#i love heeeer <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[dutifullylazybread]

I commissioned the incredibly talented @slumpsnail to draw my Tav!! And I love everything about her!! 🥹

Thank you again, Snail!! She looks gorgeous!

If you haven't had the chance, take a look at Snail's gorgeous art and definitely consider commissioning them!!

[kurj]

my minoan OC - based on The Dancer fresco <3 more of my minoan art -> click

[bumbleberrybee]

Grand Festival Frye to practice drawing on my new PC! ✨

[bumblingbabooshka]

I hate when Chakotay is watered down to be Janeway's yes man because their disagreements are actually very interesting. [A lot of rambling analysis of this debate in particular below]

Chakotay in Parallax is very interesting in that he has to navigate a lot of different dynamics. Balance a lot of plates while being watched keenly by everyone around him. Immediately preceding this scene we see him ask B'Elanna for her opinion on the bridge - both as a chance to show her knowledge in his bid to make her chief engineer (because she wouldn't get a chance to otherwise as Janeway has clearly indicated that at this point she views B'Elanna as a troublemaker who won't be considered for the position) and because he just thinks she's a better engineer than Carey and wants the best possible chance of them succeeding. Janeway sees this as unacceptable. Carey is the chief engineer and so he should be called and Chakotay NOT asking for his opinion is an insult to Carey, Janeway, and might make the crew doubt Chakotay (and by extension the Maquis') loyalty to the Starfleet crew.

At this point it seems that to Janeway integration ["They're not your people"] means the path of least resistance, specifically tailored towards the Starfleet crew. She wants Chakotay by her side to keep the Maquis crew calm but also seems unwilling to consider them for important positions aboard the ship. Though she says that the Maquis are not Chakotay's people, not his crew, she certainly doesn't seem to consider them hers [Compare this to later instances where she stresses 'our' crew, here she simply says they aren't Chakotay's: Whose crew are they? Are they crew at all?]. This less leaves the impression of "We need to be a cohesive team" and more "You're not in charge here." She essentially accuses Chakotay of playing favorites. In her mind Chakotay's actions are not conducive to integrating the crews which would (again, in her mind) mean the Maquis being docile and accepting, obedient and content - not making trouble for the Starfleet crew. Chakotay counters Janeway's accusation with one of his own: That he IS trying to integrate them into the crew but her not allowing the Maquis any opportunity to prove themselves or succeed, not showing any trust in any of them (except, implicitly at this point, him) is making things difficult. At this point the Maquis crew are ready to mutiny on his word at any time. He knows this for a fact. Aside from that looming threat (the threat being that tensions are high and if nothing changes and they remain high there might be a mutiny even without his word) - Chakotay knows these people and trusts them. Though Starfleet and Janeway think of the Maquis as a violent bunch of criminal terrorists, Chakotay and a good number of the Maquis joined because they believed in the cause they were fighting for. These are people Chakotay knows WILL fight fiercely for what they believe in and conversely, AGAINST what they perceive as injustice. Even if they're not in the majority - they're used to picking fights which seem impossible to win. At this point Janeway admits that she ISN'T making it easy for Chakotay to integrate the Maquis - specifically talking about practical concerns; how she doesn't feel she can let Maquis crew have roles of importance on the ship because they lack the ability to hold them. "They don't have the discipline, they don't have the training," - asserting that they just aren't prepared for any such roles and it doesn't have to do with them being Maquis specifically. Ostensibly, she's treating them as she might treat anyone unqualified for the job.

Chakotay maintains that some of them, like B'Elanna, have the ability to be trained - challenging her point by saying that IF they're trained there's no reason for any Maquis member NOT to be given a more prominent role on the ship. He isn't suggesting they just unqualified people important jobs. If the problem is that they aren't trained, let's train them. These people have the ability to succeed if you give them the tools they need and a fair chance, he insists. Janeway then switches gears and her argument becomes not "The Maquis are untrained so they can't be given those jobs" but "The Maquis crew are unworthy of those jobs when compared to Starfleet personnel" saying that it'll cause insult and upset among the Starfleet crew if any member of the Maquis were to be promoted above them. Again, her idea of integration is based more on Maquis subservience to the Starfleet crew than it is the two crews working together. (Not that I believe she looks at it that way, it's just where her 'path of least resistance' leads) - though she accuses Chakotay of being too focused on "his" crew, she is admitting here that she believes her real crew are the Starfleet officers aboard, not the Maquis. She also admits here that the system she wishes to maintain (and is asking Chakotay to enforce) is one where there will ostensibly never be any chance of a Maquis crew member being promoted because no Maquis crew member will ever be more qualified, more worthy, than a member of Starfleet. We can see how it'd be difficult for Chakotay to convince his crew to remain calm under these circumstances. There's also Tuvok's behavior toward him at the beginning of the episode where the Vulcan nearly goes over Chakotay's head and when he doesn't do so (as Chakotay reminds him that HE'S the superior officer, the First Officer in fact,) Tuvok acts as if him backing down (partially) and conceding (partially) to Chakotay's authority is a favor to Chakotay.

Tuvok in this conversation is downright insubordinate to Chakotay. Despite Chakotay being the first officer, he doesn't take what he says seriously, argues that his own opinion on what should be done should be followed rather than Chakotay's, lectures the first officer about his conduct, and then almost seems to threaten him with a report. In Starfleet's rigidly hierarchical rules, acting like this to a superior officer (ESPECIALLY the first officer) wouldn't be tolerated and Tuvok knows this perfectly well. He isn't a rebellious character and clearly in other episodes adheres to these Starfleet hierarchies and codes of conduct very strictly. He values them highly. But Chakotay, a Maquis, shouldn't be First Officer. Why should he be given respect for a title he didn't earn? [Affirming Janeway's argument about how Starfleet officers won't be eager to follow a Maquis senior officer] Even though Chakotay tells Tuvok off for it ["I don't have to explain myself to you"] he doesn't threaten to put Tuvok on report or explicitly mention his insubordination. It's unclear if this is Chakotay's personality or if he just doesn't feel he CAN do that. Tuvok is one of the three most senior officers aboard and very close to Janeway. Chakotay has to think of the optics of any situation at all times - we see seconds after this conversation that rumors have already started swirling around B'Elanna being relegated to quarters that've fanned the flames of mutiny. Though we know Tuvok has personal reasons for behaving the way he does toward Chakotay (which he later admits), I really don't think it'd be out of the ordinary for this to be how most Starfleet personnel would treat the Maquis if they weren't outright hostile: Like they're only pretend crewmen. To a lesser extent we even see this with Janeway: In the following staff meeting, she clearly doesn't consider B'Elanna a viable option when Chakotay brings her up and almost ignores the suggestion entirely.

It also, again, leaves Chakotay in an impossible position. If he doesn't protect and fight for the Maquis crew, they won't ever be considered a true part of the crew and dissatisfaction will likely spread among them. Dissatisfaction which the Starfleet crew will then use to further label the Maquis as insubordinate, uncontrollable, unfit. Not to mention that if he doesn't advocate for them, he might lose their trust. However, if he DOES try to help the Maquis crew advance the Starfleet crew will view this as 'favoritism' and will further distrust him, won't respect the people he puts forth as worthy. Janeway seems to be intent on not advocating for any of the Maquis crew and also seems unwilling to ask that the Starfleet crew grant leniency. She implies that the Maquis crew need to learn to get in line and keep quiet and it seems almost like [we must remember the optics] she has Chakotay as the only Maquis in a position of power to facilitate that. Chakotay recognizes and pushes against that, saying that he won't just be her token Maquis - there only so she can point to him and say "See? We don't discriminate against the Maquis here." effectively a tool used to shut down any arguments of unfair treatment and a tool to quell the Maquis if any talk of mutiny DOES arise. In this model, Janeway can just tell Chakotay to calm them down and they'll listen because they trust him. She also doesn't have to really listen to anything he says: A token First Officer has no authority; his words don't hold weight. [Chakotay isn't Maquis anymore, they aren't his crew anymore - ok. What is he then? What are they? Nothing, without respect.] This plan seems untenable, as much as Janeway frames it as sensible: "I can't make it easy, Commander. Surely you can understand that," and alternatives as impossible "How am I supposed to ask them to accept a Maquis as their superior officer just because circumstances have forced us together?" - in the long run, how would this be sustainable? In any power structure, you cannot expect a group of people you're unwilling to grant trust or agency to obediently follow you forever. This proposed form of 'integration' in which the Maquis are kept on the bottom rung and told intermittently to stay there quietly by the only one of them granted permission to stand at the top would never be sustainable - especially with a group like the Maquis who again, were founded on the belief that its members should fight against inequity and are already on the verge of mutiny.

I specifically find the statement "How am I supposed to ask them to accept a Maquis as their superior officer just because circumstances have forced us together?" to be interesting because personally I'd say that being forced together for the rest of almost everyone's natural life is a pretty good reason to ask people to adapt and Janeway does understand this but only applies it to the Maquis - the Maquis are the ones who have to adapt, not Starfleet. The only thing the Starfleet crew have to do is tolerate their presence on board.

At this point Janeway again claims that if Chakotay can show her a 'qualified' Maquis candidate she'll consider them. I believe this is true but we already know that Janeway's standards for qualification will likely not fit the vast majority of the Maquis and Chakotay ignores the claim in favor of putting forth B'Elanna again, firmly. Janeway predictably dismisses her as unqualified and Chakotay disagrees, arguing that he knows her. He's worked with her. He KNOWS that B'Elanna can excel at the job even if she doesn't meet Starfleet/Janeway's qualifications. He doesn't value those qualifications over what he's observed about her - just as he didn't value Carey's title over what he knew about the gap between his and B'Elanna's abilities. Then, Chakotay switches gears. He admits that Janeway's right - he does view the Maquis as his crew but that's because Janeway (almost self admittingly) doesn't and if he doesn't, who will they have? [What kind of captain, kind of man, would he be?] "You're going to have to give them more authority if you want their loyalty." "Theirs or yours, Commander?" Janeway frames Chakotay's words pointing out the flaws in this plan which I outlined earlier, as almost a threat (if she doesn't have Chakotay's loyalty it'll most definitely mean mutiny). Chakotay asserts that it wasn't a threat, he's only trying to help by telling her how the Maquis crew will react to what she's telling him. "I'm sorry you can't see that" - not an apology for what he said but that she isn't willing to budge, not willing to listen to him and acknowledge that she might be as biased towards her crew as he is towards his. Chakotay is trying his best to acclimate his crew but if Janeway isn't willing to do the same, to talk to her people as he's talking to his, then this will not end well and that isn't a threat. It's just the reality of the situation. He then asks permission to leave, showing he is willing to observe Starfleet protocol (just as when he asked permission to speak freely), and Janeway lets him go, exhaling at the intensity of their debate when alone in her ready room.

[pocket-ghostie]

Surprise alive Lilly design!!! My baby <3 She is so small and so cute <3

Ive been thinking about ghost story lately (thanks to a graphic novel I read 2 days ago) and that naturally got me thinking about my baby <3

[ladyluthien]

so I caved and bought BG3 a week or so ago

and thirty hours later I have Thoughts, particularly about Lae'zel, and unfortunately for tumblr the people in the discord server I'd normally dump these thoughts in haven't progressed as far as I have, and if you want meta about a fictional woman you often have to write it yourself, SO: spoilers for Lae'zel's questline towards the end of act 1 under the cut

I just finished the scene where the rebel githyanki come to convince Lae'zel to help them overthrow Vlaakith, and I think it's really interesting how Lae'zel responds to them. We know she's a soldier, and we know she's a true believer. Between the parasite removal failing and Vlaakith turning on her, that faith is really shaken, which leaves her more or less without a cause - and then one materializes for her.

The way she talks about overthrowing Vlaakith right after her realization is just. she's spent so long fiendishly devoted to a Cause and when that one doesn't live up to her ideals, she's almost - relieved? - to have another one. It really gives the vibe that she doesn't know who she is without a cause to fight for. Lae'zel without a capital-P purpose probably doesn't make much sense to her. The whole plot, the parasite - it's an inconvenience getting in the way of what she's actually supposed to be doing.

Anyway, she's my wife romance and my tiefling was enjoying the no-strings-attached, no-feelings-involved sex and then saw the single egg sitting in the creche and had a vision of Lae'zel laughing and playing with a baby githyanki, teaching them battle moves, and went "...oh no".

[lunarcry]

THE DINOSAAAUUURRRRRR????????????

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

also, make sure to get your last requests in if you have any!!

