#makes me curious whether there were influences

[angstigone]

me watching 'la casa de papel' with my parents and a redhaired giving mommy issues c*p shows up 'is this a csm reference?'

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

*

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.

Words: 2,3k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).

Saturday afternoon

“Two dollars?!”

Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.

You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.

It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.

“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”

Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.

“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.

“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.

It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.

“My love life is going downhill.” You said.

Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.

“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”

“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.

“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”

At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”

“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.

You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.

“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”

“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”

“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”

You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.

“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”

Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”

“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”

When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.

“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”

You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.

However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.

“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.

“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.

“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”

“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.

“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.

You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”

They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.

You weren't going to lose your mind over this.

Monday morning

You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.

All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.

But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.

A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.

“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.

But obviously, it wasn't him.

“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.

“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.

In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.

“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.

“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.

He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm sorry, I just thought—”

“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”

That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.

“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.

His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.

“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.

The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side.

“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.

Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.

“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I...I thought you—” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.

“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it—” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.

“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”

With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.

“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.

He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”

“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”

Perhaps he was your prince after all.

[redr0sewrites]

Sub!Jayce x reader Hcs

incredibly influenced by this convo i had w ellie ( @bigfatbimbo ) urgrhgrhrhrhr hes soooo

🥀Cw: smut!!!, sub!jayce, dom!reader, humiliation, sub top, exhibitionism kink idk what its called

🥀minors dni

🥀Character(s): Jayce Talis x reader

this man is suuuuch a sub, but he wouldn't admit it, at least not until he meets you

jayce is a very confident person, and you'd assume that would carry over into the bedroom, but nooo. the first time you were both intimate he was so pathetically unsure of what to do that you just had to take control for him. he tried to act dominant and in-control, but the second he started thrusting into you he was a needy mess.

he was so confident leading up to it, but he just gets so flustered :(

jayce is so embarrassed about how submissive he is, and is probably a little shy at first. he definitely needs some coaxing to "get out of his shell" per se, and would probably muffle his moans and be a little awkward in general

this man is a WHINER i just know he's so loud in bed and he can not control it. his voice gets all hoarse and raspy from panting, and he has the neediest wanton moans, it genuinely sounds like he's in a porno because of how loud and lewd they are

his volume has probably led to you two almost being caught on multiple occasions, he genuinely has no control but gets SO embarrassed about the thought of getting caught. it turns him on a little, and the fact that it does only makes him more embarrassed

more than once he's fantasized about you fucking him in the council room, risking it all just for the thrill of possibly being discovered

jayce would be SO flustered if you teased him about it, if you began whispering in his ear about how you coincidentally forgot to lock the door to your room, and how just about anyone could just walk in? he's already whining, and he'll cum within seconds

"aw, how would the council feel if they saw you being fucked like this?imagine if they could all see you like this, all needy and pathetic for me," type of shit, he'd fold in seconds

jayce is definitely kinky too, but he takes his time discovering himself. he isn't super willing to try new things at first, however over time he becomes more and more confident in doing kinkier shit, especially with someone he trusts

guys. sounding with jayce. HEAR ME OUT. he'd be SO embarrassed, like he knows how anatomy works and all, but he never really thought of something like that, and he'd probably be cocky too, thinking that it wouldn't even feel that good. imagine using a vibrating sounding rod on him and double tapping him too, irgrhrrhrgrhrrh he'd be so needy and fucked dumb

he never tried anything with anal/pegging before you, but he can't deny that he isn't at least curious. he'd mention it offhandedly, hoping that you'd get the hint, but don't make it that easy for him. fluster him, make him say it aloud and admit that he wants you to fuck him like that, and then praise him for being so sweet about asking while fucking him absolutely senseless. whether you have a dick or a strap he doesn't care, jayce would love it regardless

this is kind of a random hc, but he probably masturbates a lot. i mean, it's natural, he's pretty stressed most of the time, and even when he's with you he has an insane libido and would probably still masturbate a lot. however, his favorite form of getting off? pillow humping. don't ask me how i know, i just do, because i'm right. imagine the mighty councilman talis, the man of progress himself, humping a pillow like a bitch in heat because he's too needy to wait. sometimes he'll imagine that it's you beneath him, and he'll moan your name as he cums, thinking you can't hear. this leads to you both discovering that this man has a major kink for dry humping, he loves either sitting in your lap or having you sit in his and just getting off fully clothed. i also think he'd enjoy lap dances too, and would ride your thigh too. i ALSO think jayce would enjoy it if you rode his thigh, i mean.... c'mon who wouldn't want to

ok but like... sub!top jayce. me thinks yes. making him top you as a punishment and forcing him to fuck you. you take care of him all the time, shouldn't he return the favor? jayce desperately wants you to take control, flip him over and fuck him senseless, but your silky words and sweet praises make him want to make you cum even more. he would definitely manage to make you cum, he knows what he's doing, but he's really whiny and needy about it and would need some reassurance

look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't like being manhandled a little. you can't because your wrong. he totally would. jayce is used to people giving him what he wants and he's absolutely the type to get off to being pushed around. he wouldn't mind being folded into deep sex positions or even being slapped a bit, as long as you praise him afterwards

PRAISE KINK!!! i do think he has a degrading kink too, but it's definitely mostly praise. he gets a bit insecure sometimes, and the only way to get out of his own head is to be fucked silly and senseless by you while you whisper the sweetest words in his ears. he wouldn't mind a healthy mix of degrading/objectifying and praise tho, if you called him your "pretty slut" he'd think it was hot but if you started genuinely degrading him he would probably cry and get really clingy afterwards

i think his biggest kinks would be PRAISE, oral fixation (absolutely will elaborate if asked. please ask.), hair pulling, DRY HUMPING, somnophilia/sleepy sex (again, ABSOLUTELY will elaborate), breeding kink (👀), and obviously exhibitionism. i also think he'd have a little bit of a hand kink/fetish but would not admit it. if he saw you wearing a lot of rings, or if you're hands just look really nice in general, he would get a little turned on but won't say why. he thinks your hands look really nice around his neck too... 😇

"fuck- hngh-" Jayce bit down hard on the back of hand, attempting to muffle his moans as you rub his cock. you were seated on his lap, your hand wrapped around his thick girth as you jerked him off. within the confines of your shared bedroom you could be as filthy as you liked, yet it seemed Jayce was still too shy to fully let out his moans yet.

"aw, poor baby," you croon, speeding up the pace ever so slightly and paying attention to the tip of his leaky cock. his dick twitches against your palm as your thrusts quicken, Jayce's hips jerking upwards in response to the stimulation.

"hic- plea- please," he gasps, his hand hovering over his mouth as he throws his head back. "well, since you asked so nicely~" you tease, slowing down to painfully slow thrusts. Jayce lets out a sob, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes with each of your ministrations. he had lost count of the times you had teased him to near-release, only to ruin his orgasm at the last second. his abs clench with each stroke of his cock, and you can tell your pretty boy's patience is wearing thin. he really was too cute!

"Jayce," you murmur, speeding up again to catch his attention. his glossy, fucked out gaze meets yours, and you begin to jerk him off faster. with a gasp, his hand flies to your wrist, whether to push you away or to hold you there you were unsure. "s'too much!" he babbles, a few tears streaming down his cheeks as the coil in his abdomen tightens.

"aw, don't you want to be good f'me? you can take it, can't you?" Jayce nods, his dick twitching eagerly witth each thrust against your palm. you can tell he's close, and you decide to reward him. "can i- can i please-"

"you can cum, Jayce." with your reassurance, Jayce throws his head back, not even bothering to smother his moans as he cums so hard he swears he sees stars. his thighs shake as he coats himself in his own cum. as he comes down from his high, you gently massage his shoulders, tethering him back to reality as he steadies his breathing.

"you still with me, Counselor Talis?" Jayce grumbles, pulling you in close. "don't call me that. to you, 'm Jayce. nothing to else." you giggle, melting into his embrace. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?" you ask, and he nods, wordlessly following you like a lost puppy towards your shared bathroom. you both know damn well that this is probably going to lead to another round of steamy shower sex, yet he follows you in with the smallest smirk on his lips. what a man.

i will always be the number one jayce defender i do not CAREEEEE he's trying his best. i know nothing about leavue of legends lore and im basing this solely off of arcane, but i genuinely sympathize w him and idk why people hate him sm

[bratphilia]

his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

[midnight-writing]

Poolside Confessions

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x gn!reader

Series: The Summer I Turned Pretty

Summary: One late-night talk by the pool leads to realizations between Conrad and you.

Word Count: 1,641

Warnings: Light marijuana usage

A/N: I tried to keep this gender neutral. Reader is written on the shyer side, just didn’t want to add too many modifiers to the pairing. No use of y/n. Not beta read.

The sun is low in the sky as you gaze out through the kitchen window toward the back patio. The horizon is starting to shift from light hues of blue to a blend of yellows and reds. The view is beautiful, but you’re instead focused on the figure sitting at the pool edge. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to see Conrad sitting out there, somewhere on the edge of the pool, but for some reason you had the urge to join him this time. Fortunately for you, you weren’t involved in any of the conversations going on in the kitchen where you were all sitting or standing around. So you slip your way past the kitchen archway, over to the patio doors then out the back. 

You pad your way down the steps toward Conrad, trying to at least make some noise with your bare feet so you don’t startle him. You sit down next to him, keeping a decent space between you both in case he really doesn’t want to be bothered right now. As close as the two of you are, it’s still difficult sometimes to see the signs of whether he actually wants to be alone. When you’ve sat —your knees tucked to your chest and your hands wrapped around them— he doesn’t shift or make any attempt to move away, a good sign. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, not yet looking at you, his eyes set on the pool water as he lifts a joint to his mouth. 

“Managed to escape like you did,” you reply and rub your shins absentmindedly to induce some heat. Shorts and a tank top had worked well for the daytime temperatures, but as the sun left the sky, a light chilly breeze came in. He doesn’t respond, instead he simply holds out the rolled-up piece of paper, you take the joint, put it to your lips and breathe in, letting the smoke ruminate a moment before you breathe it out. “Too many conversations at once,” you add on then hand it back to him. You enjoyed the company but there were too many voices, some too loud for you. Leaving the house not only gave you a chance to indulge your curiosity about Conrad but it let you calm your anxiety. 

“Oh and here I was thinking you came out to see me,” he teases, “I’m offended,” he sets a hand on his heart. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “I did come out here to see you, dork, getting away was just an added plus,” 

“Yeah, I’ll buy that for now,” he takes another hit of the joint, but when it's your turn and you reach for the joint, he leans back on one hand and uses the other to hold the cigarette far from you. 

“What- hey, I thought we were sharing now,” you question as you reach for it. 

“After you just called me dork?” his eyebrows scrunch slightly. 

“Oh come on,” as you reach for the joint, he’s leaned back, and you’ve turned your body to face him as you lean over him slightly. He just puffs smoke at your face in response, that smug look on his face returning. You sigh in defeat and sit back beside him once again, inches closer this time. 

