#this also goes out to my other asks. If you EVER dare ignore these asks that I have been posting on here

[not-rascal-artz]

Please share/reblog our voice, donate to save our lives Believe me, every contribution, no matter how small, helps to survive 🙏

Are you waiting us to die so that you can feel or do what needs to do ?! 😔

Vetted by . @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @nabulsi

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-shady-samir-ashour

I do not have the money the donate unfortunately, but I will definitely share your story on this account and my main account.

THIS IS THE LINK TO SHADY ASHOUR’S GOFUNDME! I NEED YOU GUYS TO PLEASE STOP WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU’RE DOING AND HELP THIS INNOCENT SOUL ESCAPE GAZA AND LIVE IN PEACE WITH THEIR FAMILY!!

(by the way guys.. it doesn’t matter if you follow me or not. please read the hashtags. I am genuinely begging you.)

[lexsssu]

Sweet (Totsumoto Yuushi)

TAGS: Yuushi/F!Reader, smut, breeding, impregnation, some plot Ao3 ver.

Iɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ғɪɴᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏᴡ ᴏғ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʟʏ ɪʀʀᴇsɪsᴛɪʙʟᴇ.

Totsumoto Yuushi had been down on his luck ever since the recession had forced his former company to let go of him. Applying to other companies also yielded no results, so he was stuck moving from part-time job to part-time job.

However, it wasn’t all that bad.

Before he’d lost his former job as a salaryman, he’d met cute little you.

Soft, fragrant, and probably the sweetest cinnamon roll he had ever come to meet in his entire life. 

You with your saccharine smiles and genuine warmth and concern for some random older man you’d met (he passed out on the side of a dingy alley, having drowned himself in beer after being forced to do some more unpaid overtime).

You could have simply ignored him back then because he would have woken up some hours later with a hangover and got back home relatively in one piece.

But you didn’t.

Out of the goodness of your heart, you managed to drag him back to your own apartment and had him settled on your sofa-bed. Hell, you even went as far as laying a blanket on him and putting a pillow that was softer and smelled nicer than any pillow he’d ever used beneath his head.

“Good morning. I just made breakfast if you’re feeling hungry,” your melodic voice greeted him as he sat up, somewhat disoriented and wondering where the fuck he’d ended up after passing out last night.

But speaking of breakfast, Yuushi feels his stomach grumbling as the scent of freshly cooked rice, eggs, toast, and bacon permeated around the homey apartment. 

“If it’s not too much trouble…” 

“Please, help yourself. I made more than enough to share!”

And for the first time in a very long time, he finds himself sharing a home-cooked meal with someone. Even if you were virtually strangers, he already feels much closer to you than anyone he’s currently acquainted with.

Yuushi goes home with his stomach full, heart warm, and your number on his contact list.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Contrary to popular belief, he does not sleep with you the next time you two meet up (which was at a popular cafe where he finds himself mesmerized at the sheer happiness you exuded just from tasting the pastries and one of those creamy, fruity drinks). 

He does his best to ignore the way the thick, white cream decorates your lips before you lick it off with your pink tongue.

Nor does Yuushi sleep with you even after every time you hang out after that.

He doesn’t do anything to break the ‘platonic’ friendship you two share, because he is so starved of human connection that he finds these moments with you more than enough…for the time being, that is.

Besides, how can he even dare to prey on cute little you, when you blushed so prettily when he so much as placed a hand on your shoulder or on the small of your back as he steered you somewhere?

You certainly deserved better.

A dirty old man like himself isn’t worth your attention and affection if you asked him.

But then he loses his job, fails to find a new one, and continuously fails to pay rent at his old apartment.

Just when it feels like his entire world is crashing before his very eyes, there you are again with a hand held out to him.

“You can stay with me for as long as you need to.”

Yuushi doesn’t hesitate, nor does he hold himself back anymore.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“I want to impregnate you. Gonna make sure my cock keeps kissing your womb like this.”

With your legs wrapped around his waist and your lower body practically folded in half to accommodate the heavy weight of the older man’s body, Yuushi is as deep inside you as he could be. And just like his words, the tip of his cock keeps bullying the entrance to your womb in this position.

“I'll take good care of you and all the little ones we’ll make, I promise.”

The way your insides practically choke his dick with just a few words renews his stamina, and so you both lose yourselves in a haze of pleasure just before the first rays of sunlight peeked through the blinds.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You become Mrs. Totsumoto not too long after, and the both of you move outside Tokyo to manage the strawberry farm you inherited from your grandparents. While your husband does most of the heavy work, especially as your pregnancy progressed, you still helped around with light housework and making different kinds of products with the strawberries you produced.

Aside from the fruits themselves, your humble farm also made strawberry jam, milk, strawberry ice cream, etc. You also had contracts with several businesses, supplying them with your high-quality products.

All in all, business was booming and life was good.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

At a newly opened inn somewhere in Japan, the new owner received this week’s shipment of strawberries as his otherwordly wife peeked from behind him.

