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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 months ago

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being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

#[sitting waiting right here] for billions to have its vulnerable weird scapegoated misfit outcasts actually band together lmao....#like Sure Doesn't b/c billions is like we all hate weirdos & we all love telling them to shut tf up & go away to die or w/e. correctly #can't believe ultimately the Different fund disappears w/o its scapegoat & the Correct ''weird'' char is full axe cap mode finally #& it's sure not a Comment when billions affectionately gives them their free heavenly reward & Ensure zero scapegoating consequences #the [imagine if something about something was about something] approach to Banished Relatives being thoughtful & loving like #& here you see how even As they're banished everything isn't Really fixed for it incl. that people aren't Really just happy he's gone #billions is like no we killed him And everyone has gladly & legitimately forgotten he exists (save the instant it's time to use him)#the hilarious(tm) tragedies surrounding rian like billions' can't make her ''care'' abt winston be anything save more violence #can't pretend rian was anything more than [again we all Know your nads like w/taylor like w/winston] bagina + dialogue source combo in s6 #when it's still dimly relevant for prince in s7 but you miss Nothing re: rian if you have no idea that plotline exists #& speaking of actual ''weirdness'' rian was never allowed to have: the tragedy of the tension of Closeted Transness present on screen fr #just as billions has no idea / further willingness to let rian be so ''weird'' as to actually care abt winston or abt not being a bully Lol #meanwhile i figured like oh i'll like a scapegoat. did know ahead of time like bruno's just some guy; not even ''redeemable'' antagonist #but In Practice & w/all that beloved Disabledness & crucial appreciation like you Need this guy; the understanding is Key #like well ofc i would kill for him. ofc just constant like mhm go off king slay fire etc. god tier character cherished forever thanks #but then also like im sure a zillion [intention; inspiration; thoughts] going into Tfw Family Things characters; a zillion interpretions &#thoughts to follow like it truly is Arresting like this clarity on A Disabled Person In The Group like. much much to consider & whew.#reference point like when autistic ppl in some job see an obvious [problem to future mess] pipeline; so you know bruno madrigal. My Vision #When You're So Hated like hey i wanna live unseen w/my so hated little friends lol. just reread how to disappear completely never be found #when it's like grabbing people Who Cares if someone's being ''obviously'' disabled or weird just as how they are existing godddd #people get so mean like Who Cares just talk to them; be around them. some effort some mind your own business some You're Not Above Them #when it's obviously You like yeah. nonzero but limited applicability like [specifically my own nuclear family] but re: Weird; Disabled #as ever i'll Relate & be like but i probably seem nothing like that. or maybe i am very much like that. kind of difficult to tell b/c like #you Do get the disinterest lol & feedback is Not that familiar / in depth even if positive like well. the emergent So Hated / Scapegoating #noting like if a character just seems refreshingly familiar; Understood; comfortable; fun; what's the odds they're cishet allistic lol....#anyway the epiphany like oh it was figurative blink & you miss it stuttering....did [waiiit] Pace that one off like inhaaale Waugh #in fact i'm sure the Verbalizing Effort has staved off the kind of [thinks about all of it a moment] to go Aauughhh about again #which; again; also something happening 5 yrs in re: the clairvoyant soothsayer autistic neuroqueer quant on the show w/No Thoughts abt it #ppl being invalidated by others having to validate themselves (& others in the same boat); billions going & How We Hate Them For It lol #oh & encanto's [excluded party's effort to partake] tragedy vs billions' [where's winston in this office? this event?] good riddance idc

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byoldervine · 7 months ago

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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago

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Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #angst #angst with a happy ending #john soap mactavish

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frecklystars · 1 year ago

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He is so handsome!!!! He is so handsome!!!!! My sweet boy!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 My Ken is so handsome and for WHAT!!!!!! To give me a heart attack???? god!!!!!! look at his smile!!! he is everything to me!!!! I'd be holding his hand the entire time, telling him how beautiful he is... I'd give him a tour of every city if it meant I could look at my boyfriend's smile all damn day and know it's all for me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💞💓💖💖💗💓💞💕💕💟💝💞

#TO BE SO CLEAR: I AM TALKING ABOUT THE CHARACTER #don't get me wrong. the actor is handsome. i will scream to the heavens how hot ryan is #but just to clarify i would not point at a real life celebrity and call him my boyfriend sdljfsdfdf #well maybe i would but in a joking way. you know what i mean. anyway #love notes #ken #💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-#THE THIRD ONE. OH GOD #i want him to look at me that way. SO fondly. SO softly #THE FIRST ONE GOD FUCKING DAMN IT #thats such a good full body reference for this costume. outfit? costume? outfit #it's probably my favorite outfit he wears. if i had to pick one #i love all of them so dearly but something about this one makes me feral #like just something about it. i gotta have him i NEED him so badly #second favorite is his outfit he wears when he's playing the guitar for barbie #he's so hot!!! in everything!!! i also love his sailor outfit i think he looks so cute in white pants #and the clothes he wears when he accepts his nobel prize in horses... hooo #god i wanna kiss him so so so soooo badddd #i hope he would wanna kiss me too 😭 im still a little shaky on feeling loved by f/os after what happened to me #but i wanna imagine he'd still love me. i'd do anything for it ;_;#i'll be anything he wants me to be if i can just be worthy #in the future i wont question if im worthy of love anymore. but god damn for a while im gonna be hurting a little bit #i love him so so so much and most of the time i feel like he loves me too ;_; i rly rly hope he does #i miss him. ughh god fuck #gotta go see this movie again... i saw it yesterday but that was YESTERDAY #need to see it my next day off. it's still thankfully playing in theaters #love notes: ken ♡

