestrated by our sisterhood, in order to ensure that your union with paul will be the most significant one in history."

Jessica continues, still speaking calmly but with a sense of intensity underlining her words. "There is a prophecy, that a special individual, known as the Kwisatz Haderach, would be born. A male Bene Geserit.

We have been watching and manipulating circumstances to fulfill this prophecy for generations. Paul is the one who was foretold, and he will be able to bring about the desired outcome we so greatly need."

You are left standing in silence, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of all the information that has just been presented to you. As jessica speaks, it is clear that she fully believes in the prophecy and its implications.

Fate is something you never believed in, yet as the wool that has been placed over your eyes starts to slip you realize—your fate has been decided centuries before your birth.

She looks at you, her face serious but understanding. "You will make the future bright for the imperium.”

jessica looks at you calmly, her demeanor unfazed by your anger. "Now you will continue your preparation for the marriage to Paul. There is much more to do, and you must be ready to fulfill your purpose."

"I understand you must feel betrayed," she adds, her tone softer now, "but understand that what we are doing is for the greater good of the Imperium."

For all her soft words, you cannot shake the feeling of betrayal. You know that you have been pushed and manipulated into this role, and you cannot help but feel resentment and anger toward those who have done this to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain control of your emotions. "What happens when paul and i marry?" you ask, your tone cautious.

“We leave for Arrakis.”

You feel a sense of dread wash over you at the mention of the desert planet arrakis. You know that the journey there will be perilous, and that the environment there is harsh and unforgiving. Nonetheless, you nod, determined to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

"And what comes after that?" you ask, pressing for more details.

"Once we arrive, you will play a crucial role in the upcoming war with the house harkonnen," Jessica explains. "You must learn the ways of the freemen, and help Paul navigate the treacherous political landscape. he needs your support now more than ever."

You mull over her words, feeling a sense of burden and responsibility settling down upon you. This is not what you had expected or wanted, but you know you have no choice in the matter.

Jessica looks at you intently, as if reading your thoughts. "You may not have chosen this fate,” she says quietly. "but it is yours nonetheless. And you will find that the path you follow is one of great honor and significance."

You nod silently, your mind still swirling with confusion and resentment.

"For now, you should rest," Jessica says, her voice gentle. "You have faced great trials today, and you need time to recover and process all that has happened."

You feel relieved by her offer. Yes, you think, a chance to clear your mind and gather your thoughts would be welcome. You nod weakly in agreement, and jessica gives you a small, reassuring smile. "Goodnight, my dear. we shall speak again soon."

You turn your head as you hear the door open. you look up in surprise as irulan enters the room. A pang of anxiety and unease washes over you as you wonder why she has come. Was she privy to all that has been said and done here?

Irulan gazes at you with a cool, unreadable expression, her demeanor giving away nothing. Her presence makes you feel on edge, as if she is both an ally and an enemy at once. You wait in anticipation for her to speak, your mind swirling with questions and suspicions.

“I shall walk you back to your room, sister” she says

You look at her hesitantly, not entirely sure if you trust her. But you know that you have no reason not to go with her, and you feel too exhausted to protest. You nod silently, signaling your assent, and together, you leave the room with her.

As you walk side by side, Irulan is silent for a long moment. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but confident. "You are a brave one, to have endured the box. few could ever imagine the pain of that test."

You look at her, unsure of how to respond. what was her purpose in telling you this? Was it a genuine compliment, or a veiled threat? You remain cautious, waiting for her to reveal her intent.

She continues, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "however, be warned, sister. There are many more trials ahead, and some may be even more difficult to bear."

You feel a chill run down your spine at her words. You had imagined that the test of pain was the worst that you would face, but now you realize that it was only the beginning.

“What is to happen to father after the wedding, do you know?”

Irulan glances at you, a small, barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "As i suspected," she murmurs, almost to herself.

Before you can respond, she continues. "you are concerned for father, i see. Rest assured, he will play a pivotal role in the events that loom on the horizon."

You feel a brief sense of relief at her words, but you cannot help but sense that they are not the full truth. why won't she just be straight with you?

"There is more to this, is there not?" you say, your voice tinged with skepticism. "I sense that you are withholding information from me. Why?"

Irulan pauses for a moment, her expression inscrutable. "You are wise, sister," she says finally. "Many pieces are still in motion, and i cannot reveal all at this moment. I promise you, in time, all will be made clear."

You study her face for a moment, searching for any sign of deception or falsehood. She maintains her composure, giving nothing away. you sigh, frustrated but resigned.

"Fine," you say, "I shall have to wait then. but I hope you will not keep me in the dark for much longer."

"Have no fear, sister," Irulan replies, her tone gentle yet firm. "I understand your desire for knowledge, but sometimes it is best to wait and observe. Trust in the process, and in due time, all will be made clear to you."

With that, she gives you a small nod, and you continue walking side by side in silence.

You feel uneasy as you reach your room, unsure of how to interpret irulan's words. Was she truly on your side, or did she have some ulterior motive? You decide to take her advice and wait for the full truth to come to light, and hope that it would be worth the wait.

"Thank you, Irulan," you say, turning to face her. "Your guidance, though cryptic, has been valuable."

She looks at you for a moment, then nods slightly. "goodnight, sister. sleep well."

You send her a warm smile as you stop outside your chambers. “I hope this is not our last encounter…” you say

Irulan gives you a small, enigmatic smile in return. "Fear not, sister. our paths will surely cross again."

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and uncertainty.

You enter your chambers, feeling both relieved and confused. you sit down on your bed, trying to make sense of the day's events. your mind is a swirl of emotions, from pain and fear to hope and determination.

You lay down, closing your eyes, but sleep does not come easily. Your mind is still racing, trying to process all that has happened. but eventually, fatigue wins over, and you drift off into an uneasy slumber. It is always the same nightmare.

———

Next chapter

🍾 Taglist @aoi-targaryen

Want to join the taglist? Just ask!

[maybege]

What If - Part Two

Summary: Your alpha invites you to spend the night with him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking (again lol), oral fixation maybe, oral sex (f receiving), use of a blindfold, crying during sex (the good kind!), overstimulation (a little?), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation,

Happy Weekend! If you follow me on tumblr, you might already know that I had to split Part 2 into two due to its size (pun intended), so this is technically Part 2.1 and basically just porn, so beware. I really enjoyed reading your comments both on Tumblr and AO3 and I am looking forward to seeing your reactions to this part, too! (Also I promise the comment reblogs on tumblr are coming, I just need to recover from TTPD).

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Considering how intimately you had gotten to know Paz Vizsla, you were surprised by how nervous you were about the thought of seeing him again.

The next day had you feeling skittish, even feeling a little uneasy. You knew that the clans were going into negotiations. Though they called it strategy meetings, everybody who could think two steps ahead knew that this was the first hurdle when it came to the clans working together.

Briggs had been tense at the first meal of the day, already suspecting that it would end in a debacle and now here you were, helping to take an inter-clan inventory of supplies for when worst came to worst.

Until a giant shadow fell over you.

“Calm me.”

“What?” you looked up at the armoured alpha, the one you had not seen at all this morning.

“Calm me,” he repeated and you saw how his gloved hands had clenched into fists, “I am this close to bashing that di’kut’s head in and I am not sure how beneficial that would be for our inter-clan relations.“

You smiled, somehow doubting that he was truly considering violence against Axe Woves (because there was no question he was talking about him) but, as his calmer, it was your duty to take all hints seriously. And if this wasn’t a hint, then you did not know what was.

“I can’t just,” you paused, searching for the proper words since the foundlings were not too far away, “calm you out here in the open.”

Paz tilted his head. “Calming isn’t about the sex, love, it's about the scent,” he grunted before tugging his scarf down. “I am asking you to scent me.”

Somehow that kind of request made you even more nervous. You had not seen his skin the day before but now the sliver of tan that was revealed to you made your heart skip a beat. You stepped against him, ignoring your shaking hands as you stood on your tiptoes and ran your nose over his neck.

Breathing in his scent, you found he smelled just as good as he did last night, of spice and smoke and something woodsy that made you want to close your eyes and think of spending a day between the trees. You repeated the movement, your nose brushing against the spot just under his ear and he groaned. The sound, low and deep, made you tremble.

Faintly, you could feel him shift until his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer. His skin was hot, heated by the fabric and you closed your eyes. You stood so close to him you felt engulfed by his presence, by his scent. Forgotten was the inventory, forgotten were the meetings you were supposed to attend today. All you wanted to do was to scent him, to coax his scarf down just a little more, to see if you could feel any stubble on his jaw or maybe even a beard.

“Stars, ‘mega,” you heard him growl, his voice so close to your ear it sent a rush of need through you.  

When you pulled away you felt intoxicated, a little less inhibited. Paz smelled so much better now that he had a hint of you on him, you found, and you made a mental note to keep up this scenting practice for as long as he would let you.

“So … no sex then,” you concluded, trying to keep your sadness out of your voice. But of course, the man in front of you caught it like he seemed to catch everything about you.

“Disappointed?”

You avoided his visor, hoping that he could not see the way you tried to squeeze your thighs together.

“I keep thinking about last night,” he revealed, “Keep thinking about how tight you gripped me, how you opened up for me, how you looked sitting on my cock. Did you think about it?”

You nodded. “I did.”

“Hm,” he replied, “And what did you like about it, omega? What do you like about me?”

“I like how much bigger you are,” you confessed in a whisper, “I wondered …”

“Wondered what?” he asked, his hand pulling you closer, “Tell me, omega.”

“I wondered what it would be like to be underneath you,” you continued, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

His thumb rubbed over the inside of your wrist, scenting you, “Did anyone ever take you from behind?”

Your silence was answer enough.

“Here is what we are going to do,” he rumbled, then, “You are coming to my bunk tonight. You will bring nothing but your softest robe, your favourite snack. I want you naked when I arrive, understand? Naked and waiting for me. I will put a blindfold on you, and then I am going to put my mouth on that little pussy of yours. How's that sound?”

“Good.”

“That is what I like to hear. And after I made you come on my tongue, I am going to position you just like this.” He turned you around, your back to his chest, “You will be flat on your belly, little one, I will spread your legs and then I am going to fuck you from behind until all you can say is my name.”

Your breathing picked up, heart rate as well. Felt your pussy weep at his words and even though he wore his helmet, your head lolled to the side, enabling him to scent you if he could.

“Will you …”

“Will I what?”

“Will you come inside me again?”

“Do you want me to?”

Nodded, embarrassed but nodded. He chuckled, low and dark, his finger tipping your chin up, “Then I will, sweet omega. I will come inside you. If you stay the night, I might just put you on my cock and come inside you again sometime during the night, fill you up real good. Would you like that?”

“Stars yes.”

*

You could not focus the rest of the day, your thoughts plagued by a large blue figure.

You were so flustered, in fact, that Chants kept asking you what was wrong and you were not brave enough to tell him. Until you looked at Paz one too many times and your best friend put two and two together.

“I didn’t see you last night after the fire,” he noted, his voice way too innocent for your liking, “How was it? Do you like the alpha you are paired with? What was his name again – Wizz… Wizz-something?”

“Vizsla,” you corrected him before you knew better, “Paz Vizsla.”

By now, you knew your friend long enough to know when he was teasing you. And the twinkle in his eyes told you that Chants was in teasing mode. “He is quite big, isn’t he?”