I’ll be closing the askbox tomorrow morning, and since I’ve got so many requests, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to open it again

it’ll be open for the rest of today and then tomorrow I’ll close it to work on this batch of requests! but since there are over double as many as I typically have, it will almost certainly take me longer to do them all, sooooo... it may be a while before I open it up again

toss your last bonuses into the askbox or hold your piece till next time! <3

[keeps-ache]

i love genres!! i do not know what they are but they're cool !!

[potatoplace]

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Starfall means dress shopping, and dress shopping means spending time with Nesta and Elain... the celebration is its own set of challenges that you struggle with.

Warnings: Body shaming, toxic family, slight disordered eating, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: ~9.2k

Author's Note: it's heeeere I didn't get quite as far into the story as I wanted, but this was a good cut off point too. I really hope you guys like this one! I don't think I made it quite angsty enough, but there's still some. Plus a lil fluff to start. Enjoy! p.s. let me know who you think Y/N will end up with! Or anything else you have to say 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your dreams were soft and fuzzy, filled with hazy scenes of you laying in bed and cuddling with your sisters, just like you had every night so long ago.

Waking felt similar, your body cocooned by soft blankets and warm arms, your own wrapped around someone's torso. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

Mor's face was laying on the pillow in front of you, still relaxed with sleep. She looked even prettier like this, without stress and her busy schedule hanging over her.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her, taking care to not wake her. She deserved the extra sleep, with how much time she was going to be spending in the Hewn City through the end of the year.

You rolled onto your back, Mor's arms tightening around you as you did. It felt nice, being held again. In the past two years, you had forgotten how lovely it was to wake up feeling safe, snuggled up with your sisters.

The sound of Mor's soft, even breaths nearly lulled you asleep, before your eyes flew open.

Shoot! You had forgotten Nuala and Cerridwen's Solstice presents...

Mor's arms were gently pried from your body, which was harder to do than you had anticipated, but you managed without waking her.

You pulled on a dressing gown and quietly grabbed the two bags containing their presents. Your bedroom door snicked shut behind you, and you padded down the hallway, down the stairs, and to their bedroom. One knock had the door swinging open, this time greeted by Cerridwen.

"Y/N? Did you need something?" The wraith asked, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the presents in your hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do that, Y/N," she said, letting you into their room.

"But I wanted to, both of you have been so wonderful to me. And I already got them for you, so you have to open them," you insisted, placing each bag in their new owner's hands.

Nuala shook her head but opened her present anyways, a wide smile overtaking her face. "This is wonderful Y/N! Oh and you even got me metal threads, how did you know?!" The wraith embraced you tightly in her arms.

"And you remembered me complaining about my needles, oh mother, Y/N, you are the most thoughtful person!" Cerrdiwen exclaimed, stealing you from her sister's arms. "You will be the first person I make something for," she said after she loosened her hold on you.

"You don't need to do that..."

Cerridwen looked at you sharply. "Yes I do, and I will. Would you prefer a hat or scarf first? Oh, I'll just make you both," she finished, not giving you time to answer.

"Thank you in advance, I suppose," you said, blush dusting your cheeks. "I'm glad both of you liked your gifts."

"Of course we do! You pay so much attention to what you buy for people, it's so sweet," Nuala said kindly.

A heavier blush rose to your cheeks at their sweet words. "I just like to make people happy. Speaking of which, I should get back to Mor-"

"Back to me? But I'm right here!" Mor said brightly from behind you, causing you to jump in shock. "Sorry, Y/N, did I scare you?" Mor's arms wrapped around you from behind. "You left me, so I came down to find you. Want to do breakfast before everyone returns?"

You nodded in agreement, but turned your eyes to the twins. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," Nuala said, and Cerridwen nodded her head before replying the same.

"Girls' breakfast! Let's go!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you out of the twins' room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The twins trailed behind at a less excited pace, and met the two of you in the kitchen as Mor was pulling food out of the cold box. Bacon, sausages, eggs, broccoli, and cheese were taken out, and the four of you began making breakfast- most likely too much food for the four of you, but Mor insisted that once Cassian had returned he would eat any food that was left over.

You provided the tea, rushing upstairs to pick out an orange and ginger tea.

Breakfast with the three of them was lovely, only kind words and soft smiles being exchanged between you. It was much more peaceful than most of the meals you had taken at the dining table, and for that you were grateful.

Your sisters, their mates, and Azriel returned while the four of you were still gathered round the table, talking over the last of the second pot of tea you'd made.

"Good morning, ladies," Rhys said as he slipped into one of the chairs, pulling a glowing Feyre into his lap a moment later. "Did you have a good breakfast?"

You nodded in response, but it was Mor who spoke. "Yes, in a team effort we made far too much food. What about you lot?"

"It was good, but there wasn't enough," Cassian complained as he sat down, plucking a piece of bacon off of a plate. You smiled at his antics, you'd always found it funny how the male never seemed to be truly full.

"There's never enough for you, Cass," Nesta said as she took the seat next to him- directly across from you- and glared hard enough at you that the small smile on your face fell off in an instant.

"That's true, even though he devoured all of the sweets you gave him, Y/N, he was asking for more the moment they were gone," Lucien laughed as he did the same as Rhys, pulling Elain into his lap in the chair next to yours.

Fear clutched at your heart, though you knew it shouldn't. But the thought of Cassian enjoying the sweets you had made so much that he asked for more... You were scared of how Nesta might retaliate this time.

You tried to keep your breathing even as the conversation passed from one ear to the other, no words registering as they spoke.

"Y/N?" Feyre's soft voice broke through, pulling you out of your worried heart and back into the moment. "You're still up to go dress shopping with us tomorrow, right?"

Your eyes flicked up to her, then to her mate behind her who had a stern look on his face. You forced your eyes back to her slightly worried ones, focusing on the gentle blue that you'd known your whole life. "Uhm... Yes, I am," you managed to respond once you had played the question over in your head.

"Good! We were all thinking that noon would be a fine time to leave, that way the three of us can sleep in a bit after the revel tonight. Does that sound good to you?"

You could feel Nesta's burning gaze and Elain's judgemental eyes on you, stoking the fire of your fear.

"That sounds fine to me, Feyre," you replied, fingers working nervously over the painted irises on your teacup, focusing on the tiny ridges that the paint had created, your gaze now trained on them.

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

"Perfect! Now that that's settled, I think we should all get to perfecting the revel for tonight," Feyre said, causing movement from all around the table.

Except you.

You sat, staring at your teacup until everyone was gone, disappeared off to their rooms or offices, or wherever they needed to be.

That left you to clear the plates, quickly washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the rack. Your teapot was dried by hand, and filled with tea leaves and hot water once more. Thankfully you were able to retreat to your room without question, letting you escape back into your fantasy world you had created in your mind. Away from Nesta and Elain's combined ire, combined disdain for your very existence.

The lovely jasmine tea Azriel had gifted you helped you forget where you were, nearly convincing yourself you were back in the human lands, sipping tea in the living room with your father as you watched snow fall and bury that tiny little shack, falling asleep to the thought of it in your arm chair.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The next morning, you forced yourself from the arm chair, stretching out your neck as you did.

Somehow, it was less comfortable than sleeping in the bathtub.

Your soreness abated as you slid into steaming water, bubbling with rose scented soap- something that you were absolutely delighted by, loving that no matter what, your body was completely covered by bubbles. You hardly caught sight of your skin at all, though you knew with the day's plans, you would be forced to confront how your body had changed.

You could feel it, every now and then. The way your bones protruded just a bit more than they had a month ago. How your joints got sore from sitting or laying faster than before. How pale you had become compared to this time last year, when you had a slight glow to your skin.

This year, you were pasty. As though you had been locked away from the sun the entire time.

A sigh left your lips as you finished your skincare, the one act of kindness to yourself that you always made time for.

Your body didn't matter. It's not as though you would find someone in Prythian. After all, fae and humans shouldn't mix...

Feyre had said something similar to you, so long ago about your past crush on Cassian.

Thankfully in that time, only one person had caught your eye... And you were certain that Irina would never stoop so low as to date you of all people.

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

No, you were here to be alone. Mor and Feyre had begun trying to engage with you, for that you were grateful. They were keeping you from losing all hope once more, and it was all you could do to keep that flame alive.

Especially knowing that your own issues with your body would be added to by whatever Nesta and Elain deigned to say to you. Feyre may have told them to behave, but that wouldn't stop them from throwing barbs at you, thinly veiled by concern or 'opinion.'

Your cycle had finished the night before, leaving you tired but free of its scent, which you were overly thankful for. Mor's present was very nice, but you did not want to try the underwear out while dress shopping with your sisters.

You forced yourself to get dressed and headed out of your room, noting the time on the clock in the hallway. Half past eleven.

That should be enough time for a pot of tea, maybe taken in the kitchen? Or should you retreat to your room...?

You turned around and headed back to your room for a packet of tea leaves, this one a plain green tea. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs, ears listening for any sign of life.

Perhaps they were all asleep still, exhausted from the revel the night before.

The kitchen was empty when you entered it, and you quickly set to making your tea. A few minutes later you were sat at the island in the kitchen, a cushioned stool beneath you. The tea was lovely and calming, it's clean, slightly sea scented aroma perfect for clearing your head.

That was until Nesta and Elain sauntered in, already talking about what dress styles and colors they were hoping to find today. Their conversation didn't stop once as they walked straight past you and into the living room, the only evidence of them noticing you was the feeling of their eyes on your back.

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

Feyre walked in a minute later, rushing over to you once she saw you seated at the island. "How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. How are you, Fey? How's the baby?"

"Oh I'm just fine, baby was being a little fussy earlier but they're all settled now. Are you ready to leave?"

You finished the rest of your tea in a few quick gulps, enjoying the feeling of warmth it brought, and stood from your stool. "I just need to wash this, and then I'm ready," you said, already making your way to the kitchen sink. That was done in a flash, and soon Feyre was ushering the three of you out the door, Nesta and Elain immediately locking arms and taking the lead. You and Feyre trailed after them, your own arms locked together after Feyre forced her elbow around yours, smiling at you when you looked at her.

All too soon, you arrived at the dress store in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, greeted by the owner, Tarin.

"Ah, the High Lady and her sisters! This is a lucky day for me, that's for sure," Tarin exclaimed as she approached Feyre, clasping their hands together. "What can I help the four of you with?"

"We're looking for dresses for Starfall, I know we're cutting it a bit close-"

"Oh, nonsense! For the High Lady, even the day of Starfall is not too close. Please, look around and pick out what interests you, we can have them altered if need be," Tarin said, waving her arms at the racks upon racks of dresses filling the shop. "I can also have them made up in different colors, and with any variations of fabrics you may like. Any way I can please you, my dears, and I am happy to do it."

Nesta and Elain set into the sea of fabric together, keeping close to each other as they picked through the racks. You stayed near Feyre, feeling wildly out of your depth.

Shopping for Solstice was one thing, it was shopping for those you cared for. But this...

This was shopping for yourself, and you struggled more with that. Buying the hairpin that you currently had twisted in your hair was a rare action, and one of the first non-practical purchase you had made for yourself since coming to Velaris.

"How about this one?" Feyre asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as she waved a dark purple dress in front of you, it's long sleeves waving as she did so.

"It's pretty," you said absentmindedly, staring at the way the fabric shimmered in the light.

"Do you want to try it on?"

Your eyes snapped up to Feyre's. "Me?"

Feyre laughed softly. "Yes, you. The cut is similar to dresses you've worn before, and you like purple, right?"

You looked back down at the dress, taking in the modest bodice and neckline, and the long length of the dress. "I like the design, but I think I'd prefer a lighter color, Fey," you said politely, but grabbed the dress anyway. "I'll try it on, though."

"That sounds fine, we could always get it made in a lilac color if you'd like," Feyre suggested, her hands already moving over more dresses. "You can go put that at the dressing rooms, then come back and look for more, okay?"

You nodded and did as she suggested, returning to her side and half-heartedly looking over the dresses hung in front of you.

Many of them were far too revealing for your comfort, with low necklines and slits up the thigh. You did find a few you thought Feyre may like, gowns that reminded you of the shimmering night sky, and showed them to her when you happened across them.

"Oh, I love this one," Feyre gushed when she saw one you had handed her, this one a dark blue silk with a smattering of silver stars embroidered across the chest and stomach, with a sweetheart neckline. The length of the dress would like reach her mid thigh, and hang just slightly on the tiny bump that was forming on Feyre's stomach. "What do you think?" She asked, holding the dress up to her body. "High Lady of Night enough?"

Even held against her body, the dress looked perfect for her. "Definitely. You should try it on, Fey," you suggested.