“Seems like I’m a bad influence, especially if you’re willing to try and fight me for my own weed,” he turns to finally look at you. He knows that the one goal you have this summer is to socialize more, yet here you are. 

“The worst,” you reply as you take the joint when he finally holds it out to you again.  

“What were they talking about?” He's curious, you know he needs the space but you’re also aware that missing out on conversations can still bug him sometimes. 

You think back to the kitchen, “One was about something funny that happened at Jeremiah’s job today and another was about Laurel’s new love interest,” you smile at those last words. You’ve been friends with Belly for years now and have subsequently been to the vacation house quite a few times in the past few summers. Over the time you’ve known Belly you’ve gotten to know her family amongst others in her circle, which is how you got to know the Fishers. 

“Cleveland,” he says knowingly. 

“Mhm” 

“Does it seem serious? It’s been a while since she’s seemed interested in anyone like that,” 

“I’d say so,” you nod with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “They definitely like each other at least,” you add. 

You sit there quietly for a few beats. Simply passing the joint back and forth. He’s caught you rubbing your arms for warmth this time and within a few seconds his sweater is off and he’s holding the maroon fabric towards you. 

You know he won’t take it back despite being left in only a shirt, wordlessly you take it and slip it on over your shoulders. Your senses are doused by the smell of his cologne mixed with the salty water of the nearby beach. You do your best to not purposely inhale more and try to focus on simply adjusting the collar.

“So,” he finally breaks the silence, “Do you have any love interests?” he mocks the tone you’d used earlier. 

Yes, you think, but instead you ask, “Do you?”

“You’re avoiding the question,” he tilts his head at you slightly with a raise of his brows. 

“I plead the fifth,” you decide.

“Seriously? I'm just asking, you’re not under arrest,” he chuckles. 

“So if I try to run you won’t stop me?” you ask. 

He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh as he shakes his head at your evasions. 

You’re unsure what to say. You do have a crush, however, said crush is sitting right next to you, completely unaware of your dilemma. You aren’t sure if you are ready to tell him. Tell him that you’ve been crushing on him ever since that pool party during your second summer in Cousins, that your best friend technically had dibs. For the longest time you’d decided to bury that infatuation for Belly’s sake. She’d grown up with the boy, confided in you when she was swooning for him with no clear sign of requited love. You did your best to be there for her. 

Now, however, she’s infatuated with a new boy. Cameron. She has been for a while now and it doesn’t seem like there’s any sign of it going away soon. Belly had even gone along with Taylor’s comments about you and Conrad, a good sign, yet you still didn’t trust it. 

“Fine,” you concede. “I’ll only tell you, if you tell me who you have your sights set on,” you attempt.

“Deal,” you held up your pinky finger and he intertwined his own with yours. “There’s this boy…,” you begin as your hands fall away, and you can swear you see Conrad’s shoulder fall slightly. You decide to focus on the water instead. “He’s hmm…,” you try to choose your words carefully. “He’s… thoughtful, puts himself before other people, kind of broody sometimes, funny… oh and he’s taller than me,” your final comment earns a chuckle from the boy. 

“Does every crush of yours need to be taller than you?” he questions, “Both Alex and Bailey were,” he adds to prove his point. 

You give him a push on the shoulder, “Coincidences,” you state. 

“Anyways, your turn,” you turn to look at him. 

He runs a hand against the back of his neck. “Okay, so they’re really sweet, smart, doesn’t take any of my shit…, oh and they are shorter than me,” he mimics the excitement you’d used earlier when giving that last detail. 

“You didn’t tell me their name,” you point out. 

“Neither did you,” 

“Touché,” you sigh. Something stirs in your gut, a mix of butterflies and nausea because you’d just confessed your feelings about Conrad to himself and he seems to be crushing on someone else. “Have they shown any signs of liking you back?” you ask as casually as you can, ready to offer advice if that’s what he’s been searching for. 

“I’m not sure, they think I’m a dork apparently… so it’s hard to tell,” he chuckles lightly but it’s leaning more towards nervous laughter than full on amusement. 

“Sounds like-,” your laugh is cut short by your thoughts, you wanted to say that she sounds like someone you’d get along well with but then it dawns on you. “Oh,” you slowly turn your head towards him. He’s looking at you with that smug smile on his face, unlike you, he is way better at hiding his nerves. Your cheeks are already heating up and you can feel that nausea settle in. 

“Took you long enough…,” you want to kiss smack that smug look right off his face. 

“Blame the weed…?” you smile nervously.

Those few inches left between you are crossed as he pulls you closer to him by your waist. You turn to face him properly, propping yourself with an arm. The smell of weed lingers in the air, but the joint has been put out for a while now. 

“I was talking about you, in case that wasn’t obvious…,” you almost stutter over your words. 

“You were?” he asks but you can hear the sarcasm as plain as day. 

You nudge his shoulder with your palm, “Shut up,” 

“Why don’t you make me,” he quips back. Then the distance between your lips is covered as you bring your mouth to his, resting a hand on his shoulder to support yourself. Luckily, at this point the patio is shrouded in darkness, and one would really have to squint to see your silhouettes.  “This okay?” you ask, and he nods before kissing you again. 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

The Beast Wants to Tempt the Little Rabbit (Epilogue)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.

Matias: "Don't move, or else I won't be able to get it off."

(Get off what?)

His fingers tickled my cheek for a moment before moving away.

Matias: "I finally got it."

Emma: "Was there something on me?"

Matias: "Just a hair."

Emma: "I didn't notice, thank you."

(Maybe it was his way of not interfering with my mysterious rule, just because I mentioned I have to space out once a day.)

(I really think he's a kind person. He even politely goes along with my lies.)

------------Flashback-----------

Matias: "A crime is a crime. Your excuses hold no meaning."

Matias: "If you still wish to make excuses, do so in court."

Matias: "Whatever the reason, the law is something that must never be broken."

Matias: "Criminals have no right to beg for mercy."

---------Flashback Ends--------

I became a little curious.

Emma: "Could you teach me about the law now?"

I placed my hand on the law book, and he nodded.

Matias: "Sure. As a token of my gratitude to you."

Emma: "Then, may I ask one thing?"

Emma: "Is there no leniency in Acroite's laws?"

(This has been bothering me for a while now.)

In Rhodolite, judgments often consider the circumstances of the offender.

(But judging from his attitude earlier, it seems like Acroite...)

Matias: "I can't say there's none at all."

Matias: "There used to be, but now, as a matter of principle, there isn't. Regardless of the circumstances, we uphold equality under the law."

(Just as I thought.)

Matias: "Strict laws have contributed to making Acroite the safest country on the continent."

Matias: "For example, crimes like fraud rarely occur because everyone in the country knows that the law is strict."

Emma: "Are the punishments severe as well?"

Matias: "Compared to your country, yes, they are. There's no need to show mercy to criminals."

Matias: "Everything is the fault of the guilty. This is the unshakeable foundation of justice."

(His country seems quite cold.)

While I believe that humans are creatures prone to making mistakes, his attitude suggests he doesn't even forgive those mistakes.

(Is this justice for the sake of equality?)

(My emotions might influence me, but I guess that's one way to look at it.)

I accepted his views without affirming or denying them.

Matias: "By the way, is there a specific number of minutes for your rule of spacing out?"

Emma: "It's over now! Sorry for the trouble!"

Emma: "I'll focus on your lecture from now on. Thank you in advance!"

Matias: "Leave it to me. I'll cram the law basics into you in a few hours."

By the time we left the shop, the sky had already turned red.

(I might have underestimated the lecture.)

The lecture in which he began using the book turned out to be more comprehensive than I thought.

I was able to understand everything thanks to his easy-to-understand explanations, but perhaps due to the dense content, I still felt a little dizzy.

Matias: "Sorry. I got a bit carried away."

Emma: "Please don't apologize! It was very informative."

Matias: "Well, if you say so, but I may have overdone it since you were listening so attentively."

Matias: "I often get told off by my juniors for this, but finding the right balance is tricky."

Matias: "Especially with women. Honestly, this is my first time giving a lecture to a woman."

Matias: "I'll have to imagine and practice every possible scenario when I go home."

(This is his first time giving a lecture to a woman.)

I was surprised because most of the women we passed by would look at him when he was just walking around like this.

Jin and Nokto often attract female attention, but in his case, I feel a compelling "force" akin to butterflies drawn to honey.

Emma: "Are there no women around you?"

Matias: "There are plenty. But they're all unique."

Matias: "Whether they are as pretty as butterflies or as lovely as bunnies, they all change their attitude when I approach them."

(Ah.)

Matias: "But you, on the other hand..."

Suddenly, Matias stopped in his tracks.

Matias: "Miss Emma, are you sure there's nothing wrong with you when you're with me?"

Emma: "Hmm, I don't think so."

The moment I replied, it was as if a dam had burst, and his charm overflowed, leaving me breathless with its intensity.

(He might be like this, but his presence feels like it's breaking some law.)

The overflowing charm of the most law-abiding prince, who seems to have gone to destroy order himself, is a guilty verdict in every sense.

(But he doesn't seem to be aware of it.)

Matias: "You're my only hope."

Emma: "Huh?"

He smiled warmly and clasped both of my hands.

Matias: "I thought I would never meet my ideal queen because women's attitudes often change, but..."

Matias: "If there's a woman as level-headed as you, there's still a chance."

Matias: "And someday, we'll greet the morning together, wrapped in a blanket, watching the early snow."

Emma: "Prince Matias?"

Matias: "Ahem. Anyway, you're my hope."

Matias: "I now have another reason to thank you."

(I may not fully understand everything he's dealing with, but he seems to have his own struggles.)

Emma: "I've received more than enough thanks today. I hope you find your wonderful queen."

Matias: "Yeah."

Emma: "And, Prince Matias, my house is just around the corner."

Matias: "I see. That was quicker than I thought. I guess this is it then."

Emma: "Yes. Your lecture was fun and informative. I feel like I've become a bit smarter! Thank you for today."

Matias: "That's what makes you such a lovely woman."

(That charm again.)

Dizziness washed over me as he smiled charmingly. I tried to let go of his hand, but he held on tightly, stopping me.

Matias: "Would it bother you if I said I find it hard to leave?"

Emma: "Did you say something?"

Matias: "No, it must be your imagination."

(----?)

Matias: "If there's another chance, I'll teach you anything you want to know."

Emma: "In that case, I'd like to hear about your student days next."

(I'm really curious about their student life.)

Matias: "Sure. There's no shortage of stories from our school days."

With a sudden change of demeanor, he lifted my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers.

Matias: "Until we meet again."

Matias: "Emma, I sincerely appreciate it."

Emma: "Likewise."

He reluctantly released my hand and walked away.

His beautiful figure gradually grew distant, and the gaze of the women also shifted away. 

(Matias is a kind and good person, but I wouldn't want to meet him in a courtroom.)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Matias End ╎ Epilogue

[jozlyn-moon]

The Cipher Twins

Ford’s Journal Entry:

(It’s long! And one of the first Journal Entries I’ve gone fully into making!)