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soarrenbluejay · 8 months ago

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Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

#basically I want a fic where it’s not the Batfam but Gotham itself latching onto Danny #also more angy lil baby man Dan in big puffy coats being protective #dp x dc #dc x dp #gotham

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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months ago

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whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly.

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him.

“How was work?�� you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting.

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?”

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.”

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.”

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table.

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him.

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.”

He circles to the foot of the bed.

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?”

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease.

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes.

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces.

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered.

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.”

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you.

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Don’t patronize me.”

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you.

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.”

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.”

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip.

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.”

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?”

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough.

“I like hearing you say yes.”

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate.

“Yes, you can take them off.”

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed.

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.”

“My attitude is your fault.”

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.”

“Spencer,” you grit.

He slings your ankles over his shoulders.

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.”

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?”

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his.

“Are you just saying that?”

Another kiss.

“No! Mean it,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds.

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur.

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous.

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.”

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message.

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?”

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you.

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!”

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak.

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth.

“You can take it for a minute, honey,”

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth.

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on.

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.”

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.”

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.”

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.”

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.”

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.”

“Don’t go spreading it around.”

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer.

“You’re not even a little scared of me?”

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes.

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.”

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again.

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts.

“Oh, do I?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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agatharkn3ss · 10 days ago

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Nicky's Rio son too.

I feel there were so many lines that imply this and the finale is starting to make more sense - especially because the dandelion in the trial!

Jen explains that Green Craft™ is about the cycle of all living things - growth and decay in constant flow. So it's not just about dying but being born too.

So it would track that Rio's love for Agatha was so strong that it actually created life - Nicky. However, there would be consequences to this because proper balance had to be maintained somehow. Rio probably even warned Agatha about it, but Agatha always believes she is above the rules so in her head she probably thought she had every right to Nicky (maybe even her "prize" that she alludes to in their final confrontation). This would really add to Rio's hurt - Nicky was her son too. She thought she was giving Agatha a gift of life, but instead Agatha sees her as this cruel "evil" that "gave her nothing". To her Rio is the one who just "took."

It feels like it is also implied by Rio at the start of the episode when she says "This walk with another woman's son on a road that doesn't...". She could be referring to Nicky being her son.

But I think Agatha finally accepts her truth during the final trial when she sees the dandelion seed in her cameo. She even says "Out of Death - life" as she grows it because she finally understands the literal implications of that phrase.

That Dandelion is representation of Nicky. And sure enough, as soon as the flower grows and blossoms, it quickly enters the final stage - when it turns into the seeds that can be scattered by the wind again and continue the cycle of life. Because guess what, "dandelions produce seeds asexually by apomixis, where the seeds are produced without pollination, resulting in offspring that are genetically identical to the parent plant".

When Nicky is born, we could probably assume it was indeed asexual reproduction - Agatha says she didn't use a spell or incantation, but instead he was made from scratch (obviously a clever nod to his name). On one hand it could be read like Agatha is astonished how something this magical could happen without actually using any witchcraft. However, this also feels like a suggestion that maybe she is just amazed at how he could possibly exist. Kathryn Hahn in her recent interview alluded to how the witches didn't need men, babies were just born. So it was Rio's "dandelion seed" that made it happen.

It is the second characteristic of dandelion species is what seals the deal for me - "the offspring being genetically identical to the parent plant". Nicky as the offspring of Death needs bodies to survive in this realm. During his birth Rio says she can offer only time, because she can maintain the balance, as long as Nicky gets his bodies.

That's why she hates Rio and calls her evil - not because of Rio herself, but because of what her "genetics" did to Nicky. Agatha would rather have people believe that she is this evil witch killer that traded her child for the Darkhold, than anyone to know the awful truth that it was Nicky who was the cause of the killings.

In the flashbacks, there are those remarks about how they haven't "eaten for days" and that whenever Nicky was poorly he said he was hungry. Agatha said she couldn't create the food for him (and protect him from what's coming). She could've cooked that goat they had with them if they were really that hungry (btw, I still believe that goat is Senor Scratchy), but that wasn't the "food" that Nicky meant.

And just like Billy, Rio couldn't just take Nicky. He had to "turn himself in". It was his choice not to kill any more witches. On the day Nicky dies, he says "My mother needs me home". I think he is talking about Rio here, since he usually calls Agatha "Mama". This is the moment the decides for himself and goes home to Death.

