#did she just want to say moist? YES

[shiirakeru]

✘ "Blueeeee, do you like me?"

My muse has to tell nothing but the truth for 10 asks. 2/10

"Like is such a strong word. You're interesting, I'll give you that. Your skin is dry though, and your lips. You gotta make them moist even a little. And deodorant."

[0oolookitsme]

Baby, We're Fireproof

Yes bestie, you are on the right blog and yes, I did write some angst!! Hahaha hope you enjoy!

Verse - Singer!Harry x CEO!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - some insane making-out at the end ;)

Harry has been writing an album, and while Y/n wants to go easy on him, she just can't adjust to his absence and the fact that he has abandoned their relationship. But Harry is quick to realise his fault and remind her that they're fireproof.

In the quiet of the night, Y/n found herself tangled in a web of thoughts, questioning her feelings curled up into a ball on the huge bed.

Harry was yet again, not home. It had been a week since he started coming home later and later. He said it was because he was very close to finishing his new album, and Y/n wasn't quite sure if he realised that whatever he was doing out there, was beginning to put a strain on their relationship.

She wanted to be mature and let him be, knowing his profession was way different from hers. But the question, 'would he have adjusted like this, for this long?' plagued her thoughts.

The corners of her eyes were moist, and she only felt smaller and smaller as the night rolled on. It was pouring outside and even though the balcony was closed, Y/n could still hear the noise, and it only made her more aware of the static silence looming in the house right now.

She wanted to stop thinking so much, knowing that she was going to reach conclusions even she wouldn't believe herself in her right mind. But when she closed her eyes, sleep didn't come and when she opened them, Harry still wasn't sliding into the bed, next to her.

But she must've dozed off amidst her misery because she woke up the next morning with Harry's body tangled with hers, with his head in the crook of her neck, one arm under her head while the other one remained draped across her stomach and his legs twisted like ivy around hers.

She was sweating profusely. So, she got right up and lowered the AC's temperature so that Harry wouldn't wake up drenched like her. Surprisingly, there was no sleep in her eyes. She felt as awake as she'd been in the early hours of the morning.

Climbing down the stairs with nothing going on inside her head, she got herself a hot glass of water with some added lemon juice and went to sit on the sofa in the living room showcasing the sunrise.

Her shoulders were tense, eyes dry and unmoving. She knew there was going to be an argument between the two of them when he'd wake up. But that's okay, because they truly needed to talk this out before things went spiralling a little too far.

She was ready to sort this out and get the tension over with, but she still had that nagging feeling that he might leave the house without bidding her goodbye, leaving behind a mere note mentioning that he loved her and would miss her in the studio, while she'd be in the shower, preparing herself to sit and talk to him.

But that wasn't going to happen today -- she wouldn't let it.

Soft pads of footsteps perked her ears up, but she didn't turn to see him. She just knew that he was rubbing his eye with a knuckle, something that she'd want to disapprove of him for and he would make the faces at her that she found ridiculously funny and had grown to love.

But then she felt warm hands press against her eyelids, closing them and a mouth breathing near the nape of her neck.

"Why are you sitting down here, hm?" He spoke rather quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence. But the rasp in his voice definitely punctured it.

"I think we need to talk," softly, she held his hands and lowered them so they sat intertwined with hers, upon her collarbones. "Please," she whispered, her tone begging him to listen to her and not distract her.

But he was seemingly working well because her eyelids were still shut.

"Well, we can after I have some cuddles with you," he pushed the topic under the rug, knowing that once they'd be done, the both of them would probably be running late.

"No, H," Y/n said sternly, eyes flying open as she pulled on his arm for him to come in front of her and sit. She didn't say much when he just sat on the coffee table in front, opening her legs and putting his closed ones in the space between.

"Say," he said, his eyes set on hers with a nonchalant expression, but Y/n could read the tension in every flexed muscle of his arm and the tightness in his set jaw.

Y/n took a deep breath then. The only thing easing her nerves was the earnest look in his eyes, like he was willing to sit and actually sort this out.

"Don't you think that we haven't really been spending any time together, as of lately?" She spoke just as slowly as her breathing was.

He only nodded at that, albeit little tensely, urging her on.

"I feel that that has been putting a strain on our relationship."

He was still for a couple seconds, or maybe minutes, Y/n wasn't sure.

"I feel the same, babe, I truly do feel the same."

Y/n sensed a but coming, so she didn't speak.

"But I can't really help it, not for a while," he sighed, and Y/n's gaze lost the softness that had been glazing her eyes.

"You're writing an album, and I'm willing to understand how tough and exhausting that must be, but you can't just abandon us for that," she spoke with nods and shakes of her head, her voice rising a level higher.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I've really been trying to be easy and not go on biting at you for not spending each breath of yours beside me, and it should've been easy but it's not because," she stopped to take a breath, one that shuddered. "Because you used to do that, and now you're suddenly not and I'm sorry that I haven't adjusted to it as quickly as you have!" Her brows rose, adding to her words like she was trying her all to make him see the point.

"And I understand if that's too much to ask from you right now, but at least speak with me or spend some time with me because this is a relationship, Harry!" She wanted to stand up and to pace around, but his hands were on her knees, and she didn't want that loss of contact.

Taking a breath to calm herself a little, she crossed her fingers with his again. "It's like we're mere roommates," she began, looking into his tired eyes, noticing his dark circles for the first time.

She didn't even know when they'd first appeared.

"I didn't realise that," he took a breath as if it was suddenly hard for him to speak. "I didn't realise that, that - that's what I'd been doing," with slumped shoulders, he lowered his gaze.

"But I -- you didn't put in any extra effort, either," he insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "You could've visited me at the studio or asked me to stay for a while longer or - or, I don't know!" He finished frustratedly, flailing his arms.

"Oh?" She said before thinking, then took a long breath. "Alright, I agree that I should've done that. That this isn't a one sided thing since it takes two hands to clap," -- she slumped back, crossing her legs -- "but wasn't it you who left while I was bathing, not even bothering to bid me goodbye for the day? Or to send a text mentioning that you were going to be late or that you were ordering food in the studio itself?" She almost suggested.

"I'm sorry about that, I wasn't thinking straight," he said clearly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"So why did you begin kissing me and fucking me every time that I tried to bring up the issue?" She said, maybe a bit more roughly that she'd intended.

"I wasn't doing it to shut you down, the hell?" He looked as if she'd accused him of robbery. "It was just mere coincidence! Yes, I should've stopped when you began to talk but you fell into me as well, didn't you?" He was standing up now, a frown settled deep between his ungroomed brows.

"I missed you every second I spent away from you, it was you who I was thinking about constantly so pardon me if I was exhausted out of my mind and wanted to spend some time with you!"

Y/n gaze was the guilty one now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," she accepted, her throat too dry for her to gulp.

"I just, I can't believe you'd think so low of me," he sighed. "But it's alright, okay? I know we were both frustrated and not thinking straight," he sat back down and held her hands again.

With his thumb and index finger, he softly gripped her chin to coax her eyes into meeting his. 

"Forgive me? I promise I will never write songs about you again," his frown turned into a grin, and he leaned in to hold her gaze when she broke a smile that melted into laughter.

"I hate you," she mumbled, moving to sit in his lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, uncaring about the risk of the coffee table holding their weight unsuccessfully.

"Yeah, I forgive you as well," he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss upon the lobe of her ear.

"Just, don't forget me," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist when he picked her up.

"I really made you think a lot of things, didn't I?" He spoke like he was apologising. "I'm really sorry, love."

He was carrying her up the stairs when she pulled away from the nape of his neck to look at him. "I'm sorry too," she said genuinely, holding his gaze.

"It's okay," he whispered, opening the door to their bedroom by pushing against it with his back before he pushed her onto the bed, climbing in after her and bringing with him the blanket which he wrapped the both of them in, holding her tight against him before he whisked himself away to hold his phone.

"Let's take today off, but don't forget to bring in fresh ideas, tomorrow then!" He said into the recorder and sent the voice message, sliding his phone in his bedside drawer then and lying back down, facing Y/n.

They stared at each other for a little, before Harry broke a smile, making one crack on Y/n's mouth as well. “Baby, we’re fireproof,” he said, smugly grinning, and making her laugh. 

"Kiss me, you fool," she gritted with a scrunched nose, grinning widely until Harry hurried to seal their mouths together, the force causing her to move her head back a bit. 

His scent suddenly filled all of her senses, him being all that she could see, feel, hear, and smell. The same vanilla scent with a light hint of some cinnamon and some woody scent that she’d been missing so terribly.  

His tongue fought against hers until she gave up and he finally had the full access to her mouth. His breath hot against her skin bringing tingles under her skin, and making blood rush to her cheeks and fireworks erupt inside of her. 

Backing away to catch his breath, Harry let out a hoarse chuckle when she came forward in the chase of his lips, causing their noses to smush. Licking his lips, he looked at her mouth for a second too long, seeing a kiss she always let him steal. Cupping the back of her head, he pushed her mouth to his’, relishing in the feeling of just how down bad he felt for her. 

Slowly, he pushed her until her back was flush against the mattress and he was hovering above her, his dainty necklace resting on her neck as he claimed her mouth again, his palms slipping under his shirt that she’d been wearing and making their way around her body without much hesitation due to the map of her body inscribed among the lines on them. 

Her back arched off the bed, pressing her abdomen against his’ while his knee parted her thighs to press up against her core. And as she slumped down into the mattress, the friction between her legs had her swaying her hips for more. 

His hands grazed around her abdomen and stomach, caressing her back before he realised that she didn’t have a bra on. Groaning into her mouth, he pulled back to catch his breath. 

