#i watched this match for the first time a couple weeks ago and i've been thinking about it ever since

[oplishin]

i cannot stop thinking about this moment after bayley and sasha's match at NXT Takeover: Respect 2015.

After a night of excellent heel work and "Sasha's ratchet" chants, the crowd instead starts to chant "thank you Sasha," and Sasha falls to the ground crying.

Someone had to play the villain and lose the first ever women's ppv main event, and she did so beautifully.

[differenteagletragedy]

Part two of the one where Simon lets you move into a room in his house You tell Simon that you have at least a few weeks before you need to move out of your apartment and into his spare room, but he doesn't see the point in wasting time. The day after he offers to let you move in, he goes shopping, and the next few days are spent putting everything together. The bed, the dresser, two matching nightstands, some shelves — he makes sure everything is solid and sturdy for you, and he hopes you wouldn't notice how new it all is.

He cleans, too, every inch of the place. He's not a particularly messy man, but he'd bought the small two-bedroom house years ago, and he's not one for company. So he goes over everything, and he does what he can to make sure that his home is a good place for you, from the small stepstool he buys and sticks in the corner of the kitchen to the way he organizes his shaving supplies in the bathroom so you can have half the limited counterspace.

When you tell him you're ready, he brings his truck to the bar to pick up you and your things, and his heart aches, just a little, when he sees that all you have is a couple of bags slung over your shoulder. Without a word, he takes them from you and carries them out, and he tries to shrug off the slight disappointment he feels when you open the passenger door before he can do it for you.

"It's not much," he tells you on the short drive back. "Two bedrooms, just the one bathroom. I'm gone a lot. Stay as long as you like."

"What do you think for rent?" you ask. "I've got a little bit saved, and I can —"

"I meant what I said, love. There's no rush."

He hops out quickly after he pulls into the driveway, opening your door for you this time. He takes your bags and carries them in and into the room that's now yours, setting them carefully on the floor before turning to you, sticking his hand in his pocket and pulling out a key.

"Same one for both doors," he says. "Not much in the kitchen, but help yourself to anything you like. And let me know if you need anything at all."

The first few days, you don't see each other much. He stays in his room more than usual, not wanting to crowd you or make you feel uncomfortable. You pick up an extra shift at the bar, trying to make that rent he keeps telling you not to worry about.

One night during that first week, he comes home late from the gym, and he's pleasantly surprised to see you sitting in the living room, watching tv and having a snack.

"Oh, sorry," you say immediately when you hear the door open, like you'd done something wrong.

He smiles, just a bit, and nods for the couch, wanting you to be comfortable — maybe liking the idea of you warm and cozy in his space a little too much.

"Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart," he says, stepping closer.

You nod, and slowly sit back down, but on the edge of the cushion now, tense.

He doesn't care for it.

"What's on?" he asks.

"Oh, just this show I watch sometimes. It's a dumb reality thing ... I can check it out on my phone later."

You minimize yourself constantly, he's noticed that for a while now, but it's never been so clear as it is now, with you perched on his couch like you're waiting to run for cover. He still doesn't know your story, but in the moment, he'd love nothing more than to find whatever or whoever it was that put this innate fear in you and destroy it.

It's a war in him, a fight between keeping to himself and wanting you not to do the same. This particular battle is decided when he takes a seat on the other end of the couch and forces himself to tear his eyes away from you to look at the tv.

"Tell me about it."

You do. Nervously at first, but you slowly relax. He gives a small, satisfied smile when you scoot back to sit on the couch more comfortably and start to speak more freely, and he fights back a wider one when he really takes you in, bare feet and a loose t-shirt, lounging around at home. His home.

Yours too, now.

After that night, things get a little easier. You don’t sequester yourself in your room, and he warms up to you a bit more. It starts feeling natural, having you in his space. You fall into a rhythm.

Nearly a month in, he comes home one day to find you in the living room, pulling on your shoes, and he asks you where you're headed.

"We're headed to get some groceries," you tell him.

The directness is new, but certainly not unwelcome, and he follows behind you gladly as you lead the way to the store.

Grocery shopping with you makes him feel like a kid again, but one who had someone to dote on him. You walk by the produce, asking him carefully what he likes. What's his favorite kind of apple? What kind of berry does he prefer?

At one point, you actually tell him, "Simon, you have to get some vegetables," and he can't help but laugh at how you stare up at him pointedly, like he's supposed to know he's worth being cared for.

"What's your favorite dinner?" you ask him as you walk through the aisles, carefully scanning for prices before you put things in the cart.

"Don't know," he mutters. "Never really thought about it."

It's true, sort of. He eats, of course, and he has preferences, but it's never really been something to take pleasure in. There's never been some meal he craves, or some kind of food tied to a good memory. He mostly just wants to see if you'll say his name again.

But then he thinks for another beat and starts walking.

He puts a can of beans into the cart, then goes to another aisle and gets a loaf of bread. He doesn't say anything, but you nod and smile at him.

After you buy the groceries -- more specifically, after he buys the groceries, using his body to block the card reader while you laugh and try to wrestle your way around him to pay yourself -- you walk back home. He sets the bags on the counter, and together you put up all your purchases, but he notices you leave out the things he'd picked out.

"Hungry?"

"Generally."

Simon watches, arms crossed, as you heat the beans in a saucepan you'd pulled from under the stove. He doesn't move when you stand close to get to the toaster, and he watches your throat as you swallow when your arm brushes against his to put the bread in.

"You know, I would have made you anything," you tell him as you wait for the toast. "And this is what you picked?"

"Just had it a lot when I was a kid," he mutters, not offering more.

With the look you give him, a glance that's quick but still penetrates, he knows you understand the reluctance to get into the details. It's not the easiest thing to explain, how one can find comfort in the soft lulls of a tragedy. How oddly soothing it can feel to remember any bit of kindness from hands that ripped you apart.

You give him a plate first. Beans on toast, straight from his childhood. He takes a bite and nods, appreciative, and you grin.

A few bites later, you reach your hand up and swipe off a bit of food from the corner of his mouth, and seemingly without thinking, you lick it from your finger. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer, then sets his plate down.

Simon moves slowly, agonizingly so, giving you every chance to stop him. He puts his hands on your waist first, high and respectable, and when you just look at him, waiting, he drops them to your hips.

"This ok?" he asks, and when you nod, he dips his hands lower, over your thighs and to the back of them, lifting you up and dropping you on the counter.

"You didn't have to make me dinner, love," he says softly, working his body just slightly between your knees.

"You don't want me to pay any rent either," you tell him. "I can't just stay here for nothing."

The idea of you bringing nothing to this arrangement is laughable, but he keeps a straight face. He studies you, every fleck of color in your eyes and every line in your skin, maybe too intensely, but you just sit there, and you let him.

"You can tell me to stop," he finally says. "Won't be offended."

"I don't want you to stop."

With that, he brings his lips to your cheek, placing a gentle kiss there, then plants one on your jaw. When you still don't object, and even lift your hands to grasp onto his shoulders, he kisses your mouth.

He doesn't want to rush this, and he doesn't want to ask for something more than you want to give. He doesn't want you to feel like you owe him, but the idea of kissing you like this has been loud and persistent in his mind for longer than he cares to admit. He tries to bridge the two thoughts with his carefulness, but when he feels you start to kiss him back, he snaps.

Not visibly -- he doesn't shove his tongue down your throat or grope you with rough hands. That's not how Simon loses control. For him, snapping is internal. It's in realizing how good you feel in his arms and letting himself feel the weight of that.

He's not sure if it's the dinner you made him or something more innate, but when he kisses you, you taste like home.

In the moment, he can admit that to himself. But he's not ready for you to know. Not yet, anyway.

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!

TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.

Warnings: smut

Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.

It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.

He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.

"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.

"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.

Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.

As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.

Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.

Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.

"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.

As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.

"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.

"Good luck, My Prince."

He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.

Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.

To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.

"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.

"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.

Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.

There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.

When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.

You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.

"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."

"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.

"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."

"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.

Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.

"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.

"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.

"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."

"I know you are."

"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."

"Yes, My Prince."

By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.

"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.

"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.

"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.

"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.

"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."

"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"

"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."

"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.

"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."

"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"

"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."

"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.

"I don't know," he says.

The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.

"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"

"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."

"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.

"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."

"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"

"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."

"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.

"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.

"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.

"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."

"Father--"

"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.

"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.

"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.

"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.

"Very well."

Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.

"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.

"Maybe it's for the better."

"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."

"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.

"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."

"I won't either."

"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.

"When did he say he wanted you back?"

"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.

But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.

“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.

“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.

“We should stop.”

“Why?”

“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“

“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”

"Are you sure?"

"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.

His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.

When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.

"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.

Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.

"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.

"I love you."

"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.

When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.

When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.

He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.

He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.

"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.

"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."

It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.

The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.

But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.

You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.

"Y/N," she says softly.

"I just heard the news."

"Yes."

"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"

"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."

"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.

"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.

"What do you mean?"

"Aegon has been crowned."

"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"

"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."

"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.

"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."

"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.

"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.

"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.

"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.

"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."

"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.

"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."

"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."

"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"

"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.

"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.

"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.

Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.

Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.

The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.

"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"

"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.

"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.

"I won't."

"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."

"I won't do that either."

"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.

"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."

"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"

"He won't. Nobody needs to know."

"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."

"He's been angry. I've made my decision."

The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.

"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"

"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.

"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.

"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.

"I know I should have told you," he starts.

"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."

So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.

All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.

A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.

Yes.

On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."

"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"

"The best yet," you say.

As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.

When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.

"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.

"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."

"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.

"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.

"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."

"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."

"So I did."

"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.

"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.

"Of course."

"Our world is not as safe as it once was."

"I know."

"Very well."

You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.

"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.

"Soon, I think," Jace answers.

"Why has it taken so long?"

"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."

In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.

Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.

But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.

He was as bad as Joffrey, though.

When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.

Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.

The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.

"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."

"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.

"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."

"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.

"Speak to my mother."

Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.

"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.

"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.

"With you, of course," you say immediately.

"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.

"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.

"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.

"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.

"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.

Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.

"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.

"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."

"All I want is right here."