“How and Why that devil managed to “conceive”, and I use this term loosely, is beyond me. Especially when it’s taken in mind how careful with planning he chooses to be. But the outcome of two children that share such gains of his power is.. well- reckless, but that does give us a view that he isn’t as on his game as much as he once was, which in my eyes shows as a beacon of hope. Continuing though-

These two have been an eye opening pain in the ass to deal with in all the years that they’ve had to be in my life… and that’s saying quite a bit. From the oddities that sprout from their father’s genes to the oddities that come from each of their unique personalities that stem from their own special quirks, to study them has been an experience. Though, if I shouldn’t lie.. I may have chosen a favorite of the two for one reason or another and even if either manages to get a hand on my writing their opinion would not much matter in the end.

To begin on the first, Lily Cipher, a rambunctious but albeit pleasant kid to be around. An attribute which I could only give thanks to in the mother’s raising of both of the twins which I presumed had fortunately been enough to quell any evil nature that may have been held in her soul. Along with the fact that there had been no contact with the father in her and her sibling’s upbringing. Ignoring that fact- She can be described as a great help around the lab, seeing as age and stress have worn down my ability to keep steady with my motor and cognitive skills… she comes in handy as a shockingly fast learner, but to no surprise really as much as I don’t want to point the praise at where the origin of the ability may have come from, I do have my guesses to who it was passed down from.

She is a very curious and hyperactive child as well, being quite fascinated in the little things and anything that moves, she could only remind me of Mabel in her younger years in the most bitter sweet way possible. I pray for the moment that she’s alright.. but besides that point-

I find that she’s been a large help in also understanding, if not, being able to decrypt the genetics of my enemy, with her ability to shape shift into a form similar to the beings of Bill’s late home dimension, flatlanders as they’re called, she has given key samples of skin and DNA that have properties no normal being can handle nor have. I believe she and her brother are direct keys in Bill’s downfall. And while I wish to be optimistic to the outcomes of their existence at the current time, I do hold dread for whats to come. As while I may have positive outcomes with the more sweet hearted sibling… I have trouble describing the short tempered and snide one as such. Liam is another whole pile of bones to dissect but i’ll get to his summary soon enough.

Lily, and what baffles me the most about her, is how something so, well giddy and sweet by nature, can come out of such a creature that can be so, by choice, dangerously and maliciously evil. But then again, that damn triangle had always had his charms at his hand, so it wouldn’t be a complete surprise if that had passed along to his spawn.

And as much as I want to be paranoid of my enemy’s daughter, seeing first hand her grow up with no influence of her father’s morals and presence due to her mother separating from that devil before either of the twins were born- it lets me ponder on the thought of the nature vs nurture theory and how whether or not natures of the parents pass down to the kin and how much it actual effects their psyche.

Albeit with Lily, she works on her own will with a good moral stand point and natural urge to uplift others in sometimes slightly odd but endearing ways. Though i’m afraid that it’s her brother that leaves me still questioning the nature vs. nurture stand point, as I couldn’t say the same completely for her twin.

Liam Cipher, a more reserved kid but leaning on socially aloof by choice, is one who leaves me sleeping with one eye open. Literally. Seemingly gained the temper of his father along with a slew of other worrying traits that I would rather not be in the presence of while someone has lit his fuse. He is the sole reason why I had to ban or at the least limit the use of both of their magic to the mundane and simple party tricks after an incident with him that cost me half my sight with a fit he threw when he was younger.

Though as his mother insists to me greatly, it’s not the child’s fault for the traits he was born with, he can’t help himself she claims. And while true to some extents I can’t help but feel the dread towards the thought of another Bill like being sprouting due to the “freak accident” of them being somehow made into existence. From the personality to even the damn voice that the kid shares with himself and his devil of a father, I can’t just shake off the feeling of a tense shiver that always crawls up my back when thinking of him growing older.

The only saving grace, and what calms my already paranoid nerves falls upon the ones I could think have a good hand in quelling those unsavory traits, the one’s I label the family buffers. I.e his mother, sister, and at times the cousins that are there to talk him down out of a potential blow out. I couldn’t even dare muster the thoughts to wonder what he’d turn to if his mother nor his “siblings”, if I could even loosely consider the cousins as such, weren’t there to quell his snappy nature. But for the sake of my cortisol levels, I can’t let those scenarios overcome my already racing thoughts because I have enough to deal with now in taking care of both of the twins that have been enough of a hassle on my growing age.

Liam for the most part has made it clear that he has a distaste for me, I believe sprouting from my coldness towards his mother for being deceptive at the beginning of our begrudging guardianship over the kids. And he places it as if I have no good reason, if it wasn’t clear that I have some bother that hiding the children of that damned demon under my nose with what current family I have left wasn’t something to not be chastised for. Not to mention that her withholding from the implicit truth had allowed me and my great great niece and nephew to harbor an attachment to the twins which if I had known before hand their origin… would not have ended well for her.

But I am not heartless, I do understand the fears that may have accompanied the weight of telling the truth at the time. And I’ve learnt that I shouldn’t be one to not swallow my pride and say I know I would have probably acted rashly. But as someone who freshly lost what family they had left at the time I feel as if it would’ve been just.

I don’t hate either of them, even while one may be more a pain in the ass than the other. I do believe I care for them in some sense. Liam is a help to me greatly, I won’t downplay that factor at all, he’s the one that helps me draw in the newer journal entries and goes out to scout with Chloe to do some cartography of the surrounding landscape. A quirk he seems to be great at with a sense of great direction and keen eyesight, something even younger me couldn’t get down right away. My body can only do so much these days as I’ve already made my point earlier that my hands and even now legs can’t do what they did often like they used to.

He’s smart, more smart than he gives himself props for, he knows how to channel a certain charisma and silver tongue that lets him find the best supplies, of course if it isn’t the case that he had stole them in the first place. And like his sister, there is no second thought to where he got that ability from, but it’s better to not dwell on it, just for my sake at least.

Both are a handful in their own ways, but they have grown on me- and they do hold insight in how we may be able to stop weirdmaggedon once and for all.

And I pray that it can be in time.”

(If you made it down here thanks for reading it! I want to make sure I have Ford’s characterization down to some extent 😭 My grammar may not be all that great but I tried lol)

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟖

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: light smut, angst, language, sexual tension, teasing

Word Count: 5814

A/N: English is not my first language.

Your fingertips reached out the eagle symbol as your hands moved over the hard plate on his chest while you remained seated on his lap. Soldier Boy continued to watch every move you made. As the minutes went on, his grasp on your stomach grew softer, and you started to question your ability to truly influence his thoughts over Cate and other things. You hoped you would be able to go back inside his heart and that he would be able to love you without missing the times that you were reluctant to remember.

You wanted to make things right because you felt a strong draw toward him, even if you weren't sure how.

You were cool with it if he wanted you to Temp-V so he wouldn't force your mind to surrender you to the merciless hands of another Supe. You were obviously anxious to discover your dynamics with him, but you must have done it many times with him. You were curious about how he treated you in bed. The idea heated your cheeks. 

As if sensing it, he remarked in a playful tone, “What are you thinking now?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just us.”

Your answer warmed his heart. If he couldn't remember every detail of the times you had spent together, he would say it was deja vu. But you were back on his lap, telling him that all you could think about was him and you. You sounded precisely the same, as if you were deliberately recreating that same moment, so he wondered whether he was right to think that you were different. But all memories were forgotten, and here you were in his arms. 

You made an effort to approach him more closely than you had previously, and you inquired, “Are you okay too, though? Instead of focusing on finding Cate and forcing me to recall things, considering extending my time.”

He said, “On one condition.” His hands seemed softer now, like if he could pull them back at any second. 

“I already accepted taking that thing you mentioned, Temp-V.”

“There is one more,” he said with determination. His expression was serious. 

“What now?” You sighed. He was constantly asking something more.

“If you can't remember a single thing in a month, you will agree to get help from Cate.”

You instantly said, “No way!” and were irate that he hadn't even given you six months. You had doubts; he cared about your feelings much. “You're being cruel. Let me have four months.”

With a tone of rage, “Fuck no,” Soldier Boy tightened his hold on your body. “One and a half.”

You sighed, seeing how quickly he was growing furious. “You're asking too much from me, you know.” There was something different about his rage. 

“How it's too much when I want the woman I loved to come back to me.”

The way he utilized the past tense made your body tense. Your mood fell as you realized that, despite your best efforts, there was still some distance between you. Your palms touched the eagle symbol on his chest and then went gently down to the belt, which had a star symbol on it. Soldier Boy felt regret after realizing what he had just said, but instead of offering an apology, he said nothing that would have made you feel even worse. 

You were reaching out to him, and he was reaching out to you, but your efforts were going in separate directions. Why did he find it so difficult to accept you as you are? Was the difference between the old and new you really that much? You questioned if you were really that annoying.

You muttered, “Give me three months then,” without responding to what he had just said. There was a hint of disappointment in your voice. It was difficult to control how you were feeling.

With annoyance, Soldier Boy examined your face and inhaled deeply. “One and a half. That's all I will give. Discussion is over.”

“No.”

“For God's sake,” he murmured in frustration. You began to become enraged with him for his impatient manner since he was being so persistent. At least he could acknowledge some of your decisions while you were being so kind, even if he didn't like your new version.

You scowled and tried to get to your feet to break free of his hold, but his hands stopped you with ease. Soldier Boy drew you closer to his body with a serious look, saying, “Stop moving.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and said, “You stop being a stubborn asshole.” Then, with a rapid motion that brought your body even closer to his, you gasped, “Ow!” as his iron belt hurt your stomach.

Soldier Boy instantly released his hold on you. His expression was one of perplexity, as though he hadn't realized what he was doing. You questioned how you managed to stay with him for so long given how harsh he was and had such a temper. 

“Language.” With a hint of irritation in his tone, he playfully responded, “Show some respect to your man. That's what happens when you don't listen to me.” He replaced your body back on his lap. He looked over your stomach and raised your t-shirt a little higher to see if you were hurt. It burned a bit, but there was just a slight scretch. 

For a split second, you felt like a foolish young girl because of your excitement at his remarks. “I wonder how I survived with you,” you muttered once more as you stopped physically battling with him. Soldier Boy's fingers lightly touched the small mark on your stomach, giving him a disappointed expression, yet his expression was serious on the other side. “I should have been with a regular man who would respect my choices.”

He got frustrated that you brought up being with another man instead of him and remarked, “Watch your mouth,” as he let your t-shirt fall in a rough manner. “Respect the decisions you've made? A man is a pathetic and useless pussy who can't fix anything if he just lets go of everything when his woman experiences memory loss.”

“Or?” you said, trying to lighten the mood by lightly teasing him. While you were still on his lap talking to him about your future together, you realized it wouldn't be a good idea to argue with him. “And I'm not something to be fixed. You must know how thick your skull is.”

With a little smile, he studied your face and body till your cheeks reddened. You tried to get away from him slightly, but he held on closely. You stiffened up as his fingertips continued to linger on your skin and gently moved into your t-shirt. 