Still heaving, a smirk pulled the right corner of his mouth upwards. 

“Look at you, getting mad at me just because I was writing too many songs about you in the studio,” he teased, and before he could’ve taken another breath, his eyes rolled back as she pulled on the curls near the nape of his neck, and pushed him right back to her mouth once a breath or two had filled their lungs. 

[lowkeyrobin]

hi pookie can I get an mcyt with reader that bakes?? Like they'll just come in on stream and give mcyts a fucking platter of baked goods lol

-🎀 anon

oooo yes omg!! thank you 🎀 anon! <3 got the whole gang in here for this one LOL

MCYT ; "in my baker era"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, slimecicle, & cellbit

warnings ; language, mentions of drugs

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

"Hi y/n- oh, thank you, darling!'

literally has the widest smile on his face

shows off the goods to the stream

"do these have any drugs in them? me n charlie are trying to sell drugs, y/n. we need more stock"

you hear charlie screaming through tommys headphones, "we need the grain, y/n! we need THE GRAIN"

bro is munching away on those cookies holy shit

he feeds chat as well dw

RANBOO

"Hey babe! Oh, thank you!"

does a whole 360 of the plate for chat 💀💀💀💀

"Oh my God, these are so fucking good"

"guys, y/ns in their baking era. can you write an album about that? please become Taylor swift for us"

"BAHHAHAHAH"

literally takes a picture as per usual and posts it to Twitter LMAO

he gets some fans to send you recipes you should try for a serious baking stream LMAO

BADLINU

"Hey love- oh, hi!"

all smiles and shit, he swears you have a sixth sense to know when people are hungry

"guys, y/n made me some bisexuality cake!" He giggles, showing off the tri-colored cake on the plate

he was making a video with harry, tubbo & tommy so everyone had their facecams on

it was like a three tier cake you made and cut out a slice for him

the inside was just the bi flag and the outside was plain white with some fun icing piper testing

he tries it and it's SO MOIST AND SOFT IT IS PERFECT.

there's just 5 raw minutes of him telling you how amazing this fucking cake is LMAO

QUACKITY

"Hey, I'm streaming ba- ohmyfuckinggodthankyou!!"

does a 360 of the plate for the camera

"Holy shit these look so fucking good, thank you so much, y/n"

he's literally just streaming on the qsmp with roeir and fit and he like games and eats the damn cookies at the same time LMFAO

"Dude I feel like I'm high, these are so good, what's in this shit?"

"cocaine"

"WHAT!? DID YOU JUST DRUG ME? GUYS, MY PARTNER DRUGGED ME, HELP"

you're just playing into the bit dw

best red velvet cookies he's ever eaten

CELLBIT

"Hey darling, what's up?"

you hand him the little strawberry shortcake and he just looks at you like 😍😍

turns to his stream and shoves the plate up to the camera all happy like "Oh my God look what they made for me!"

he eats the entirety of it on stream and asks you a bunch of questions

like how you made it, where you found the recipe, etc

he shares it with you too 💔🫶

NIHACHU

"Hi honey! Ooo, what's this called?"

"Chocolate mousse. it's a little thick because it's my first time making it but let me know if it's good"

she holds that little glass like it's her child

she tries it with a tiny spoon you gave her and she's like "oh my God this is amazing, y/n/n"

shows it off to the friends she's streaming with too

"send them more recipes guys, I wanna be spoiled with sweets!"

"thank you nikis viewers!! love you all"

FOOLISH GAMERS

when I tell you this man's face LIGHTS UP.

"you made me fudge? oh my God! I love you"

literally spends the next 15 minutes talking to you and gobbling the fudge down

"since when do you make fudge??"

"since I wanted to try" you shrug

"you should totally make some more... when you're not busy and if you want to!"

"Thank you y/n! everyone say thank you!"

SLIMECICLE

"Oh, hi y/n! thank you so much"

does a 360 for stream

"when did you find time to make this? I thought you were at work????"

"special treat" you shrug

you watch him run across the qsmp and go to ems bakery to sit inside and eat it 😭

he keeps you on stream for a while cause chat loves you n stuff 🫶🫶

[moonstruckme]

Sorry for sending requests back to back lol, I keep having my brain work and it's crazy:

UR RECENT SIRIUS FIC GAVE ME AND IDEA! imagine poly!marauders where both reader and sirius speak french? And maybe reader uses it more when she sleepy (that's usually when I speak french), so she's just sleepily gushing to sirius abt him and james and remus and HOW MUCH SHE FUCKING LOVES THEM AND HOW PERFECT THEY ARE AND SHIT??? Omfggg

Sincerely, :]

Omg yes, thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 719 words

“You’re all too nice to me,” you mumble as Sirius pulls your hair back into a loose bun, James washing your face with a moist cloth. “I love you guys. Not just for this, though. I love you in general.” 

Sirius’ lips curve as he watches bemusement find its way into James’ expression. He wonders if your decision to make your lovey-dovey declarations in French was even a conscious one, or if you’ve just defaulted to it as you sometimes do when you’re this sleepy. He decides to answer you in it regardless. “I love you in general, too, my sweetheart. And we’re not even as nice as you deserve.” 

“I don’t like it when they do this,” James says to Remus, even as he dries your face with a loving hand. “It’s exclusionary.”

“They don’t get it,” you lament to Sirius, catching his smirk in the mirror. “It’s so much nicer when you’re lazy. The words just flow.” 

“I don’t know,” Remus answers James, spitting toothpaste into the sink. “It’s kind of hot.” 

Sirius’ heartbeat picks up frighteningly quickly, but his grin is wicked as he leans his head on your shoulder. “Did you hear that, my love?” he asks, not bothering to whisper since no one but you can understand. “Remus Lupin thinks we’re hot.” 

“Even when they say your name?” James asks, gesturing to Sirius as if to emphasize his point. 

Remus gives Sirius a lingering look. It takes everything in him not to collapse onto the floor. Sirius looks down, breaking Remus’ stare, just to make sure he is indeed still wearing pants. “Especially then.” 

“But they could be saying anything!”

“He’s so pretty,” you say breathily, gazing at Remus. His brows raise at your devoted attention, a twinkle of amusement lighting his amber eyes. Your gaze slides to James, looking at you with suspicion. “They both are.” You turn your eyes last to Sirius, and it’s a different look than the one he’d just received from Remus, but it melts him just the same. “You all are. And all so good, and funny, and smart. I can’t believe my luck.” 

Sirius chuckles, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “Me neither. Do you think they know?” 

You hum, leaning back and letting him support some of your weight. He takes it happily. It’s going to be one of those nights where you’re asleep before the rest of them have even made it to bed, he can tell. “Not well enough.” 

“Cease looking at me like that this instant,” James demands. “Moony, why do they look like they want to eat us?” 

“Doesn’t sound like such an awful idea,” you say through a yawn, pulling out of Sirius’ arms to move towards the bed.

He follows you. “True,” he says, casting a charged look back at his boyfriends. “I could probably gnaw on a bicep, now that you mention it.” 

“It’s kind of nice that not everyone can understand,” you observe drowsily as you slip under the covers. “Makes it easier to say what we mean.” 

Sirius laughs. “Of course these are your darkest, most secret thoughts, you softie.” He sits down on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your lovely face. “If you couldn’t understand me, I’d be saying much filthier stuff.” He cocks his head. “Actually, you don’t know what braquemard means, do you?”

Your eyebrows cinch, and there’s a gasp from the bathroom a moment before James comes barreling into the room.

“I heard something!” He exclaims. Sirius smirks up at him from his place on the bed. “That brack-whatever—it’s dirty, I think. I’ve heard him use it before.” You snicker into your pillow, and James looks at you in horror. “Angel, what’s he roped you into? Is he corrupting you while we can’t protect you?”

“Interesting,” Remus hums, moving slowly towards the bed. He approaches Sirius, nudging the other boy’s legs apart and fitting himself between them. Sirius’ heart pounds against his rib cage as Remus tilts his head up, fingers curled lightly around his jaw. “Gonna tell us what you’ve got to say, pretty boy?”

Sirius takes a shuddering inhale, static filling his head as Remus strokes idly at his face. 

You make an amused harrumphing sound, and speak in English so everyone can hear. “Softie.” 

[bucknastysbabe]

Since you mentioned it before in a different post, and your asks are open… could you please do a smut piece with Jacaerys being shy about wanting a finger up his ass

YES I CAN! JACEYYYYYYY baby🥹🥹🥹so cute

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Jace in da north, Cregan’s sis, established lovers, inexperienced horse cock bb, blowjobs, wet and messy, anal fingering (m!receiving), prostate massage/milking, jace gets a lil cum drunk, fluffy

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @rafeism @howyouloveyourdragon @lovelykhaleesiii @valeskafics @sugarpoppss2 @jamespotterismydaddy

Her grey eyes twinkled as she rested a sharp cheek on his thigh. Jace was panting, his cheeks flushed as he tried to calm down. His cock laid heavy on his taught stomach, dripping pre down onto his light skin. The Stark slid her calloused hand up the prince’s side, cooing, “What did you want?”

Her lips were still swollen from the impossible stretch around his cock. Jacaerys Velaryon might have begged for something off the cuff while his she-wolf was kitten-licking the bulbous tip. Something something ‘please, more, want a finger.’ It was a moment of passion, alright? Jace had a tendency toward blurting his thoughts.

To which she pulled off with an intense look. Those solemn Stark features alight with something downright predatory. She ordered this time, “Tell me what you said, Jace. I’m not judging you.” The lady readjusted herself on the furs, gaze less wolfish. Both of her hands held his waist, thumbs circling gently.