"Hmm... I think I will, Y/N. Are you ready to try yours on? I think we've both got a decent number," Feyre said, slowly walking with you to the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were located.

"I am, I think," you replied, though you were unsure of being anywhere within a ten foot radius of Nesta. Especially if she couldn't find a dress she liked...

Thankfully at the moment, Nesta and Elain were both in their own dressing rooms, trying on whichever ones they had picked out.

You and Feyre entered your own curtained room, the dresses that you had picked out hung on the hooks inside.

A quiet sigh, and you set to undressing yourself. There was no mirror in here, likely to force people out to get recommendations from their friends. The purple dress that Feyre had found was the first you tried on, the soft fabric flowing down your body like water.

It clung too much.

That was your first impression of the dress, even with the modest neckline and hem length. The soft fabric seemed to be molded to your body, and even a cursory feel of your hands over your hips had you wishing you had rejected Feyre's offer to go shopping. You did not want to hear what Nesta would say about the slight show of your bones in the dress.

"Y/N, are you almost done? We're waiting for you," Feyre said softly from the other side of the curtain, and you forced yourself out of the dressing room. "Oh, you look lovely! I think the color looks nice on you," Feyre said kindly, even as her eyes lingered over the sharp edges of your shoulders, the noticeable bump of your hip bones.

"Do you eat?" Nesta asked sharply from across the room, her nose wrinkled as she took you in. "You look like you're still living in poverty, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks at her words. They were true, though. "I eat. I've just been..." you paused, trying to find a word that wouldn't irritate your sister. "Stressed."

Nesta scoffed, but shut her mouth at a stern look from Feyre.

"The color is nice, Y/N," Elain said weakly. You forced a smile in her direction.

"Thank you, Elain. Your dress is lovely, green is a wonderful color on you," you said, taking in the flowing layers of fabric that made up the skirt of the dress, all in varying shades of dark green.

"Thank you," Elain replied, but moved her gaze to Nesta. "Nes, your dress is gorgeous. I think you should stick with that one, no need to look for others. You look perfect," Elain said excitedly, so different from her reaction to you.

You tried not to let it sting, turning instead to Feyre. She was clad in a floor length dress in black, tiny diamonds sewn on in patterns that you thought were constellations. There was a slit up to her mid thigh on both sides, allowing her to move freely. "This one is beautiful Fey, you look stunning!"

"You think? I still want to try on that last one you picked out, but I really like this one," Feyre said. "Oh, and I may have put an extra dress in your dressing room, please just try it on, I think you'll really like it. It's the pink one on the left hand side. Just, try it," Feyre begged you softly before returning to her dressing room, Nesta and Elain already back in their own.

Your mouth set into a line, you entered the curtained room again. As she said, there was a glittering pink gown hung on the left hand side when you walked in. Your mouth fell into a frown at the neckline.

Entirely too scandalous for you.

But still, you forced yourself to shed the purple dress and shimmy into the pink one as Feyre had asked. The long, flowing sleeves were off the shoulder, connected to the bodice by a small amount of fabric. The neckline of the dress was far lower than you were normally comfortable with, showing more cleavage than you ever had. The dress was loose fitting past your chest, the flowing skirts moving beautifully as you examined them. The pale rose pink of the fabric was one of your favorites, and didn't wash out your complexion. A difficult task, with how pale you are at the moment.

You walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror, assessing the dress. Your shoulders were far too bony, but even so... You felt beautiful in the dress, like a princess. The skirts reached your feet, billowing out around you. The neckline was lower than you wanted... But it looked lovely, and really, wearing one low-necked dress in your lifetime would be fine. A turn in the mirror showed you your prominent scapulae, half hidden by the fabric of the dress. That could be fixed by styling your hair in large ringlets, enough to cover most of your back. But the gown... The gown was lovely.

"Oh, I knew you would look perfect in that one!" Feyre cheered when she exited her dressing room in the dress you had picked for her. "You look amazing! Please tell me this is the one you want?" Feyre asked, standing by you as both of you stared in the mirror.

"You don't think it's too...?" You gestured to the neckline. "Revealing?"

Feyre shook her head. "No, mother no. I've worn much worse, you have nothing to worry about. It's just a little bit different than usual, is all. And it's perfect on you."

You tried to believe Feyre, and you did like the dress...

But then Nesta walked out. Her eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled as she gave you a once over, obviously displeased with how you looked.

She was so good at that. Tearing you apart with just one look.

"Your shoulders stick out," Nesta remarked as she took her place in front of the mirror, looking herself over. Her dress was made of shiny silver fabric, a corset in the same fabric serving as the bodice with thick straps wrapping over the tops of her shoulders.

You ignored her comment as best you could. "You look amazing in that dress, Nesta. The corset fits you perfectly."

A cold look over her shoulders, followed by a clipped, "Thank you."

Elain came out of her dressing room last, this time clad in a cream colored dress, looking every bit like the bride she was always destined to be.

"Oh, Elain! You look wonderful!" You said brightly as you took a step toward her, stopping when her gaze hit you- cold as ice. "This one looks very nice on you, but the last one looked amazing too," you said, more nervous now.

"Thanks," she answered coolly, setting her eyes on Feyre. "Feyre, that dress is stunning on you, and very fitting for Starfall."

You nodded in agreement, the dress was perfect for her. And just like you thought, it just barely highlighted the tiny baby bump Feyre had. The sight of it made you smile.

You were overjoyed that your sister had found a loving partner in Rhys, and was looking forward to motherhood.

"Thank you, 'Lain, I really like that it shows my bump just a bit, I think Rhys and I are ready to let our court know that we're expecting at Starfall," Feyre said excitedly, a hand stroking her belly.

"That's amazing, Feyre," Nesta said softly, sounding the kindest she had since they had been taken by Hybern.

"You'll be the talk of Starfall," Elain said, holding Feyre's hands in her own. "I'm so excited for you and Rhys!"

"I don't want to make the biggest deal out of it, after all, it's still early, but... Rhys is so excited about finally being a father, I had to talk him down from telling the Hewn City residents about it last night," Feyre sighed. "I am glad that I'm going to have all of my sisters with me, supporting me along the way, though. Thank you all for coming shopping today," Feyre said tearily.

"Of course, Feyre," you said, taking her in your arms. "We're always going to be by your side."

Elain's arms followed next, barely touching you but clutching Feyre close. "Yeah, Fey, we'll always be with you. Right, Nes?"

"Of course. I will always be here for you, Feyre," Nesta said, and reluctantly wrapped her arms around Feyre and Elain, one hand just barely touching you.

When you all pulled away, Feyre was crying softly, tears streaming down her face. You grabbed tissues from a nearby table, dabbing away the tracks of starlight on her face. "It's okay, Feyre. We're all here."

"I-I know," Feyre sniffled. "I just... I love you all so much. I can't imagine life without any of you." She let you wipe her eyes, dabbing away the last of her tears after she collected herself. "Now, let's try on the rest of the dresses, we shouldn't waste too much of Miss Tarin's time."

The four of you continued to try on dresses, with much of the same behavior. You attempted to compliment your sisters, only to be met with cold responses. If they did talk to you, it was to point out how the dress didn't suit you.

You still chose the pink dress that Feyre had chosen for you, Feyre choosing the blue one that you had picked for her. Nesta picked the silver gown. Elain had taken the longest to decide, eventually choosing the green dress she had tried on first.

Feyre had argued over the payment with Tarin, demanding that she pay full price for the rushed orders, eventually winning the argument. Nesta and Elain had left by that point, taking off to some vague location that contained books.

That left you and Feyre, walking slowly across the bridge that would lead you to the Rainbow. She wanted to look at paints, and maybe get something special for the canvases that you had gotten her.

And that's how you found yourself entering Irina's shop once more, your heartbeat kicking up when you realized it. Feyre led you to the wall of paint, her fingers hovering over the tubes as she searched for the colors she wanted.

Soft footsteps approached from the back of the shop, and you were met with Irina, her face just as beautiful as you remembered, her smile just as warm.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, Feyre and Y/N, it's lovely to see both of you," Irina's smooth voice said. "You came in just in time, I was about to close up early."

"Lucky us!" Feyre said, eyes still glued to the paint tubes. "Any special occasion?" She asked Irina teasingly as she pulled a few out of the selection.

"Oh, hush you," Irina scolded, swatting Feyre gently on the arm. "You know that I have a date with Rivin tonight."

Oh.

Your heart sank.

"Well, I wanted to make sure the plans were still on! You know I was rooting for the two of you to get together," Feyre said. You grabbed the paint tubes she had picked up from her, pushing her slender hand away when she attempted to take them back. Your fingers rolled over the cap, giving you a sensation to focus on besides your crushed... crush. "The way the two of you danced around each other since I first met you was adorable- I'm so glad you're going out now!"

"Well, I'll only be able to go out with her if you choose what you want soon, or she'll think I stood her up!" Irina laughed, her skin shifting colors under the light.

"Oh, fine, fine," Feyre said, pulling out three more tubes of paint, all shimmering metallic shades. You followed her as she followed Irina to the back counter, placing the tubes on it. Soon enough, the paints were rung up and bagged, and clutched tightly in your arms. "Thank you, Irina. I hope your date goes well."

"Oh, I do as well!" Irina said as she walked the two of you out of the store, locking the door behind her. "I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day as well."

"You as well, Irina," you said quietly, nodding your head to her before she turned to leave. She flashed you a dazzling smile, her eyes a bright pink today.

So pretty.

"I'll see the two of you around!" She yelled, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

You and Feyre began the walk home, arms linked together one more, your other balancing the bag of paint.

"How do you know Irina?" Feyre asked once you were crossing the Sidra, taking careful penguin steps so neither of you would fall on the slippery bricks.

Color rushed to your cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold. "Oh, I went into her shop to get one of your birthday presents. The canvases and all," you explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense. She's nice, and she has a great selection!" Feyre said excitedly as the two of you passed through the door of the River House. "I cannot wait to start the first three panels! I'm not quite through my third month yet, but I know some of what I want to do for it."

"I'm glad you like it Fey! I can't wait to see what you make for each one." You kicked off your boots after unlacing them, and let Feyre pull your jacket off your arms, you doing the same for her after. "I think I'm going to head up to my room," you said quietly after you hung up your coats and put your boots on the rack.

"Oh, alright. I... I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable while shopping," Feyre said. You knew what she meant: with Nesta and Elain.

"I was... fine," you lied half-heartedly.

Feyre stared at you, and you would have thought she was reading your mind, but you didn't feel anything similar. "If you say so. You know you can talk to me, right?" You nodded. "Okay... Well, I'll let you get to your room. Did you want me to start water for tea? I was going to make a cup for myself anyway," Feyre offered, a soft smile on her face.

You nodded again. "That would be nice, thank you, Fey."

Feyre's smile broadened. "I'll see you in the kitchen, sissy."

You went to your room to grab another packet of tea from the sampler Azriel had gotten you- so far, you were a fan of every blend he had chosen. You were hoping today's choice of a rose petal tea would be just as lovely.

The trip back to the kitchen was quick, with no sign of your other two sisters. Good. You weren't in the mood to see their sneering faces again so soon.

Tea was made quickly, thanks to Feyre boiling water for you. You gave her a hug before returning upstairs, tray balanced in your arms.

Just before you opened your door, the door to Rhys's study swung open, Azriel emerging from it.

Oh!

He came down the hallway, and once he was near the stairs you finally got your brain to move past your anxiety of starting a conversation.

"Hi, Azriel, would you uhm... Would you wait here for just a moment?" You asked. "I have that Solstice present I got for you."

"Alright," Azriel replied quietly, moving closer to your doorway. You went inside quickly, fishing the already wrapped box out from under your bed, and a moment later you were back in front of him, offering the gift to him.

"Open it," you said, pushing the box into his hands.

Soon enough, the dagger was in his hands, his fingers running over the inlaid crescent moon made of sapphires, then over the blade itself. "This is wonderful, Y/N, thank you," Azriel said, sincerity in his tone. "I happen to have gotten a gift for you as well." A moment later, shadows materialized, depositing a festive, glittery evergreen tree colored bag in his hand.

"Oh, Azriel, you didn't have to-"

"Open it," Azriel said simply, transferring the handles over to your hand in a quick movement.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, but opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful, hooded cloak that would reach at least your mid back, made of a soft, white yarn. Beneath it was a matching scarf, little tassels on the ends, and a pair of mittens. They even had a small button on the top, allowing for the and of the mitten to be lifted and become a sleeveless glove if needed.

