#i thought i was just crazy but it turns out that a significant amount of my problems over the past year have been symptoms of ocd! ok!

[hero-dualies-3]

fuck. ok i guess

[alexiapp]

Next Step With You

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and Alexia finally have the talk about Kids…

Note: I’ve been gone for so fucking long because of how insanely busy i’ve been but, i’m totally hoping on posting constantly and not keeping empty promises 😭..i’ve had an insane amount of writers block also so keep that in mind!! This isn’t my best work but it’ll have to do !

You never thought that you would be in love. You thought you were unlovable or maybe incapable of finding your ‘true one’. You presumed that maybe it was your strong personality or your high standards that caused these problems. You always had trouble with relationships, and had a couple horror stories when it came to your past love life. You always that you were the problem, until you met Alexia. She made you feel something that you never thought you would be able to experience. You felt giddy inside, and content. There wasn’t a dull moment between her and I.

Alexia was charming, and very charismatic and she also has a strong personality which drew you into her. Recently you guys have been entering a new chapter of your relationship. This year would be marking the 4th year you have been together. You couldn’t see your life without Alexia, it just wouldn’t feel right. You wanted to bring new milestones to you guys relationship. Everything you envision had Alexia in it.

You wanted to add an addition to you guys relationship badly..You wanted to build a family between the two of you. You only started feeling this way until you saw how attentive Alexia was towards kids, it always made you wonder how she’d be if you guys had kids. You knew deep down in your heart that Alexia would be an amazing mother, but you didn’t know if Alexia wanted to take that next step with you or if she was even ready. It’s something you’ve been hesitant to bring up, these loud thoughts always stayed in the back of your mind. You don’t wanna scare her away..imagine how crazy you’d looked if she didn’t feel the same way..i mean what if she thought you were a total nut case. This steered you away from Alexia, making you kind of cold and distance.

This situation made you second guess a lot of things. You took an immature approach, usually the average person would talk it out with there significant other in an healthy manner, but you being you, were quite stubborn and decided to isolate yourself. You started declining her offers to go out when she put the idea out there. You guys once long text messages turned into short and brief on your end no matter how hard the poor woman tried to carry the conversation.

You assumed Alexia didn’t notice how cold you’ve been ..Oh boy were you wrong. She was was in deep stress her mind was constantly racing wondering what she could’ve possibly done wrong. Trying to remember moments where she could’ve possibly said the wrong thing that might’ve hurt or offended you in any way. She was determined to get to the bottom of this and handle it quickly, she genuinely couldn’t take not having you around any longer.

After settling down and drowning in her thoughts she decided the only way to get your attention is by catching you at in unexpected moment. She decided she’d venture to your apartment without giving you any head’s up. She didn’t want you to find another excuse to brush her off and ignore her, she wanted to talk to you and get you back. She was determined and ready to do whatever it takes.

The determined blonde quickly grabbed her phone and car keys headed straight for your flat ready to corner you.

You were brought out of a day dream when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You got up and walked over to your door with confusion written all over your face. You weren’t expecting a visitor or any packages. Shock washed over you when you were met with a very agitated and worried blonde. The last person you wanted to see.

Your once confused face was replaced with a very shocked expression.

��Um..hi?” you muttered out in surprise at what you were faced with.

“Why have you been ignoring me” Said the hazel eyed woman as she pushed through into your apartment door.

“i..i haven’t been, i’ve just been very busy i-“ you said as you staggered your words.

“Don’t like to me, you know how much i hate when people lie” the blonde woman said cutting you off in your lousy excuse as to why you haven’t been very present in you guys relationship.

“You’ve been brushing me off, you’ve been texting me less and less. I want to know what i did wrong so i could fix it”. She said with fury in her voice.

“There’s nothing you can do, to stop me from me feeling how i feel right now Alexia” You said nervously.

“Then what is it! I need to know what it is so we can fix it. I want us to fix this” she said waving her hand between you and her.

“I feel like if i tell you what it is, our relationship would be over” you said with a meek expression.

“amor whatever it is we can try and get past it, i just have to know” she said gently as she walked towards you grabbing your hands as a form of comfort. She could tell you were nervous about what you wanted to say next.

“There’s things that i want to do in our relationship that you might not be ready for Alexia, and i don’t want that to jeopardize what we have.” You said conflicted on weather you should open up to her or not

“Hey, no matter what is bothering you, we can fix it and hopefully move past it..i promise” she said as she rubbed her thumb across my hand.

“I want us to have kids..i want to have kids with you, and i didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off i didn’t want you to think i’m so crazy person. I see myself starting a family with you..” You said with fear in your voice. You were almost quivering with fear on how she would react. You were shut down when you heard the woman in front of you hysterically laugh.

Oh no…she thought you were a joke, she must think you’re a loser..you told yourself, emotions bathing in a pool insecurity. You broke your hand away from her turning away in rejection. “ I knew this would happen, i just knew you wouldn’t take me seriously” you said with hurt and regret in your voice.

You turned your body away from her not wanting her to see how hurt you truly were.

“I’m sorry, come here” she said trying to make you turn towards her.

“i’m not laughing at you about what you said, i’m laughing because why wouldn’t you think i want that also?” she said chuckling lightly. She placed her fairly large hands on her face cupping your cheeks softly and said “why would i want to do that. There isn’t anyone i wouldn’t rather start a family with” she said shaking her head at your ridiculousness.

“I just thought that maybe you’d think that we’re moving to fast, i was just scared” you said looking into her hazel eyes.

“vale, firstly their isn’t anyway i could see life without you..let alone my future with you not being in it, if you told me how you felt ahead of time this wouldn’t be our outcome” she said has she brushed her thumb against your cheekbone

“Amor, you have to communicate with me when you’re feeling this vale ?” she said shaking her head to try to get me to understand. Which i nodded in response.

I leaned in and pecked the blonde’s lips, you were suddenly thrown over her shoulder, making you giggle in surprise “Let’s practice making that baby sí!” as she carried you to your apartment bedroom.

I’ll grammar check later !!

[blackmoonoracle]

PICK A CARD - WHAT'S BEING HIDDEN FROM YOU?

PILE ONE Channeled song: Paint the Town Red - Doja Cat

Some of you may be pregnant without knowing, of course this doesn't apply to everyone but that's certainly a thing for someone. For some of you it could be a dream you've been working on cultivating since childhood beginning to take root into reality. Being able to take some kind of forward movement that allows you freedom. Some of you may be developing a deeper relationship with a sibling or child family member as well. Maybe a family member could be pregnant as well. There's definitely a vibe of fertility and joy here. Something being built from the ground up as well. For some of you it could be a business you're trying to develop. Or even a dream career, or getting into a school or some kind of huge positive development in your life. You might not see it yet, but the tables are absolutely going to be turning in your favor. You may be exploring more, and find opportunity to express your emotions. I see this group may be learning to develop better boundaries. There could be people trying to create blockages in your forward movement. I see however that you are learning to depend more on your own thoughts, feelings, and overall discernment. Independence is absolutely being developed here, for some of you it could be that you are maturing into a new phase of your life and self expression that you're not seeing as well. I feel like there's a need here to really acknowledge the amount of growth you've achieved. Yeah, there's some major positive shifts happening here. If you've maybe been feeling stagnant or stuck, especially due to family having control over your finances or actions I see a lot of freedom coming here. You've developed some kind of discipline, or possibly self reliance that you previously may have felt was unattainable.

I think that's about it for you guys pile one! sorry it's short.

PILE TWO

Channeled Song: IDGAF - Drake ft Yeat

I feel like there are a lot of people who may not particularly have good intentions towards you pile 2. There could even be an air and water sign woman working together to create some kind of binding on your financial stability. What's crazy though is that I see it's not even able to manifest into the physical realm. The worst that they're able to do is exacerbate your limiting beliefs regarding financial stability. LOLLL, weaaaaak.

You may end up speaking your truth regarding some kind of situation soon as well. I see that there may also be a reveal of whoever these people are that have been trying to meddle in your finances. You may be in hermit mode currently, or seeking to isolate from people for the most part. There seems to be a lot of speculation around what you're up to and what you're doing pile 2. People could even be arguing over you. You may be leaving behind some sort of belief system that was at some point a core piece of your ideology. Some kind of realization is going to come that will bring a significant amount of balance into your life. I'm also hearing your body though, which is interesting. So there's some major balance coming into play here for you. It's sooo weird, because it feels like there are a lot of people who have it out for you. I see here that there is an emperor type energy that is very lost. This person may be trying to manifest you into their lives against your will? I just feel like a lot of this pile is likely confirmations, as it's clear to me you all are tapped the fuck in. Seeing as the high priestess has come out. I feel that you may not be aware that there is either a father figure, or older man who is doing spellwork or manifestation work on you. I feel that it's important for you to set energetic boundaries with people. First person shooter just came on, and it was the part where he said "dont trust everything that you saw on IG" so this person could be stalking you on instagram? I feel like they're driving themselves mad trying to figure out what the hell is going on in your life. For some of you they may not be older, but they may be very controlling or authoritative in some way. Someone with an ego that is larger than life. I heard "where in the world is carmen san diego" so what may be hidden from you is that there are a lot of people with their eyes on you pile 2. People may sense that you are about to do something big? I see here that you will be in a comfortable position. You are about to put an end to something, this feels like setting boundaries and speaking your piece. I also see that you are overcoming some sort of lack mindset that you struggle with. You are absolutely developing into a new person right now. I see here that what you don't know is that your shadow is a huge piece of how you receive and download psychic information. There's something about being deeply impressionable, but learning discernment and therefore being able to use this receptivity to glean hidden information. I'm also feeling something about mind reading here? This pile could be developing the gift of telepathy. I'm feeling very much Taurus rising energy here, off the strength of the fact that this is absolutely giving scorpio in the 7th house energy. With this capability to just read into the depths of the people around you. Seeing deep into the minds of others. What's being hidden from you is that more often than not you are in fact reading people to filth. I think that it may upset people when you are right for some reason. It's like there's this competitive energy towards you. I heard "keep up" like people are trying to keep up with you, or they're trying to outdo you so that you feel like you have to keep up with them. Regardless, I do see that through processing, acknowledging and accepting the hidden aspects of your personality you will find deep fulfillment and even financial gain! How interesting.

PILE THREE

Channeled Song: Highs & Lows - Chance the Rapper

Some sort of information is being hidden from you pile 3, but it's not because of anything outside of you. It's because you overthink shit like baaaaad. I heard "8" so the number 8 could be significant here somehow. You're being asked to maybe step back, your ego could be blocking your ability to think clearly. There's an emphasis on teamwork here, I feel that this pile has a verrrryy hard time taking criticism. What's being hidden from you is that your ego exceeds your knowledge, and that you may need to find a better balance within yourself. I heard something also about meddling, some of you may struggle with envy or jealousy.

To be honest pile 3, I feel like you really need to learn to allow things to flow. There's some sort of link to familial trauma, or control issues rooting from the family that have resulted in this outlook on life. Perhaps you could be rather inflexible in your ideology. Very set in your ways. I see that what you don't see is that a tower moment is coming in order to shift your perspective. I kind of see it as like- for example in football being tackled. I see you taking it on the chin and getting back up and continuing to go on. Don't be so stubborn, and learn to release bitterness. You may be grieving a perceived loss regarding some sort of project you're very passionate about. Or even possibly just feeling exhausted regarding this project. I feel that you guys are in a deep, and brooding, and veryyyyy aggressive energy in order to protect yourself. I'm seeing like crows in a parking lot circling scraps of food.

You could have had to fight for everything in life- and now spirit is asking you to sit back and allow shit to unfold. What's being hidden is that by creating a better work life balance, and taking better care of yourself that you will be able to get over this bump in the road concerning your financial stability. Transmuting your fear and greed into security and generosity will deeply help you in moving onward. I see here that you could be feeling stuck on a standstill. Learn to relax a little, things don't have to constantly be so serious. You have a lot of blessings coming in, so just sit tight and let it come in. <3 You're gonna be just fine. Better than fine honestly! It's going to be okay, I promise. :3 One more thing actually, there's a line in the channeled song that goes "The best things in life on the opposite side of fear".

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.29

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

There’s nothing like the warmth of a home-cooked meal. Especially in comparison to the mediocre meals you were cooking for yourself. You like to think it heals a little part of your soul with each bite you take. 

Your mother doesn't question why you suddenly accepted her offer home after months of refusing but you have a feeling she might know. She’s always had weird physic mom abilities. At first, you thought you could get away with acting normal but the look she gave you when you got in her car at the airport told you you’d been caught.

Since that moment your mother has been doing an exceptional job at distracting you and you’ll never be able to express just how grateful you are for her. 

The few days that you’ve been home your mother’s been parading you around town, showing you what’s new and telling you stories of all the crazy things you’d do in every building, playground, and park. When you're home, your mother finds excuses to give you small brushes of physical affection and you don’t realize just how lonely living by yourself has gotten until you woke up to waffles and a kiss on the forehead.