“What were you saying? Now, what happened? Do you need me to remind you of the other thick parts of my body that you found most pleasing?” Soldier Boy inquired, a sly smile playing on his lips. It was apparent that he was enjoying your response to him. You could feel the hardness of him beneath his suit as he rubbed your body against it. His mouth was so dirty that it made your cheeks flush crimson.

You whispered, “Don't change the subject,” without saying anything more. Your pussy had other plans, even though you tried not to stare at his massive member beneath you. “Will you allow me enough time? Four months seems like a reasonable amount of time.”

“No way.” He said it in a more controlled manner this time. You knew he was briefly looking at your body as his hands and fingers caressed your skin and held you tightly to his body. There was desire in his eyes; you could tell that.

Instead of disturbing you, though, it unexpectedly thrilled you. It seemed as though there was a magnetic pull between you or that your bodies were attempting to reunite in a more intimate manner. 

“That would be enough, and it benefits you the most,” you said. 

He arched an eyebrow at your refusal, chuckling. “In what ways will it benefit me?” Then Soldier Boy took a serious attitude, although it was clear that he was amused by your attempts. 

You stated, “If I don't love you back the way I had loved you in the past, you can tell my emotions were fake or something.” Even though you knew it was a cheap move, you still felt like you had to try it. 

The look on Soldier Boy's face shifted, as if he gave it some real thought. You might sense there was a brief moment of little lack of confidence if you didn't know how much he knew about himself. Nonetheless, he was undoubtedly the most attractive and powerful Super. 

“I know you love me already, and when you said you did, you said it sincerely.” There was no debate after his sharp remarks. “It doesn't matter if you remember or not.”

You dared to challenge him even though it wasn't a smart move. “How can you be so sure, and why so stubborn if it doesn't matter?”

“Because I can tell when you are lying. They are not the same thing,” he replied. 

With a cunning appearance on his lips, he watched you cautiously as your hands slid gently over his suit. You could have chuckled at how patient he was now, in spite of his intolerance only moments before, if you hadn't felt his hardness beneath you. 

You posed a lighthearted question, “Can I change your mind a bit?” You wanted him to be unconscious of how much this was fun for you, but you both were into playing a little. There was an overpowering need for discovering your balance with him. 

Your hands returned to his shoulders after carefully grazing each and every inch of his suit. As he stared at you and did nothing except hold you close, you felt a kind of joy emerge in your chest. Soldier Boy was the one who was closest to you and was willing to let you do everything you wanted to do him, even though you had known Butcher and the other guys for a very long time. You knew it was different with him.

“I'm not sure. You have to give it a try,” Soldier Boy grumbled, returning his hands to your hips. “You must know I'm not very easy to convince.”

“I see that,” you winked at him. At least you knew just how stubborn he was without needing your memories to return. However, you were equally determined about pursuing what you wanted. 

Soldier Boy couldn't resist chuckling when he saw how much you were already enjoying. For a little while, you felt as though you knew him as well as he knew you, and everything between you was normal. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “I want to bargain,” shifting slightly on him despite the fact that your cheeks were burning. If he acted more stubbornly and pushed you away, you would be quite embarrassed. 

To your astonishment, though, his hands kept stroking your hips—only more forcefully this time. Instead of harming you, he was once again showing his dominance to you. 

When you noticed he was considering it, you asked again, your cheeks heated, and you started to move on him a little. “Can we negotiate?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, seemingly disconnected from what you had to say, and instead he stared at your body. 

That's when Soldier Boy turned to look at you. His eyes were staring at you intensely. You trusted him when he said he missed you. You were there with him, comfortably seated on his lap. You weren't uncomfortable or anything even a day ago. It just felt right to be with him.

Soldier Boy smirked and gave you a quick ass squeeze. “Show me what you can do to convince me,” he urged. Although your eyes became wide, you were determined not to allow Cate to touch you and fuck your brain's balance. 

You weren't sure how far you would go without Temp-V at the time, and you didn't know how much he would go far. You had at first wanted to speak with Butcher. But there has to be a way to get him interested enough. 

You shifted slightly on his lap, one hand caressing his neck and hair, the other gently touching his huge bisceps. Your lips parted in surprise and desire as you felt his erection under you. Even though you had both stated that you were not interested in having sex before you remembered him, here you were, unable to get your hands off of one another as if you were meant to be together forever. 

You remained motionless, yet your lips were almost in contact. All you could do was stare into his eyes. He continued to hold you, the mock on his lips disappearing as his hold on your hips grew stronger and stronger. 

“How about...” you muttered. “Four months?” 

“Fuck no,” he responded, giving you a firm squeeze to move on him. 

To give you adequate space, Soldier Boy widened his legs a little. As you moved, you could feel his hands tightening around your thighs and his breathing becoming heavier. The strength difference between you made you a little uneasy, but you would have told him the moment his touch began to hurt. 

He suddenly said in a stern voice, “I should have fucked you on that table,” urging you to continue. Although there was quite a barrier between you and his pants, it didn't stop you from getting pleasure. 

Your body and cheeks became flushed from embarrassment, but you persisted and stated, “Give me four months.” 

You could never have agreed to let some other Supe get near you and screw your mind even more. 

You gasped in shock when Soldier Boy ignored what you had said and put a firm grasp on one of your tits through your t-shirt. He had hands all over the place. By the end, you weren't sure if you would be the one to get what you wanted. All of his focus was on his own needs.

“Feel how much you still make me hard, baby,” he muttered on your neck, pressing you on his stiff cock more thoroughly. “We haven't been this way in a very long time. I've so fucking missed watching you move on my cock.”

Longing was present in his final words, along with a lot of yearning. Though you tried to dismiss it and concentrate on the present, you couldn't help but feel a type of sadness tightening in your chest. Though you hoped you missed him just as much as he did, you showed no signs of this feeling. It seemed as though you had never separated. 

At that moment, you found yourself willing to play the game he needed.

In an attempt to give him what he truly desired from you, you hesitated before placing one of your hands on his and making him squeeze your ass firmly. 

“How much did you miss me?” you asked, meeting his gaze directly. Though your lips met his, it was not a kiss. His lips and touch were warm. 

It would be great if you knew his name, but though you tried so hard, you could not recall. You hoped that you had forgotten Butcher's instead.

Soldier Boy's lips began to lick your neck and throat. “So fucking much,” he moaned. It was evident from the way he moved underneath you that this was making him harder than before. 

Between gasps, you proceeded, encouraged by his reaction to your touch and words, “Will you give me four months?” His grip on your hips began to ache a little, but you bit your lip to keep the moment from being ruined until you had what you wanted.

He groaned, “Don't stop,” as soon as he noticed you were moving on him more slowly. His finger was lingering around your trousers and giving you little bruises. You tense up, thinking he's going to rip them off, so you tried to get the speed that Soldier Boy needed.

“You did give me a good hand job there, didn't you?” He let out a moan as you struggled to maintain the same pace. You made an effort to loosen his hold somewhat with your hand, but he didn't seem to be listening. 

“Given how long it's been, you would let me fuck you raw right now, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you allow me to fully fill your tight pussy and fuck you from behind till you can't move?” You eventually whimpered as Soldier Boy tightened his grasp on your hips and murmured into your ear. 

“Careful!” His hot kisses on your neck were so passionate and intimate that you felt yourself losing yourself in the moment with him as you moaned in pain and stroked his hands to calm him. 

He said, “I'm not even using force; relax,” as if he were at the end of his tolerance. It was impossible to determine if he was very aroused or enraged. Most likely, he had no idea how powerful he was. You came to the realization that using Temp-V was a wise decision. It was risky to be with a supe like him since you never knew if he was aware of what he was doing. 

His lips captured yours with desire, allowing you to slow down and ultimately release his hands from your hips without allowing you to say anything more. You felt a bit more at ease once he released your hips. 

You said, “We need to calm down,” in between kisses. You gave him softer, more tender kisses in return for his fierce, heated ones. It was absurd that you felt safe getting closer to a man you had only met the day before.

Soldier Boy was not your boyfriend; he was a stranger in fact. Someone you couldn't remember. But your heart knew the right path. 

He moaned, “Can't get my hands off of you,” kissing you this time with care and desire. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

“But I didn't take Temp-V,” you murmured hurriedly. It was difficult for you to make predictions as to how you did it because you couldn't recall your private moments with him.

“So?” Not sure what you were hinting at, Soldier Boy stated in a querying tone.

You muttered, “I don't know,” struggling to find the right words. “How.. we used to do it.”

“Do what?” he repeated, but this time he was smirking.

You stopped him and said, “Don't act like an asshole,” but his rough hands were already on your hips once more.

He kissed you hard and briefly in between talking about your attitude, saying, “The first thing you must remember is that'respect' for sure. And yes, we did it many times without Temp-V or anything else.”

You've been rubbing yourself against him and quietly panting. You just whispered, “Hmm.”

Once more, Soldier Boy gained complete control over your body and forced you to rub up against him while murmuring, “You wouldn't believe how many times I've fucked you without Temp-V.”

As gentle fingers ran through your hair, you muttered, “Was it good enough for you?”

“Perfect,” Soldier Boy responded with honesty.

“Protection?” you asked once again. It was difficult to comprehend what kind of power imbalance there might be between you and Soldier Boy during such times. He wasn't even aware how hard he grasped your hips until you warned him. 

“No,” to make it short, Soldier Boy's brought your body as close as his as he possibly could. You scowled as you saw his expression change. His voice had lost its tone of amusement and had become harsh. 

“Why?” 

“I'm a supe. There's no way I... could get you pregnant. Our DNA's are built differently.” Oh. 

Expressing verbally, a sort of rage entered Soldier Boy's heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had given an explanation for his inability to complete something. Even if he didn't intend to have children at that moment, it hurt his pride as a man to be unable to get you pregnant. He repeatedly filled you in a single day and continued to do so for months, but you were never able to conceive.

You said, “Okay,” in a whisper. Though he had made it plain, he did not explicitly state that the reason was that you were weaker than him. You were unable to overcome the anguish that was around your heart like a glass.

You couldn't stop thinking if the person you used to be had any plans to have a baby with him. You were startled that the thought didn't even slightly worry you as your mind raced with images of you, Soldier Boy, and a tiny baby. On the contrary, it kind of excited you. But it looks like the concept would remain a far-off fantasy that wouldn't ever come to pass. 

“So,” you began, hoping to get the conversation to go somewhere else. Your hands hesitantly touched his chest, then his iron belt, making contact with the star sign. “How about our negotiation?”

“Two months,” he said emphatically, as if nothing could make him reconsider at that very moment. 

If you weren't sitting on his lap while he stared at you longingly and with anticipation, you would have giggled at his inflexibility. You wanted to take some time and give it your all, even though you were aware of his earlier statements that he wouldn't love you in this way. 

You reached between his legs with your hands down. You could feel him tensing beneath you as your palms found his hardness through his jeans. He began to loosen his hold on your body when it became too tight since he clearly didn't want to harm you. 

“Two months is not enough,” you told him, lightly stroking his hardened cock with your palm against his trousers. 