You swallowed, trying to focus on the bandages you were rolling up. “Yeah, he is.”

“Is he big … everywhere?”

“Chants!”

“What?” he laughed, avoiding the bundled-up wool that flew his way, “A friend can ask. “

“How about you tell me how it is going with Djarin?”

“Oh we are doing just fine,” he chirped, winking at you, “Though I spend my night in my own bunk.”

“I was in my own bunk, too,” you protested, hoping he did not notice how flustered you were.

“Yeah, after your alpha brought you home,” he replied easily, counting a stack of jars, “And left his cape for you.”

“He smells good …”

“Oh no doubt,” he smirked, “And what was this morning about, then? Him having you scent him out in the open?”

You did not have an answer to that.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “I don’t think any of the other alphas left their capes for their calmers. Maybe something is different about you two?”

And though you had to force yourself not to answer, you could not help but spend the rest of the day daydreaming about what it could be like to be Paz Vizsla’s omega.

*

Paz did not have one of the tents that were attributed to the warriors. Instead, he had his own little room in one of the ships. You knew it spoke to his high position in the clan that he got these private quarters and it felt strangely intimate that he allowed you in here on his own.

Just like he had promised, a blindfold was waiting for you. And next to it, a hastily scribbled note. Get comfortable, it said, and by that I mean get naked.

With a grin, you let your eyes roam around the room and land on a bowl of fruit on the table. Had he gotten them for you? Your chest felt strangely warm at the thought and your heart raced as you popped one of the sweet berries into your mouth. Outside, the sun was lowering in the sky, you knew he would be here soon. And you had been up a long time already, too, you could feel the ache in your limbs as you sat down on the mattress.

You squeaked in surprise when you sank in way more than you had expected. Testing the softness, you found that not only was his bedding incredibly soft, no, but the mattress was much softer than the standard issue as well. Inevitably you smiled at the realization that Paz Vizsla just kept on surprising you. Your big warrior was a big teddy bear.

You took a deep breath and then slipped out of your dress, the cool air brushing over your bare skin. Standing completely naked in a strange room made you feel a little uneasy. After all, you were not familiar with your surroundings and what if you accidentally had walked into someone else's room who had the same arrangement with their calmer?

Noticing how ridiculous your panic got, you rushed onto the bed before you could change your mind. You pulled the soft covers over your legs and relished in how they smelled just like him. Then you took the blindfold – it just as soft to the touch and you wondered if it was made from the same material as his bedding – and tied it around your head. Darkness immediately enveloped you, making you feel more nervous and, at the same time, calm.

Lying down slowly, you curled up under the heaps of blankets that soon warmed from your presence.

And before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep-

The rush of cold air through the open door barely woke you up. You felt disoriented and it took you a moment to remember that you had a blindfold on and that you were in Paz’s room, not your own. But if the door opened that meant someone was here and you were no longer alone. Every muscle in your body was tense as you debated with bated breath whether you should rip off the blindfold now or wait. Under no circumstances did you want to risk offending Paz but you also did not want to risk being subjected to someone who had no business being here.

“It is me, omega, you are safe.”

His deep voice had you relaxed immediately.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice coming closer, “Are you comfortable?”

Stretching your arms above you, you did your best to suppress a yawn. “Your bed is softer than I expected, alpha,” you teased, “I half thought I might be in the wrong room.”

“Nah,” his chuckle got overshadowed by the metallic clink of his armour landing on … the floor? The table? You were not quite sure but your main takeaway was that he was getting rid of said armour. Paz Vizsla was undressing for you. “Believe it or not I actually like soft things, too.”

“They would be great to build a nest with,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the fabric. But when you realized what you said, you froze. Had you really said that? Out loud? You hated that you could not see his reaction, whether his body tensed or he was trying to hide a grimace behind his helmet. All you could hear were his quiet breaths until the mattress dipped and he was sitting right next to you.

His scent was stronger, and unfiltered, making his proximity to you that much more exciting because he did not smell displeased. On the contrary.

“I bet,” he replied quietly, his voice a low growl. Warm, big hands found your calves under the blanket, slowly making their way up, “I bet you make the loveliest nests, omega.”

The odd (not odd, your brain provided, intimate) compliment still made your skin flush. Because all it made you think about was what it would be like to share your nest with him. Glorious, was the answer. It would be glorious.

“They aren’t too bad,” you admitted with a shrug, shivering when his fingers dug into your thighs for a brief moment, “I always get the really nice blankets from the market.”

You gasped when the blankets were pulled away, the cool air on your skin immediately replaced with his warm body. He hummed, his body weight settling over you. With so much naked skin against yours, you could hardly focus. He felt just as huge as he had looked yesterday and when he rested half-hard against your thigh, you squirmed.

“Maybe I can see your nests, one day,” he suggested lowly, his mouth brushing over your jaw and down your neck. His mouth brushing over your scent gland had your entire body jolt at the sensation, your blood thrumming with need. “When we have reclaimed Mandalore.”

You were so nervous, you did not know what to say. So your brain came up with the next best thing: Small talk. “I have never been to Mandalore before. Have you?”

“Grew up there,” he explained, nipping at your neck, “Until the – until then.”

You nodded, the pain in his voice enough to tell you that he had lived it all. It made you wonder how old he was – not old enough to have fought in there, surely, but maybe … clearly old enough to have vivid memories of that night. Your heart ached for him and you tilted your head up, a happy sigh escaping you when you got to brush your nose along the entirety of his throat.

Paz relaxed into you, his woody scent enveloping you both.

“That’s not what we are here for now, though, are we?”

His grip was tight on your jaw, strong enough to make sure you could not turn away from him and you could feel his eyes burning into you. You shook your head, nervously swallowing as your body already reacted to his words.

“Remind me again,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing over yours, “What are we here for, sweet omega?”

“You, uh, you …”

“Yes?”

You squirmed, embarrassed.

“Someone too shy to say it?” he teased you, the slight mocking undertone making you wetter than you wanted to admit. How did this man have this effect on you?

“That’s alright,” he said after a beat, “I can say it for you.”

“I am going to eat you out,” he whispered as if it were a secret between you, “I am going to feast on this pussy and then I am going to take you from behind and fill you up like you asked me to, omega. You will wake up tomorrow with so much come between your legs, there is no doubt who filled you up.”

You pressed your thighs together, trying to satiate the pulsing need in your core. “Alpha,” you whispered, unsure of what to say other than just beg him to take you.

“I am going to kiss you now, okay?”

He chuckled at your eager nod before fully pressing his lips to yours.

You were overwhelmed by the sensation. It had been so long since you had been kissed and Paz was a good kisser. The best kisser, actually, who seemed to know just what you needed. His stubble scratched your chin when his teeth dug into your bottom lip, pulling on it until you whimpered. The sting was quickly soothed by his tongue slipping into your mouth and dancing with yours. Your hands found the back of his head, too, playing with the short hairs there and his chest rumbled.

He dominated the kiss effortlessly and you let him, relaxing into the bed and wrapping your legs around him. The unmistakable shape of his cock twitched against your folds and could not resist the urge to grind against him.

Moans escaped both of you. “Fuck,” he hissed when he pulled away. Heavy breaths washed over your face and he rested his forehead against you, “Omega, you have no idea how much I needed you today. I was this close just calling you for the talks …”

“Why didn’t you, then?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed, “I am your calmer after all.”

Paz was silent for a moment as he dropped kisses along your neck and further down. Big hands were on your chest, cupping your tits and wasting no time to pinch your nipples. Just lightly at first, plucking at them before his fingers grew a little rougher. You gasped, arching your back off the bed and towards his mouth. Paz’s body vibrated.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, his tongue darting out to lick over your nipple, “The thought that all these other alphas get to see you look so pretty when I make you feel good …” he trailed off, his fingers tightening their pinch on your nipple and the pleasure mixed with a delicious level of pain. “I wanted you all for myself before we see Mandalore.”

“Now be a good girl for me and play with your tits,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for questions and you followed. For a moment, you mourned his absence but that did not last long when you felt his hands on your ankles, untangling your legs from his back and folding them to your chest.

Your breath stuttered. With your knees by your ears, you could feel the cool air on your most intimate part and not only that.

You felt exposed and vulnerable but also more turned on than ever. The knowledge that Paz could and probably was looking at you like this, his eyes on your glistening folds, sent another wave of heat through you. Your pussy pulsed and he must have seen it because he let out the lowest groan, causing your walls to clench again.

The sudden presence of his finger made you flinch in surprise and he pauses, the pad of his finger resting just above your clit. “This okay, omega?” he asked.

The smell of his arousal was already in the air but something in his tone still reassured you that he would stop, no questions asked, if you needed him to. And this sense of safety just added to your excitement.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathed, leaning your head back against the pillows.

“Good,” he rumbled, a second and third finger following before you could feel him slowly push inside you. The bed dipped and shifted underneath you as you both adjusted.

“What a beautiful pussy,” he mused, his thumb coming up to rub a circle over your clit and you whimpered, “Could stare at her all night long.”

“P-Paz, please.”

“What is it, little one?” he asked, his thumb steadily running over your clit, sending pulses through your entire body. But with how he had folded you in – “Use your words.”

“You just love to embarrass me, don’t you?” you blurted out, positively surprised at how put together you still sounded. Though you could not deny the breathlessness in your voice, either from excitement or arousal or both you could not say, but who could blame you when you had this massive man above you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite meal?

“I do,” he agreed and could feel his breath on your folds, the breadth of his shoulder between your legs as he slowly thrust his fingers in you, “Something about corrupting a sweet innocent omega like you makes my cock so hard.”

He licked a broad stripe up your pussy, from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes widened and your body bowed off the bed, your legs trying to close on him but the massive size of his body did a good job preventing it.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” he growled, before pressing a chaste kiss to your clit. “You better keep your legs right where I put ‘em, omega, or at the next meeting I am gonna keep you on your knees and have you cockwarm me with that pretty mouth of yours, understood?”

You forced your trembling hands behind your knees, pulling them to your chest and opening yourself up for him. “Sorry alpha,” you stuttered out. The image his words had conjured up in your head made you clench and you were sure he had seen it.

His hands tightened their grip on your body and his thumbs spread your folds for him as he went down on you like a man dying of thirst. You would have felt oddly exposed to him if it had not been for his tongue and his lips being everywhere, driving you absolutely crazy.

He expertly sucked on your clit until you were sure that not only had you ruined his sheets but that it would only be one more second before you came. But then, he switched back to your entrance, running his tongue along your folds, pressing kisses everywhere until your arousal was at a steady thrum – still pleasant but nowhere near the edge where you had been before. Then returned to your clit, making you see stars before switching back to the rest of you.

Only when you could feel him smiling against your thighs did you realize he was doing it on purpose.

Tears collected in the corners of your eyes, you were that desperate to come. “P-please, alpha,” you gasped out, gripping your knees hard so as to keep to his instructions. Surely, if you did everything he told you to he would reward you. You had been good for him after all …

“Please what?” he mocked you, “What do you need, sweetheart, tell me?”

“Please let me come,” you mumbled, a little flustered.

“Look at that,” he marvelled, “Yesterday you weren’t sure whether you could come on my fat cock, and now you are begging me to let you come on my tongue.” Another well-placed opened-mouthed kiss against your clit and you broke apart.