"Its made of rabbit fur," Azriel said quietly as you ran your fingers over the fabric. You looked up at with him with wide eyes. "Oh- they just brush or shave the rabbits, don't worry, no fluffy creatures were killed in the making of your gift," Azriel reassured you.

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. Good. It's a beautiful present, Azriel, thank you. Could I- could I give you a hug?" You asked nervously, regretting the question the moment you asked it. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"That would be fine." You blinked up at him. That would be- You allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, noticing how stiff he was for the first few seconds before relaxing, his own arms coming up around you.

He smelled nice. Like cedar wood and... And night? Whatever it was, it was nice. Calming.

You both retracted your arms at the same time, pulling apart. A soft smile at him and one last thank you, and then you were in your room once more.

You were happy that he liked your present, but the slight wash of warmth it had given you was quickly chased away by the rest of your day.

Nesta and Elain... You were sure that they would never look at you like a sister again.

And Irina... It was such a silly crush that you had, based almost entirely on how pretty she was. You had been taken with her instantly, yes, breath catching in your throat. But that... That meant nothing.

Especially with you still being... Human. Frail. Less than a century from dying.

No fae, no matter how they looked, would ever take you as their wife, that you were sure of. You only had a couple of decades left of looking youthful, and perhaps only a few more past that before illness would inevitably take you.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat at your desk, a cup of tea poured out in the next moment.

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next week and a half passed dreadfully slowly, spent mostly in the solitude of your room.

Feyre came by when she could make time, the two of you sharing a pot of tea and the occasional snacks that she would bring.

Mor was stuck in the Hewn City, all the way until the morning of Starfall, when she would have a slight reprieve. She had already promised to come and spend the morning with you to get ready and catch up.

But until then, or until Feyre could make time... You stuck to your room.

Apparently your giving a joint present to Nesta and Cassian, and Elain and Lucien cause some extra anger in the two of them towards you. Nesta's glare had seemed extra fiery, and Elain had appeared perched on Lucien's lap more often than not when you did happen to wander into the living room.

You tried not to let it get to you, you did... But between the extra tension at home and the sadness in your heart from your silly little crush... It was weighing you down.

The days ticked past, counting down to an event that you weren't particularly excited for...

The morning of Starfall arrived, bringing with it the bright ball of energy that was Mor.

"Y/N!" Mor shouted, startling you awake. "Wake up! Wake up wake up! I'm here, I'm here. Please. Wake up. I've missed you!"

"Oh my gods, Mor, I'm awake," you groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes. "Do you know a gentle way to wake people up?" You asked as you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Mm, not really. But, my way is super effective," Mor said cheekily, grinning when you stood up in the tub to glare at her with no fire in your eyes. "Come over here, sweets," she demanded, patting the bed next to her. You went over to her, collapsing onto the bed next to her, and swatted at her with a pillow in revenge for her waking you so abruptly. "So, how have the past two weeks been for you?"

"Oh... You know... Boring..." You said quietly. "How's it been for you? Is everyone behaving?"

Mor narrowed her eyes at you for a brief moment, before accepting your change of subject. "Oh, most everyone has been fine... I've been trying very hard to change the city's voting system plus helping plan their Starfall event, so my hands have been full every waking moment. And Keir has been an absolute pain..." Mor sighed. "He doesn't like that he's losing most of his control by the city moving to a full population vote rather than just the nobles, but it's going to happen whether he likes it or not. But for me, that just means him being more of an ass."

"I'm sorry Mor. I wish that someone else was able to help you..."

"Feyre offered, but, well, with her being pregnant that's not the best idea. And I'm sure Amren would enjoy going solely to terrify the citizens, but that's not exactly... What we're aiming for. And I can do it, and I will, I just wish my stupid father wasn't a factor." Mor sighed dramatically and flopped back on your bed, arms flung out to the sides.

One smacked into your thigh and you laughed, pushing it off of you and back over to Mor's side. "I know something that will cheer you up," you offered.

"Oh?" Mor asked, peeking over at you. "And what would that be?"

"Doing our skincare!" You answered brightly, using the same tactic that she always did with you.

"Oh, I should have guessed!" Mor giggled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweets. Let's get to it!"

"Wait- let me take a quick bath first, and then I'll be all ready for it."

Mor nodded. "That sounds fine, I'll go make some tea and grab some breakfast for us."

The morning moved quickly from there- too quickly, in your opinion, your alone time with Mor slipping away so fast. After you had bathed, the two of you did your skincare, doing an extra mask and moisturizer to give yourselves an extra glow.

Into the second pot of tea Mor started doing your makeup once she had seen your dress. She spent nearly an hour on you alone, taking her time to perfect your eyeshadow and lipstick, getting just the right about of blush coloring your cheeks. You felt beautiful, seeing yourself like that in the mirror.

Mor's own makeup didn't take near as long, but she was even more beautiful than usual, with the extra time she had put in.

The two of you spent a bit more time together before she had to leave and return to the Hewn City for a bit longer, to make sure their celebration started smoothly.

"I'll see you at the House of Wind later, yes?" Mor asked before she left your room, a stern eye on you.

You sighed. "Yes, Mor, I will see you at the House of Wind. I won't skip out on the celebration, I promise."

Mor nodded in approval. "Good. I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

She breezed out of your room, leaving you alone once again.

You sighed, and sat down on your bed. Then collapsed back onto it.

Just a few more hours, and your anxious anticipation could subside.

Starfall would be fine this year. You will stay away from Nesta, Elain, and their mates, and instead stick around Feyre, Mor, and possibly Azriel, if he didn't seem too annoyed by your presence.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Four hours later, you were dressed and ready to leave for the House of Wind. Your hair was half pinned up by the hairpin you had bought yourself, half left down in loose curls that conveniently covered most of the bones in your back.

There was little you could do to cover your shoulders, what with the style of the dress, but you felt pretty nonetheless. The gown had been taken in slightly, just enough to fit more snugly and leave you feeling more comfortable with such an exposed neckline, more secure. And the way the skirts flowed around your feet made you feel more graceful than you were.

Overall, you felt decent about yourself tonight. Your hair had cooperated, not making you late for the start of the event by taking too long to style. And the makeup that Mor had done was perfect, just enough to enhance your natural features.

You had even opted for heels tonight, little sparkly silver boots that Feyre had gotten for you, in case you wanted something more than flats to wear.

When you finally left your room, you made your way downstairs where Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel were waiting in the entryway, seemingly for you.

"Oh, Y/N, you look beautiful!" Feyre exclaimed when she caught sight of you, rushing over to pull you into her arms. "I just love this dress on you!"

"Yes, both of you look lovely, but Feyre...?" Rhys started.

"Oh, shoot! We need to get going, Y/N, but Azriel will take you up to the House when you're ready!" Feyre said brightly, leaving the house a moment later and letting her mate take her in his arms, shooting of into the sky together.

Your heart dropped. Flying? You had only flown a few times, usually to get to the House of Wind as you would be tonight. It still terrified you as badly as it did on the first time, leaving you shaking every time.

"Are you ready to leave?" Azriel asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You nodded, and followed him outside, even as you felt like your heart was in your throat at the prospect of flying.

He gently pulled you into his arms, one hooked beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, ready to hold on for dear life.

Not that you didn't trust Azriel to keep you alive, just... You weren't made for flying, you don't think.

The push off from the ground had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut tight. You could feel your heart racing, trying to leave your chest as you were overtaken by fear.

"You look beautiful tonight," Azriel said, his deep voice in your ear causing your eyes to snap open.

"You don't have to lie..."

Azriel let out a soft breath. "I'm not lying, you look beautiful tonight. Pink is your color, I believe," He said, his voice right in your ear again. Color rushed to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled- small, but there.

A moment later, he had landed solidly on the ground, carefully placing you on your feet.

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

Soon after distancing yourself from him, Rhys rushed over to pull him away for some reason or another. Which left you standing alone in the House of Wind, for the first time since Bounty Day.

Anxiety grew in your gut again, making you feel queasy.

Especially when you saw the feast, laid out over that same massive dining table.

You turned away from the banquet, navigating instead to Feyre's side. Already she was surrounded by a few citizens, but you were able to make your way in for a hug from your sister. Soon though, far more crowded in, and following the arrival of Rhys you broke away from your sister, no longer feeling welcome next to them.

You wandered off, searching for Mor in the ever growing sea of people, with no luck yet.

Azriel, the other person you knew that could be safe to talk to, was occupied talking to a very pretty redhead, and also next to Nesta and Cassian.

Definitely a no.

After a while, you filled a small plate with food, picking at the smoked meats, cheeses, and some pieces of fruit until you couldn't stand it anymore, taking the plate back into the kitchens.

Back here, it was quieter. A few stragglers were wandering in and out between the balconies nearby, but you paid them no mind as you got a glass of cool water from the sink.

You let yourself take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, to bring yourself out of your anxiety. It helped, but not much.

It was enough to allow you to wander back out into the party, passing more than enough males who eyed you up and down, leaving you nervous. You were almost tempted to grab a glass of wine, but you knew all that was provided was faerie wine, something that you never wanted to try after hearing some of Feyre's tales involving it.

You knew this dress was a mistake. A beautiful one, yes, but it left you feel exposed unlike every before.

Every few minutes, you circled back to where Feyre was, seeing if there was an opportunity for you to ask her to take you back to the River House, or have someone take you back. But every time you passed, there was somehow more people crowded around Feyre and her mate.

Mor was nowhere to be seen two hours into the party, leaving you adrift in the sea of fae that had overtaken the House of Wind. You were overwhelmed and feeling so alone, the noise of the party drowning out any coherent thoughts you could have.

Just make it to the Starfall, and you can go.

That's what you told yourself for an hour as you continued your slow circles of the main rooms, attempting to find Mor or see if Feyre was available. No luck for you, though.

Cheers erupted as the first streaks of glowing green overtook the sky, giving you your cue to leave.

You didn't care that it was cold and snowy out, you just needed away from the noise, the lights, the everything that always surrounded you.

The stairs were hell in your heeled boots, but you dealt with them, forcing yourself to go one step at a time. By some miracle, you didn't fall, merely ending the massive flight of stairs by sitting down at the bottom to catch your breath.

Tears had begun falling down your cheeks at some point, driven by the cold and how lonely you feel, how forgotten you felt yet again.

You finally pushed yourself off of the cold stone, the bottom of your dress now wet with snow.

The forest would give you the peace you wanted, though you wouldn't venture near as far as you had last time. No, tonight you just wanted a bit of peace, a bit of time with only natural light shining upon you, even if it was enhanced by the cosmic phenomenon going on above you.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the forest in your sights. A sigh of relief left you as you saw the trees, so reminiscent of the ones you had grown up near.

And then you crashed into a wall.

"What the-?" You rubbed at your nose, attempting to soothe the pain of crashing into- whatever you had crashed into. You held your hands out, shocked to find that they rested perfectly on an invisible force in front of you. Nothing that you tried let your hands pass that point, and a kick at the area led to the same results- a foot that you knew would hurt badly in the morning.

You couldn't believe it.

They had locked. You. In. They had taken any amount of freedom you could have, no matter how fleeting it would inevitably be.

Ice cold rage and swells of disappointment left you a sobbing mess as you stumbled away from the wall of your cage, following the Sidra with no true destination in mind.

You would not be going back to that house. You couldn't. Not when- when... Not when Feyre had okayed you being locked inside of the city like nothing more than a pet, like you weren't a person with feelings and needs and desires.

You were sick of being alone, sick of feeling alone even in a sea of people. You had no one who was just yours. And that would never change in Velaris, would never change unless you were around humans once more.

"Y/N!" A warm voice said, drawing your eyes from the snow covered ground to the person it came from. "How did the recipe I gave you turn out? Good?" Sevenda asked, her smile turning to a frown when she saw your tear covered, blotchy face. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Another sob left your lips, despite your attempts to quiet it. "I- I- No," you managed to get out.

"Oh, come in here for a minute, Y/N, you're freezing!" Sevenda said, pulling you into the back of her restaurant. She pushed a cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly accepted, your fingers warming instantly from the mug. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

You shook your head, but sighed and answered anyways. "I just... I don't belong in that house, I don't belong in Velaris... I can't... I can't keep pretending like I do, acting like I'm happy to be there... I need..." You sighed again. "I need out of there." And then an idea struck you. "I- I know this would be a lot to ask, and that you likely don't need help from a human but... Do you happen to need help here? I could do anything you need, I just..." You trailed off.