“Ooooooh, this new batch of strawberries from our supplier is especially tasty today! Would you like to try some K-ko?”

[mykoreanlove]

SPINNING BOTTLES

part 1 part 2 part 3 lil extra

“This is stupid”, you groaned annoyed as your best friend pushed you into the dorm. “Is not”, she retorted and guided you through the crowded room. “What are you going to do? Avoid him forever? Go live a little, y/n.”

Your friend had dragged you to this week’s dorm party which was crowded with all kinds of people – your classmates, friends, acquaintances, and him. Eun Woo. The one you had lost your heart to ever since you laid eyes on him. The one you were desperately in love with. The one who made you laugh so hard that your belly would ache. The one you could tell your darkest secrets and deepest desires to without being judged. The one you had to ignore ever since he got a girlfriend. You swallowed hard, anxious to see him in here. With her. Picturing this alone made you nauseous, what were you to do if you actually saw them together? “Here”, your friend handed you a beverage in a red cup. “What’s that?” “Something to call your nerves, y/n.” The music was loud, and the air was stuffy but after downing a couple of those nerve calming juices you felt yourself blend in with the crowd, moving your body effortlessly to the pulsating sounds. Not long after you found yourself sat in a circle, a mixture of random people you had never seen before and a couple of classmates. “What are we going to do?” “Spin the bottle, baby. Time to make this party a bit more exciting.” You chuckled and thought back to the last time you were playing this game. Was it high school? “What are we waiting for?”, you asked curiously. “The bottle, silly. Eun Woo is going to get it.” Shit, what did he say? Eun Woo? You quickly got up to your feet but stopped in your tracks as you saw him enter the room, holding a green glass bottle in his hands. Your heart skipped various beats, not only because you finally saw him again but also because his beauty got even more surreal. His dark eyes found yours instantly – they were piercing through you, cutting you like a sharp blade. “Y/N, sit down. We’re about to begin. Come on”, the others urged you to sit. You obeyed and got back on the ground, sitting opposite to Eun Woo now. You tried to avert your gaze, you really fucking tried but it was fruitless. You were drawn to him like a moth to the flame. He held your gaze each time, not saying a word, not grimacing, nothing. Just straight up looking at you. You barely noticed the others playing the game as you were too engulfed with him. “Eun Woo, bro. Your turn. Truth or dare?” Only now did you realize that the green bottle had faced him, daring him to reveal himself. “Dare”, he said flat. “Make out with someone in this circle!” Eun Woo shook his head, denying this request. “I’m not doing that. I’ve got a girlfriend.” The others groaned in annoyance. “That’s not how the game goes. Okay, truth then. We’ll ask you a couple of questions since you cheated already.” Eun Woo shrugged his shoulders, not really caring about that. “Speaking of your girlfriend – where is she?” You averted your gaze to the ground; it was too hard listening to him talking about her. “At home.” “Why?” Eun Woo sighed annoyed. “We had a fight.” “What was is about?” “The state of our relationship.” “What about it?” “It’s not the best.” “Why?” “Because I’m in love with someone else.” Your eyes shot up instantly, finding his dark eyes which never left you. Your heart was racing, pounding heavily now. “You are in love with someone else? Well, shit!”, the others laughed. “Who is it?” For the first time Eun Woo turned his head and looked at the one that was asking those intimate questions, shooting daggers of hate at him. “Someone who broke my heart.” “Wait, were you already dating someone else?” He chuckled, masquerading his hurt. “No, we were just friends. But it kind of felt like dating to me.” “What happened then?” “She stopped talking to me.” "Just like that?" "Just like that." “Oh, that’s fucked up.” “Why did she do that?” Eun Woo turned his head again, looking you straight in the eyes while asking sincerely. “Why did you do it, y/n?”

[snail-migraine]

hello !! please delete / ignore if this validates your rules !! ^ __ ^

Platonic Yandere Malleus & child [name] . .

and [name] may or may not be a brat . . and probably failing school ( it’s college so no wonder !!)

preferably he / him prns but you can do whatever :] thank you !! there’s just not enough platonic yanderes in twstfandom . .

Of course! I'd be more than happy to this. The platonic yandere is a trope thats very unexplored, so I'd love to do one! Thanks for the Ask!

-

Anon-Yan💌.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Malleus

So since there were no specifics on who reader might be [Just that reader is Malleus's Child] let's just say that reader is Malleus's adopted child, but is still Fae. Just not a draconic fae.

Malleus as Yandere father is super-overprotective. The phrase "Helicopter Parent" Doesn't even begin to describe this man.

Maybe it was due all of the neglect he suffered through as a child, but this man absolutely refuse to give you any sort of privacy or space. Even as a teenager.

He just hates the idea of you feeling lonely so he spends practically every second he can with you, even at you're own expense.