With a swift moment, Soldier Boy shifted your positions and with an escaped gasp on your lips, you were under him, on the bed. He gently pushed your hair from your face and placed himself between your legs. Your eyes widened with surprise as he took your hand and put on his cock, making you to rub him through his pants.

Neglecting your words, Soldier Boy said, “Take it out.” He was already waiting for you to do something. “Now.”

Excitement flooded your body, so you followed his orders. After giving him a few more rubs to torment him, you unzipped his pants very slowly to get him more thrilled, though messing with a Supe wasn't a smart idea. 

“I thought you didn't want to touch me until I remembered everything,” you stated. “Why did you say it if you didn't mean it?”

“I decided to change my opinion, and why not? We used to bang five times in a row,” he snapped back. He truly never felt embarrassed over anything. Your body became hot when you attempted to figure out how you could take him so many times. 

You whispered, blushing at his bold remarks, “Don't you have a filter on your mouth?”

Soldier Boy said in your ear, “You should hear me when I'm inside you, swetheart,” as you finally succeeded in unipping his pants with trembling hands. You couldn't help but notice the longing on his face, his messy hair, and his hot breath. He was terribly good-looking and masculine. 

With a slight roughness in his voice, he thrust his hips toward your hand and seemed eager to continue. 

“Are you thinking about how much time you'll give me?” You inquired lightly, refusing to take him out of his suit no matter how many times he ordered you to continue. Soldier Boy shot you a cold stare right after. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” 

“Your little handiwork performance,” he stated with a brief smile that offered you his desire. 

With a hesitant smile back, your hands started to work on his pants to remove him. It was a play that you were both on. You two knew what was happening probably made you more thrilled than he was, and he would stop whenever you wanted him to, so it wasn't like he was pressuring you into doing anything you didn't want to. That was ingrained in your bones and feelings. 

You struggled to free him from his suit and were a little afraid of seeming foolish. Once some time had passed, you gave him a helpless glance. All Soldier Boy did was smirk mischievously over you. 

You said, “You could give a hand,” as your hands were a little aggressive on the material. 

“I thought that was what you're going to do.”

You surprised yourself by pulling his head to yourself and kissing him, refusing to let him torture you any longer. Thank goodness, Soldier Boy responded to your kisses instantly, and it didn't take long for his to take control and start making coarse noises within your mouth. 

You had no idea who was making louder noises or which of you was kissing each other harder. You were just aware that he was pressing you against the bed. He pulled back, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. During that moment, his lips remained on your neck, giving you a few gentle nibbles that left you whimpering.

You could feel the desire between your legs as Soldier Boy's hands frantically tugged at his clothes to get himself free. You were unsure if he would take you there.

Your phone rang in your pocket, and you realized that he was about to pull his cock out of his pants. As Soldier Boy was ready to pull down his pants, he grumbled in displeasure and halted, ignoring the phone ringing in your pocket. 

With a frantic “Oh, wait,” you attempted to shove his body away. 

Then Soldier Boy quickly took the phone from your pocket and glared at the screen with enraged eyes before letting you react. He stood up, leaving you on the bed by yourself, still gasping after the passionate interaction you had. You could tell who was calling by the way he looked across the room—it seemed like he was waiting for the right opportunity to enrage Soldier Boy even more. 

“You're a dead man,” muttered Soldier Boy as he held the phone up to his ear. “You and your worthless team.” Though it was barely audible, his voice was full of promise. 

Whispering, “Give it to me,” you hastily rose from the bed and attempted to take your phone from Soldier Boy's hands. 

It was obvious that Butcher was getting on Soldier Boy's nerves, even if you could only make out some of what he was saying. Butcher always had an ability of getting under people's skin. 

“How many lies you've told her, I don't know, but one thing is certain. You and your pitiful pets had best hide out in whatever shithole you are now in, because I'm going to kill you all.”

Soldier Boy eventually handed you the phone, ignoring everything Butcher was saying to him. As you waited for Butcher to speak, your pulse raced with thoughts and confusion, but you were at your breaking point. 

“I've called you a hundred times since yesterday,” you immediately complained. It was clear from your voice that you were disappointed. 

You paced the room, ignoring Soldier Boy as he observed you intently and zipped back his pants and straightened his suit. 

“We needed to exercise caution since he managed to catch you. Are you alright?” Butcher questioned it as if it were a common question. You were getting tired of his insensitive attitude already. 

You answered him harshly, “I need to talk to you in private,” ignoring his question.

“This is not the place for you to come. Sweetie, you'd put us all in danger.”

It was difficult to ignore the awful weight of rejection from someone who you still called friend and remembered with a heavy heart. You were aware that, for the most part, Soldier Boy was being truthful at that point. You were dumbstruck at how easily Butcher cast you aside while continuing to discuss safety.

“In somewhere else, of course,” you remarked coldly. “He will not follow me.”

You looked at Soldier Boy to see how he responded, but he was already seated and preoccupied with smoking weed aggressively across the room. Even though he occasionally sent you glares, you wanted to think he wouldn't break his promise to you. 

“Don't be so sure, honey,” Butcher sighed, unsure of how to handle the situation without putting the squad at risk by speaking with you. 

You said, emphasizing every syllable, “He's treating me good. We can meet in the house we all used to live in. I'll go there by myself. Alone.”

Butcher said, “Fine,” not wanting to talk about it any more. “Make sure you come here by yourself, baby,” he asked. Butcher owed you a conversation, even if he wasn't eager to meet you or risk running into Soldier Boy again when he really intended to kill him that much. Especially not after what he had done to both of you.

Of course, there were other topics to talk about.

Feeling relieved that he finally agreed, Butcher informed you when to meet and hang up without saying anything else. You were far too hurt to talk with him without coming out as fragile. After standing for a while staring at the screen of your phone and doing nothing, you turned to face Soldier Boy, who had already begun to drink. Then he looked at you. It was difficult to determine this time if his expression was one of hatred or rage. It was unclear if it was directed against Butcher, you, or both. 

You muttered, “I need to talk to him alone,” which gave you nothing to talk about. It was too much for you to handle.

You felt lost and alone once again.

Soldier Boy said, “Come here,” in a quiet voice. He sighed, seeing your mood drop and your smile fade. He detested seeing you so distressed and heartbroken. It would be simpler if you could just remember, but you were terrified. He couldn't figure out why.

Soldier Boy made you sit on his lap once again and gave you a tight embrace as if he could see what you were going through. Your head was on the cool material of his suit, where the eagle emblem was supposed to be. His warmth was relaxing and soothing.

You said, “He wants me to go to him alone,” hoping that he wouldn't provoke another argument once more.

Surprising you, he simply said, “Okay.”

“Just because I'm not going there with you for this time doesn't mean I won't murder him,” Soldier Boy firmly said, “He will pay for what he did to both of us. He and the others will die for that.”

You wanted nothing bad to happen to Butcher or the others, in spite of all that he had done to you. You knew you would never stay with Butcher again the moment he accepted the lies he'd told you. It did not, however, imply that you wanted his or the others' deaths. The only thing that would be lost would be trust, and that would be enough price.

You stated, “I don't want to talk about this right now,” implying that you didn't want to discuss Butcher or anybody else. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, so you decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell Soldier Boy that you didn't want Butcher to die. 

He kissed your hair, and you closed your eyes with relief. He murmured, “Fine,” with a soothing voice. His roughness didn't make his arms and kisses seem unsafe.

You said, “But I can't stay here too,” keeping in mind that you would have had to see the Seven, Homelander, and their heinous deeds every day. The idea itself was dreadful. “I don't want anything related to the Seven or Vought.”

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and remembered the last night you spent together, months ago, when everything was okay. At least your hatred for Vought and Homelander did not change. That was good enough. Although he too had no desire to interact with them, he was forced to do so due to the circumstances. For the time being. 

He continued, “We'll talk about such things later,” in a harsh voice, his hands lightly brushing your back as though he were trying to comfort you. 

“Where will I be staying?”

Soldier Boy scowled at your thoughts of living alone. “Obviously, not here.” As if he would let you go. 

With pride, he declared, “I own a place. We’ll stay there.” Though it didn't, it would have been preferable if things had gone as you two had hoped months ago. He wished he had purchased a house while you still remembered him. He would like to see your reaction.

You inhaled with gratitude upon learning that you would not be residing in Vought Tower. You could tolerate this as long as you didn't encounter Homelander and everyone. You were aware that Soldier Boy wouldn't allow you to go elsewhere, apart from him. Whatever had occurred or would happen, you had to confront it.

“Have you thought about the amount of time you'll give me?”

Soldier Boy took another look at the problem and groaned at your intransigent demeanor. He said, “Two and a half months,” playing with your hair and curling it with his fingers. “Not a single day more.”

“Make it three.”

“You are always greedy, aren't you?” He teased to lighten your mood. “Fuck it. Fine.”

“Will you tell me your name?” You asked in a low voice, realizing that you had never addressed him by name and recalling how disappointed he was when you couldn't recall it. You forced yourself to recall it till your brain hurt, but it was just impossible. You felt horrible about not being able to recall even one letter. 

You said, “Jack?” in an attempt to predict what he was going to say before he did. “Kevin? Eric?” 

“Fuck, quit saying other men names. Who the fuck are they?” He abruptly became irate and cut you off; jealousy was clearly taking over. 

“I don't know anyone with those names.” You said, playing with his possessive gaze as you raised your head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” 

“I am,” he declared firmly. The roughness in his tone made you giggle.

“You can forget everything—my face, my name, and even our memories—but you never forget that you are solely mine. You belong to me in your every version.”

Next Chapter

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[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED BY POLYGON MAGAZINE.

YOU'VE SPOKEN BEFORE ABOUT THE INFLUENCES YOU TOOK IN WHEN CRAFTING YOUR APPROACH TO AEMOND — YOU HAVE PROMETHEUS; YOU HAVE HEAT; HALLOWEEN; LAWRENCE OF ARABIA. I'M CURIOUS WHAT YOU WERE SEEKING AS YOU WERE RESEARCHING TO PLAY AEMOND IN SEASON 2.

"Characters who possess a tremendous amount of power, and see it as a means to do things no one else can do."

Similar with Lawrence of Arabia — something in Lawrence of Arabia that I like, he says 'The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.'

"You know, the idea that he kind of tempers himself — very similar to Aemond — to pain."

"He puts duty over love."

"And [similarly,] the idea that Aemond can be loved, but he also knows that he can achieve more if he’s willing to be feared, and do the necessary kind of evil."

"[I sought] characters who were kind of marginalized, and they maybe start off their story on their back foot, and over time become the hero of their story."

"There are setbacks, but they bounce back even stronger."

"Those kinds of characters."

DID YOU FEEL LIKE YOU WERE LIFTING THE ENERGY OF THESE PERFORMANCES, THE PHILOSOPHY, OR JUST THEIR PHYSICALITY?

"Anything — I mean, I try to watch a film a day."

"Although recently, with press, I’ve sometimes had to do two a day, because I miss a day."

"But anything, anything: Inspiration can come at any time."

"I’m always watching for it."

"I was watching Split the other day, M. Night Shyamalan’s Split, and it kind of raises the idea that the broken are the more evolved."