"You need out?" Sevenda asked, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Well, I did lose one of my prep cooks to the Continent recently, he went to study new styles of cooking. If you are serious about this, I will have you show up at nine tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?"

You nodded your head vigorously. "I would be so grateful, Sevenda, truly, thank you so much." You let the older fae pull you into her arms, the gentle hug enough to stop your tears for the moment.

"Are you going to be alright, dear?" She asked once she pulled away, looking you in the eyes. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice at the moment. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of tea to go, and you should go straight home, hmm?"

You let her do just that, accepting the hot jasmine tea in a lidded cup that she made you promise to bring back in the morning. After saying goodbye, you set off in the opposite direction of the River House.

No matter how cold you were, you didn't feel like going back there yet.

Some time later, you found yourself on a cliffside, overlooking the bay of Velaris. Your tea was long gone by now, any warmth it had given you gone with it.

The rocks down below looked so inviting, as though they would welcome you in an instant. You let out a long, heavy breaths, tears beginning to flow again.

You wish you had the strength to jump.

Instead, you sat on the edge of the cliff, booted feet dangling over the side. The snow underneath you was frigid, leaving you colder than before. But still, you sat and watched the waves, and listened to the crash on the rocks below.

"Y/N?" A deep voice asked from behind you, but you paid it no mind. Maybe they would leave you alone. "Y/N?" The voice asked again. After another length of silence from you, the person took another approach, and sat next to you instead, their own long legs dangling over the edge. A warmth behind you, and less wind hitting you after the male readjusted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You still didn't answer.

Instead, you were surprised by gentle hands winding a scarf around your neck in two loops, then a cloak being fastened over your head and buttoned in the front, and finally a pair of mittens slid over your hand.

Azriel didn't make you talk, didn't make you do anything. He simply let you take the time you needed to recover, to stop your tears.

A while later, the waves started to lull you to sleep, your head tilting to the side until Azriel pulled it to his arm, letting you rest against him. Your eyes fluttered shut, your cheek soaking in the warmth of him, even through the hood of your cloak.

It was only when you nearly pitched forward off the cliff that Azriel insisted on taking you back to the River House, or at least to a café where you could warm up.

"I suppose..." your voice cracked. "That going back to the River House would be... fine... for now," you whispered, glad that he didn't force you to speak any more. A moment later and you were pulled through shadows, similarly to how Nuala and Cerridwen travelled but... different in a way. Almost warmer, you would say.

The two of you appeared in front of your bedroom door, the warm air shocking your skin and making you feel clammy.

"I'll have my shadows bring you a pot of tea, feel free to take a bath or change so you can warm up, Y/N. I hope you have a better night that it has been so far," Azriel said quietly before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Azriel," you croaked just before he turned to go down the stairs. He gave you a small smile and nodded before continuing on his way.

You entered your bedroom, tears falling almost instantly once you were alone again. You forced yourself to strip, hanging up the pink gown to dry and setting your sparkly boots near the door. The bath felt soothing, at least, warming you to the core by the time you got out.

And there, awaiting you on your desk, was a fresh pot of the lavender and chamomile tea that you preferred for sleep.

A few extra tears fell at that small act of kindness, and you helped yourself to a still steaming cup of it, settling into the armchair that you had perpetually pulled near your window, a throw blanket across your body.

Sleep claimed you before you had even finished your second cup of tea.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao

Series Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix

[beansprean]

Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 3

Guillermo you're meeeaaannn 🥰

Acts 1-2

Act 3: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Low exterior shot of a tall office building at night, labeled in the bottom third as 'Vampiric Council Headquarters'. A speech bubble bursts out from below, reading "Heeeere they are!" 1b. Interior of the building, still styled as Nadja's nightclub. Guillermo, wearing red chinos, suspenders, and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, is sitting at the bar with a glass of water in his hand, the small tank containing the mummified penis of Abraham van Helsing sitting nearby. Guillermo looks up as the Guide, wearing a long black skirt, boots, gloves, and a black and white striped blazer, appears and drops a tall stack of books, scrolls, paper, and one VHS at his elbow. She grins and announces, "The Vampiric Council's entire history on the Van Helsings!" 1b. Repeat. Guillermo turns toward her in his seat and reaches for the scroll on top of the stack, saying, "Huh. I don't know if I expected more or less." The Guide frowns, one hand on her hip and the other gesturing at the stack. She replies, "Hey, I went through a lot of trouble to pull all this out of storage! Vampires don't exactly love talking about this guy." A wraith hand reaches up from behind the bar to snatch Guillermo's water.

2a. Guillermo turns back toward the bar and begins to unroll the first scroll across the bartop, revealing what looks like a family tree. He says, "Yeah well. Thanks for your help." The Guide stands behind him with her arms crossed. 2b. Repeat. The Guide rolls her eyes up innocently and walks around Guillermo, sliding her hand across his back as she passes, saying, "Soooo..." Guillermo startles at the contact, his scroll springing back into a roll as he loses his grip on it. 2c. The Guide hops up to sit on the bar on Guillermo's other side and continues, "Why the sudden interest?" 2d. Close up of Guillermo in profile as he turns his attention back to the scroll, replying, "Oh, you know. Family." The Guide stares blankly from the background. 2e. Wide shot from behind Guillermo, showing the backdrop of the bar with the neon "nadja's" sign and shelves of blood. The Guide leans back and crosses her legs, asking, "Hmmm... looking for relations?" Guillermo replies, "No, just. Trying to figure out some...biological stuff."

3a. Close up on the Guide as she grins salaciously, raising an eyebrow and proudly pressing her fingers to her collarbone. She says, "Oh, I know all about Van Helsing biology, if you know what I mean." 3b. Zoom out to same angle as 2e. The Guide pauses and frowns, looking down as she presses her fist to her chin in thought. She continues, "Or at least I did, before hundreds of years of my life were ripped from my memory..." Guillermo swivels in his seat to face her with an irritated sigh, eyes closed. 3c. Close up of Guillermo's stern expression as he chops the air with one hand, saying, "Yeah, that's really, uh... tough, The Guide? But unless you remember anything useful, I'd rather do this on my own." 3d. Reverse shot of the Guide as she purses her mouth and looks away, a little hurt. She replies, "Oh. Okay, then."

4a. Close up of Guillermo from the front as he turns back toward the bar, rolling the scroll out in one hand and leaning his head on the fist of the other. In the background, the Guide turns back as she walks away, clutching the excess of her skirt in one hand. She offers a thin smile and says, "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" Guillermo just grunts in response. 4b. Wide shot of the large double doors into the chamber as the Guide leaves through them, skirts clutched in her fists and frowning deeply. She thinks to herself, "Useful, huh? I can be useful..." /end ID

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Your first date with Joel is here… along with a few other firsts.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT we’re finally heeeere y’all!! Enjoy :*  Unprotected p in v (not gonna bother telling y’all not to do this – you’re gonna do it anyway.  Be smart!), praise kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, a microscopic hint of overstimulation, aftercare, FLUFF, poor attempt at describing wine flavors, mentions of Alzheimer’s.

WC: 6k

Banner courtesy of the lovely @cafekitsune <3

Monday, October 18th | 0830

You wake to find that it’s still raining.  You went to bed earlier than usual last night, tired from your errands and your much-needed orgasm.  Unfortunately, it did nothing to satiate you.  Your mind was running amok, the anticipation of this evening was making everything worse.  Sighing, you roll over and grab your phone to check your notifications.  One from your mom and one from Joel.  Mom never texts me, you think.  You decide to deal with the bad news first.

Mom: Hey.  Call me when you have a chance.  Need to talk to you. 

Rolling your eyes, you don’t respond.  She probably wants to know if you’ve been to church and why you haven’t come to see her in x number of months.  You scroll down from the top to click on Joel’s message.

Joel: Morning.  Can’t wait to see you later today.

Your chest flutters as you type a response.

You: Same here.  Hopefully the rain stops soon.

Joel: Sounds like it’s going to keep on until later this week.  Do you have an umbrella?

You: I don’t think so, actually.  I’m not a very good Nebraskan

Joel: I have a few, I’ll make sure there’s some in my truck when I come get you.

You: Thank you. *kissy face emoji*

Joel: Need more of those.

You: Real kisses or emoji kisses?

Joel: All of it.

You finally get out of bed, make your coffee, put on a fresh face, and head to the gym.  You figure exercising will calm the nerves.  After a tough session on the stair stepper, you stop to get some last-minute things at the grocery store and head back home, eager to finish the rest of the day and see Joel.

Monday, October 18th | 1745

Glancing one last time in the mirror, you give yourself a mental thumbs up.  Your dress is hugging everything just right, and your makeup looks flawless.  You must admit, you look fucking good.  You can only imagine what Joel looks like.  Slicked back hair, or tousled curls?  Slacks and a button up?  Either way, he’s going to look mouthwatering.  You throw some fresh panties, a toothbrush, and some day-after clothes in your purse, just in case.

Your fantasy is interrupted by a knock at the door.  Your eyes widen and you look in the mirror one more time just to make sure all your bases are covered.  You open the door and see Joel standing there, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.

“Evening, sweetheart.  You look—,” he abruptly stops, sucking in a sharp breath and taking you in.  He breathes your name quietly, as if all the air in his lungs has been snatched out of them.  He looks at you like you’re the end-all-be-all.  Awe and desire shimmer in his eyes as they flick up and down your figure.  You’re doing the same.  He’s got navy slacks on, brown leather shoes, and a white button up underneath a matching navy blazer.  No tie.  His top two buttons are undone, revealing tanned skin on his broad chest that you want to touch so badly.  His hair is slicked a bit at the sides, leaving a few dark tendrils from the top that reach down and kiss his forehead.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he croons, putting his umbrella down and taking your hands in his as he enters your apartment.

“You are, too,” you say, pulling him closer and wrapping your hands around his forearms as he moves his hands to hold your waist.  He stares at your face for a while, his expression mirroring that of the night at the bar, right before he kissed you.  He leans in and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth.  You turn your head slightly and catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Nothing I imagined even came close to this,” he says as he pulls away.  You smile, your cheeks warming at his words.  Once again, your stomach ruins the moment with a loud gargle.  Joel laughs softly.  “Guess we should get goin’, then?”  You nod, clutching your stomach in embarrassment.  You put on your fuzzy sweater and grab your purse.  Joel leads you out of your apartment with one hand on your lower back, umbrella ready to go in the other.

When you both step out of the building, it’s pouring.  Joel opens the umbrella, and you scan the lot for his truck.  He points to a spot adjacent to the door, maybe 10 steps away.  Sighing with relief, you let him guide you to the passenger door.  He opens it for you, moving his hand from your back to your hand to give you a boost.  No guy has been so chivalrous to you – at least, not without expecting something physical in return.  You don’t think Joel is that way – but you want to make him feel good.

He turns the truck on and backs out, leaning on the center console with his right elbow.  He smells different than he did at the bar – less whiskey and spice, woodier with a glint of citrus.  You turn in your seat to admire him as he drives.  The curve of his nose, thick curls dipping down his brow, freshly trimmed black-and-white beard, thick and veiny neck.  His shirt exposes the perfect amount of his neck and chest, the sun-kissed rods of his collarbone peeking, no hair to be seen.  You can’t really see him as the type to get waxed – must be natural or rubbed away by the friction of wearing his thick flannel shirts for years on end.  He notices you ogling him, and the right side of his face curls up in a smirk.

“You alright over there, darlin’?” He cranes his neck your way, moving his hand to rest on the skin above your knee.  You relish the warmth of it.

“You clean up nicely, Miller.  And you smell good.”

“You should see yourself.  God damn,” he says with a squeeze on your knee.  It sends white-hot electricity bolting up your leg to your core.  He turns to look at you, his gaze molten with desire.  You gulp and break eye contact first.  You won’t make it into the restaurant if he keeps looking at you like that.

Thankfully, the universe gives you a break and he finally pulls into the parking lot of an impressive Italian Restaurant, Spezia.  The restaurant is an old brick building laced with vines; string lights are crisscrossed above the patio area and the name of the restaurant is carved in soft green, cursive neon light above the big front wooden doors.  You’d heard a lot of good things about this place but had never been.  As he parks, you instinctively pull on your door handle before catching yourself.  You turn and see Joel, staring at you with his head tilted and one eyebrow raised as if to scold you.  You give him a close-lipped grin.  “Sorry, keep forgetting!  Just not used to this,” you say, removing your hand from the handle.

“Good girl… we’re gonna change that,” he murmurs, which makes the hairs on the back of your neck stick up straight.  Fuck.  He gets out and walks over to open your door.  You hadn’t noticed that the rain stopped on your way over – too mesmerized by Joel.  Guess the universe is looking out for you.  He holds out his hand and helps you out, offering you his arm as both of you walk to the front door.