The brunette swore he would start crying. Or explode in a great burst of fire from embarrassment. He bit down on his bottom lip, shakily exhaling. Jace mumbled, “I- I heard my uncle talking about it once. A spot for men…y’know, up their ass. While getting sucked off." He slung an arm over his eyes, groaning in embarrassment. His cock was beginning to soften.

Her hand curled back around him, the Stark laughing, "Nuh, uh, don't you dare. Never had a finger up the ass huh? You're adorable. We always say you Sothron folk are the wanton ones," Jace peered at her pretty face, "You're fine, no need to be shy. M'sure most men think about it. I think about it."

Jacaerys looked up, his curls matted a bit, eyes wide in shock. She didn't care? Still, his flush ran down to his chest but his thick cock was back to swelling up, stretching her hand out. She grinned, raspy brogue teasing, "I just got to get you nice n' wet prince." He groaned, head flying back onto the warm furs as her hand and mouth began to work him.

She drooled on the tip of his cock, bobbing and lapping, hand jerking the spit down and down. His thighs twitched, a shiver crawling up his spine as his cock was growing wetter than he imagined. The she-wolf spat again into her palm, moist tongue probing at the spot under his cockhead. Jace cried out, hand at her dark hair, thighs spreading on instinct.

Spit rolled down to his balls, falling into his crack. Arousal and embarrassment warred within his head, being so open for her in an unmanly place. His lover jerked him, the sloppy sound accompanying the fireplace. She had moved her lips to suckle at his swollen balls to further soak the area. He was making soft noises, writhing, lips unable to close at the pleasure. The she-wolf hummed lazily, shoving a digit into her stuffed mouth.

Jacaerys gasped, back arching when her spit-slick finger pressed against his tight hole. She spat again, eyes lidded, lips curled up into a smirk. "Easy now, easy dragon prince, I'll make you see stars." Jace gulped, placing his trust in her gentle forefinger, hand cautiously wrapped into her braided hair. He was panting now, legs pulling up to plant his heels down.

The small tip of her roughened finger slid through, Stark laughing softly at Jace's withering look. She wiggled in further, thumb sliding up to play with the tip of his cock as a distraction. He swallowed, mouth going dry as he rasped, "Unh...seven above...feels weird." She sighed, "S'okay, it'll get better, focus on your cock right now."

He nodded, swollen lips bitten downright red. The prince focused on her swirling thumb, thighs jumping again as the sensitive nerves pricked and tingled with every movement. He whined her name, eyes falling shut as he huffed. His lover had her finger fully in his ass now, probing.

Jacaerys tried to remain quiet, unsure of the feeling, it was strange and he felt too full. She twirled her wrist around, palm facing the stone and wood beam ceilings of Winterfell. She crooked her long finger up and Jace sharply cried out, eyes open in a flash. She had found it, fuck, his girl had found it. All the discomfort and questioning of manhood had flown out his ears.

Jace stated in a warble, "My, unhhh, Stark, s'that it."

"Yeah, that's it, lookit you, already leaking and trembling for me, sweet prince. You're gorgeous, untouched and mine now."

His dark eyes traveled down to his leaky prick, pooling cum in his belly. Liquid heat had spread from deep within, the root of his cock and balls feeling much too hot and sensitive. He flushed, the feeling almost akin to having to piss...Sweet Mother above do not let that be a thing!

"You're fine, jus' milking you out, s'intense," she rambled, dark grey orbs piercing. She used her messy free hand to pat his flank, offering a kiss on his hip. The Northwoman cooed more, stroking his sweet spot in a pointed massage, not missing a beat. Jace spread his legs like a common whore, breathlessly begging for her to suck him too. He wanted all of it, this all-encompassing feeling.

She complied, not before slipping her middle finger alongside her pointer, still working that little gland with steady circles. Jacaerys didn't realize, he was so caught up in pleasure and writhing around on soft furs. The prince could laugh at himself, he was no better than the deviant Aegon.

Aegon did not have a she-wolf. He had whores. Craven.

Stark sucked down his cock again, her slick throat convulsing around his prick. She eased off and kept her shallow bobs, sucking on the head, applying more pressure as she hollowed stretched lips. Jacaerys spurt onto her tongue, apologizing, "M'sorry, darling, can't stop right now!"

Her muffled laugh was the response, grey eyes rolling amusedly. Jace tugged her braid softly, pouting. Another pump of cum emptied into her mouth, Jace slack jawed as she seemed to push more and more out of him, sucking it all down as she milked him.

He whined deep in his chest, hips weakly bucking as his thoughts grew slow and dumb. Jacaerys was paralyzed with silky, syrupy pleasure. His energy was being drained right out of his cock. She sped up her little movements, Jace slurring the she-wolf’s pretty name. The bone deep heat in his body seemed to rise up, the prince’s noises growing more frequent.

He struggled for breath as the intense feeling crawled up his belly. Jacaerys knew he was about to cum— but he’d been steadily pouring a river down her mouth. He bit his lip, tanned skin erupting into goosebumps, sweat beading on his forehead. She swallowed hard, fingers driving up, up, up. He whimpered, blinking and scrabbling at the furs and her soft hair.

He cried out sharply as the hot flames reached his chest, convulsing and moaning in confusion. Wave after wave of intense bliss wracked Jace’s body, something among the likes he’d never felt before. Stark dutifully drank him down, removing her fingers, Jacaerys whining again at the strange emptiness. He babbled a broken sentence, no clue what he was on about.

She crawled up his shaking frame, curling next to him, rubbing the young man’s flank. “Oh, you needed that hm?”

He nodded, boneless and floating. She pressed a little kiss to his reddened lips, Jace smiling wearily and returning the favor. The girl murmured, “I quite adore you too, dragon prince. Let’s lay around for a while before Cregan comes a’ knockin.”

“P-please.”

Jace burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, her comforting scent around him. He needed much rest now, eyes growing droopy. The prince snuggled in close, burrowing into her and the wonderful furs. The fire crackled on as she rasped little praises and pet his curls. He would never leave this bed if he could, the heir decided. A grin split across his blissful expression, hugging his darling she-wolf tight.

[amememightywarrior]

Food in Dawntrail

Gonna go ahead and share my thoughts on it as posted on twitter, excuse the format!

I found the prevalence of food in DT's MSQ very interesting. In a lot of cultures, food and food-sharing are acts of love both familial and neighborly. It also symbolized a desire to reach out and understand one another, from xibruq pibil to tacos to ice cream to weird grapes.

Our first encounter with food in DT is when Wuk Lamat wants to give us some tacos, but then BJJ smashes them carelessly, a sign that he is rejecting sharing and love

During the lay of repast, which is ALL about food, we learn a lot about the symbolism of meals and food and culture. It's great. 

Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja are teamed up and shown to not understand or care about food and sharing despite the BLATANT emphasis on it in the trial.

More subtle stuff that isn't called out is the way food is raised - like the Crystarium, where wandering around can reveal the importance, if you wander around DT you can find an example of what's called the three sisters method of farming.

For those unfamiliar with this system, it's actually a very culturally important method of farming in the americas where 3 staple crops, maize, squash, and beans, are grown together in a harmonious fashion. and i mean TOGETHER.

The maize, which grows tall and strong, provides support for the beanstalks which curl around it and provide stabilization both physically and nutritionally. At their feet grows the ground-covering squash which shades the soil, keeping it moist and preventing weeds.

The next major time we learn of food and agriculture is in heritage found, where we see people preserving real food as an act of culture more than anything else, showing the resilience of culture and the spirit of sharing in even the most lightning riddled situations.

After that it gets interesting. The concept of food in S9 is abstracted into the absurd (the grapes??? help), but they still share the food. More than that, it's a SPECTATOR sport, seeing WoL and Wuk Lamat eat. If you've ever been to a dinner with a family of a different culture, you will know the experience of tasting a new cuisine for the first time, and people asking you what you think of it. They share their culture with you and hope you approve. It's the sharing of joy, and it's the same as when you eat in S9.

Then we're REALLY challenged. We enter living memory and find the inhabitants feasting on the mere idea of food. They share with us as well, giving us popcorn. Did you lie and say it was great? Did you speak the truth of your tastebuds and reject the popcorn?

The food in living memory is tasteless to us, the only real ones in the place. But the act of sharing, that was the real important part. And so perhaps if WoL lied, it was not to spare feelings, but to show that yes, they were sharing in joy and culture.

Thus introduced, we are hit with that ice cream. We know it tastes of nothing, but we give it to Krile and her parents to share. Krile knows it doesn't taste like anything, and she struggles. But G'raha zips in with his own, to make her laugh and help her understand the joy.

The way each character reacts to food within DT is symbolic and shows a bit of their own perspectives. Someone who's very out on the edges, Estinien, is also someone who has embraced food very heavily after being freed from Nidhogg. He runs around eating everything in sight now.

And of course we also have the cornservant, who wants to feed everyone. I haven't actually done that quest line yet but I can already tell you what's at the heart of it XD

A lot of this we all know, I'm just calling it out specifically because it was beautifully done in DT.

Oh, before I forget: Otis and Gulool Ja

Otis, despite being, er...mechanical, has been feeding Gulool Ja. It is a familial act, feeding and helping this child grow despite zero relation.

is it just another fetch quest? Another shared meal of many shared meals in the field? Or is it asking us to look at this meal in the context of all that came before it?

What does it mean to love and care for one another? Otis shows it by being there and feeding Gulool Ja.

It contrasts with two other parties: Cahciuna's group, and Zoraal Ja.

Zoraal Ja does nothing. He does not feed his child. Abandoned him outright. ZJ rejects family, love, and sharing.