Malleus is also petrified of losing you, Lillia is closing in on his own death, Silver never had very long compared to Malleus, and Sebek is half human, meaning he will never live as long as Malleus.

You're the only other family he has aside from his grandmother, he's not letting you go easily.

Malleus is one of those people who can't help but spoil their children, he'd hate to start yelling at his precious baby.

Maybe all that spoiling is how you got the way you are. Entitled and bratty.

When you first started going to school Malleus would get complaints from teachers on just how terrible you would be to the other kids.

But he refused to believe his precious baby was so awful. Especially when you started [fake] crying, saying that the teachers and other students here were mean to you.

"How dare you accuse my child of such terrible acts! My child would never do such a thing. They are nothing but a sweetheart. If I ever hear such a blatant lie fall from your lips ever again, the consequences will result in your immediate execution. Understand?"

Those poor teachers man.

Malleus babies you so much it isn't until Lillia, Silver, Sebek, and his grandmother hold an intervention that he'll start being a little hard on you.

But even then, if you start crying he'll back down.

It's ironic that somebody so strong breaks so easily at the slightest little swell of your tear-ducts.

Life goes on like this for a long time, with you causing trouble and Malleus brushing it off like it's nothing.

It isn't until you're a teenager and enrolled in Night Raven College that you finally cross the line.

"Mr. Draconia, I don't what it is but your child seems hellbent on becoming one of the worst students this school has ever seen!", Crowley exclaims, "Just last week they destroyed on of Diasomnia's numerous gargoyles! Even with my genius expertise, I can't keep them under control."

You keep your arms crossed and blow a peice of hair out of your face. 'That crow is still yapping.' You think to yourself, annoyed about having to listen to some lousy headmaster blab on and on about how you were sooooo terrible. As if the guy really thought that the Malleus Draconia would ever listen to his bullshit.

Dad always took your side, any second now that crow would finally shut his mouth and your dad would finally get you out of this dump.

Crowley jumps in his seat when a strike of thunder hits outside. 'There it is.' Dad always hated it when people accused you. The frown on your face lightens to a devious smirk.

"Ehem.", Crowley tries to regain his composure, "I believe if they're behavior doesn't change I'll have to expel them."

Thats when Malleus finally snaps, but he doesn't make it clear to you, or Crowley. But God is he pissed. He's spent all this time babying and treating you like the little royal he knows you should be, but look at you! Nothing but a troublemaker with no respect for anyone or anything around you. Has he really failed as father this badly?

You know what? It doesn't matter anymore, cause guess what? He's no longer going to baby you, you're almost an adult for sevens sake! And you've got the intelligence of two year old.

"That's fine, Headmaster Crowley." He says, trying to keep his demeanor calm despite the now raging storm outside. "I think it's best that from now on I start home-schooling them anyways."

His curls his fists into his lap.

"Thank you for your time, we'll be getting Their things now and removing them from campus. Have a good day Crowley." And with that he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you out of the room.

He didn't even let you grab your things, he just pulled you to the mirror and sent both of you back to Briar Valley. Once there, he continues pulling you around by your arm until he gets to one of old dungeon cells put high up in a tower. There he finally lets you go by throwing you in. When you try to ask why he's doing this he shushes you with his glare. Pointed and sharp.

He may be father, but he's not going to play nice.

He takes a deep breathe, a crackle of green thunder booms from outside the old brick walls of the castle, before he speaks up.

"You disappoint me. I have given you nothing but love and generosity in the hopes that you would turn out as a kind, loving, and respectful person."

You're at a loss for words as you try to say something, anything, but he glares at you once more and shushes you.

"You are a member of the Draconia Family. There are rules and guidelines we must follow, we can not go around acting like brats and destroying anything we like. And until you adhere to those simple rules, you will no longer be treated as a royal.", His tone was sharper than the deadliest knife. And his words made you more scared of your father than you'd ever been before.

"Your time will be spent either studying or cleaning. In your down time you will be making your food and no servant will be tending to you. Do you understand?" You could only nod dumbly as actual tears welled in your eyes. The sight made him grimace.

"..I love you my dear, but you are a Draconia. And you need to start acting like it." He said, almost as though he was trying to comfort you. Before turning on his heel and walking down the winding steps out of the tower.

[lovezbrownies]

Yandere!Chief of Police.

Character: Grim Ludenhart, 32, male, 199 cm/ 6'5 ft.

Pretty mild tbh, not too yandere but there is a future work containing your life with him after where it will be darker hopefully. also my ass did not read through this so whatever mistakes i made please ignore them thanks!

Minors DNI!!

Word count: 1725 words.

Content warning: Lying??, obsession, stalking, abuse of power, age gap (5 years- darling: 27, Grim: 32), implications of criminal activity.