Inside is a dimly lit, open dining room with an array of circle-shaped tables donned in white tablecloths.  Tealights are flickering on the tables.  Scents of garlic, parmesan, and spices envelope your nostrils.  Low music plays, chords of a cello intertwined with a piano and a Sinatra-sounding voice.  This is quite romantic – Joel did good.  The hostess smiles at both of you.  “Reservation for Miller,” Joel says in his gruff voice.  She grabs two small black books from behind the podium and beckons you two to follow her.  She walks to a table near the windows, two full wine glasses waiting for you at each placemat.  It’s white wine, which is perfect – you hate reds.  How did he know?  “Your server will be with you right away,” she says with a smile.  You thank her.

Joel pulls your chair out so you can sit first, his hand brushing your back as he walks over to his seat.  You pick up your wine glass and give it a sniff.  Sweet, fruity, bubbly – must be moscato.  “Did you get some ideas from Keri?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a sip.  It’s smooth and not overly sweet, with notes of apple, orange, and honey.  He grins.  “I’ll never tell, darlin’.  Only thing that matters is that you enjoy it.”  He cheers your glass and takes a sip, eyes never leaving yours.

You two order some appetizers and entrees when the server comes over.  You’re falling into the rhythm of comfortable conversation, once again.  He asks about school, your family, your early life.  You mention your dad’s death and your rough relationship with your mother, which nearly dissipated after you graduated.

“So, I take it you got a degree, then?” he says, swirling around his glass of wine as he watches you.

“Yep.  Biochemistry,” you say, hoping that doesn’t lull him to sleep.  You half expect him to ask you why you didn’t become a doctor, the way most people do when they hear biochemistry degree.  He sucks in a sharp breath.  “Smart, then.  Too fuckin’ smart for me.  Knew you were, obviously – but that’s proof.  Not an easy road.  Sarah’s doing nursing,” he says.

“Nursing is tough, too – especially in these days post-pandemic.  So much is expected of nurses, but they don’t get the pay or respect they deserve unless they’re traveling nurses,” you add.  He nods.  “She’s wanted to be a nurse ever since she was a little girl.  Stubborn one, my daughter,” he says with a smirk.

“Can’t imagine where she gets it from,” you tease, looking around in mock surprise.  He reaches over to squeeze your hand.

“Shut it, beautiful.  Y’aint that much better, yourself,” he says.  He’s not wrong.  Your showdown with Cedric probably told him as much.

Your food comes and you both spend the rest of the dinner enjoying it and a few more glasses of wine.  You continue getting to know each other in between bites – or during if you’re Joel.  The server comes over with the check and gives it to Joel.  He opens it and reads with no reaction on his face and pulls out his wallet to pay.  You interrupt him by putting a hand on his arm.

“We can split it, if you want,” you say cautiously.  He shakes his head and smiles at you.  “’Preciate it, sweetheart.  But I’m sticking to my roots here.  You deserve a nice night out, and I’m happy to give that to you.”  His words make you smile softly.

After the bill comes back, he walks over to pull your chair out and helps you up.  You peek outside the window and see that it’s dark now, and the rain is gone for good.  “Where to next?” you ask, feigning innocence.  He looks at you in a way that makes your stomach churn.

“Want to come over?  I’d like to ask you to stay if you’re comfortable.  Do you need clothes?” he asks, warm hand curling around your waist as you exit the restaurant.  Thanking your past self for packing some clothes, you shake your head.  “I’m prepared.”  He raises an eyebrow at you.  You smile nervously.

“Expected me to ask ya that, huh?” he says, smirking devilishly.  You nod matter-of-factly.  He laughs and leans in, so his lips are almost touching your ear.  “I always keep my promises, darlin’,” he says in a sexy, low voice, making you clench absolutely nothing.  You shudder.  He opens your door for you and helps you in.

The ride back to Joel’s is quiet, but not in an awkward way.  He lives in the Eagle Run neighborhood of West Omaha – an upper middle-class neighborhood near a big golf course.  He pulls up to a big, beautiful two-story brick house and clicks on a garage door opener hanging on his vanity mirror.  You’re surprised, but should you be?  He is a successful business owner with multiple locations in the U.S., after all.  The front yard is lined with neatly trimmed shrubbery – Joel’s handiwork, you think – bushes of gorgeous flame azaleas, and two large, older maple trees staked in the middle, leaves sporting a beautiful gradient of red to yellow.  He has a Texas Longhorns stone on his front porch that makes you grimace.

“Joel, if we keep seeing each other, that Longhorns stone has got to go.  You’re in Cornhusker country now,” you scold playfully.  He laughs, silently rejoicing at the notion that you want to keep seeing him.  “Darlin’, I’m a true Texas man, and I’m from Austin for Christ’s sake.  You’re not even old enough to see how far back the rivalry goes.  I’ll never like your Huskers,” he chides.  You stick your tongue out at him and open your own door.  He doesn’t protest this time.  He’s got a three-car garage, the two-car space filled with what appears to be a company truck.  “Miller Contracting” is stickered on the back window.  The single-car space has a nice BMW 740i sedan that makes your eyes widen.

“Is this your car, Joel?”  you ask, walking over to examine it.  It has a pearlescent navy-blue coat with a tan leather interior.  Sheepishly, he nods.

“When Tommy and I expanded the business, we finally had the time to realize how well we had been doing.  I decided to treat myself for once – I got Sarah a car and bought this for myself.  Too much, if you ask me, but it’s a sign of how far we’ve come.  Reminds me to keep goin’,” he says, looking at the car appreciatively.  He’s obviously impressed you from the jump, but now you’re curious as to why he donates plasma – he clearly doesn’t need to.

“So, you donate out of the goodness of your heart, then?” you tease.  He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.  “The money is gonna go to Sarah, so she’s got some fun money.  She works, and I give her money now and then, but want her to understand it all comes with a limit,” he says.  Good dad – teaching his daughter responsibility and sacrificing his time and bodily fluids while doing it.  You nod.  He opens the door to the house and beckons you to go in first.

The door leads into a large laundry room.  He guides you through there and into the kitchen, which makes your jaw drop.  Beautiful, shiny hardwood floors are the first thing you notice – again, you’d be surprised if Joel hadn’t done these himself.  In the middle is an enormous island, with a deep sink and stainless-steel dishwasher.  The refrigerator, also stainless-steel, is probably twice the width of the dinky one in your apartment.  Adjacent to it is a beer and wine fridge, filled with bottles of red and white wine, and tons of Coors Light.  You smirk, thinking Joel was just a whiskey guy.  You bet he has a full bar downstairs with tons of different whiskeys.  Countertops of gorgeous white and black marble draw your attention, and you find yourself running a hand over the top of one instinctively.  Smooth.  Joel admires you while you admire his kitchen.

“Want something to drink, darlin’?” he asks, grabbing two wine glasses out of the cupboard near the fridge.  “Got wine, beer, and your fav’ downstairs,” he adds with a wink.  Whiskey, duh.  You’re not drunk, and your nerves are starting to rein in.  “Wine is good – keep the theme of the night going,” you say, flashing your teeth at him.  They draw his eyes like a magnet, and they flash obsidian.  He pops the cork out of a bottle of some white wine and pours you both a glass.  You walk over and grab the bottle to inspect the label.   Chateau d'Yquem, 2020.  You don’t dare guess how much this cost.  Joel notices your curiosity.

“S’from a client that lives ‘round here,” he says, sauntering over you, glasses in hand.  You nod.  “Oh?  Contracting client or…?” you ponder, smirking at him with one eyebrow raised.  “Let’s just say I’m good with my hands,” he winks at you and hands you a glass.

You take a sip, closing your eyes to examine the flavors.  Sweet citrus hits you first – mango, pineapple, apricot – followed by a rush of sea salt and an almost yeasty flavor.  The wine you’re used to drinking is Barefoot and sickly sweet – this is otherworldly.  You find yourself moaning softly.  “Wow, Joel… that’s – that’s something else,” you say, noticing him white-knuckling the countertop with his free hand, clearly affected by your reaction to the wine.

He puts his glass down and takes his jacket off, walking back to the laundry room to hang it up.  You’re leaning stomach-first against the island, facing what looks like a dining area with some large bay windows.  His footsteps approach you and hands smooth around your waist to latch in front of you, on your stomach.  His warm frame envelopes your back.  You sink into him and lean your head back on his shoulder.  He kisses your neck, squeezing your stomach and breathing in your scent.  Your breath hitches and you clutch his arms.  His mouth moves up your neck to nibble on your earlobe – he remembers your hot spots – and you gasp, tingles cascading down your spine.  He tucks your hair over to the other side and starts working his lips and teeth on your neck and shoulders.

“Fuck – y-you gonna give me the tour, or what?” you sputter as he bites lightly on your shoulder.  He hums and kisses his way back up your neck, stopping his lips right at your ear.  “Good idea, darlin’,” he murmurs.  He lets go of you briefly, taking your hand to lead you through the dining area to the living room.  It’s a giant room, filled with leather couches, a huge TV mounted on the wall, and high vaulted ceilings.

“Living room,” he says monotonously.  You giggle.  You take it he’s not too keen on hosting.  You wind your way to the front of the house near the front door.  He takes you up the stairs, and you marvel at a modern wood pendant chandelier, casting an amber glow on the foyer.  The walls in this part of the house are a navy blue – must be his favorite color.  He walks to French doors a few paces in front of the staircase and pushes one open, clutching your hand with his other hand still.

You’ve entered a large room with dark gray walls – presumably Joel’s.  There’s a king bed in the middle, two beautiful handcrafted wooden nightstands perched at each side.  A smaller wooden pendant light with a fan hangs on the ceiling, which is also vaulted in this room.  In one corner of the room lies a black leather chair, with a plaid handmade quilt hanging over the back.  Paintings of a forest, mountains, and a buffalo line the walls – very Joel-esque.

The other side of the room leads to a bathroom bigger than your entire apartment.  “Jesus, Joel… your house is beautiful,” you say, stepping in the bathroom and marveling at the size.  A Jacuzzi is on your right, two sinks on your left with a giant LED mirror hanging above them.  Next to the Jacuzzi is a walk-in tiled shower with opposing shower heads and a generous seating area.  You raise your eyebrows at the thought of the activities that could be had in here.

Joel watches you learn the anatomy of his bedroom and bathroom, admiring your childlike curiosity.  You’re beautiful, very much so, but something in your eyes catches his interest – the way you study things.  Eyes inquisitively scanning each part of the room, hands testing whatever theory is in your brain.  He wonders what you see.  You stop studying and turn, catching him staring.  The way he looks at you makes you freeze.  Desire, admiration, amusement.  His eyes travel up and down your frame.  You take slow steps toward him, eyes never leaving his.

“Have I told you that you’re fuckin’ beautiful?” he says hoarsely, hands latching on to your hips as you get close to him.

“I don’t think so…” you say, eyes looking up and to the side in mock confusion.  He pulls you flush to him, and you turn to face him.

“Can’t stop starin’ at you ‘cause you’re so goddamn pretty,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, tilting his head toward you and leaning in.  Your eyes flick down to his parted lips, yours doing the same as you get closer.

When your lips meet, finally, a flame is lit inside you.  Passion overtakes both of you, mouths opening and tongues tangling.  His hands are gripping your hips, your ass, your waist – yours find home in his curls and tug lightly.  You’re reminded of how much he enjoys that when he moans into your mouth.  You’re dripping already, and still, he’s barely touched you.

He picks you up and you break the kiss momentarily with a yelp, causing him to chuckle.  He leads you to the bed and lays you down, hands smoothing down your torso and legs as he stands to remove his shoes.  You watch him quietly, chest heaving in anticipation.  He returns to you as if he can’t bear another moment not glued to you and kisses you, hard.  His teeth graze your lower lip and pull, making you moan.  He kisses the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw, down your throat and stops at your clothed collarbone.

“Sit up, sweetheart,” he orders softly.  You obey.  Staring deeply into your eyes, he reaches behind you and pulls the zipper of your dress down.  You remember now that you chose to forgo a bra, but you made sure to wear some sexy lace panties that are soaked through by now.  He pulls the dress off as you reach your arms out, a low growl escaping his throat at the sight of your naked upper body.  “Good god, girl,” he breathes in awe, pulling the dress down your legs to expose your black lace thong.  Black was a good choice – the puddle seeping through is invisible—for now.  You lie back on the bed as he admires your curves and exposed skin.  You see his hardness poking through his pants and his eyes are molten.