Cahciuna's group is trying really hard to take care of him, and he does allow it because they keep finding and taking him home. But why does he run away to eat with Otis? Cahciuna's response to realizing he WANTS to leave is to allow it instead of insisting.

I find that rather mysterious but I think it shows Gulool Ja prefers organic sharing, not S9 where everything is simply handed to him. Hopefully we see more of him in the future so we can learn wtf is up with this little blue-scaled cutie.

Food takes a background role in a lot of stories but DT took it, explained it, and then challenged our understanding by taking away the most talked about component, stripping away flavor to ask us what the point of food-sharing really is and how it reflects ourselves & our culture.

We've seen a lot of these themes before - ARR used to have a whole thing about feeding the soldiers before the assault on the garlean strongholds, SHB had the infamous rhon ron food stand scene, etc

we just got it called out repeatedly and the concept gently deconstructed for us in DT. 

So. what does the act of food-sharing mean to you? What does it mean to your WoL? How did you see the Lay of Repast? What did you think of the popcorn?

[kira-fluff]

reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!

this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!

‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist

want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)

✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.

✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.

-

"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."

✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.

- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.

- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."

a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders

[witchofhimring]

Disloyalty (Loyalty sequel) preview

After being killed by Alys Rivers in her first life, Y/n Tyrell is taken to the night Aemond Targaryen married another. In her first life she was a pawn first for Joan Tyrell. Now with a heart full of hate Y/n will strive to be the opposite of what she once was, loyal. She will take revenge for her slain son, and the girl she once was.

Pairings:

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen (OC) x Reader

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, trauma, mentions of child morality emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse,marital consummation, misogamy(internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, morally ambiguous reader, ptsd

Extra long spoiler as a treat😘

'Y/n, Princess Ellyn has summoned you.' Pulled out of your thoughts, you saw one of Ellyn's handmaidens standing by the door. Oh, right. You were in Ellyn's service at this time. In all honesty it was a bit funny. Once she had terrorized you so, now the hatred had melted that fear. Besides, there were those you now hated more. Despite that you remembered the interaction clearly. Being imprisoned for months on end gave one time to reminisce. You had poured over every detail and thought of ways you could avenge yourself. And to your savage delight you could. She would dismiss Cerilla and have you alone tend to her. And on a table near by were nails filers. Sharp pieces of metal to style nails, or slice through skin.

In that moment a thought occurred to you. Had the handmaiden, who had now departed, seen the smile that curled upon your face she might have thought twice. G etting up you decided that yes, you would be more than happy to help. Slowly you made the walk to Ellyn's chambers. Last time you had walked slowly out of nerves. Now you did so in order for the time to be right. Your hands shook with excitement. Oh, she would regret summoning you. Whatever accusation she hurled would pale in comparison to what was about to happen. She wanted to ruin your reputation, you would destroy hers.

You enter Ellyn's bathing chambers one had to walk through her bedroom. Six ladies sat sewing or talking in low voices. Good. They would hear the scream. A few looked up and you, one or two gave greetings. No one seemed to notice you looked unnaturally gleeful. A maid opened the door and you stepped into the moist, heavily perfumed room. It was like stepping back in time, because you were. Everything was just as it was last time. Ellyn in a bath, Cerilla fussing over her hair and a maid. Cerilla gave you a nasty look. She was standing right over the water and you imagined giving Cerilla a shove, holding her underneath the waves as she struggled for breath. You would deal with Cerilla later. 'You. Get the herbs.' It was strange to see Ellyn so healthy. Jaecerion had not gotten to her yet. 'You never should have been so cruel to me.' You thought.

Nothing was said as you placed the herbs in warm water. You could feel Ellyn's cold blue eyes on you. Luxuriously she stretched out and eyed you imperiously. She had no idea what was about to happen. 'I think this suits you.' You wanted to say something. Ellyn no longer scared you as she once had. But for your plan to work everything had to go as it did last time. 'The Princess is speaking to you.' Yipped Cerilla the little lap dog. 'If the Princess whishes me to answer she may say so herself.' You heard the water splash as Ellyn got up and in a moment was out of the tub. Her nails dug into your skin just as they had last time. Back then it had hurt, but since then you had faced far worse. There were no tears in your eyes. Because you were no longer that little girl. You had always been prideful, but back then had buckled under Ellyn.

'I am the Princess, you are my lady in waiting! You are nothing compared to me.' When her grip tightened you cried out. Louder than last time so they would all heart. 'I will keep you by my side if only to further vex you. Every night I will have you wait as my husband loves me. And when I have his son you may be here to assist. Then maybe I'll send you to the Silent Sister to release you from your torment.' Cerilla and the maid left, the door slamming shut. This was so easy you wanted to laugh. Last time she had laughed, you remembered. Not this time.

'How do you know it will be a boy.' You had leaned in very closely. The whisper could only be heard by you two. A hot ugly flush crept up her cheeks. 'No laughter?' You thought. Suddenly you were thrown back against the table. Behind you could hear the clattering of nail files. 'I am simply curious, no brothers...I mean. And I have heard some men put away...deficient wives. Perhaps you, not I, will be sent to the Silent Sisters.' Ellyn's hands closed about your throat. Her thin nails scratched at the skin. 'You bitch! I will have you flayed alive!' She hissed. Suddenly Ellyn jerked back, because in your hand was the nail file. It sparkled n the sunlight. Pale, unmoving, Ellyn stood here frozen. Then she sneered. 'I am a princess. You can not harm me.' 'Oh, your right. You seized her by the arm. An insidious smile curled on your lips, shocking the princess. And then in front of Ellyn you cried out 'Please don't hurt me!' all the while smiling. You forced the nail file between thin fingers, the sharp edge pointed right towards you. 'But you can harm me'. That was when Ellyn, with horror, realized what you were about to do. But it was too late. Pointing the razor towards flesh, you stabbed.

Note: I decided you provide you guys with an extra juicy piece today! I am so so so excited and have already started on book 2. The first chapter will be up in a few months because I really want to take my time with part 2. The problem I found were continuity errors that I will need to go back and fix. The first six chapters will be written and edited before released so that I will not be rushing through. Any major edits I do will be explained. In the mean time feel free to ask any questions. You guys have honestly been amazing and made writing a true joy. Words can not describe how thankful I am. I know when you guys comment I write thing like "glad you like it" and sorry if that comes off as repetitive. It is a bit difficult to respond because I get kind of flustered with all the lovely comments you guys give me💕. I want you guys to know that I am actually very grateful.

From now to when the first chapter of book 2 comes out I will be working on editing other stories and putting out one shots. See you guys soon!

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[crimsonmoonlight88]

Together Strong

Pairing: Noa x Mae

A/N: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up. Just a short drabble inspired by a scene from Avatar that refused to leave my mind.

--

It was hard to believe the war for world domination was over for now--harder, even, to think how much had changed since the first time Mae had stepped into this ruined observatory and gazed upon the stars.

Like that fateful night, the sky was dark and cloudless, glittering with stars and the promise of a brighter future. Mae had been wrong, then. The world did not belong to the humans--it belonged to humans and apes, and together they would need to navigate this new age.

The Eagle Clan had tripled in size, and was now established as one of the leading territories. The Clan had chosen a new Master of Birds and Warlord, which called for a celebration. Mae had never known what it was like--to feast and laugh and tell stories over bonfires. To listen to the beating of drums and chants of song.

The festivities that followed the ceremony would last long through the night, and she had needed a moment of quiet, seeking this long forgotten place beneath the stars.

As Mae moved toward the telescope, she heard him enter, intentionally making himself known as to not startle her. But he did not speak. She wondered when he had noticed she had slipped away; he always seemed keenly aware of where she was, just as she was of him.

The past few weeks--months, really--had been nothing but plotting and planning and fighting. There had been blood, and death, and little time to talk about much else but war and peace. Mae did not mind. It let her avoid the truths she feared to acknowledge.

But she knew she could longer avoid them.

"It feels like ages since we were here," she said finally, a hand trailing over the cool bite of metal. "You are the Master of Birds now." She dug a finger into a groove, feeling moist dirt there. "Anaya says you will make a bow from the wood of the tallest tree." She paused. "And you will choose a mate."

Noa said nothing, watching her from the shadows in that silent, still way of his.

For some reason, Mae could not look at him, even though she could hardly look away during the ceremony. He had been covered in dark blue and white woad, adorned in armor that made him look more a knight than an ape. Master of Birds and Warlord. A leader.

Mae reached up to the necklace she always wore, her fingers playing with Raka's medallion--the symbol of peace and strength. "Nina is a good singer," she admitted. The female was one of the best in the clan, taming even the most wild of eagles.

A beat of silence. And then Noa said, his voice drifting from the shadows, "I do not want...Nina."

Mae suppressed a smile, but it quickly faded. "Soona is a good hunter. And an even better friend." And you were born within a sunset.

Another beat of quiet. And then--

"She is...all those things." He paused. "And family."

Mae stilled, not just at his words, but because he had snuck up behind her. She turned, half dreading what she might find. Noa stood at his full height, intimidating in his warrior's garb. He was hardened from war, but his eyes were still soft as he looked at her.

"But I have...already chosen," Noa went on gently. He reached out, his large hand covering hers over the medallion, his eyes bright. "But this woman...this...Nova...must also choose me."

Mae smiled at him, blinking back tears. "She already has."

His lips parted slightly, almost in disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his strong hands finding the back of her neck.

"You choose...this?" he breathed. "You choose...Eagle Clan? Me?"

He had once asked her if apes and humans could live together. Then, she had not known. But now, she could see no other future. Noa and Raka, Soona and Anaya and the others, even the humans that had joined their forces, they were family now.