Grim isn’t one for love, even the thought of it was unappealing for a while. Up until he met you. Grim was known to be a stoic man, however stoic he can be he was still extremely approachable. Ironically, Grim doesn’t care for anyone aside from his family. Grim would be less popular if these nobles knew what he actually thought of them, due to his job as Chief of Police, he and the rest of the Board of Chiefs of Xelera are required to attend every event and ball that Queen Nia hosts. Although Grim hates Queen Nia’s events he also likes to attend other events that nobles would host and invite him. He only ever goes there to make sure unnecessarily rich bastards keep up their support of the Police, as well as to maintain a good reputation among the nobles, he needs their support for whenever someone dares threaten his position.

All in all, Grim despises the nobles he’s constantly surrounded by, including the nobles he’d publicly called his friends. Which would be why he found himself here, in a tiny bar, sitting in a tiny booth, his real friends around him, all being middle class “peasants”. He liked it here, he can be the small town boy again with these people. ‘’So he cornered me, and mind you he’s doing all of this over a cake! He goes ‘Well, Grim, good to see you! Uh, you got that cake recipe written down yet?’ Blah blah, this man wouldn’t stop yappin’ i had half a mind to smack him right then and there and tell him my ma made it for me!” A roar of laughter goes off, as the laughing dies down Grim flags down a busser working at the bar. He couldn’t see them all that clearly but who cares, he’s just going to pay and leave after all.

Well, he did care, and so did his buddies as they witnessed Grim become awestruck as he talks with the server, an attractive young thing, possibly mid twenties. “Hello! My name is Y/n, is there anything I can help you with?” They greeted the table with a warm smile, a notepad in hand, waiting to be given orders to fulfill. Grim, awestruck, sat quite for a second before collecting himself when one of the guys he’s sitting next to nudged him. ‘’Ahem, yes, can I pay my bill please? Bill’s name under Greg Hart.” Grim cringed, wishing he hadn’t made up a fake name in this bar, if only he knew there was love around the corner. ‘Ah, giving your fake name to the gorgeous busser, how absolutely romantic!’ Grim chastised himself silently.

You nodded, smile as warm as the summer sun, ‘’Alrighty, I’ll get you your bill, does anyone need anything else however?” Your pretty eyes sadly cut contact with Grim to look at the rest of the table, while Grim had been completely fixated on you, even as you left he couldn’t get his eyes off you, the way your hips move, the way you swiftly move about the tables littered around the bar, the way you lean into the bar counter, the way your head tilts as you presumably ask for a Greg Hart’s check. Grim’s train of thought was caught off as the guy next to him threw their arm around Grim. “Well, looks like Grim isn’t interested in us anymore!” The group laughs heartily and Grim chuckles in embarrassment. 

Grim’s been a regular at that particular downtown bar since he’s started Cadet School, which would be now be 14 years ago, as soon as he turned 18 he had applied and gotten accepted. And out of those 14 years, the bar only just started getting better when you started working there. Grim had studied your schedule as well as he could, what shifts you had, whether you were closing or opening on a particular day. He knows everything about you, seriously, when he went to work the next day he managed to find your information after skimming through numerous pictures of other Y/Ns who were not you. Grim isn’t a slacker, so he sent over all of your records to his personal laptop to look at when he gets back home. And oh boy did he look! Grim didn’t leave a single record unread, spending hours going through your school records, your medical records, every job you’ve had, he learnt your family’s history entirely, safe to say he unfortunately missed out on seeing you that day at the bar.

Grim doesn’t like going to the bar during the weekdays because his job has always been top priority, yet here he was, chatting you up on a tuesday, the bar mostly empty as you two talk about everything and anything that comes to mind. At some points you’d get interrupted by another patron requesting help, and when that happens Grim liked to glare at them as hard as he could, eventually most regulars learnt to ask for whatever drink they want at the bar itself. Your boss also tried to lecture you on how you’ve barely been doing your job but one look from Grim had them scurrying away. 

He hates the fact you call him ‘’Greg’’, he has been chatting with you for 4 weeks now, although it really is his fault he couldn’t come up with a way to tell you that he gave you a fake name and he is actually a fearsome chief. Don’t get me wrong he has a spectacular reputation, he makes sure to have the people’s best interest at heart, but he doesn’t exactly look friendly, a tired set of lifeless eyes paired with lips that never smile has made people fear meeting him. But that’s okay! You know him now after all, you’ve seen him smile, his eyes still look tired but at least they have light in them now! Maybe you’d be open to him if he told you the truth, maybe you’d love him more if you knew about how much power he has! So, as charmingly as he could, asked if you’d like to come home with him after your shift, you know as friends obviously!

And you, charmed and ever so slowly falling for your favorite regular you agreed to his proposal, what you didn’t expect was finding out your regular was actually a chief, and the Chief of Police no less! You did freak out a little but Gre- Grim had calmed you down, told you he liked you and liked how you acted around him, “You are so cute, why would I keep coming to the bar and talk with you only if I found you disrespectful, hm?” Grim smirked at you, moving from the stove to you, standing to your left he leaned a closer to you, you were seated on his kitchen counter while he was cooking up something, you still weren’t sure what he was making but it was probably good.