Not wanting to go another moment without touching you, he crawls on the bed and kisses you again, one hand curling under your head to support you, the other snaking up your stomach to palm one of your breasts.  You let out a moan as he kneads it, pinching your nipple before he moves to the other one.  He starts kissing down your neck again, down your sternum, moving down further to suck one nipple into his mouth, moaning at the taste.  Your back arches and your hands knead his scalp as you whine softly at the pleasure.  He suckles the other nipple, one of his hands skimming down your stomach to your thigh.  The new touch makes you jump a bit.  He lets go of your nipple with a pop and looks up at you.

“Y’alright, baby?” he says, genuinely concerned.  Smoothing hair out of his face, you nod.  “Haven’t been touched there in a while,” you admit, cheeks warming.  He comes back up to kiss your lips softly.  “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he says, forehead resting against yours.  You cup his face with your hands and give him a quick kiss.

“I know,” you whisper, lost in his chocolate gaze.  He starts kissing down your torso again and stops once he reaches lace.  You’re squirming a bit, and he peeks up at you, silently asking for your permission.  You nod.  He kisses the inside of your right thigh, ending with a nip before moving to the left one.  Your hips are already grinding in anticipation of what he’ll do next.  Looking in your eyes, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and pulls them down, leaving you completely bare.

“Jesus Christ… so perfect,” he breathes, admiring all of you.  Your pussy is glistening, the mess he’s been creating finally visible to him.  “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby – you want me this much?”

“Yes, Joel,” you pant, needy.  He growls again.

“You got no idea how much I want you, darlin’,” he says, shuffling down on the bed and hooking one of your legs over his shoulder.  He places wet kisses on your mound and on the sides of your core, not quite touching you where you want him.  You groan.  You feel his smile curve on your inner thigh.

“Tell me, baby, talk to me,” he teases, watching you as his lips inch closer to your cunt.  Your back arches again, frustrated with anticipation and desire.  “I want your mouth on me, Joel,” you whine.

When his tongue finally darts out to taste you, you gasp, hands flying to grip his hair.  He moans at how good you taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core.  He starts with slow, flat strokes of his tongue up your center, occasionally stopping to gather more spit and slick at your entrance.  You moan, louder this time, his pace and the warmth of his tongue sending you closer to the edge.  He stops at your bundle of nerves and sucks lightly, which nearly snaps you in half.  His hands hold your hips in an iron grip, preventing you from being excused from the pleasure he’s so willingly giving you.  He pulls his mouth away briefly to look at you, lips and chin glistening.

“Fuck, you taste so goddamn good,” he rumbles, removing one hand from your hip to slowly open you up.  You moan at the stretch – not only has it been a while for you, but he’s got thick fingers.  “So tight, baby – think you can take another?” he says, watching your pussy grip and wet his finger.  You moan in approval, head and eyes rolled back.

“Look at me,” he orders, breathless.  “I wanna see you.”  You lift your head up to watch him as he slips another finger in and crooks them both, your eyes widening and mouth falling open at the expansion of your walls.  You can’t even imagine what his dick will feel like.  He looks absolutely wrecked – as if seeing you undone like this is pushing him to his own edge.

“Good girl,” He praises you, making you swoon.  He latches his mouth onto your pussy again, picking up the pace with his fingers as he licks and sucks on you.  He moans as he eats you out, which only gets you to the top faster – knowing that he loves doing this to you.  Your legs are starting to shake and flex, putting him in a headlock.  He’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, each bump of your G-spot sending white-hot pleasure up your stomach.

“Come on, baby – give it to me,” he says, mouth still on your clit.  You’re gripping his collar, hair, back of his neck, whatever you can grab as you get closer and closer to the peak.

“Fuck, Joel!  I’m so close—” you moan, your breaths coming out in quick, heavy heaves.  He takes this as a challenge, suckling on your folds while moving his head from side to side.  His beard chafes at the skin on your inner thighs.  His fingers curl upward inside you as they continue their ravaging, and you’re done for.  Finally, the band inside you snaps – leaving you trembling and spitting a barrage of Joel’s name and curse words as you come, hard.  He’s loving every minute of it, lapping you up while your muscles spasm around his fingers, legs threatening to crush his skull.  He’s groaning as he watches you come, in awe of your beauty and the pleasure painted on your features.  He only stops when your legs loosen their grip on his shoulders and head, another growl leaving him as he kisses his way up to your body to your lips.  You moan softly as you taste yourself on him.

You realize he’s still fully clothed and reach down to unbutton his shirt.  He quickens the process by removing his belt and then his pants and boxers, struggling to pull them over his rock-hard cock.  Mouths still slotted together, he presses himself flush against you, his naked body warming yours.  You reach down to stroke him, a moan escaping from his lips.  Precome oozes down the head of his cock and you rub it up and down his length.  He’s thick.

“Baby, be careful – I want this to last as long as possible,” he pants, looking just as wrecked as earlier.  You surrender and let go of him, your hands gripping his back as he continues to lick into your mouth while grinding his hips on yours.  The head of his cock strokes your wet folds, causing you both to moan.  He breaks the kiss to look you in the eyes, the only sound in the room your labored breaths.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me – you ready, darlin’?” He asks.  You love that he wants nothing more than to make you feel good.  You nod, biting your lip in excitement.  He sits back on his heels and guides his cock through your folds a few more times, watching you writhe.  He smirks.  “I know, baby.  I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.”

His cock notches at your entrance and starts to slip in, slowly.  Leaning over you, he grabs your right leg and grapples it over his hip as you both watch each other feel one another for the first time.  Both of your mouths agape, you moan in unison as he slowly sinks further into you.  It’s nothing like either of you have ever felt or imagined—your bodies seem like they’re made for the other.  Each inch he gives you sends shockwaves shooting up your back, and the combination of your warmth, wetness, and tightness is an entirely new sensation for him.

“So beautiful, baby – fuck, you are perfect,” he groans as he fills you up.  The stretch and girth of him rip you apart at first, but the pain fades to achy pleasure as your muscles acclimate to his size.  He’s still watching you, waiting to see what you look like when he’s all the way in.  The tip of his cock hits your cervix, and you cry out, eyes squeezing shut momentarily.  His hand moves to your jaw, pulling your forehead to his and forcing your eyes open.  “Come on, baby – need to see those gorgeous eyes.”

Your walls are spasming, the stretch of him, combined with the pleasure and anticipation of your first time together, overwhelming your muscles with adrenaline.  He reads your mind.  “Relax, baby girl, I got ya,” he soothes, leaning down to kiss you as he slowly starts to pull out of you.  You will yourself to relax just a bit, your body rewarding you with micro-tremors of pleasure.  Still watching you, he quickens his thrusts.  You’re reaching the peak again, brows furrowed and hands gripping him so tightly he might have bruises tomorrow.

He sits up and grasps your hips as he pounds into you harder, the new angle and pressure pushing you over the fucking edge.  His eyes travel from your face to your body beneath him and he tries to commit every snapshot to memory—he can’t stop looking at you, can’t forget this.  Your breasts bouncing with each thrust, the curve of your abdomen and hips, the look of pure bliss on your face—he loves every second of it.

“Gimme another one, baby, know you can do it,” He groans, feeling your muscles gripping him as he continues to pound into you.  The room is filled with an orchestra of skin slapping skin, curses, and cries of pleasure from both of you.   Pleasure and pain intertwine to stretch the band inside you once again, your second orgasm on the brink.  Joel is close, too – eyebrows threaded together, teeth gritted, hands bruising your hipbones, thrusts becoming less and less uniform.

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good, gonna make me come,” he praises, looking into your eyes.  You’re so close, legs trembling again and nails clawing at his forearms, vision blurring as pleasure overtakes the rest of your senses – but you manage to keep your eyes on him.

“Where d’you want it, baby?  I’m close,” he pants, trying desperately to hold on so you can reach another high.

“Inside me—oh, fuck—I’m on the pill,” you respond, trying your hardest to speak coherently.  His eyes darken for a moment, thrilled at the thought of filling you up.  He slows his pace slightly and increases the pressure of his thrusts, and you come hard, high-pitched moans of his name replacing normal speech.  That does it for him.  He spills inside you, each contraction of your pussy sucking more spend out of his cock.  He’s rambling as he empties himself inside you – good girl, you did so good for me, so beautiful when you come.  You’ve never experienced this magnitude of pleasure with someone else, nonetheless felt so connected physically and emotionally.  He collapses on you while still inside you, mouth finding yours for a searing kiss.  He pulls back after a while and brushes your hair from your face, cradling the crown of your head in his hands.  “Told ya I keep my promises,” he says, kissing your forehead softly.  You hum in delight.

You both lie there for a moment, relishing in what both of you can say was the best sex ever.  Joel finally pulls out of you, bringing some of him with him.  He gets up and walks toward the bathroom, returning with a warm towel to clean you up.  You squirm as he wipes you up, still sensitive and thighs raw from his beard scratching you there.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologizes, smiling contritely at you as he wipes up the last remnants of him and you from your thighs.  He returns the towel to the bathroom and comes back to bed, pulling you into his chest, arm draped around your midsection.  You’re about to doze off as Joel turns you to face him, eyes crinkled with worry.  Concerned, you prop yourself on your elbow, mirroring him.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask.  He smiles genuinely at you.  “Yeah, I just—,” he sighs, pushing a stray hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek.  “Didn’t want ya to think I brought ya here just for this.”  His expression is so pained, so worried.  You lean in to kiss him gently on the lips.  “I know, and I didn’t come here just for this,” you remind him, “Truly.”

“I know, baby.  I know we just met, and I’m an old man, but—but you’re special, and I feel like this is different,” he says, staring into your eyes with so much affection it makes you want to cry.  “I want to make sure I do this right.”  He grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss on it.

“I trust you,” you say.  And you do – and he believes you.

Taglist: @burntheedges <3

[call-me-rucy]

Cetaganda ch. 3

So Vor is equivalent to ghemlord, I guess? Then haut might be the royal family proper.

Each house also has a mourning uniform?! So many uniforms! If I do more Vorkosigan art I'll be trained in uniform design for the rest of my life.

"No one but the Cetagandan Emperor could arrange an assassination inside". Me, knowing this book is marketed as a murder mystery: *rises eyebrow*

Today I learned the word: "Satrapía" (satrap)

NOT "BLOQUEADORES" FOR STUNNERS. Oh come onnnnn… Aturdidores. It has always been aturdidores. What's with being a pretty cool TL but giving the weapons ridiculous names?

You know what's worse of this translation ordeal? That I looked it up and this is the same person who translated Barrayar. So, to the fact that this translation is not consistent with any other, add the injury that it's not consistent with their own work!!!

The hautladies and their bubbles is interesting worbuilding! I like it!!

Gregor mentioned!! Hi, my boy!! Well, "my boy", he's older than me now… (If Miles is 23, Ivan 22 then Gregor is 28. They grow up so fast :"))

Is-is it good etiquette to gift the sword greatgrampa used to kill someone's army to that someone? Cause iirc Dorca is the last common ancestor for Miles and Gregor, yes?

And we're meeting with a hautlady! Cool!!

Miles, for the love of everything, think! "Genomic constellation"! "Three generations apart"! This is the empress greagranddaughter, I'm betting my money. And she must be 30 or so if she has served half of her life and we asume Cetagandans are not too big on child labour...

Oh! Gender stuff! So ba-people don't have gender, huh.

So that was. An intense meeting. But hey, there's at least one person searching the mysterious thing!

Heeeere's the dead body! :D

Can't help but notice that since it's in the place of the first gift, it would be in the place of the Emperor's gift, presumably. Which could mean nothing.

Research has shown English does "it" pronouns for bas. Consistent with other non-binary people in the saga such as Bel. Spanish on its part is doing its very best to avoid pronouns but ba has been designated a male noun. "Un ba/el ba" and not "una ba/la ba".

"Damn, I wish I could have been in charge of this."

Miles. Be extremely careful with what you wish for.

[itsyourstarboy]

Streamer!Honey Headcanons Pt.5

First Part

AT LONG LAST.... THE STREAMER!HONEY HEADCANONS FINALE

Note: This may be the last part, but it is not the end of Streamer!Honey!!! Just the long-winded headcanon posts. I have more planned for the future ^^ mini-fics, shitposts, all sorts of shenanigans <3

—

The punch became a meme. Honey hates it, and Guy hates that Honey hates it.

But god if it isn’t hilarious.