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Mine- Christopher Sturniolo

Summary: You’re on stream with the triplets and you come on the screen and the chat goes CRAZY, starts hitting on you, calling you beautiful, andChris gets a little jealous and decides to remind you of who you belong to…

Warnings: SMUTTTT, Dom!Chris,Sub!Reader, p in v, Unprotected sex (practice safe sex please), degradation, praising, oral (fem receiving), (idk what else i missed)

A/N: UMMM THIS WAS REQUESTED A LONG TIME AGO BUT TY FOR REQ THIS SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG, Chris is low-key like ROUGH in this.. Could u tell I'm ovulating

PSA: THIS IS MY WORK PLEASE AND THANK YOU DO NOT USE MY WORK AT ALL

Chris and I have been dating in the public eye for about 2 ish weeks now, but in private it's been 2 years, surprisingly the fans took it a lot better than he and I both expected. I've received more love than hate, occasionally I'll get a 14-year-old girl in my DMs or comment section talking about stealing her man or whatever.

Today was the first time the Triplets had streamed on their Twitch channel in a couple of months now, so obviously Chris invited me for our first actual Twitch stream since being out in the public eye.

“MATT YOU FUCKING SUCK, HOW DID YOU ALREADY DIE AFTER BEING IN A MATCH FOR 3 MINUTES” Chris yells through his headset.

“Hey, baby...” i slowly walk a little timid after trying to compose myself to join the stream.

Chris squeals softly excited to see me finally join the stream “Hi ma, glad to see you finally keeping me company” he pats his lap for me to sit, and I smile softly adjusting myself on his thigh.

I giggled softly looking through the chat. “Hey someone named Ellie just subscribed”

“SHES A PRO ALREADY�� Nick yells.

Instead of focusing on the game, Chris was playing I found myself looking through their chat.

Sturnfan626: Y/N IF YOU AND CHRIS BREAK UP BE MINEE

The4thtriplet: Shes stunning oh my god

Crybaby19853: this is how I find out Chris has a girlfriend? But wait why is she like absolutely beautiful.

The chat was flooding with compliments about me and how Chris bagged me or them not understanding how Chris pulled me.

“Awe Chris your fans are so sweet look” I smiled at him as he glanced at the chat screen his eyes darkened watching 35k people hitting on me, and even a couple wanting me to start an Onlyfans which to protect my sanity and privacy I would never.

“Yeah I know I got a hot girlfriend” Chris sort of rolls his eyes before focusing his eyes back to the screen.

“Thank you, everyone,” I softly giggle as Chris’ hand snaked around my waist gripping it a little hard.

I was bombarded with comments in the chat, responding to questions about Chris and me while the boys kept playing Fortnite. Unbeknownst to me, it was disturbing Chris, as he began muttering curse words under his breath, a rare occurrence unless he's truly angry.

“I don't know about you guys but I'm super fucking tired,” Chris says while clicking out of the match, now using both of his hands and wrapping them around my waist.

“BYE EVERYONE WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR JOINING OUR STREAM TONIGHT” Nick yells kissing the camera.

“we’ll see you when we see you,” Matt says ending the stream

Chris groans as the stream ends leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair. “Get on the bed”

“Hm?” I turn my head to face him furrowing my eyebrows.

“You fucking heard me Y/N, don’t be a fucking stubborn brat” Chris says coldly.

“O-okay” I obeyed hopping off his lap walking around to the bed and lying down resting myself on my elbows.

Chris walked over hovering over me between my legs and caressing my cheek with his thumb “Such a greedy fucking whore,” he chuckled softly “fishing for compliments from other people” he shook his head leaning down and colliding his lips with mine hungrily. He wrapped his hand around my throat applying just the right amount of pressure getting a soft moan out of me, sending an invitation to explore my mouth. While exploring my mouth his hand travels down my body yanking down the sleep shorts I walked around the house in all day making them bunch up around my ankles. He pulls away softly smirking down at me fully removing my underwear and the rest of my shorts throwing them across the room.

He settles between my legs using his finger and gliding it up and down my wet, aching pussy. “So fucking beautiful,” he says as his voice drops into a husk. He analyzes my face as he slowly glides his finger into me watching as my breath hitches. “And so fucking wet” he chuckled dipping his head down and kitty-licking my clit while pumping his finger in and out of me.

“O-oh s-s-shit Chris” i moan out “s-so fucking good”

He harshly sucks my clit taking it between his teeth while he adds a second finger into me curling his finger up and hitting that hard-to-reach spot.

My back arches off the mattress watching him enjoy every inch of me in his mouth. he began pumping faster into me making my moans turn into whimpers “S-So f-fucking close” I breath out.

Chris groans against the taste of my arousal all over his mouth “Cum” he mutters diving into my pussy like his last meal, pumping faster in and out of me.

“CHRIS” I squeal finally snapping that knot in my abdomen all over his mouth and fingers. I sit up balancing my weight against my elbows looking at him and wiping his mouth against his forearm and undressing himself.

“The first one was free, you’re working for the next few” he grins beginning to take off his boxers as his aching, red cock.

My eyes widened “W-what?” I stuttered.

“You didn't think I was done with you, did you?” he comes now laying between my legs, his face just inches away from mine, and rubbing his cock through my sensitive folds.

I softly nodded batting my eyelashes at him. “Oh? Don't be so naive baby” he coos, continuing to rub his tip against my folds. “I'm far from done with you” his chuckle was almost sadistic, I'd never seen him like this but holy mother of pearl it was turning me on so fucking fast.

He aligned his cock with my entrance pushing his tip in slowly then pulling back out a couple of times, teasing my entrance, making me whine from the loss of contact. “You want it?” he says grabbing my chin and making me look at him.

I nodded violently stuffing my bottom lip out for him. “You beg for what you want Y/N” his voice turned husk.

“P-please Chris” I whined as his tip continued to push in and out of me.

“Please what, princess?” he glides his thumb over my bottom lip while giving me a faux sympathy look on his face.

“P-please fuck me, Chris,” I stated confidently swallowing a lump in my throat.

He chuckles before pushing his length farther into me “Such a pretty mouth, begging so nicely” he smirks fully bottoming out in me, making my eyes touch my brain.

"God you don't know how bad I missed fucking this little pussy of yours," Chris smirked. "That's right, princess. I want you until you see fucking stars. I won't even fucking stop if someone sees or hears. You're mine, understand? You're my little fuck toy," he husked.

I whimpered at his words. I'd never been more aroused than I was right then. He began to regain his fast pace, as I cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck, Chris!" I shouted. This seemed to turn Chris on even more as he thrust into me even harder, making my tits bounce.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," I moaned.

Chris grunted, leaned his head towards my neck, and latched his lips onto my soft skin. He took my skin in between his teeth and sucked forcefully.

"That's gonna leave a mark, Chris, stop," I Whined.

He pulled away and smirked. "I know, that's the point, you dirty little slut, I want people to see you belong to ME” his thrusts maintained a brutal pace while attacking my cervix.

“F-Fu-Fuckk” I stuttered as my legs began to shake around his torso. “Cl-Close” I choked out.

“No” his voice husked in my ear as his hand made a fist next to my head to support his weight and his harsh movements. “Do you deserve to cum?” he hummed in my ear.

“Y-yes p-lease, Chris” I begged between my moans.

“You Cum with me or not at all got it?” he grunts out sitting up and wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing the sides just enough to make the pleasure more intensifying.

“Mhm,” I moaned out looking at him and giving him doe-eyes that I knew he couldn't resist.

“Nu-uh, words, understand?” he squeezed my throat a little harder.

“Y-Yes s-Sir” i wept, the pleasure of him repeatedly pounding my cervix and the way his veins popped out of his forearm while wrapped around my throat became almost uncontrollable, the knot in my stomach could burst at any moment now.

He smirked at my response “My greedy girl, just so pitiful, begging for that release,” he grunted “Hold it for a couple of seconds okay, beautiful? Can you do that for me?” he bit his lip removing his hand from my throat to brush the hair on my face away, smiling down at me.

“C-Cant” I shook my head squeezing my eyes shut as tears of overstimulation began forming at the corners of my eyes.

“Yes, you can pretty girl, I'm almost there alright? Just keep squeezing me so good baby” he moves his hand down my body slowly and agonizing down to my clit and toying with it while maintaining his attack on my pussy.

“FUCK” I squeal arching my back off the bed. My moans became whimpers as my makeup began to run from the tears now streaming down my face “C-Cum-Cumming” I let out a scream of pleasure as my orgasm hit me like 14 busses and I squirted all over him and everything else in the way.

“That's it,” he coos “Keep cumming for me, let it all out” he continued as his thrusts became sloppier chasing after his own release. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me baby,” he smiles as his last couple of thrusts in me painted my once pink walls a nice shade of white. He slowly pulls out of me being careful not to hurt me. “Let me clean you up yeah?” his smile made me smile back at him as he left quickly to his bathroom to grab a lukewarm washrag. He slowly drags it down my legs and carefully wipes my cum covered pussy making me wince “I know ma, I know” he coos throwing the rag into the pile of clothes we left on the floor.

“You okay?” he chuckled admiring my fucked-out expression.

“Mhm, I'm good” I smiled moving my body to face his

“I wasn't too rough on you was I?” he smiles moving my hair behind my ears.

“Honestly, you were perfect” I smiled leaning into his touch.

“I'm sorry I got a little possessive, I'm trying to get used to the whole ‘the public relationship’ type thing, I'm still used to keeping you my little secret,” he says softly kissing my forehead and pulling my body closer to his.

A pound at the door quickly broke up this once peaceful pillow talk moment “HEY FREAKS!” Nick yells “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP” he continued before walking away from the door and slamming his own door.

Chris and I chuckled as I nuzzled my head into his chest. “Do you wanna watch Sponge Bob? Or gossip girl?” he says running his fingers through my hair

“Whatever you want” I smiled before fastly falling asleep wrapped in his arms.

Chris looked at me falling asleep on him smiled down at me shook his head, admiring how peaceful and soundly I slept intertwined with his own body.

A/N PT2: GUYS IDK WHAT HORMONE MONSTER ATTACKED ME BUT LIKE I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!! I love you all and i hope you all have a blessed and amazing day! 🩷

[primalsouls]

your eyes

'malipo' kinich x m!reader

I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face

theme: general, fluff

warning: none, i think, maybe a bit ooc?

summary: (name) has been crushing on a certain saurian hunter for a while already and wayna was getting tired of just watching him stare at the hunter with loving eyes with no plans of making a confession. just how long until kinich notices?

notes: got some inspiration lol i finally got kinich a couple of nights ago xD I was so happy, so I started writing this fic for him lol hope you like it! reblog & comments, any feedback is appreciated!