You have a small inkling that she’s behind the occasional disappearance of your phone as well but you don’t comment on it. It’s a welcome break from the chaos of social media but you know you can’t avoid your problems forever and reality hits one afternoon when your mom is out grocery shopping and your phone dings with a notification.

You pick it up to see multiple news outlets blowing up about the upcoming press conference the government will be holding to explain what happened to the Avengers and you all but rush to turn the news on the TV.

There are a few unfriendly-looking government officials in suits and balding hair standing in front of a podium full of microphones and before any of them have even spoken there’s a flash of cameras from somewhere behind the camera.

One of the taller white men steps forward and the room goes silent. You’re on the edge of your seat with anticipation and you’re sure everyone else watching is as well. The man in the suit looks less than excited to be there and you can already tell by the look on his face that you’re not going to like what he has to say. Your stomach sinks in.

“I know this has been greatly anticipated by the public and I’m sure you all have a lot of questions so I'll get straight to the point.” Another camera shutter clicks. “ Around a month ago we approached the Avengers group about the amount of destruction they left behind after their battles. We felt the damage was too significant to let it continue happening, so we came up with the proposal that the Avengers agree to government supervision and limitations to minimize the damages.” 

You let out a low hiss through your teeth as murmurs fill the conference room. You’re sure most of the Avengers wouldn’t have taken kindly to that situation. If you’re honest you’re surprised a full-out fight hadn’t started. It only makes you more nervous for what’s to come.

“Unfortunately, a few members of the group didn’t agree with our terms and have since fled to avoid responsibility” Your blood boils at the way he’s talking about the world's greatest heroes, like they’re teenagers who broke the neighbors' window. You’re sure they’re purposely leaving out details of their contract to make the Avengers look bad. “Due to this circumstance,” A woman steps from behind him and hands him a file and he opens it and begins lifting picture after picture “The following Avengers are now considered wanted felons. If you see any of them please contact your local authorities-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as the room erupts into chaos. Reporters are shouting, cameras are flashing left and right and questions are being flung at the uncomfortable-looking officials. 

You practically shoot up from your seat in outrage. The Avengers are wanted felons? What was the government thinking? Just because they wanted control over the world's strongest and smartest? You hated to think what the world would descend into now that criminals not only didn’t have to fear the Avengers, but could call to get them arrested as well.

Security steps in and the room calms a little but reporters refuse to let the subject go, raising their hands to question such an idiotic decision.

“With the Avengers gone, what are you going to do about the influx in crime?” One asks, and another white man steps up to the podium to answer.

“We will be doubling the police force in every state to ensure the crime rates go back down” The reporters don’t seem satisfied, another raising a counter-question

“What about supernatural criminals and weapons?” The man swallows nervously and you’re sure a cartoonish bead of sweat is about to trail down his forehead when he speaks up with less confidence than before.

“Rest assured our officers are being trained to handle any possible situations, and we will be arming them with state-of-the-art weapons” You practically groan at his words, and your phone dings with notifications from various sites. Your friends from the Stark party are texting you about their outrage, news outlets are blowing up, and your mother wants to know if you want any cereal. 

You text her yes and respond to your other texts, tuning out the bullshit coming from the TV until pictures of the ‘wanted felons’ appear on the TV. Over half of the Avengers pictures are on the screen with the words “Wanted” under them and your eyes unconsciously drift toward Nat as a woman speaks

“We haven’t been able to get a hold of any of the aforementioned Avengers so if you have any information about their whereabouts please call-” you practically scoff at the TV. Of course, they couldn’t get a hold of Natasha Romanoff, if she wanted to disappear you’d never see or hear from her again-

Your head spins. A dangerous thought sneaks into your mind and despite your best efforts you can’t block it out. The government official had said they tried to make this deal around a month ago- around the same time Nat stopped responding to you.

With your heart leaping to your throat, you immediately rush to grab your computer. It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered Nat’s name being Natasha but you hadn’t wanted to plaster Natasha’s face onto this total stranger, and you definitely didn't want to project your feelings for your celebrity crush onto a real person who had nothing to do with her.

You never let yourself go down that hole, especially because the more you talked to Nat the less she seemed like the stoic Natasha Romanoff you knew of. 

You still refuse to believe it until you can prove it though, so the only thing you can think to do is pull up every single publicized mission the Avengers have gone on and open your phone to Nat’s contact. You ignore the painful jerk your heart gives as you scroll past your pleading and Nat’s last “I’m sorry” text until you find the last time she said she had to go away for ‘work’.

She’d been gone for two weeks but still managed to send you a quick ‘goodnight’ text on one of those days. It made your whole week that she’d been thinking of you even while she was working and still chose to text you even though she could get in trouble for using her phone. 

You scroll through the missions until you find one with a similar date. A mission in Eastern Europe that took the three of the Avengers two weeks to complete. It doesn’t state which Avengers so you brush it off as a coincidence and scroll up further, searching for another ‘work’ message.

Half an hour later you have at least fifteen ‘coincidences’ that line up almost perfectly with when Nat would leave you on delivered. You want to believe it but you’re at war with yourself.

Something joyful tugs at your heart and you shake your head to try and get rid of the images of Nat smiling on the other side of the phone. 

The other part of you is astonished you’d even believe such a thing. Why would Natasha continue texting you? There was no way she’d trust something as childish as ‘number neighbors’. And if she did believe that… why wouldn’t she just block your number?

Although you suppose she did try and get you to stop texting her, you just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Suddenly all of her threats feel a little more serious. 

For a split second, there’s relief. The weight of the fear that she’d ghosted you because she was tired of you lifted from your shoulders. The fear of never knowing her face or what she sounded like was gone. Instead, it was replaced by anxiety. The woman you loved was a wanted criminal AND an Avenger. You don’t know if it’s better or worse that you can read all of the texts in her voice now.

Your brain is screaming at you while your heart is frolicking in a field full of flowers.

The woman you’ve had a fictional crush on for years is actually the woman you fell in love with online, surprise!

Still, you’re worried you’re getting a little ahead of yourself so you try to calm down and scour the internet for more proof. You find an old video from when the Avengers did a live slumber party for charity and zoom in on Nat’s pajamas. Yep, the same gray as the photo of her pants she’d sent you from way back when you first met. 

The first photo she ever sent you and it was truly a gift to receive but big deal- lots of people wore gray to bed! 

The thought of gifts reminds you of the surveillance footage the restaurant promised to send you months ago when Nat bought you dessert. God, you really should read your emails. After scrolling through work emails and companies advertising their sales you find a very old email from the restaurant with the footage from their back alley. 

You can’t believe you forgot to look at this.

Sure enough, as the waiter had said, you can only see a hoodie from that angle but you’ll take anything you can get. You pause and play the video at every millisecond until a sliver of a design is visible and you reverse image search until a picture of that exact hoodie pops up.

You pull up every single member of the Avengers’ Instagram's until you see a picture of Clint Barton wearing what seems to be the same hoodie only two months ago. It’s a stretch, you’re sure anyone could own that hoodie but at this point, you’ve already fully convinced yourself it’s her. You feel like an FBI agent with how deep you’re digging for evidence and the thought reminds you of one of the first things you ever said to her

“What, are you an FBI agent or something?”

“Something like that”

You were truly the world’s biggest idiot at this point. Natasha had been trying to tell you at the Stark party, hadn’t she? You knew the joke sounded familiar. 

A sort of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she spoke her next sentence “Well I’m no FBI agent” It feels like an inside joke and you're trying to pinpoint where you remember it from but after a few seconds you shake it off and blame it on the alcohol. 

Not to mention how hesitant she’d been to talk to you in the beginning. She was a super spy! Of course, she wouldn’t believe you got her number by coincidence. Did that mean that she knew who you were from the beginning? She probably knew everything about you from your apartment number to your first pet. 

But…if she knew everything about you and still chose to stay and talk to you then maybe there was the smallest, tiniest chance she liked you back the way you liked her.

Why else would someone like her spend every day putting up with your antics?

All this time you’ve been wondering who she was and why she left you and now you have an answer you have no idea what to do with. It’s not like she’d be at Avengers Tower right now, nobody knew where she was. And she hadn’t responded to any of your messages. How could you tell her you knew? How could you tell her that you weren’t mad anymore? Will you ever be able to confess how you feel to her in person?

You don’t even realize you're crying until a drop of water lands on your computer. You were overwhelmed with so many different emotions; joy, worry, love. The idea of loving Natasha Romanoff was scary but loving Nat? Loving Nat was easy. And you have to keep reminding yourself that they’re the same person. That The Black Widow was a persona while Nat was her real self. 

The sound of the front door doesn’t register in your mind until you hear your mother calling your name. You turn to look at her with your tear-stricken face and her expression softens as she takes you in.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” she drops her groceries and makes her way over to you, wrapping you in her arms immediately. The way she says your name with so much love reminds you of the last time you heard Natasha’s voice-

“Take care of yourself, Y/n.”

The sentence only makes you cry harder and your mom soothingly rubs up and down your back. She doesn’t know you’ve just had the discovery of a lifetime or that you accidentally fell in love with a superhero. She just comforts you as you cry in her arms.

“Oh honey, it'll be okay”

You hope she’s right.

Pt.30

A/n: This chapter took a lot longer to write because I wanted to really get Y/n's reaction right- sorry it's late! ~ Starry

---Taglist--

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[nico-di-genova]

6: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Or

46: “Tell me a secret.”

- or any of the ones that inspire lestappen pretty please 🤞😘🥰

6. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" WARNINGS: NSFW, like in every sense of the word

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed,” Max asks nonchalantly as he’s kicking off his shoes, one hand balanced against the wall above the light switch, the other on his hip.

“Besides the obvious I mean.”

Behind him, Charles shifts against the sheets, rolls onto his back and props his elbows up behind him so he can sit up and cast Max an annoyed look.

“I cannot be romantic? I thought you liked my ass, non?”

Max shrugs, “Of course I do, just wondering why it’s out in my bed at three in the afternoon.”

Charles pouts, sticks his bottom lip out, like he is offended his ass is not being better received. Max laughs, leans down to kiss the petulant look off Charles’ face before pulling away and resuming stripping languidly, pulling his bomber jacket off his shoulders like he has all the time in the world.

Charles makes an affronted sound, “Our bed.”

Max feels something flutter in his stomach, smiles in acknowledgement, “Yes, okay. Our bed. That you are naked in at three in the afternoon – with the curtains open.”

Max’s apartment, their home, sits high above the street. A penthouse that costs him too much for how little time they spend in it. He’s not really worried about the neighbors. He just likes to see the way Charles’ annoyance deepens, the press of his lips into a thin line and eyes that flash with obvious irritation.

“I am surprising you.”

“I do not like surprises.”

“I think you will like this one.”

The flight from Milton Keynes to Nice had been exhausting, but Max wasn’t tired enough to miss the obvious teasing, the goading as Charles’ voice lilts heavy with want. He also wasn’t tired enough to deny himself the simple pleasure of his boyfriend’s cock in his mouth.

He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed, hands grabbing Charles thighs until he’s got enough grip to pull the man to him. Until he’s close enough that Max can press a chaste kiss to the side of his knee, his inner thigh where his thumbprint is still fading, working his way upward as Charles’ breath stutters in his throat, somehow obscenely loud in the quiet of the space.

“So is this how you want to spend all of summer break?” Max asks, pausing his exploration of Charles’ body, but not pulling away. His breath is warm against Charles’ skin, the promise of something more with enough edge to make Charles a little crazy with the thought of it.

Teasing him is so fun, maybe the best part of being able to have the man at all. Yeah, the sex is great, but the way he can take Charles apart simply by picking at the exposed parts of him, that’s orgasmic on its own. Charles sounds so pretty when he whines, Max thinks it is probably his favorite noise.

“Because I’m not against it, Charlie. Keeping you here, spread out for me.”

Charles keens.

Max knows if he looked now he’d see a blush spreading across the Monégasque’s cheeks. Instead, he presses his lips back to the soft flesh of Charles thigh, kisses him innocently, and then bites.

Charles jerks beneath him, a startled cry filling the empty space of the room. It is Max’s firm hands on his thighs that hold him down onto the mattress.

“You- you are a menace.”

Max laughs, “You started it.” He licks the spot where Charles’ skin is already turning an irritated red, like an apology.

One of Charles’ hands finds its way into Max’s hair, scratching lightly along the scalp. Max chases the feeling until he’s shifted upward, his attention pulled to Charles’ dick dripping precum against his stomach. His stomach that’s already wet with a significant amount of it.

Max chokes a little on his own spit.

“How long have you been like this, baby?”

He pictures Charles hard and leaking while Max had his final debrief with the team before the official start of break. Pictures Charles whining for him while Max was sipping ginger ale from first class. Not coming, or touching himself, because Max knows what the aftereffects of an orgasm looks like on Charles and none of the signs are there.

“Too long,” Charles whines.