"And that’s certainly true with Aemond; from the moment he had his eye taken from him, he’s used it as motivation to develop himself and manufacture himself into this lethal weapon."

"I was speaking to a reporter earlier, and he had a Rutger Hauer T-shirt from Blade Runner."

"That’s also something that I might use as inspiration going into season 3."

"Just kind of leave my arms open, take anything."

DO YOU FIND YOU HAVE DIFFERENT INFLUENCES FOR DIFFERENT MOMENTS IN AEMOND'S LIFE, OR EVEN JUST DIFFERENT RELATIONSHIPS, LIKE ALICENT VERSUS HELAENA?

"Yeah, ultimately, after the raising of the dragonseeds in 'The Red Sowing,' it’s definitely made Aemond a lot more desperate going into episode 8, and he’s losing that composure that he’s known for [in] the previous episodes."

"And so there was always something really fascinating in exploring that kind of fractured Aemond, seeing that scared boy rise to the surface again, that he’s tried to keep a lid on for so many years."

"It’s the sort of relationship that makes total sense even when you don’t see them together."

"Of course she’s the person who sees him and puts him in his place."

"And he just has nothing to say to that."

"Her words just cut him in half."

"He always has this idea of where and how things will pan out."

"She just challenges that, and it breaks him a little bit."

IN A SHOW THAT'S SO MUCH ABOUT INTERROGATING PEOPLE'S QUEST FOR A POWER, THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO IT, AND HOW IT CAN BE BOTH WIELDED AND CORRUPTING AS A FORCE, HOW DO YOU SEE AEMOND FITTING INTO THAT? WHAT'S HIS MINDSET?

"I think he raises that question of whether Aemond is inherently evil, or whether power does corrupt, whether it was nurture versus nature."

"Was it the upbringing that [he] received from Otto Hightower and his mother, or was it just being in the Red Keep and being a product of his environment there?"

"I think Aemond — he’s always had that quest for power."

"He’s always wanted to be known as that war hero."

"And here at the council table, for the first half of the series, he’s very much serving in the war from one end."

"And then when he gets into power and becomes prince regent, he goes to the other end."

All of these people, he now has a completely new perspective on, and it’s like, 'OK, so how can each of you serve me? And if you can’t serve me, you’re gone.'

"It’s that kind of very black-and-white pursuit that Aemond has in his quest for power, which I think is quite scary."

"It’s formidable."

It doesn’t really take anybody else’s perspective into account. 'It’s what I want.'

"So what’s his relationship with power? It’s not a pretty one."

DO YOU SEE HIS QUEST FOR POWER AS COMING FROM THAT SCARED LITTLE BOY WHO JUST WANTS SOME PROTECTION AND INSULATION, AND TO BE ABOVE REPROACH? OR DO YOU SEE IT AS HIM THINKING I HONESTLY BELIEVE I CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE HERE?

"I mean around the council table, all these other characters, they’re losing their composure, they’re raising their voices, they’re arguing."

"Aemond’s just sitting back."

"He’s calculated, he’s cool."

"He strikes when the moment arises."

"He needs to be seen as someone who can wield that power effectively."

"He needs to be seen as someone who can lead."

"He can become that war hero."

"Whether or not he wants to sit the Iron Throne — I don’t know; I don’t want to answer that! But he definitely wants a similar kind of reputation as Daemon Targaryen."

"He wants to be like Daemon Targaryen, but he also wants to better him."

"He wants to be known as that rogue prince, who you know all of the realm respects."

"Or maybe he doesn’t really care what anyone thinks — that’s kind of what I love about the character."

"He could be many things."

TELL ME ABOUT HOW YOU APPROACHED THE ARC FOR HIM OVER THE SEASON — TO RETURN TO INFLUENCES FOR A SEC, I WAS THINKING A LOT ABOUT STREETCAR NAMED DESIRED, AND HAVING A CHARACTER WHO DOESN'T KNOW THEY'RE THAT CLOSE TO A BREAKDOWN, BASICALLY, AND DOESN'T KNOW THEY'RE ONE BAD DAY AWAY FROM THAT. THEY'RE JUST HOLDING THEMSELVES TOGETHER EVEN WHEN PEOPLE AROUNG YOU CAN SEE THIS IS BAD NEWS.

"Aemond… if he has a breaking point, I don’t think he’s found it yet."

"It’s interesting."

"Maybe he found it there, when Helaena challenged everything he thought his life would amount to, and how things would pan out."

"I think Aemond always thought of himself as the captain of his own fate and his own destiny."

"And so when Helaena shares that knowledge — on one hand, it could make an enemy out of him."

"But on the other hand, it could also make Helaena a tremendously valuable ally."

"If you’re able to harness that kind of foresight and that power that Helaena possesses, you could see a blow coming before it lands."

I think that would certainly be something interesting to explore: 'Where is Aemond’s breaking point?'

"I mean we’ve seen everything he’s done so far."

"He kind of had to abandon humanity in season 2, with what he did to his brother."

Helaena raises that: 'Was it worth the price, and what did he lose in that moment?'

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT WHERE HE ENDS UP THIS SEASON? IN MANY WAYS, IT FEELS LIKE AND OTHERWISE TRIUMPHANT SEASON PUTS HIM IN EXACTLY THE RIGHT PLACE TO HAVE HER POP THAT BALLON FOR HIM.

"Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it."

"I think he’s got to sit with that information now, and sit with that realization."

"But as we know for Aemond, he can’t sit still for long."

"He’s going to be on the back of that dragon."

"Up to no good, you know."

"And yeah, I can’t wait to see where it goes in season 3."

"I think he’s got to change again."

"I think similar to when he had his eye taken out as a kid, it served as this motivation to become something else entirely."

"And then with this new realization at the end of season 2, he’s gonna have to evolve again, or otherwise risk being broken again."

[unluckiestmember]

yk now im curious on what would happen if Miguel saw his “daughter” in [Name]. Like she would just pop in with miles ( they’ve been friends since the first movie basically) and she is like a carbon copy of the daughter from the world he was like im when taking the place of himself. I would personally see it as a head cannon type of thing but ur choice! (bonus if platonic yandere) and if u do write this tysm for taking time out of ur day to do so❤️❤️

Coming right up!

Miguel O'Hara X "Daughter"! Reader

Characters: Miguel O'Hara, Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhaker, Gwen Stacy, Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew

Tags: Found family trope?, yandere!Miguel, Miguel being Miguel, overprotective father figure, problematic friend group, intervention, fluff and hurt/comfort.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: Sorry this is not my best, you got me working on four hours of sleep and immediately after an eight hour shift. But I still hope you enjoy this! XD

Let’s get one thing straight; Whether he admits it or not, Miguel loved you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

You reminded him so much of Gabriella in the way you looked, the way you acted, etc.

Literally had to do a double take a few times before he realized you weren’t her.

But even then, that didn’t make him hate you.

Actually, it fueled him to get closer to you and create a bond with you.

Call it the father in him if you must.

He indulges in familial activities like sight seeing and even eating some sweet treats with you.

Spider-Society swears you are the only person to make this big guy crack a smile.

And for that, you are considered a wizard.

Jokes aside, Miguel cared about you so much as if you were his own daughter.

But maybe he cared about you too much?

When you arrived with Miles and he chose to challenge his canon event, Miguel wasted no time giving him a hard time.

Especially knowing that you two were thick as thieves.

If he was sprouting things on you about changing canon and destroying the multiverse, what else could he be putting in your head?

And don’t even get him started on the fact that the multiverse would be destroyed because of him.

You would be taken from him Everything would be taken from everyone.

Even if you have friends like Miles, Hobie, Pavitr and Gwen, don’t expect your father figure to let them in with open arms.

He becomes a literal cat hissing at your inner circle because they’re “bad influences”.

It gets to the point where Jessica, Peter B and even yourself have to remind him you are your own person.

That you are not Gabriella.

And that hurts him because he knows. But that won’t change that you’re his kid.

Just because you didn’t carry the same flesh and blood didn’t mean you meant the world to him.

Was he extreme? Yes.

Was he kind of idiotic? Absolutely.

But he would do anything for you.

He lost one daughter. He’s not going to lose another.

And if he needs to put his foot down a bit, so be it.

Spider-Verse Requests are open!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[saintsenara]

okay, I'm super curious about your thoughts on when and how snape becomes a potions master. some people say he was still working on his mastery when he became a professor but i like to think he got it in early 1980 and he apprenticed with a potions master he was recommended to through his ~connections~ (cough malfoy cough).

although the idea of him teaching and grieving and also attempting to not fail at the one thing he knows he's good at does have its own angsty appeal

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

although i regret to say that i'm going to start the answer to it by being very pedantic...

the idea that masteries are something which exist in the wizarding world is complete fanon.

they have emerged as a trope due to a reading of the phrase "potions master" which does make perfect sense outside of the cultural context in which the books were written - by which i mean that it makes readers unfamiliar with the culturally-specific meaning of this bit of language think of masters degrees or other high-level qualifications - but which is nonetheless incorrect within context.

"master" [and the feminine equivalent, "mistress"] is just an alternative term in british english for "teacher". it doesn't imply anything about a level of qualification. "potions master" and "potions teacher" are synonyms.

the term is archaic - british people nowadays would exclusively say "teacher" - and it's very class-specific, in that it would have particularly been used to describe teachers in elite schools, whether fee-paying private schools or grammar schools [state schools which are academically selective].

as a result, it turns up in lots of the children's literature written before c.1980 - especially in boarding-school stories like malory towers and the worst witch which are explicit influences on the harry potter series. it's used in the text - especially in the earlier books - as part of worldbuilding which generally seeks to make the wizarding world feel whimsical by virtue of being very old-fashioned, which things like the fact that the most advanced technology wizards use is the radio and the steam train also hammer home.

that snape is the only teacher referred to as a master is connected to these genre conventions. because snape is so important to the full arc of the story, he's the teacher we spend the most time in the classroom with throughout the six books in which harry's at school. and he's therefore the teacher who - in the first few books - best fits a children's literature archetype which we would expect to find in any twentieth-century school story [with a magical setting or not] - the hated schoolmaster who is horrible to the child-protagonist and who every child reading can't wait to see get their comeuppance.

so snape is a potions master because he teaches potions. nothing more than that.

but that doesn't mean that it's not worth thinking about his training...

clearly, higher education of the type most of us are familiar with doesn't exist in wizarding britain - nor, i suspect, in wizarding europe more broadly.

and this makes perfect sense - not only because the magical population is so small but because the divergence of the magical and muggle worlds in 1689 takes place well before universities and university-level education look like anything a modern student might recognise. a seventeenth-century university education was still broadly generalist and aimed at trainee clergy, and careers which we would nowadays expect to require a degree - such as law, finance, medicine, science, and engineering - were generally taught by apprenticeship.

this is clearly how things continue to function in the wizarding world of the 1990s, since we know from order of the phoenix that healers are taught by apprenticeship [and, indeed, that hogwarts graduates all go straight into the workforce after they leave school].