(colored) eyes stared at the back of a certain saurian hunter. he was talking to one of the tribe’s elders. (name) sighed. a longing gaze watching the dendro user walk away with a small bag of mora in his hands, his annoying companion yapping away beside him about any little trait he could use to berate the other. with kinich out of sight, (name) returned to sorting through a box full of gems but another figure blocked his way, startling the young seller.

“you keep staring at him like that, he’ll feel holes burning in the back of his head.” joked the tribe's chief Wayna, a playful smirk displayed on his features. (name)’s cheeks burned, a pinkish hue decorating across them. “c’mon, when are you going to tell him? you’ve been pinning him since the day you came from Inazuma.” wayna added with a tilt of his head and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. (name) glared at him lightly, smacking the chief’s arm while gesturing to shush. 

“shut up! you can’t say that aloud.” (name) huffed, walking over to the chief to return to his latest shipment. part of him regretted telling wayna about his secret crush on the dendro hunter. well, more like the older man found out within the first few weeks after (name) arrived in huitztlan and got rescued by kinich and the self-centered dragonlord k'uhul ajaw in a near-death attack by some of the wild saurians. Wayna, of course, teased the inazuman merchant for a while about his little secret crush on the hunter after promising not to spill it out to anyone else, especially on kinich, or worse, ajaw. but wayna was getting a little tired of the electro user just staring at the guy whenever he was around. it had been almost half a year since (name) came to natlan. he was surprised kinich didn’t sense those yearning glances… yet. maybe he already noticed but doesn’t bother looking into it. maybe he didn’t. wayna was curious now. 

wayna sighed, shaking his head. “young people these days.” he said, looking over the seller roamed through his shipment. “you two aren’t staying any younger. you should confess, (name).”

“and for what? to get rejected? get made fun of and berated by the oh-so-great dragonlord k’uhul ajaw?” (name) said through gritted teeth, annoyance sipping into his tone. “i’ve rather died in the night kingdom than confess my feelings to kinich.” wayna winced at the last part of (name)’s statement. not wanting to get electrocuted, wayna simply patted (name)’s head and walked away to attend to other matters in the tribe. the merchant clicked his tongue before moving around his little shop to display the new various gems he received from kirara. as he pulled out another small box with more gems stored inside it, (name) noticed a pretty gem that had a familiar color of a familiar pair of eyes. oh, great. now kinich was beginning to affect his line of work. maybe he should confess… but how? no, maybe he shouldn’t. his feelings are only going to get hurt and he would have no choice but to move back to inazuma. archons, his mind tends to be exaggerating. 

(name) shook his head. maybe next time. when he has enough courage to confess his pining feelings. 

the gem matching kinich’s eyes was too pretty. (name) had no choice but to make it into a bracelet. it looked beautiful. just like kinich. ugh. he just can’t get rid of him. The saurian hunter kept plaguing his mind every day and night. his heart raced at just the mention of his name. (name) frowned. he put the bracelet away in his pockets as he walked down the dirt path leading to the scions of the canopy. he was still a long way from home. (name) had a delivery he needed to do personally, to make the gems the customer asked for delivered safely and he did so by delivering them himself. he should have just hired kirara. it was a long walk. too long. 

“you pathetic, lizard-brain worm! you dared tried to defy the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw!? you truly dared to invite the wrath of the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw, a sovereign of the nation of flames!”

(name) paused. he recognized that voice. that aggravating voice. even from this distance, he could feel it getting under his skin. but if ajaw was nearby… does that mean he was too?

biting his lower lip back, (name) debated eavesdropping into their conversation. he shouldn’t but… archons, he sounded like a creep thinking this, he wanted to see kinich. it had been almost a week since he last saw him. it was just a little glance. that’s all. 

quietly walking over behind a tree, (name) peeked over the trunk. ah, there he was. standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed as he let ajaw talk his ears off. but it wasn’t just him there. the legendary traveler and their companion paimon were there, too. (name) honestly didn’t pay attention to the other three. His longing gaze was set on the dark-haired dendro user. 

wow. how can a human being like him be so pretty and strong-willed?

(name) sighed with a heavy heart and blinked. but when he looked over to where kinich stood, said hunter was gone. oh, no. the other three were still arguing with one another, so where had kinich gone to?

“i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.” a voice spoke lowly behind him. (name) let out a small, frightened shout at the sudden presence of kinich behind him. his eyes widened. his face flushed brightly. his words quickly registered into his mind before shaking his hands in defend. 

“wha-wha-what are you ta-talking about?” (name) cursed mentally for his nervous stutter, his (colored) eyes looked anywhere but at the saurian hunter. 

“that longing look in your eyes… noticed it for a while now.” kinich answered, uncrossing his arms as he took a step closer to (name), who instead took a step behind. and they continued for a bit until his back met the tree, kinich never breaking eye contact. 

(name)’s brows furrowed, his anxious gaze staring down at the ground beside him. a hand went into his pocket where the bracelet was, trying to see comfort from it. 

getting no response back, kinich tilted his head as he leaned his face closer to (name). he was a few inches taller than him, finding the little height difference endearing. “started noticing it after the first month you stayed in the canopy. the way you have this yearning look in your eyes. they’re always set on me. you wouldn’t even flinch whenever i caught your stare.” oh, no. (name) inwardly groaned. he must have zoned out as he stared openly at the claymore wielder. the merchant wanted to dig a hole and died in it out of embarrassment. so kinich knew for half a year. how humiliating. 

“i-i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry. i just, um.. I…” (name) was at a loss for words. he was sure his face was as red as those dendrobiums that appeared around the shipwrecks in nazuichi beach. his heart beat so fast, he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. part of him hoped so to avoid this worst-case scenario. 

kinich shook his head at the unfinished apology. “there’s no need to say that.” he started, his own gaze now looking at the tree behind (name)’s back. “i’ve…been having the same longing look, too… towards you. for a while now.” kinich said, pulling himself together to look into (name)’s eyes, after said seller found the courage to do so too. he stared down at the other with a small intense look in his eyes before shifting his gaze back towards the trio he left behind. “i’m not busy right now. ajaw is busy with a couple of behavioral teachers right now, so… would you like to take a walk back to the canopy?” kinich offered his arm towards (name). The electro user stared at him in shock before smiling timidly, taking his arm in his own. 

“that will be lovely.” (name) had a feeling wayna would be too surprised the moment they arrived at the tribe. his smile grew a bit, already feeling the teasing miles away. at the very least, things turned out in a good light, unlike what his overthinking mind had clouded inside his head. (name) was happy with this outcome.

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 24: a grudge easily lost

word count: 1,824 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass | @strangeobsessed

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

1919

The harshness of London's rainy days never failed to leave its mark on your skin. Another damp morning led you into a bookshop, the one at the corner street. You hid behind a shelf as you waited for your hair to dry. Your coat, two sizes too small, was thoroughly soaked through until it dripped around your ankles.

The sound of snickering pulled you to a scene on the other side of the shelf. You peeked through, catching clearly the sight of a man snaking his arm around a young woman. She pressed herself flush against him as she giggled. As his hand dropped, the glaring bright wedding band glimmered. When the woman turned, there was no ring, just a dainty bracelet on her wrist.

"You're soiling a first edition, young lady."

Your head snapped up, and your eyes met those of an older gentleman. He wore a crisp suit, and while you expected anger in his eyes, he had an amused smirk. He crouched down and sat beside you. He pulled a book from the floor and showed you the few rain droplets that fell from your coat, scattered across the book's fabric cover.

"One must never put gossip above the knowledge of books," he chided. "Eavesdropping is unladylike."

"And sitting on the floor is unbecoming of a gentleman." You stared at him with a frost one would only find in a grown woman hardened to the world. "Every woman eavesdrops, sir. Do not blame them for what they hear. It's a man's own fault if he speaks and expects no one to listen."

The man's eyes narrowed, not with suspicion but with curiosity. He nodded softly. "Tell me then. What is it that you have learned?" He motioned towards the couple on the other side of the shelf.

You sighed, looking down to the floor. "He's married. Not to her. I could make an assumption and say she's his mistress. Judging by how comfortable they are, I assume they come here often. She laughs too much, and that bracelet looks like it's of much higher value than everything else she's wearing."

"I see." He nodded again. "Those two meet here every Thursday. He gave her that bracelet last week. His wife has no taste for books."

Your eyes widened. He already knew. He just wanted to test you—to see what you figured out on your own and how closely your deduction matched the facts.

"My name is Alfred," he said with his hand extended. "Alfred Bingham."

You stared at the gesture suspiciously.

"Come now, you mustn't forget your manners. Your parents would—"

"They died a year ago," you whispered.

Alfred offered you a somber grin. "Very well. And how long have you been a wanderer?"

You looked down at the floor again, pinching your fingers to hold back answering.

He put his hand on yours with a gentle squeeze. "Never give away when you are nervous. Or stressed. Or angry or sad. Emotions give us away at the cruelest times. If you want to be strong, act strong. Don't let them see it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I believe you are smart. Smarter than others may think. You have no ties to this world, but I am here to offer you one. I've seen you walking the streets, always listening, always watching. I think it's about time you put that talent to use. And I can help you with that."

You narrowed your eyes with a soft scowl. "Why would you help me?"

Alfred chuckled. "Think of it like a game. You are in my shop after all. It would do me no good to cast a pawn out to be wasted."

"Pawns are the first to be sacrificed."

"Incorrect," he patted your head gently. "Pawns, when at the last rank, can be promoted to a rook. Perhaps a knight. Even a queen. Do you want to last the whole game and become a queen? Or will you let the king defend himself?"

"Are you saying you're the king?"

"No, my dear. I design the board. And to design the board is to have absolute omnipotence."

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arrow House was unnervingly quiet as you sat in the grand parlor, your posture rigid and unyielding in the high-backed chair. The dim light from the chandelier cast long shadows across the room, amplifying the eerie stillness. Across from you, Bingham lounged on the sofa, his body relaxed but his gaze sharp and calculating. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, the faint clink of ice breaking the silence.

“You know,” Bingham began, his voice rich with mock amusement, “You made me wait longer than I expected.”

You tilted your head slightly, your voice devoid of warmth. “And yet, here I am.”

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with twisted delight. “Oh, how I've missed you and that biting tone of yours.”

“Why are we here, Alfred?”

Bingham laughed, a sharp, grating sound that echoed in the room. “You tell me. What have you deduced?”