“Please!” You sobbed, tears now soaking the blindfold, “Please alpha, I will be so good, I promise, you – I will let you do anything just p-please …”

His ministrations paused and the lack of touch almost broke you.

“Are you crying, omega?” he asked, his voice strangely rough. The movement made his stubble brush over the sensitive skin of your hips.

Your cheeks flared with heat in embarrassment but you nodded nonetheless. “It just feels o good,” you admitted in a whisper.

Paz let out a long breath, even that stimulated your clit until you were squirming in his hands. “Fuck,” he murmured, his warm forehead falling onto your lower belly, “that shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.”

And then he let you come. He made you come.

His lips closed around your clit and all the tricks he pulled out before, he let them play out fully. With your hips grinding against his face, seeking to get closer to him, Paz had his hands holding you still, steadily spreading you for him until you were crying into the cool air.

Even after the first waves of pleasure had rolled over you, the alpha between your thighs did not cease his movements. His mouth got gentler as he licked all that you gave him and sometimes you swore you could feel him hum in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he praised you quietly and despite everything, you felt yourself flush in arousal at his praise, “You did so good for me.”

Completely out of breath, you felt like you had just experienced one of those training sessions Chants did in the warrior section and that you usually admired from afar.

“Stars,” you breathed, your hands letting go from their grip on your knees. Your legs ached from how you held them for so long and you winced at the movement. Paz was there though, his hands running over your skin and gently helping your legs down before pressing kisses to your thighs.

“You did so good for me,” he repeated affectionately, “’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Using your words, following my instructions.”

“I want a kiss,” was all you could say and he chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss that had you sighing against him, melting even more into the sheets.

“Thank you,” he whispered against you, his forehead touching yours, “For wearing a blindfold, for allowing me to pleasure you.”

Upon his soft-spoken, honest words, all you could say was, “I can’t speak.”

For a moment, you wondered whether he would misunderstand your lack of response as a lack of reciprocity. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Paz helped you wrap your arms around his neck, his large hand pressing yours to his nape for a moment before letting you go. Without wasting a moment, you buried your head in his neck, scenting him for all you were worth. You wanted to tell how you felt like you were gloating, how happy you were right now right here.

And despite the lack of words, it seemed to work. His big hand slipped to your back, holding you to him as he leaned back, pulling both of you into a sitting position on the bed.

“Then I did a good job,” he joked. Playfully you slapped him on the chest or at least you planned to but his hand caught yours, gripping your wrist and pinning it to your back. None of it was painful, none of it strict. More … slow and deliberate and loving when his fingers brushed over your wrist gently. This was how he was, it occurred to you, that Paz Vizsla did not need to secure his dominance in any sudden way because he was secure in his dominance. It was never even a question for him whether he would be able to pleasure you. The realization made you even wetter and within moments, it had you forgetting the way he had made you come so undone you did not want to think about being touched again.

“You tasted even sweeter than I imagined,” he revealed with his lips brushing over your cheek.

The whispered compliment made you shift in his lap, causing his hard cock to rub against your folds. A flush went through your body and you tried to shift again, this time getting his shaft to burhs over your clit and you gasped.

“Already?” he teased you, “What a needy little slut I got for myself.”

His fingers returned and you opened your mouth willingly. Just like they did the day before, his fingers moved in and out of your mouth at a slow and deliberate pace, and just like you had done yesterday, you sucked them into your mouth with an eagerness that you were no longer ashamed to showcase for him.

“I promised you I would fuck from behind, didn’t I?” his voice was rough from arousal, his pointer finger pushing down on your tongue.

“Uh-huh”, you swirled your tongue around his fingers, hoping to convey just how much you wanted that.

“Can't wait to work my cock in you again,” he revealed, burying his face in your neck as his fingers slipped so deep in your mouth you gagged. You were clenching around nothing immediately, imagining what his cock would feel inside you. Whether it would feel different now that you knew what was coming.

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth only to put them on your pussy. As if you weren’t wet enough from your orgasm of the century. Carefully, he ran them over your clit and while you felt sensitive still, it was nothing compared to the waves of arousal that returned upon his touch. One thing you knew now: If Paz Vizsla called, your body would answer.

“Tell me if it is too much,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck as he detangled himself from you. With gentle sounds and strong hands, he directed you to lie on your front and you sunk into the wonderfully soft blankets with a sigh. Then, he straddled you from above, his cock resting heavily on the small of your back.

Even now, he felt massive. So massive that you imagined you could feel him reach the middle of your back, his precome pooling on your skin. But then you had your arms pinned over your head, one of his hands encompassing both of your wrists. And that was just the sexiest thing ever.

He made you feel small, helpless and hornier than ever and it just got better when he pushed inside you for the first time.

“Stars,” you breathed out, clenching your hands into fists. The stretch was just as big as yesterday and in the new position, it took more of an effort to breathe. But he was big inside you, his mushroom tip breaching your entrance.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained when he pulled out a little just to push back in. And then his thighs shifted, his knees pinning your leg together which made it an even tighter fit and you gasped, feeling him in your belly.

“Wish you could see it,” he commented, “Wish you could see just how good you take my fat cock. How good you are at opening up for me.”

At his words, you tried to lift your ass against him, to get him deeper but his free hand moved to your lower back, pushing you to the bed. “Nu-uh,” he scolded you, “I am the one in charge, little one.”

Oh fuck, why did that turn you on so much?

Your teeth sank into your lip and you whimpered. You would let this man do anything to you. Especially now that, with your back arched, he hit that spot inside you that made you see stars and he seemed to be determined to use it to his advantage.

Paz’s thrusts were slow but deep. Deliberate. His body caged you in, completely covering you as he worked you open on his cock like he had never done anything else in his life. You could feel his breath on your skin, could feel where he gripped your hands, where the muscles in his legs worked to keep him moving, where his belly brushed against your ass.

Paz Vizsla had taken you over completely.

“How do you feel?” he asked, “Happy now you finally have that greedy pussy filled?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to keep the whine down your throat. “F-feels o full, alpha,” you gasped, trying once again to rock against him, “Almost – oh.”

“Almost what?”

“Almost too full.”

He hummed and you noticed how his thrust seemed more urgent. His legs caged your thighs in and you hoped he would squeeze, hoped the movement would put pressure on your clit.

“And yet here you are weeping for me,“ he mused, “You love my too-big-for-you cock, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it.”

“Huh?” your hands clenched and you tried your best to listen to him, you really did. But maybe you were also just trying to pretend like you were not too cockdumb to realize what he was asking of you.

“Say you love my big cock,” he murmured, sounding way too controlled for your liking. His thrust and you cried out when it hit a spot inside you that made your whole body shiver in the best way.

“Say it or I won't let you come, sweet omega,” he teased you, his free hand gently running over your back, “Don’t you want to come again, sweetheart? Don’t you want to be filled with my come?”

His words cause something to spiral inside you and all you managed was to nod. You did not know where this need had come from to be so close to him. It felt like you had discovered a part of yourself that you had hidden from everyone – including you. But the thought of finally feeling his come inside you the same way it happened yesterday made your nipples tingle and your pussy weep. And from the way he growled, you knew he felt it.

“Love your cock,” you mumbled into the pillow, your cheek smushed against the soft fabric that smelled like him and that made you distractedly think of what it would be like to spend all your nights in his beds, building your nest and cuddling with him.

“What was that?” he asked, the thumb that kept your hands together brushing over the sensitive spots on your wrist, “Couldn’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love your cock!” you cried out, embarrassment in your voice, “L-love it, alpha, makes me feel so good.”

His groan was deep and guttural and you could feel him twitch inside you as his thrusts got even harder. Whimpering into the pillow, you relaxed into the sheet once you realised you could not do it anymore. You felt like you had lost control of your limbs and Paz, in your stead, had gained them.

“Good girl,” he praised you, his arm sneaking to your front and circling your clit as he buried himself as deep into you as he could. It took only the barest of touches for you to fall apart in his arms. And this one was even stronger than the one before. You felt completely weightless, bodyless, too, as your brain registered only pleasure. From your toes to your hairline, all you could feel was him. Him pulsing inside you, him filling you with his come and the thought made you clench around him.

“Stars,” he groaned above you, his weight settling on you. The effect this had on him made you smile, your fingers twitching as you tried to reach for him. Because clearly, having him inside you was not close enough.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice all mumbly and you tried to nod. His body resting on yours made you feel secure in a way you could not describe so you focussed on your breathing first, smiling when his hands intertwined with yours.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered

“What for?”

“For making me come,” you murmured, “And, uh, for coming inside me.”

Paz made a sound like a grunt and you could feel him twitch at your words. “You say that like it is a chore,” he replied, his lips running over the back of your neck and you shivered when he brushed over your scent gland, “When all I could think about all day was what you might taste like on my tongue. And how pretty you look on my cock.”

“You didn’t take me to the negotiations this morning,” you stated, unable to help the insecurity that scratched at your heart.

“No, I did not,” he answered and, after a slight pause, added, “And I won't take you to the ones tomorrow morning either.”

Hurt cracked at your heart and you shifted. But Paz misunderstood your restlessness and took it as a sign to get up. The warmth of his body left you and you both whimpered when he slipped out of you.

“This is the prettiest sight,” he commented, his large hands spreading your cheeks apart. You felt puffy and slick and the feeling of his come trickling out of you paired with his fingers digging into your soft flesh made you clench again.

The bed dipped and swayed as he moved and soon, you could feel the weight of his body next to yours and gingerly turned around. His arms found you instantly, pulling you into his chest and you sighed as you settled your cheek on his warm skin.

But no matter how comfortable he was, you could not shake your curiosity. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why won't you take me to the negotiations here?”

“What I said is true,” he whispered, “I want to keep you for myself until Mandalore. I want to get to know you, to make sure you …”

You frowned, “Make sure I what?”

“Make sure you are okay being seen with a Mandalorian like me.”

It took you a moment to realise what he was saying. And when you did, you were surprised that a confident warrior like him had worries such as these.

“Paz,” you started, your hand splaying over his chest and feeling his heartbeat, “Are – do you think that because you are from a different tribe I would not want to be seen with you?”

“I know what other Mandalorians think of us,” he grumbled, pulling you closer, “I know that my way of life may not seem … normal to you.”

“Paz,” you started, tracing your fingers in makeshift patterns over his skin, “It may not be my way of life but that does not mean I would ever be … be embarrassed or ashamed of being out there with you. I am you calmer and I am,” you took a deep breath, “I am proud to be your calmer, alpha. I would not want it any other way.”

For a long time, Paz did not say anything and you had the sudden fear that what you had said, what you had implied, was too much, that you had crossed some invisible boundary that kept you at a (professional? Diplomatic?) distance. But you could not help it. Could not help the warm feeling in your chest whenever he was near and the need to make him feel … good. And cherished. And wanted.

Stars, you wanted this man.

“Can I kiss you again?”

His big hand covered the side of your face and even though he could not see it, you closed your eyes and nodded. And then his mouth descended on yours. The kiss was soft and slow, his tongue brushing over your lower lip. You could feel his stubble against your chin and it did not take long before you cupped his cheek as well, feeling the growing beard under his thumb.

Before you could ask him how he kept his facial hair most of the time, a yawn forced its way out of your body. Paz moved his mouth away and you whimpered, trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Sleep, my love,” he whispered against your ear, “We will see each other tomorrow.”