potions - since it's analogous to chemistry - is nonetheless understood in-world as an academic discipline. but this doesn't mean - within the post-school educational structures we can suppose the wizarding world has - that it's a discipline in which one needs specific formal training in order to acquire a right to teach or publish about it.

the seventeenth century was a period - especially in britain - marked by a great expansion of scientific inquiry. this was - by our contemporary understanding of academic science - amateur. scientists wouldn't have been expected to have doctorates, to work at universities, or even to have attended them, and their experiments were often self-funded by personal wealth or dependent on a patron. the circles [often international] in which they debated, demonstrated, and reviewed theories and inventions were social ones - the gatekeeping line was class [with the level of education - and, primarily, of literacy - that this implied], rather than level of education itself.

these social circles often had a certain level of official standing - by which i mean they became, during the period, the learned societies, the most famous of which is probably the royal society. membership [or fellowship] of the learned societies requires a demonstration of some sort of contribution to the discipline they relate to - which means that the vast majority of contemporary fellows of such societies are university-based academics. but this wouldn't have been the case in 1689.

and we know that the wizarding world has its own equivalent of learned societies, because slughorn mentions one in half-blood prince - the most extraordinary society of potioneers.

which is to say, snape is probably a member of this society. he may very well publish papers in academic journals connected to the subject [as dumbledore does in transfiguration today], and he undoubtedly has a reputation among the wizarding world's men- and women-of-letters. but he doesn't need to have any formal post-hogwarts qualification in order for him to have acquired this reputation.

so what do i think he's doing between 1978 and 1981?

well... he's a death eater.

my theory has always been that snape comes to voldemort's attention - via lucius malfoy - because of his potions skills. the dark lord's operation would have needed potions - poisons to bump off enemies, healing potions because wanted criminals can't just turn up at st mungo's, potions to trade on the black market [as aberforth dumbledore tells us the death eaters do during deathly hallows], and so on - and voldemort would want to keep the production of these potions in-house, rather than risk hiring a private brewer [even a shady one] who might change their mind and go to the aurors.

[this is also presumably what voldemort - undoubtedly at snape's request - tries to recruit lily to do.]

i have never believed that snape was taken on as a death eater in the expectation that he'd perform a combat role - there is a clear implication throughout the series that the only person he ever directly kills is dumbledore, and that he gets along badly with death eaters [such as bellatrix] who did take more violent roles in voldemort's terrorism.

so i presume that, when he leaves school, he ends up working as a personal brewer for voldemort - on a stipend presumably paid, at the dark lord's request, by either lucius or abraxas malfoy. i also presume that, outside of work voldemort specifically requests, he's given free rein to brew for other clients, study, experiment, and publish as he wishes.

and i further presume that if he trains with anyone, then that person is voldemort himself.

voldemort claims, in goblet of fire, to be interested in experimenting with potions. he appears to invent the potion made from nagini's venom which sustains his half-body prior to his resurrection - and i think the implication of the text is that he also invents the potion guarding the locket-horcrux. voldemort also evidently encourages snape's interest in the dark arts, and he also appears to have some influence over snape's comportment - the teen snape we see in order of the phoenix is extremely rough around the edges, in a way the adult snape, who both speaks and moves in canon very similarly to the adult voldemort, isn't.

voldemort taking such an interest in snape would - obviously - largely be a grooming tactic. snape clearly becomes a death eater because the organisation offers him a chance to belong and succeed which his class-background would ordinarily make impossible for him within wizarding society, and voldemort must therefore massively indulge his belief that he's never given the respect he deserves for his intellect. voldemort's obvious contempt for slughorn - who matters so little to him that he doesn't even bother to kill him - would, i imagine, also win snape round.

and by training snape in an academic rather than a combat sense, voldemort gains a valuable tool - someone he can place at hogwarts as a teacher to spy on dumbledore.

we can assume that voldemort was having dumbledore tailed throughout the first war - and, indeed, that this is what snape is doing when he overhears the prophecy - but that he couldn't watch him at all times because he didn't have a spy among the hogwarts faculty.

it is clearly voldemort who tells snape to apply for a teaching job in early 1980. he must also tell him to apply for the defence against the dark arts post [which we know snape canonically applied for first] - which means he must expect to be imminently victorious in the first war, since snape would only be able to stay in the position for a year...

the prophecy, which snape hears c. january 1980, obviously derails this belief slightly... and snape famously does not get the defence against the dark arts job for the 1980-1981 academic year.

how do we know this? because he tells us in order of the phoenix that he's been teaching at hogwarts for fourteen years. he says this right at the beginning of the autumn term in 1995 - so he clearly means that he's been teaching for fourteen previous academic years and the 1995-1996 year is his fifteenth. so... he started teaching at hogwarts in the 1981-1982 academic year.

voldemort settles on harry as the child the prophecy refers to after harry is born [so, after 31st july 1980]. we don't know how quickly he does this and we don't know exactly when snape defects to the order.

but, clearly, at some point during the 1980-1981 academic year, dumbledore hires snape to begin teaching from september 1981 onwards. he presumably tells snape to tell voldemort that his change of heart was because he didn't think snape was qualified to teach defence against the dark arts but that he does think he's qualified to teach potions [pointing, perhaps, to publications snape got out under voldemort's tutelage], and that slughorn's announcement that he intends to retire means that there's a position available. he then undoubtedly also tells snape to convince voldemort of the same pretence they'll use throughout the second war - that he's a loyal death eater passing information on dumbledore's movements to his master.

which is to say... when lily dies, snape has been in his job for at most nine weeks.

just imagine how miserable that must have been!

[themeraldee]

For the awkward sex fic how about him busting way too early like with Madelyn? Reader hasn't even really started but she just says the right thing and he makes a mess👀

love that I'm becoming the awkward sex go to (absolutely keep em coming!) 😂 If you haven't read it yet, the incredibly talented @blindmagdalena wrote exactly that here !

I shall put this on my to-write list as well because over-eager Homelander who cannot hold it in is my favourite.

I'm forever transfixed by how he apologized so earnestly in that moment. Sorry but a man of his strength apologizing to you because he blew his load too early has me 🥴🥴

Like bby don't apologize, I wanna see more of that!

I could see once the reader finds out this about his praise kink they weaponize the ever loving shit out of it. Anytime they need something from him. If he can weaponize his influence over you, why couldn't you😉

"Be a good boy today and behave for me please?" You say to him just before his next public appearance. And as much as he's fed up and loathes keeping to the corporate script he listens because he wants to be good for you, he wants you to reward him, to sing his praises as soon as he comes off the stage after a job well done.

Vought is happy that they have someone keeping him in line even though originally they were not accepting of your relationship after you pretty much stole the marketing opportunity of getting him into a public relationship with another supe.

I see this later translating into the bedroom, where the reader is verrry curious just how easy he is to get off. In a crack fic scenario they make it a game where the reader has a stopwatch just keeping track of how long it takes him to finish when they keep praising him. Whether that's during a blowjob, handjob or sex.

"Look at that! 15 seconds today, that's definitely a record."

(If I'm taking the time in the show at face value, it took him 30 seconds with Madelyn)

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexTav Enemies to Lovers Part 30

Summary: A little bit of dialogue to get us back in the swing of things, maybe Gale's opportunity to set things right. We're back, baby. I will likely skip over big action scenes and such since many people have likely played the game. I may include some if it feels relevant to the story. TBD. My goal is to follow these two until the end.

Part 29 | Big List of Fics | A03

Gale’s mouth was drier than the Sands of Itzcala and his palms were coated in a slick sheen of sweat. They were approaching a burly looking creature as Karlach and Wyll had caught up to them, the strange noises that echoed through the tower unsettling. 

“You alright?” Karlach frowned, hitting Gale lightly on his shoulder. He nodded although it was far from the truth, offering a fake grimace of pain. She rolled her eyes. “Come off it, I barely touched you.” 

Moments earlier when they ascended to speak with Disciple Z’rell, Tav distracted her mental prodding with lustful images of Gale. She filled her mind with scenes of their bodies entangled, echoed sinful gasps for air within the corners of her imagination as she envisioned their indulgence of one another. Gale’s face was hot, and sweat pooled at the back of his neck. The bulge within his robes had not quite deflated. His ears were hot and he ignored the murmurs of Shadowheart and Astarion and their pointed looks. It felt like he was underwater. 

He wondered whether or not the images highlighted her true desires or if they were merely a strategic move to detract from their (in Gale’s opinion) obvious infiltration. She could have thought of anything, though, and her immediate reaction was to think of him. Z’rell’s distaste for Tav’s choice in sexual partners barely registered for him to be offended. 

“Gale, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Astarion cooed, nudging him in the side. “It almost makes me want to take a bite out of you myself.” He bared his fangs slightly and licked his lips and Gale rolled his eyes, stepping away. 

“You wish - I’ll have you know, my blood tastes awful.” Gale’s lips twitched in a smirk.  

The downside to the tadpoles influence included thought-sharing so both were privy to Tav’s unholy thoughts - it wasn’t often they encroached on one another’s private musings, however in the seat of the absolute with Z’rell’s modeling it was if their thoughts were one. Once dismissed, their minds grew quiet once more. Tav stalked ahead of them and Gale was too nervous to utter a sound. 

“So,” Shadowheart said cooly, inspired by Astarion’s bravery, “You and Tav must know each other more… intimately than I thought.” 

Heat flicked up his neck. “Gods, no,” Gale said, dropping his head and ignored her eyes widening. If only. 

“Oh. Her imagination could have fooled me. A shame, I was hopeful that your tongue was really that practiced..” Shadowheart tapped her fingers against his shoulder, grinning. 

Gale rose a brow skeptically and cocked his head. “Are you flirting with me?” 

Shadowheart’s cheeks flushed and she shrugged, “Merely curious about your portfolio of talents.” 

“Hm, aren’t you just,” Astarion said, running his fingers up Shaodwheart’s back. “I admit, I am too.” 

Karlach snorted and shook her head, “Easy. Let Gale dig himself out of the ditch with Tav before either of you try a thing. Don’t put my hard work to waste.”  

Gale turned to her, his eyes narrowing. “What work?” 

But before Karlach could answer, the bugbear they were approaching spoke. “Well. Flo didn’t tell a lie. She said you’d find me, and here you are. Karlach, isn’t it?” 

Karlach bristled and Tav turned to them, watching as the four approached. Her eyes darted back and forth between Gale and Karlach, each time she caught his gaze she’d look away abruptly. Gale knew that look, he had seen her throw it his way thousands of times. But, he knew better than to hope. 

“Now there’s a name I’d hoped never to hear again.” Karlach said, sighing and straightening her shoulders. “What was Flo doing here?” 

“Didn’t think to quiz her about her business.” The bugbear said, shrugging. He snorted and pulled out a handful of Soul Coins. “Told me to hold onto these in case I ran into you,” he jostled them in his hand. 

“Hm,” Karlach mused, “I should have known better. What does she want, then?” 

“Nothing, just told me if you wanted them you’d have to hear the stories of each one.” 

“Classic,” Karlach shook her head, and looked to Tav. “Well?” 