I feel like this opens the possibility that we will indeed see Nicholas Scratch in the future (and have a role similar to the one in the comics). That maybe even he might not have "died" because he is an offspring of death, so he just exists in some Underworld realm, where he no longer needs bodies to survive. Maybe Agatha might have hoped that by killing more and more witches, she will bring Nicky back to life/this realm?

And the Ballad really was a protection spell she made for him too?

This would also be a more plausible explanation why Agatha went to kiss Rio when Billy asked "Is this how Nicky died?". I feel this was more of an apology to Rio for hating her for Nicky's treatment, because she finally understood why she had to do it?

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal #agathario #nicholas scratch #green witch #lady death #mcu fandom #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

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amazinglyashy · 14 days ago

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Hi , I love your LADs works it fits the would be characters reactions according to their personality and I look forward to your work. Can I request a LADs men reaction to reader reading smut manga or BL smut , only if your comfortable with it. Thank you and All the best for your future endeavours 🥰

I have a tab I'm going through right now of a bunch of josei manga and then I open tumblr to this ask LMAO I feel personally attacked, so of course anon! Thank you for the sweet words, and for the request!

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to discovering you being an avid smut reader

Sylus -

He is such an evil person.

If he manages to find a physical copy that you own, he's going to read it and he's going to do it in his own time when he knows you'll be coming over soon. He times it just right where he'll be near the ending by the time you get there.

You walk in to him looking absolutely exquisite in reading glasses, a small smile on his lips as he leans back in his chair to ask you how your day has been- book in hand.

The embarrassment is real, even if you claim to not care about 'cringey' things and consuming them. Your love is sitting there with a smutty book in his hand and a knowing grin, and you can't help how hot your face is getting.

"You know, if you like something, you should just tell me, kitten."

Maybe he's referring to the contents of the book, maybe he's referring to your general enjoyment of the genre, you can't tell. He does mean both, though. He would buy you a library worth of smutty books if it made you happy, and he would get all the needed supplies to commit the same acts the characters do for you the next time the two of you have a session.

"Did you really think I'd be upset by something like this, sweetie? You're cute. I'm glad you found something you enjoy. In the future though, don't keep secrets from me. I want to know about you. Everything, about you."

Rafayel -

He will come up behind you to ask you something, and realize that you can't hear him due to being engrossed or having headphones in. He doesn't mean to snoop, but your screen is on display for him, and you don't know he's there.

Oh, he's so happy he decided to try and ask you something.

By the time you realize he's behind you, it's too late, and attempting to shut off your phone proves unsuccessful because he's already giggling.

"How much did you see?!"

"Not much."

"Liar!"

And you're right, because after a moment of silence, he will proceed to recite the last page you had been reading, ducking out of the way as you jump up, your face reddening, as you chase him around the room.

He doesn't care in the slightest. In fact, he will absolutely surprise you with shipping merch from whatever it is you've been reading, and remind you when new chapters are about to drop in case you forget due to stress at work.

Rafayel will also ask you how certain characters are doing, or how certain relationships are coming along. If you enjoyed watching soap operas, he's absolutely the one to watch over your shoulder and ask you questions to catch up.

He still makes rude quips here and there, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it, and the involvement is strangely comforting.

Zayne -

He's known for a long time. Benefits of knowing you when the two of you were younger, he has a pretty good read on the things you might or might not enjoy without needing an explicit answer.

That, and you left a doujinshi on his coffee table once after you used his spare key to break into his home to clean and surprise him with dinner after you had gotten off of work surprisingly early.

No, he won't let you live it down.

He will find a way to calmly bring it up in the most absurd and unnecessary situations. It's his own little running joke that makes you so adorably frustrated, he can't help but continue it.

He'll find other ways to tease you about it, much like how you occasionally tease him over his sweet tooth despite you loving snacks just as much as he does.

Sometimes though, he likes to throw you through a little bit of a loop.

"But also, if there is any content in what you've been reading that you believe you would enjoy, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"I enjoy all of it, that's why I read it, Zayne."

"I assume you misunderstood me, so allow me to restructure my sentence. If there's anything in what you've been reading that you would like done to you, I would like to know. I would love to do those things to you, whatever they might be."

Xavier -

He has purchased you some of these books and ebooks.

Probably the Li that would know the soonest out of all four of them aside from Zayne, just because he kind of just... assumed, much to your own mortification when he told you this fact months ago.

He doesn't give a crap though, it's something you like. He doesn't see any difference between it and the claw machines, even though there is an extremely stark contrast between the two. He used to see no point to the claw machine games you'd love to play, but quickly saw the appeal when he got to play with you.

Maybe he can't share your enjoyment for this, but he does love sitting in the same room as you, reading together even if the two books being consumed are vastly different in content.

He just enjoys your company, it really doesn't matter to him what you both do, or in this case, enjoy during that time.

He thinks its really cute and endearing, especially if you reach a point in whatever you're reading that gets you squealing out loud. Because not only is it absolutely adorable to hear, it's also nice because he knows it means you're comfortable enough to react out loud to your reading, even if it's a rare occurrence.

It's nice to know you're relaxed around him, in every capacity.

