#of feeling like these are some of my favorite games with some of my favorite stories

[conkreetmonkey]

Honestly, I envy these people. Imagine being THIS passionate about your profession. Imagine getting to do your favorite thing every day, all day, and getting paid good money for it. Imagine having an easily monetizeable special interest that obviously, unquestionably and tangibly has a positive impact on society.

Like, I'm over here geeking out about... wait a minute. I love building materials, interior design and architecture, and while I'm not employed in the field, I AM strongly considering going to college for architectural engineering, and I DO spend hours playing shit like House Flipper 2, Tiny Glade, and Fallout 4 (almost exclusively for the settlement building, fuck my bitch-ass son he can stay lost there's roofs to patch and scrap to jerry-rig into beautiful furniture, bitch), meticulously arranging things to be square and true by individual degrees and game units and cycling through countertop and wood stain options for hours...

...shit, I think this post has genuinely helped me figure something out about myself. Why the fuck do I feel all self conscious about my deep yearning to fix shit, it's a great passion to have. I SHOULD become an architectural engineer or something. Like, I was spackling up dents in the drywall for fun the other day and feeling guilty about it. What the fuck. Why have I been feeling like this is some sort of stupid, silly passion to have. 95% of people fucking hate doing home repairs and building fences and mapping out paving block patterns, yet the design, construction and maintainence of buildings is wholly neccesary for society to function.

...ok like legitimately, I have some things to think about now... some soul searching to do... thank you, Farm Simulator post. If the youth employment program I'm signing up for allows it, I may finally bite the bullet and contact my local Habitat For Humanity about volunteer opportunities... I've wanted to for years, but have been afraid of getting shit on for "working for free" (when I know I'd enjoy every second of it)...

...I think I really DO wanna go back to college. Oh my god.

just learned about farming simulator

I mean, I already knew about it, but I just learned about it

Did you know that the target audience for Farming Simulator is actual real-world farmers? Because I didn’t. I just assumed that farmers probably don’t want to go home from a day of farming to do some (presumably highly inaccurate) virtual farming?

Like, imagine if the target audience for Power Washing Simulator was actual professional power washers.

Farming Sim gets sponsored by companies and shit to put ads in their games. But since the game is for farmers, all of the ads target farmers. Advertising products that, realistically, only farmers would be interested in. Aka John Deere tractors and shit.

There’s a fucking farming sim esports league. Where do they play? Agriculture conventions. not gaming conventions. agriculture conventions.

[jd-loves-fiction]

hii~ how are you, dear?

so.. how do you think leona or (and) malleus would react when they see someone flirting with mc and mc flirting back? (they are not a couple yet but already have feelings for each other. mc didn't flirt with the other people seriously, they were just playing)

🌑can you tell I have a favorite 💀🙃

❖ 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 ❖

Oooh you're playing a dangerous game

Chances are Leona's been dropping HEAVY hints that he wants you

If you're not a beastman, there's a chance you haven't noticed but if whoever dared to flirt with you is a beastman and they still decided to do it...

They're about to find out why the lion's the king of the savanna

Leona's not the hesitant kind of guy when it comes to romance, if he wants you he'll make it very clear

But the moment he senses that you might not be interested, he'll back off

That being said, I do believe the actual first step into a relationship would have to be made by you

Reason being that Leona is quite comfortable in his loneliness and in the Sunset Savanna women tend to be the ones making moves

If you're not a woman, my opinion still stands since he's lazy and fine with romance pass him by

So this situation is actually very likely to happen before you get into a relationship

But he will be glaring straight through this pest with his poisonous green gaze until they piss off

If that doesn't happen, then his jealousy might actually persuade to do something like striding up to you and throwing an arm over your shoulders

He won't say anything since he feels he shouldn't need to, just waits for them to give into his glowering and scowling

This might be what triggers a confession, whether from you or him! :D

(The one who'd been flirting with you, however, might never know peace again💀🫡)

❖ 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 ❖

This might be an even more perilous situation (not that you'd notice)

While Leona likely has some experience with romance and therefore isn't all that surprised by this situation

Malleus however (in my opinion) is entirely inexperienced when it comes to love and so unprepared for this

All he feels is ugly green envy crawling around inside his chest

Why are they so close to you? Why would they say those things to you? Why would reciprocate? Do you not care for him as he does you??🥺

Bby is spiraling 💀

Pray Lilia is around (tho he usually is) to help him understand the situation

He'll understand that he just hasn't been clear enough with his advances and so will take this as an opportunity to make them crystal clear

By confessing to you right in front of the other person :)

By the time he's done they should be gone (if they didn't dash off immediately upon seeing THE Malleus Draconia approaching them)

He might become a little more possessive than usual after this occurrence

Can you blame him? He's not used to the feelings you awaken in him :(

Plus, dragons are very protective of their treasure 👀

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊𝒏*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut

-💜

•Daddy Seungmin! Is very playful.

•He likes to tease you in anyway possible.

•Sometimes he can take it too far but he always makes it up to you.

•He’s very, very protective of you.

•He’s definitely got that scary dog privilege.

•He’s not a fighter but anyone makes you feel any type of way he’ll put them in their place one way or another.

•He definitely acts like he doesn’t wanna do cute stuff with you.

•He’ll make a big deal of it but always folding at anything his baby wants.

•Matching PJs? No. He hates it.

•Not really. He loves it.

•Loves it way more than he’ll let you know.

•He has such an aura about him too.

•The look he gives you when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to or giving him attitude?

•Is always enough to make you stop.

•You’ve seen him angry maybe once.

•Some guy trying to grab you. He would have went to jail that day if it wasn’t for you.

•He held you close telling you it wasn’t any of your fault.

•That he wasn’t mad at you.

•Reassuring you how much he loved you especially after seeing how scared you were.

•However the days you want to poke the big bad dog it’s always game over.

•He’s definitely a brat tamer.

•He does like the little attitude you give him though.

•Finding it almost adorable, like a small kitten annoying a well big dog lol.

•He’s quiet when you misbehave badly, which is even scarier.

•”Do you want to fix it before I have to?” He’d ask.

•When you keep going he can’t help but chuckle.

•Manhandling you over his leg making sure you count loud and clear as he gives you your punishment.

•After he always sits you up, having a conversation with you about what you did.

•He’s always there to reassure you that he doesn’t want to do it.

•That he still loves you, but you have to listen.

•Another form of punishment he’s uses is not letting you have any treats.

•No ice cream after dinner, no cookies. Not until you apologize.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•Daddy Seungmin can differ depending on his mood.

•There’s days where he manhandles you.

•Pushing you up against the wall, pulling at your clothes because god you look to pretty.

•These days you’ll leave with marks all over you.

•Soft purple marks all over your neck, nail marks in your soft skin from him holding onto you so tightly.

•Softer days he’s unbearably slow.

•Taking his damn slow time.

•Treating you like glass.

•Soft touches, sensual kisses. Sweet words.

•He’s really good at pushing your boundaries though. In a respectful way.

•He’ll never do anything you don’t want

•You like being spanked though? He’s seeing how many you can take.

•Overstimulation? He’s seeing how many orgasms he can pull from you till you’re crying.

•Some of his favorite things phrases are.

•”see what that attitude brings you”

•”such a filthy thing aren’t you?”

•”you want more? So greedy”

•”begging isn’t gonna get you anywhere sweetheart”

•Aftercare with daddy Seung is full of cuddles.

•He’s not moving from until he knows you’re alright.

•He’ll whisper against your skin how much he loves you.

•How you’re so perfect and you’re all his.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[romanscoming]

“shh .. i got you baby.. just hold onto me .”

its currently 5am .. ive been watching edits of dae-ho &the salesman all fuckin night .. save me ? [ kitty is screaming rn .]

TRIGGERED!NEEDY!DAE-HO KANG [ PLAYER 388 ] x SOFT!GIRLFRIEND!BLACK!READER smut / fluff — 18+

TAGLIST ! | REQUEST ! | WATTPAD .

NEW TAGLIST MAKE SURE TOO JOIN !!

SUMMARY - tossing and turning, the thought of you dying in the next game is hunting dae-ho, eating him from the inside out nd making his night sleepless .. but you know just how to comfort him nd help him sleep thru the night .

¡ WARNING !

dae-ho having PTSD, nightmares, #realmencry, cockwarming to sleep, semi-public sex, mommy kink, daddy kink, cuminside, creamypie, breeding kink, breast play, tit-sucking, babying, rubbing against one nd another, dry-humping (personally my favorite), pussywhipped dae-ho (pussydrunk), cockdrunk reader, both sub; little bit of softdom, “goodboy”, aftercare, lovemaking, praises, bitting, sloppy, heavy breathing, panting .. yk the drill [ ALSO USE OF [name] AS IN ( Y/N ) and YOU SO NO PRONOUNS ]

SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES .

—

DAE-HO WAS TOSSING AND TURNING .. THE IDEA OF YOU DYING AND HIM NOT BEING ABLE TO SAVE YOU WAS EATING HIM ALIVE .. his soft mutters .. “[name] please .. i cant lose you ..”

you were on the bed right on side of him, half asleep and half awake .. listening to his whimpering and soft cries .

the thoughts of how you guys were back at home, always cuddled up whenever one or the other was upset or frustrated .. you guys were a tied together .. soulmates because you both can always feel when something is wrong with the other person .

you fell upset .. thinking hard about what to do, he’d always take care of you and now it was your turn to take care of him .

“dae .. sweetface ?” you called out in a soft tone, but didnt get his attention

quickly lifting your head up to turn to him, you notice the heavy breathing as his body rosed up and down quickly, he was panting .. pillow covering his ears arms locked against his head to keep the pillow in place ..

he having a panic attack.

you jumped up too your knees crawling to his mattress on the floor and touched his cheek making his eyes flicker open like a little baby as the tears started to fall down his cheeks .

“ohh you poor baby .. dae-ho — im here i promise ..” you whispered into his ear as he shook his head no a struggled to maintain his voice on his own as more and more tears fell out his eyes .

you found ahold onto his hand as you softly drew circles around his palm .. and lingered his hand to touch your face .. to bring him back to reality with the touch of the person he truly loved, adored, appreciated, and cared for .

a loud gasp of air was lifted from him, as his eyes fully opened and locked with yours .. his panting slowed but body still was shaking .

he mumbled some “no ..no no no..” as he backs away with a shaking breath trying to focus..

his hand stayed on your face, as you watch him back away you frowned as you pushed your closer sitting on his massive thigh, taking his other hand and placing it on the other side of your face .. staring deeply into his eyes .. “baby .. listen to me dae-ho .. listen to my voice —i am here ..your not gonna lose me —i promise”

“[name] .. ohh pleasee.. pleasee [name]” he whined and whimpered to you .

you nodded your head with a brief sigh which turned into a bright smile as he said your name .. your dae-ho .. you’d helped him just like times before and succeeded .. you were proud of yourself .

dae-ho sighed, throwing his head back with a whine ..

you watched this sight as the hot feeling between your legs started to rise just as your squeezed your legs between his thighs staring at his sweaty form .

his dark eyes lingered to you as he right the heat rise around you both .. he smiled watching you staring rubbing his fingers against your face catching your attention again .