Max glances up at him, finally takes in the flush of his cheeks and his bitten raw lips. The way his pupils are blown wide already, before Max has even touched him.

“Please,” Charles begs.

Max admires his resolve, because he nearly comes in his jeans just from hearing Charles plead. Instead, he takes Charles’ dick in his hand and licks precum from the tip like an apology, while Charles tenses and a cry of relief spills out of him.

It’s a cry that only grows in volume when Max sucks Charles into his mouth and swallows down to the root.

“Fuck.”

Charles’ hand in his hair pulls, instinctively, unthinkingly, until Max can feel the sting of follicle being threatened to be pulled from root. Charles’ fingernails are pinpricks against his scalp. Max presses his tongue to the underside of Charles’ cock, the vein there, just to make Charles pull harder.

“Fuck. Merde. Fuck.”

Max wonders if Italy knows he has their golden boy spewing profanities like water from a fountain. Wonders if the Tifosi realize he can take their predestined apart with just his tongue and a barely there touch of his teeth to Charles’ cock. The empty threat of pain that will never be fulfilled. He wonders if they are jealous, hopes they are.

“Max, Max.”

Max is not a religious man, but he does love to worship at the altar of Charles, so maybe he is not that different from the Italian men to begin with. Charles pants his name and Max thinks it is probably the closest he will get to heaven.

Through his lashes, he glances up at Charles, reverence and adoration written across his features. Charles’ hips stutter off the mattress, his own gaze heavy and hazy when he looks down at Max with open love. Max wants to drown in him. The taste of him, the scent of him, wants to choke himself on the length of Charles’ cock until there is nothing left.

“Unh, I’m-,” Charles cries, before the words get stuck in his throat and he’s gasping out another high whine. His head falls back to expose the long column of his neck. Max is going to leave marks there later, plot out a course to Charles’ mouth simply because he can.

He’s close.

Max pulls off just enough to lick spit and precum from Charles’ slit before sucking back down and letting Charles thrust up into the warmth of his mouth. There is familiarity to it, like Charles is used to making a space for himself in Max’s throat.

He keeps one hand on Charles’ waist, the other splayed across the solid expanse of his abdomen so he can feel when Charles tenses. Charles’ skin is warm, sun-kissed tan against his palm, hot with the built-up need to release.

Max presses against his stomach, hollows out his cheeks, and makes a choked noise just so Charles will feel the hum of it. It sends him over the edge with a cry and Max’s name being gasped to the ceiling like a prayer. The hand in Max’s hair tightens to a fist, holds him down until the warm bitter taste of come stops hitting the back of his throat and Charles’ cock stops twitching in his mouth.

He does press his teeth there then, lightly, just to hear the hiss of oversensitivity from Charles’ lips.

When Charles falls back against the bed, he takes the sharp point of his nails against Max’s scalp with him. Max pulls off his softening dick and a bead of spit follows him. Charles watches through his lashes, until the string of saliva breaks, his lips already curling into a contented smile.

He reaches, lazy hand grabbing at the air, long fingers curling in the empty rays of dusty sunlight, and Max goes willingly.

“A nice surprise, then?” Charles mummers against his temple when they’re curled up together on the mattress. Charles is already running a teasing finger along the waistband of Max’s too tight jeans, dipping just below the denim with a promise.

Max hums, nods, swallows so he can taste Charles at the back of his throat.

“You should be naked in my bed more often, all the time maybe.”

Charles pinches the exposed skin at his hipbone and Max hisses.

“Our bed.”

Max turns his head, angles forward until he can kiss Charles with all the softness and vulnerability he can muster. He feels Charles smile against him.

“Our bed.”

[skipper1331]

The drunk and the sober // Jessie Fleming

a/n: based off this request. Hope you enjoy it.

Winning the league was always a phenomenal feeling and the party afterwards even more. Everyone could let go and drink. One thing you loved to do. You don't do it regularly, only on special occasions, a glass of wine or a beer for a birthday but let go completely? Only after significant wins. The league title was on of them.

You had a few drinks through the night, slightly tipsy (more than tipsy - you wouldn’t admit that) but when Sam challenged you who could drown more shots in one minute the competition started and the competitive self you were, you couldn't let her win. So, who would‘ve thought: you won.

But it definitely wasn't a good idea to drink that much in such a short amount of time because as a result, your head was spinning, you were babbling and you couldn't walk properly.

There weren't many sober ones, actually just one person: Jessie. She knew how you would get If alcohol was in your system so she decided not to drink. At least not too much. The whole night she only had one beer.

Seeing the canadian stand by herself, you stumbled your way over to her, your arm flying around her shoulder. Instantly, her right arm went around your back while her left held on to your stomach so you wouldn‘t fall. "You know you’re pretty… pretty amazing" you slurred, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. The brunette blushed like crazy, looking away from you "thank you" she whispered, you didn‘t hear it though. Maybe because it was too loud and her voice too quiet or because you‘re already back at Erins side, drinking a shot yet you couldn‘t leave your eyes off Jess.

"Hi, I’m just planning my future and I wanted to ask you: Are you free for the rest of your life?" you giggled, leaning your body against hers. Again, her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, smiling along. "How do you manage to look so stunning every day? When I look at you, I become speechless." your fingers played with a strand of her hair "you‘re looking at me and you‘re talking" Jessie replied, trying to cover up her flustered state. You looked at her frowning - confused - too much to work for your brain. Walking her back to the nearest wall, you trapped her body between yourself and the wall, your arms next to her head. You gazed down to her lips, biting your own.

Everyone knew there was chemistry and sexual tension between the two of you. "The one thing I can’t resist in this life is your lips so can I borrow a kiss? I promise to give it back." Drunk-you was confident and bold, the attitude you needed when it came to Jessie. Her hand made it‘s way to your cheek, finding a rest "i don‘t kiss drunks" patting your cheek, she grinned. Where did that confidence came from? It was hot. "Just to let you know: I’m not flirting. I’m just being extra friendly to someone who is extra attractive" you declared, pulling her body closer to yours, you wanted to feel her touch.

"Let‘s take you home, my little flirt, you‘re wasted." The canadian slung an arm around you as she supported you on the way out of the bar. Quickly, Jess called an uber, not having her car near as she came with Niamh. "Who did you call?" you asked, not liking that her attention wasn‘t focused on you, "an uber."

Your head fell in the crook of her neck with the intention to hug her, but her neck was so tempting to be kissed, practically begging. You couldn‘t help yourself, tenderly pressing your lips against it. Jess sharply inhaled "Y/n" her voice was breathless. You continued to kiss her neck for a few moments before you pulled back, looking at her. Her cheeks were red, a thing that seemed to have been going on all evening. "Let’s flip a coin. Heads I’m yours. Tails you’re mine." frantically, you searched for a coin, having no luck with finding one. The canadian laughed softly, your expression too cute (furrowed brows and a big pout with puppy dog eyes) "I- I don‘t have a coin," you looked at her, your voice sad, "whatever you‘re mine anyway" you said, your voice back with confidence. Slowly, Jessie couldn‘t take it anymore, her heart was about to explode. Parts of her new, it‘s only the drunk side of you flirting with her and that you‘d probably wouldn‘t remember anything tomorrow but she hoped for it. She hoped you would flirt with her 24/7, charm her, make her feel loved. "The uber is here, come with me" she grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the car "oh, i wish" you mumbled at the verge of falling asleep.

The whole ride your head rested on Jessie‘s shoulder, your eyes closing every now and then.

As the canadian paid the driver, you stumbled your way out of the car to the door of your home. "Hey! Don’t walk without me. I don‘t want you to fall" she wrapped an arm around, "i fell already…" you admitted, gazing in her beautiful eyes as they went big "what? Are you hurt?!" The midfielder scanned over your face, arms, legs, no sign that you were hurt "…for you."

Playfully, she hit your chest, a laugh escaping her while you looked at her as if she hung the stars up in the sky.

"So? Are we going to stay here the whole night?" she questioned, indirectly asking for the door key - you didn‘t get it, looking at her confused, "where is your key?" she clarified her question "in my back poket" you answered, feeling dizzy as you grabbed door knob, the alcohol showing its side effect.

"I‘m going to touch you to get the key, okay?" the innocence in her voice, doing things to you.

"Fuck, Jess, you can touch me anywhere you please"

Not only her face turned red, but also the rest of her body was on fire. Her hand slipped in your back pocket, grabbing the key. Wordlessly, she opened the door, still having a hold on your waist as she walked you in, carefully so you wouldn‘t trip over. Oddly enough, you didn't feel nauseous, just dizzy and lovey-dovey towards Jess. "Let‘s get you to bed" the midfielder almost had to carry you as much weight as you leaned on her, not in the state of mind to walk. She let out a sigh of relief as your body hit the mattress. "Don‘t close your eyes, we need to get you changed" you sat back up, holding your head.

"I‘ll get you a glass of water" not even a minute later, the brunette was back. "Drink up" she said as she held the bottle to your lips. You tried not to spill anything but failed, water droplets spread on your shirt. "Do you like my shirt?" you asked, grinning. "I do-"

"It’s made out of girlfriend material" her cheeks flushed red (annoyed at herself that it happens that often around you), giggling.

She grabbed some clothes out of your drawers before she changed you in to them, ever so gently.

As you were comfortable in bed, Jess covered your body with the duvet. "Please, don‘t go," you whispered in the room, interlacing your fingers together, "Take my clothes and come here," you patted the free side of the bed "i don‘t want you to go home alone. Please stay."

She couldn‘t say no to you, not when you looked so vulnerable and small.

She grabbed an oversized shirt and shorts, quickly changing in to the outfit before she walked to 'her side' of the bed, slipping under the covers. You moved your body close to hers, it was like your body was magically drawn to her. Your head rested on her shoulder, your breath hitting her neck while your legs tangled together, her arms protectively around your small figure. "Can’t wait until tomorrow because you get more and more beautiful every day." was your last thing spoken for the night as you drifted off to sleep, your soft snores filling the dark room. "Sweet dreams…," the midfielder mumbled, pressing a good night kiss on your head, "…I hope i‘m in them."

—————————

Pt. 2 the next morning

—————————

[coal15]

Worth It

This took me 1,000 years longer than it should have, but I finally finished Worth It, Ch.2 of I Never Do This below is an excerpt from Ch.2 (the excerpt is ga, but the fic is a mix of floofy cute and absolute smut)

“I woke up alone." Buck pouted. "How dare you.”

“Will a Denver omelet earn me forgiveness?” Tommy swiveled sideways to reveal a half chopped bell pepper.

“I’m listening.”

“Light on ham, heavy on veggies, average amount of cheese, served with a side of sliced tomatoes fresh off the vine.” Tommy paused and mmmm'd into a long good morning kiss. “The tomatoes turned out really great this year. I was worried 'cause last year they sucked." 

Buck sighed, so love-drunk he may as well have had little cartoon birdies and hearts floating around his head. “I’m gonna get spoiled dating you, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely. I try to spoil all my guests, especially the cute ones.”

"Aw." Buck gave his man a quick peck on the cheek. “Point me to the cheese grater, sir.” The thought of prepping a meal with Tommy made him stupidly giddy. Best morning ever.

Tommy drummed a bare foot on the cabinet door behind him. “In there. Oh, and you might have to dig around in the fridge for the cheese. I’m terrible at keeping it organized.”

In any other situation being confronted by the sight of veggies, condiments, leftovers and so-forth tossed around all willy-nilly would awaken Clipboard Buck with a vengeance, but this time he just shrugged and made a mental note to tackle it later. “Are these green beans from your garden?” he asked, pushing aside an overfilled bag to reveal a block of sharp cheddar. The cheese sat between a takeout container and a bottle of ketchup, but still Buck's focus remained locked on Denver omelets and Tommy.

“No, they’re from Cathy down the road.”

On the counter next to the knife block were four cutting boards of descending size held upright by a glossy ceramic smiling cat figurine wearing an apron and holding a whisk. A kitschy item clashed so harshly with the rest of Tommy’s decor he figured it must have some sort of personal significance. Dating someone sentimental. Another new one for Buck. They worked in comfortable silence for a while until he broke it with “by the way, I would have been here sooner if I hadn't spent like a year trying to get out of that crazy-ass hall." A teasing hip-bump accompanied the comment.

“Uuuugh, sorry." Tommy cringed. "I should have thought to label the doors with post-its before you woke up. I literally have to do that whenever I host parties, it's the only thing I really hate about this place. I have major renovations planned though. Trust me that goddamn nightmare is getting fixed the second I have the budget."

"You gonna hire a crew or go diy?” Buck's entire train of thought screeched to a halt, backed up, and took a sharp left onto the image of Tommy wearing a toolbelt and sledgehammering the shit out of a wall . . . maybe covered in drywall dust and sweat . . . splatters of paint from past projects all over his work clothes. And, and maybe the jeans are hanging really low. Barely perched on his hips so the slightest nudge would-–

“Woohoo!” Tommy whistled, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Oh!” Buck flinched. “Hi, yeah. I’m, I’m back–did you say diy?”