"Yes," Mae answered. "Our cause is important. What we have built is important." She reached up, cupping his cheek. "You are important. To me."

His hands tightened on her neck, no doubt remembering those words, how he had said them to her on the battlefield when he had begged her to run. She refused. She would not leave him and the others then, and she would not leave them now.

Mae closed her eyes. "Together," she went on, "strong."

"Together," Noa echoed, his voice a promise, "strong."

And as they stood there under the stars, ape and human but somehow twin souls, Mae knew, no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side.

Together.

[reasaph]

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior."

Soshiro Hoshina x Suicidal Fem Reader!

Summary: (name) a person with no beliefs, no reason and will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets hoshina soshiro and she's been looking forward to waking another morning since.

TW:mention of death, reader got hospitalized for attempting, mention of bedrotting.

Title is from the song "sailor song" by Gigi Perez!

Part 2!

You and Soshiro talked for hours, the cans of the coffee he's got you both long forgotten and moist. To say they were the most comfortable hours of your life wouldn't be an exaggeration. Your sure hes got you hooked. Humbly, you ask anyone; be it fate or any god. You wish, you beg, you 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 to whoever in charge to extend the hours with him. One minute more to bask in his presence, thats it. You've never desired something so much that you decided to pray. That was something you never thought you'd do. You didnt dwell your whole personality on just a mere belief. But he's got you on your knees, hands claspped with eyes screwed shut, asking for another more minute.

"So so, what d'ya do you think the doctors here do on their free time?" A silly and deranged question. From the short time you'd spend with him, not even a day Long, you had keeped count of those incoherent questions of his. You dont know if he was doing it On purpose, but those questions are the ones That sat you here on this bench fo hours.

"well, This is a tiring job. So they'd probably want as much rest, right?"

"Probably, Your right. I like to think they gossip about patients."

"Thats completely unprofessional."

He laughs. You laugh to, and you dont evem realize it. The vibrating echo of Your laughter didnt sound forced this time, it didn't need to be ripped and snatched out of your throat. It was sincere, you could say it would only be with him. This is new, clutching your stomach in futile attempt to control the laughs that keep escaping, incredibly new. You dont even know what your laughing at anymore, you just are. Hoshina had stopped making noise the moment you did. It was his first time hearing someone laugh like that, so raw and free. He could tell your unfamiliar with the sound of your own happiness, it wasnt rocket science. He feels like he'd just unveiled an artifact, so precious even when kept and hidden for centuries. It would mean the world to him if he could keep making you laugh like this. He didn't say anything, he'd be so guilty if he interupped you at your highest.

But all good things must come to an end. You know that the most. Your familliar with the bitterness that comes after everything worth hanging on to. It all seemed to short, even now. The moment Hoshina checked the time, you knew what was coming next, you could smell it a mile away. Yet you still hopped you were wrong, you dont want this conversation to end just yet. You dont want to face everything head on again. That face he made told everything, it screamed 'i have to go' and it wrathed over your chest. You dont want him to go, you dont want to leave the comfortable atmosphere with him. And above all, you dont wanna feel like an empty walking corpse once more. Hoshina turned to face you, a mourning look adorned his features. That was a new expression of his you've witnessed, you've only seen him giddy and silly until now. Now, he looks upset. You know your time with him is over for today.

"Hey, (name), really sorry but I hafta go now. That smug of a doc said I have prescriptions to take." Thats odd, why is he apologizing? Could he perhaps feel the same agony as you? You believe its impossible, but not because you think he doesn't care. Because he cant possibly match the ache in your chest. He cant, for its to much to even put into words. He hasn't even moved from his seat yet you already long to be in his presence again. Hoshina is sad, yes, but you are 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.

"Its fine, I really uh— enjoyed talking to you."

"Hey now, dont say it like we wont see each other again. Yer still treating me tomorrow, dont forget about that now. "

"Right."

You guys parted ways after waving goodbye and mumbling 'see you'. The walk back to your hospital room, you felt even more empty and hollow each step your feeble legs took you. Because each step signicates a meter added to the distance between you and him. You dont know where Hoshina is right now, you cant pinpoint his exact location in this big of a hospital and If you could strap a beacon on him, you would. Your chest boils once again, you could feel your lungs close to giving in. It was hell all over again, yet this time, the pain your experiencing is caused by longing. Not because of something so unpleasant, but because of something beautiful. Beautiful, despite being so painful. You pass by many people on the way back, patient and worker alike. You wished you'd pass by a man with a purple bowlcut instead.

You arrived to your own quarters and just collapsit, headfirst on the hospital bed, burrying rour face onto the pillow. It smelled alcholic, to much chemicals used to cleanse it. You inhaled a breath full despite it, the smell left a blazing path in your nostrils, on their way to Polute your lungs. You laid back up right, now met with the pristine material of the crystal white ceiling. Why does every hospital have to be white? Its always so blinding. Not to mention your now having a staring contest with the very source of light in the room, that antagonizing light bulb. It'll turn off automatically at a certain time, but you want it to close now. The darkness was always your comfort, there you were able to lay yourself bare without anyone having to see you.

Your mind wanders back to Hoshina, it seems he put a leash on you as to why you keep thinking about him for more than a normal amount for just a day. You dont wanna be where you cant see him, you wanna hear his sickenly joyous voice and his flashing smile that outshines even the farthest of stars, you wanna talk nonsense with him again, his nonsense never failed to Lift the corners of your mouth to a smile. And you will, tomorrow.

Tomorrow, 8 am. Thats the time you've both agreed upon. Usually, you wouldn't get up until late in the afternoon, just rotting on your bed, the walls would always cave in and the atmosphere was suffocating. You never got up. There was no good reason to, you almost convinced yourself to throw all common sense and self hygiene out the window and just get buried rotting on your bed. Because every time you'd get up, it feels like every misfortune of the whole globe are dumped on your shoulders. It weighs you down, it weighs you back on that sickenly sweet mattress and there you stay there until the next blue moon.

But now, you want to drift to sleep faster and when you wake, your ready to meet Hoshina again. Your so eager to see him, it cant be controlled. His face is the only thing you'd never get tired of. You think its hilarious, you've only met him but you were sure he could mean more. This isn't just some high school crush, your confident about your feelings towards him for you've never felt something this intense your whole uears of living. Not even your longing of death can overrun this feeling. You sew your eyes tight, seeing only pitch black, all this so you could finally sleep and who knows? Maybe even see him in the phantasms of your unconscious state of mind. Thats how low you've stooped. You'll sleep so you can see him faster, you dont like waiting long.

Eventually, you do fall asleep. But not Hoshina. Yes, he's still awake, in his own room, fresh bandages wrapped around his injuries he got from fighting. And yes, if your wondering, hes thinking about you to. He yearns to be in your presence as well, almost as much as you. He doesn't know why. He talks with everyone like that, but he's enjoyed his time with you exceedengly more. Hoshina has been put aside his whole life, all because of his talent and preference for blades over guns. Just because of one measly difference, he was treated differently and looked down upon. But with you, he felt cherished. Its a first for Hoshina to not get judged by first meeting. He doesn't have to train hard or change anything to impress you, it'll come naturally. Hoshina turns around on the matress, facing the window so the ripe rays of the moonlight slapped on his face in result. 'I wants to see her again' was the last thing he talked about before falling asleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Its 6 in the morning and your half awake. You woke up to early, just how excited are you? But its not a good thing that theres still alot of time before the agreed upon time. You just know that the next 2 hours will double tenfold when waiting to see Hoshina again. Your not a morning person, not at all. Your regular routine is not for the faint of heart. If some woke up at 6am, you'd be turning off Your phone and tucking yourself to bed. So your shocked by your eagerness to see him, to the point where you'll try to get better. Your convinced Hoshina has hit you with a pan, because your aacting absolutelyInsane.

You brush your teeth and hair, and thoroughly clean your bruises as to the doctors said. You wonder when you gonna get discharged but thats for later, dear reader. You dread the fact that you have to wear that awful hospital gown again, but alas, it is required. You try to look as presentable as you can. You usually wouldnt bother putting effort in your physical appearance, but you figured it would be nice for once. You were sat on a chair, waiting impatiently like a child waiting for they're treat. You were milimeters close to just turning the Whole building upside down just so you can see Hoshina.

So imagine how excited you were when the clock had acutely hit the digit 8. The minute it did, you were busting out of the room, with your injured leg by the way. The pain had seemingly went away and healed, or it was Just overpowered by your giddyness that your nerves didn't have the space to make up for physical pain. So here you were, dragging yourself across these hallways once again. You passed by that same old lady on a wheel chair that you did yesterday. She gave you a judging face back then, which a wasn't such rare occurrence, you were used to having such glares dumped upon the entirety of your shameful being. But now you wondered if she found any difference, between the walking dead body you were yesterday and the eestatic, hungry, affection driven limp you are now.

Whilst you were rushing like you were catching up to a work deadline, he was enjoying his walk through these glossy, hauntingly white hallways. Taking each step according to the comfort of his legs, hands crossed on the broadness of his chest as he struts the hallway. Soshiro Hoshina has always been scary great at maintaining his composure. Those under his wing back at the third division are well aware of it, they have front row seats to how he switches from acting all goofy to having a stoic face in a matter of miliseconds, they even kidded around about how his control over his expressions is the work of witchcraft. However, don't be fooled by his calm demeanor, he's excited to see you as well. But as Vice-captain, it wouldn't be very ideal to him if he just jogged as fast as he can in patient filled hhallway. Hoshina disciplined himself to the bone, he wont let up now.