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.7k

warnings : language ig?

content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan

taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)

She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.

“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.

“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”

She made a move to get out of bed.

“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”

George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.

George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.

They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.

“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.

“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.

“What girl?”

“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”

“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”

“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.

“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”

“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.

“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”

“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”

“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.

“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”

They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.

“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”

He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.

“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Lockwood really I’m fine.”

“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”

She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.

Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.

She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.

“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

She stared at him wondering what he meant.

“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”

“Oh, right.”

“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”

“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”

“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”

“I’m not a child!”

He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.

“You have to ask for help sometimes.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”

He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.

When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.

It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.

“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.

“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”

“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”

“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.

“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.

“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”

“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.

She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.

“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”

“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.

She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.

When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.

“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

She pushed the door open.

“What’s this all about?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”

“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”

He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”

His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”

“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”

“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”

“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.

“Well, I know I’m right!”

“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”

It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.

“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”

“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.

“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.

Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.

---

“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.

“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”

He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.

“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”

That got a laugh out of him.

They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.

“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”

“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.

“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”

It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.

They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.

Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.

“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”

“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”

“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.

“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”

“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Norrie? What are you doing here?”

“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, you could help us a lot!”

y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.

“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.

Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.

---

“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”

Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.

“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.

“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”

“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”

“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”

“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.

“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.

“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”

He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.

“What happened?”

It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.

“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

“We met Lucy today.”

She was met with a questioning stare.

“The girl from my dream.”

This triggered more frowning.

“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”

George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.

“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”

He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”

“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”

He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.

“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.

“What do you think y/n?”

“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”

“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?

“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”

George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.

A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.

“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”

He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.

The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:

“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons

TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock

One fundraiser organized each year

Strong link to M&S rapier supplier

Funds from Fittes?

No financial records or official information available”

She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.

Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.

They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.

A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.

They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.

“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.

They looked up at him expectantly.

“We go after the financial records.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.

“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”

“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.

They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.

“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”

“But what about the records?”

“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.

---

“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”

Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.

After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.

“Lockwood stop.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”

“Just shut up Lockwood!”

George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.

“They had just started to get along!”

y/n ignored his comments.

“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”

Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.

“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.

She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m… sorry…”

“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”

Her heart sank.

“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”

“What was I doing?”

“Faking compassion to get what you want.”

“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”

“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I can actually.”

There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.

“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”

He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.

“Just don’t be mean to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He turned to enter the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.  

“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”

She smiled.

“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”

He smiled back.

“Tea?”

[izartn]

On Blue Lock, Episode Nagi movie:

It was like one of those outsider pov fics from a secondary character pov but official. Given that's one of my fave genres of fic amd I knew that about the movie coming in I enjoyed the perspective it offered, and also the melodrama of NagiReo xD

Also why was the ost so much better than in the anime itself? Did I blitz too quickly through the episodes? It made the kinda recap this was, entertaining as it got, much better. Why XD I hope that ost is in season 2.

Liked how NagiReo were the last ones to cross that door and that Ego had to bait Ngi into it. Would have messed up his 300 teens plan for Blue Lock is these two refused lol though I think he was absolutely prepared for that. Funny how Nagi is the one who gets the Blue Lock mentality despite being the reluctant of the pair.

I loled at how little the other guys in V mattered though, and at the replay of the match against Z, Nagi getting more and more fixated in Isagi and football for himself, to Reo alarm and happiness respectively.

I am not the only one who thinks Nagi is/was depressed due to a lack of challenge and isolation in his life, right? That whole, leave me I don't want to even try, just want to stay in my comfort zone idling the days away....

Going to other matters....

Also. Why did that Isagi and Bachira separation at Stage 2 look 100% more gay than it was in the anime? I swear it was the typical Shonen friendship on the season. Ah I know. Because Nagi, BL character that he is, was there remembering himself and Reo in rosy flashbacks. Hilarious taking what happened just before between them. But then Nagi is confident on their friendship in a way that Reo just isn't.

The contrast between their mental states re:change are so fucking funny in a sad way too. Reo is so insecure, compared to Nagi, I guess it comes from his family reputation and money being all he was before he meet Nagi and so he's insecure about his own merits but really. He's coping about as well as my bestie in HS did to her situationship with another girl collapsing when she was 14, that's the level of gay ass failing were talking about. That Nagi just didn't voice aloud the emotional reassuring parts to Reo during the breakup was so teenage boy of him, he just thinks he's being clear enough and then, everybody else can see Reo is just. Not manging it well. Love that they just fucking went pass Nagi being brutal to Reo on the 3vs3, like. Yes this is Nagi PoV the movie no you don't get to see what the fuck was he thinking. I personally imagine he was trying to like, do a reverse psychology on Reo, but it didn't work(?) (except it kinda did) bc Nagi has a 0 in interpersonal communication. Who knows though. Maybe the manga?

Anyways I'm really happy about that post-credits and additional time! So season 2 is gonna start from the jump after the 50 days timeskip, huh? Not surprised at all by who I saw there as the starting 11 for the U-20 match, of course our protags and company are there.

That after all the movie they end up bringing it back to NagiReo kinda having maked up, and Reo having friends/rivals telling him to quit the sad face, they're gonna be the best is soooo funny. Yes Reo you have friends, you're there on the 25 of 300 even if you're on the sidelines right now, relax XD Happy for him he seems to get friends other than Nagi, he needs more than a (boy)cough(bestie) friend.

And that was it!!! Thanks to @ashen-sky for telling me to wait for the post credits! Very appreciated given almost my whole sala walked out.

[smolgloves]

Not So Useless: Part 2

Chapter 1 Chaper 2 chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 chapter 8

Summary: After falling to the pit, Freya and Astarion must figure out a way... before time runs out

TW: Mentions of death and near death experiences. Not much going on in this chapter 🤷‍♀️ But it is a palate cleanser if you read sm0lprism's chapter 9 update lol (jk love ya, girlie 😘 ✌️)

Still alive, despite everything. Freya was no worshiper but after surviving a cave in, she just might want to meet the god who has decided to keep her safe and give them a proper thanks. She sat up and rubbed her eyes from the dust that now caked her face, taking note of this foreign surface that twitched underneath her. Freya let out a gasp when she looked down to find herself sitting on Astarion's hand! Everything happened so fast, she never had time to process when exactly he reached up to shield her from the fallen debris.

Freya slipped off his palm and Astarion let out a groan. Red eyes fluttered open before quickly sitting up to look over Tav; they limply laid across his lap. He glanced back over to the borrower. “Are you alright?”

“Forget about me, we need to help Tav!” She exclaimed, eyes falling on the sickly halfling. Despite still breathing, Tav looked even worse than before. Sweat drenched their brow as they shivered in the elf’s arms. No more time was wasted as Astarion quickly rummaged around his bag to tend to their wounds.

“That blasted hag!” He snarled, wrapping bandages around Tav’s side. “I'd rip her damn throat out if she weren't already dead!”

Freya kept her gaze glued to the vampire, the way his crimson eyes fixated on Tav's face, as if he was riddled with concern. No… it wasn't as if he was concerned for Tav's wellbeing! When she was a little girl, her aunt used to tell her scary stories about how vampires are horrid monsters that only care for blood, no matter how sweet their words were, their motives were always the same. But in this moment, Freya could not see a creature of the night, only a man concerned for his companion.

A putrid stench waffed the air, causing them to cough. The realization finally hit Freya, this plague was derived from the Deathsbreath spores, enhanced by vile hag magic to become more deadly than it originally was and now it was filling up this pit to claim three more victims before it faded away.

“What in the bloody hells is going on?” Astarion choked out.

“Deathsbreath, deadly enough as is, but worse… now that the hag messed with it.” Freya exclaimed, her eyes frantically searched for an exit. “We have to get out of here!”

“By the gods.” Any hint of color was completely washed away from the elf's already pale face. He quickly jumped to his feet, keeping Tav cradled in his arms as he searched for an exit. But any tunnel that came off as a route to the surface was effectively sealed off by debris. There were cracks and crevices that Freya could slip through but who knows where they would lead to? Even if a crevice led to the surface, Tav and Astarion wouldn't be able to survive long enough for her to find the group and dig them out.

There was a dry chuckle coming from Astarion as he sunk to the ground. “I'm granted freedom for the first time in two hundred years, and I'm destined to die beneath the earth. It's almost poetic really.”

“You're not dying.” Freya crossed her arm.

“You're not dying if you escape through these little crevices.”

“Do you just expect me to leave you two?”

“Why wouldn't you? You have what you needed from this experience and you have the ability to slip away alive.” He spoke in a flair, but underneath that was resentment in his voice, he must have realized how obvious his tone was because he gave a thin smile. “At least that is what I would do, darling.”

“Lucky for you, I'm nothing like you.” The borrower shot back, causing Astarion to roll his eyes. There had to be a way to get them out of here or at least shield them from the noxious gas long enough for her to get help. Her eyes darted towards Tav, whose skin was drained of color. Freya had seen other people look similar when they caught the plague, without a cure, they always succumbed to their fates, and Freya's heart sank realizing Tav was close to following the others.

The others didn't have a cure… but Freya did.

She practically ripped her bag open to take out the Aixosfeaf. Three leaves could certainly be enough to help her colony, now it was just enough to prolong their lives for Freya to get help. Freya hoisted the leaves above her head. “Here take this. It will help you.”

“But don't you need that to-!”

“Shut up and take the the bloody Aixosfeaf!” Freya snapped to silence him from making her second guess what she was about to do. “It works better when brewed into a potion but keep it under your tongue and the effects should still work.”

Astarion seemed to hesitate, staring at Freya as if he was expecting her to change her mind but his slender hand plucked the leaves from her and did as instructed, tucking the leaf under his tongue before doing the same for Tav. As Freya did the same, reality threatened to settle. The whole reason she ventured to this cave was for her colony, but now her ticket in was currently dissolving in the mouths of larger beings. Perhaps the hag was right, there was no guarantee her colony would accept her back even with the leaves, it was a desperate attempt to be seen as a hero to her people, but now she would never know.

Pushing aside her feelings, Freya examined the tiny escape routes at her disposal, while there was no clear indicator which ones could lead to the surface, a draft blowing from one crevice was promising. She peered down her jagged pathway, then glanced back towards Astarion and Tav. “Stay put while I find the others.”

He gave a mocking chuckle. “Hilarious, now scurry off like the mouse you are, be useful for once.”

No need to tell her twice, Freya slipped into the crevice and crawled her way forward. Rocks scraped her hands and knees, leaving small drops of blood to trail behind. She wondered if Astarion could smell her blood the further she traveled. The tunnel seemed dark and endless, she almosted feared she picked the wrong route until a ray of light illuminated the dark path. Freya couldn't scramble out of the tunnel fast enough.

The sunlight blinded her to the surroundings, but she could feel loose dirt beneath her fingers. A deep inhale had her nearly choke on the fresh air. Freedom at last, but there was no time to rest, Freya had to find someone to help!

“Aye, what's this?” A rough voice spoke, before stomping over to the borrower, Freya quickly blinked away her blindness to stare up at the unfamiliar voice.

A goblin towered over her, giving her a rotting smile that sent a chill down her spine. Freya pulled out her peashooter realizing she would have to fight. However, a ball of flame was flung into the goblin before he could make a move and he collapsed to the ground.