[turnwashingtonsbaddies]

Just to throw in an important observation: it does seem like those last few polls were reblogged much more than the ones in the beginning. The last one, final one, was reblogged 88 times. I’m not trying to defend anybody, I simply think it might be connected to the large number of voters. I reblogged it twice myself and I have 900 followers. I hope that’s the reason and not cheating!

i've gotten a couple of messages since the poll closed, and i'm going to use this ask to give a blanket reply about how i'm proceeding on this situation

today, i went on a bit of an investigation, and basically my conclusion was, yes there likely was someone who cheated in the poll, BUT it would have required an EXTREME effort on their part to flip the poll with as significant of a margin as this one had. their past efforts of doing this have all been in SIGNIFICANTLY smaller polls

the final numbers of today's poll were 372 votes for andre and 529 for washington. for andre to be the rightful winner, at least 158 of the washington votes would have had to be the same person voting over and over on sock accounts. is that possible? technically yes, but honestly if someone is really unwell enough to make 158 sock accs to vote for george washington, maybe they just deserve the dub because how does one even fight that level of crazy lmaooo

also, as mentioned by anon, i have noticed a trend between number of reblogs and number of votes. this poll got more than double the amount of reblogs than the ben and peggy one, and that one had over 500 votes. this poll definitely came across a lot of people's dashboards because it would have been seen by the followers of everyone who reblogged it, and those followers really could be anyone. my blog alone has nearly 600 followers (and even tho not all of my followers are active or real people for that matter, that's still a lot)

i would wager that a significant chunk of the voters were blogs completely unaffiliated with turn or even the broader amrev fandom. i know that i personally have voted in random polls that i see on my dash, even if i'm not the intended audience for them. it would not be shocking to me if washington got a lot of votes because: 1. people saw a the blog they follow asking for them to vote washington, 2. washington is more recognizable to the normies than andre is, 3. people looked at the picture and thought ian kahn's george washington looked hotter than jj field's john andre. and i also do believe that a good chunk of the people who saw this poll probably voted for andre too; he got 372 votes himself after all, which is by no means a small number. it was more votes than ben got in the poll against peggy, and it was more votes than andre himself got when he won against abigail

while there are some measures i could take to re-do the poll and maybe make it more secure, i don't really see much of a point. i blocked the main person who is known for doing this (for reasons that extend even beyond the cheating allegations), but i can't block their fake accounts that i don't know exist, and i cannot stop them from making fake accounts, deleting those accounts, and then making new accounts with the same email just to vote again. at the end of the day, this was just a hottie bracket and it was just for fun. i don't really see much of a point in stressing myself out over this

it's been a pleasure hosting this bracket for everyone, and i hope everyone had fun with it regardless of the results. something about it's the journey, not the destination lol. and congrats to george washington and dilf enjoyers everywhere!!

[theunholybastard]

Hotel California (Sister Imperator x Mr Psaltarian)

Requested by @gogodollie !!! <3

Tags: Workplace Romance, Established Relationship, Sexual Frustration, Mentions Of Drug Use, Rough Sex, Scratching, Hair-Pulling, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Creampie

Sister Imperators screams of ecstasy echoed throughout the hotel room, the sound pouring into the rooms of the unfortunate souls who had to listen to her coming undone from the calculated workings of Mr Psaltarians tongue. That's how the night ended, preluded by marajuana, a rocking performance, hours of painful sexual tension, and a disgusting amount of unprofessionalism. 

Earlier that day, Sister had landed in California with the rest of the band, following them on their tour. Normally, she wouldn't stray far from the comforting walls of her beloved Ministry, but Nihil had practically begged her to come with, to show her how far he had come as Papa, and most importantly, to impress her with his unyielding youth, stamina, and sexual charisma. She didn't care much for the rituals themselves, but it was fun to travel from place to place, to take in new sights and experiences before she had to sit through an hour and a half of Nihil singing about Satan and getting his dick sucked. But there was something back at the Ministry keeping her from fully enjoying herself. Well, someone.

Mr Psaltarian had been working alongside her since the late 50s, back when she had very little significance in the Clergy, and from their very first meeting, they just clicked. It wasn't long till they started fucking, just for stress relief at first, getting a little too high and meeting up in one of their offices after a particularly rough day. But much to the dismay of the normally noncommittal and romance-repulsed Sister and Psaltarian, it soon developed into something more. They had called earlier, awkwardly dancing around the subject of missing one another to avoid their secret love affair being found out by someone passing by, but that brief interaction wasn't enough to quell her yearning. 

Despite how subtle and secretive they thought  they were, quite literally everyone in the Ministry could see through them. It was common knowledge that they were fucking, and while two coworkers fraternizing wasn't technically allowed, and certainly not professional behavior by any means, nobody dared to comment on it. Unbeknownst to the couple, everyone knew their dirty little secret. Everyone except Papa Nihil, but in his defense, he may be a bit stupid. 

He was still under the impression that he had a chance with her, the poor fool! She saw the way he would gawk at her. During meetings, in the middle of rituals, pretty much anytime they were in the same general vicinity together. It was pathetic, really, but also oddly endearing. And sure, he was kinda cute... But she had better things to do with her time. Like Psaltarian. And she did him a lot. 

She stood by the bar at the venue Papa was performing, drink in hand as she watched him move his body to the music in ways that made all the ladies in the audience go crazy. The concert had just started, and she was already bored, lost in thoughts of her special someone. Out of the blue, she felt a presence behind her. Not an uncomfortable, irritating presence like that of a stranger, but a pleasant, familiar one. She turned her head to see him. Psaltarian. As tall and handsome as ever, fighting back a smirk as soon as he caught a glimpse of her face. “Sister.” He greeted casually, the public space restricting their ability to display affection. 

“Mr Psaltarian.” Imperator echoed, unable to help herself from cracking a little smirk. She cleared her throat, composing herself. “What a surprise. I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Well, Papa is my friend. I came to see him perform.” He replied. 

“Really? You came all the way to Los Angeles just to watch Papa perform?” Sister snickered, quirking a brow. Psaltarian paused.

“There are other… benefits of coming here. Benefits I'd like to see soon.” He replied lowly, his voice lightly subjective. It takes every once of restraint the two have not to ravage each other right here, right now. A shiver runs up her spine.

“Maybe you will.” She slyly slipped a hand downwards, dropping an extra room key into his pants pocket. She decided to cease speaking for now, knowing if she were to continue her (not so) subtle flirtations, neither of them would be able to wait till after the concert. They went back from 'focusing' on the show before them. And now they wait.

The time passed agonizingly slow, but it was worth it in the end, once he finally made his way to her hotel room. In an instant, her lips crashed against his, sloppily forcing her tongue down his throat. She has never been this desperate before, she would feel humiliated if anyone other than Psaltarian saw her acting this fucking needy. Psaltarian, though he was better at controlling his emotions, felt the same way, their shared pleasure denied for far too long. Their hands roamed feverishly over each other's bodies, acting as if this was the last time they'd ever see each other again, mindlessly ripping their clothes off till there was nothing but skin pressed against skin. 

He pulled himself away, only to delve his head between her legs, her cunt already sopping wet for him. A deep rumble escaped his lips the moment he tasted her arousal, never has he known a taste any sweeter. Her hands flew to his hair, tangling her fingers in his dark curls. Her slender legs, draped over his shoulders, pull him in closer, seeking more stimulation from his eager mouth. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, each noise that came from her shot straight to the throbbing in his pants. He can't handle this for much longer, as fun as it is to have her squirming and gasping over his skillful tongue. 

He went to sit up, to clamber on top of her and shove himself within her without so much as a second thought, but she wrapped her legs tightly around his head, restricting his movement. “Don’t you fucking dare.” She growled, grinding her hips down against his face. “You can’t just- fuck, s-stop right before you make me cum! F-finish what you started.” Psaltarian grumbled protestingly against her folds, but nonetheless continued his ministrations, more motivated than ever to earn an orgasm from her, so that he may finally feel her warmth around him. 

It didn't take much longer for her to cum, only a few more flicks of his tongue and she was coming undone, a cacophony of sweet moans filling Psaltarians ears along with the obscene sound of him lapping up her juices. As her thighs shook violently around him, her chest heaving up and down rapidly, finally, he had a chance. In her weakened state, he's able to fight his way out of her legs grasp, taking position and lining himself up with her waiting entrance. Pressing the tip against her cunt, he winces slightly at the feeling. Lucifer, she's dripping. 

His length slides in with ease, the stretch causing both of them to gasp in sync, heads lulled back and mouth agape. She whimpers softly, overstimulated and given zero time to catch her breath after that earth shattering orgasm. That was just the beginning, the calm before the storm, only given a split second for her to adjust to his size before he started thrusting, rough and uncaring. The way she clenches and spasms around his cock is addicting, only spurring him on to go faster. He's focused solely on the pleasure he's receiving now, his primal instincts taking over after having to hold himself back for so long. 

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he took her. He could only imagine her face right now, eyes shut tight, blonde strands sticking to her sweat glistened forehead, and sporting a deliciously blissed out expression. He couldn't think about it for too long, in fear the image he had painted in his mind would make him cum too early. Sister Imperator was the kind of woman that could make even the strongest-willed men crumble. Even Psaltarian, who prides himself on his sexual prowess, came within moments of being inside her for the first time. Granted, he was stoned out of his mind when it happened, but it was still embarrassing. She just held that much power. That's why he loved her so much. Because she made him weak. 

“F-fuck! So tight! Spread your legs further for me. Let me feel you.” Psaltarian grunted. She did as she was told, allowing deeper access to her pussy, each thrust now slamming against her cervix. Tears started brimming in her eyes, ruining her perfect makeup, smudging and running down her cheeks. She was a mess, screeching and shaking like a woman possessed, carving up his back with her nails. He reveled in the feeling of his skin breaking by his lovers hand. This, he thought to himself, was her most beautiful state.

“I missed this…” He huffs, breathing in her scent. Sweat, cigarette smoke, and her fruity shampoo; his favorite scent. Sister only whimpered in reply. If she still had the ability to to speak right now, she would be pouring her heart out to him, rambling over how much she thought about him during their time apart, how she came to the thought of him every night during this damned tour. How much she loved him, how she never wishes to leave his side again. But even after this, when her head has cleared, she won't say a word. She doesn't need to. He already knows.

She's close again, he can feel it, her cunt achingly tight and her breathing raspy and labored. He was getting there too, his brutal thrusting growing tired and sloppy. Now it was just a matter of time, a race to the finish line. He tried everything he could to last just a little bit longer, but it was so hard when she was gripping him so insanely fucking tightly, like a snake constricting its prey. He couldn't focus on anything else, not when she was all around him, flooding all of his senses. He feared for a moment he would disappoint her and spill himself before she had the chance to finish, but when her thighs started to wobble once again, he let out a breath of relief.

One last hard slam to her cervix was all it took, a wave of warm wetness pouring over his cock as the dam finally broke, her eyes rolling back as she roared like the lioness she was. It was hard to compare her to anything less than a goddess. Surely this must be what Lilith herself looked like, positively sinful and ethereally beautiful in the afterglow of her orgasm. Lifting his head from her shoulder to lock eyes with her, that's when it finally hit him. With one last groan, he came, emptying himself within her walls, dick pulsing as he gave her every last drop of his spend. 

Coming down from their shared highs, Psaltarian pulls out, eliciting one last soft whine from the heavily exhausted Sister. He watches his cum leak from her aching cunt for a moment, cursing himself for not bringing his camera to capture the breathtaking sight, before laying down next to her, holding her close to her chest in comfortable silence as they shared a cigarette. They could care less that they definitely disturbed the slumber of the occupants of the surrounding hotel rooms. They were together, and they were at peace. 

Nobody dared to comment on how calm and collected Sister Imperator seemed to be the next morning. Nobody dared to comment on the hand Psaltarian was resting on her thigh under the table at breakfast. Nobody dared to ask why Psaltarian was even there in the first place. Why would they? They already knew. Even Nihil, as oblivious as he often was, exchanged a knowing glance with Psaltarian, shooting him a subtle wink.

-

[cosmic-whispers]

New Beginnings (Kisses: Part 4) - Azriel x Reader

Series Summary: A series of one-shots highlighting significant kisses throughout your relationship with Azriel. Part 4 aka THE kiss. 

Warnings: fluff, suggestiveness, some light angst

Word Count: 4.2k 

A/N: Hello everyone!! I hope you all enjoy the final part of this little miniseries, I had so much fun writing it! This was supposed to be ready on time for @starfallweek, but the last 3 weeks have been really hard on me and I wasn’t able to work on it at all. Please let me know your thoughts, love you all!! 

The light, crisp breeze carried the scent of freshly blooming flowers through your window. The bright, colorful flowers were waking from their winter slumber and Velaris had never looked more beautiful. The grass turned lush and green, and vibrant wildflowers decorated the city’s corners. Spring had arrived and it carried a sense of joy and hope to the citizens of the city. And yet, the uncontrollable melancholia growing in your heart seeped deep into your bones. 