#.writey #love and deepspace #lads #lds #x reader #lnds #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader

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i-smoke-chapstick · 11 days ago

Note

saw that you're in your got era so perhaps jealousy headcanons for the got or hotd characters? 👀 literally anyone from these characters - robb, jaime, margaery, oberyn, theon, cersei or ramsay, I'd love to see your interpretation on any of them ! ( or aemond, alicent, aegon, gwayne, OTTO !!, larys, daemon or mysaria for hotd, again whichever era you feel like it !!) and just for future reference, do you write for asoiaf characters or mainly the shows?

'LOVE CAN KILL, [jealousy! hcs]

-GOT / HOTD CHARACTERS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Robb, Jaime, Margaery, Oberyn, Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay, Tyrion, The Hound, Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Gwayne, Daemon

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; jealousy, and how some characters deal with it ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOT and HOTD!characters x female reader. SFW! But naturally, some of these characters get a bit suggestive! Possessive behavior, canon typical violence, etc. Please send in more GOT/HOTD requests! Apologies this took so long, this is more characters in a post than I've ever done lol. Unfortunately I'm not super familiar with Otto, Larys, Theon, or Mysaria, so I decided to pick some characters I'm more familiar with! (Joffrey is my #1 favorite of all time, my sincerest apologies.) Whew, 14 characters ! For right now I'm only writing for the TV shows! (i've only read book 1, lol)

𝑅𝛰𝐵𝐵 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾

♫ “I wasn't thinking when I told you to stay.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

With Robb, it's all about the body language. And boy, he's horrible at hiding it.

He can have a hard time placing the feeling as jealousy. He was raised to be honorable. But feelings of...neglect run deep with him. Oldest child syndrome, if you will.

Which is why his jealousy most likely manifests in subdued, quiet behavior. Part of him will recognize he's being ridiculous, while another part of him is silently fuming. Fists clenched, he'll send you an intense stare as he watches you converse with another lord.

His emotions leak through his expressions. When he catches you staring back, his gaze will flit down, and he'll wait patiently for you're time. Or...in most cases...he'll march right up, placing himself between you and the man. Maybe a small, "I'll take it from here." If the lord is offering to help you with something.

A subtle touch on the small of your back. It's a small claim, a subtle "back-off."

A lot of his jealousy also transforms into protectiveness more than anything. He'll offer to accompany reader to places he wouldn't normally be concerned about. He's close by, and he's reminding her wordlessly, he's watching over her and any threat.

Finally, when you two are alone, will he drop down that guard of his. Covering up that burning pit inside him with casual humor, you can sense the underlaying seriousness of his voice in his light teases.

"You’re quite popular these days. Should I be worried that I’m not your only admirer?"

He certainly beds you, having something to prove. And only afterwards when you are in his arms, sweaty and warm from the candlelight, wrapped in furs...will he calm down.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s them I don’t trust. Some men don’t know how to keep their place." He'll whisper, holding onto you firmly.

𝐽𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “You don't know that you're in over your head.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Jaime's jealousy is burning. It's simply the way he was raised. And gods, you are his.

Numerous sarcastic remarks flow between the two of you and the man who he believes has essentially stolen your affections. His taunts are offhand, dry remarks, often directed towards his "opponent" or even you, if he's feeling bitter enough.

"I didn’t realize he was such a comedian. Maybe I should ask him for pointers." He'll say, with that sarcastic drawl. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous. Not that it would work, of course." He chuckles, but his gaze is sharp.

Depending on the offense, Jaime's reactions differ. If you simply have an admirer, a few...well chosen words are directed towards them. His confidence allows him to not be too bothered. Maybe standing closer, clearly showing off to whatever poor soul thought they had a shot with you.

It's a different story if you are friends with the person involved, or entertain their advances even mildly or jokingly.

That's when the uncharacteristic tension comes out, full of small twitches in his jaw and curt, smug responses. His visible annoyance is uncontrolled.

We saw how he was with Loras when it came to Cersei. If he feels truly threatened, whether it's by another pretty boy, or just someone he feels could...hypothetically...have the upper hand...He'll corner them when you're off somewhere else. And give a small warning, from the Kingslayer himself.

"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with, so let me remind you." He leans in just close enough for his words to sink in. "Whatever you think you might be to her… you’re not. Let’s keep it that way, hm? I'd hate to see you make any...lasting mistakes."

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “It was just too hard to push you away.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Margaery is smart with her feelings. She knows how to play the game, and play it well. Instead of showing her jealousy openly, she's a touch more composed than most characters on this list.

She recognizes just how precious you are, and admires that. She doesn't necessarily blame others when they become...attached to you.

When jealousy arises, she views it more as a small problem in need of being handled. And she knows how to handle things.

She embraces the graceful competition, subtly outshining anyone who seems to get in the way of her goals. Her goal being you're affection, of course. You're already hers, and she sees no problem in working to keep it that way.

This appears in gestures of strategic sweetness to keep you close, perhaps wearing your favorite gowns on her, and offering that charming smirk. She doesn't shy away from manipulating you, just a teeny bit.