“my [name], my angel ..” he whispered as he softly pulled your head to his lips leaving a soft wet kiss on your forehead then onto the lips .

you chuckled lowly, as you changed position wrapping your legs around his hips now .. a silent moan falling out of both of ur mouths as your wetness touched his half hardened cock.

ignore it, you look at his sweaty form once more before rolling his shirt upwards from the bottom, “your so sweaty baby.. lets take all of this off ..”

he didnt do anything just hummed in agreement, he rosed his arms up as you lifted yourself up to the taller male pulling his shirt all the way off .. and placed wet kisses against his neck, shoulders and collar bone .

his breath increased as you sat back down onto his hard .. groan falling out his mouth as u kissed his chest more ..

“shh .. stay quiet.”

he nodded rapidly, as you smiled and kissed his lips ..

“remember .. at the beach ?” you mumbled to him as he nodded watching you closely as you rubbed against his body with ur hands and slowly started to hump his hard .. brushing ur clothed pussy again his problem .

“mm—uahh~..mhm..” he hummed back to you, “mmm~ ff.. when we soo sleepy but horny ?” you lift your head from his neck looking into his eyes with a gentle smile kissing his cheek .

moving kisses all around his face, his nose, his cheek, his chin, his jaw and the crown of his head and lastly his lips .. a passionate soft but gentle delicate, kiss .

“can you picture us there again for me ?”

his head fell back once more as you started to rolling your hips against his more and more, building up the pace, now moving ur hands to his shoulders to stay steady on his lap .

you chuckle to yourself as the moans escape both of your mouths .. “can you do that for me dae-ho .. huh baby please ?” he nodded too afraid to speak .

you moved quickly as you removed your jacket, slipped out of ur shirt .. nd quickly let your pants fall to the floor .. dae-ho watched all of this as his dick grew harder and harder by the second nd moaned as you pulled his pants along with his boxers down for his thick fat heavy cock fall out .. glistening to the low red and blue light as his angry hot pink tip shined with pre-cum leaking out .

he moaned out a little louder this time as you pressed yourself against him .. “shhh .. give me a second ..” you let out a couple of soft moans as you pulled ur panties to the side exposing your wet pussy to his leaking cock, letting your juices fall onto his length .

you both watched closely before looking up into each other eyes, you smiled at him before sliding ur pussylips on the side of his dick, back and forth holding onto his shoulders as he held onto ur waist .

he sucked in a sharp breath before moving one hand to your tits, squeezing them and pulling at ur nipples as you threw your head back letting out low moans holding onto him tighter .

he continued this act, as his head rolled back repeatedly and stared at the frame of both of ur bodies touching, trailing his eyes back to your shape, your breast, shoulders, neck and ur face structure .

he looked at your breast once more before looking up at you with pleasing look, and you nodded “go ahead.. ask be a good boy and ask .”

he whined, before stared into your eyes as he opened his mouth and moans fell out .. “aaah~ please ma-mommy please —“ you frowned at him, “please what hm ? tell me .”

“can.. i-i—ahh~ please.. i cant .” he whimpered as his head fell to your shoulder .. you were teasing him, everything he opened his mouth you grind ur clit again his tip rubbing the your pussy against his dick fasting and faster .. “yes you can” you cupped his face into ur hand giving him a sloppy kiss, “you can .. say it for my baby .. i wanna hear you voice —you know i love it .”

he chased after your lips after you pulled around before looking at u with a pleading face once again .. “boobies .. can i suck them please mommy—aah~ please—“

you smiled and nodded, your head fell to his shoulder as he lashed onto your boob, sucking it gently but hungrily though filled your head of the times you were home and dae-ho would randomly ask to suck them .

you’d never decline his offer .. he even came up with scenarios of WHEN he’d get you pregnant and ur breast would be full of milk for the baby and HIM .

you giggled to yourself at the memory forgetting you both were in this huge room trapped .. “thinking about impregnating me hm ?” you hummed to him as you fed your boob to him, “aren’t you .. thinking about me being all round with full breast leaking with milk ?”

he nodded rapidly as your hand moved to the back of his head pushing his face into ur breasts .. just as his other hand came and pulled at ur untouched breast .

you moaned a little loud as you bit onto his shoulder holding yourself together as you started to grind faster then before .. the feeling of a knot came and felt as if you every were going to explode..

rubbing faster and faster as dae-ho pulled away from ur chest and held onto ur waist helping you move, “gonna cummmm~ gon-aagh~ gonna c-cummm baby—please .”

he pressed his lips against yourself, giving you another sloppy kiss as you both moaned and whimpered into each others mouths, “can-can i cum inside~ mm~ please wanna make u a mommy—want you to make me daddy—angel pleaseee- i cant take it anymore ahh~”

you nodded as you quickly pushed his dick into ur cunt .. “yes yess~ ahh~ wanna make you a daddy—i want itt now pleasee~~!”

you both moaned outt as you started bouncing and he thrusted upwards to let his dick meet your cunt halfway, the sounds of sloppy wet skin slapping grew loud, your ass slapping against his thigh, the sweat against both of your bodies increasing heavily .

“cum with me princess .. please—gonna make you a mommy i promise—gonna fill you up .”

you moaned out a yes, nodding and quickened your bounces, “yes yes yesss!! we’re going to be—a mommy and daddyyy~ ahh~ im cummingg—ohhh dae-hooo..pleaseee!”

hearing you moan out his name, he snapped as his load poured into you .. lots of white substance flowing deep into your cunt .. as your eyes rolled at the feeling you kissing his lips and released yourself as your cum combined with his farming a lake deep inside of your cunt.. your head fell onto his shoulder as he babbled .

“loveeeee—loveyouusomuch ‘mmm~” you nodded at his words, opening ur mouth so reply but moans and whines just fell out .

“soo warmmm.. ahh-soo fff-fucking tight still.” he moaned as you continued to bounce teaching both of your highs, your pussy tighten around him.. it felt like a glove—a glove that was made just to fit dae-ho .

just as you were about to get up, he pulled you back down .. “no.nononooo—cant leave this warm tight cuntt—i love itt— i love youuu—[name] i love you so much ..” he whined “just keep it in okay—iloveyouuu~”

you were panting.. “i-iloveyoumore—i dooo ahh~” you moaned out in a rush just as he started to roll his hips inside of you as your eyes rolled back—having him inside of you felt like heaven on earth and he couldn’t agree more .

“cant keep still—fuckkinggg hell.. this cunt was made for me—righttt princesss~~?” he whimpered to you as u noddeddd, “yesss yesss~ a million times yess baby—“ you couldnt hold back ur moans anymore just as your pussy tighten against him and again ..

“fuckkkkk—fuck!”

your lips fell onto his as you gave him a clean passionate kiss full of love as you felt yourself releasing your juices once again — “cumm—cumming baby..im cuming againnn~”

“me too—cmonnn, cum with me” he holding you in his lap just as your body started to shake, he bites the side of your neck gently to hold in his moans as u held on his shoulders bouncing more and more .

“pleasee—dae-ho cum inside me.. we-we’ll finally have a family—once we get out of this.. me .. you and our baby” you whined into his ear as you placed his hand on ur womb feeling himself go deeper inside of you after every bounce .. “babies—our babies [name]..”

you nodded as your bounces got sloppier, you were closer then before .

tighten your pussy around his cock u babbled to him and he babbled back repeating praise to one and another .

he whimpered and moaned as he held onto tightly as he was closer and closer as usual bouncing getting both of you off .. “shhh—shh .. i got you baby —ah-just hold onto mm~ .. me” you spoke with moans and pants ..

a moment of silence moans as you both reach the climax and the feeling over but of substances mixing with the old cum building up deep deep in your womb now—the panting of you both fill the room .

“sooo good angel.. fuckk soooo damn good.” he spoke while panting, lifting ur head up to rest his forehead against yours .. “mm~~ feels so warmm dae-ho” you yawned to him ..

eyes trying hard to blink away the sleepiness .. “i knowww .. gotta keep it like this—so we can have our babies okay ?”

you noddedd humming small “yes.. yess i know” lowly as your eyes closed .

“[name], cmonn baby—“ you whined as he changed position with you .. staying inside but slowly moving your back to touch the mattress as he lay on top of you .

“stayy—stay ahh-mm~please” dae-ho thrust into you a couple of times before resting his head on side of yours , “i ammm i amm~ fuckk—im sorry—couldnt help myself—you feel so warm..”

you chuckled to yourself and kissed his cheek just as your eyes closed again—“i love you dae-ho.. i love you so much more then you know it—i love you and our now unborn child” dae-ho was smiling ear to ear as he placed his hand over your belly and you placed your on top of his .

“i love you and our unborn child more—i promise we’ll make it out of here ..” you smiled at him and kissed his cheek then lips .

sloppy wet kissing between the two of you was passionate and pleasing .. right before the sleepiness took over the both of you—dae-ho threw the blank over your guys and kissed your forehead as you were now sleeping and planted his head in your neck and fell asleep as well .

.. SHORTLY AFTER THE LIGHTS WERE BACK ON IN THE ROOM — AS THE GROUP GOT UP THEY TURN TO SEE YOU GUYS STILL ASLEEP.. “dont even wake them—they were at it all night.” gi-hun stated rolling his neck with a sigh and walked ahead of the group .

—

ANY MISTAKES LET ME KNO PLEASEEE !

TAGLIST -

@xocherishxo @bxrbie1 @gxdghy @blxckdesire @laitifly @lousycakes

I ADVISE JOINING THE TAGLIST TO SEE THE FANFIC ASAP .

—

i wouldnt mind doing a part2 with reader being pregnant.. pregnancy sex???? whatcha think !

DOING REQUESTING AFTER POSTING THIS SO GO AHEAD AND REQUEST !!

[simp4mina]

Mina as Your Girlfriend

Content Warning: none, just straight up fluff hehe Pairing: mina x fem!reader

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

If there was an award for being the most gentle, soft, kind, and caring person, it would go to Mina. She has such a big heart with so much love to give, and she would do absolutely anything and everything to make sure you know just how much she loves and adores you.

She’s the type to make you breakfast in bed, cancel all her plans for the day to stay home and take care of you if you’re sick, and run to buy your favorite snacks whenever you’re craving them (just because she wants to).

I think her main love languages are words of affirmation and gift giving. Although, I think she loves receiving words of affirmation over gifts from her partner in return.

You reassuring her how much you love and appreciate all she does for you makes her heart melt every time (she’s giggling and kicking her feet fr).

I’m so positive that Mina loves quality time a lot too! She loves spending time with you whenever she gets the chance, whether you both are cuddled up on the couch watching movies in comfortable silence, sitting at the dinner table building a new Lego set she just bought, or taking a nice stroll through the park hand-in-hand as you mindlessly talk about whatever your hearts desire.

Whenever you’re feeling anxious and can’t seem to fall asleep, she’ll cuddle you and hold you close to her chest while she sings to you.

She’ll stroke your hair and trace mindless patterns on your back, reassuring you that you have her no matter what and that she’s always there to listen when you need her.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. I’m not going anywhere, my love. Just breathe baby. You’re doing so good.”

Mina loves playing video games, and is really good at them. She’ll often beg you to play with her just so she could beat you and make fun of you after (in a silly way, of course).

Arcade dates? Say less. You’ll both be there for hours.

Dinner at a fancy restaurant? Oh, you know she’ll spoil you by letting you choose whatever you want to eat while she pays for it.

“The food here all looks so delicious, but it’s so expensive baby~” you whine.

“So? Whatever my princess wants, that’s what she gets. Choose what you want baby, it’s on me.” Mina says with a loving smile as she brings your hand up to her lips.

When you both are tossing and turning and just can’t seem to sleep, Mina would all of a sudden turn to you with a mischievous grin and say, “do you wanna bake some cookies?”