It was your last week in Velaris. 

Your healing apprenticeship in the Night Court was coming to a close agonizingly fast and a cloud of gloom had followed you for the past week.

Despite your initial reluctance to come to the Night Court, you decided within your first few months there that it had been the best decision that you had made in your life. The knowledge and friendships you had gained were invaluable, and you thought of how much you would miss your newfound friends. 

You thought of him. 

Azriel. 

You had formed a deep connection with the Illyrian in such a short amount of time. As much as it exhilarated you, it also frightened you how special he had become to you. He made your heart race in your chest and your pulse quicken beneath your skin. Your heart broke at the thought of leaving him. You knew the feelings deep in your chest ran deeper than friendship or a mere connection. You were falling in love. 

You cursed the Mother. You would find the perfect male, fall in love with him, and then have to leave him. 

A knock interrupted your thoughts, and you glanced at the opening bedroom door. Eloise’s head popped through. 

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been locked in here all day.”

You sighed, gaze shifting back to the window. You heard her close the door and shuffle closer to you on the bed. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, hand gently squeezing, and you leaned your head on her shoulder. 

“I should be happy,” you said. “I miss my family and it will be nice to be home again. But…” you trailed off. Admitting your feelings out loud made them all too real. It was easier to ignore them, keep them locked tightly in your chest. It would make the heartbreak easier to deal with. 

“But you fell in love,” Eloise finished for you. You sighed, gaze still fixed on the trees blooming outside of the window. You didn’t deny it. “Most people would be happy.”

You stood up, shaking your head and pacing the room. “How can I? I’m leaving in less than a week and I’ll probably never see him again.”

“You’re overthinking, (Y/N). That male is completely smitten with you.”

“He’s just my friend.”

Eloise rolled her eyes at you. “And you think your friend would abandon you and stop talking to you just because you move away? Doesn’t sound like a good friend.”

You stopped pacing, throwing yourself backward on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. “No…he’s too kind to do that.”

Her warm hand gripped yours and you looked at her face. “You should tell him how you feel.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re stupid. He’s crazy about you. And you said it yourself–we’re leaving in less than a week. If he does turn you down, what do you have to lose?”

“I don’t know…” you trailed. Exposing your feelings and being vulnerable with Azriel frightened you. You wondered if you were a fool for falling for him so quickly after meeting him. Perhaps you were. But you could not deny the strong connection you felt towards him–how he made your heart beat wildly in your chest, how thoughts of his beautiful face consumed your thoughts, how the butterflies would erupt in your stomach every time he would show up at the infirmary. 

Starfall was approaching. Azriel seemed so excited when he was explaining the celebration to you and you had always wanted to see the spectacle. Maybe you would tell him then. Maybe Eloise was right and he did return your feelings. While the thought of him rejecting you sent dread piercing through your heart, you could not stop the blossoming hope. Maybe he did return your feelings. Your leaving would make it complicated, but if he asked you to stay…maybe you would say yes. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you said. “I think I should tell him how I feel.”

—---------

There was a dull ache building in Azriel’s shoulders and biceps as he kneaded the dough. He glanced at Feyre, who seemed energized despite helping Elain since early in the morning. He was definitely not going to complain or ask for a break before she did. 

“Thank you both for helping me today,” Elain said, placing a tray of freshly baked pastries on the counter next to him. He waited until she turned her back to steal one and hide it within his shadows.  

“Of course, Elain! Thank you for making the desserts for tonight,” Feyre said, smiling at her sister. 

Elain smiled at Feyre and then shifted her eyes to him. 

“(Y/N) coming to the party tonight, right?” she asked. 

Azriel felt the heat rise to his cheeks and glanced down, staring intently at the dough he was working on. He resisted the smile that fought to rise to his face. 

“Why do you ask?” he answered. 

“She told Nesta that guava pastries are her favorite, so I made some for her.”

He glanced back up at his friend, grateful. She smiled knowingly at him.

“She told me she’d be here,” he said, thoughts drifting to you. He wondered how you would look tonight. Beautiful, no doubt about it. Would you wear blue again? How would you look with the twinkling, traveling stars behind you?

“I’m sorry that she’s leaving soon. But I’m sure you’ll be able to visit each other.”

A silent, calm panic spread through his body, chilling him to his bones and his ears started to ring. Elain must be mistaken. He looked at her, face serious and he struggled to keep his expression calm. 

“What?” 

Elain hesitated at his reaction. She avoided eye contact and twiddled her flour-covered fingers together. 

“Eloise told Nesta that their apprenticeship ends in the next few days. They’ll all be going home next week.” His breathing grew heavy, and the incessant pounding of his heart caused his hands to shake. He pulled his shadows tight against him in a desperate attempt to shield his reaction. But the pity in the sisters’ eyes told him it was too late. 

“I’m so sorry, Azriel. I thought you knew; that she would’ve told you.”

He shakes his head, unable to find his voice at the panic rapidly spreading through his chest.  

“Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe she decided to stay,” Feyre said, trying to comfort him. He appreciated the effort, but the anxiety spreading through him made it difficult to find truth in her words. 

“You should talk to her,” Elain said, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Maybe tonight.”

She was right. He needed to speak with you. There was too much that he needed to say to you. He did not want you to leave without knowing how he felt about you. He wanted to stare down into your eyes, filled with kindness and an edge of cheekiness he ached for. He wanted to take you on dates in Velaris and he wanted to be teased by his family for being so damn soft for you. He wanted your kisses–your touch. He just wanted you. 

He would tell you tonight. He had to. 

Perhaps you would reject him. Perhaps nothing he said would change your mind. But he had to try. You had to know. If there was a sliver of a chance that you would decide to stay with him, he would take it. 

—----

Rhysand never spared any expense when it came to his Starfall celebrations. Decadent food filled the tables, soft music was being played by the live band that was hired, and the decorations were elegant and lavish. Faerie lights twinkled throughout the space, filling the rooms with a relaxed and enchanting atmosphere. 

Azriel stood in the corner, a glass of whisky in his hand and he smiled and brought it to his lips as Cassian snuck in the wine that Rhys had banned for the night. 

“I believe Rhys explicitly told you not to drink that wine,” Azriel said to him as he passed. 

The General rolled his eyes at him. “Oh, Azriel, please do crawl out of Rhysand’s ass. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

He chuckled at his friend as he managed to get the cork out of the bottle and served himself a healthy amount. He placed the bottle behind a vase on the shelf behind them, winking at Azriel. 

“Waiting for your damsel?”

He rolled his eyes at him. “She’s not my damsel. She’s my friend.”

Cassian grasped him hard on the shoulder, his grin wide and eyes twinkling.  “I’m happy for you, brother. You deserve happiness in your life.”

He turned his face away from Cassian. “She’s leaving. It really doesn’t matter. I wish you would all leave it alone.”

“Have you spoken to her about this?”

“I will. I’m just…” Azriel did not want to continue. He did not want to admit how afraid he was of you walking out of his life and him never getting the chance to see you again. His stomach fluttered with nerves at the thought of confronting you about it. He was afraid of what you would say–that it would solidify your departure from Velaris. From him. 

“Talk to her about it. There she is now,” Cassian said, pointing towards the entrance.

Azriel’s eyes shifted to you, his shadows swirling and whispering around him. Whatever it was that they said fell on deaf ears as all thoughts of anything else except you escaped from him. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Your black dress hugged your gorgeous figure like a second skin, falling to your feet and dipping entirely too low on your chest. Your makeup made your already beautiful features glow, like a mythical goddess. Your eyes met his, shining bright and entrancing him. 

He found himself making his way over to you and you smiled wide at him once he reached you. 

“Good evening, Azriel. Happy Starfall,” you said.

He smiled back at you. “Happy Starfall, sweetness. You look beautiful.”

You looked down, embarrassed and he smiled at your bashfulness. You glanced back at him and he pretended not to notice the way your eyes trailed over his form. 

“You look very handsome, Azriel,” she answered. He felt heat rise to his face and looked away. “Are you sure the dress is not too much? Nesta helped Eloise pick it out. You know how they can be,” you said, giggling. 

“Not at all. You are easily the most beautiful female in the room,” he admitted,

You grew shy again, looking down at the floor. The conversation stilted for a moment, the tension heavy between the two of you. There was so much that he needed to say to you, ask you. The nerves in his stomach swirled, and he debated whether this was the right moment to speak to you about your leaving. 

Your gaze drifted to couples gathering on the dance floor. The band began playing a soft, romantic song and you began swaying. 

Azriel figured there would be time to discuss serious matters later. At that moment, he would seize the opportunity to hold you in his arms. 

“Would you like to dance?”

You looked at him and nodded, a sweet smile growing on your face, He grabbed your small hand in his, whisking you to the dancefloor. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you close to him, reveling in your softness and warmth, your scent swirling around him. Your arms raised to wrap around his broad shoulder and you met his gaze. How often had he dreamed of holding you in this way? Of leaning down and pressing his lips to yours? He began to sway the both of you, stepping and twirling when the music called for it. 

“You’re a great dancer,” you complimented, smiling up at him. His heart stuttered in his chest at your beauty and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks at your praise. 

“You sound surprised,” he teased.  

“Not surprised,” you said. “Merely making an observation. It makes sense that the Spymaster is light on his feet. You have great footwork, twinkle toes.”

He felt heat spread across his cheeks and glared at you.

“I am a feared Shadowsinger,” he said through gritted teeth and you raised an eyebrow at him in defiance. Insolent little female. The brief image of bending you over his knee and spanking your ass raw crossed his mind, but he quickly willed the thought away and continued. “Do not call me twinkle toes.”

“As you wish, twinkle toes,” you said, giggling. The audacity. Mother above, you would be the death of him. 

He spun you unexpectedly, quickly drawing you back into his arms, body flush against his, and dipped you low. A gasp caught in your throat and your hands were splayed across his chest, the fabric thin enough that he could feel the imprint of your palms against his skin. Your eyes shone brightly, and you smiled wide. He wanted to stay there, relishing in the heat and softness of your body against his, but the other dancing coupes jostled you, shoving and forcing you both to step away from each other. 

“Do you want a drink?” he whispered in your ear and you nodded. He led you to where the refreshments were laid out, and you grabbed a drink for yourself. 

He kept glancing at you, admiring your dewy skin, alight from the exertion of your dance.

“This is my first Starfall,” you said. He could practically feel you vibrating with excitement, the bright smile on your face seldom leaving. 

“You’re leaving.” The words flew out of Azriel’s mouth too quick for him to process what he had said. He regretted instantly as the smile faded from your face and your eyes grew sad. 

“Yes,” you said, your voice quiet. You broke your gaze away from this, looking down at the swirling liquid in your cup. “Next week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. Did you not want him to know? Were you planning on disappearing one day without even saying goodbye? 

“I’m sorry, Azriel. I was going to. Tonight, actually. It’s just…saying it out loud makes it all the more real. As much as I miss my family, Velaris has started to feel like my home.”

“It can be,” he said, voice quiet. You smiled sadly at him and he took a deep breath before baring his thoughts to you. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You drew in a shaky breath before answering him. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

He marveled at how easily you had him wrapped around your finger. At how quickly you were able to tear down the fortress around his heart and burrow yourself so deeply within his soul. 

“You can stay,” he said softly. “I don’t want to pressure you. I will respect any choice you make. But, you must know that you will always have a home here in Velaris. Madja would love the help, we can find you somewhere to live or you can move in with us. You’ll always have security here, (Y/N). You’ll always have me.”

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Thank you, Azriel. I don’t know…Things got a bit more complicated than I thought when I first came here,” you said. You began fiddling your fingers together and he could sense you getting anxious. His shadows swirled gently around your wrists, and you smiled at their soft caress. 

“I have a lot to think about, I suppose.”

“Let’s not ruin the night,” he said, wishing he had never broached the subject. Your eyes had grown sad, and the bright smile that had been plastered on your face dimmed. “It’s your first Starfall. We should enjoy the moment.”

You forced a smile on your face and nodded. He grasped your hand in his once more, twirling you toward the dance floor, where he kept you for most of the night. He was engrossed by you, his rapt attention not waning from you despite his family’s attempts to steal you away from him. 

“Starfall is about to begin,” he said and you smiled wide, eyes shining brightly in excitement. 

“I can’t wait. I’ve heard so much about how beautiful it is. I feel so lucky that I get to witness it,” you said, getting ready to join the crowd gathering on the balcony. He grabbed onto your arms gently, pulling you back against him, and leaned down, close to your ear. Your sweet, addicting scent calmed his nerves. He knew he needed to speak with you alone and he was ready to take the chance. 

“Would you like a better view?”

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. He took you up two flights of stairs and down a hallway to his room. 