"They’re certainly captivated by you. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to keep your attention." She teases, "Besides, who could ever compare to us?"

Her words carry a playful undertone, but she makes her point clear. Laughing charmingly, threading her arm through yours.

Very rarely does she think she's in any serious danger. She prides herself on being yours and knowing how to keep you on a tight leash. Though...if she feels genuinely worried, she expresses her feelings quite clearly but still gently. She reminds her lover of their shared goals, and all that they've built together.

"My, you do attract admirers easily, don’t you? I’ll have to start guarding you more closely." She gives you a playful look, though her touch on your arm will linger just a bit longer than usual.

𝛰𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑌𝑁 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “Let me go, but you won't let me go.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oberyn doesn't feel insecure. How could he? He knows, deep down, that you're his. Jealousy isn't something he confines himself too, he views it as an ugly emotion, capable of getting rid of the true wonders love has to offer.

That being said...he is only a man. And he is fiercely protective. If anyone were to flirt with you and you were clearly uninterested, it would be a swift death, or at the very least, he'd make his point clear with a blow or two and a cutting edge remark. Especially if they are a Lannister. He enjoys you being admired, but only to a certain extent.

"Your efforts are wasted, they’re far too captivating for someone like you. I’d suggest you find someone more... suited to your charms." He begins, hand itching for his spear, "Consider this your first and last warning."

Yeah, he means business.

Most of the time, he spins the situation to show-off. Showcase his own passion and devotion to you. If it's simply a friend of yours, he may even offer them to join in. If not, he'll spend the entire night practically worshipping you, promising that he's the only one who could ever make you feel like this.

Similarly to Margaery, he teases you lightly.

"You have a lovely laugh. But I must admit, it’s much better when it’s for me alone."

Oberyn doesn't shy away from PDA either. It's that assertive reclaiming he seems to favor, pulling you close, whispering something that affirms your affections for each other. He'll revel when he watches the other mans face fall in dismay.

He might get cocky, and push it a bit far. By the time he's done, the 'competition' will be utterly humiliated and embarrassed. He'll be smirking at his own quips.

"I assure you, my friend, my lover favors...more substantial things." He motions to the poor mans crotch.

You're gonna have to give him a slap on the arm.

𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸𝐼 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “Consequence of loving me can be cruel.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Cersei's jealousy is intense and multifaceted, to say the least. It manifests in a mix of cold fury and harsh threats, channeling that anger into much more controlling behavior.

Deep down, she is terribly insecure. Once another man or woman as your attention, and she catches on, she's coolly lashing out. And she catches on quickly.

At first she may appear indifferent, but if you look close enough, you can see the subtly giveaways. The way her lip curls, her nostrils flare, and her knuckles go white gripping her wine chalice.

If you're the first one to confront her, and attempt to reassure her, you'll save yourself some trouble down the line. Guaranteed, she'll deny it, but still make a passive-aggressive remark here and there. But eventually she'll calm down, edges softening.

That rare moment of vulnerability that you're not sure is manipulation or not. She'll look towards the ground, running her thumb over you're hand on her cheek. She'll sit on the edge of her bed, jaw clenched.

Now, it's a whole different story if you don't catch on to the early signs. If you don't manage to reassure or call her out in time, that jealousy implodes.

She may confront you first, anger bleeding through her. She runs on it. She may even threaten you, oblivious to the potential consequences her words might have.

“You think you can charm your way into my affections by paying attention to that little fool?" She's standing up, loathing distorting her features. Her voice raises. "Perhaps I should throw a feast in her honor. Let’s see how charming she is when surrounded by my people."

It's threats and threats and more and more threats...which can be especially worrying if the person she's jealous of is a friend of yours.

Almost every scenario ends with you having to comfort her, treading carefully with the words you say.

Now, when it comes to confronting the competition, she makes it very clear. Though, these threats are often much more impulsive. A swig of wine, and she gracefully moves towards them when you're out of sight.

A faux compliment or two, before she whispers, close.

“You’ll find that my guards are quite loyal to me. A simple command, and they’ll ensure you never breathe the same air as her again.”

It only makes her feel a bit better. But, regardless, she's smiling smugly, feeling proud of herself when the offenders face turns white.

𝐽𝛰𝐹𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑌 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸𝛰𝑁

♫ “Too much love can kill.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh, Joffrey. I'm obsessed with him.

Yeah. He has the worst jealousy issues out of everyone on this list. It's baaaaad. It's a cocktail of insecurity, possessiveness, and entitlement. As someone who has been raised to believe he is above others, and has been coddled his entire life...it infuriates him.

It's the same feeling you get as a child, when someone steals one of your toys. You belong to him. He never grew out of that mentality, or that feeling.

Be prepared for plentiful outbursts of anger. He's a tantrum personified, especially if he feels disrespected. Insecurity grips him tight and refuses to let up until he's either been heavily reassured...or the other person is... taken care of.

And even then, after reassuring him for hours, it may not be enough. You know how he hired a knight to take out Tyrion in the Battle of Blackwater? Yeah. That person will be paid a little 'visit.'