After what seemed like an eternity of turning corners and navigating his way through these hallways, Hoshina finally sees sight of the cafeteria. He steps in, and the homogenous smell of the food slaps him in the face. If he was weird enough to concentrate and differentiate the aroma, he probably can guess whats on the menu for today. Hoshina wastes no time in trying to find your presence, your presence in which he couldn't get enough of yesterday. His head startes whipping around, turning left to right, right to left in search of a peek of your appearance. He was baffled to say the least, shocked at the population of the people present here this morning. He wants to see you, asap. He started walking to those with even with the slightest resemblance of what your physical appearance looks like, in hopes that it would be you. He saw someone with the same hair color as yours, kinda fooled him there for a brief second. He just kept circling around the vastful room, so distracted in finding you. He doesn't wanna merely sit down and wait, conclude that your not here yet and he should just sit tight. Scarlet eyes scanned the whole cafeteria, but eyes always had blindspots where they provided no visuals, thats why he didn't notice your presence coming up from his south.

You tapped his shoulder from behind.

He doesn't think hes ever whipped his head back that fast his whole life. Hoshina turned his head so urgently he swears he heard a subtle pop in his neck. Upon seeing the sight of your face, he was 'joyous', actually thats underwhelming what Hoshina was feeling at the moment, he was euphoric. His skin feels like its being roasted and his lungs are short of gas. He feels weird, he doesn't know what to do or what to say so hoshina just stood there agape. You didn't move a muscle either, mouth zipped shut with no intention of letting put any sort of noise in fear that he'd back away. You didn't dare try to make a distance, everything else caved in, nothing else mattered, just the one in front of you. He looked so right, and by that you dont mean he's handsome (although he surely is very attractive). By 'right' you mean you'd never get tired of his appearance.

Hoshina Soshiro, to you, is the finest work of art exhibited in museum of life, the most astounding creation of matter you've laid your eyes upon.

Oh shit, you like him, the Hoshina Soshiro.

[turn3tifosi]

say love - james tw

lando norris x fem!reader

he loves her but she can't let herself be hurt again, so he does his best to let her take her own time

masterlist

It had been a fun night. She knew agreeing to Lando's invite would mean she would end up staying out late. She didn't mind. The two had become friends a few months prior through a mutual friend and she was astonished at how easily the brit made her comfortable around himself. Currently they were in the back seat of car, looking at a view everyone in Monaco had seen once or twice. Her eyes were filled with stars, either they were a reflection of the sky or just his delusion. He looked at her with love, it was a look she knew well. She knew the eyes so many before him had made at her. It made her uncomfortable, and for the first time since they had met, she moved apart. Just a bit, but he noticed.

"I love you," three words, and all of a sudden, the pleasant night wind seemed chilly. She didn't respond, internally hoping she had misheard him. She liked him. He was an amazing guy, he made her happy, he was not like the other guys who had said the same words before. She wanted to scream. At that moment, she hated herself. She hated how she had given every other guy a chance and now, that she finally met someone who could actually keep her happy, she couldn't let herself give him the chance.

He noticed. The subtle movement, the look in her eyes, he noticed everything. It was funny. How his brain focused on everything when it came to her, not ignoring even the tiniest of movement. He knew there was something wrong. "I can't say it back Lando," he knew this was coming. He didn't mind the rejection. He got up from the back seat, heading to the driver's seat, planning on dropping her off at her apartment.

She held his hand, stopped him, and with a barely audible whisper, said, "Don't tell me you love me until you actually do. There's a difference between like and love." She couldn't let him go. She was scared, yes, but she knew Lando. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. And if he did, well she can just cry and cuss him out, no? She wanted to have a future with him, but she needed baby steps. 'Cause we got all of the time in the world To say love, say love, say love, say love"

He wanted to hug her right then. He wanted to hold her hand, look into her eyes and tell her all about why he loved her. He knew it was more than like. Instead he chose to comply, "We have all the time in the world, we can wait. How about taking the gorgeous woman I "Like" to lunch tomorrow?" She laughed and he could swear he heard an angel. Her eyes moist, holding back tears, and a big smile on her face, he knew he was falling even deeper in love. He didn't mind falling, as long as it was for her.

The next day, they went to lunch. Somehow they ended up spending the evening at her apartment. Somehow, she ended up telling him all about the guys who broke heart after swearing that they would never hurt her. Somehow he ended up on her couch, her in his arms, as he promised her, "I won't go. You are stuck with me as long as I'm alive. Unless you decide that you're sick of me, in which case, you would break my heart."

[marvelobsessed134]

Living dead girl

This is part of my spooky summer series! You can find the masterlist on the pinned post on my profile!

For the record, the reader is like a yassified zombie with a few blemishes lol. Think Ghoulia Yelps.

Parings: Paul x Zombie!Reader

Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), non verbal consent/communication, reader can’t talk, reader is dirty like actually she has dirt on her and shit

Paul wandered throughout the woods for no reason at all. He just wanted to be away from the boys for a while. Living with them all the time and being almost confined to the boardwalk of Santa Carla can get old. Suddenly he heard a noise.

The blonde’s head turned to see a human like figure by a tree. He decided to get a closer look. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before.

Greenish skin, wounds all over, green hair. You looked undead. “Uh, hi. Sorry for disturbing you. I’m Paul.” He said.

You examined the man, he seemed harmless so you limped your way towards him. Paul noticed you were like a zombie. Except zombies aren’t this beautiful and human looking…right?

Looking at him, you felt something you haven’t felt in a long time since you died…arousal. He had long blonde hair, beautiful eyes, and a gorgeous physique.

Suddenly your hand reached out and caressed his leather jacket. Paul watched your movements carefully, in case he had to defend himself. But he could tell you were probably not going to cause any harm.

“What’s your name?” He asked. You tried to speak but remembered that your vocal cords are basically dead and only a grunty sound came out.

“You can’t talk?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He asked and you nodded.

“You’re very beautiful.”

You wish you could blush, but you can’t since there’s literally like no blood in you.

“Are you a zombie?” Paul asked and you nodded once again before threading his fingers through your hair. Obviously it was quite dirty just like the rest of your body but he didn’t care. He found it quite erotic.

Suddenly you gripped his shoulders to hoist yourself up as you pressed your lips to his. Paul was shocked for a moment before kissing you back, feeling the chapped texture of your lips. But again, he didn’t care. He found you so erotic. Sexy. Exotic.

His hands wandered your body and tore away your already ripped up dress he laid you down on the ground and fondled your breasts, tweaking your hard nipples. You moaned, feeling so overwhelmed by this feeling you haven’t had in so long. Years. Ever since 1969 when you got bitten by a zombie and passed away on your way to Woodstock. But now, you feel a little more human again.

The blondes’ hands trailed down your body to your pussy that was soaked with slick. He rubbed your clit with his index finger making you jerk up, then he entered your hole, thrusting his finger in and out while his thumb creeped up to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles.

You were a moaning mess as he did this, digging your nails inside the moist dirt ground. “Holy fuck this pussy is so good.” The vampire groaned as he continued to stimulate you till you clenched around his fingers with a loud cry as you came.

He didn’t waste anytime licking your cum off his fingers.

“Hey, I have a place with my friends. I can help you get cleaned up and stuff…you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Paul suggested. Your eyes widened. The offer was very kind but you were afraid that it might be some kind of trap. You decided to take the risk and you nodded your head yes.

Paul stood up and scooped you up in his arms bridal style and carried you off to the boys’ cave.

[manynarrators]

So I'm reading Queen of the Damned for the first time, and the following bit stood out to be. Excerpt (pg. 139-141) under the cut because it's a bit long, but I want to talk about it!

This comes from the chapter about the Talamasca, and this particular passage is David Talbot (head of the organization) trying to prove to Jesse that vampires are real.

Imagine, there is so much of you on file as to be the example that vampires exist. You have been recreated in unsettling detail and kept in the archives. You and the painting both survive, but you are not the you in the painting.

Nor are you the most important part of this, you are a link to a story that isn't even yours. Your theatre isn't yours because the deed is in the name of Lestat de Lioncourt. There's a journal article with you smiling. You only maybe know about all of this.

Five-hundred years and you are a pretty thing on a shelf, still. That is what you will always be to them.

All of which is to say, that the show having just folders upon subfolders on Armand is both somehow more devastating reading the book, and also an accuracy! I want to read the files, what does the Talamasca know? How do they talk about Armand? How many people have seen this painting? Does Armand know about the extent of the archive, if so, how does he feel about that???

I'll take questions that will never be answered but that I desperately want to be for $500.

She saw an enormous painting against the far wall. She placed it at once as Renaissance, and probably Venetian. It was done in egg tempera on wood. And it had the marvelous sheen of such paintings, a gloss that no synthetic material can create. She read the Latin title along with the name of the artist, in small Roman-style letters painted in the lower right corner.

"The Temptation of Amadeo" by Marius

She stood back to study it.

A splendid choir of black-winged angels hovered around a single kneeling figure, that of a young auburn-haired boy. The cobalt sky behind them, seen through a series of arches, was splendidly done with masses of gilded clouds. And the marble floor before the figures had a photographic perfection to it. One could feel its coldness, see the veins in the stone.

But the figures were the true glory of the picture. The faces of the angels were exquisitely modeled, their pastel robes and black feathered wings extravagantly detailed. And the boy, the boy was very simply alive! His dark brown eyes veritably glistened as he stared forward out of the painting. His skin appeared moist. He was about to move or speak.

In fact, it was all too realistic to be Renaissance. The figures were particular rather than ideal. The angels wore expressions of faint amusement, almost bitterness. And the fabric of the boy's tunic and leggings, it was too exactly rendered. She could even see the mends in it, a tiny tear, the dust on his sleeve. There were other such details-- dried leaves here and there on the floor, and two paintbrushes lying to one side for no apparent reason.