The sight of you in his room, looking as beautiful as you did, made his heart race. He imagined you there in the morning, curled on the bed as you both woke up, eyes bleary and voices raspy. You splayed on the bed, bare skin dewy from exertion, and him buried in between your thighs. You and him, curled up in the loveseat, your voice lulling him to sleep as you read to him from his favorite novel. He was so enamored by you. 

He grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and you smiled at him. He led you to the private balcony and you both stepped out into the night. The crescent moon did not provide much light, which allowed for the perfect view of falling stars.

He could hear the murmurs from the party gathered a few flights below, Cassian loud guffaw reaching his ears. The brisk air caressed his skin and he admired you as the breeze blew strands of your hair away from your face. 

A single, bright streak illuminated the night sky behind you and you gasped, eyes widening in wonder.  It was starting. 

Hundreds, if not millions, soon joined, lighting the sky in a wild array of colors reflected upon the planes of your face. Despite the impressive show that enraptured you, he could not look away from you. He didn’t want to. You looked up in awe, your eyes bright and reflecting the stars, and your mouth was agape, a gasp stuck in your throat. 

He loved you. He was transfixed by you. He loved every single thing about you. Nothing and no one had ever made him feel the way you did—like he belonged. You were his home. You were the blossoming of hope in his heart, like the warmth of spring conquering the barrenness and cold of winter. You were his new beginning. 

You turned back toward him, a bright smile of wonderment on your face as the barrage of stars continued behind you. Your bright gaze met his, and in that moment, his entire world shifted. A sharp pain below his rib cage surprised him, the swelling of emotions within him encompassing every cell in his body. 

In that moment, you become the center of his world. His mate. 

—----------- 

Your eyes widened at the onslaught of feelings that were traveling through your chest and the newly-formed tether between you. You stared at his beautiful face, mouth agape. Your mind struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, clouded only with thoughts of the male before you. 

“Azriel…you’re my…” Your breath caught in your throat, cutting your sentence off. You found it difficult to speak as emotion swelled within you, forcing your throat shut and tears to spring to your eyes. 

“Mate,” he whispered. He moved closer to you, his steps slow and deliberate, giving you the chance to get away from him if this is not what you wanted. But you didn’t step away. Your legs carried you closer to him and your arms raised to wrap around his broad shoulders, hugging him tight to your body. His arms coiled around your waist, tightening as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck. 

You burrowed your face in the junction between his shoulder and neck, inhaling the addicting scent of mist and cedar. Azriel’s shoulders began to shake gently, his large frame unable to hide the sudden reaction. You grew concerned as a shaky sigh escaped him and gently moved away, keeping your arms wrapped around him. 

The tears running down his face made a few of your own escape. You gently cupped his cheeks, thumbs caressing the soft skin, and dried the tears gently.

“Are you upset?” you whispered. He chuckled, his breathing still shaky. He shook his head. 

“I hoped it was you,” he began his arms tightening around you and pulling you as close as possible. He was leaning down, keeping his face close to yours, your noses bumping. Your heart skipped a beat as one of his hands came up to brush against your heated cheek. His fingers were calloused, the scars like valleys and canyons on the plains of his skin. It was the most comforting feeling in the world.

“I never thought I’d find you. I thought I was cursed…that I was being punished for the things I’ve done and would be forced to see everyone around me with their soulmate while I was damned to roam alone, always in pain, always suffering. And then I met you. It was like you breathed life back into me, (Y/N). I wasn’t sure, but I prayed to the mother for you to be my mate.”

The swelling of emotions within you made it difficult to think, to respond to him. You let the emotions–the blistering, encompassing feeling of love brewing deep in your heart and soul–travel through the bond, and he gasped, tears continuing to fall from his eyes. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips against his tear-streaked cheek. You pulled back, smiling at him. 

“Azriel,” you began, voice tight with emotion. One of his large hands splayed across the small of your back, holding you tight against the strong plains of his body, and the other cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbones. “I always hoped, too. Since the moment I met you, I felt a deep connection with you. You make me feel so comfortable and I…I fell in love with you. You are the kindest, strongest, most courageous male in all of Prythian and I am so lucky that you’re mine. “

You leaned up once more, pressing another kiss to his cheekbone. His shadows swirled around the two of you, quick and alight with energy. 

“You are my mate, (Y/N),” he said, eyes still brimming with tears and a large grin was overtaking his face. “All mine. Forever. I’m going to kiss you now and then I’m going to ravish you.”

Your body went pliant in his arms, melting against him and a pleasant heat spread across your cheeks and built in your lower belly. Your heart swelled, overwhelmed with his scent, his burning touch, his intense gaze fixed solely on you, and the waves of love and lust crashed against you through the golden thread between the two of you. 

Your hand raised, tracing across the golden brown skin of his cheekbone, gentle fingers running over the soft freckles on his cheeks. His eyes were alight with pure joy, his cheeks flushed and a large grin seemed affixed to his face. He was the most gorgeous male you had ever seen. You were the luckiest female in the world. 

“Yes,” you said. “Please.”

He leaned down, your noses brushing lightly, and finally brought his lips to yours. He pecked your lips, so gentle it made frustration grow in you. You huffed in annoyance and he chuckled. Damn Illyrian baby knew exactly what he was doing. 

Despite his amusement, he seemed to be craving you as much as you were craving him, and he brought you deeper into him and traced his tongue over your lips. The fluttering in your stomach exploded and you gasped at the raw feeling of love and devotion you felt as he kissed you. For someone so infuriatingly calm, he kissed you like a male dying of thirst–a male that could never be sated. You rejoiced in the desire and love in you; at just how right it felt to finally give into each other. 

“Stay,” he whispered, trailing his plump, swollen lips down your jaw and neck. “Please stay here. Please don’t leave.” Desperation coated his words and you felt your heart break. No. You could not leave. You finally had him–your mate–in your arms. He was yours and you had no intention of losing him. 

“No,” you panted, gripping his shoulders tight as he kissed down your neck and began spattering kisses on your collarbones. “I’m not leaving you, mate.” 

The spring breeze helped cool your heated skin as his wandering hands and lips explored you. You could not help but thank the Mother for blessing you with your new beginning. 

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[winter-dayz]

Catch 'em, kill 'em

Pairing: Kim Jennie x Reader Amityville Horror AU Genre: Horror; Smut Words: 2500 Warnings: dead dove: do not eat; emetophobia; gore; major character death; murder; sexual content (choking mentioned, marking, safe words, slight pain play, thigh riding); strong language; suicide; violence

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

“I do have to inform you that the house has a bit of a… macabre history to it…” The realtor hesitated.

Jennie hummed, continuing to look up at the side of the house and mumbling about updates, but your attention snapped to the real estate agent. “What do you mean?”

The woman cleared her throat, “Well… A man killed his entire family here. He claimed he heard voices that told him to do it. And, the last tenants said they had some issues too. They only stayed for a very short while.”

You nodded, “What kind of issues? I mean, we were planning to renovate anyway so if there were electrical or plum–”

“Uh, no, no… More paranormal kind of issues…” The woman spoke in a hushed tone as if she were afraid someone would overhear your conversation. “The Lutz’ claimed that the house was driving George crazy so they left before even living here for a month… They left all of their stuff behind too. The original owners’ belongings also come with the house.”

“Ahh…” You hummed in understanding.

So, the place was supposedly “haunted,” and no one has wanted to buy it in decades… that was why the price was so low. It was odd that the realtor was trying to drive away a client though. Or, maybe she was one of those types to believe in the supernatural. Either way, there was no way you were passing up on a deal this good. The house was a steal in the area at just over two-hundred thousand for five bedrooms. It definitely needed remodeling, but you could tell your wife was already planning the exterior upgrades.

If you didn’t close on this, she would actually murder you.

You smiled at the agent, “That’s alright. We’re not really believers in that anyway. We’ll take it.”

🎃

The first week in the new house was hectic.

Jennie and you were constantly in and out of the place, trying to set up contracts and get portions of the house sectioned off and cleared out to begin the renovations.

Your original plan had been to use the significant amount you’d saved on buying the rundown house to hire contractors. However, as you’d both been struggling to get people in the immediate area to agree to do the work, you’d settled for hiring a more expensive contractor further out of town to help with the major projects that you couldn’t handle, and instead, Jennie and you would complete the rest.

Once that had been settled, the two of you fell back into your normal rhythm. Jennie worked on the exterior and boat house first, while you started clearing out the inside.

During the mornings you spent time apart, working on your respective projects and filled with your own quiet thoughts. It could be annoying to work in the house by yourself since the doors were old and would constantly creak open or accidentally lock when you didn’t want them to. It made moving big furniture and boxes a bit difficult alone, but you managed.

You met for a peaceful lunch on the porch, and then worked the warm afternoons on updating the electrical systems in the basement closet. It was a bitch to figure out, but you still got it done. Even if it drove you both a little crazy to be in the dark, tight space, arguing while trying not to unintentionally electrocute yourselves.

The evenings were spent laughing together over dinner, watching a movie on your laptop, and falling asleep exhausted. Jennie always seemed to wake up at some point in the night though, complaining about loud bangs coming from the attic or one of the other bedrooms, and subsequently shook you awake too. You took turns making sure wild animals hadn’t gotten into the house. There never was anything and, by the end of the week, you’d both surmised that the piping was much worse than originally anticipated and the sound must’ve been them settling at night.

Sleepily, you assured Jennie that you’d urge the plumber to come out sooner than later.

🎃

The first time something “off” happened, you didn’t really notice. The power had cut off in the middle of the day, shutting down both of your power tools, and the temperature began to drop rapidly. It was odd for the season, but you were working in a drafty part of the house.

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had just hired an electrician,” Jennie snarked, holding the flashlight for you while you tried to fix the breaker in the basement.

“I told you. No one in the area would come out here. They all think this place is haunted. If I hadn’t done it myself, we would’ve been without power for a few more weeks until someone from two towns over showed up.” You snapped back.

It had been like that the past few days. The renovations had proven to be a bit more than either of you had thought, and without much help from contractors or professionals, you had both been extremely stressed. Snapping at each other, petty remarks, and sarcasm became your chosen forms of communication since moving in.

The day after the electricity was finally restored properly, you found yourself in bed wasted. And, of course, this was the second time something obviously supernatural occurred.

Another snarky remark from Jennie led you to grabbing the nearest liquor bottle and storming off. When you woke up in bed later, barely dressed and still rather drunk, it was to the feeling of your wife straddling you. Her face was blurry and obscured in your tipsy-vision, but your hands felt their way up her trim waist regardless. Her own hands, cold to the touch so she must’ve been working in the basement or attic, slid over your chest, flicking your nipples in their path. You moaned softly as her hands came to rest around your neck.

And then she started choking you. It was nice at first, something you both liked to indulge in on occasion, but as lightheadedness in combination with your already drunken mind made you start to see spots, you rasped out your safe word.

Jennie didn’t stop.

You started yelling at her to stop, reiterating your safe word, best you could as your vision blacked; and when you felt her weight leave your waist, you stumbled to the bathroom to gulp down cold water and soothe your burning throat and chest.

Dragging yourself back into the bedroom, you found Jennie hovering in the hallway door looking concerned and confused.

“I told you to stop!” You screamed at her.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned back, her face snapping from confusion to irritation at your tone.

You sneered in condescension, “Oh? Are you too stupid to understand safe words now? Whatever. I’ll sleep in another room tonight.” She scowled as you pushed past her to sleep off the rest of the alcohol but didn’t argue further.

The third time something truly paranormal transpired in your new home, you saw it. You saw it, and you nearly shit yourself.

After your last fight, or rather you scolding Jennie on sexual boundaries, you had been sleeping elsewhere. Upon hearing loud sobs one night, you assumed it was Jennie and went to check on her, but she was nowhere to be found in your room or bathroom.

Wandering down the hall to one of the other bedrooms, the cries became louder, but they were off. They didn’t sound like your wife; it sounded like a child crying. Peeking into the room, you saw a little girl curled into a ball on the floor crying.

“Hey… Are you okay? How did you get here?”

The girl’s cries stopped, and her head snapped around to you. Her eyes were vacant and lips purple; her skin was pale and lifeless with dark black veins contrasting deeply; in her forehead was a dark red, shotgun wound.

The girl opened her mouth and let out a shriek before crawling rapidly towards you. You screamed and stumbled backwards into the hall, running for the stairs, but the girl was faster. As she grabbed your ankle, you fell forward to tumble down the stairs, and then you jolted upright.

Sweat poured down your face, breathing heavy, and you glanced around the bedroom you had been sleeping in.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jennie whispered, kneeling by the bed you were in. You jolted away from her as your nightmare played back in your mind. She hushed you and moved to hold you anyway.

After several long minutes in silence, you whispered, “This house is stressing me out, Ni…”

“I know, babe. Let’s just have a day tomorrow. No work, no remodeling. Just us together, yeah?”

“Yeah…” This house was driving you crazy.

🎃

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned into months.

The arguments continued, heightened even. The nightmares grew more terrifying and realistic. Your sanity thinned.