When reassuring him, similar to Cersei, you really have to be careful what you say, or it might make the situation even worse. At that point, he's seeing red.

"I’m the king! You should be grateful for my attention, not chasing after scraps!" He's huffing, pointing to himself as his breathing increases. He'll look at you with an ice cold glare, nose wrinkled in distaste.

He might even force his hand around your face, harshly grabbing you. He looks dead into your eyes, voice clear and low. "You're mine. You belong to me." He's seething.

If he notices you simply looking at anyone else too long, he'll feel beyond threatened in both his masculinity and position as king. Especially if you laugh at another mans jokes, or simply attempt to be friendly with a commoner or lord.

"What’s so amusing? You’d think you’d find better entertainment than that fool." He mutters under his breath harshly, bad habit of picking at his fingers. He'll shuffle uncomfortably. He'll look to you expecting agreeance. It's 100% that mentality of 'Friends? You don't need friends. You have me.'

Yeah, he keeps the very blunt insults coming. Petulant name calling is not above him. Includes, but is not limited too, "Degenerates, Idiots, Commoners, Peasants, or Cretins" which he may describe as being "Stupid, Disgusting, Repellent, Sickening, or Revolting." He's got a LOT of those angry remarks in the bank.

While he may not directly confront the offender, (he doesn't have time for idle threats.) He has his own ways of dealing with them. And that is a public humiliation ritual, making a mockery of any rival. And if they disobey ANY whim of his, they're gone. That one scene with Tyrion at his wedding? That "Kneel!"? He's commanding the same of any man unlucky enough to have threatened his claim on you. Oh, and they're going to be his cupbearer.

Even if they do as he asks, by now his anger will have transformed into that renewed sense of cruelty. "You're fingers or your tongue?...Or I could just cut your throat."

𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑆𝐴𝑌 𝐵𝛰𝐿𝑇��𝑁

♫ “You're gonna suffer now, whatever you do.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

His jealousy may not be as overtly intense as Joffrey's, but it certainly is the scariest.

In his own words, he prefers being an only child. That same kind of mentality certainly carries over to his relationship with you. He prefers to be the only one you see that way.

He loves a good game, and that's what this is. If anything, it's quite exhilarating for him. Though, he is a huge hypocrite. For a man who thinks jealousy is boring coming from you, he feels it quite freely.

Sees it as a means of asserting dominance, whether that be through intimidation or overt manipulation. He doesn't deny it like most characters on this list. When he's feeling jealous, he says it. It's a small warning for you not to go any farther, lest worse things occur for you or the perceived threat.

He'll go up to whoever you are talking too, saccharine and honorable smile on his face. He'll casually interrupt, introducing himself as Lord Bolton's successor. Despite his calm demeanor, there is a tightness in his face, and a wicked look in his eyes, that only you can recognize. It will make you shiver.

If the rival persists, he'll find it all too amusing.

"You're bold, I'll give you that." He says with a boisterous laugh, and you already know the mans fate is sealed.

Looks like his hounds will be having another meal tonight. He'll have his men go out looking for the man, and he'll question him more...privately, when you aren't there to witness his tortuous taunts.

But for now, his focus is on you, and your loyalty to him. When he excuses the both of you, his hand is gripping yours painfully tight.

By the time you're in his chamber, he's on you, ripping your clothes off with a harsh intensity and pushing you to the wall. His nose is twitching in barely kept anger, forcing you to look at him.

We all saw that scene between him and Myranda when she threatens to marry someone else, and it was not pretty. His eyes are borderline bloodshot, and he can't keep his hands off you or your throat.

"You're mine." He leans forward, through gritted teeth. It's better you don't put up a fight, because he'll be having you and your attention one way or another.

Que the numerous kisses and bite marks soon to follow. And he is not gentle when he's inside you.

You'll never hear from the flirtatious lord again...and if you do, it's only in the prayers of his grieving family.

𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐼𝛰𝑁 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “My love, you are not safe with me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Now, Tyrion's jealousy is more subdued and introspective versus some characters on this list. He has a good sense of self-awareness, and he's intelligent to figure out what he's feeling quite quickly.

At first he'll dismiss it as nothing more than an annoying feeling of insecurity he attempts to cover up. But...it doesn't last long. Especially when someone else makes you laugh. Or when Bronn makes a taunt with a half smirk, that some other fancy lord has taken a keen interest in his lady. (Bronn, you instigator!)

As such, Tyrion resorts to his usual humor to deflect any unpleasant feelings he may have when he's jealous. Similar to his brother, these witty remarks are are subtle intimidation technique, meant to dryly convey his displeasure.

"Ah, the sound of laughter. How quaint. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to earn your amusement." He forces a smile, masking his discomfort. "I didn’t realize I was competing for the title of Court Jester."

These feelings of inadequacy manifest in more self-deprecating ways for Tyrion, given his anger is more controlled. He might opt to drown his sorrows, so don't be surprised if you catch him drunkenly waving his chalice around, doing poor impressions of the so-called-lord that had your attention.