You shrug, equally leaning closer to him, “Hm, dunno maybe you wanna eat me or something?” Grim chuckled lightly, a handsome grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, and by heavens was he gorgeous. His gray eyes twinkled under the ambient lights in his kitchen, his eyebags suit him so well it was almost unfair how much they made him even more attractive. “If I wanted to eat you, I would’ve already done so, dear.~” Grim’s voice was soft and smooth, masculine and deep, and oh so alluring. His head tilted slightly to the side, causing his hair to flop as well. You’ve always had this urge to touch his hair, to run your hands through it and put it in various different hairstyles, and so taking your chances you raised your hands up off of the kitchen counter and ran your fingers through his hair. Grim leaned into you, humming he closed his eyes, he seemed so serene like this, and his hair is so soft.

You sat there for a minute or so, just appreciating the man in front of you, still caressing his hair, his eyes closed, it seemed like he was so close to purring like a kitty, “I don’t think I’d mind it if you ate me, at least I’m being eaten by someone I like.” You hummed out quietly, yet this nice moment was cut short by him snapping his eyes open, grabbing the hand caressing his hair he brought it down, a little close to his face, which right now seemed a little pinkier than usual. “Y-you like me?” Your surprise was cut short, you laughed leaning into his shoulder.

 “Of course I do! Haven’t you noticed yet? Thought you were smart sir, Chief of Police!”  Still leaning into his shoulder you turned your head to have a better look at Grim, and quite frankly seeing him this flustered after watching so many interviews and speeches with Grim being completely expressionless was pure gold. Grim was staring at you, eyes wide but not meeting your own, eyebrows straight up, cheeks pink, and mouth slightly agape. You try to take your hand back so you can caress his hair again, but his grip tightens, seemingly getting out of his trance, Grim collects himself, he looks straight into your eyes, his eyes tender with love, he smiles gingerly, though his cheeks are still pink, it seems he’s gained enough courage to speak now.

Grim shrugged your head off his shoulder, cupping your face with his free hand Grim leaned into you, your foreheads now touching. Grim stares at you, looking deep into your eyes with such love it’s making you feel all types of flustered. “I hope you know I’ve never believed in love at first sight until I saw you, I- Can I kiss you?” Grim’s soft and honeyed words have you completely wrapped around his pinkie, he has now completely captivated your heart. You smile, nodding, mentally begging him to make the move, make you his. Little did you know that the moment he captured your lips onto his own you will forever be his, never being let go, and let’s just hope you don’t find out the things he has done and will do to make sure you stay his.

also bonus image :3

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Expecting

Keeping mine and Tommys relationship a secret wasn't something I wanted to do. I wanted us to be official, but Tommy had other ideas. Instead we would sneak into each others bed at night. All hell broke loose though when I found out I was with child. At first Tommy didn't believe me that it was his, then he told me that he didn't want to settle down and have a family. Offered to find a good doctor to do an abortion. I refused and now I'm known at the Watery Lane Whore. Anger however bubbles inside of me when Tommy announces his relationship with Grace and that they were expecting.

I walk through the door of the Garrison and the first thing I see is her smiling and laughing with Tommy and his family. I roll my eyes and turn around wanting to leave when John calls me over

"YN! Come join us, we're celebrating"

"No thank you John" I glance over to Tommy who's got his arm around Grace "not in the mood"

"Hey wait" John runs over to me "how's the baby?" he asks with genuine concern

"Fine"

"Fuck YN whatever you and Tommy are fighting about now just put it to bed for one fucking nought to celebrate"

"Only if you knew what we are fighting about. Look I'm gonna go. Enjoy" as I leave I hear John say

"If I ever find the fucker who did this to her..." little does he know his own brother is the fucker that he won't do shit to. As I walk the streets to get home I'm called a number of names because I'm pregnant out of marriage, but would anyone dare say the same thing to Grace? No because she's with Tommy. The bitch that tried to get Tommy killed is now having his baby and engaged. It's like he's been brainwashed. Ignoring the comments I get home, deciding to go to bed early.

Over the next few weeks I stay as far away from the Shelby's, that is until I hear a knock on my front door. Groaning I get off the sofa, putting my book down on the coffee table and walk to the front door. I open it up not expecting to see Tommy stood there looking disheveled, but here he is

"Can I come in?" he asks sheepishly which is very unusual for Tommy. I cross my arms and frown looking at him

"I don't know. Why are you here"

"She lied. The whole time Grace was lying to me" still frowning YN doesn't say anything but continues so look at Tommy "YN please let me explain" In YNs mind she goes back at to about what she should do. Let Tommy in and talk, or close the door on him and never speak to him again.