You just chuckle softly and roll your eyes playfully. “You just love baking at the oddest hours don’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t love it either.” Mina rolls her eyes playfully and scoffs as she takes your hand and pulls you out of bed.

Most late nights (or early mornings I should say) end like that anyway..with you and Mina baking in the kitchen, singing and dancing to your favorite songs and smearing frosting on each other’s faces just to be silly.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

A/N: AHH this is my first fic i hope y'all like it!! 🥺 it's a bit short and i didn’t really proofread it lol but i still hope it’s good. enjoy my loves! <3

[volturissideslut]

Hiii I'm back again lol! I was wondering if you could make one about your favorite vampire in the twilight saga. Your choice of the plot and all that cool stuff! Much love🫶

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

I think it's been made abundantly clear that I'm a Marcus girly and lately i've been thinking about reintroducing him to physical touch after he's been alone so long...

He's not used to it, having been alone for so long, it takes him some getting used to. He won't initiate in the beginning but once he feels it's normal good luck getting his hand on you because he didn't realise just how much he needed physical touch.

It starts off gentle, with little kisses here and there with your hand brushing against his, and it sends this tingly feeling all up his arm.

Then it progresses to him laying with you when you ask, fingers dancing over each others skin. Marcus begins to crave it, and finds ways to initiate without being the one to actually initiate.

He'll ask if your tired and need to lay down, only to join you when you do, but once when he was sitting and reading a book you juat plopped yourself on his lap and nuzzled your head into his neck.

Game over.

Now he needs to be touching you at every opportunity, hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you close, nose nuzzling his face into you, legs thrown together, face being peppered with kisses

you got him started and now he just can't stop

He'll beckon you to him with a little "my tesoro" and lie you over him

He wants you to use him like he's your personal weighted blanket.

It doest have to even be romantic, just touch him please, even if it's just poking and prodding at his face

And don't even get me started on when your introduce him to head- yk what im gonna write that. Part 2 soon. I don't know when but soon

[treviso-nights]

the significance of rook as a protagonist who is 'unable to be evil' is because the inquisitor can be. and hawke. and the warden, for that matter. in dai there are companion disapproval cutscenes for a reason: you have either fucked up so badly or killed so many people that they literally stage an intervention for you. rook, by contrast, is a tremendously appropriate protagonist for veilguard—not just because they’re handpicked by varric but because they are good. like their goodness is the point. it is the story.

and i get why some players would be upset by that and feel constrained by the moral paradigm the narrative inherently embodies. players like options. however, rook's goodness (in whatever capacity) does not necessitate that they're a bad/flat protagonist considering they have unique backstories which tells us about the quality and the context of that goodness. in my opinion, it's a natural byproduct of the overarching story of the dragon age games: yet another person thrust into a role and political position they did not ask for but must pursue for the greater purpose of all.

the thing about veilguard though is that no possible protagonist could be as bad or as evil as the evanuris (and by extension, the chaos ripping the veil down would do at this point in time), so to play as an evil!rook feels counterintuitive to the point of the game regardless.

if we WERE to get the option to play an evil!rook who, for example, supports the evanuris and blights the world alongside them, it just means there's no more world to play in. dragon age is over.

furthermore, there's no option to help solas bring the veil down because it is an evil option. it's not a dev mistake that rook doesn't get the opportunity to side with our favorite war criminal. to most thedosians, the end of the veil means the end of their life. solas is one of the most unreliable narrators in the series, so the idea that he has harm reduction measures in place is unmeasurable because he is a proven trickster. those who'd take the chance anyway would still be considered evil by all who are affected in the wake of it.

—and i agree that it would be fun! but it's not veilguard's story because the stakes are higher than they have ever been in previous games, and thedas needs someone else to save it once again.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Thanks for the tag!! 💖

Last song: Crack Metal by Health, I had their entire Rat Wars album on shuffle in my car and it was the last song that played as I got home, coincidentally probably my favorite song off the album lmao

Fav color: pinks, blues, and purples‼️

Last book: currently reading one called An Age Without Samples (Originality and Creativity in the Digital World) by Ikutaro Kakehashi bc I saw it for less than a dollar at a library book sale and grabbed it on a whim, last book I actually finished was The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde after I found it on the side of the road (I think it was with stuff someone left out on the curb) and I'd highly recommend it! I enjoyed it a lot

Last movie: not a huge movie person but probably Perfect Blue bc it's easily one of my favorite movies of all time

Last tv show: Arcane! Watching it with some friends :)

Sweet/savory/spicy: probably savory overall, starting to toss sweet things into savory mixes to see what they do, put peaches in with my sweet and sour pork and I think I should do things like that more actually

Last thing I searched online: how to lower blood sugar bc I'm trying to nip some medical stuff in the bud before anything has a chance to become a real problem 👀

Current obsession(s): I've been thinking about how I don't know what kind of person I would be if I hadn't gotten into ultrakill, I am so Normal about the robots in dante's inferno hell game and you can tell from my two (2) gimmick blogs where I draw robots every week, I. love them

Looking forward to: paying off my credit cards this year! Also picking up my bass and messing around with it more, drawing more and sweeping when artfight starts up again, really I wanna be more involved with art as a whole and so far I've been committing to that and it feels pretty good 💖

No tags to offer on this one but I thank you kindly 🙌💕

10 People I'd Like to Know Better

Thanks for the tags @gaiaseyes451 and @beerok23!💜!💜

last song: Gloria by the Lumineers

favourite colour: Red, like a deep luscious red that you know would taste good if you licked it. Don't act innocent, you know exactly what I mean by that. Red is a color that you just know tastes good.

last book: I am currently trying to read the Witcher series (per @lickthecowhappy's suggestion) so I am at the start of the Last Wish

last movie: Moana 2 (I have young kidsssss)

last TV show: My oldest is almost 10 which means she stays up late. Which also means I have so little time to watch adult things. So we've been watching the Office with her. I think I want to watch the Good Place with her next tho (I've never watched it!)

sweet/spicy/savoury: Sweet followed very, very closely by spicy. Habanero maple syrup is one of my favorite things on the planet.

last thing i searched online: How to explain a 10 year career hiatus in a cover letter (looking to return to work since having kids. It's been an interesting experience so far).

current obsession: Have not moved on from Good Omens, but recently realized that my obsession may be more in my own little connected universe of fics that I wrote rather than the actual canon at this point😳. I'm sure once we get that first glimpse of red and white hair that will change very quickly.

looking forward to: Going back to work and having a more established adult life again, honestly. I've been so lucky to be home with my kids while they are young, but I am ready. And figuring out how my newfound passion for writing is going to fit into that new life of mine. Another big year of change over here for me, and I am eagerly looking forward to how the growing pains are going to make way for something beautiful beyond.

ten people i’d like to know better:

@addledmongoose, @di-42, @afrenchwriter, @haemey, @eybefioro, @alwaystuesday, @katspause, @alphacentaurinebula, @shadesofecclescakes, @ochre-sunflower and whoever wants to do it (but also feel free to ignore!)

[amethystarachnid]

Hey there! Can I request for Marvel Bingo “marriage of convenience” for Steve Rogers and female reader.

I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests, I just want to share what I have in mind, it’s up to you if you want to consider it.

So, Steve and reader both belong to influential families and Steve picked reader over her elder sister (Sharon/Peggy) to marry. They’ve known each other since childhood and Steve has been secretly in love with her but he doesn’t show and doesn’t even know if she likes him. So he gets married to her to protect her from her family. His love language is taking care of her… like a slow burn, a build up towards a passionate and beautiful confession of their feelings. If you wana make it spicy, that’ll be cherry on top.

MARRIAGE

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.3k

ᯓ★ TW(s): some little spicy scenes (2)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The polished mahogany table between you gleams under the dim light of the private study. You sit with your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you try to keep your expression neutral. Across from you, Steve Rogers leans forward, his broad shoulders casting long shadows across the room. His blue eyes—soft, concerned, and endlessly patient—are fixed on you, but you avoid them, focusing instead on the crest embroidered into the sleeve of his finely tailored jacket.

The Rogers family crest.

The room is too warm, the air heavy with the scent of aged leather and wood polish. You’ve been in this study a hundred times before. It’s where your father and his friends would discuss business deals that shaped entire industries, where your sister Sharon would charm visiting dignitaries with her effortless wit and poise. You, on the other hand, always felt out of place here, like a child wearing shoes too big to fill.

But tonight, you are here for something far more personal.

“I won’t pretend this is how I imagined things going,” Steve begins, his voice steady but tinged with something unnameable—regret, maybe, or resignation. “But it’s clear to me that... things can’t continue as they are.”

Your breath catches, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something foolish. Of course, he doesn’t mean you specifically. He’s talking about your family, your situation. You know Steve well enough to recognize when he’s treading carefully, picking his words with the precision of a man dismantling a bomb.

“I know your father,” he continues, his jaw tightening briefly, “and I know what kind of man he is. The kind of... expectations he has for you and Sharon.”

You flinch at the mention of her name, your elder sister, the golden child of your family. Sharon was meant to marry Steve, not you. Everyone knew it; the whispers at gala events, the approving nods from their respective parents, the way Sharon carried herself around him like a queen certain of her crown.

And yet, it was you Steve had chosen.

The memory of that announcement still makes your heart race, even now, months later. It had been surreal, watching your father’s barely concealed fury, Sharon’s stunned disbelief. You hadn’t been able to look at Steve that night, terrified your face would betray the feelings you’ve kept locked away for years.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself back to the present. “Steve, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the intensity of his gaze makes it impossible to breathe. “You don’t deserve what they’ve done to you. What they’re still doing to you.”

The words hang in the air between you, raw and unvarnished.

“I want to help,” he says softly.

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice. He means it. He always means what he says—one of the many reasons you’ve loved him since you were too young to understand what love even was. But you can’t let him see that now, not when everything is so precariously balanced.

“Marriage,” you murmur, testing the word as if it might shatter on your tongue. “You think that’s the answer?”

“I think it’s the best chance you’ll have to get out from under your father’s thumb,” Steve replies without hesitation. “And it’ll keep you safe.”

Safe. The word feels foreign, almost mythical, like something out of a bedtime story.

“And you?” you ask, folding your hands tighter to steady them. “What do you get out of this, Steve?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer, his expression unreadable. Then he leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly.

“Peace of mind,” he says finally. “Knowing you’re not being hurt anymore. Knowing you’re not... alone in that house.”

Your throat tightens, and you swallow hard to keep the emotion at bay. You can’t let him see how much his words affect you, how desperately you want to believe in the future he’s offering.

“And what about Sharon?” you ask quietly.

Steve’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away, his gaze settling somewhere over your shoulder. “She’ll be fine,” he says after a moment. “She doesn’t... need me the way you do.”

The words hit you like a lightning strike, and you’re sure he can hear the hitch in your breath, even though you try to hide it.

You force yourself to nod, your mind racing. If you agree to this, you’ll be tying yourself to Steve in ways you’ve only dreamed about—and yet, it won’t be real. Not for him.

But then again, isn’t that better than nothing?

“Alright,” you say softly, the word barely audible.

Steve’s gaze snaps back to you, his brows knitting together in surprise. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“I’m sure,” you say, more firmly this time. “If it’ll... help, then I’ll do it.”

He studies you for a long moment, and you wonder if he can see through the careful mask you’re wearing. If he knows how much of this decision is driven not by logic, but by the love you’ve kept hidden from him for so long.

Finally, he nods, a small, relieved smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright,” he says. “Then we’ll make it work. Together.”

Together.

The word echoes in your mind, a promise and a torment all at once.