You folded your hands in your lap, your demeanor chillingly calm. “There was a second bidder on this property. I can safely assume, now, that you were looking into it around the same time Thomas Shelby purchased it. Coming back here would mean you either intend to diminish its value or you want to use it as a bargaining chip.”

His grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he regained his composure, his tone mockingly patronizing. “A bargaining chip... And what do you think I'm bargaining for?”

You stared back at him, your eyes lazy and unamused at his prodding.

His playful façade cracked. He leaned forward, his tone dropping. “Mr. Shelby is going to great lengths to keep you in his possession. But you—just like this house, just like me—have a value. I want to see how much he values you. Would he give up the empire he's built for you? Or would he let you go because you simply aren't worth it.”

"I am in no position to understand what he wants."

"That is where you're wrong, y/n," Bingham chuckled. "Let this be another lesson for you to never assume the weight of a man's loyalty. Thomas Shelby is a man, and, in his pride, he could choose to have you—the woman who broke him down with hardly a lift of her finger, or he could keep his crown. One of us will fall, but I am the one with the one item of value that he will never find again. The woman he loves is not an item to be replicated. He will be broken if he loses you.

"And, dare I say, you love him, too. You love him enough to care for his family. Enough to let yourself be blinded, once again, to the follies of sentiment. This—" He pulled the ring from his pocket. "—Of all the things you could have looked for, it should never been something as pathetic as a token from a man whose pain and suffering were brought upon by you and you alone. You disappoint me, y/n. But I am offering you a chance to become queen again. All that stands between you and the crown is Thomas Shelby."

"What did you really want from me all those years ago, Alfred?" You suddenly asked. "For all this to be caused by a young girl who only needed shielding from the rain, I never understood why you held onto me all these years."

Bingham's smile returned. He placed the ring down, his expression slowly twisting into something more hardened. "I wanted you to be everything you should have been. My legacy. My confidant. My—"

"—You soiled your legacy the moment you touched me."

"I was never anything personal, y/n. That was a harsh reminder that, in the grand scheme of things, your body is a weapon. Not a gift. You were wasted loving Ezra. I needed to remind you being loyal to the man you loved would only be wasted time."

Wasted time. The phrase rang through your head like venom. He diluted your years with Ezra, reducing the bond you once had to an act. Then again, at the moment, you were wasting time. Buying time, more like it.

The tense silence was broken by the distant sound of gunfire outside. Bingham rose, his head snapping toward the window.

“What the bloody hell—” Pulling back the curtain slightly, his face darkened as he saw the Blinders closing in, moving with precision through the estate grounds. One by one, his men fell, and blood painted the gravel.

You remained seated, your voice calm and detached. “Checkmate.”

Bingham turned to you, his expression a mix of fury and disbelief. “You told them I'd be here.”

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, darling, I did.”

Bingham's eyes scanned the room just as Polly Gray stepped into the light, a revolver steady in her hand. Her expression was one of pure, cold resolve.

“Well, well,” Polly drawled, her tone laced with venom. “Bingham, isn’t it? You're much... Smaller than I imagined.”

Bingham's hand instinctively moved toward his waist, but Polly cocked her gun with a sharp click.

“Ah, ah. None of that now.”

You stood slowly, your movements deliberate and composed. “Alfred, I'd like you to meet Polly Gray. I'm afraid she, like myself, has a habit of eavesdropping.”

Bingham sneered, his bravado faltering, but the expression of amusement returned. “A new game then?”

“No,” Polly said coolly. “I was never one for chess. I much prefer something more exciting.”

Before Bingham could react, you stepped forward with a swift and precise motion, slamming the butt of a small hidden pistol into the side of his head. He crumpled to the floor with a groan, unconscious.

Polly lowered her gun, giving you a nod of approval. “Cold as ice, aren’t you?”

You met her gaze, your voice steady. “Didn't want to get any blood on Tommy's carpet.”

Polly smirked, her eyes gleaming with pride. “You’ve been paying attention.”

The sound of heavy footsteps outside grew louder as the Blinders stormed into the house, each with a rifle aimed in different directions. Tommy appeared in the doorway moments later, his sharp gaze sweeping the room, taking in Bingham’s crumpled form and the two women standing over him.

Polly holstered her gun, nodding toward Tommy. “All tidied up for you, love. You’re welcome.”

Tommy’s lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile as he met your eyes. “Well done,” he said softly.

You looked down at Bingham. “Michael knows what to do?”

Tommy nodded, motioning to Arthur and John to remove the body. You released a long held deep breath as the tension in your neck shifted into an ache. You placed your hand on Tommy's arm, offering the gentlest of touches before leaving the room.

[pinkkop]

For the past while I've been wanting to start doing weekly post about the QL's I'm watching and the new year is the perfect opportunity to start doing just that!

It'll be a place where i can share my thoughts on the BL and GL shows while I'm watching them and leave my final thoughts as well.

This week I've just left the shows in alphabetical order but I'll probably start sorting them from most to least liked next week. Also I hope this post doesn't feel too long since I don't know where I'd place a cut 😊

Let me know if there's anything you find confusing or if there's anything I could do better for next week.

QL Recap for Week 1 The 30th of December to 5th of January

🇹🇭 Caged Again Ep. 9 of 10 ----- Watching on: Gagaoolala

I'm still enjoying this a lot but it's definitely lost some of its spark. 

🇹🇭 Fourever You Ep. 15 of 16 ---------- Watching on: Gray

I'd completely forgotten that WeTV starts fast-tracking the episodes towards the end so color me surprised when I saw that ep 15 was also available and unsurprisingly I watched it the second I realized. I lost interest in Ter and Hill a couple of episodes ago so I don't pay much attention to them anymore. I am however really enjoying Johan and North. I feel like I haven't seen this kind of pairing before. I'm really enjoying the slow development of North slowly learning who Johan is and opening up to him and then Johan slowly opening up to North as well. I'm not a fan of when characters get unnecessarily jealous of their romantic interest's friends or have a problem with friends being close like when Hill saw a problem with how North and Ter cuddle. On top of this I don't like when a character makes decisions for their romantic interest unless they are small decisions, which meant that I also wasn't a fan of how Hill and Johan fixed the "problem" with Ter and North cuddling. Like who the fuck just moves their boyfriend out of their place and into yours without asking first 🤯. Those two things are the only major gripes I have with this show right now and I mostly just try to ignore them because Johan and North are still hella cute and I love that they are finally officially dating without drawing it out unnecessarily (looking at you, Hill and Ter).

🇯🇵 Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu Ep. 9 of 10 ----- Watching on: Gagaoolala

I'm not sure where they are heading and what Hirukawa is thinking with how he is acting but I've really enjoyed this show as a whole so I trust that it'll all make sense next week with the final episode.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners Ep. 11 of 24 ------- Watching on: Youtube

I really like Gun and Yotha as a pairing and I'm definitely invested in this show but it's not at the top of the list.

🇹🇭 Petrichor Ep. 6 of 10 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

So many reveals this episode! This show is not quite the same level of brain-rot as Spare Me Your Mercy was for me but I'm having a good time and I'm invested in the story.

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw Ep. 2 of 8 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

The first episode was promising and I'm always a fan of characters having sexual fantasies because it gives a good insight into the character's feelings, both because of the fantasy but also with how they react to it. Episode two made me feel more like I was watching a pulp drama and I'll admit that I'm not a big fan of the over the top acting of some of the characters which seems like those characters will keep being a part of the story going forward. It's just not a type of humor I find funny but so far it's not enough for me to drop this show. The trailer was steeped in it though so who knows how much of the show will focus on that kind of humor.

🇹🇼 See Your Love Ep. 12 of 13 ---- Watching on: Gagaoolala

These two are just the cutest and I'm enjoying them so much. The small touches and the casual kisses are so good and it makes them feel really real and like a good match in a way that not all BL couples do when we get to experience them after they get together. I love how Shaopeng's deafness is still a part of the plot but not in the sense that it needs to be fixed, it's just a natural part of him and it bleeds into all aspects of the plot in a really great way. Honestly this is just such a solid show! 10/10 would recommend. I'd just like for the episodes to be just 5-10 min longer so I could get more of the second couple.

🇹🇭 ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat Ep. 4 of 13 -------- Watching on: Youtube

I'm still absolutely on board with this show. The plot of getting the band together feels a little simple but I really don't mind it because it works well with Thame and Poo getting to know each other. After this episode I wonder whether Jun actually believed what he said about Thame to Po. Like does he really believe that Thame isn't interested in Po or is he just trying to avoid them getting together? Either way it was so delicious to see Po start doubting himself but then Thame once again showing loudly with his actions that he is so interested in Po and that Po is a priority to him. Like who talks on the phone for hours, falls asleep still on the call and then just keeps being on the phone when you wake up again and then pretty much serenades the other person in the morning 🤯 Absolute bonkers behavior from Thame and I'm so here for it. This actually makes me wonder how self-aware Thame actually is? Does he know that he has feelings for Po? 

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World Ep. 1 of 10 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

This is definitely a show where I needed to lower my expectations before watching the first episode because I've really been looking forward to this and I'd much rather set my expectations low and be happily surprise. I really liked the production quality of this show after the first episode and Boss and Noeul are doing really well. I'm definitely still excited about this show even if the first ep left me a little confused but I think that's to be expected when a show introduces concepts like parallel universes so I'm expecting that it'll make sense with time.

🇹🇭 Your Sky Ep. 8 of 12 ----------- Watching on: iQiYi

These two are so damn cute! This show just keeps being this little happy bubble for me. I'm glad they didn't drag out the misunderstanding so now they just gotta figure out how to bone. I like Real and Hia a lot as well but we don't really get enough of them for me to get completely invested. So far I'm not entirely sure what Hia thinks and feels because we've only really seen glimpses of Real realizing he has feelings for Hia. I'm guessing we'll get more of them while Fah and Rak figure out how to be a couple. 

That's it for this week!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[gildedphoenix]

SuperPhantom - White Crow

Posting this now because I'm not sure I'll ever finish it.

Feel free to contribute.

White Crow SuperPhantom

(965 words)

--+--

Dean answered his ringing flip phone. And NO Sam, he doesn't need a smart phone. The battery on this thing lasts 5 days and it survives being in Dean's pocket when he's thrown against a wall by the bad guy of the week.

"Hi Bobby. Whatcha got for us?"