Ending 1- YN and Tommy end up together

Wanting her child to know their father, YN sighs letting Tommy into her house. He walks in and takes off his shoes knowing YN hates mud being brought into the house. Not uttering a word, YN walks into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Tommy walks in behind her also not saying anything

“So. Gonna explain?” YN finally says crossing her arms and turning to look at Tommy

“YN I fucked up”

“Tell me about it” YN mutters

“Grace wasn’t pregnant. Never was. She was helping the copper, get close to me the kill me”

“And why should I believe you?”

“You have no reason to. I get that. But I’m sorry. I really liked.. like you YN and I let that bitch cloud my judgment. When you told me you were pregnant I freaked out. I spoke to Grace about it and she told me shit about you. Said you weren’t actually pregnant with my child, said she saw you with another man. That’s why I didn’t believe you. I was hurt”

“You you don’t think I was? I could have dealt with you not wanting a family, I could have even dealt with you just not wanting to be with me. Yes it would have hurt, but not as much as finding out you were happy to settle with Grace”

“Your right. I’m a fucking dick for that and I’m sorry” this catches YN off by surprise. Tommy never apologises. Yet here he is apologising to her “YN I promise you I will do everything I’m my power to make it up to you” thinking about it YN decides to give him a chance.

Over the next few years YN forgives Tommy, they end up getting married and having more children together.

Ending 2- YN leaves Tommy alone and moves away

“I’m sorry Tommy. I can’t. You hurt me more than I ever thought could be possible. I could have dealt with you not wanting a family, I could have even dealt with you just not wanting to be with me. Yes it would have hurt, but not as much as finding out you were happy to settle down with Grace”

“YN she was never pregnant please let me explain”

“No Tommy. I’m moving away tomorrow. I will tell our child that their father was a good man, but couldn’t look after us. When they’re 18 they can choose whether they come to see you. Until then, this is goodbye” YN closes the door in front of Tommy and heads up to her bedroom for the final time here in Watery Lane.

[starsreminisce]

Antis saying with their whole chest "Azriel only wanting a mate is canon."

To Mor. His blood chilled. He wasn’t stupid. He knew she and Azriel were . . . whatever they were. Knew Azriel had been in love with Mor from the moment she’d strutted into the Illyrian war- camp five centuries ago.

“The issue, actually, wouldn’t be me. It’d be him. I could peel off my clothes right in front of him and he wouldn’t move an inch. He might have defied and proved those Illyrian pricks wrong at every turn, but it won’t matter if Rhys makes him Prince of Velaris - he’ll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me.”

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.” “Wouldn’t the mating bond have snapped into place for them if it exists?” Rhys’s eyes shuttered. “I think that is a question Azriel has been asking himself every day since he met Mor.”

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"  Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"  Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.  Rhys's face drained of color. "You believe you deserve to be her mate?"   Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway." 

The reason why I can confidently say with my full busty af chest that Azriel only wants a mate is because of his entire relationship and history with Mor, and how he approached Rhys when he entered his office.

So when Azriel's question turned to Elain and Lucien, shifting the focus to something about the Cauldron being wrong (despite it being stated in HOFAS that the Cauldron doesn't determine mates), and when he ignored Rhys's inquiry about the female he had been in love with for 500 years to demand an explanation on how two brothers are with two of those sisters—keeping in mind that those two sisters are mates to his brothers—and why the third sister was not given to him, it tells me that he is solely fixated on finding a mate because that's what he reduced Elain to.

"Two of my brothers are mated to my sisters, and yet the third is mated to someone else," is what he essentially conveyed.

Azriel waited 500 years to reveal his feelings to Mor, even though she had shut down his very first confession. Why? Why would anyone wait that long?

If they were his mate.

Because he felt instantly attracted to her the moment she came into his life, because he was willing to risk entering another High Lord's territory to bring her back, because when the confrontation at Hybern reached a critical point where Mor's life was in jeopardy, he went to her—even when he was injured by an ashbolt. Even when Elain was brought out.

And we're told that those were signs of the mating bond.

But the only requirement that the Suriel asked of Feyre was, "He is the most powerful High Lord to ever walk this earth. You are … new. You are made of all seven High Lords. Unlike anything. Are you two not similar in that? Are you not matched?"

Mor and Azriel are not similar. They are not as well matched as Gwyn and Azriel, based on the little we see of Gwyn so far. And even then, we see Azriel treat Gwyn more like an equal than he ever did Mor or Elain.

Elain and Azriel are not similar. SJM even goes so far as to describe that Elain will stay by the sunniest of windows, while Azriel’s shadows don’t even venture out to the sun. These differences in their fundamental needs suggest that compromise or adaptation would be necessary for their relationship.

On the other hand, Azriel and Gwyn share similarities in their history, trauma, preferences for weapons, and affinity for spying, making them potentially better suited for each other.

Also, we have this from HOFAS. Badass Azriel would have said that he doesn't need one.

[riordanness]

when i was drowning - [p.jackson]

wordcount: 0.7K

warnings: almost drowning

requested: yes!! @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch6190

I should have known going swimming on my own would become a disaster. But technically, it was also the best day of my life.