“Do we need them?” Tav asked skeptically, but the look on Karlach’s face edged her forward. “Alright, let’s have the coins.” 

Gale hissed through his teeth, “Karlach, we haven’t needed them yet -“ the icy stare she shot back at him was foreign so his lips sealed instantly. 

When the merchant was done with each sordid tale, he handed Karlach the coins and they turned away, lingering in the grand hall. 

“Who’s Flo?” Tav asked. 

“Florenta the Garrotter. A cambion I knew back in Avernus. The closest I had to a friend,” the weariness in her tone was unmistakable and Gale laid a hand on her shoulder. “That said, she would’ve choked the life out of me if I ever turned my back on her. The fact she knows where I am or might be going doesn’t delight me.” 

“Do we need to worry about her?” Tav said, folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re safe with us,” Gale said reassuringly, ignoring Tav’s question. Though he had never gone toe to toe with a campion before, surely it couldn’t be more difficult than what they’d faced thus far. 

“I doubt she’ll come looking, her precious feet are too delicate for the material plane.” She snorted and leaned into Gale’s touch. “Thank you, though.” She put her hand over Gale’s for a moment before moving it from her shoulder. “I’m grateful to have friends, real friends now who care whether or not I burn alive.” 

Wyll came up behind them, shaking his head woefully. “In my years as the Blade, I’ve witness countless cruelties, faced unimaginable evil…. Thorm is made of pure hate - the coast will rejoice when the bastard’s fallen. I know my father is somewhere in this tower and I won’t leave him in Thorm’s hands. I’ve scouted the premises, there’s a dock at the back - my guess is that it leads to the prisons, we may find both the Tiefling hostages and my father in one fell swoop. And, whether or not you care to help her, Minthara was likely dragged there as well.”

Tav dusted off her hands and took a sip from her canteen. A drop of water lingered on the edge of her lip. Gale’s fingers twitched, as if they had a mind of their own to brush it away. He clenched a fist and she rubbed her thumb against the corner of her mouth, clearing the water. “Seems like we have our work cut out for us.” 

They stood in a tight circle, Tav’s robes brushing against Gale. He felt the electricity move between them, the buzzing of their cells eager to know one another. He shook his head. Focus. 

Gale felt the knot in his stomach tighten - if they were truly at the heart of the absolute, it was only a matter of time until he would need to use the orb. He could see no other way. Defying his already miffed Goddess did not seem like a viable choice - the notion of being trapped until the end of time in a wall of faceless, being crushed and assaulted at the forefronts of the blood war… no. Gale couldn’t bear it. 

Astarion pursed his lips. “If we’re going to talk, shouldn’t we do it less conspicuously? I love a little drama - but I would like to walk out of here alive. Talking about our plans at the heart of the source we are trying to usurp is foolish, don’t you agree?” 

Shadowheart nodded curtly, “Astarion’s right. Last Light is less than a quarter days walk - we should head there, make camp.” 

“Tease out a plan,” Wyll offered, his excitement for justice palpable. 

Gale interrupted, rubbing his chin “While we’re here, shouldn’t we at the very least inspect Balthzar’s chamber? We may find something of use.” 

“We should,” Tav said, nodding once. “Alright - Gale, you and I can explore the chamber, Karlach and Wyll can you both chat with the folks lingering around? They may know something. See if there’s anything worth battering around here. Astarion, Shadowheart - why don’t you start headed back to last light, gather whatever supplies we need? It may be the last time we set up camp there for the foreseeable future.” 

Astarion gave a mocking salute, “Yes, captain.” 

Gale’s throat constricted. His eyes flicked to Karlach who seemed to try to communicate this was his chance to set things right. He felt his heart thrumming against his chest and waited a moment before turning his gaze to hers. “Gale,” Tav looked up, her eyes locking with his. “Shall we?” 

[hyperblue]

Everyday I scroll through your blog just to remember what happiness is.

Also, I did have an actual question or request(?) I suppose, I want, NEED more details about your specific AU with Wendy and Jackie, what fo they enjoy? How often do they fight with their fathers? What do they grow up to be??? You've said before that Jack is scared of his powers, so does this result in him going out and having a 'normal' life? How would that affect his relationships with his family?

Of course you don't have to answer but I am very curious!

hello there!! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my blog, thank you for your kind words 💙

and yes i will gladly answer your questions! this will probably get a bit long, i hope that's okay with you

au's mainly focused on twins when they are around 17-18 (kind of symbolic to tim's age when he cloned them because I'm prosy like that)

one of the main reasons why I've decided to go for twins in this au (aside from being indecisive about whether it should be a boy or a girl) is because it gives me a chance to demonstrate how two people can have same upbringing/surrounding and be influenced by the very same group of people AND still form entirely different perspectives and opinions on certain things. i'm going to use both kids' relationships with kon as one of the clearest examples:

wendy appreciates kon dearly, she thinks very high of him and constantly seeks for his company and attention. on the other hand, as she gets older, it becomes really awkward for her to be around him because she's old enough now to actually understand and pear wiggle the whole "my dad cloned me out of this dead dude's dna without his consent" thing in her head, until she has to stop for a moment and go: "wow. that was So Not Okay of my dad." on top of that she's facing a major identity crisis because you know, teens, and starts to question her own existence and even tim's love for her, because she can't be sure now if he actually loves her or if she's just a good enough replacement of what her dad could have loved, but never got an actual chance. which eventually leads to her bottling up lots of anger towards tim, because obviously it's his fault that she can't look kon in the eyes anymore, and none of this would've happened if he just had his shit together and didn't try to clone kon all those years ago (and she's not even entirely wrong)

what she CAN'T fathom just yet is the fact that she loves kon so much partly because she got to see him through tim's eyes; part of her affection for kon is deeply rooted in a way tim spoke about him when she was a kid, always loving, always in awe — essentially, tim was the first person who taught wendy the concept and the feeling of love. and even her awkwardness and guilt that she's experiencing around kon are inherited from tim; she's just mirroring her dad's own feelings about himself without even realizing it

jackie, on the other hand... it would be easy to say that he's just not as close with kon as his sister, but when you start to look at the reasons, well, it gets a little bit messy. you see, jackie was always a "daddy's boy"; he and tim were inseparable when jackie was a kid, they still are, actually, it's just that tim only now starts to realize negative side effects of their closeness but that's for another post. not only that, he's also much more... observant than wendy in a lot of ways, so while wendy was soaking in tim's affection for kon as a sponge to eventually make it her own, jackie couldn't help but notice how hard it was for his dad to have kon in his life only as a co-parent and nothing more (they've bended their friendship as years went by, but it was never easy for both of them); not to mention that tim, to this day, experiences a very severe depressive episodes, to the point of not being able to get out of bed — jackie was very affected by it too growing up. so to him, as of now, it doesn't make sense for kon to stick around and be his usual "weekend dad" if he's not willing to stay forever, and he's kind of resentful towards kon, because he always felt sorry for tim in this situation. not that he doesn't understand why exactly it's the way that it is, it's just that his philosophy on that matter is: if you can't stay forever, do not bother visiting us at all, and stop giving dad any hope for more. jackie's anxiety regarding his kryptonian powers also does not help at all, more on that later

(got carried away with this, sorry, i just had to take this opportunity to explain why there are twins in my timkon clone baby au)

so about the kids, wendy is a rebellious soul and free spirit, and her interests really show that about her — she's been horse riding since she was five, tim was a bit hesitant about it at first, but with damian's help they managed to convince him that everything is going to be okay; damian has also bought wendy her own horse, the one she's connected with in her equestrian club (damian is her favorite uncle ever since; she did not let him call her horse a "Bathourse", tho). aside from that she plays guitar just a little, tim's also tried to teach her piano but ended up failing miserably; he also wasn't able to pass on to her his music taste, wendy is almost strictly a pop girl. she's not really good at photography from professional point of view, but she almost always has her little digital camera with her to take snapshots of memories

(she's also really into true crime videos/podcasts, it's one of the activities that she likes to share with her dad; most times after a fight with tim, if she wants to make up or apologize, she just sneaks into his office and starts playing random true crime youtube video at full volume)

jackie doesn't really have a "main" interest or hobby, even though he's passionate about a lot of things, some of them include: art (because damian), sports (although he's not playing himself), cars (because tim), photography (once again, tim), also I'm pretty sure he's good at math — a little bit of this, a little bit of that, as he himself would say. it could create a major problem for him to choose between college programs if he hadn't already decided that he is going to inherit drake industries, so business it is. tim actually had a whole conversation with him, like, "are you SURE that's what you want," resulting in jackie just. shrugging his shoulders, because it's just about as good as any other choice; not that he has some big, special dream anyway. also i think that he probably skipped a class (wendy did not; she's not too excited about going to college)

speaking about jackie being scared of his powers, it's most likely the result of an accident/series of accidents from his childhood when he unwillingly hurt tim or demolished something during tantrums (he used to throw them a lot when he was younger); kon has offered his help at figuring out how to control it, of course, but if for wendy it was existing and she wanted to get even stronger and make more progress, for jackie it was always about keeping it at bay so to not hurt anyone else. he never really wanted to become a vigilante either, which is good enough for tim because he's worried enough about wendy rushing to the field; he's as close at being a civilian as you can possibly get while growing up with bats and having a kryptonian dad. mostly it's a relief for his family ("at least one of us is going to graduate college"), although wendy can't stop bugging him about joining in and being the coolest vigilante twins gotham has ever seen. it's a bit isolating for him, sure, considering that everyone in his family is a superhero of some sort, but with tim mostly being a stay at home dad and only managing comms every once in a while it turned out better than it could

it DID get long, and i start to lose the train of thoughts; nevertheless, i hope you'll enjoy this answer 💙 feel free to ask more about them, I'm always up to chatting about my babies

[alice-blogs-things]

It took me a while, but I think I'm finally getting on board with the "they're in a TV show" theory for s14. I think it took the latest preview from Rogue to finally get it, honestly. Because I'd gathered that the other episodes were drawing inspiration from other shows, but I wasn’t as familiar with the ones being referenced, so I couldn't really see how far those influences went.

Dot and Bubble was when I started to get it, cause I've watched enough Black Mirror to see the influences all over the episode. Not just in the pastel toxic positivity vibes reminiscent of Nosedive, or even in the "What if your tech turned against you" element that's in a lot of episodes. But the "twist" of Lindy being a genuinely horrible person, not just a spoilt, immature brat, is also a twist Black Mirror have done in the past. The reveal that makes us question whether this person we'd been following along with deserved our sympathy in the first place features in a few episodes- Shut Up And Dance was one that came to mind especially.

But until I saw that Rogue sneak peek, I had thought it was just a coincidence. I'd thought the reference to Bridgerton in the trailer was just because they were in Regency high society and that was Ruby’s main point of reference for that. But the costumes we've seen so far, the dialogue, and of course, the orchestra playing Bad Guy in the background, there's no way this influence is coincidental. It has to be on purpose.

Which then begs the question- what, ultimately, does it all mean? Where is it all leading? The TV show theory is holding more and more water for me with each passing week, but I would be curious if they go there, or if it's something else entirely.