"I hope you've got gas in the take because this one is going to be a bit of a chase." Bobby opened. "I've got reports coming in from all over about a white crow being linked to dozens of deaths. None of the hunters who've looked into it so far have been able to track the creature or find any connections between the victims. The issue is that some of the crimes aren't fresh. The last victim, a Tim Stillion, had been dead for weeks. Can't figure out the cause because the animals had been at his body. And unless this bird can teleport, he was on the other side the country when Stillion was kill't."

Sam, who was already clickity clacking on his laptop, spoke up. "It sounds like the crow isn't a portent of death then, but just a reporter. But how is it finding the bodies?"

"Yeah," Bobby drawled "I figured you'd come to that conclusion. That's why I called you boys. Every other hunter is out here trying to end this bird when it's solved more cold cases then all of them combined. Bunch of idgits."

Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started towards the garage. "So where are we headed Bobby? Any word on the last sighting?"

"Last couple time it was seen, it was around central Illinois."

"Let's roll"

-=-=-=-=-

Sam Manson revved her vespa and continued chasing the white crow down ST-54. They'd been at this for weeks now. And despite it all, Sam was just happy that she'd found Danny at all.

/three weeks ago/

"There's no way!" leopard print blouse said. "You look like one of my son's friends."

Danny had a tendency to drop whatever he was holding if he got summoned but for once, he kept hold of his cell phone. So when he ended up disappearing in the middle of a Doom speed run, Tucker was able to track him down. And after a few minutes (and way too few reasonable security measures) Sam and Tucker were able to watch a live stream from a web connected Nanny cam.

The room was all white, leather couches pushed back against the walls. Marble and brass coffee table set with white taper candles. Starbucks cups sitting on the ledge of the kitchen counter. And in the middle of the room, Phantom. Desperately trying to convince 6 PTA, HOA, Basic Witches that he was indeed the Ghost King that they were trying to summon.

A woman in a white gauze blouse and white wash jeans stepped forward. It must be her house, because she matched the decor. "How did you highjack the summoning?!" It was the same tone every teen has heard from their parents. The tone that said they'd already decided what had happened and were just waiting for you to admit fault.

"Hey, you summoned me. What did you even want, anyway? Pumpkin spice to be available year round? For the grocery store to accept your expired coupons? How about-"

"Now you listen to me young man," A third woman, dressed in sunny yellow and a high pony tail that did nothing to help her look younger. "You need to learn manners and your parents clearly didn't care to teach you"

("Ouch" danny mumbled, "accurate, but ouch" )

Yellow started chanting and the others quickly caught on and joined in. Danny, realizing that he was running out of time to gas light, gatekeep, or girlboss his way out of a solution, tried the old reliable Plan Z. Run away.

So he turned ghostly tail to the nearest window and - BONK! - was stopped by the shielding on the summoning circle. Which was a first. People usually forgot about that. Danny was now both impressed and worried as be felt both pressure and dread building around him as the chanting volume and speed.

Danny clutched his head as the pressure grew to a screeching point until everything released with a pop. The pressure was gone. The chanting was gone. Danny felt lighter, which was saying something given how gravity was typically just a suggestion while he was in ghost mode. Opening his eyes -and when had he closed them? - he noticed one more difference. Everyone had gotten bigger. And the furniture had gotten bigger. And the room had gotten…. uh oh. He had gotten smaller.

Danny was trying to orient himself and identify where an deep thudding was coming from when he was hit from the side. Foot steps. That's what the thudding was. They were just drastically louder when he was only tall enough to stare people in the shins. And the sidelong assault? A broom. Which connected a second time before he thought to go intangible. (Why did he always forget intangibility?)

The woman in white had gotten a broom and was swatting him towards the open patio door, her strappy white sandals stopping behind him and he frantically tried to coordinate his limbs in that same direction. His limbs did not want to coordinate but he eventually got himself out the door and the broom stopped swatting at him.

Once he cleared the threshold, the door rolled closed with a slam and the lock snicked shut.

"And don't come back unless you've learned respect!" was shouted at him from a nearby window before it, too was slammed shut.

======================================

Looking back into the house, he was met by his own reflection in the sliding glass door.

"SQUAAAAAAK!"

In which Danny and Sam are traveling the US 90's road trip style to absorb the ecto of recent (or semi-recent) murders so Danny can get enough power to break the spell and transform back.

The general hunter community is chasing a white crow and a witch to stop them from committing all these murders.

And Sam and Dean and Bobby are trying to just figure out what's going on.

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: When he wakes up alone in bed, Azriel is left to consider the events of the night he'd spent with Elain as well as how they'd ended up in bed together in the first place.

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: If you've been following along on my WIP Wednesdays, you'd know this fic is a long time coming. I am very nervous but very excited to start getting this out. Thank you to everyone that's been hyping up all the puzzle pieces I've shared over the past couple of months. The next chapter should be up next week if everything goes to plan.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

.............................

She’ll break your heart, Az. 

It had started as a joke - a firm hand clasped on his shoulder as Rhys grimaced and told him to please, for the love of God, stay away from Elain when Azriel had quietly enquired about the middle Archeron sister after seeing her for the first time all those years ago.

Azriel wasn’t quite sure how it had come to be that he and Cassian had found themselves doing manual labor early on that Sunday morning when it was Rhys that had been trying to impress the father of his new girlfriend. Nevertheless, he’d ended up on the roof of an unfamiliar house, shirtless and sweating under the blistering morning sun as he helped Cassian fix a few broken tiles on the roof of the Archeron family home while Rhysand watched from the ground, shouting up instructions that Cassian and Azriel both chose to ignore.

He’d been mid eye-roll, watching his friend preen in the reflection of a window, twisting this way and that to flex the muscles in his abdomen just right when the gauzy curtains of the window they were stood in front of parted and Azriel caught his very first glimpse of Elain Archeron. 

She’d stared at them in shock, bleary eyes widening slightly as her gaze flickered between the two men standing directly outside her bedroom window. Cassian, having met her already a few weeks ago, had given her a bright smile and a wave and then quickly disappeared, leaving Azriel standing still as night as he continued to stare at the girl staring back at him.

Those big brown eyes of hers had flickered down to his bare chest for a fleeting moment before they were back on his face. His own eyes had quickly traveled over her in turn. He catalogued the bare legs, the little white pajama bottoms that were dotted with what looked to be tiny roses just barely skimmed the very tops of her thighs. The thin white straps of the matching tank top were stark against her lightly tanned shoulders and her hair was a tousled crown of chestnut waves that framed her pretty face. 

Azriel had only just remembered where he was, had only just realised that he was a stranger standing on a roof and staring into the bedroom of a girl who clearly had no idea that she’d be waking up to two idiots on her roof that morning. He’d only just come back to his senses enough to sheepishly raise his hand and wave to her when the curtains were yanked shut and all he could see was the shadow of her frantically ducking out of view.

She’d avoided him that entire day. Wouldn’t even look him in the eyes as they sat across the table from each other at lunch. Hadn’t said a single word to him other than a whispered thank you when he insisted on helping her clear the dining table. They were such limited interactions and yet Azriel hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her and couldn’t help himself when he nonchalantly brought her up as he drove Rhys and Cassian back to the apartment they had all shared at the time. 

That had been the first time Rhys had delivered his warning but it certainly hadn’t been the last.

Rhys had said that she would break his heart but Azriel had always seen that comment for exactly what it was which was nothing less than a thinly veiled warning, a polite way of Rhys telling Azriel to stay away from his girlfriend’s sister as if she’d be the one to ruin him when they both knew what kind of track record Azriel had with women. It was Rhys’ roundabout way of letting him know that Elain was the type of girl with her head on her shoulders, the type of girl that preferred a steady relationship while Azriel had never had much interest in maintaining anything more than a rotation of regular, no strings attached acquaintances. 

Azriel had laughed off the warning each time but it had stuck with him and he knew deep down that even though he’d never felt that sort of instant draw to someone else before, he’d never be good enough for Elain. Still, even armed with that knowledge that she was so far out of his league, he couldn’t bring himself to stay away and Azriel had inevitably found himself finding any excuse to be around Elain in those first few months.

It had all started innocently enough - timid looks and shy conversations in those early days when they found themselves spending more and more time together after it had become clear that Rhys and Feyre were in it for the long haul. That time had only increased after Nesta had finally broken down and admitted that she liked having Cassian around for more than just sex. Numbers were exchanged, casual hangouts were planned, and Elain had opened up to him slowly but surely - various facets of her personality unfurling as the months and years went by and she grew increasingly comfortable in his presence. 

Rhys had continued to deliver that warning all the while -  each and every time he caught Azriel looking at Elain for a little too long, laughing a little too loud at her jokes. Each time the two of them snuck away for a drive or a walk around the garden for a moment of quiet amidst all the noise. All those times they’d stayed up together after everyone else had gone god knows where to do god knows what and Rhys would come downstairs early in the morning to see his friend fast asleep on the couch, the plush blanket Elain favored carefully draped and tucked around Azriel’s body. 

Rhys had reminded him again, one last time, before he’d left the two of them alone together just last night but Azriel had waved him off just like he had every other time the warning had been delivered to him because he’d never expected to actually have to heed it. Not after all these years. Not when nothing had ever happened between them apart from a lingering hug or a kiss on the cheek. Not when Elain had always been with some boy or another the entire time he’d known her. Even though she spent at least a couple evenings of the week on a couch with Azriel, her feet in his lap as they caught up on their days. 

She was his friend. One of his best friends. Elain had called him that a few times over the years and it had made his heart swell with boy joy and disappointment because while he’d never admit it, her choosing him in any way - deeming him her best friend - meant the world to him. 

He was good friends with Feyre and he had a strong bond with Nesta built on a mutual understanding of their similar personalities, but Elain had been different from the beginning. That initial attraction of his towards Elain had morphed into something else entirely as he got to know her and then before he knew it, she’d become one of the most important people in his life. 

It’s why he’d decided to sit down and make her that necklace just a few years into knowing her even though he’d never once before made a piece for a friend in all the years he’d been making and selling jewelry in his spare time. 

Azriel had taken his time with that necklace, meticulously hammering out the gold until it was exactly the right shape. He’d carefully engraved a delicate rose into the front of the small pendant, fashioned after a picture she’d sent him of a rose that she’d grown. And then, because he was never able to help himself, he had added the tiniest ‘A’ to the back of the gold oval.