It took a good few months for Honey to stop beating themself up over it, and now they are able to look back on it and laugh. They even have a GIF of the moment as an alert for gifted subs.

—

Charity streams!!! Honey loves doing them. It’s fun, and for a good cause.

And, though it’s fun, sometimes it can get out of hand.

It was meant to be a joke! But, before they knew it, they hit the donation goal...

♡♡♡♡♡♡

HFDJSFEJGGFJSK

IM FREAKING OUT

CANTWAITCANTWAITCANTWAIT

I can’t believe they’re actually doing this 🤭🤭🤭

I DONT KNOW IF MY GAY LITTLE HEART WILL BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT

The sound of the door opening made chat go mostly still.

Honey, very reluctantly with an embarrassed scowl on their face, stepped into camera view.

They stood stiffly, pondering how they ended up here. Here, on stream, in front of thousands of perfect strangers...

Wearing a maid outfit.

Not even a comfortable one! It was frilly, and itchy, and the skirt was way too fucking short.

OMFGNO I FCKING CANT-

🤣🤣🤣🤣

I CANT BREATHE

OH MY GOOOOOOOD

You look so cute!!!

THIS WAS SO WORTH THE MONEY

IM WHEEZING AND I CANT FIND MY INHALERR

HSGJJFHZJAHHAHAHAH

Oh 😳😳

WHY IT LOOK KINDA GOOD THO??

[HONEY’S] TOO HOT THEY KILLED SOMEBODY

“I hate everything,” Honey muttered, as they tried to tug the dress down. It was bad enough that it was so revealing, but it also wouldn’t zip up all the way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It would only get worse, however, as the next goal would add thigh highs.

And the one after that would add...

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING NOW

AaaaawwwWWWW WHAT A CUTE KITTY

You mean “right fucking meow?”

THEY LOOK SO PISSED LMAO

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING MEOW

They’re gonna kill us 😭😭😭😭

IM QUEER

With what? Their wittle paws?? 😽😽

This is my phone lockscreen now

Simp

“Yeah, you all better enjoy this, ‘cause I’m never doing it again.”

Doubt it, this is the fastest we’ve ever raised money

NOOOOOOOOO

Still waiting for you to say nya

NYAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA

ITS THE CIIIIIIIIRRRRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIFEEE

“I’m not saying that.”

tf you’re not-

★someone donated $50★

SAY NYA BITCH

Honey heaved out a sigh that bordered a growl, and very blandly, “nya.”

As Chat cheered and went practically feral, Honey could only be glad that this couldn’t possibly get any wors-

They froze as they heard the Jaws theme start playing.

“Oh f-”

HE’S HEEEERE

YEEEEEEEESS

HoneysHeaven: wowah 😳

THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER

HOLY CRAP SOMEONE TAGGED HIM ON TWITTER 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

HoneyHeaven: hey there Honey ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

SOMEONE SNITCHED????

Honey braced their elbows on their desk and hid their face in their hands. “Go back to working.”

HoneysHeaven: I will if you promise to still be wearing that when I get home 👀👀

“I’m burning it as soon as this stream ends.”

NOO YOU CANT BURN IT YOU LOOK SO SEXYY 😩😩

The boy just wants to see you all dolled up Boo, let him have his treat

“The next 15 minutes are going to be hell.”

HoneysHeaven: oooh the next goal you put on a collar, hm? 😏😏

Guy ur killing even me rn

OH WAIT I JUST GOT GUYS USERNAME

HoneysHeaven: Honey can you send me like $70

“I am not sending you money.”

HoneysHeaven: awww cmon 🥺🥺 my break ends in 2 minutes I just want to see you in a collar

ITS FOR CHARITY

DONATE TO THE CAUSE

“I’ll put you in a collar,” Honey grumbled with their arms crossed tightly.

HoneysHeaven: wouldn’t be the first time 😉

HOW DO WE RAISE ANOTHER 500 IN 10 MINUTES

AYO WHAT????

—

Guy likes interrupting Honey’s streams unprompted. He loves seeing the smile on their face. The gentle one that they wear while doing what they love. It makes him want to smother them in kisses.

Sometimes when he does this, he forgets about the mask and glasses. There have been plenty of times where he’s nearly accidentally exposed his face to the world, and it gives his honey a mini heart attack each time.

Honey made the executive decision to rearrange their setup so that the door was no longer in view. That way, Guy could spontaneously enter as much as he pleased.

—

Honey was still streaming when Guy returned home from work. They had told him in advance that this stream would be dragging on a bit longer than normal.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Honey looked up as they heard the door click open. Guy entered, waving a paper bag around.

“Honeeeey,” he sang, “I’ve brought you somethiiiiing.”

is that the boy i hear 👀👀👀

EVERYONE SHUT UP I NEED TO WITNESS THIS

DETROIT CAN WAIT THIS IS IMPORTANT

Honey eyed the bag skeptically as Guy drew closer, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Guy laughed, stopping right outside of the camera’s view. “I brought you donuts!”

“Ooh, really? What’s your motive?”

“Wha-? Motive!? Why do you think I would have a motive?”

Honey raised an eyebrow at their boyfriend and smirked.

Immensely offended, Guy scoffed, “what, am I not allowed to bring the most important person in my life a treat? Purely out of my own volition and the kindness of my heart?”

“I was joking before, but now I’m actually suspicious...”

“Just take the donuts, Honey,” Guy softly spoke with a warm smile, holding out the bag and leaning forward.

When Honey’s hand brushed against his own, Guy leaned closer, his other hand cupping the back of their neck. He held the bag up to hide his face from viewers as he placed a gentle kiss on his partners cheek.

Honey, growing ever more flustered, let out a nervous chuckle as they pushed Guy away and accepted the gifts.

AWWWWHDWSAIHDGDKDSBIDS

ITS HAPPENING

OMG

NO

DID HE KISS THEM??

WHERE IS THE CLIP I NEED TO SEE THAT AGAIN

When you’re so lonely you’re living vicariously through someone in your screen

UH YEAH THATS THE POINT

OF COURSE

I GOT THE CLIP I GOT IT

Chat wouldn’t stop talking about it for the entire rest of the stream.

And for the next 4 streams after that...

—

Chat knows that Guy is important to Honey. No other roommate of theirs has ever become such a big part of their life, everyone knows that they have to be something more.

They stopped bugging Honey about it after a year. It's just kind of common knowledge that these two have a lot of chemistry, but asking straight up about their relationship won't work.

Not that having an answer would change anything, Chat loves seeing how happy Honey is with Guy.

—

It took a little over a year for Honey to agree, but finally they are streaming a game with Guy!!

They're playing Raft. Honey in their streaming room, and Guy in the living room. They're communicating through discord, and Chat is having a blast.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Did you finish building that engine yet?" Honey asked, filling a chest with some items.

"No, I thought you were going to do it," Guy answered.

"I literally told you to go ahead and make one two minutes ago!"

"I was busy distracting the shark while you were scavenging all that shit underwater!"

We should get them couples counciling

Guy can't keep being shark bait ooh ah ah 😭😭

I still don't understand the point of this game

It's his destiny

Raft

raft

The point is raft

RAFT

"Honey, I think I'm dying. My hunger bar is low."

"Then eat something, we have plenty of food."

"I don't think I can make it back in time," Guy whined.

"Wh- where are you??"

You could practically hear Guy's pout, "I went back on the island because you were mad at me."

"I am not mad at you," Honey responded, exasperated, "where are you at on the island?"

"Uhmm... I'm in a place with lots of trees."

"Okay, I'm bringing you some shark meat."

"The shark is dead?"

"Yeah I killed it."

[HONEY] MOVE FASTER WE CANT LET HIM DIE

They are playing the game so wrong I am ripping my hair out

Tip: multiple sails will make you go faster

They can play however they want to 😡

The only right way to do anything is the [Honey] and Guy way

"Oh shi-" Guy started, "I'm dead."

"You're fiiine."

"No, my character just collapsed from hunger."

"Don't be dramatic, I'm almost there."

"I'm not being dramatic!! I died!!!"

"A little death never killed anybody."

Honey found Guy's character, limp on the ground, and picked him up.

"Alright, you big baby, I'll take you to the bed."

"Oooooh," Guy sang impishly, "you're carrying me to bed?"

"Yep."

"What are you gonna do with me once we get there?"

"When we get there, you are gonna build that goddamn engine!"

Upon arrival to the raft, Honey discovered something...

"Where the fuck is the bed??"

Guy coughed out a laugh, "oh, uhm- I might've taken it with me when I left."

"Why would you do that!?!?"

"Because you were mad at me!!!"

"I swear to god-" Honey dropped Guy's carcass on the raft and went to collect materials to make another bed.

"Honeeeeey," Guy whined, "this wooden floor is hard."

Honey sighed, "I'm making you a bed, hold on."

"Come lay underneath meeee."

AGDKSGAKBFK

Boi he wants them under him 👀👀

Can't believe they let Guy die, I'll never forgive them for this 😢🤧😖 /lh /j

Our boy really stepped up his flirting game 😳😳😳

Too bad [Honey] is too oblivious

They're not oblivious, they're an asshole

A distinct sound of sharp teeth chomping into their hard work caught Honey's attention.

"Fuckin' hell," they murmured, "the stupid shark is back."

"Hurry up making the bed and I can kill it," Guy offered.

"I thought you were making the bed," Honey retorted.

Guy scoffed, "Honey!!!!"

"I gotta stab the shark, hold on."

Cold blooded

Yeah

They don't deserve Guy I'm gonna kidnap him

That shark is an endangered species!!!

DoNT YOU DARE GUYNAP OUR BELOVED BOY

Finally, finally, Honey returned and placed Guy's character on the bed. He sprang up immediately.

Guy's cheerful voice started up, "yayyy, thank you Hone-" and was cut off with a yelp.

The shark had glitched through the bottom of the raft and attack Guy. It scared him half to death, but Honey?

Honey was laughing hysterically.

And it was music to Guy's ears.

Gasping for breath, they kept trying to say something, but continuously fell into a fit of giggles.

Guy was barely able to form his own words without laughing, trying to feign offense at his honey's joy in seeing him hurt. But hearing them laugh so heartily? He couldn't help but melt.

And he didn't want to just hear it, he wanted to see it.

"I'm coming to get you, Honey!" He announced, just before darting towards their room.

"No, no no!" They tried to object, but it was too late as Guy came bursting in.

They were in his arms and on the floor in an instant, tears streaming down their face as they tried to breathe.

Their face hurt from smiling, and they tried to calm down, but as soon as their breathing slowed Guy started to tickle them.

"Guy-! No!! Stop it!" They squealed and squirmed, but to no avail. Their previous laughing fit left them exhausted.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I feel like we shouldn't be watching this

HES SO CUTE????

GUY FACE REVEAL!!!!!

EVERYONE SHIELD YOUR EYES

TURN OFF YOUR DEVICES THIS IS ILLEGAL

Wait I think I've seen him before!

When all settled down, Guy and Honey were nothing but a mess of tangled limbs on the floor, just barely out of frame.

"I love you, Honey," he said softly.

Honey smiled, "I love you too."

—

When the couple realized that Guy was no longer anonymous, Honey made him start carrying pepper spray while he worked.

Gotta keep the boy safe.

The End.

A/N: Thank you for reading the Streamer!Honey series ♡ I've loved writing it, and it makes me so happy that you all loved it as well!

[bellossom]

My Dad's like "aw we can't keep 3 cats it's too much Soo was only being fostered" BUT I LOVE HEEEER 😭

[suitov]

Makoto: Hey, hottie!

Nagito:

Nagito: Oh! Me?

Makoto, chin in hand, leaning, trying his best to do the eyebrows: I don't see any other stunningly beautiful men heeeere.

Izuru, nonbinarily: (I see one other but he's busy flirting.)

Makoto: We've got a surprise for yooou.

Nagito: A... huh?

Makoto: Noooo! He's too cute blushing, Izuru. You'll have to say it.

Izuru: As a reward for doing so well at not self-deprecating, we are taking you to the spa.

Nagito: Wh-- huh. Huh!!!

Makoto: So get your coat, sexy legs!

Nagito: A... are... you coming too...

Izuru: Makoto is. I will join you for the sauna part later because I don't feel like letting humans touch me.

Izuru: (or. perceive my presence.)

Makoto: And did you notice he didn't try to say he doesn't deserve it? That deserves a kissy. Mwah.

Izuru: It does indeed deserve a littol kissle. Mwah.

Nagito: This is bullying... I'm being bullied by Hopes...

Makoto: And loving it.

Nagito, as smug as a cat: Yeah. <3