Being a daughter of Hades is hard. Being the sister of Nico di Angelo is hard. Being a demigod is hard. But being in love with Perseus Jackson? That is the opposite of hard.

His sea green eyes that sparkle when he laughs. How he runs his hands through his scruffy black hair, making it even messier. How he fights with his shiny sword like nobody's watching. How he cares for the new campers, jokes with his friends, and always eats blue food if he can manage it.

I think it’s impossible not to fall for Percy Jackson. It’s the easiest? most natural feeling in the world.

Anyways, I’m a bit of a loner. Most campers don’t tend to want to hang out with the creepy death twins, so both Nico and I decide to be alone most of the time. Over the years here at camp, Nico has been in and out a lot, shadow travelling all over the world and even into hell once.

I’ve stayed here at camp all this time. I spend my time alone. I’ve tried to redecorate the Hades cabin (Nico made some terrible decisions as a young child and I am desperate to fix it). I do classes alone or sometimes with the Apollo kids (Will Solace is dating my brother, and he is like a brother to me).

Sorry, I’m getting off topic. Solangelo does that to people.

So on that shiny summer morning, Im walking down the dirt path to the lake. I’m glad I’m alone. I’d never dare to swim with someone else. No that anyone would want to do that with a Hades kid. We’re “creepy and dark and mysterious” or whatever. Which isn’t true. Yeah, I’m a introvert, but so are a lot of other people.

I have the weirdest feeling someone is watching me. I whirl around, but see nothing. Huh. I decide to ignore the strange feeling and just relax a little.

I wander down to the canoe lake, strip down to my sports bra and bike shorts, and dive off the end of the pier.

Unfortunately, I misjudged my dive. I landed wrong, felt my leg bend weirdly, and plummeted into the water. My head hits something hard, and everything goes black.

The next time I open my eyes, they see the somewhat blurry ceiling of the infirmary. Yellow light fills the room, warm and sunshiny and very Apollo cabin themed. I’m not sure I like this aesthetic so much.

“Y/n!”

It’s Nico. He rushes over and sits down on a stool beside me. “Damn, are you okay?”

I groan, my head suddenly spiked with pain. “Um. I think so? What the hell happened?”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, you almost freakin drowned. What were you thinking? Going to swim alone?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, wincing. “So… what happened?”

Nico gives me a look. “You hit your head, we think. You would’ve drowned, you know. Except for Percy…”

I’m immediately paying attention. “Percy?” I ask curiously.

Nico looks slightly amused, and also annoyed. “Yeah, Percy Jackson. You were gonna drown, but he saved you. Lucky he happened to be walking past, which is weird, cause he was supposed to be at archery practice then.”

I flush slightly. “He… he saved me?”

Nico nods. “Gods, you’re hopeless. Stop getting all flustered over him.”

“Hey!” I complain. “Says you, whenever Will walks in the door.”

“Shut up.”

I smirk, and even though my head hurts something awful, Percy Freaking Jackson saved me in a canoe lake today. And that’s enough to make this my best day ever.

[marveloustimestwo]

love your hcs!! can i request more game of thrones, preferably the starks? platonic or romantic!

Thank you so much! I'm glad you like them! I went for Robb because he's one of my favorites in Game of Thrones.

Warnings: Yandere themes, a couple mentions of death, but not at all graphic.

Across the board, platonic or romantic, Robb is overprotective, clingy, and possessive.

He's a very loyal and naturally protective person. When he loves someone, he's going to do all that he can to make sure that they're safe and cared for.

In a platonic sense, he's going to view you as a little sibling, whether you're blood-related or not. He almost immediately demands you be taken in if you're not. He leaves no room for argument, and considering how stubborn he can be, his parents give in pretty easily.

I can easily also see him calling you his best friend as well as a sibling, which means that he'll want to spend a lot of time with you.

Robb will demand you have the room next to him so that you're closer and more easily accessible. He'll also make sure everything is up to his pretty high standards so that you're comfortable and well cared for.

And if anyone dares say you're not actually his sibling or best friend, he's not afraid to challenge them to a fight. He'll rough them up a bit more than necessary, too, just to let the message sink in.

In a romantic sense, once Robb gets an inkling of affection for you, he'll fall pretty fast and hard.

Robb grew up seeing his parents have this fairytale-like love and he strives to have that sort of thing with you.

He'll go about courting you in a very romantic manner. He brings you your favorite flowers, asks you to go on walks or on a horse ride alone with him, compliments you all the time, and tries his hardest to win all of the sparring matches he has with Theon and Jon when you're around.

(And not that you'll ever know this, but he goes out of his way to scare off any other potential suitors you have. Sometimes he might threaten them himself, but other times he'll pay a guard or two to do the dirty work.)

Robb wants you to see him as honorable, strong, and brave. He never wants you to fear him.