"Who is this Marius?" she whispered. The name meant nothing. And never had she seen an Italian painting with so many disturbing elements. Black-winged angels…

David didn't answer. He pointed to the boy. "It's the boy I want you to observe," he said. "He's not the real subject of your investigation, merely a very important link."

Subject? Link... She was too engrossed in the picture. "And look, bones in the corner, human bones covered with dust, as if someone had merely swept them out of the way. But what on earth does it all mean?"

"Yes," David murmured. "When you see the word 'temptation,' usually there are devils surrounding a saint."

"Exactly," she answered. "And the craft is exceptional." The more she stared at the picture, the more disturbed she became. "Where did you get this?"

"The order acquired it centuries ago," David answered. "Our emissary in Venice retrieved it from a burnt-out villa on the Grand Canal. These vampires are endlessly associated with fires, by the way. It is the one weapon they can use effectively against one another. There are always fires. In Interview with the Vampire, there were several fires, if you recall. Louis set fire to a town house in New Orleans when he was trying to destroy his maker and mentor, Lestat. And later, Louis burned the Theater of the Vampires in Paris after Claudia's death." Claudia's death. It sent a shiver through Jesse, startling her slightly.

"But look at this boy carefully," David said. "It's the boy we're discussing now."

Amadeo. It meant "one who loves God." He was a handsome creature, all right. Sixteen, maybe seventeen, with a square, strongly proportioned face and a curiously imploring expression.

David had put something in her hand. Reluctantly she took her eyes off the painting. She found herself staring at a tintype, a late-nineteenth-century photograph. After a moment, she whispered: "This is the same boy!"

"Yes. And something of an experiment," David said. "It I was most likely taken just after sunset in impossible lighting conditions which might not have worked with another subject. Notice not much is really visible but his face." True, yet she could see the style of the hair was of the period. I "You might look at this as well," David said. And this time he gave her an old magazine, a nineteenth-century journal, the I kind with narrow columns of tiny print and ink illustrations. There was the same boy again alighting from a barouche-- a hasty sketch, though the boy was smiling.

"The article's about him, and about his Theater of the Vampires. Here's an English journal from 1789. That's a full eighty years earlier, I believe. But you will find another very thorough description of the establishment and the same young man."

"The Theater of the Vampires…" She stared up at the auburn-haired boy kneeling in the painting. "Why, this is Armand, the character in the novel!"

"Precisely. He seems to like that name. It may have been Amadeo when he was in Italy, but it became Armand by the eighteenth century and he's used Armand ever since."

"Slow down, please," Jesse said. "You're telling me that the Theater of the Vampires has been documented? By our people?"

"Thoroughly. The file's enormous. Countless memoirs describe the theater. We have the deeds to the property as well. And here we come to another link with our files and this little novel, Interview with the Vampire. The name of the owner of the theater was Lestat de Lioncourt, who purchased it in 1789. And the property in modern Paris is in the hands of a man by the same name even now."

"This is verified?" Jesse said.

"It's all in the file," David said, "photostats of the old records and the recent ones. You can study the signature of Lestat if you like. Lestat does everything in a big way, covers half the page with his magnificent lettering. We have photostats of several examples. We want you to take those photostats to New Orleans with you. There's a newspaper account of the fire which destroyed the theater exactly as Louis described it. The date is consistent with the facts of the story. You must go over everything, of course. And the novel, do read it again carefully."

[iknwreid]

sweet nothing – spencelle.

“industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talkin' hucksters out glad-handin' each other and the voices that implore, “you should be doin' more" to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it"

wc: 1.1k | disclamers: comfort. im thinking second season spencelle. | a/n: english is not my first language, i just really love spencelle and taylor swift. this song is literally them. text divider by cafekitsune.

It was too much for her. This job was all Elle ever wanted: make her father proud, to do good, to arrest some crazy sons of bitches. But sometimes, just sometimes… It was too much. When she got home, she'd sit on her couch and stare off into the distance, her gaze lost, only her mind working, wondering if it was really worth it. It was hard to give up and it was not like her. She would never do that. Being the first female profiler in the BAU was not something to give up. And that's why she couldn’t afford to show her weakness to anyone. They would certainly misjudge her, she wouldn’t be good enough. Too soft.

Elle was soft. Tender, friendly, sweet. Sometimes a little awkward. Spencer could see that through the mask she wore. He could notice all her little details. She was too important to him, of course he would know her. Elle made Spencer feel like a whole person and not a crazy nerd with only that to show. She listened to him when he talked about anything, – “What a mind, Reid.” – even if she did not really understand, and he sat by her side when she wanted company but was not brave enough to say so. They were good for each other like no other. There were only a few words in the air, but it was just perfect for their connected minds.

Every now and then, one case would get rougher than the other, and it was inevitable not to let it affect her. Perhaps even impossible. Elle sat at her desk, Spencer in a chair beside her. They were silent for a moment, looking at the case file and writing all the horrors back into their memories. Spencer looked at her, tracing all her features and looking at her mysterious face that was glancing at what seemed to be nothing. She had recently cut her bangs. Reid found that lovely, it really suits her, he thinks. 

“Elle.” A voice they recognize echoes through the bullpen. Hotchner stands on the steps of the staircase with a serious look on his face. She stands up before answering. “Yes, Hotch?” she swivels her hips and walks towards him. Spencer watched the scene not quite so discreetly, his eyes fixed on the two familiar faces. He could see Hotchner opening his lips to say something, but he couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He knew, however, that these words absolutely crashed Elle’s mind. She was an expressive person, and he definitely inferred the topic of conversation when her face turned into a miserable expression as her hands grabbed at her arms to hold onto something to keep herself from falling. Reid stood up without moving, but he was ready to if he had to. Not even a second later, all he saw was Elle leaving the bullpen, faster than ever before. Even faster than when they had vacations. His eyes searched for her, not wanting her to leave.

Spencer walked up to her and touched her on the shoulders as she stood in the hallway. “Hey, Elle?” His voice was soft and low, he did his best not to startle her. She turned to him, her eyes moist and an astonished expression on her face. “What happened there?” he dared to ask. She was silent, open-mouthed, as if searching for the right words.“He said I should have done more.” Greenaway said at the moment a tear welled up on her face. Spencer stared into her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say, in fact, not even knowing what he wanted to hear. “You've done more than enough, Elle.” His hands softened the touch in her shoulders, sliding down her arms and then over her hands, touching them lightly before crossing his arms. She looked down at the floor and nodded her head slightly. She was disappointed with herself. And she knew she should be doing more, but hearing that from another person was soul wrecking. Hotchner's words were like waves crashing on the shore. “No, he's right, Spencer.” 

It was natural for him to embrace her. He didn't even think about it, he just hugged her and tried to comfort her in a better way than with words. Spencer felt that words were a good way to comfort, but right now he needed the feeling that Elle was safe in his arms. The feeling that she wasn't going to leave and stay alone in her house thinking about leaving for the best of it. She didn't say in words that she had done this before, but he knew it was true. He had done it before, too. And they were so much alike that he could sense that his hunch was right. Elle didn't immediately respond to the hug, but just seconds after she felt him hugging her, she couldn’t resist the urge to feel him too. Her hands ran carefully over his upper back as she breathed in his scent, a mixture of black coffee and wood. It was so comforting, it felt like home. Not her house, but home, like going back to New York City after so many years. 

Spencer ran his hands briefly through her short hair after she released the hug; he wanted more, he felt so comfortable with her touch that he craved more. Every time he felt her close to him, he didn't care about the rest of the world, he didn't care if the end was coming or if everyone was up to something, he only cared about Elle. More than anything, he wanted her to be well. In fact, he needed her to be well. Despite that, Spencer didn't expect her to be fine. How could she? How could Elle be fine after everything that had happened?

“You're incredible, Elle. Don't let anything convince you otherwise.” He said, looking into her eyes again. It was a mesmerizing sight, Elle’s eyes. “Please.” Reid added with an almost stupid face, he liked her so much it was painful.

Elle didn't say anything, she just hugged him again because she wanted that feeling once more. Spencer never wanted nothing from her. It was a strange feeling when someone didn't always want 100% from you. All those things he said, not only today, but everytime she needed, – sometimes even when she didn't need it – Elle had never felt so loved. She trusted him so much. Every time she felt insane, Reid’s voice was in her head, whispering sweet nothings to her.

“I think I'm just too soft for all of this.” She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Spencer pressed her against his body and sighed as he lightly stroked her back.

Spencer wanted to tell her how much he liked her, how much he loved her, despite what anyone said to her, being soft in this job wasn’t a flaw, it was actually a virtue. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She knew it, Elle knew it. It was their sweet nothings.

[luuvprincess]

COMING SOON♣️❤️

Characters

Justice Perrison

Victor Tan

And everyone else from Swat

Background to the story:

Background story: Alyson was 20 years old when they had first meet and Tan had  just joined vice and was working a case and he disobeyed the chief orders and Aylson interfered having her own issues with her father and that day everything was history.

Prologue

“You still think I follow daddy’s rules?” She asked breaking the kiss him as they tussled in back seat of her car just couple blocks away from the station. He didn’t answer aggressively grabbing her face smashing his lips on hers ignoring her question.

He started kissing down her body down he tights. He looks up at her for permission. She nods her head as she lifted her hips up a bit he pulled her tights down no hesitation. He kissed her soaking core threw her hot pink cotton laced thongs and started kissing on her inner thigh teasing her ever so lightly. He knew how she gets when he would tease her.