And as Steve begins outlining the next steps, his voice steady and reassuring, you can’t help but wonder how long you’ll be able to keep your feelings buried now that the future you’ve always wanted is so tantalizingly close—and yet, still out of reach.

The weeks pass in a blur of arrangements. You’d never thought a wedding—your wedding—would be so impersonal, a series of carefully orchestrated events where your opinion seems to matter the least. Your family dominates every decision, from the floral arrangements to the guest list, while Steve listens patiently, occasionally intervening with quiet authority when the plans grow too elaborate or stray too far from practicality.

“We don’t need a five-tiered cake,” he says during one such discussion, his tone calm but firm. He sits beside you at the long dining table, his fingers grazing yours briefly under the polished surface. “Something simpler will do just fine.”

Your mother sniffs delicately, clearly displeased. “Simpler isn’t what people expect from a union like this, Steve,” she says, as if this is the most pressing concern. She doesn’t even glance at you when she says it, her sharp gaze fixed on Steve as if she can convince him to reconsider with sheer willpower.

He doesn’t flinch. “They’ll have to manage their expectations,” he replies smoothly, leaning back in his chair.

You catch yourself staring at him, your heart swelling with a quiet gratitude you don’t know how to express. Moments like this, small but significant, remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place. Steve Rogers has always been unshakable, a solid presence in the chaos of your life.

Still, your mother isn’t the type to back down easily.

“I just think,” she says, her voice laced with sugar-coated venom, “that Sharon would have been better suited to manage the kind of attention this marriage will bring. She’s always been... more poised under pressure.”

The words are a knife, slipping between your ribs before you even realize it. You glance down at your hands, your fingernails biting into your palms. This isn’t the first time she’s made such a comment, and it won’t be the last.

“Y/N is perfectly capable of handling herself,” Steve says, his voice cold enough to frost the edges of the room. “And if anyone has an issue with her, they’ll have to take it up with me.”

The silence that follows is heavy, your mother pursing her lips in annoyance but wisely deciding not to push further. You feel Steve’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes fixed on the tablecloth, unwilling to let him see the cracks forming in your carefully constructed composure.

Later that evening, when the guests have gone and the house has fallen silent, you find yourself standing by the window of the guest room Steve insisted you use whenever you stayed over. The city lights shimmer in the distance, blurred by the tears you refuse to let fall.

You don’t hear him enter, but you feel his presence before he speaks.

“Y/N?” His voice is gentle, almost hesitant.

You wipe at your eyes quickly and turn to face him, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

He doesn’t buy the act for a second. He never does.

“They shouldn’t have said those things,” he says quietly, his expression shadowed with anger and something deeper, something protective.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” you say, trying to brush it off. But the tremor in your voice betrays you, and Steve’s jaw tightens.

“It’s not nothing,” he says, stepping closer. His hand hovers near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the distance. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that, not from them or anyone else.”

You want to argue, to tell him that it’s fine, that you’re used to it—but the words catch in your throat, strangled by the weight of years spent trying to live up to impossible expectations.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you whisper instead, your voice barely audible. “How you always seem so... steady, even when everything’s falling apart.”

His lips curve into a faint smile, but there’s no humor in it. “I’m not as steady as you think,” he says. “But when it comes to you...” He trails off, his gaze softening. “I just want to make things easier for you, Y/N. Even if it’s just a little.”

The vulnerability in his voice undoes you. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out and take his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in a way nothing else can.

“Thank you,” you say, the words simple but heavy with meaning.

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to stay like this forever, to let go of all the fear and doubt and simply trust in the man standing before you.

The moment doesn’t last.

The wedding approaches faster than you anticipate, each day bringing new challenges and fresh reminders of your family’s disapproval. Sharon, in particular, takes every opportunity to remind you of what she sees as your inadequacy, her words barbed and cutting.

“You should really work on your posture,” she says one afternoon as you stand for yet another fitting. “You’ll be photographed from every angle, and we wouldn’t want people to think you’re uncomfortable in your own skin.”

You grit your teeth and force a polite smile, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Steve, however, is less inclined to stay silent. “I think she looks perfect,” he says from where he’s leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes Sharon’s smile falter.

“Of course,” Sharon says smoothly, recovering quickly. “I’m just offering some advice. You know how the press can be.”

Steve doesn’t respond, his gaze shifting to you instead. “Ready to go?” he asks, his expression softening.

You nod, grateful for the excuse to escape.

In the car, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, the quiet hum of the engine a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the day. Steve drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console.

“You okay?” he asks after a while, his voice low.

“I’m fine,” you say automatically.

He glances at you, his blue eyes full of quiet concern. “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you know.”

The words hit you harder than they should, and before you can stop yourself, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over.

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road without hesitation, cutting the engine. He turns to you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you’re afraid he might say something that will break you completely.

Instead, he reaches out and takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Y/N,” he says softly, “you’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for. But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

His words unravel something deep inside you, and you let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything finally catching up to you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, ashamed of your tears.

“Don’t be,” he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much to bear, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

The wedding day arrives sooner than you expect, the morning a whirlwind of activity and last-minute preparations. Your family is on their best behavior, their smiles polished and their words carefully measured. But you can feel the tension simmering beneath the surface, a reminder of all the unspoken grievances and unmet expectations that have defined your relationship with them.

Steve, however, is a calming presence throughout it all. He stays by your side whenever he can, his quiet strength a constant source of reassurance.

When you finally stand at the altar, his hands holding yours, the world seems to fade away.

“You ready?” he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yeah,” you say, your voice steady.

And for the first time in years, you feel like you might actually mean it.

The moment the car pulls up to Steve’s penthouse, your breath catches in your throat. It’s not that you didn’t know it would be beautiful—everything about the Rogers family speaks of understated elegance and wealth—but seeing it in person is something else entirely.

The building is sleek and modern, towering over the city with floor-to-ceiling windows that glint in the afternoon sun. The lobby is quiet and luxurious, with polished marble floors and discreet staff who greet Steve with quiet deference as you walk through.

The elevator ride to the top floor feels endless, even though you know it’s only a matter of seconds. Steve stands beside you, his hands in his pockets, his expression calm and unreadable.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says softly, glancing at you.

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, gripping your clutch like it might save you from drowning.

He doesn’t call you out on it, just offers a small smile as the elevator doors slide open.

The penthouse is breathtaking.

The first thing you notice is the light. Floor-to-ceiling windows span almost the entire space, offering an uninterrupted view of the city skyline. The open-concept design is modern but warm, with sleek furniture in neutral tones and touches of warmth in the form of rich wood accents and soft throws draped over the sofas.

But what strikes you most is how... lived-in it feels. There are signs of Steve everywhere: books stacked neatly on a low table, a well-used leather armchair in one corner, and a collection of vintage records on a shelf near the fireplace.

“You don’t have to unpack everything today,” Steve says as you step inside, his voice cutting through your awe. “Take your time.”

You turn to him, unsure of what to say. “It’s beautiful,” you manage.

He smiles, a little sheepish. “Thanks. I had it redone a few years ago. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s home.”

Home. The word feels strange on your tongue, foreign in a way that makes your chest ache.

Steve seems to sense your hesitation. “Come on,” he says gently, nodding toward a hallway. “I’ll show you to your room.”

You follow him, your heels clicking softly against the polished floors. The hallway leads to a series of doors, and Steve stops in front of one near the end.

“This is yours,” he says, pushing the door open.

The room is spacious and bright, with soft, neutral tones and a large bed that looks like it belongs in a luxury hotel. A vase of fresh flowers sits on the nightstand, their fragrance subtle but soothing.

“It’s perfect,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m glad you like it.” He hesitates, then nods toward the door across the hall. “That’s my room. I figured you’d want your own space.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh. I... thank you.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly awkward. “I meant what I said before,” he says. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Y/N. This arrangement... it’s about giving you a chance to breathe, not making you feel trapped.”

The sincerity in his voice is overwhelming, and for a moment, all you can do is nod.

That night, as you lie in the unfamiliar comfort of your new bed, you think about his words. About how, for the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel like you can finally exhale.

The first few weeks of married life are surreal.

Steve is considerate to a fault, never overstepping boundaries or making you feel uncomfortable. He leaves early for work most mornings, though he always makes sure there’s coffee brewing and a note on the counter with a simple message—Take your time today or Call if you need anything.

You spend your days exploring the penthouse, slowly making the space your own. Steve encourages it, even going out of his way to pick up little things he thinks you might like—a throw pillow in your favorite color, a set of candles that smell like lavender.

At night, the two of you settle into a routine of quiet companionship. Sometimes you watch movies together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with a bowl of popcorn between you. Other times, you talk about nothing and everything—his work, your favorite books, the quirks of city life.

It’s easy, in a way you never expected.

But the outside world is harder to ignore.

The first time the two of you go out together as a married couple, the paparazzi are relentless.

You’re having dinner at a quiet restaurant Steve picked specifically for its privacy, but as soon as you step outside, cameras flash like fireworks, and voices shout questions you’re too overwhelmed to process.

“Steve! Over here!” “Y/N, how does it feel to marry into the Rogers family?” “Any truth to the rumors that Sharon was the first choice?”

The last question hits you like a slap, and you flinch despite yourself. Steve notices immediately, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back as he steers you toward the waiting car.

“Don’t listen to them,” he says quietly as the driver pulls away from the curb.

“It’s hard not to,” you admit, staring down at your hands.

He doesn’t respond right away, but when you glance up, you find him watching you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation,” he says finally. “Least of all them.”

His words linger in your mind long after you return home, and you find yourself replaying them whenever the gossip columns grow particularly vicious.

It’s not all bad, though. There are moments of levity that catch you off guard, moments when Steve’s dry humor or unexpected playfulness makes you laugh so hard you forget the world outside entirely.

Like the time you catch him trying to teach himself how to cook.

“Steve,” you say, barely holding back a laugh as you step into the kitchen and find him staring intently at a cookbook, his apron already dusted with flour. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make pancakes,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“At eight o’clock at night?”

“Breakfast for dinner is underrated,” he says with a grin.

The pancakes are terrible—burnt on the outside, raw on the inside—but you eat them anyway, laughing together at the absurdity of it all.

Moments like these, small and unexpected, are what make you realize how dangerous this arrangement is becoming.

Because the more time you spend with Steve, the harder it is to ignore the feelings you’ve spent years trying to bury.

It happens gradually, the way you and Steve grow closer.

He starts leaving his door open at night, and sometimes you find yourself lingering in the hallway, talking until your voices grow soft and drowsy. Other times, he joins you on the couch, sitting closer than usual as the two of you share a blanket and argue over what to watch.

The tension between you is subtle but undeniable, a quiet hum that grows louder with each passing day.

One night, after a particularly long dinner with your family—where your mother spent most of the evening hinting that it wasn’t too late for Steve to change his mind—you come home feeling like you might shatter.

Steve finds you sitting on the floor of the living room, your knees pulled to your chest as you stare out the window.

“They’re not worth this,” he says softly, sitting down beside you.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

He doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. The warmth of his embrace is comforting, and for the first time that night, you feel like you can breathe.

“You deserve better,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

You don’t respond, but the way you lean into him says more than words ever could.

The months slip by, and the world outside continues to watch, speculate, and gossip. But inside the walls of the penthouse, you and Steve carve out a life that feels uniquely yours.

It’s not perfect—there are moments of doubt and miscommunication, times when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under. But there are also moments of joy and connection, moments that remind you why you agreed to this in the first place.