“I got the last of them, now we have to hurry and find-!” Gale's shouts fell silent as he glanced back over to the dead goblin and locked eyes with Freya. “By the gods, Freya!”

In an instant, the borrower was surrounded by Gale, Wyll, and Karlach, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes.

“What happened down there, little soldier?!” Karlach asked. “Where’s Tav and Astarion?”

“Alive… but trapped.” Freya wheezed out. “There's gas… they don't have forever… we need to hurry!” Her knees buckled and she let out a series of violent coughs. Hells, the Aixosfeaf was beginning to wear off and poison was catching up to her, which means Astarion and Tav might not have much longer, Freya had to pull herself together if she was going to help dig them out!

“Easy now,” Gale halted her from getting up. “You need rest, we can handle the rest.”

Before Freya could even protest, Wyll quickly scooped her up, his fingers protectively curled around her small frame. “I'll take her back to camp.”

Gale nodded. “Karlach, let's hurry.”

Freya only got a glimpse of Gale summoning spells at the fragile pile of stone while Karlach smashed at the wall, Wyll rushed his way back to camp, keeping Freya safely cupped in his hands. “Don't worry friend, we'll save them.”

Freya could only hope Wyll was telling the truth.

[vulpesevanidum]

Not sure if I miss something about the internet of the past or something about myself that enabled...whatever was happening then. Socializing felt easier to approach, somehow.

The big difference on Tumblr probably came with the mass exodus of the user base following content moderation changes in 2018. I think the average user may have treated the site more like traditional social media before then? This worked in the sense that meeting a few criteria practically guaranteed a couple new direct interactions from time to time: 1) follow each other's blogs, 2) at least superficially share some interests, and 3) display selfies and possibly other personal info. Of course, for what could loosely be described as a very broad circle of vaguely nerdy gay men, these interactions were, unfortunately, rather...particular. A prominent feature of the quasi-culture was this idea of eventually crossing great distances and "meeting up with your mutuals" where the ultimate outcome would surely be finding your One True Love in some unexpected place and having your life change forever. This was cute as a fantasy but not so much as something people were targeting with every new person of interest. Much less cute overall when directed at someone who is practical to a fault and probably some flavor of asexual (not to mention inexperienced with flirting or anything beyond it). Needless to say, those interactions faded on their own from the lack of reciprocity (or in one of the more substantial cases after I was no longer succeeding in academia and abandoned a doctoral program lol). Nowadays it feels like it should work more like my early forum-oriented days where I express excessive enthusiasm about very specific things (but not too specific so that less people are aware of them) and work up to general amicability from hours of over-elaboration about those very specific things with a few people. That's probably how it works in general! Unfortunately, I don't really "fixate" on anything anymore (if I ever really did?) to be able to manage that.

I guess my biggest failure with this is in (not) sufficiently differentiating myself? Pivoting to fully pseudonymous furry-forward content aggregation was certainly antithetical to that in many ways. I've become more...vague...about representing myself (which reflects how I personally relate to myself), I don't create anything, and I'm not going to put my face out there again (I'm highly allergic to cameras) either. I'm not really sure what do about that.

(age is probably a factor here too but sssshhhh)

[thank-god-and-you]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @4getfulimaginator2022. Thank you! <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

I'll use my FFN stats since I'm not transferring everything from there over to AO3. Fic count on FFN is 204, though that's not including the ones I archive privately, so technically the number of fics I've posted is 253.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Again, going on FFN word count since that's where everything is. That stands at over two million: 2,197,752.

HOWEVER, I also have a further 817,563 words of fics privately archived, so in actuality I've hit the three million mark: 3,015,315! I knew I must be climbing up there, but I had no idea that I'd surpassed it, so that made me happy!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, it's Downton Abbey (Anna/Bates), EastEnders (Suki/Eve), Game of Thrones (Daenerys/Jorah), Gentleman Jack (Anne/Ann), and The Incredibles (Bob/Helen).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sed Me Domum et Aedificabo a Throno [Game of Thrones, Daenerys/Jorah]

Tokens of Deep Affection [Wreck-It Ralph, Felix/Calhoun]

Vivat Crescat Floreat  [Game of Thrones, Daenerys/Jorah]

Magic in Mundanity [The Incredibles, Bob/Helen]

Veritas, Unitas, Caritas [Game of Thrones, Daenerys/Jorah]

And favourites on FFN, since I still use that site:

1. Seeing is Believing [Pokémon, Jessie/James]

2. Swinub May Fly [Pokémon, Jessie/James]

3. The Shadow Proves the Sunshine [Downton Abbey, Anna/Bates]

4. A Comedy of Errors [Pokémon, Jessie/James]

6. A Meeting of Fates [Downton Abbey, Anna/Bates]

5. Do you respond to comments?

On FFN, yes, since it's done via PM. On AO3, no. I really appreciate all comments, but I despise that it counts my response, and I won't inflate my comment count. But of course I read each one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

One of my suuuuuper old Pokémon fics, Twisted. It's sooooo bad. Young teen Dan was dark and depressed. If I didn't think it was important to leave everything up to show progression, I'd delete it and pretend it never existed.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Nearly all of my fics have happy endings because I mostly write fluffy oneshots, so pretty much take your pick.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did once have a comment on a Dany/Jorah fic which had nothing to do with the fic and just hated on the ship, which I rolled my eyes hard at. What is the point in seeking out something you don't like? Weirdo behaviour. And, you know, it was from a Dany/Jon stan, so...people in glass houses and all that.

9. Do you write smut?

I do. Not as often as I used to, but when the mood strikes. Most of my smut scenes/fics are archived privately, though.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I did extensive planning for one once, but the crossover universe was mostly just there as background. Whether I ever get around to actually writing it remains to be seen, but I wouldn't write another because I have no real interest.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked wayyyyy back in 2012 if they could translate one of my fics, but I don't know if that ever happened. And I deleted it to archive privately, so probably not, LOL.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not! I'm not sure if I'd be any good at it, I'd feel the pressure!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Well, it's been over twelve years since I wrote my first Anna/Bates fic, and I still write a little bit for them most days (just a slow and steady process). I still love all of my old ships, but Anna/Bates has had the longevity to endure almost nine years after the end of the show (I don't count the movies because they're whatever), and they're still so, so special to me. <3

(Although I do spend most of my time these days completely fixated on Suki/Eve because MY GOD, that ship has completely altered my brain chemistry.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It's not a 'doubt I ever will' thing just yet, because I am still very much writing Anna/Bates fic, but I have one in particular that I haven't touched in six years where the final line of the penultimate chapter has lived rent-free in my head for all that time...I've just never committed it to paper yet, and I'm still a couple of chapters away from it.

But I finally finished the bonus chapter of Made of Starlight [Downton Abbey, Anna/Bates] seven years after posting the final chapter on FFN, so there's every chance I'll pick it back up in the near future.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't think I'm particularly good at anything, but if I had to pick something...Dialogue, maybe? I always have lots of fun with characters interacting with each other, anyway, regardless of whether it's good or not.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I feel like it's often clunky and not evocative enough.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I used to write it in italicised English. Nowadays, if a character is speaking to another in a language they both understand, I'll still do this, but if it's from the POV of a character who doesn't understand it, I'll write it in the other language but try to do the HTML on AO3 where hovering over it on desktop will give the English translation. For example, this was pivotal for the fourth chapter of Vivat Crescat Floreat, since the whole point of the chapter was supposed to be Tyrion's frustration at not knowing what the hell Daenerys and Jorah were talking about. It would not have worked if the audience could read the Common Tongue right off the bat, but the hovering at least gives the audience the context that Tyrion does not have.

I don't bother on FFN since hardly anyone uses that site anymore, haha.

Of course, the only language that I do know is English, so I have to rely on translate for other languages...which, let's face it, can be horrendously inaccurate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pokémon. I don't keep up with the anime much these days, but I'm always there for a new game, haha.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I don't really do favourites because I'm mostly just meh about what I've written, but I'll always have a soft spot for A Meeting of Fates, purely because it was the first multi-chaptered fic that I ever finished.

Lost in Balms [Downton Abbey, Anna/Bates, privately archived] is one I had a lot of fun with. I started it in April 2017 and completed it July 2023, but during all that time I had such a clear image of how I wanted the climax to go down. I actually wrote the fic in an entirely linear fashion, so thinking of that one scene kept me going for five years until I actually reached it, and it was one of the most satisfying things to write because of how long it had taken for me to get there.

And not a fic mention per se, but the fourth 'chapter' of And Beauty There Echoes the Speck of Our Souls [EastEnders, Suki/Eve] gave me all the feels to think about and write. I wrote it at a time where I was struggling with Suki and Eve's breakup in canon, and it brought me great comfort to focus on. And another Suki/Eve fic that I'm working on right now is giving me the same warm fuzzies because it's something I desperately want at some point in the future. <3

[mrswagtastic]

HEYYY HAPPY LATE CRAIGMAS AND HAPPY NEW YURI!! 2 PEOPLE ASKED FOR THE TUCKER LORE IN MY HEAD SO HERE IT IS (sorry my brain wasn't letting me post 😖) UNDER THE CUT SO NO ONE GETS FLASHBANGED!! ALSO MAY BE MESSY AND BADLY WRITTEN/ORDERED SORRY

So Thomas Tucker was pretty easily provoked as a kid and so got into a LOT of fights, and grew up quite lonely but ATLEAST he had good parents yay :33. When he grew up he struggled to find a partner, but had a desire for a kid so one day decides to adopt. This is when MY BOY MY SON CRAIG comes into the picture. Cue single father montage of comedic mishaps but he ultimately tries his best. He does a lot of research, goes to single parent groups, and just really wants the best for his boy. A little bit later he meets Laura and aww they're in loooove and it takes a while and she has to be the one to actually SAY ANYTHING because uh he's a DUMBASS ... Also during this baby Craig has to warm up to her and sheee makes him his hat :33 it's a bit big on him but he grows into it it's okay. Also Craig tends to wander off a lot like he refuses to go SOEMWHERE and Laura's like "it's okay just ignore him he'll follow" and they do but then they turn around and Craig's gone and he walked all the way back home insisting they go inside what a guy... (NOT based off of younger me trust). Then after a bit Tricia is BORN and at first Craig is a bit confused and doesn't like her because she's a baby and babies are LOUD and ANNOYING so he just hides whenever she's around lmao but they eventually SOEKWJAT tolerate one another so that's nice. Oh yeah jobs uh Thomas works as an engineer and Laura works at the bank I feel cause why not. Craig actually bonds with his dad ALOT by building stuff together Thomas teaches him it all it's very silly father son stuff :3 and Laura makes stuff like Craig's space costume and his feldspar outfit and I like to imagine maybe she was sick or busy at the superhero game that's why its so plain. Him and Tricia insult each other a lot but they're actually pretty chill together like if SOEKTHING serious happened they'd care and help. Also uhh stripe lore I feel on Red Racer theres a guinea pig puppet (I feel red racers one of those old shitty live action kids shows with eh slightly uncanny looking puppets and occasional animated segments does this make sense) and that's one of Craig's favourite characters, so he started fixating on guinea pigs and researching them like a LOT and eventually started getting stripes :3 (also I feel he got into red racer just cuz when he was little he was having a meltdown or crying or something and it was late at night and Thomas just turned the TV on in hopes of whatever is on will calm him and red racer just happened to be on, and it calmed him so they'd play it more and that's how Craig got super interested in it I think).uhh some more random Craig bits:

- he's fine with the doctors but is TERRIFIED of dentists that's why his teeth suck lol

- he's been friends with Clyde pretty much forever since his parents went to the same groups Thomas did, and he and Richard especially became good friends, so Craig and Clyde would play together a lot resulting in their friendship.