“Victor pleaseee.” She begged. He stopped and chuckled. He spreaded her legs opened and pulled her pants up her legs pushing her legs to her chest.

“I love how easy it is for me to get you this wet baby.” He said as he brushed his finger down her moist fold. She let out a low whimper very sensitive to his touch.

She let out a distinct moan as his tongue began twirling on her Clint. “Fuck Vic.” She moaned throwing her head enjoying the pleasure she was receiving. She always loved the way he eat her pussy.

It was one of the few reasons she couldn’t leave him alone and simply because she really didn’t care for what her father had to say about her messing with one of his employees it was her life and her decision not his. Plus they we’re always butting heads they were both hot heads and never cared for anyone’s opinions.

“You sound so beautiful moaning my name Jazmine ” He said as he pulls back rubbing her Clint with his thumb. He entered his two index and middle finger in her core causing her to moan out louder.

“Fuck baby I’m close keep going.” She moaned. He leaned forward kissing her on lips. She moaned into his moan tasting herself on his lips. He fingers continued to thrust as steady paste. “Ohh fuck I’m gonna cum fuck I’m so close Vic.” She said letting a soft moan our after.

“Cum on my fingers pretty girl.” He said as he leaned down kissing her fold. He fingers still thrusting as he also ate her out. Doing all that just brought her over the edge. She did a lot more the cum he continued finger fucking her through her orgasm. He licked her clean leaving no juice behind. He pulled her fix’s herself before he pulls her on his lap as the started having heated make out session.

“Dispatch to Office Tan what’s your location?” The dispatch assistant says over his radio. Causing the two break the kiss . “Dispatch to office Tan what’s your location?” Tan leans forward with Ally still in his lap grabbing the radio.

“This officer Tan I’m on lunch what’s sup?” He asked.

“There’s a call coming by your your location the caller says they heard some yelling and just want someone to check it out can you go check it out?” The dispatcher asks.

“Yea sure.” He tells them the. Puts the radio down. He looks back at the girl on his lap as she had a pouty look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he lifted her chin.

“We weren’t didn’t finish.” She said. He laughed kissing her.

“We can finish after my shift I’ll come over just as long as you stay up and wait.” He said. She smiled kissing him again.

“As long you come back in one piece then we got a deal.” She said.

“Put your pants back on so I could go.” He said. She put her pants back on. They got out the car after she got herself together.

“Are you really gonna come by after your shift?” She asked as she through her arms around his shoulders. He puts his hands on her waist.

“Yes I’ll be there tonight after my shift.” He said.

“Okay be safe. Like I said we weren’t finish.” She said. He chuckled as kissing her forehead. After they said their goodbyes Victor went to go so the check up and she went home to go clean up. She took a shower got dressed and grabbed her some whine and sent a picture to let her man know she’d be waiting for him.

My Darling 💋

I’ll be waiting for you my love 😘

I just want to let yall know there’s probably gonna be some smutty chapters. None of these gif are mines just were clear I came with this storyline thought it would be fun to write I hope y’all enjoy make sure y’all follow me @luuvprincess on Wattpad I might publish this on there as well.

Words: 785

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

The Economic Difference Between The Miner and Mine Owner's Daughter

Chapter Three

Based of this ask (the dialogue from there is used here)

Rated Explicit | Warning: period typical sexism, noncon, non-Consensual somnophilia

Ao3

Taglist: @anastasiablossomlove @tfamidoingwithmylife

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

“Finish her off, Norton.”

When he first saw you, he wished you were dead. Just another rich kid with pockets lined with daddy's money. Your fucking suitor laughing as Norton was getting jumped for his lunch. Sickening, the misery of the poor is entertainment for people like you! Laughing as they fight for table scraps, as the poor are willing to do anything to just have a warm bed to sleep on, speaking on behalf of the poor yet none of them ever struggled!

Every day is a fight. Every night is a fight. The moment he was born, his fate was sealed in the black ink signature of your father's name. Norton had no chance, your father stole that from him!

What? Do you think a few shared meals would make him suddenly think differently of you? Ha, no, he meant what he said back then. If things worked his way, you would be on your knees sucking him off while your father grieved seeing his daughter sell herself for his survival.

The nerve you have to spit out that nonsense about change, hah, politicians say anything for some votes. Everyone knows the corporations won't let them actually change things. Too many hands have been greased to change the status quo. 

Nah, the only change he cares about is whether or not he will get out of this debt his father cursed him with by striking it big.

Damn, bastards! Damn all of them to hell and back!

It would be no surprise if they do not find any gold, they use him as a scapegoat. Quick to take the credit, quick to throw to the wolves. Your father will soon be like all the others.

Buried alive. At least in death, everyone is made equal.

Norton’s hands squeezing your throat, a grin on his face seeing you struggle to breathe.

Until your hand touches the scar, soft and gentle, he can see the tears running down the side of your face. Your voice cracks as you beg him to snap out of 

“Norton~,” The purr of the voice in his voice feeds into his anger, “She's right there. Just get rid of her!” Yelling at him.

It will be quick, a snap and all of it will be over.

Yet, he finds himself thinking about the bread you made for him. Yes, it was for him as a gift. Warm, moist, and fresh; all for him with a cup of warm tea.

Your father… You are not like him. Like others who laugh and look down at him, you honestly want to help. Stupid girl, truly, big dreams with no idea how reality works or how this world will chew someone and spit them out.

No good person lives long enough to see the change they fought for happen.

He flinches, you cup the side of his face, “Fight it.” Desperately trying to call out to him. “Please, Norton.”

“Come on, Norton.” Exaggerating the word ‘on’, dragging it out as if bored. “You have an arrogant little flower under you.”

When you approached him, you referred to him as ‘Mr. Campbell’ as if you respected him. It felt like a joke, an insult as you could—should—have been like everyone else. Constantly fighting, struggling, hyper-aware, plotting. He glares down at you, grabbing your hand and slamming it hard on the ground while making sure to have a painful grip on your wrist.

The pained sound you make is music to his ears, the wicked grin on his face growing with 

The rise and fall of your chest makes him very aware of your breasts covered by the blouse. Whenever he sees you around the worksite, you look… Normal. No showy dress, no lace fan (the one you did have you broke), hell, everyone saw you only wear pants. 

But here, right before the end, you are wearing a dress. The sort of dress one wears in the winter, a bright color that greatly contrasts with the current environment.

“Why don't you show this selfish delicate flower how to behave… Hm?” Dragging out the last few syllables as if moaning with excitement.

You have the nerve to smell good too, clean and sweet like a ripe freshly washed fruit.

The fight for air is a struggle he knows you cannot win. Watching your eyes roll back, the small fading gasps for air, and soon your struggling becomes weaker and weaker.

“Nortoooon,” The voice rings in his mind echoing in his own voice, “.... Come on now….” The voice draws him back seeing your life fade by his hand.

Slip you into unconsciousness. Body going slump on the ground, you look peaceful now.

Did he kill you?! Shit, shit, fuck! He shakes you then places his hand over your chest, a sigh of relief as he hears your heartbeat. The twisted thoughts in his mind raced between needing to escape and… And… Your perfume is sweet. Your clothes are so clean. You are like an angel sent from above into this dark hellhole.

The first button is the hardest, his hands are unsteady.

The second button is easier but still hard, the voice tells him to take; after all, your father took everything from him too.

The third button reveals part of your chemise, plain which he supposes he should have expected to not look like one the other miners talk about after a venture into a pleasure den.

The fourth button and the voice is getting angry, yelling at him again to hurry. Norton swears he can feel something moving his arms without him doing anything.

The other buttons are ripped open, his face buried in your neck as he sharply inhales, it is so different from his own skin. Soft, bathed, unmarked.

“Bite. Mark her.”

It speaks and he does it. Each touch of his chapped lips on your flawless skin is marked by his teeth. Some barely barely a mark while others are deep enough to leave dark bruising, those are above your breasts. Your clothes are cumbersome and it is more work to try to remove your clothes in a civilized way rather than ripping them open, but that is what he does.

The personality switch is not instant, it is through the actions he would have never done if not for this damn cave. He was the ripe fruit plucked and feasted upon, his mind slowly corrupted by the abyss he was forced to dig through.

“Fuckin’ hate you wearing these.” The voice is darker, laced with greed and lust, he tears open your bloomers as if it was made of paper. A mess of your clothes half torn and his buckle that decides to be a pain in the ass, not like he can stop himself.

The only moment he stops is when he growls at himself for not knowing what to do, of fucking course he knows the layout of what to do but the fine detail escape him. Worse, the guilt in the back of him is fighting himself right now. Fighting enough that he has to remove a glove, spit on his hand, and jerk himself off.

“Damn you,” Touching your legs, his black dust-covered glove marking your skin, he finds it rather hotter than the bitemarks all over your neck. When he kisses you, oh you taste like something sweet too, he has to stop to cough out his damn lungs. “When I am done with you, you won’t even know how ruined you are going to be.” Exasperated and angry.

When he is hard enough to thrust inside of you, he swears he saw stars. Bliss but you are so tight. Dry too but this is not about you. The scent of blood makes him laugh as you just lost your virginity in a damn coal mine--Blood for blood, justice.

Each thrust is hard because he hates leaving your heat. Your body reacts to him by getting wet, your moans in your current state are low,  his pace is awkward and selfish. This whole situation is selfish. Grabbing everything he can touch about you, kissing you when he needs a taste of you. When he feels himself about to cum, he makes sure it is all over the floor with your blood.

The whole activity was tiring.

The voice is in control, pleased but annoyed as he now has to figure out what to do next. Kill you with the others or… He raises an eyebrow at a bright idea.