This doesn't mean he won't confront the rival, though. Quite the opposite. While he won't seek the man out, (For his sake, he isn't privy to seeing the tall handsome lord in person. He's not a masochist.) If he happens to come across him flirting with you first hand, or sees him during a feast, he'll make sure to throw one or two gibes out there.

"Desperation looks unflattering on you, my friend. Perhaps you should tone it down a notch." He speaks carefully, nodding to Bronn as a subtle warning. "Or at least the best you can manage..?"

If the rival flirts with you blatantly and in front of him, I can 100% imagine him putting them down. After a flirtatious remark directed towards you, he'll make a dry comment, "Flattery is wasted on me, but do go on; I’m always entertained by those who think they can win my affection." As if it was directed towards him. Probably shuts the man up for a moment.

When the two of you are alone, he'd be very grateful if you could just hold him. Give him that reassurance he craves when his carefree facade breaks. That moment of vulnerability means the world to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐷𝛰𝑅 "𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝛰𝑈𝑁𝐷" 𝐶𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I need you to go, don't fight me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Listen up, Sandor doesn't take shit.

Jealousy isn't an emotion Sandor is particularly used too. In fact, he didn't think he'd find anyone to love in his lifetime, so the feeling is foreign and unpleasant. And, like a mean dog, Sandor's first reaction is to growl.

He doesn't like it. Says it's constricting, and it pisses him off. Not just the pretty boy lord flirting with you, but the whole situation in general. Makes him feel vulnerable, and weak.

Naturally, his first reaction is to distance himself. He may avoid you, grumbling, spitting out vile and vulgar comments to get you to run with your tail between your legs. It's better for the both of you that way.

"You think they’re worth your time? Just a pretty smile to distract you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You could do better. But then again, you always choose to suffer." He motions at himself, and it's a glimpse of that self-depreciation he buries.

But you love him for a reason, and you know that won't end well. Best way to handle him when he's jealous is to be gentle, and to listen.

He doesn't want empty reassurances. He's complicated that way, even if they are genuine. He isn't one for flowery words or overt displays of emotion, so the best way to comfort him would be to give him some space, but continue to take care of him.

It will still frustrate him, but eventually he'll cave. He'll rejoin you, silently, eventually. Won't offer any apologies, but maybe a gruff nod, and you two will commence whatever it is you two have.

In future instances, he becomes much more brutally honest with how he feels. Doesn't sugarcoat it. If he doesn't like someone, even if they are a friend, he expects them gone- or he'll take care of them regardless. That kind of possessive behavior is just something you'll have to work through.

I can imagine him silently brooding if he witnesses someone flirting with you first hand. Typically his size and reputation is enough to scare whoever away. He's looming over them, eyes dark, and ready to defend what's his.

When you take your leave, he'll confront the person with a very explicit threat or two.

"If you don’t back off, I’ll find a nice dark corner to stuff you in- preferably with a pile of shit." Or, "Get any closer, and I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat."

𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “Get swallowed by the weight.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aemond has the most...complex jealousy out of everyone on this list. It's layered, and the outcome may be unpredictable. It's an emotional and volatile nature that's been building up for years since he was a child.

He often had feelings of jealousy for his brother, his nephews, etc. That trauma is deeply rooted in him, and it's hard to let go of old habits, given it's been present all his life.

You'll watch his head bow in distaste when you make small conversation with other lords. How his eye will gaze at you, almost warningly. His jaw will be clenched tight, and he'll avoid eye contact, looking off to the side in anger. He doesn't want to watch.

If it's a friend of yours, he can be a bit mean, questioning your loyalty a bit harshly.

"Friendship? Is that what you call it?" He speaks, angrily. A thinly veiled threat is directed to you, "It seems more like a prelude to betrayal."

He'll brood in the corner, silently waiting. That is, unless, he deems the man goes too far.

In the scene where he gets his eye put out by Lucerys, the conversation that starts before it happens pretty much sums his jealousy up. He's firm with his claim to Vaghar, and the same goes for you.

When Rhaena states that Vaghar was hers to claim, Aemond responds in kind, "Then you should've claimed her." And puts up a hell of a fight to prove his point. That same possessiveness carries over to his relationship with you. He doesn't back down. You're his.

He has no problems getting in between you and the man he feels threatened of. He offers a blunt threat.

"I could have you torn apart, limb by limb, and I’d sleep soundly at night. Be certain of that."

Guaranteed, mixed feelings of insecurity will rise to the surface. When you two are alone, he'll continue to brood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body language tight.

Please do reassure him. He needs it. His eye will soften, and he'll place his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. With a soft huff of an air, a final warning slips past his lips.

"Don’t make me remind you why I’m the only one worthy of you."

𝐴𝐸𝐺𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “I wanna hold on tightly.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aegon handles jealousy poorly, much like he seems to handle everything else.

It's like throwing gasoline on a fire. Once that feeling in his chest flares up, it's shown through erratic behavior, sarcasm, and attempts to assert his claim in juvenile, insecure ways. Unlike his brother, he lacks the restraint to simply brood.

No, be prepared for plenty of mocking comments directed towards the man he's threatened of, and showy displays to prove he's the better choice.