It had satisfied some small part of him to offer that necklace to her on her birthday. To know that something he’d made with his own two hands specifically for her would rest against her skin. He’d never forget the unfiltered joy that had spread across her entire face when she opened the box.  H’ed never forget how eagerly she’d turned and lifted her hair so that he could fasten the chain around her neck. 

He’d certainly never forget the way she’d turned back towards him after he’d secured the clasp, one of her hands clutching the pendant while the other pressed gently against the side of his neck as she raised up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek that was so different from any friendly kiss they’d exchanged as a greeting or a goodbye in the years before. 

It was the first of those moments. The beginning of instances that were few and far between in which Azriel allowed himself to believe that maybe the affection he felt for her may actually be mutual.

There’d been a handful of those almosts over the years since that night of her birthday. Moments in which Azriel thought that Elain had wanted him to lean in, to kiss her. To take the hand that seemed to live in the space above her knee whenever they were sat next to each other and slide it higher up her thigh. There were times he wanted to stay back a little longer, follow her upstairs at the end of the night instead of heading back to his own home.

He’s caught her looking at him a time or ten. Saw the jealousy that lit in her eyes when one of his idiot friends thought it appropriate to bring up the girls he’d taken home over the years in casual conversation. Girls he never saw for more than a night or two every few weeks. Girls that never really even made it further than the couch in his living room if they even made it into his house to begin with. 

It had never made sense to him, that quiet jealousy that radiated from her. Not when she had always been with someone in the time he’d known her. Although he certainly hadn’t missed that despite those boys that she kept around for a year or two before moving on to the next, it was always his necklace strung around her neck. Even when one of those boys had gifted her a pretty necklace dotted with tiny pearls as a Christmas gift, Azriel had been shamefully delighted that it had never even made it out of the jewelry box on her dressing table.

But because things never went quite right for him, all those stolen moments had come to an abrupt halt after Elain’s father had unexpectedly passed away a few months ago. 

His calls and texts had all gone ignored for a few excruciating weeks after the funeral and he’d panicked one night after he couldn’t take the silence anymore, driving to her house only to find her kneeling in the garden and hastily pulling up weeds in the dark. Her hands had been covered in countless cuts and scrapes - some new, some already scarred over - an indication that it hadn’t been the first night she’d spent taking out her emotions in the garden. 

Azriel had silently guided her inside, set her on the powder room counter and carefully cleaned and bandaged her wounds. When she’d finally broken the silence and whispered that she couldn’t bear to be in the house alone, Azriel had found himself sharing her bed and holding her close as she cried herself to sleep. It had continued like that for an entire fortnight, tears  gradually easing with each day that passed until one night she’d looked at him with something other than sadness in her eyes. He hadn’t known what to do when her fingers slid under his shirt, her lips hot against his neck. But she’d paused and pulled back at the exact second he opened his mouth and said her name in a questioning tone, turning her back to him and shuffling to the corner of the bed. It was a moment that ended just as quickly as it had started and while they hadn’t spoken of it since, Azriel had never forgotten. 

He had each and every one of those touches and glances carefully stored away in the back of his mind. It was a never ending rolodex of examples of the way the line between them had slowly started to erode with time until only the faintest streak remained. 

That line had been completely obliterated last night -  initially smudged when she’d walked into his house in a dress that clung to each and every curve in a way that made him want to bite his fist like a goddamn cartoon character and then it had been erased from existence a few hours later with the slightest press of her lips to the very corner of his mouth. 

He certainly hadn’t expected the turn of events but it had all happened so seamlessly. It had all felt so right.

He’d been happy to see that line go, thrilled to fall asleep without a single thing between them - his arm slung heavily around her bare waist, her fingertips delicately tracing patterns over the sharp line of his jaw.

Azriel had awoken this morning with a small, satisfied smile on his face and the heady taste of her still lingering on his tongue. He reached across the bed, eyes still closed, fingertips seeking out the smooth skin that he’d memorized every inch of last night. His smile faltered when he came up empty - one eye peeking open only to find cold, crumpled sheets and an empty space where Elain should’ve been. 

He shut his eyes, turning onto his back and pressing the heel of his palms tight against his eyes as he counted to sixty. 

It was something he’d done as a child - squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could stand as he counted a full minute in his head, desperately hoping and praying that the scars that covered his hands would disappear after the minute was up and he opened his eyes. But just like his scars had remained in place each and every time he deluded himself into believing that his trick would work, he hadn’t been able to use sheer will to make Elain appear safe and sound in his bed again. 

Azriel knew immediately, without a shadow of doubt, that Elain had left. He knew how things had ended the last time things had gotten a little too intimate between them. That had only been a heated look at a vulnerable time in her life and it had sent her running off across the country so he dreaded to think what the events of last night would result in. 

Still, he begrudgingly sat up and looked around for signs that maybe she hadn’t actually left. That maybe she’d just gone to the bathroom or that she was just downstairs making coffee and keeping his dog company. But his house was quiet. The only audible sounds were the subtle ticking of a clock and the soft howl of the winter wind as it rattled his bedroom windows. 

He thought back, searching for signs that would explain her sudden disappearance. If it wasn’t for the light smears of dark red lipstick across his chest - his hips - he might’ve thought he’d dreamt the whole damn thing. But it hadn’t been a dream. She’d been here. In his bed. The intoxicating scent of her perfume still lingered on his sheets. 

A sense of dread filled him as he considered that maybe he’d crossed a line, taken something that she hadn’t offered. But he knew that wasn’t right. All he could remember was the affirmative words, the sureness of her hands. The way she’d asked, begged him for more. The way she’d grasped at his skin, tugging him closer and closer until there wasn’t even a slip of empty space left in between them. 

She’d wanted it. She’d wanted him. Just as much as he’d wanted her. 

It’d been dangerous to get close to her to begin with, even just as friends. Letting her know him was a level of intimacy he usually avoided because it left him open to a world of hurt if things went south but he’d been too far gone last night to even chastise himself for the thoughts that were better suited to a teenage boy. Too distracted by the feel of her throat under his lips to wonder if it was a mistake to be touching her at all. 

And now that they’d done everything they’d avoided all these years and he’d found himself alone with the sun shining bright in his room, highlighting the empty space beside him, he was afraid that maybe Rhysand had been right all along.

[thevioletcaptain]

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

[oftwigandbone]

I have had an exhausting week. I am glad I found a way to download the conference videos, because there's just no way I would have been able to watch them all in the allotted timeframe. Work wasn't too bad besides Tuesday, but my step-dad has been having some major pain in his hip and after two emergency room visits they still don't know what it is, that and the news has been taking up space in my brain.

My main goal for the week was to get some studying done despite the conferences going on, and I did manage that much at least. The module we're on now is hepatic herbs and bitters, and it's been so interesting so far. I'm still behind on meeting all the herbs we've talked about, but I prefer to go slowly and take my time with each one than to rush through them. I have six more plants to learn in this module, a test, and then I can do my final exam for this first part of the course!!

It's probably too ambitious to try and get that done over the weekend, but if I can that would be a relief because I'm still technically behind and the nutrition course starts soon so I'd like to be fully caught up before then but I don't know if it's possible.

Other news, I've been working for the last two weeks on trying to get an Etsy shop going. I wanted to sell some of the tea blends that I work with and resources for herbalism students like an herbal journal that I've been designing, but I keep hitting roadblocks with them.

I send my ID for verification three weeks ago, then contacted their support two weeks ago when I still hadn't received word back about it (I'm in Canada, we only have email support here no chat or phone). Finally two days ago they started replying back to me, but now they're saying they can't accept my identification because it's a health card.

Well, I live in Quebec. That is our government ID, because we have universal healthcare and it is mandatory, so there is no point in having another government ID. I don't drive or travel so I don't have a driver's ID or passport, and they're saying that they won't accept anything else. I offered to send them SSN and birth certificate, but they haven't responded yet. I'm sure it doesn't help that I'm trans, so my face "doesn't match" my gender/name.

It sucks because I've been putting a lot of work into the things I wanted to sell. I wasn't plan on making a ton of money or anything, just a few dollars here and there to help offset the cost of my classes. I know you can sell things on Ko-Fi and I think that includes physical products, not sure about tea, but I could at least put up the journal there. It will still be a couple more weeks before it's ready anyway, but ugh... discouraging haha. Maybe things will resolve themselves before then.

[sleepanonymous]

you don't understand, i want to make a thing so badly but i've forgotten how. creative burnout sucks. idk how to make words happen in a coherent fashion anymore beyond vague scenes🥲

The Basic Premise™️ of this snippet is Eli (Vessel) just had a messy breakup, so Zack (II) made him a Tinder profile to get him laid so he can "move on" but emotions happen because Eli is a wreck (read: he fell in love with her at first sight, about 6 hours before this scene)👍

“You weren’t kidding,” V mumbled as she stood in front of the open fridge door. Eli had no idea why it felt so personal— invasive, almost— to have her looking through his refrigerator. To make matters worse, he wasn’t exactly sure what she was seeing from his point of view leaning against the side of the fridge to maintain his indifference. He indeed had not been kidding when he said he didn’t remember the last time he’d been grocery shopping; the last time he had genuinely purchased groceries had been months ago. Going to the shop was Ashley’s thing, and on top of that, he’d only been off tour for a couple of weeks and was still trying to get back into the swing of cooking for himself instead of eating takeout for every meal.

“I’m serious, I don’t mind ordering us food—”

“I can make a mean grilled cheese,” V cut him off as she pulled a block of cheddar cheese out from the depths of the fridge. “Sorry,” she added to the fact that she’d interrupted his offer.

He was torn between wanting to shrug it off, tell her it was fine, or correcting her. “With what grill?” he asked after a long beat, staring blankly.

V’s expression instantly fell, matching the look of mild disdain on Eli’s face. “Don’t even—”

It was Eli’s turn to cut V off now, “You can absolutely make us some cheese toasties, but I do not own a grill for you to grill us some cheese.”

“I am not—” she began to laugh, and Eli fought the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I’m not calling them a fucking ‘cheese toastie!’ It’s grilled cheese!” she argued as she laughed, setting the block of cheese on the kitchen counter near the bread box.

Eli followed, taking a gander into his fridge for himself to settle the anxiety that there was no mold or mildew growing rampant on the shelves since he last opened the door yesterday evening. When he tried to close the door, V suddenly came back, squeezing herself under his arm and the fridge door to grab butter from its compartment, so he stepped backward instead.

“You are the only person in the United Kingdom calling them a ‘grilled cheese,’ darling,” he insisted, crossing his arms loosely.