And as you sit together one night, sharing a quiet meal and laughing over something inconsequential, you realize that somewhere along the way, this marriage stopped feeling like an arrangement.

It started feeling like home.

The nights blur together in a haze of quiet companionship. You and Steve continue to drift closer, though neither of you acknowledges it outright. It’s in the little things: the way he pours your coffee just the way you like it without asking, the way you find yourself lingering in the kitchen just to hear him hum softly while he cooks.

And then there’s the night everything changes.

It starts innocently enough. You’re sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs as you both watch a late-night movie. Steve looks as relaxed as you’ve ever seen him, his long legs stretched out on the ottoman, his arm resting along the back of the couch.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” he teases when your head droops for the third time.

“I’m not,” you mumble, though the weight of your eyelids betrays you.

He chuckles softly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You barely manage to shuffle down the hallway, exhaustion tugging at your every step. When you finally collapse onto the edge of your bed, you don’t even bother to change out of your clothes, too tired to care.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Steve says from the doorway, but you’re already slipping into unconsciousness.

When you wake up hours later, it takes you a moment to realize what’s different. The room is dark, but the steady warmth beside you is unmistakable.

You turn your head, your breath catching as you see Steve sprawled on his back, one arm draped over his face. He must have come to check on you and fallen asleep without meaning to.

For a moment, you think about waking him, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the way his face looks so peaceful in sleep, or maybe it’s the comfort of his presence. Whatever the reason, you close your eyes again, letting the soft rhythm of his breathing lull you back to sleep.

The next morning, you expect things to feel awkward, but Steve acts as if nothing unusual happened. If anything, he seems more relaxed, his smile a little softer, his touches lingering just a fraction longer.

That night, as you stand in the doorway of your room, you hesitate.

“Steve?” you call, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up from his place on the couch, his book resting in his lap. “Yeah?”

“Would you—” You hesitate, your cheeks flushing. “Would you mind sleeping here again? I just... I slept better with you there.”

You half expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes his book and sets it aside, his expression unreadable.

“Of course,” he says simply.

The warmth that spreads through your chest is almost overwhelming.

That night, you fall asleep with the quiet reassurance of his presence beside you, and when you wake up to find his arm draped lightly over your waist, you don’t move.

The next few weeks are a delicate balancing act. You and Steve don’t talk about the nights you spend together, but they quickly become a routine. He starts reading in your room before bed, and you find yourself looking forward to the quiet moments before sleep when you can hear the low timbre of his voice as he reads aloud.

But the outside world isn’t as accommodating.

It begins at a family dinner, one of the infrequent but mandatory gatherings your mother insists on hosting. The Rogers family is there, Steve’s parents a picture of poise and sophistication. Your own family is on their best behavior at first, their voices sugary sweet as they discuss inconsequential topics.

But then the conversation shifts.

“So,” your mother says, fixing you with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “How are you settling in? Married life seems to agree with you.”

“It does,” you say, keeping your tone polite.

“It must be so exciting,” Sharon interjects, her voice dripping with feigned enthusiasm. “Starting a life together, building a future...” She pauses, her eyes gleaming. “Planning for children.”

Your fork stills on your plate, but before you can respond, your mother jumps in.

“Yes, children are so important, aren’t they?” she says, looking pointedly at you. “I’m sure you’ll want to start soon, won’t you? After all, a family name like Rogers needs an heir.”

Your stomach churns, but you force a smile. “We’re taking things one step at a time,” you say evenly.

“Oh, but don’t wait too long,” your mother continues, ignoring your words entirely. “Sharon always said she wanted at least three. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Sharon smiles sweetly. “Of course. I’d already have one by now if I were in Y/N’s position.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a pointed reminder of everything they think you’re failing to be.

Steve’s fork clinks against his plate, and when you glance at him, his expression is stony.

“That’s enough,” he says, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Y/N and I will handle things in our own time. And I’d appreciate it if we could leave it at that.”

Your mother’s smile falters, but she quickly recovers, smoothing her napkin over her lap. “Of course,” she says, her tone saccharine. “We’re just so eager for you two to start a family. It’s such a big responsibility, being part of the Rogers legacy.”

Steve doesn’t respond, his jaw tight. You don’t miss the way his mother raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your family’s behavior.

The rest of the dinner passes in strained silence, and by the time you return home, your nerves are frayed.

“I’m sorry,” you say as soon as the door closes behind you.

Steve frowns, shrugging off his jacket. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For them,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself. “For the way they act, the things they say... It’s not fair to you.”

Steve crosses the room in two strides, his hands coming to rest gently on your shoulders. “Y/N,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to apologize for them. None of this is your fault.”

You nod, though the knot in your chest remains.

He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength that makes your knees weak.

“They don’t get to define you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your hair. “Not them, not anyone. You’re more than enough, Y/N. You always have been.”

The words break something inside you, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.

Steve doesn’t let go, holding you tightly until the tears finally subside. And when you pull back to look at him, the tenderness in his gaze steals the breath from your lungs.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Always,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

That night, as you lie in bed with Steve’s arm draped protectively around you, you feel something shift. The walls you’ve spent years building are starting to crumble, and for once, you’re not afraid.

The nights you share become a solace, a quiet refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Steve is patient, never pushing, always letting you set the pace. And though neither of you says it outright, the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, speaks volumes.

Your family continues to hover on the periphery, their expectations weighing heavy. But with Steve by your side, the weight feels a little easier to bear.

And as the days turn into weeks, you find yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, this could be more than an arrangement.

Maybe it already is.

The penthouse is quiet, save for the soft hum of the city below. You’re curled up on the couch, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees as you type furiously. Working from home has its perks—no dress code, no commute—but today, your focus feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

The ache in your neck reminds you that you’ve been hunched over for hours, so you decide to take a break. Stretching out your legs, you grab your phone from the coffee table and unlock it.

Scrolling aimlessly through your feed, you skim past news articles, memes, and a few updates from friends. And then you see it.

A headline that makes your blood run cold.

“Steve Rogers Spotted Cozying Up to Wife’s Sister: Is Trouble Brewing in Paradise?”

Your thumb hovers over the screen, trembling. Against your better judgment, you click the link.

The article is riddled with speculation, but it’s the photos that steal the breath from your lungs. One shows Steve and Sharon standing close in what looks like a cozy café, their heads tilted toward each other as if sharing an intimate moment. Another shows Sharon touching Steve’s arm, her smile coy.

The accompanying text twists the knife deeper: Sources say the two have been seen together frequently in recent weeks, sparking rumors of a secret affair. Could Sharon have been Steve’s first choice all along?

Your stomach churns. You know it’s ridiculous—you know Steve, the man who has been nothing but kind and devoted to you, would never betray you like this. But the images... the way they seem to tell a story you don’t want to believe... it’s too much.

Tears blur your vision as you toss your phone aside.

The door clicks open a moment later, and you hear Steve’s familiar footsteps in the foyer.

“Y/N?” he calls, his voice warm but tinged with concern. “I’m home.”

You don’t respond, your hands clenched into fists against your lap as you try to hold back the sob building in your throat.

When Steve appears in the living room, his expression shifts instantly. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He’s beside you in an instant, crouching down so he can look up into your tear-streaked face.

You shake your head, but the tears spill over anyway. “I... I saw something,” you choke out.

His brows knit together in worry. “What did you see?”

You reach for your phone with trembling hands, pulling up the article and thrusting it toward him. He takes it from you, his eyes scanning the screen with growing disbelief.

“Y/N,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“How can it not be?” you whisper, your voice breaking. “The photos... they look so—”

“They’re misleading,” he cuts in gently, his hands reaching for yours. “Please, let me explain.”

You look at him, searching his face for any hint of deceit, but all you see is the same Steve you’ve always known—the man who has been your rock through every storm.

“I ran into Sharon a few weeks ago,” he begins. “She approached me. She wanted to talk, to clear the air about everything that happened between us.”

“And you went to a café with her?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Yes,” he admits, his gaze unwavering. “Because I wanted to make it clear that my choice was you, Y/N. It’s alwaysbeen you. She was upset, and I didn’t want there to be any lingering tension. But that’s all it was—just a conversation. Nothing more.”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable, and yet your heart still aches. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he says softly. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning because, to me, it didn’t mean anything. But I see now that I should have been honest with you from the start. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You look down at your hands, your tears falling silently onto your lap. “I felt like such a fool,” you admit.

“You’re not a fool,” he says firmly, his hands tightening around yours. “You’re the smartest, strongest, most incredible woman I’ve ever known. And I would never, never do anything to hurt you.”

The weight of his words sinks into you, and when you finally meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And this marriage—it started as a way to protect you, but somewhere along the way, it became so much more. You’re my everything.”

Your breath hitches, tears spilling over anew. “Steve...”

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I need you to know that my heart is yours. It always has been.”

You shake your head, your hands clutching at his shirt as a sob escapes you. “I do,” you whisper. “I love you too, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long, but I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same.”

A soft, disbelieving laugh escapes him, and his forehead rests against yours. “God, Y/N,” he breathes. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

The air between you shifts, charged with unspoken longing. His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips hover just inches from yours.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

You nod, your heart pounding as his lips finally meet yours.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid to push too far. But the moment your hands slide into his hair, pulling him closer, the restraint breaks.

Steve lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom without breaking the kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you as he lays you gently on the bed.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes,” you whisper, your hands trembling as you reach for him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

What follows is a blur of heat and emotion, the culmination of years of unspoken love and longing. Steve’s hands explore every inch of you, his touch reverent, as if memorizing the very essence of you.

He whispers your name like a prayer, his lips tracing a path along your skin as he worships you with a devotion that leaves you breathless.

And when he finally joins you, the connection is so overwhelming, so all-encompassing, that it feels as if the pieces of your heart are finally falling into place.

Afterward, as you lie tangled together in the sheets, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace you’ve never known before.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice soft but sure.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

And for the first time, you realize that the life you’ve built together isn’t just an arrangement. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted—and so much more.

Things change between you and Steve in ways that are both subtle and monumental. Gone is the polite distance, the carefully maintained boundaries. In its place is something real, something undeniable.

Steve is more affectionate now, his touches lingering longer, his kisses coming more frequently. He pulls you into his lap when you’re watching TV, twirls you around the kitchen while dinner simmers on the stove, and presses his lips to the back of your neck as you work at your laptop.

You, in turn, find yourself doing little things for him—pressing his shirts for work even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, surprising him with homemade cookies when he mentions a craving, sneaking into his office at lunch just to kiss him.

The shift doesn’t go unnoticed, especially at family dinners.

On the next one, held at your parents’ estate, the tension in the air is palpable from the moment you walk in. You and Steve arrive arm in arm, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back. When you lean into him slightly as your mother greets you, Sharon’s eyes narrow.

The evening unfolds as expected: your parents ask loaded questions about your life together, Sharon hovers like a shadow, and the Rogers look vaguely unimpressed by everything.

But something’s different.

You’re not the quiet, uncertain woman who let her family’s jabs and comparisons chip away at her. Not anymore. Steve’s presence beside you, his unwavering support, has given you a strength you didn’t know you had.

When your mother comments on how lovely Sharon looks, her gaze darting toward Steve as if to gauge his reaction, you smile sweetly.

“Yes, Sharon’s always been so polished,” you say, lacing your fingers through Steve’s. “But I think I’ve been glowing lately. Don’t you think, Steve?”

He looks down at you, his eyes warm and amused. “Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “You’re the most beautiful woman in any room.”