- they then befriended Tolkien SOEKTIMES in kindergarten after he shared some stuff with them and they all played together. Kids make friends very easy huh

- Jimmy joined the gang when he moved to south park on the 4th grade, but that doesn't make them any less close with him

- Craig's obviously gay but I also imagine him to be demiaroace, maybe even fully on ace idk (chat am I projecting too much)

- when Craig has a meltdown, he at first will angrily explode, then run off and completely shut down, having it more internally.

- he likes how his hat feels, but also doesn't want to ruin it so will gently bag the flaps back and forth with his hand

- he eats really plain foods I feel due to sensitive taste buds he's really picky

- he buys the exact same jacket every time he needs a new one and his wardrobe consists of the same pants, plain shirts, and the occasional graphic tee but ONLY red racer or space themed. Also he needs the tags cut off.

- he's really weirdly good at clickers/FPS shooters

Uhh there's more.probably but this might be enough hope you enjoyed the INSNAE.craig lore rambles sorry it's messy I'm on a VERY long bus ride..

[gachagon]

hello! i was about to sleep + doing my nightly 'read a fanfic to bed' routine until i saw that your requests are open (and i haven't requested in a long time too 😭) and i got curious!

may i request a drabble for nagi wherein reader eventually realizes that he doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body – and she feels like their dates so far (arcades *a nagi staple*, coming over to his house anytime bc his parents arent around to watch movies) are very low-effort in itself and she feels bad for wanting more than this because nagi has been a very nice boyfriend but he just doesn't go out of his way and she doesn't know how to express this to him without sounding shallow or asking too much from a literal high school student – she ends up overthinking that maybe she's too intense for someone like him but nagi eventually realizes this and feels bad himself but he's also at lost at what to do and communicating makes him uncomfortable so he tells everything he knows to reo to be greeted with a taken aback reo who goes 'not even a single gift? even a little trinket? what do you two even talk about? WAIT YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP? how did that happen? is it pity dating? you like her? WHAT' kind of thing and nagi realizes that relationships are a two-way street and that cuddle dates just don't cut it anymore

Hiiii I really liked this idea and thought it was pretty cute. I don't really get to write a lot about Nagi most of the time, even though he is one of my favorites! I cut this a bit shorter and was going back and forth with how I wanted the conversations to go, but in the end I think I nailed it and made it really cute! There were moments I thought "Geez I'm making Nagi too much of a bad boyfriend" lol so I also just kept going back and forth with the tone.

Here is the short drabble anon!

Words: 1.3k

Pairing: Nagi/Fem!Reader

You and Nagi have been going out for a few months, however you notice he's not the best when it comes to planning dates. In fact, it's starting to get to your head and you wonder if he likes playing games more than he likes being with you! You decide to talk to him, about it

You and Nagi Seishiro have dated for a few months now, and at first you were so ecstatic to finally have gotten a chance with your crush that you had purposefully overlooked a lot of his flaws. Sure Nagi was a bit lazy when it came to school, and he was kind of slow to talk to (you normally did most of the conversating when you were together), but he listened to you anyways and always made sure to help you with your studies after school. Nagi had his own hobbies, but unlike most people he was just incredibly serious about it. You could understand that, seeing as you were also quite passionate about your own club meetings, and Nagi even supported your club by going to the meetings with you, or waiting after school to walk home with you. 

These were all things that you had decided weren’t worth the trouble of looking deeply into, everyone has their issues. Your friends complained to you that they didn’t think Nagi was that attentive, but it didn’t matter to you what they said. You enjoyed all the walks, and the one sided talks, and on the rare occasion that Nagi was really focused on something he’d even ramble to you about the latest game he’d been fixated on. 

You were determined to make it work, so you decided you’d take things a step further and started to  invite Nagi out on dates. Though, all the places he suggested you go to were not…the most romantic choices you’d have picked out. 

“Do you want to come over and play Dragon Quest? My parents won’t be home for a few hours…” Nagi would ask. 

“We could go to the arcade…they’re having a competition with one of the fighting games.” 

“They’re selling copies of a new game at this cafe, let’s go and get 2 and play it.” 

No matter what, it always went back to games. There were some days you almost thought Nagi was more enamored with games than he was with you. It got to a point where you spoke with your friends about it, and of course they agreed but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that. “Maybe I should just talk to him about it…I mean he is a bit spacey.” You say to them. “Sometimes it’s like he’s in a world of his own, you know!” And yet this too was something you also had in common with Nagi that you couldn’t fault him for. The more you talked about his flaws, the more you realized you held the same ones. 

So you decide to do it, to talk to Nagi and to ignore your friends who desperately want you to break up with him over this. Frankly, you think they’re kind of bad at advice anyways, seeing as you're the only one who has a partner now. You talk with him after your club meeting, and broach the subject as nicely as possible. 

“Hey Nagi…I was wondering if maybe we could, oh I don’t know…do other things besides going to the arcade for dates?” You said, and Nagi looks at you confused. 

“But I thought you liked going to the arcade.” He said.

“I do! It’s just, well I don’t know how to put it…” You look away for a moment as Nagi searches your face for an answer. “It’s just-the arcade, gaming cafes, all those places aren’t really…date places. They’re places you bring your friends.”

“But you are my friend.” Nagi said simply. 

“Ugh, I know that! But I’m also your girlfriend! You should take a girl to places that are romantic, you know.” You crossed your arms. “Especially if you’re dating her.” 

Nagi’s head tilted to the side, it looked adorable but you decided to ignore it. “Really? I thought…those places were romantic?” Nagi shrugged casually. “We were having fun together, so I thought that was all that mattered.” 

Oh my gosh he hasn’t got a clue…You think hopelessly to yourself with a sigh. “Oh, just forget it, Nagi.” Maybe my friends were right…Maybe he should date someone who’s not so clingy…You sulk off alone without Nagi to your house, not even sparing a glance back. However, unknown to you, Nagi is not finished with the problem. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“I think my girlfriend’s mad at me.” Nagi laid on Reo’s very expensive couch in his room while he spoke. Reo was his only real friend, so when (Y/N) walked off by herself, Nagi knew he had messed up. Though he was incredibly confused on how. 

“Wait, what? You got a girlfriend??” Reo asked from his bed. He leapt out of it, and immediately began to bombard Nagi with questions as he shook him by his shoulders. “When did that happen?” 

Nagi shrugged, “I don’t know. I think maybe…a few months ago?” He said. “But that’s not the issue. I think she’s gonna break up with me, dude.” 

Reo sighs, and rubs his forehead. “I can’t believe this. You get a girl to go out with you, and the moment I even hear about it, you’ve already messed it up.” He said. “Well what did you do?” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t really…know?” He had thought he was doing everything “right”. He liked walking her home, and staying with her for her club. Sometimes she would talk for hours about everything she did that day or even that week, and Nagi liked listening to all of it. He wasn’t much of a talker, even Reo couldn’t get a lot of words out of him most days, but he loved listening. And he had a lot of fun with her on all their dates. “I thought she was having fun on all the dates we went on…it looked like she did, anyways? She was smiling and laughing, and we play games together all the time. But today she said none of that was ‘romantic’ enough. I just don’t get it.” 

Reo shook his head, “You can’t just bring a girl to an arcade and internet cafes all the time, Nagi. Have you ever brought her to, I don’t know, a fancy restaurant? A scenic view? The movies?” Reo listed all these places off, and Nagi answered no with each one. 

“Well…what makes something romantic?” Nagi asked. Is “have fun” not part of romance? What else was he supposed to do alongside all the other things?

“Atmosphere! And intent, it has to be places that really intrigue her or that speak to her interests. A place where you two can talk a lot, as well.” Reo explained, and Nagi cringed inwardly. 

“Talking…I see…” He was terrible at that. He never knew what to really say to people, oftentimes his mind would run blank unless it involved games. Listening was just so easy, and he could fill in his half of the conversation with questions about the other person’s talk. Though, now that he thinks about it, that’s not really a conversation. It’s more of an interview…or worse…an interrogation. 

“Tell you what, the next time you see her, you have to get her a present to make up for it. And! You have to take her out on a date, a real one that’s super romantic!” Reo exclaims, and Nagi agrees. 

“Okay. I know all about her…I have the perfect gift in mind.” Nagi had always thought gifts were meant to be given during special occasions, but now he realized that he should’ve been treating these past few months with (Y/N) like a celebration. “She’s in this club, and she’s really into (insert reader's passion/hobby). So I think I’ll get her something as a surprise.” And this time…it won’t be a game. 

Nagi rushes out of Reo’s room to hurry and prepare the present and even to plan out where he would take (Y/N). As he rushed out the door, Reo called after him. “And make sure the place you pick for your date is actually a place girls like! Otherwise, she really will dump you, dude!” He yelled. 

“I will!” Nagi called back as he slammed the door behind him. He was prepared to fix things tomorrow for certain, he would get the perfect gift and plan the perfect date. Nagi was ready to set this right, even if it meant never going on another “arcade date” ever again. 

[sapherin]

Today marks the two year anniversary of me endlessly stanning Eusine and Morty by complete accident of me googling “Ecruteak City”. Thank you sacredshipping for being the best thing to happen to my artistic career.

⭐️🤍💛🧡❤️ 🩷 🎈💚💙💜🤎🖤⭐️

You clicked on this and now you will be subjected to my backstory and feelings with this ship. (If you asked why I like this ship elsewhere there’s barely anything new here sorry lol)

When this couple had its heyday on Bulbagarden forums ~12 years ago I absolutely did not care for them. I didn't get the appeal whatsoever, I thought they were both own'd losers who were just friends and nothing more. I did think they had some cool fanart but that was it. Silver in any iteration was my favorite Johto character at the time and I was all into Silver/Lyra or Ethan or PreciousMetalshipping, the last ship being my goto ship to make my whole personality at the time. Nothing about them really "clicked" to me until I started watching HGSS longplays for PleinAirpril references back in 2021. Somehow just the mere image of seeing them together in the Burned Tower and thinking about Eusine and Morty for more than 5 seconds was enough to make go "oh shit they're gay." And lo and behold I'm stuck here 2 years later stanning this damn ship. I mean that last sentence in the most cheeky way possible since it's obvious at this point that MinaMatsu/Sacredshipping makes me so happy and I want to draw them forever. I got to do so many fun new things with my art and meet so many kind people because of my crazy dedication to them...I owe a lot to them.