“Oh, yeah, because British folk have better names for everything. Squirty cream, for example,” V stated sarcastically as she yanked butter from the fridge door, flicking a can of the aforementioned cream for emphasis. Eli’s jaw went tight to try to keep himself from smiling or laughing. On impulse, he reached forward to stop the door from closing as V walked away and grabbed the can, shaking it.

“What’s wrong with the name? It’s cream, it squirts,” he stated, stepping toward’s V and when she turned to look at him, or maybe explain the sexual nature of the name, Eli grabbed onto her jaw and tilted her head up so she was looking at him. “Open,” he told her, and V hesitated for half a second before doing as she was told, lips parting wide and sticking her tongue out; the jewelry there glinted in the sunlight from the kitchen window before it was drowned in white.

At that precise moment, Eli realized what he was doing, hand on her jaw as he watched her pupils envelop the gray-green of her irises, his body caging V between him and the kitchen counter. His gut reaction was to panic, to apologize, to step away from her, to apologize again. Anxiety had turned whatever arousal he felt from the spontaneous action sour, but he didn’t have time to react to that, either, as V half laughed, half gagged on the cream he was still squirting. He yanked the squirty cream can away from her mouth, and before he could form the apology in his mouth, V seized the opportunity with his loosened grip to turn her head and suck his thumb into her mouth, forcing even more froth out of her mouth to stream down her chin.

Okay.

Yeah, this was okay.

He was overreacting.

Be confident, he reminded himself, with V’s own voice in his head. Eli leaned in and covered her mouth with his, replacing his thumb with his tongue, making a mess of them both now; cream was dripping down her jaw, sticking to his chin, the oily sweetness clung to both their tongues. She was on her tiptoes, arms around his neck to keep herself steady, and Eli blindly set the can of squirty cream on the counter behind her before grabbing two handfuls of her hips and pulling her closer to him. The thought crossed his mind that she was wearing too many clothes, even if she was just in one of his t-shirts, and he also had the urge to bite her; her neck, her shoulder, perhaps the underside of her breasts? The soft inside of her thigh? But there would be time for that later, not now. Not after they’d done such a good job of leaving his bedroom to come to the kitchen and forage for food. So, reluctantly, Eli pulled away.

“Fine,” V sighed and opened her eyes to look up at him as her arms fell away. “Squirty cream.”

He tried not to laugh but a huff still escaped him as she lowered back to the soles of her feet. “Grilled cheese,” Eli replied, meeting her halfway.

[jillianrose305]

yandere obey me

sorry I've been gone for so long let me know if you want a part 2

Ok so this is what I assume who is most likley to be a yandere in obey me shall we date . Top 5 first

1.Mammon.

I know leviathan was supposed to be a yandere but belphagor ended up getting that troupe + that jealousy episode he had.but imagine how easy it would be for him. He's your first . Your his. little d No.2 is in on this which is why he says you and mammon would make a cute couple and asks if yall are dating . All he has to do is complain about feeling unwanted by his brothers and all your attention is back on him just how he wants it. He's greedy for you and your attention and he's the second most powerful but I think its because he doesn't try . He can influence luck we know that so anytime you hang out with his brothers suddenly nothing goes well for you or they have short tempers oh how that must make you feel unwanted but don't worry he's always here for you waiting for you to run back into his arms.

2.barbatos

What you don't think the demon of time would be a yandere? You best believe this boy is making sure everything goes according to plan. Since the moment he sall you he needed to know more thats why on his pocket watch he uses his magic so its a small portal to always see what your doing. He doesn't want to get his hands to messy so he simply turns the clock insanely fast forward on the person lifespan who tried to take you he enjoys watching them panic as they get older and more week its his favriote. Sometimes he goes back in time to watch his favriote moments of you. Since he's basically diavolos actual right hand man he can get away with alot. So don't expect it to be to hard for him to keep you.

3. Leviathan

Ah yes the Avatar of envy he gets so jealous when you give anyone else your attention is he not good enough for you. I think we all Remember the line that went somethng like 'Sometimes i think about forcing you to play a game your bad at and only letting you leave my room once you've completed every aspect of it' I can't remember quite exactly though. He's the Admiral of Hells Navy if you even tried to underestimate him he would quickly show you how wrong you are. Him and Henry 2.0 are the only company you need. I also think he has a body pillow of mc hidden somewhere in his room.

4. Belphagor

Ah yes on of our cannon-ish yanderes of obey me. You know he didn't get much time to spend with you as the others. He just loves you so much. Why can't you understand that? He will use his powers to enchant you to find your way up to the attic just like he did so long ago. But this time he's not making the foolish mistake of letting you leave. He will use his youngest sibling privilege to keep you there. He's gotten good at manipulating you in what ever way works best. Don't you want to cuddle with him and wear matching pajamas? C'mon he can't rest without you in his Arms. You aren't gonna take away sleep from the Avatar of Sloth are you?

5.Diavolo

Future king of the Devildom. What can I say he has always wanted to take you from the brothers and keep you for himself plus we know he will probably need someone to rule along side him. You don't want to take that from him do you? Oh well he will just have to make you marry him. You'll learn to love him as much as you once loved this exchange program. He rules this land he will make sure you are always being watched he can't risk you running off or falling in love with someone else now. No bother though if someone so much as thinks about acting on their crush on you they are being publicly executed for all to see. He keeps there blood in vials in his desk. he won't stop you from having a fan club ad long as he's president of it,he can't stop people from loving you just as long as they don't act on it he will let them live for now.

[fallingblueroses]

You can find the first part of the story here.

I used a height-weight chart to estimate Geoff's weight.

I had entirely too much fun writing this.

***

Geoff stood in the makeshift entrance to the ring, waiting to walk through the black curtain and down the aisle to the ring. Layne and Eli had already gone to join the crowd.

He thought about the day he'd been walking by their bedroom door and overheard Kathy on the phone to her mother. The word "treatment" had reached his ears and he'd stopped to listen. "The doctor says I could get seventy-five percent of my hearing back with this new treatment. But the insurance isn't wanting to cover it. They say it's not medically necessary. So I'd have to come up with the money myself....No, I haven't told Geoff yet. There's nothing he can do. You know how he is. He'd only worry about it."

He'd crept away from the door before she'd noticed him. And he had worried about it until he'd seen the flyer for the tournament a week or so later and figured it was worth a shot. He'd surprised even himself when he'd won that first match, and decided to keep it a secret from Kathy. No sense in raising hopes to disappoint her. He'd planned on telling her when he had the money in hand. Well, can't be helped now. I wonder who told her.

A thick French-ish accent broke into Geoff's thoughts. "This is your last chance to back out, pretty man."

Geoff looked over at his opponent. "I've gotten this far. Might as well finish it."

Parkenson's olive-colored, full body tights and mask were covered in patches of fake moss and streaked with painted mud. His mask didn't cover his mouth, and Geoff saw his red beard move in a smile. "I won't be nice out in the ring."

Geoff shrugged. "So I'll be earning my money, then. Fair enough."

Parkenson laughed. "I like you, pretty man. Maybe after the match we'll go for a beer, yes?"

Geoff grinned at him. "Loser buys the first round."

"Ha! It's a bet." Parkenson's music started then, and he swaggered through the curtain. Geoff took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders to gather himself as he waited.

***

Layne sighed as he and Eli found Cesar and the others in the crowd. They had left Geoff backstage just a couple of minutes ago, and as they'd walked out the door he'd called after them. "Keep Kath calm!"

"Oh sure," Eli had muttered with an eye roll. "We get the hard job."

Kathy looked to be almost beside herself when Layne and Eli walked up, and the looks on Cesar's and Omar's faces could only be described as relief. William seemed happy enough as he watched the ongoing bout, but Kathy turned on Layne and Eli. "Where's Geoff?"

"Getting ready," Eli said. "His match is next."

Kathy wrung her hands. "Oh God. Oh, God. He's going to get himself killed! Geoff's a singer, not a wrestler! How did he get this into his head anyway? He doesn't even like wrestling!"

"He's probably doing it for the money," Eli said.

Kathy shook her head. "But we don't need it!"

"Maybe there's something special he wants it for," Omar suggested.

"Like what?"

"How should I know?"

Layne looked at Cesar and Omar. "Has she been like this all night?"

"Yes," Omar said.

Cesar sighed. "When she hasn't been threatening to kill him."

The crowd noise surged as a bell rang three times to signal the end of the match. Eli looked at Layne as the referee held the winner's hand up. "Showtime." He held his phone up and began recording.

Cesar put a hand on William's shoulder. "Your dad's up next! Are you excited!"

"Yeah!" William cheered, then looked at Kathy. "Are you excited, Mommy?" Kathy groaned and put her head in her hands, which made William frown and look at Cesar. "What's wrong with Mommy?"

"She...she's just worried your dad might hurt himself. But he'll be okay." Cesar looked at the rest of them. "Won't he?"

"Oh, sure." Omar nodded.

"Of course," Eli said.

Layne's answer was cut off when the ring announcer began to talk. "The following match is set for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and is the final match in our twenty-five thousand dollar amateur tournament. Now coming to the ring--" Eerie music overlaid with the sound of bubbling water and squelching footsteps began to play over the speakers. "Hailing from the swamps of Louisiana, standing six feet, three inches tall and weighing in at three hundred and twenty-one pounds, Robbyn "Swamp Trash" Parkenson!"

Parkenson walked down the aisle, snarling and growling at the crowd as he went. Layne began to get a little nervous himself as the masked wrestler walked around the ring to the metal steps and climbed in. Parkenson was easily twice Geoff's size and even though Geoff had been doing well so far, Layne didn't see how he wouldn't need a trip to the ER after this. He glanced at the now-silent Kathy, and saw from her expression that she was thinking about the same.

VoicePlay's cover of "Axel F" began to play as the announcer went on. "And his opponent, from right here in Orlando, Florida--" Geoff stepped out from behind the curtain and stood with his hands on his hips and a confident smirk on his face. "--standing five feet, eleven and a half inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and seventy-one pounds, Geoffrey "Dragon Breath" Castellucci!"

Layne watched as Geoff began to walk down the aisle, slapping hands with members of the audience as he went. He rounded the ring on the opposite side from Layne and the others, then once inside he walked to the corner nearest them and climbed on the bottom ropes, one foot on each side of the turnbuckle. His eyes caught sight of Kathy and he blew her a kiss before jumping down to the mat and turning to look at his opponent.