At your breaking point, you asked Jennie to move out with you. She refused. In the heat of the fight, you threatened divorce. You couldn’t take much more of this. She begged you to stay, give her and the house another chance. She insisted it was still just the stress taking a toll on your relationship, on your mental health. You just needed a night out to reconnect, she said.

And maybe you did.

The two of you went out into the town—got dolled up and had dinner at a nice restaurant, took a stroll in the park, and watched the sun set at the docks.

It was nice, and you fell in love with your wife all over again.

Coming home, feeling refreshed and giggling, you both made your way to your bedroom, stumbling as you couldn’t take your hands off one another. Clothes were stripped and discarded on your way, mouths hardly leaving one another’s skin.

You both fell to the bed, fighting for dominance as was normal for you, but Jennie ended up on top. She straddled one of your thighs, grinding down when you tensed the muscle, while you sat up, sucking dark, purple marks on her neck and chest.

Jennie continued taking her own pleasure, and you reached down and harshly pinched her clit. She moaned loudly, always a bit of a glutton for pain, and urged you to do it again.

One hand remained on her thin waist, helping her slide against your thigh as she lost herself to her own pleasure; the other hand moved up to pinch and circle her nipple. When it had peaked, you bit down as rough as you knew she could take. She screamed and shook.

You smiled against her breast and glanced up, excited to see your love in ecstasy after being distant.

Instead, you let out your own blood-curdling scream.

Jennie sat above you, neck snapped at an unnatural angle. Her eyes whited out, mouth dripping with black rot. Her exposed chest ripped open, heart still pumping as blood poured out and covered you both.

You sobbed and tossed Jennie onto the ground. She twitched, her head snapping up and falling to the other side.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Jennie gurgled, viscous black seeping down from her mouth and mixing with the clotting blood splattered across her chest.

You grabbed your stomach, covering your mouth before you could vomit on yourself, and felt wetness there. Pulling your hand away from your face, it was covered in thick, warm blood. You felt yourself choke on bile.

Coughing—choking—you gagged. Nothing came up, but you still felt so ill.

Sick. Tired. Crazy.

The house had driven you crazy. And not the normal kind from stupid stress either.

The house was fucking haunted, and it wanted to drag you to hell with whatever demons lived within.

🎃

Jennie was fine. After you hyperventilated and passed out, she took you to the hospital. Your doctor said that you were physically okay, but when you explained what caused you to go into shock, he had you put on a psych hold for a few days.

Nothing happened while you were in the hospital—no visions, no nightmares, no blood or gore or screaming—which only reaffirmed your belief that your house was hell on earth.

Jennie, unfortunately, couldn’t stay. You were worried about her being in that place by herself, but you reassured yourself that it seemed you had been the target of the Amityville House’s hatred anyway. So she would be fine.

She had to be fine.

Jennie was fine.

That’s what you kept reassuring yourself with.

🎃

You wished you had never bought that godforsaken house. You wished you had just bit the bullet—so to speak—and bought somewhere nicer, more expensive, but already fixed up. You wished you had let Jennie be mad about passing on the supernatural sale, but not literally murder you.

When you got out of the hospital, having to call a taxi to take you home since you couldn’t get a hold of your wife, you found that Jennie was not, in fact, fine.

She sat, catatonic, in your living room. You shook her, shouted, even slapped her, but she didn’t respond. You had resolved to call for an ambulance, but as soon as you turned your back, she was gone.

Jennie found you before you found her.

Something dark, evil had taken over your wife. Her eyes were glazed over and bloodshot around the iris. As you called out to her, trying to wake her to her senses, her head just tipped to the side.

Your nightmares came rushing back, and you squeezed your eyes shut hoping it was just another one.

Jennie tsked at you, “C’mon now, babe. It’s no fun if you don’t even run…” Her voice wasn’t garbled this time, but it still sounded wrong. It was missing her sweet lilt, her playfulness. It was scratchy. It almost sounded like another voice laid beneath her own. Mimicking her, but not really her.

You stumbled away, and Jennie advanced with the ax, mumbling “Catch ‘em, kill ‘em…” over and over and over.

It was over rather quickly, all things considered.

Jennie had never been that strong, but she was able to pin you down easily on the floor, burying the hatchet into your chest until it was split open—mimicking the vision that hers had been in your nightmare.

She stumbled backwards off of you and pulled a small gun out her pants’ waistband.

You laid on the ground, your own thick, warm blood gurgling up. You choked on it; you felt ill. You coughed; the blood splattered across your mouth and dripped down your neck right back into your own gaping chest. You would’ve felt bile rise up if you could’ve felt anything at all.

Jennie wrapped her lips around the muzzle of the gun.

She pulled the trigger; you heard the shot, but your vision was gone before you could see her fall.

The house dragged you both down to hell with it.

[parachutingkitten]

Not an ask per se, just a similar feeling. You’re someone whose Ninjago stuff, here and on YT, I’ve really enjoyed for at least a few years. And I’ve been similarly obsessed with the show for some time. But… it’s as you say — DR is objectively fine, objectively nice, but I don’t feel the same obsession about it and its characters, plot, etc that I used to feel all the time with Ninjago. And I *cannot* figure out why, and it’s also been driving me slightly up the wall. It’s maybe because I genuinely try to give media the best chance when I interact with it, but despite multiple DR rewatches I don’t see what everyone else sees. And the disconnect is a sad, like you mention — I joined the community here because I was so glad to have people who loved this show in the same ways I did, and now it’s like they’re all on a different wavelength and I want to be there but I’m not. It’s definitely strange for sure, made worse I think by the fact that DR isn’t like horrifically bad or anything, I just feel… okay, when watching it, and can’t even explain why.

I don’t know how much sense this makes, but I thought it might be something for you to think about if you’d like. I’ve been tossing around the idea that I don’t love DR because it is… good. It’s good, but too neat — if that makes sense? The new characters — I love them all, but their personalities and backstories and situations they’re put in all remind me of several other stories. The subplots of the episodes always have an end goal in mind, often an emotional realisation, and whilst that’s a neat way to tell stories, it doesn’t feel like, to me, the way Ninjago used to tell stories. Like, the first thing that comes to mind is Sora feeling hopeless and that episode with the djin where she realises that it’s important to hope. And maybe this isn’t a great comparison (as I’m typing it out, I realise that it isn’t the best example oof), but I immediately thought of Zane after Seabound, when he’d turned off his emotions. Sora’s bad feelings, whilst not as ‘significant’ as Zane’s in that context, began just before and were wrapped up neatly in that episode and not brought up again. Zane acts detached from the start of S16 if I remember, and it’s only near the end of the season (I think! I know that it’s a few eps at least) when he meets Sally, talks to her, learns a little about her life, and is able to come to the realisation that he shouldn’t be repressing everything. I think DR, because of the amount of characters it has, especially those that are new, and the amount of new worldbuilding, plot stuff, etc that they have to add in, it being a reboot/sequel type of thing, leaves less time for the nuance and time devoted to the character arcs in the original show. Or maybe I’m just crazy, honestly idk.

Something else that stands out to me is the fact that DR has to establish so much about these new characters and their world that they… they do something that old Ninjago didn’t do, and whilst it’s maybe objectivity a better storytelling choice, I think it’s part of the reason I’m not really feeling it. What they do is that they have the characters act kind of realistic. Arin worries about his parents, often. Sora did too. Wyldfyre and Kai definitely have a few moments where it’s implied that they’re confused about what’s up with their powers. In Ninjago up to s16, because they wrote a lot of it without intending much or anything to come after it, I feel like they thought less about this than the DR writers, who know that they’ve got a few seasons lined up, do. For example — hands of time is when we find out about Ray and Maya, but it was never often addressed by Nya and Kai. It’s brought up in s4, of course, but if they were real kids whose parents had vanished one day they’d probably bring it up more often, like Arin did. But it’s often not done in the narrative because the writers gave them other things to focus on, because they’re storytelling devices and not real kids. There was no real buildup to Nya being the water ninja, for example, but Sora’s said to be good with tech a few moments after we meet her. This ain’t a critique of either show — just a different choice I sort of picked up on, if it even makes any sense. And as crazy as it may sound, I liked that about the old Ninjago — it saw the characters more as storytelling devices, I think, than relatable to the audience (Kai was the hothead, Jay the humour, etc — ofc they were more than that, but they retained that sort of vibe from S1 a little all throughout the show I think). DR, on the other hand, seems to want their characters to be more relatable, more multifaceted, make more sense — which, when coupled with the fact that they’re new characters and that the ninjago fandom has historically thrived on gaps in the show to enjoy it (we’re a very AU, OC, heavy fandom, etc), I think DR attempting to flesh out their characters in the way that we’re often used to doing with the old characters in fic, art, etc means that I like DR a little less because there’s less to ‘work with’, and less that inspires thinking of the characters in different situations — bc whilst relating is nice, it is also enjoyable when the characters are written with some core characteristics in mind and you explore other parts of them or those characteristics in different contexts. I don’t think makes much sense, but I hope that it maybe gives you something to think about — as you can probably see, I’ve been going a little crazy over not liking it and not knowing why, so I know that the feeling isn’t great.

I'm picking up what you're putting down here. My next video has a bit about getting disillusioned with a fandom, and it sucks. It always does. It's heartbreaking when you feel like that special bond between you and your show was somehow broken. I empathies, and it's important to feel it out.

Now, I don't think ninjago was better at character arcs, i don't think having a character arc be longer is better, or even really a characteristic of classic ninjago, but I do think the DR character arcs feel very by the book. They're following the screenwriting 101 guide perfectly, but it ends up feeling a bit lacking because of it? If that makes sense? Now, ninjago was historically very bad at character arcs, but when they got it right, they always had a bit of a spin on things, and interesting visual payoff, whatever. I think the zane's emotions arc isn't particularly great (and the sally piece is sort of at the end of the first half of the season ;) I would argue sora's arc in season 1 about finding confidence is better, but that doesn't mean I find it much more enjoyable.

I will agree that that the characters in ninjago definitely feel more like characters, while the DR cast (old cast included) feel more like people. Neither are a bad thing, but I think it definitely has an effect on the tone. Characters allow for a more lighthearted goofy vibe, because the show is operating on a higher suspension of disbelief most of the time. DR on the other hand, does want a little more vulnerability from its audience on a regular basis.

Lastly, I do think you're onto something with DR being fully planned. The two seasons we have so far feel very indistinct. There is less of a defining singular "adventure" in each season. And again, that's not a good thing or a bad thing, but it ends up making things feel different. Ninjago is an episodic series of adventures. DR is a continual evolving set of circumstances. Those are just going to feel different.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Hook siblings body swap✨

Because I'm here for the chaos.

So, they fucked around and found out with Yzma's potions, daring eachother to drink it. Which means that none can back out now, obviously.

And if the potions worked as they were supposed to, well, that's anyone's guess.

Either way, they drink, stuff happens, and ta-da body swap!

No one saw this because obviously they broke in after opening hours, what else did you expect.

Now, Harriet finds herself in CJ's body and bolts immediately, because CJ has virtually zero responsibilities and Harriet wants a vacation, goddammit.

She also probably gets CJ's body halfway to alcohol poisoning within thirty minutes. Only took her that long because not a lot of people are willing to give alcohol to thirteen yo CJ Hook who a) doesn't drink and b) has two older siblings who will flip out of anyone messes with her.

Of course, Ginny Gothel isn't scared of that. She gets Harriet-as-CJ alcohol without second thought. Harriet almost starts flirting with her, which would be kinda awkward, so she just bolts again and no one is surprised, because that's CJ man, what did you expect.

Harriet-as-CJ could just get away with absolutely anything.

Especially as her siblings are not having a good time and won't tell her no. They wanna live, you see.

Harry is very much not having a good time.

He got stranded in Harriet's body. Which is not a fun experience. Bitch has no regards for her personal safety and is a functioning alcoholic, so.

Anyway, first words aftee figuring out what happened and seeing Harriet run away are „Wait Harriet no, come back, I'm not dealing with your disaster threesome!“

Spoiler alert: he does end up dealing with her disaster threesome. And with her ship & crew.

Now, he knows how to run a ship. How could he not. He'd just rather not.

And he needs to invest a significant amount of energy into not flirting with Uma, which, you know. That would be kinda awkward.

(It doesn't work. He's incapable of turning it off. But everyone just brushes everything off as Hook siblings crazy and maybe jealousy.)

CJ is also not having good time. She ended up in Harry's body and immediately got dragged back at Revenge by Uma.

...Yeah, between all three of them, there is a fair amount of „fuck, help, my sibling's partner(s) are flirting with me, what do I do?!“

CJ tries to avoid being alone with Uma as much as she can.

She gets asked some variation of „Are you okay?“ at least three times within the first hour because she doesn't, you know, obey Uma's orders before she even says them.

On the brighter side, CJ discovered that she can get away with arson in port like this.

(Her older siblings are busy and Uma won't actually tell off Harry - the person who everyone thinks is Harry.)

So, yeah.

And almost no one catches on because are you really gonna question Hook siblings chaos? Are you?