I guess what really makes MinaMatsu work for me is the fact they're essentially the same character. They both start out confident in achieving their goals, get their egos put in check by the player (Eusine just refuses to lose right away) and ultimately fail to obtain their goal. Obviously what makes them fun is their opposing personalities. Morty takes a more passive, introverted approach to meeting Ho-oh with his secret training believing he can become the person that is worthy of it. One day he'll become the strongest and coolest Ghost-type trainer to have ever live and Ho-oh will go "wow he's so cool" and swoop down from the heavens before him. Meanwhile Eusine decides he's already worthy of Suicune, will show the entirety of Johto and Kanto his fixation of it, and will chase it down and give it no choice but to chose him. No one else had his undying dedication to track down Suicune, did they? No need to train like Morty does, Eusine got all of the worthiness in the world. They have clashing personalities and yet they're still good friends which is so sweet. It's just so heartwarming to see men with similar goals and different perspectives on how to obtain that goal just get along and enjoy each other's company. Perfect harmonious duality. I'm not going to go too much into how I see others interpret them but when I see people headcanon them as rivals or them secretly not liking each other (groan) because of how they behave I'm just like...why. If you want a rival-to-lovers m/m relationship in pokemon, Reguri and Raihan x Leon is Right There. That's a whole new ship. Morty never says anything demeaning about Eusine’s endeavors or Eusine himself in his in-game calls to the player. (No, Morty saying he doesn't care for Suicune that much unlike Eusine doesn't count.) Morty literally leaves his place of work to be with Eusine in the Burned Tower. Clair has definitely yelled at him for that. That's not "he secretly hates Eusine" behavior y'all but I actually played the games so idk.

Ok ok back on topic now that I pissed off somebody out there. I just love how they're both mystical freaks. Morty having this supernatural connection to Ghost-type Pokemon and his strange abilities to foresee possible futures and communicating to ghosts just makes him an easy character for me to fall in love with. Weirdo probably hangs out more without dead people than living ones. Eusine being...Like That and his bottomless desire to research every aspect of Ecruteak City's past and be Suicune's friend is also fun to watch. Suicune please say Eusine is cool its what Granddaddy Eusine would want. Masters EX does confirm that Morty once lived in a sheltered world and didn't have many friends - must be hard when you're the freak of the week - so it's possible that Eusine is the person he's closest to. And why wouldn't he be? They both otherworldly guys that chased a lifelong dream and failed, but at the end of it all they still have each other. It's a nice touch that the HGSS credits have them walking together chasing (presumably) another Suicune...they'll probably never give up on anything as long as they have each other. Their dreams will never turn into nightmares when they're together.

Like a perfect couple they complete each other...if they melted and fused together they'll be the gayest most powerful mystical freak that both Ho-oh and Suicune would have to recognize as worthy. I don't know where that thought came from but I'm keeping it. They're puzzle pieces I guess is what I'm getting at. I could go into how cute they are in Pokespe, the gay anime episode, and how Masters EX basically confirmed Morty idolized Eusine more than anybody (I think I rather wait until Eusine get implemented before I dive into that), and how Fall Morty is the both the worst and best possible thing to ever happen to me since his design alone immortalized my MinaMatsu mania but I'm keeping this babble as short as possible and ending it here.

I just want a give a big thank you those who drew this ship for me whether it be gift art, art trades or commissions...I want to make a silly little booklet or some type of showcase page with all the art you lot have given me. I haven't set my mind on anything just yet. I cherish everything here so much.

Counterclockwise from Top Left to Bottom Right - @/nitunio, @/ghoasttoasties, @/lalalettie on Twitter, @/plushiesnextdoor on IG, and @/northernmei on IG Uhhhh I should leave you with a little something for reading all of that junk…here’s a little preview of what I got in the works 

Ok that’s it bye I should log out

[vulpixtual]

fun facts about high school me

i was very obsessed with edie sedgwick. i didn't fuck with andy warhol but i loved her and dressed like her once for a costume party.

i also dressed as a jackson pollock painting for halloween

other fixations i had: sylvia plath, kurt vonnegut, beat happening, jack kerouac and that era of literature, the velvet underground and everything about that scene minus andy warhol, the perks of being a wallflower (lol)

my life goal was to either be like ernest hemingway (write, travel a lot) or carrie bradshaw (write, live in a big city)

i had a pop punk / hardcore phase, but tumblr ruined that for me (thank god)

i didn't go to prom because i was too anti establishment to do something like that and also prom is expensive!!

i did tech for my school's theatre department and i hated it so much lmao

i was the editor in chief for my school's newspaper. that was much better than theatre imo

(not so fun fact) some guy two years older than me became very obsessed with me and then hated me 1. bc i did not like him back 2. he treated me like a manic pixie dream girl and then got upset when i was a normal teenage girl and 3. he thought i knew he plagiarized a story he wrote from an anime (i did not know for the record) so he tried to ruin my life for years. the only reason it stopped was because i got too old for him to care about.

i didn't date for most of high school bc i just didn't like most of the people i knew then. i did have what we would now call orbiters online, mostly on my old tumblr account.

i did okay at school. i was bad at math and science, but good at everything else.

i had kind of basic taste in tv shows. i loved how i met your mother and glee (one of the first fandoms i used tumblr for lol)

i avidly used last.fm which played a big role in me getting my first boyfriend

i wanted to be a redhead so bad and dyed my hair red for most of my high school years

i used to meet people off tumblr all the time and it was not a big deal because it was just other teenagers

a lot of my friends were very into this local band who went through a few different phases and they're now a famousish band. i don't like their music tbh but they were always nice guys. they performed at my friend's 16th birthday party and i once found photos from that party floating around on tumblr and it was surreal.

i smoked weed for the first time when i was a junior in high school

i got in a very big fight with my senior english teacher because she said ayn rand and her books were not political and i was like wtf are you talking about

micro phases i had in high school: loving witch house, wanting to be in skins, wishing i was from socal because i loved best coast so much, rookie mag stan, thinking modcloth was the goat for fashion

[loveshotzz]

I have an idea in my head and I’m going to try and get it out as best as I can and then if you want to run with it go ahead :) so female reader was attacked 2 years ago in the upside down by demobats and turns into a vampire which is a gruelling process but robin helps her through it. Jump 2-3 years and female reader returns to Hawkins when robin calls her to tell her about the ordeal with vecna. Eddie somehow makes it out of the upside down after his attack and starts to change but he doesn’t understand what is going on and female reader spots the signs while they’re at a party and takes him upstairs to a room so she can try and help him. She ends up letting him feed off her which is an extremely intimate moment between the two of them.

Hopefully this makes sense or whatever lol

This is such a cool concept of the reader AND Eddie being vampires. I couldn’t not try and do it considering the bath tub scene in Queen Of The Damned was my sexual awakening.

Warnings: Vampires, blood play, blood sucking, dry humping, spicy.

Author’s Note: sorry if this sucks! I’ve been in my head all weekend. I hope you enjoy! And Happy Halloween!

You watched the way Eddie’s eyes kept darting to the protruding veins on everyone’s necks. They way they turned almost black when he’d lean forward for what he thought was a subtle sniff anytime someone would brush past him a little too closely. You knew the signs, having been through them yourself. You knew exactly what was happening to Eddie Munson.

You had already suspected it when Robin gave you the frantic call a few weeks ago. Voice trembling when she told you about the havoc that was being released onto the tiny town you left years ago.

Feeling like a burden to your best friend, you had to leave. She deserved to live a normal life. Durning your change Robin was always so consumed at helping you through every new discovery. She made it her personal responsibility to take of you, and you couldn’t keep watching her miss every opportunity life was throwing her way.

You had to leave to teach yourself to control your urges, make yourself seem more human. Still hanging onto the pipe dream of getting a resemblance of your old life back.

But when she told you that despite seeing his dead body with her own eyes, Eddie wound up on Dustin’s door step a few days later. You knew you had to go back.

Confused and with no memory of the attack, the scars and bruises that should have been littered all over his body were non existent. The only thing wrong was the incurable burn that tortured the back of his throat no matter what they tried.

Eddie was changing.

Leaning against the side of the drink table with long legs crossed in front of him, his laid back appearance was just a facade. Ringed hands clasp the edge of the wood so hard you can see the whites of his knuckles. You watch his resolve dwindle dangerously low every time someone leans over the punch bowl. The position giving him the perfect view of everyone’s pulses taunting him to sink his teeth in.

It’s when Steve walks over with his empty cup you can feel your feet start to move towards them. Steve smelt better then everyone else, you’d learned that awhile ago. Some people just had something about them, something different in their blood. The way Eddie’s eyes fixate on the large vein when Steve’s long neck presents itself to him you can see the internal battle written all over his face.

“Eddie, hey! It’s been awhile.” You break his concentration right as Steve goes to walk away unscathed.

The specks of brown start to show themselves when his eyes meet yours. Nostrils flaring you can tell he doesn’t understand why he can’t smell you.

“I’ll tell you why, but we gotta get out of here. You’re not gonna be able to hold off much longer.” As if you could read his mind his eyes widen as he processes the words that leave your mouth.

Holding your hand out, you watch him search your face for answers he won’t find. Chocolate pools darting back and fourth before he hesitantly takes it, trusting you.

Your grip is iron clad as you lead him through the packed party. If he hasn’t fed since the change started you can’t trust him not to try anything. The close proximity of everyone was even making your throat itch and you’ve been doing this longer than him.

Pulling him into the bathroom you finally let go locking the door behind you, the sound of his voice breaks through the muffled music outside.

“What’s going on with me?” Barely above a whisper his tone has a hint of fear behind it and it makes your heart break if that’s even something it can do anymore.

You knew how scary this was for you, but at least you had someone like Robin by your side when it was happening. Eddie had no one to help him while his body turned into something he didn’t recognize.

Turning around, you press your back against the door. Ignoring how his close proximity makes your stomach do flips and give him your most apologetic look.

“Those fucking bats, they change you. Their bites.” You finally give. “I know cause it happened to me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission of knowing about the upside down, but it takes him a moment to process the fact that you said they change you.

“Kinda like.. vampires?” You hated calling yourself that it still felt silly. But if it barks like a dog, and acts like a dog it probably is a dog. Or at least that was Robin’s logic when you were trying to figure it all out.

“Vampires?” His face contorts in disbelief before running a nervous hand through his unruly waves.

“You need to feed.” It’s your turn to talk in whispers, this being the part of the conversation you were dreading the most.

“Feed?” There’s a tremble in his voice when he repeats the word he hoped he misheard.

“Eat. Like a human but only not food? God, I’m explaining this badly. I still can’t really believe it myself.” Shaking your head you rub the back of your neck nervously.

Deciding to show him rather then tell him you bring yourself to the porcelain sink. Pushing yourself up, you spread your legs when they dangle off the edge.

“Come here.” Pushing your hair away from your neck you turn it to the side presenting its full length to his hungry eyes.

“What? You want me to feed off of you? No. I don’t want to hurt you.” Despite his words, he licks his lips at the sight in front of him.

“You won’t, don’t worry. This won’t completely satisfy you but it’ll do the job till we can explore your options.” Scooting yourself closer to the edge you reach your hand out inviting him to come closer.

“Options?” His tone is incredulous as his rough calloused hand meet yours.

“Yeah, If you want them. There’s just things that work for me that I’ve figured out.” Invading your personal space you can’t control the heaviness of your breathing.

“What if I can’t stop?” Mumbling his doubts he still brings himself to stand between your legs. One hand on your thigh, the other moves to support your neck, fingers weaving through your hair.

For the first time tonight his focus is on your lips rather then your neck.

“You’ll stop. If not I can stop you. Trust me. I’m not scared Eddie, just let me help.” Your eyes are pleading under his gaze.

He searches your face for any trace of apprehension one last time before he gives you a small nod.