"He's enjoying this!" Kathy said.

"Why not?" Cesar asked.

Eli sighed. "He'd better win this or he's a dead man."

Layne glanced again at Kathy, who seemed to be swinging back toward fury, as the music ended and the bell rang once to start the match. "He might be a dead man either way."

***

Geoff walked toward the center of the ring. Parkenson did the same, until their chests were nearly touching. Parkenson chuckled. "That your lady you blew the kiss to?"

Geoff kept an easy grin on his face. "Yeah. It was."

"Ha. Don't worry, I won't embarass you too much in front of her."

"Just as long as you make me look good."

Parkenson grinned at Geoff, then the two of them grappled.

***

Kathy watched in apprehension as Geoff walked up to stand nose-to-nose with his opponent. Words were exchanged, then they locked up for a few seconds before the Swamp Trash picked Geoff up and threw him down in a body slam. She felt her face scrunch up in a grimace as Geoff half-sat up, obvious pain on his face.

Geoff was pulled by his hair to his feet then whipped into a turnbuckle. He turned his body to hit the metal with his back, and then as his opponent charged in he moved aside. Cesar cheered as the other wrestler hit the turnbuckle chest-first, and then Geoff grabbed his opponent's head and slammed it into the post. The other wrestler stumbled back, and Geoff swept his legs out from under him. The crowd cheered as the opponent hit the mat hard.

The other wrestler quickly got to his feet and they locked arms again. The Swamp Trash grabbed Geoff's arm and whipped him into the ropes. Geoff turned, bounced off the ropes, and ran in. He jumped at his opponent, but the larger man caught him in mid-air. Kathy couldn't help but shriek as Geoff's opponent spun him around and slammed him into the mat again.

***

Geoff ran at Parkenson, intending to go for a splash, but Parkenson caught him in mid-air. Well. That was a mistake.

Parkenson chuckled. "Land well, pretty man." The world tilted as Parkenson spun him around, and Kathy's scream came to his ears as he was body dropped. He felt Parkenson pin him, but managed to get a shoulder off the mat at the count of one.

He let Parkenson pull him off the mat, then gave him an elbow strike to the stomach. He elbowed him twice more before Parkenson pulled him upright and shoved him toward the ropes.

Hit with your back, not your chest, he thought as he twisted his body around. He hooked his arms over the top rope to stop himself, then gave Parkenson a boot to the face when he charged in. Parkenson stumbled back, but charged in again for a spear. Geoff moved aside, and to his surprise Parkenson flew through the ropes and onto the floor.

The referee began the countout, but Geoff got an idea. He went to the corner nearest where Parkenson had landed and began to climb to the top rope.

Kath's going to kill me if I screw this up...

He took a second to gather himself, then jumped off the turnbuckle.

***

"What's he doing?!" Kathy cried as Geoff climbed up the far corner from them.

"Is he gonna try..." Eli's voice trailed off.

"He is," Layne said.

Cesar yelled. "Go, Geoff!"

The referee's count was at seven when the other man's head appeared over the ring mat and Geoff launched himself into the air. Kathy expected him to get caught again, and was shocked when both men fell to the ground. The crowd in that corner went absolutely wild as the referee restarted his count.

Cesar nearly screamed. "Holy shit! That was awesome!"

"Get back in the ring," Eli said. "Get back in the ring..."

Geoff stood up and rolled back into the ring as the referee counted four. Kathy hoped the other man would stay down, but he climbed back in at seven.

The two men grappled again, then broke loose and traded chops and body blows before Geoff's opponent picked him up for a suplex. To Kathy's relief Geoff managed to kick and wriggle enough to force his opponent to put him down--but that relief faded when Swamp Trash kicked him in the stomach and then brought him up for a powerbomb.

"It's over," Layne said.

Cesar cheered as Geoff hung on and began to hit his opponent's head with an open fist. "Not yet!"

The crowd cheered as Swamp Trash stumbled backwards, and then both men hit the mat with a loud banging noise. Neither moved, and the referee began to count.

"Get up Dad!" William yelled. The rest of them, except for Kathy, started to yell encouragement as well. Kathy stared at her husband's body, face down to the mat and unmoving except for his heavy breathing. She didn't care if he was counted out. She just wanted this to stop before--

Geoff lifted himself onto his arms at six, then scrambled to pin his opponent. The referee--and the crowd--got in a two-count before Swamp Trash raised his arm. Geoff sat up and breathed hard for a couple of seconds as his opponent lay still on the mat, and Kathy saw him looking around. He finally stood and climbed onto the corner ropes again.

"Don't do it," Kathy said to herself, shaking her head. "Don't do it..." His opponent was too far away, he'd been down too long, he'd move...

Geoff turned around on the top rope and launched himself into an elbow drop. To Kathy's shock he landed it, then grabbed his opponent's leg and rolled over, lifting the leg in the air and pinning the other man. The crowd counted to three with the referee, and the bell rang to end the match.

Cesar nearly lost his mind as "Axel F" started back up. "He did it!" He gave Omar an opened-mouth kiss, then hugged Kathy, Layne, and Eli before grabbing William's hands and dancing with him. "Your daddy did it! He won!"

William danced with Cesar. "Yeah!" He was all smiles as he looked at Kathy. "He won, Mommy! He won!" Kathy sank down into the chair behind her and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. Eli and Layne looked to be as relieved as Kathy felt.

The announcer's voice came on as the referee helped Geoff to his feet. "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of our twenty-five thousand dollar amateur wrestling tournament, Geoffrey 'Dragon Breath' Castellucci!"

The referee held Geoff's hand in the air for a couple of seconds, then Geoff looked at his opponent who was starting to sit up. The music stopped and the crowd quieted as Geoff held his hand out to the other wrestler. Kathy held her breath, expecting him to attack Geoff, but he let Geoff help him up before they exchanged a fist bump and a quick hug. The crowd cheered and the eerie music began to play as they climbed out of the ring and walked back down the aisle.

Eli looked at Layne. "Well, I guess we'd better get back there and help Geoff get ready to go."

"Hold it." Kathy stood back up and held her hand out. "Pass." Eli sighed and handed her his backstage pass, and Kathy looked at Layne. "Lead the way."

"Don't let her hurt him too much," Omar called as they walked off.

Layne sighed. "I get the hard job."

***

Parkenson's spirits were high as he and Geoff walked through the curtain and backstage. "You did better than I expected, pretty man! You were showing off for your lady, yes? Perhaps next time I should bring a pretty lady to show off for! She would bring me luck!"

They entered the locker room and Geoff gratefully sat down on a bench to catch his breath as Parkenson talked on and began to change. "And as we agreed, we'll go out and I'll buy the first round. Bring your lady and your friends! We'll get drunk and raise Cain until we're thrown out."

Geoff was about to answer when he heard Kathy's voice. "Geoff?!"

Parkenson grinned. "Your lady?"

"Yep." Geoff sighed. "Over here, Kath."

Kathy quickly came up to him with Layne right behind. Her face was pale as she looked at him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Kath. I'm fine."

"Good. Now--" Her hand cracked across his face. "What were you thinking?!"

Geoff rubbed his slapped cheek. "Kath--"

"Don't 'Kath' me! Do you have any idea how worried I was out there watching you get manhandled?"

"I knew you'd worry. That's why I didn't tell you what I was doing." A thought occurred to him, and he glanced at Layne. "Who ratted me out?"

"Nobody," Kathy said. "I put a GPS tracker on the van and followed you."

Geoff stared at her. "Why'd you do that?"

"Why?" Kathy nearly shrieked. "I wanted to see where you were going! I thought I'd find you sneaking around with another woman, not trying to get permanently disabled!"

Geoff frowned at her. "Wait. You thought I was cheating on you?"

"You were leaving the house every Saturday, not telling me where you were going, coming home late, and you could barely walk the next day! What was I supposed to think?"

Geoff sighed. "All right. That's fair."

"What--what was all this about, anyway?" Kathy demanded. "Why would you even do this?"

He held her gaze. "We needed the money, Kath."

"Did we go bankrupt and I missed it? What did we need the money for?"

"Your treatments."

"My treatments? I'm not getting any--" Her voice cut off and her hands went to her mouth. There was silence for a few seconds, and her eyes were wide and her voice soft when she spoke next. "You--you heard me talking to Mom about that?"

"Yeah. I did." Geoff sighed. "I know it's not going to be enough, but I thought--"

Kathy practically jumped into his arms. "You idiot." Her voice was thick. "You...you sweet, wonderful, empty-headed dork."

Layne finally relaxed and smiled at Geoff. "I think you're forgiven."

Geoff hugged Kathy close to him. "I sure hope so. It'll be a long night if I'm not." He looked at Parkenson. "I think I'll have to collect on that bet another time."

Parkenson grinned. "Hey, little lady comes first, I know. If you're ever in New Orleans, come visit! I'll make you a pot of my famous alligator gumbo. It'll put hair on your chest!"

Geoff chuckled as he gently patted Kathy's back. "I'll take you up on that sometime."

***

Everyone ended up going back to Geoff's house to celebrate. Kathy ordered pizza and Cesar picked out a movie from Geoff's collection. William fell asleep halfway through the movie, and Geoff put him to bed. Once the movie was over the others left, and Geoff and Kathy did a quick cleanup before going to their bedroom.

Geoff got a shower, and after he'd dried and dressed he got into bed next to Kathy. She moved closer and hugged him. "So are you actually going to get that money?"

"The promoter said I should get the check in the mail in about a week." Geoff yawned and put an arm around her. "He offered me a contract too."

Sleepy eyes looked up at him. "Tell me you turned it down."

"Yeah, I did."

"Good." Kathy smiled. "You're a singer, not a wrestler. Remember that." She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Yes, dear." Geoff kissed the top of her head.

"I still can't believe you did that for me," Kathy said.

"If the treatments do some good it'll be worth it." He yawned. "Eli said he's going to post some clips of the match on VoicePlay's Patreon."

Kathy chuckled. "The fans will love it." A pause. "I guess VoicePlay fans and wrestling fans don't have much of an overlap. No one made a single comment about you wrestling."

"I guess not." He'd been worried about that for the first couple of weeks, and it had surprised him that no one had said anything. Not that he'd complained. "We'd better get some sleep." He kissed her again. "Goodnight. Love you."

"Goodnight." Kathy yawned. "Love you too." Geoff had a fond smile on his face as he watched her drift off, and it wasn't long before he was falling asleep as well.