Your mother’s smile falters, and Sharon’s fork clatters against her plate. You don’t miss the way her cheeks flush with anger, nor the way she glares at you when she thinks no one’s looking.

Dinner continues in much the same way. Every time Sharon tries to draw Steve’s attention or steer the conversation in her favor, Steve redirects it back to you.

“You must miss being on the dating scene, Steve,” Sharon says at one point, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

“Not at all,” Steve replies easily, his hand resting on your knee under the table. “I’ve got everything I could ever want right here.”

By the time dessert is served, Sharon looks ready to explode. You sip your coffee with a smug smile, enjoying the rare satisfaction of seeing her knocked off her pedestal.

After dinner, your parents pull you and Steve aside.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” your mother suggests, her tone saccharine. “It’s been so long since you spent any real time here. We could all have breakfast together tomorrow.”

Steve hesitates, glancing at you. He’s always careful not to push you into situations you might not want, but tonight, you feel bold.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, surprising even yourself.

Your mother beams, clearly pleased to have you under her thumb for a little longer. Sharon’s jaw tightens, and you can’t help but enjoy the way her evening seems to be going from bad to worse.

Your old bedroom hasn’t changed much. The floral wallpaper, the antique vanity, the plush pink comforter—it’s all a reminder of the girl you used to be.

Steve steps inside, looking almost out of place in the overly feminine space. He closes the door behind him, his eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, his voice low.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m more than okay.”

His hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. “You were amazing tonight,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Did you see Sharon’s face?” you ask, grinning. “She looked like she wanted to scream.”

Steve chuckles, his lips brushing against your temple. “You were enjoying that a little too much.”

“Maybe,” you admit, your grin widening. “But can you blame me?”

He laughs again, his hands sliding up your back. The mood shifts as his laughter fades, replaced by something deeper, something more intense.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to your lips.

The heat in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is slow and deliberate, his hands roaming your body with a reverence that leaves you breathless. When he lifts you onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress, you feel a thrill of anticipation.

You arch against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses a trail down your neck. The sounds you make are uninhibited, each gasp and moan spilling from your lips without thought.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your hands gripping his shoulders. “I want this. I want you.”

Your heart pounds as he takes his time, his touch both gentle and insistent. Every caress, every kiss, every whispered word is a promise, a reminder of the love you share.

When he finally moves within you, the sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. The headboard creaks against the wall, and you can’t help the sounds that escape you—louder, more desperate, as you lose yourself in the moment.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember that Sharon’s room is on the other side of the wall, but instead of holding back, you let the knowledge fuel you.

Steve seems to sense it too, his movements becoming more deliberate, his mouth capturing your cries in heated kisses.

Afterward, as you lie tangled together in the aftermath, your skin slick with sweat and your heart still racing, you can’t help but smile.

“You’re incredible,” Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“So are you,” you reply, turning to kiss him softly.

The satisfaction of the night lingers as you drift off in his arms, the weight of your love for each other wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

The next morning, Sharon avoids you entirely, her lips pressed into a tight line as you join the family for breakfast. You sip your coffee with a serene smile, enjoying the quiet triumph of knowing that for once, she’s the one who’s been bested.

Steve catches your eye across the table, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. You’ve never felt more certain that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Cold and Cuddles

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the heater working overtime against the chill that had settled over Monaco. Winter here wasn’t harsh, but it had a way of sneaking in through the cracks, especially on days like this.

She pushed the door open, shivering as she stepped inside and kicked off her stylish boots. The warmth of the apartment wrapped around her, but it didn’t quite reach her icy hands and feet. Shrugging off her coat, she rubbed her hands together, as if she were a fly, trying to bring some life back into them.

“Max?” she called, her voice soft as she walked further into the apartment.

“In here,” his voice came from the living room.

She rounded the corner and found him sprawled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. A video game she couldn’t quite identify was paused on the screen, and his head turned toward her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, you’re freezing,” he said, noticing the way she hugged herself.

“No kidding,” she muttered, her teeth chattering slightly as she stepped closer. “It’s colder out there than I thought.”

Max set the controller aside and held out his hand. “Come here.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She climbed onto the couch beside him, instantly burrowing into his side. He pulled the blanket over both of them, tucking it securely around her shoulders.

“Your hands are like ice!” he exclaimed as her fingers brushed against his arm.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in her eyes as she pressed her hands to his warm chest.

“Oi! No!” he laughed, squirming slightly but not pushing her away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her tighter, trapping her icy hands between them. “You’re evil.”

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, grinning as she nestled her head against his shoulder.

Max rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “I’m starting to think you only keep me around to warm you up.”

“Not true,” she said, her voice muffled against his sweater. “You’re also good at keeping me entertained.”

“Wow, I’m flattered,” he replied dryly, but the warmth in his voice gave him away.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day melting away as they shared the quiet warmth of each other’s presence. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm beneath her cheek.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his fingers tracing absent patterns on her arm.

“Much,” she murmured, her voice heavy with contentment.

Max pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re not going anywhere now. I’m not risking you turning into an icicle again.”

She laughed softly, her arms slipping around his waist. “Fine by me. This is my favorite part of winter, anyway.”

“What, turning my couch into a glacier?”

“No,” she said, looking up at him with a playful smile. “Cuddling with you”

Max shook his head with a chuckle, but the look in his eyes was impossibly fond. “You’re such a sap.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her grin widening. “But I’m your sap.”

“Damn right you are,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: The pictures are a little unrelated, but that is a cute cat, right?

Also me in winter core:

Anyway, English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <333

[sporeclan]

Hellooooo! I’m working on a clangen blog of my own, so I’m going around asking my favorite clangen blogs some questions. I’m happy to get answers to whichever you feel like answering (or none at all if you don’t feel like it!)

What program and file size do you use?

If you use a font, what font is it?

How far ahead do you recommend playing?

Do you have any advice for layouts?

Do you have any tips for lighting/drawing fur?

Do you have any tips for making cats look more unique?

If you do backgrounds, do you have any advice for creating them?

If you use them, where do you recommend finding reference images?

Hi!! :D

1) I use Clip Studio Paint! Unfortunately not a free program, but I'm very very fond of it. Definitely recommend it to anyone who has the money! My file size is about 1680px wide, I believe? With varying heights. I definitely wouldn't recommend doing it that way, but it's what works for me so :')

2) I made the font myself, actually! Highly recommend doing that tbh, it's a happy medium between getting something handwritten looking without having to spend a thousand years writing haha :D There are probably a hundred websites out there that let you make you own font, but I used Calligraphr

3) It depends! For me playing to about 12-15 moons ahead with a minimum of 6 moons works really well with my style and workflow. Makes me able to cobble together these small interpersonal plotlines while also letting me occasionally play and get new drama to get invested in these characters all over again about. But if I were going for something with a major overarching plot, I would probably go a lot further ahead, if not straight up take the playthrough as far as I'd want it/until a game over just to not risk rng screwing with my plans

4) I would suggest looking up comic panelling tips in general for a better explaination than what I can offer, but I'll try to explain my basic process :'D I mostly go by heart, but I do like to sometimes follow this rule of thumb I like to call the 'Z'

When we read text, we learn to go from left to right, then back to left at a slight diagonal to get to the next line. By following that simple shape when placing characters and especially text, it makes it flow much more naturally to us. And when your pages flow well, you get to break that flow when you want a scene to feel more tense! I tried doing that with the last two panels of the page above and I really liked how that came out :D

Another couple of tips is 1) try not to make the panels too uniform 2) if you want to use two panels for one scene, slanting the side of a panel can make it feel like they flow into each other better, like matching two puzzle pieces if that makes sense 3) small overlapping panels are great for reaction shots and so fun to do!

And lastly, don't be afraid to break the panel border!

It can add a lot of momentum and impact if used right! Plus it's so fun to do <3

5) No sorry, I don't do lighting/shading in my comics at all :'D

6) I have a couple posts here and here describing my own process a bit! But otherwise I'd like to refer to whisper-cats' response to this same prompt, it's pretty in depth and I think they give some really solid advice here!

7) Not particularly, just find a style that works for you the best. I don't do a lot of backgrounding, but when I do, it's in this lineless limited palette style because that's just my favourite kind of background to make

I do highly recommend trying to limit how much time you spend on a background. Don't burn yourself out on one panel because then you'll never wanna finish the whole page!

And for 8), I dont use references so sadly I can't give you any good recommendations there either :')

I hope any of this made sense, lol! Good luck with your blog!

[ceratedfish24]

God I just can’t get Scott and his friendships out of my head, do you have any particularly favorite moments of Scott and someone else? or someone talking abt Scott? (Idc who they’re all so sweet)

Hi Anon!!🩵

Minecraft Build & Seek W/Grian, ImpulseSV, SolidarityGaming & Skizzleman

(They’re assigning themes randomly)

Scott: I’ve got… candyland!

Grian and Impulse: Of course, of course!

I just think it’s so sweet that Grian and Impulse are like “oh that’s so Scott to get the vibrant and sweet theme”💕

Also the ENTIRE segment of Skizz looking for Scott and being obsessed with Scott’s candyland.

“This has got ‘Scott’ written all over it” Skizz associating Scott with sweets and ice cream and bright colors😭🩵

Usually, when Scott makes a really hard escape room or is hiding in an extremely hard place to find, his friends groan and get frustrated and (playfully) yell at him, but Skizz was giggling with Scott the whole time. It was so sweet to see Skizz complimenting Scott and just being happy to hear Scott laugh and Scott trying to tell Skizz that he believes in him and Skizz showering Scott with so much positivity—it just fills me with warmth. Scott with his face audibly in his hands to suppress his giggles as Skizz takes almost 8 minutes to find him never fails to make me laugh.

Meet the Founder of MCC, Scott Major! | Imp And Skizz Podcast (Ep87)

Meet the Founder of MCC, Scott Major! PT2 | Imp And Skizz Podcast (Ep88)

These two are LOADED with Scott, Impulse, and Skizz gushing over the Life Series and getting to know each other that way.

Skizz talking about how he was subconsciously treating Scott like Impulse cause he just liked him so much.

Scott talking about how Skizz doing things that are not the norm for a death game is part of what “makes you wonderful” is SO sweet.

Impulse and Skizz talking about the contrast between how Scott is such a sweetheart but that doesn’t stop him from being so good at the game.

Honestly, some of the escape rooms with Grian in them are really sweet too. Grian just loves having short little games made for him. It’s enrichment for him, and he loves doing really well.

Um, this one is a PULL, but Scott made a Minecraft Death Swap video 5 years ago with Grian, and I just think it’s so wonderful to see the two of them playing together so isolated. It’s nice to see them with other people too, but I feel like we rarely get to see their dynamic by itself.

Sorry this is so late!! It got lost in my drafts :(

[bunni-v1]

Ok so I’ve been watching a bunch of streamers and was thinking about this scenario because my neurodivergent brain is like that:

Lighter with either a crush or s/o who streams. Maybe he meets them through Phaethon or something but he seems to hit it off with them right away. They’re always cordial to him and over time he feels a connection with them too :3

Honestly tho, this can also work for Asaba or, honestly, a lot of characters LOL anyways—

It becomes suspicious to the Sons of Calydon when they see Lighter on his phone at certain times of the day/night just grinning like a schoolboy. And when you stream he seems to be one of the most supportive chatters whether you have a smaller viewer base or larger one. He’s not reckless with his money so he likely won’t be a 3-tier sub or big donator or anything, but if you mention being in a tight spot financially he may send a few dennies here or there with heartfelt messages. Lighter loves showing his way in sturdy, acts of servicey ways after all <3

Another fun but also sad scenario of this with Aventurine, but you confront him when he donates a little too much lmao… you tell him not to buy your friendship or love and that he should’ve just asked for a date instead bc you would’ve said yes lol

Okay pinkie I know this is all about Lighter, but genuinely this is so incredibly Aventurine coded I had to make it all about him. He’s just so very buy your affections coded, and the idea of him with a streamer partner is so incredibly perfect?