You feel his breath against your skin first, washing over you in hot waves. Hovering just above the nape of your neck his lips drag slowly across the curve. Inhaling sharply you lull your head against his hold, completely opening yourself up to him.

His tongue flicks out tracing the line where your pulse point should be, and you have to bite back the moan that’s threatening to spill out from between your lips. There’s a low growl that rumbles from his chest that goes straight to your core before his teeth finally sink into you.

“Fuck- Eddie.” His name sounds sexual when it comes out of your mouth, so much so that Eddie pulls himself closer. The grip on your neck tightening, his body becoming flush with yours as he continues his assault. You can feel the strain against his jeans when he presses against you.

Completely taken over by the intimacy of it all your legs wrap around his waist on their own accord. Self control becoming non existent as his tongue licks the wounds his teeth inflicted before sinking into another spot on your neck.

Your own fingers tangle in his hair pulling him even closer to your neck. It was like something had ignited inside your body. You had never let someone feed from you before. The intensity of it all becoming overwhelming.

A growl erupts deep in your own chest and you feel your fangs start to come out. Your blood connecting you both in a way that made you feel like you were becoming one person. All your thoughts and desires spilling into each other.

Ripping his mouth away from you, blood smears across his full lips. Small droplets dribble down his chin as he tries to catch his breath.

The sight is enough to make your heels dig into the small of his back pressing your heat firmly on the bulge that hadn’t stopped growing in his jeans. Leaning yourself back your tongue glides across your fangs that were now on full display. This wasn’t about feeding anymore.

Eyes never leaving yours his hand moves from your neck finger tips dragging lazily down the curve and swell of your chest. Stopping once they hit the top of your shirt curving under the fabric.

Rocking your hips you push yourself towards him, encouraging whatever was going on in his head. There was no going back now.

His other hand leaves it’s home on your thigh to meet at the top of your shirt ripping the fabric with so much ease you almost don’t notice till the chill air of the bathroom hits your skin.

Animalistic instincts completely taking over, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Your desperation for him growing ten fold as you jut your chest out for him to take as he pleased.

Skimming his hands up your sides his breathing sounds ragged as it comes out of flared nostrils. Palming aggressively at your breasts once he meets the material of your bra.

“Bite me.” You moan, impatient with all of his teasing. You didn’t mean to sound so pathetic, but the mixture of the crush you’d been harboring for years and the carnal desire that was coursing through your veins you couldn’t help it.

The corner of his lips twitch up at the whine in your voice, the scared man from before completely gone. Pulling one of your straps down he exposes your pert nipple when he move’s the cup out of his way. Leaning his head down your breath hitches when his tongue darts out to tease your hard nub. Your hand slams down hard on the counter next to you, your impatience starting to get the better of you.

Grabbing a fist full of his thick waves you yank his head up with the full power of your strength. When his eyes meet yours you know they are just as black as his.

“Stop. Fucking. Teasing. Me.” Your bitter tone makes his face twist in anger. A rough hand to your wrist he frees himself from your grasp with ease holding your hand firmly back against the counter.

Despite your best efforts to break free from his hold he’s stronger then you right now. The thought should scare you but it only makes the wet spot in your panties grow. It had been so long since you were able to be intimate with someone.

A smirk tugs at his lips when he sees you finally give up and succumb to his whim.

“Good girl.” His voice comes out like silk compared the harshness from before, your blood helping to fully complete his transformation.

Licking the blood from his lips, his eyes roam all over the newly exposed skin. He sucks in the bottom one when he sees you both conjoined at your core. Despite your fighting, the hold on his hips with your feet never eases up. Pushing himself into you again he watches the way the action makes your eyes roll in the back of your head making him repeat the action only harder.

The low whimper that escapes past your lips is enough for him to bring his mouth back to your chest. Full lips encase your nipple in the heat of his mouth, tongue pushing out to draw lazy circles around your areola before his teeth sink back in.

“Jesus - fuck” throwing your head back you ignore the pain of hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His hold leaves your wrist to grip your sides, holding you in place as he continues to lick and bite across your breast. The feeling of your blood meeting his fangs sends your body into over drive every time he takes a taste.

So lost in each other you don’t notice the knock on the door until Robin’s voice breaks through thick haze.

“Are you- is everything okay in there?” The slight hint of panic in her voice doesn’t go un noticed.

Breaking away from your chest, the bottom half of Eddie’s face is covered in your blood. His eyes no longer black with hunger, the chestnut you’d always loved slowing coming back with Robin’s voice anchoring him to reality.

You clear your throat in hopes the shakiness of your voice doesn’t give away what actually transpired in the bathroom.

“Uhhh, yeah Robin. Everything is good. Just getting cleaned up is all.”

Eddie’s looks down at your shirt eyes going big like he wasn’t the one to destroyed it. Raising an amused eye brow at him you roll your eyes before calling back out to Robin again.

“Umm Robin?”

There’s a moment of hesistiation before she answers with a nervous “yeah?”

“Can you steal me a shirt from Steve’s room, I spilled my drink on this one.” Biting your lip you know she’s not going to believe your story by the way she snorts on the other side of the door.

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

[mrshipsmcgee]

In Another Universe

NWH SPOILERS NWH SPOILERS NWH SPOILERS

Please don’t read if you haven’t watched NWH! Thank you!

Also, I haven’t written fan fiction in about 3 years, please be gentle with me. I have hyper fixated on Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker again after years and must write about him LOL.

(Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: After the events of No Way Home, our reader finds herself in the arms of a villainous green man.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

What I listened to on repeat lol

•

The city buzzes with excitement, flowing around you like waves. And all you want is to get to your apartment, away from everyone’s energies and into your safe space; especially after this last shift at the bar.

You quickly walked into the back alley, the quietest route to home and the perfect time to decompress from that one patron’s antics tonight.

What a jerk.

A loud crash comes from behind you, causing you to turn around abruptly. Two figures were fighting violently; one throwing punches and flying through the alley way, the other floating through the air attacking his opponent.

Your eyes finally adjusted to the chaos in front of you.

Spider-Man?

You gasped, starting to back up from the two men fighting. Before you know it, you fall to the ground - hands harshly meeting the alley’s trash clad cement ground, letting out a hiss.

The terrifying floating man’s head whipped towards your hiss, his deep and empty eyes met your gaze - sending chills up your spine. He zoomed towards you. As he did, you realized he was a man you had heard of when you were in late high school.

The Green Goblin.

You screamed as he approached you on his glider, viciously smiling. Too frozen to move, you shut your eyes and let out a faint yell. You felt your body lift off the cement and into the air.

“Harry!” Spider-Man yelled, shooting a web and flying beside the two of you on the glider. The villainous man clung to your body, his nails digging into your ribs. You let out a hushed whimper, looking directly at the stranger you know as Spider-Man. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Harry. It’s been 10 years-“

“Shut up!” The Green Goblin screamed, “I don’t care how long it’s been. I will never be done with you.” He snarled and threw a bomb at Spider-man. As it exploded, the man cackled and tossed you while zooming away.

Falling was like you were in slow motion, wondering how in the world you ended up here so quickly. You stared at the stars wondering what happens once you hit the ground. You start to fly.

You start to fly.

Blinking away from your starry gaze, your head turns to see the red and blue masked hero holding you in his arms as he swings through the bright and crowded city.

Your arms wrapped tightly around Spider-Man as he swings lower and lower, finally dropping you back to the alley way where this all started.

He was panting as he asked, “Are you okay?”

Spider-Man was so tall. You stepped towards him with a whispered, “I think.” You were finally feeling the aftershock of what had just happened.

“Thank you for saving me, sir.” You said with shaky legs.

The hero cocked his head to the side, “Sir? Please - please call me Spider-man.” He reached his gloved hand out and shook your hand.

“I’m MJ,” you smiled, looking down at his large hands.

MJ?

The MJ that Peter 1 from the other universe had?

“Is it possible?” He thought to himself, studying your beautiful face, taking in every detail.

You didn’t look like Peter 1’s MJ.

“Could I ever repay you?” You ask, realizing he had never stopped shaking your hand.

His MJ.

“Spider-Man?” You asked, finally getting his attention.

“Sorry!” He stood up straight, “Post fight jitters get to best of me. Would you - do you need a walk home?”

You smiled looking up at the man in the mask, “I would really like that after what just happened.”

“Would you like to walk or swing?” He asked, pointing in the direction you were walking earlier.

“Would walking be okay for now?” You asked with a small awkward chuckle.

He nodded, walking beside you until the two of you reached your apartment. “Here I am,” you sighed, rocking back on your heels, “ Thank you so much. Could I ever possibly repay you Spiderman?”

Standing up straighter he looked down towards you, wishing he could take off his mask and tell you how you are star-crossed and meant to be. How he has yearned for you since he found out he could possibly have an MJ in this world. How you didn’t ever have to repay him because you were his MJ and that was enough. You being alive was enough.

“Nah,” he laughed it off, rocking back on his heels too, “Maybe I will catch you around the city sometime and maybe you can save me,” he joked.

“Well, you’re totally my friend now Spider-Man, and I still owe you big time; so let me know if you need me,” you smiled, pointing back at your apartment,” I doubt you need saving. You know where to find me!”

“Yes I do!” He laughed, starting to slowly back up from your door step, “And if you need me, just hang around more alley ways.”

“Bye Spiderman,” you said with a smile, “I really do hope I see you again soon.”

You gazed at him, trying to take him in as much as you could take in a masked man.

“I do too,” he said quickly as he shot a web, looking back at you while he perched on the brick wall.

You smiled as you watched him swing away from the brick wall and disappear in the night.

Thank you guys so much for reading!! - here is Part 2 <3 & Part 3 & Part 4 & Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

[lovely-lauren-arts]

I GOT ALOT OF QUESTIONS.. (kinda)

1 . Will Claudes family be in the comic?

2. Do Audrey and Oliver have any other siblings?

3 When Audrey was in the lab, did she like anyone there? Or were they not aloud to talk with other experiments?

4 not rlly a question, but, just me or do Oliver and Claude give of a Harry and Ron duo?

5 how does jail work in obscured eyes?

6 again, not a question but, i am rlly hyper fixation on obscured eyes, its literally the only thing ive thought about since august 2020 😭😭

7 Does Oliver have any nickanmes? If ao, what is it and who calls him it?

8 if chester and sophia escaped, what would they do?

9 what time zone is obscured eyes set in?

10 what country is obscured eyes set in?

I swear this is the last one 😭😭

11 are there any immigrants in obscured eyes?

1. Yes but their role won't be all that important

2. No

3. She was isolated from other experimented people. Daisy interact with her from time to time but, of course, it was only to mock Audrey. So no she didn't meet anyone she liked.

4. Not to me but that's one way to think of them lol

5. Jail and prison work the same in our world.

6. I'll take that as a compliment lol. I'm glad people like it. I can't wait to put out more content for it.

7. His nickname is Ollie but only Claude calls him that.

8. It depends on what happens to Catherine so I can't say for now.

9. Did you mean like what year? There is no specific time period. I based it on the 1960s, 1980s and early 2000s.

10. No country in real life and I haven't given countries much thought. But some of the words, themes, etc. are based on the UK because I live in England.

11. Like with countries, I haven't thought of that either. I've mainly focused on things for the story and world-bulding that will be seen/relevant.