Everyone knows he is unpredictable and reckless, and possessiveness drives him to act out. He certainly overindulges to cope with his insecurity, (getting shitfaced) and will gladly push your boundaries to get your attention back on him.

Not to mention the belittling comments he'll make.

"Oh, is that who you’ve chosen to entertain now? I didn’t realize your taste had grown so dull."

Prone to acting overtly clingy, almost like a restless cat. He will attempt to slide over into the conversation, resting an arm around you, or even pulling you away. He doesn't care if it's 'improper.' He probably brings up his status, his bloodline, acting over-the-top.

He's also no stranger to outbursts. His temper may make him lash out impulsively, whether that be towards you or the man whose got your attention. If he's in a particular mood, be ready to deal with a screaming Aegon, threatening to slaughter and burn said rival. His fist will come down hard on the council table.

He also doesn't care if he's making a show of it in front of the council members. Que Alicent or Otto attempting to placate him. He needs to have a cooler head if he's going to be ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and this type of behavior isn't very becoming.

He definitely thinks he's owed some make-up sex, if only to quell the insecure storm raging inside him.

"You think they could satisfy you? Truly?" He says, firmly, as he steps closer. Anger is burning in his words, volume raising. "They wouldn’t even know where to begin."

And he plans to show you that he's right.

𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “I'm afraid I'll pull you over the edge.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Alicent experiences jealousy complexly, just like Aemond. It gnaws on her until she's at her breaking point. Rather than overt displays or confrontations, she attempts to employ more strategic distance...but it always ends up resorting in icy politeness.

She's making her displeasure known through restrained, pointed remarks. Out of duty and pride, she'll attempt to avoid direct confrontation, but she wears her jealousy on her sleeve.

I imagine her withdrawing from the situation at first, if not for anything but her own sake. Her gut reaction, out of insecurity, is to escape the situation. It honestly makes her feel sick.

Unless she's forced to stay...then she'll begrudgingly offer a tight smile. Her responses are carefully measured, and she slips into that role of "queen" rather than a lover.

A part of it stems from passive aggressiveness, and another part of it is purely subconscious.

Speaking of passive aggressiveness, she'll make some pretty cutting remarks, either questioning your loyalty or purposely feigning ignorance to the situation.

"Perhaps I’m mistaken. But I know loyalty when I see it. Or when I don’t."

It's an all bark, no bite threat towards you. But it serves as an aggressive reminder of your connection with her, and that you are now apart of her duties.

If she does interfere beforehand, she'll make indirect remarks about the person causing her jealousy, but will most likely frame it as merely her own curiosity.

Maybe just a touch of self-depreciation, unintentional manipulation. Years of Otto's techniques have rubbed off on her.

"It’s of little consequence, truly. I simply thought I was the one you preferred to spend your time with. I may have misjudged."

𝐺𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑁𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “Hurts to say it over, over again.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

In contrast to Alicent, Gwayne has no problem when he feels threatened to step in. He's a member of a powerful house, and a knight no less. Those two things have taught him to be prideful and honorable.

He will defend your honor whenever he deems in necessary, and there are no exceptions. He certainly has a flash of a temper, but he believes he's much more restrained than others, given his training.

If he thinks someone is crossing a line, he'll interfere. He'll position himself quite closely to you, making his presence known.

He offers the man a silent warning, offering a cool, assessing look. It would be enough to communicate his disapproval.

And if the man persists...well...they'll end up with the end of a sword pointed at them.

Similar to Robb, Gwayne's jealousy appears more in his heightened protectiveness. He insists on staying close for your safety.

"Do they need to be reminded that you’re already spoken for?"

Obviously, his noble pride carries on. If he gets pushed, his jealousy will show more openly, taking the man aside, and telling them that he is more worthy of her time and attention. Might throw in a comment about his noble standing.

He'll take you aside when everything is said and done, reminding her his intentions are honorable. Everyone else is just...unworthy.

"You may not see it, but I know men like him. If he truly respected you, he wouldn’t need to linger around someone else’s beloved."

𝐷𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ "No matter how you feel." Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh boy, you'll have to keep this man on a tight leash when his jealousy flares up. It's as intense as he is, and he shows it openly.

He'll deny it, or embrace it, depending on the severity of the perceived offense. It's closely tied to that desire for power within him he can't seem to shake. Any affront to your loyalty is an affront to his own standing.

He switches from possessive protectiveness to outright hostility. There's really no in between. It's a raw and unfiltered fury that makes his hand shake and his eye twitch.

He doesn't tolerate rivals, and he's very upfront that he's the only one fit to be by your side. This comes through when he has you all to himself on his bed...

He'll confront the person whether you want him to or not.

"If they value their limbs, they’d remember you’re mine." He mutters casually, pacing around the room.

He carries that hard glint in his eyes. He may even mildly appreciate the sheer balls of the man stupid enough to attempt to flirt with you, but he'll shut it down quicker than anyone on this list.

"You’ve got a bold tongue. I wonder if I should cut it out..?" He'll look to you for permission. It's up to you if you wanna let the dragon loose!

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