Okay indulge me here, but imagine you and Aventurine are just kinda acquaintances. You know him through the network, and you two have this sorta flirty back and forth that isn’t really all that serious, but it’s fun! You stream full time and you’re pretty well known, but you don’t really brag about it all that much. Aventurine knows this obvi but he’s never tuned into your streams because, well, when does he have to time to?

But one night he has some extra free time and he decides to just bite the bullet and look you up. You’ve got a surprisingly big fanbase, and tons and tons of super loyal chatters. It kinda makes him a little jealous, the way you’re so friendly with chat, but he’s no delusional enough to think he’s entitled to your attention in the sea of viewers.

He doesn’t donate anything at first, mostly because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. This is sorta your thing, it would be a bit invasive wouldn’t it? Plus he doesn’t really get spending that much money on a streamer. As much as he likes you, isn’t it a bit parasocial? But one day you’re playing some shitty gatcha game and you just can’t win your favorite character or something and he feels so bad seeing you pout that he has to step in. He’s got plenty of money to give, so he drops $100 for you to spend under the name “TheGoldenTouch”.

You’re so happy, face lights up and you’re thanking him over and over and oh he so loves that look on your face. It becomes his new dirty little secret, spending money on you. He easily becomes one of your top donors and you even reach out to personally thank him, none the wiser that it was him. He’s very competitive about it too, determined to keep the spot as your top donor. Like he’s trying to prove to you that he can provide for you better, even though you don’t know it’s Aventurine behind the screen.

Your other chatters don’t exactly help, teasing you about the flirty new guy who won’t stop sending you money.

It’s not like he’s hiding it on purpose, but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with his sudden interest in spoiling you on stream. Its… a long term investment is all. One that you have no idea is happening! While he’s donating to you he becomes a bit more bold with his flirting irl. He knows you better now, and you technically know him better too. Even though you’re not aware it’s him you’re getting to know so well.

As TheGoldenTouch he can just be himself without worry of you taking pity on him. You’re very sweet to him through chats and messages and all things inbetween. He gets to know you outside of a business sense, and the two of you have very good chemistry. He’s still painfully aware that despite how nice it is, you’ll never really know him. You’ll never get the chance to know him because even if he lets you in like this, how could he do the same in real life? Looking you in the eyes and seeing the care on your face would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Eventually the cat comes out of the bag though. It’s just a slip up when he’s feeling just a little too comfortable in your presence during some kind of meeting. He’s a little too forward and makes an inside joke that has you a little shell shocked before it clicks in your head who he is. He’s rather embarrassed by his slip up, but doesn’t let it show on his face. Taking it in stride and confidence, playing up his generous donor persona rather than the person you’d come to know online.

He figures you’d likely distance yourself now that you knew who he was, but you’re even more interactive with him. Going out of your way to greet him in chat and message him first when you get the chance. It’s so very sweet, but your relationship is nothing but a transaction is it not? You’re making it hard for him to tell…

Ah, but then you try and tell him he doesn’t have to donate so much to you. That you just enjoy seeing and interacting with him. That you wish he had told you who he was initially, because you enjoy talking to him and would like to see him outside of streaming and work. It’s all too much for him to handle from you, you’re just too sweet. How could he refuse you?

He does end up taking you out and spoiling you rotten on your first date together. Even after you are an official item he doesn’t stop watching your streams and chatting with your community. He’s very loyal to you, his favorite little streamer <3

If you insist on him not “buying your affections” he’ll shrug it off. Gift giving is his love language, after all, and he can’t let his competition beat him out in the area he’s best at. It’s a little overwhelming, honestly, but equally sweet and endearing. He’s very proud of you too, bragging about his cute streamer partner to anyone who might listen.

Like,,, he’s so cute,,,,,,

[heleninhha]

TRAPPED IN SHADOWS | PROLOGUE/EN

I'm bout as broken as I confess but better than most that lay cower STFD, por TeZATalks

Romantic partner: Azriel (ACOTAR) Summary: When the Winter Solstice arrives, she knows it will be her worst moment, especially when those memories swallow her up like a bathtub full of ice. Approximate reading time: 10min Words: 1,9k Warnings: Slightly angsty, with a bit of cuteness in between and some signs of possible triggers. NOTE: I just want to protect her in a little pot and tell everyone to fuck off, honestly.

PROLOGUE: Winter Solstice Masterlist | Serieslist | Next chapter

Centuries before…

"You look decent."

"Darling!"

"For someone who runs out of the window all the time, that is some etiquette."

The Illyrian sighed, mentally apologizing as she turned her gaze back to her daughter. It wasn't decent, it was an insult, both to the child and to the maids who had helped her get ready. She was too young to notice the pure contempt dripping from another's lips, but the eyes glistening with trapped tears were enough to understand.

Alayna smiled weakly and bent down to fix the ribbon in the younger girl's hair.

"You look beautiful, my love," she said softly, hearing a discredited laugh at her back. "A real princess."

Leaving the women alone in the large room, the Grand Lord rolled his eyes before deciding to check the updates on the evening's festivities. Five seconds later, the satin curtains were swaying and the inviting breath of winter was hugging the bare calves of the girl.

"You ladies are late."

"Don't be rude. A lady is never late, the others are early."

Rhysand snorted, slightly annoyed.

"Of course, Mom."

The female smiled contentedly and called to her firstborn with her left arm outstretched, her eyes fixed on her daughter and any bad feelings she might be radiating. He obeyed, arranging his elegant silk outfit before kneeling before the youngest. His wings automatically circled the female.

"What's up, Blossom?"

Alayna pinched his hip and received a low whistle.

What have we been talking about?

It's a joke.

"Right, Blossom?" A raised eyebrow made him laugh.

"Okay, I surrender. You look beautiful, Dusk."

"Better," the older female hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. "And you, my dear? Do you think your brother looks handsome too?"

The child nodded, fingers squeezing the dress excitedly. Then she smiled, showing her teeth, and her eyes sparkled as the male messed with her hair, receiving another warning from the older woman.

She liked that, how it made her feel when she was with them. It was nice and cozy, like a fireplace on a snowy day.

"Rhysand!"

The girl laughed happily as she watched her favorite people in the world. When her father wasn't around to push her until she couldn't feel anything but anger and despair, she was always with her mother. When the eldest went to sew, the child gladly followed. When she went to pick fruit in the royal garden, she carried an old wooden basket. If she wanted to put on a pretty dress and make faces at people, she had the maids dress her like a porcelain doll.

It was easy for her to see that she would follow her mother into the darkest abyss. Maybe it was a dark thought for such a young fae, but it was one of the few things she was sure of. Well, that and the fact that her brother was incredibly conceited.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

"That's not why my nerves are on edge…" The older woman bit her lower lip, her gaze distant. "Forget it. I know you'll make it, my dear."

"I'm the son of the Grand Lord of the Night, of course I can… hey, you brat."

Rhysand frowned at his sister, seeing a hard expression. All right, dangerous game; she could have been grinning like an idiot five seconds earlier, but one word to a high ego on the forbidden subject and the room would be in darkness. Or he'd have his ear pulled, as was happening at that moment.

"You're an annoying little thing," he whispered and turned away from the women before his mother cursed him an infinite number of times. "And we're late again."

"Who taught you to be so impertinent?"

"You did."

"Now, you…"

The boy left before his mother could catch him, passing the guards outside his sister's room. He walked with unusual class, nodding briefly to the younger girl's two confidants and whistling. A minute later, female voices embraced his acute hearing, bringing him to a halt just short of the wide, dark wooden doors that would lead him to hell.

Alayna sighed weakly at her son's side, partly out of breath from the short run, but even a blind man would recognize the true meaning of the oppressive sound. A contemptuous smile, shoulders straight and eyes ablaze, was all she could offer these poor people lost in a fog of lust and false hope.

"I want you to stay close to me," she said, taking Rhysand's hand in a gentle squeeze. "And don't even think of running away."

The girl cringed at the comment, though she felt it wasn't as contemptuous as her father's.

"I'm serious, my dear. You have my support whenever you want to spread your wings, but tonight... not tonight, okay?"

With a bang, the doors to the throne room were thrown open, and faes of all kinds stared at this strange yet powerful trio. One hair of the children of the Grand Lord's consort and the hall would be in pain and agony.

Rhysand felt his hand sweat, but he didn't flinch when he discreetly nudged his mother's back. Then she walked, holding her precious things as if her life depended on them.

The girl's eyes wandered around the room as she was led to the throne, where her father waited with a familiar scowl. Some stared back at her, looks of disgust and astonishment mixed with a strange, sweet smell in the air, while others didn't even give her a chance, choosing instead to watch their firstborn's every breath.

A few more steps brought the trio to their destination, and they all seemed to straighten up as Alayna whispered, her knee hitting the ground with a deafening thud:

"My Lord."

The crowd echoed in amazement and fear, and Rhysand followed in his mother's footsteps, choosing to lower his head and form a thin line with his lips before any nonsense could escape; this was no time for jokes. His sister, however, didn't seem to be thinking the same thing, or at all, for she looked like a frightened statue.

Kneel down, the boy thought, hoping she would get the message, but nothing happened. The girl didn't drop to the floor or give any sign of surrender, just stared into the emptiness of the room as if a ghost were haunting her.

A raised eyebrow, a tired sigh and a sudden tug brought her back to the moment of tension, and her mother mentally apologized as she straightened her knees on the cold floor of the hall.

"Stand up," the Grand Lord commanded.

In an instant, the trio had their backs straightened. Then the eldest stared at the youngest, a bad feeling filling him like cold water, and waved a hand dismissively.

Only when they reached the edge of the room did Alayna allow herself to let her guard down a little, sighing audibly as she leaned her head against the wall for a few seconds, just to get herself together for the rest of the party.

That would be a long night.

A few centuries later, but even before…

The night was still as the female tidied herself up, her lips parted as she tried to draw the outline of her eyes with the greasy black ink. Frankly, it was an almost impossible task, but she was determined to succeed.

"You look gorgeous, my dear."

She snorted a curse with her eyes fixed on the mirror, but she let Lucien know how much that made her want to laugh, because she looked anything but gorgeous.

He laughed as he felt the hairs on his arms stand up in the sudden air under his shirt.

"Think about it, you don't have to worry about your eyebrow at all."

"Just the mouth, right?"

"This is one thing we'll never be able to fix." He shrugged and popping his back as he got up from his friend's comfortable bed. "You've been at it for almost an hour, give it a rest."

She didn't bother to answer, choosing instead to stare at him in the mirror. If it hadn't been for the hideous mask, he would have seen his eyebrow arched in defiance.

"Don't you have some little children to torment?"

"I left it till next week." The fae laughed, her wings flapping in amusement. "You look like a dog wagging its tail.

Lucien was suddenly quiet, aware of the sour provocation. It wasn't a lie that he followed his Grand Lord until when he wasn't asked, but she always made it clear how much such things bothered her. Not that it was her problem; he was older, he was aware of his own attitudes, but he couldn't help but worry about his closest friend.

He was her confidant, her best companion in this shitty situation, so they could throw her to the wolves if someone was bothered by her concern.