But of course, they still act off enough to warrant an exorcism or two. (Freddie Facilier and Claudine Frollo, at two separate times.)

Marya Rasputin might or might not have tried to disect someone.

The siblings couldn't care less.

And the Hearts keep referring to the Hooks by the correct names (wrong names for the bodies), but, again, no one questions that. The general sentiment is along the lines of „Okay, I don't know why the Hearts triplets just greeted CJ Hook as Harriet, and I don't wanna know! They have swords!“

[somnimouse]

AAAAHHH !! YOU ANSWERED !! i literally squeaked when i checked your tumblr to see that you did !!! such a shame that the setting sourebook doesn't cone in english, but i definitely will be buying!!

oh! and, i appreciate you being willing to tell me about ryu and haru! but can i instead learn about ren? ever since i read your ryu route analysis, i've wanted to learn more about the younger mochizuki :]

sorry about the big ask, and thanks in advance!!!

No worries about the ask! I'm always more than happy to talk about NTY!!! because aaaa I love this game so much. ;_;

Going to put this under a cut because Ren's section has a little bit of heavy stuff, but it's not as bad as Haru's section (which is incredibly NSFL). Ren's section also talks a little bit about Kaori as well, and their dynamic is really, really sweet!

Warning: Contains references to CSA, child abuse, sexual assault and rape. Taken straight from the sourcebook.

To start off, Ren was raised by just his mother, who was a prostitute and wasn't exactly the best example of a loving mother. Ren was bullied in school a lot for this. Other students would insult his mother and insinuate that, because she has sex with a lot of men, Ren, too, must be sleeping with them. He got into fights all the time because of that, and his experience with these bullies was the foundation for his very distasteful feelings toward men.

Unfortunately, his mother eventually got a boyfriend who was also not a very good person. One night, when Ren was in his late-teenage years, this boyfriend snuck into his bed and molested him. Ren took a beer bottle and smashed it over his head to stop the assault, but his mother was enraged and kicked him out.

Ren eventually wandered off and found himself in a hostess club. There was a very kind, beautiful woman there with big breasts who welcomed him. After Ren had spent quite a bit of time drinking, he opened up to her about his life and cried. Much to his surprise, the woman cried as well, and immediately told him, "I will be your family, then!"

... Of course, this creeped Ren out and he thought she was kind of crazy, so he ditched her immediately and resolved never to go back. Who in their right mind would even say something like that to a guy they just met?

At some point, Ren got into a fight with a bunch of guys and lost terribly. They held him down, and a different young woman ended up raping him that night. However, Ren refused to fight back. He thought that, if he refused, he would be seen as gay. He developed a severe defensive response to being assumed gay because of his experience with bullies and his mother's boyfriend. And so, he let it happen.

(Amemiya, the director of NTY!!!, notes that Ren isn't really affected by his rape by the woman and has just brushed it aside. This contrasts with Ryu and Sorato, who have significant trauma and gynophobia because of their experience. It should also be noted that Ren is actually heterosexual, but while his defensiveness at being assumed gay is somewhat understandable, his volatile response is moreso linked to his issues.)

Ren, defeated, eventually returned to the hostess club. The hostess he ran away from never held it against him and welcomed him into her life with open arms, adopting him as her little brother.

This hostess' name? Mochizuki Kaori.

Unbeknownst to Ren, Kaori had a similar childhood. She was molested by her stepfather in the past and ran away from home at the age of 16. She ended up with a boyfriend who was into some shady business, and, one day, she and that boyfriend were targeted and shot by criminals who had it out for the guy. She was saved by Inui Kouichi, and they became good friends. Kaori eventually left her boyfriend and met her future husband, Hagiwara, who loves her dearly and would do anything for her.

It was initially awkward living with Kaori. Ren would turn red and get a boner every time she hugged him because her breasts would push up against him, but after some amount of time, these feelings subsided when he began to truly see her as family. Kaori basically saved him, and that's why he's protective of her.

Kaori eventually introduced Ren to Kouichi, who hired him at sótano as a bartender and a private investigator. Ren has some respect for the old man because of his connection to Kaori, but he ultimately views Kouichi as "too soft." That said, he still obeys his orders.

However, he was immediately awestruck by Kurosawa Ryu, who he views as the only competent man at the bar. He's everything Ren wants to be—cold, composed, ruthless and intelligent. Of everyone at sótano, Ren respects him the most and would follow him without question. He trusts Ryu so much, he even opened up to him about his past. Ryu, seeing himself and his sister in Ren and Kaori, also told him about what happened to Ai. Ryu has a particular soft spot for Ren, but he's also more strict with him than Hiroyuki because Ren keeps getting into trouble with the police by fighting with other guys.

(Funnily enough, after Haru had him drugged and shot him in the arm in the climax of Ryu's route, Ren woke up in the hospital with no memory of what happened. He said to Ryu, "Something complicated must have happened." Ryu vaguely agreed and didn't even mention who shot him or tell him the events that transpired. Thanks a lot, Mr. Kurosawa.)

It should be noted that, due to his childhood, Ren is particularly knowledgeable about the poverty industry and how society preys on the weak and the poor. Despite his harsh, cynical and unfriendly attitude, he's a good guy deep down who also doesn't like injustice. In a sense, you could say he's very much like Hiroyuki in his direct, headstrong approach to issues, and it's why Ryu worries about him just as much.

Some minor trivia about Ren and Kaori that I found interesting:

He really likes rock and visual kei music. Amemiya notes that he tends to really get into the music and "sing with aggressive arm movements" at karaoke bars. Kaori, on the other hand, likes pop music. Her singing prowess is on par with Ryu, who is described as a very good singer, while Ren is just average.

Ren is trying to make himself healthier meals. In the past, he used to survive on things like burgers and spaghetti, but he's learning how to cook.

In Ryu's route, after Kaori's pregnancy announcement, she quits her job as a hostess and becomes a dedicated housewife.

It's noted that Kaori is the only woman Ryu trusts, and this is shown in-game when he rescues Yufumi from the orphanage and hands the little girl over to her.

Ren and Kaori have tried smoking at some point in their lives, but they quit because it was too gross.

[rainbowdaisy13]

WHEW runnin on 4 hours of sleep so I’m struggling with being eloquent. I’m gonna do a list to help my brain—thoughts as I remember them

*Stage is set up wonderfully—most stadiums you aren’t gonna have a bad seat

*If you have ever been to MN, you know that MN Nice isn’t what it means other places. Most here come from sullen Nordic stock so talking to strangers requires a shitton of alcohol. Nary a bracelet was exchanged around me, no complimenting of others outfits. The vibes were very much 👀 staring at others and being too scared to interact 😆

*Openers are perfect—MAATHP followed by CS really gets the crowd amped

*Her opening speech was interesting—she made a point of saying how she appreciates that we are so accepting of people in MN which felt like her acknowledging Pride

*She is so adorable and sexy live, very multifaceted —her stage presence is unmatched. She owns the entire stadium and she knows it. Was super powerful to witness

*Over the top long winded Het-splained Betty which was 🙄 because I thought she was transitioning away from that in previous shows—also my BFF turned to me and goes “she just said it’s a fictional album but then literally writes a song about a House she actually owns” and I died 😆 I had never thought of that before

*Which leads into the fact that Rebekah’s hair was in a ponytail flip thing—hairpin theory may be a bust

*The stage, lighting, bracelets light coordination, pyrotechnics are all top tier. Just next level—I don’t wanna ruin it because it was a shock and super cool, but I’ll say there was a point when we were blasted with volcano level heat being in the upper bowl and everyone went wild

*I sobbed the entire time through Marjorie which was expected

*Dear John was the only song I sat for—I absolutely freaked out that she said be nice online kids don’t go after anyone—turned to my friends and was like omfg she’s never addressed that before!! I do think she needs to be more forceful and real though in her language choice. It very much gave Kindergarten teacher talking to her class—which as we see, did nothing given the amount of posts I’m seeing of swifties being like nope don’t care. I wish she could’ve been like “hey stop being assholes online!! I don’t like it! It doesn’t help me!!”

*Daylight was a shock to me—very beautiful acoustically

*Her dancers are so talented, love all the diversity—also size inclusion, I love a bigger dancer that can do a fucking 3 hour set—break the stereotypes!!

*Seeing the screen during Anti-Hero live was heavy. I do not get what Swifties think is happening during that song. I didn’t realize it till last night, but they juxtaposed live Taylor singing on the left of the screen next to giant angry Taylor screaming and begging to be seen. It’s a crazy feeling to see that and be like damn I participate in this dichotomy by even being here

*I took a pee break during tolerate it and the line was nonexistent

*Shes so quick at costume changes!!

*Rainbow stage and rainbow bracelet lights for August which makes no sense unless it makes sense. Why wouldn’t it be a beach seen/waves?

*I don’t get how she sounds so good second night and doesn’t lose her voice. Doesn’t make sense to me—she must not talk day of the concert at all

*Shit I can’t remember which song it was for, but the screen visuals are naked Taylor in a bed. We get a brief glimpse of her holding someone’s hand, and the hand is of a Black person. This is significant IMO for 2 reasons—we are seeing continuity that she’s using anyone *but* a CIS white man as her love interest over and over and over again. Why?? If she’s only ever officially dated CIS white men?? Make it make sense. Also using a Black man as the Love interest in Lover and then having a Black male dancer do the Karlie grab hands stare at each other walk during Style seems like she’s trying to get across this is about the same person IMO

*The show is planned so well that it never fully loses momentum. And the 3 hours goes by way faster than I thought it was going to

*If you go to a show please stay and cheer for her band, dancers, etc. So many people left while she was asking for us to acknowledge them which is rude AF. She’s always known and acknowledged she couldn’t do these shows without 100s of mostly unseen talented people

Overall, I feel very fortunate I got to see her perform Eras. It is a once in a lifetime show. I don’t know what’s next for her, but it feels like she’s stepping away from this version of herself and evolving. I can’t wait to see what’s next 🫶🏼

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Any Fabricator headcanons to spare?

oh you've gone and done it now. lets see what i can remember off the top of my head

she can't work in silence under any circumstances. at bare minimum she's gotta have some music on in the background. when she's working on less brain-intensive parts of the death-trap-making process, she'll probably also be humming or singing

if she actually ever got a sleep schedule, she would be a morning person. she's not very good at that, though. plus, she works with solaris a lot, and she's a night person, so she's got to make sacrifices to her own schedule so that they can actually get something done

she eats poison with a consistent (and perhaps even unhealthy) frequency. she's developed a tolerance to all her favorites over the years. originally she did so just as a precautionary measure (dying to your poisons is so disgustingly cliche) but it just kind of turned into a habit

as a result, she also claims to be immune to significant amounts of capsaicin (this part is actually true) as well as caffeine (NOT TRUE AT ALL THIS PART'S A LIE)

fabby loves giving herself rewards whenever she's working. little treats. she has no issue with the mental cycle of "ohh but i haven't deserved it yet" she'll scarf down little treats to her heart's content. she always deserves it.

it's this mentality that also leads to her taking breaks in between work and going out to eat and then coming back (and it's absolutely NOT an excuse to hang outside the lab with solaris that's so crazyyyy that's crazy who said that)

speaking of eating, her favorite food is lamb. she'll eat it in pretty much whatever way presented, a lamb rack, a lamb chop, stew. i think she would even stoop to a lamb sandwich if you dolled it up nice enough. if it's available she is going to eat it.

before joining zoraxis, fabby was incredibly ambitious. however, her two passions kind of split her down the middle…

originally she tried to persue a career in engineering. however, she wasn't allowed (not unable, not incapable, but she wasn't allowed) to get her degree after all her hard work. which pissed her off something nasty, but at least she had her love of fashion to fall back on.

she did get a fashion degree, since no one was inclined to keep that away from her. and she was doing pretty well for herself for a little while.

until someone stole her work.

attempts to accuse the thief only lead with false evidence being twisted against her, instead. and it was really looking like the only thing she was ever 'allowed' to do was going to be pulled right from under her feet.

enter zor; stage left. and oh they knew exactly what to say and exactly how to say it (and far too much, though she didn't exactly process just how much they knew at the time)

they would never deny her her true calling. they would never tempt her with success and never let her have it. they would never take what's rightfully hers… but they could certainly help her take it back.

and oh, the most unfortunate thing ended up happening to that grimy thief poor designer! seemingly, he did steal those designs after all. all that guilt he cast onto that innocent woman he took from just proved too much to bare, poor thing. but at least the matter's settled, the designs have returned to its rightful owner, and no one found the matter suspicious enough to do a proper toxology report.

fabby has been absolutely addicted to physical, tangible revenge ever since that moment. it's the only thing that gets results. "if you want something done right, do it yourself", and all that, you know how it is.

(it's also the main reason why phoenix poking around in her workshop flustered her so badly… the thought of someone touching her stuff. doing who knows what to it. taking who knows what. it gets her shaking in anger just thinking about it)