"We'll be late if we keep arguing like this." He dodged the issue, running his fingers through his hair as he walked over to the female. "We don't want to disappoint your monstrosity."

A light laugh escaped her red lips. She liked it, how the male made her forget the darkness of the world — and her own.

"Just a second…"

Lucien snatched the pot of kohl from the dressing table and went for the brush in the girl's hand. If it hadn't been for his friend's ridiculous agility, he would have been able to steal it, but before he could blink, the fae was standing next to the closet mirror.

"You're a pain in the ass."

"You're a pain in the ass," she mimicked, pouting. "Just a second, Lulu."

He snorted and threw the container at the dark wood he'd picked it up from.

"So much stress…"

"And whose fault is it?!"

The fairy narrowed her eyes and lowered her right hand as she turned her wrist, shadows swallowing the brush and carrying it to the bowl of paint.

"Don't take your frustration out on me." The man sighed and returned to the bed. "Everyone is nervous, but don't push me.

"I know, I just..." With a sudden heaviness in his voice, his shoulders felt like they were made of lead. "I'm sorry, my dear."

Murmuring acceptance, the younger woman stared at her reflection in the mirror, the raven mask covering her face like a second skin, warm and sticky. She hated it, hated that Tamlin had convinced her to go along with this madness, but most of all she hated Amarantha.

That despicable being… One day she would kill her, and it would be painfully satisfying.

"Let's go before I give up on this shit."

Lucien laughed, some of the weight on his back disappearing.

"As if you had a choice."

"You play with life too much, Lulu."

She ran her hands down her black dress, the slit in her left leg revealing an ancient tattoo in a dead language. Then, with a confident nod, she smiled cruelly, feeling the venom seep through her pink lips; the embodiment of the Spring Court's bitch, completely separate from the dress code. If they made her a puppet, at least she'd have fun.

The male called to her, distracting her from the painful memories that threatened to take her away. An outstretched arm and kind eyes, a series of good deeds that made Lucien a complete gentleman. He could be a jerk in certain situations and extremely stupid when it came to his Grand Lord, but she would follow him to hell — or at least to that shitty party they were chained to.

"Let's parade a little, Greer."

Looking forward to it hehe Taglist: @lenasardn

[moonyasnow]

MALEK'S OUTFIT IS DONE!

(also dw I was super close to having it finished anyway so finishing it didn't strain my eyes much)

I'm sooooo proud of this one~ Especially the Prosthetic and rapier(his favorite sword— he has many)

He's trained to be able to wield his rapier with both his left arm and with his prosthetic, so that he can fight even if he doesn't have said prosthetic. The prosthetic does make things a bit easier for him, though.

MORE YAPPING ABOUT THE PROSTHETIC UNDER THE CUT!! bc damn I yap enough about his daily routine in this post already

But the basic gist is: this is only his BATTLE prosthetic, so only uses it in battle. He has other prosthetics for other uses since he's a prince who can afford that. HE NEVER WEARS THEM TO BED!

Also I tried to strike a balance in the design between 'soldier/knight' and 'prince who needs to at least look presentable'

Also updating with all the current expressions

I really like that fact that, Malek, in appearance, resembles Malleus a LOT. But his expressions look a lot closer to Irina's.

Autistic man with an extremely rigid routine

If you've ever seen those videos from the fake, satirical news program 'The Onion' and their series about 'Autistic reporter Michael Falk'... Malek would also be enchanted by the rigid routine of prisons.

Malek just lives out this fantasy by living like a soldier.

Also! From what I can gleam in-game, it seems like Malleus, Lilia and Sebek, being 'nocturnal fae' are actually nocturnal, and awake at night rather than in the day. Malleus states in his New year's card's lines that waking up in the morning is difficult for him, and he is also known to go on a lot of walks at night, during which he never appears tired.

He gets up at 17:00/5PM— around two hours before most of his family— has breakfast after getting dressed and making his bed, and is never finished after 17:45. Then from 17:45-18:00 he stretches, after which he trains until 20:00/8PM. Then he goes to sit with his family while they eat breakfast, taking something small for himself too, though always leaves at 20:30, even if they're not all done. Then he dedicates his time until 00:00/Midnight with miscellaneous tasks, such as helping other soldiers train. If there's no one to help, he checks to make sure the weapon storage isn't missing anything, and that everything inside is organized. He does keep this part of his day less rigid, knowing that something might pop up in regards to his other duties as a prince, which are— to his chagrin— never possible to predict.

Then he has lunch with his family at 00:00, leaving at 01:00 instead, to have more time with them. If something comes up that would make the family not have lunch at that time, Malek still does. He always brings something small with him, like an apple, to make sure he can always eat SOME kind of lunch at his usual time, even if it isn't very filling. Otherwise everything just feels wrong.

Then he goes on patrol for an hour. Though since this is not usually very serious, more like a walk, or to break up any arguments he comes across, sometimes his sister Maleah joins him for part of this walk, and they just talk a bit. Or more like she talks at him. He responds when asked for his opinion on something, though isn't very social outside of that. Partly due to not liking to do things he considers useless, but also due to often not knowing what to say that isn't going into a tirade about military organization, historic military practices, or the history of sword-making, or swordsmanship in general.

Maleah knows this very well, and doesn't mind him not responding a lot, being very well aware he's still paying attention.

Then from 02:00 until around 06:00/6AM, he alots the time to any social events he'd been invited to— seeing it as his duty as a prince to show up. Or if no such invitations have been sent his way, he spends it with his family members. Most often he ends up spending that time with Maleah, the two just relaxing in her drawing room (Malek would have had a drawing room too, if he'd wanted it, but he declined, wanting his personal chambers to be used for sleeping only), Malek maybe taking the time to do maintenance on one of his swords or one of his sets of armor.

If Maleah is busy rehearsing for a show, or one of his other family members finds him first, he spends time with someone else. Most often either one of his uncles— Sebek and Silver— or his youngest siblings Malissa and Malindt. Malissa often comes to ask him to play, since he never says no unless he already has plans. She often uses the opportunity to make him do something 'silly' none of their other siblings want to do, since she never even has convince Malek to give it his all and put a lot of effort into it.

Then from 05:00-06:30 he trains. Then he stretches until 07:00, after which he goes to bed.

PROSTHETIC STUFF!

This is specifically his battle prosthetic— it being made of metal makes it heavier. He is VERY strong due to training every single day- routine is very important to him— but the arm is still too heavy to be very comfortable in more day-to-day use. So he only uses this prosthetic when he's going to be dueling against someone, or for training to be able to use it in battle

It's attached to his right arm with a strap that's under the sleeve, hence why you can't see it in this image— and those strips wrap around his torso, too, to keep it securely in place. These straps do get very uncomfortable, though, which is another part in why he limits his use of this specific prosthetic.

After that, he uses magic to move it around. So in that sense, it COULD be more manouverable than a non-magic prosthetic would be, allowing him more ease of movement in his fingers— but since this prosthetic's fingers only needs to be able to grip securely onto a sword, that wasn't included in the design, and so the fingers are quite stiff. But the magic is very useful in allowing him to easily move the upper and lower parts of it— the extra help is needed since his real arm ends around his chest, so it's not long enough to be easily able to move a heavy metal arm, nor would the movements of an entire arm be something it'd be used to and have muscle memory for.

These straps do get very uncomfortable, though, which is another part in why he limits his use of this specific prosthetic.

He has other prosthetics, which he can afford due to being a prince— most people can only afford one, if even that. He has one specifically for writing, and one for doing tasks requiring finer motor skills— such as, for example, tying knots. Those do have more finely tuned control of the fingers.

And he always takes off his prosthetics before bed, and often when he's just spending time with family, too.

Tag list :) Since I'm really proud of this outfit and wanna yap to people about it lol

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad

@gingacat @buttholesparkles @scint1llat3 @jadelover69 @angelwishess

@crimsonrose34 @nerenda @chillygourami

[nonrebloggingviewerswillbeshot]

A Dellamorte PSA

Disclaimer: Not only do I have the privilege of talking about this topic because I suffered from emotional, psychological, physical and sexual abuse from my family, but this post will contain game spoilers. You have been warned!

Just a friendly but also scathing reminder to those who think otherwise, that what Caterina did to her grandsons was abuse!

Abuse comes in many forms and just because no one is going to argue that her treatment of them did in fact give them the skills they needed to survive, taught them how to close themselves off and push through, in a world that would have chewed them up and spat them out, it doesn't make it any less abuse.

Illario didn't get to be the way he was because Caterina was fair with them. He didn't just up and want to kill Lucanis because Grandmother dearest didn't play favorites. Its practically drilled into you from multiple people in the game(and even the book to an extent) that Caterina adored Lucanis and pushed Illario out into the cold.

Those boys lost everything because rival Crows killed their family. They were already in a raw and emotional state before they ended up with her. Just because you're raised an assassin it doesn't mean you aren't going to be completely hurt and devastated over your entire families deaths.

Just look at how unhealthily and toxically Lucanis clings to any scrap of family he has left, even Illario, that inadvertently sent him to a year of(to coin one of Astarion's lines) PURE SHIT!

That's a man who has been hurt by his past. A man who can't lose anything else. And his Inner Demons quest does a good job of explaining this.

So, if you think that a child, Illario, coming under Caterina's care only to be largely overlooked and neglected because Caterina was always going to see Lucanis as her favorite and golden child, never him, wasn't going to fuck him up in the head, you're delusional. And ignoring the basic human psyche.

He lost everything and wanted some love as all children do, from their guardians and caregivers. Instead all Illario got was the repeated swatting away of his hand as he reached out to try and hold what he wanted and needed while he was vulnerable.

I understand Illario, more than I thought I would. If I had grown up a Crow, I very much so would have offed my siblings much like he tried to because I was Illario in my household.

I feel for him, despite recognizing that he was very much in the wrong and shouldn't have done anything he did end up doing. I don't even like Illario, but I don't have to like someone to understand them, and pity and sympathize with them.

What Caterina did to both of them, wasn't fair, especially since Lucanis never even wanted to be the First Talon, and still doesn't even if after finding out what Illario did he wanted to 'take everything from him' and all Illario had left at that point while Lucanis still believed Caterina to in fact be dead(and that Illario himself was the one who killed Caterina because Zara reveals she didn't do it, with Emmerich's corpse whispering), is the oh so coveted seat of First Talon.

The thing that started it all, the title, the seat of power. The thing that destroyed the relationship of two cousins who were as close as brothers. It never should have happened, and despite already losing so much, Caterina is directly responsible for destroying what little they all had left.

Its a sad, pathetic state of affairs, that Caterina's own trauma over losing so much of her family as Velardo sought to steal her throne, caused her to abuse her grandsons, who she would have eventually anyway in one form or other because Lucanis states they would have ended up with her regardless.

None of it should have happened, but it did. It turned Illario into a jealous/envious monster who both loved and hated his newfound brother, because Lucanis feasted while Illario was left with scraps and crumbs at the foot of the Dellamorte table.

And it forced Lucanis into the role of favorite and golden child that he himself never wanted. He never wanted that animosity to come from Illario because of something he couldn't control and that closing scene in Wigmaker about how the rift between them was suddenly much wider than a table, spoke volumes.

Because you don't say no to family. You only nod and bow your head, silent and submissive to shoulder whatever family chooses to lump onto you. That's how they were raised. And Lucanis has, for want of a better turn of phrase; No spine to deny his grandmother anything.

.

I could go on for longer, but I've ranted enough and said what I needed to say. As always feel free to reply to the post, open a conversation, but be respectful and civil.