And he can be pretty good about being normal. If his father is still around, he'll be pretty persistent in convincing him to arrange a marriage with you, even if you're a commoner or a bastard.

Once Robb becomes King of the North, he won't really care what anyone else thinks. He's going to marry you, end of story.

He's pretty convincing when it comes to you. Any doubts or protests you have about the idea will be reasoned away because Robb will hammer in the idea that he is hopelessly in love with you.

Robb could not care less if you were born a bastard or anything else. Once he's as obsessed as he is with you, he'd go to hell and back to protect and love you.

And Grey Wind would be just as protective. The giant dire wolf would follow you anywhere, especially when Robb isn't able to be near you.

The two are psychically connected, so you'll have a giant wolf who will see any new and not directly trusted person as a threat. After all, Grey Wind is basically just Robb if he didn't hold himself back all the time.

Given the level of Robb's obsession, no one can get within fifteen feet of you without getting snapped at.

Still, Robb isn't all that bad. When it comes to you, he's very loving, kind, and loyal. He will never give you any reason to doubt his devotion to you.

If you ignore the number of people you know he would and has killed for you, it's actually a pretty nice time.

[randomprose]

“What are you doing?”

Guan Shan doesn’t pause as he drops a piece of stir fried carrot on He Tian’s bowl.

“Feeding you, you ungrateful dick.” Guan Shan says over a mouthful of sweet and sour fish. And then, just to prove his point, he also picks up a slice of mushroom and deposits it on top of He Tian’s rice. “Eat up.” 

“What am I a rabbit?” He Tian grouses as he picks at the different vegetables Guan Shan kept on piling at his bowl over the course of dinner. There’s not even any meat in it. “I don’t remember being a vegetarian.”

“Oh, believe me. I know you’re not.”

He Tian makes a face at the greens on his bowl which Guan Shan pointedly ignores. Beside them, Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi are fighting over the last piece of shrimp. On both ends of the table sit Qiu-ge and He Cheng quietly eating and the only ones exercising proper dining etiquette. 

Zhan Zheng Xi snags the last piece of shrimp but willingly relinquishes at Jian Yi’s pout. Qiu-ge rolls his eyes at the exchange as he reaches between them for another slice of pork feet.

They weren’t supposed to be part of dinner. The whole affair was supposed to be just for two. He Tian got a new place downtown and asked (read: demanded, made) Guan Shan come over and cook them a housewarming dinner. Ten minutes into Guan Shan bossing around He Tian to cut vegetables, the doorbell rang because somehow Jian Yi found out and wanted a free meal as usual. He bodied his way in with Zhan Zheng Xi in tow because where Jian Yi goes he goes. 

He Cheng and Qiu-ge arrived just as they were setting the table. He Tian had hit Jian Yi over the head for being a blabber mouth and didn’t want to let them in, but Qiu-ge muttered something about a burned house and a flooded bedroom as he pushed He Tian aside. He never did forget that incident the one (and only) time he bought them dinner. At least they brought dessert and wine. The good expensive kind. 

Guan Shan just thanked all fuck he followed his gut and made enough food to feed more than four.

He moves to put a piece of bok choy on He Tian’s bowl but his chopsticks get intercepted. He looks up and meets He Tian’s eyes. 

Stop. Don’t you dare.

His hand moves and drops it on the bowl anyway, delicately balancing it amidst the rice and all the other vegetables He Tian has moved around and still refuses to eat.

I dare.

“Fuck, Guan Shan. If you insists on shoving a balanced meal down my throat at least put some meat in it too.”

“Fine,” Guan Shang sighs muttering ‘picky eater, fucking child’ under his breath. “There.”

He puts a piece of chicken breast on He Tian’s bowl. Steamed. No Sauce. White meat.

He Tian sends him an annoyed smile. The glint in his eyes tells Guan Shan he’s about to try his patience some more and do something stupid.

“I’ll eat the vegetables if you feed them to me, darling~.”

He Tian says this with a sugary smile not caring if He Cheng is literally on the same table and witnessing his brother acting shamelessly. His tone is lilting with the pet name as an annoyingly cloying cherry on top, all meant to embarrass Guan Shan, he knows, but years of being exposed to He Tian’s shamlessness has somewhat immuned him to his antics. Somewhat.

This is one of those times. Guan Shan takes food and nutrition very seriously. 

“Fine.” Guan Shan picks up the piece of bok choy and puts it near He Tian’s mouth. “Open up.”

He Tian rears back as he looks at the piece of vegetable like it personally offended him. Then he looks at Guan Shan, nonchalantly but expectantly holding up his chopsticks as if feeding a child, and glares.

“Mo Guan Shan.” A warning.

“He Tian.” A challenge.

The table has grown silent as everyone watches the exchange. He Cheng sips at his wine and continues to eat, acting like he doesn’t care and pretending the scene in front of him doesn't interest him, but He Tian knows he’s waiting as well. No one has ever succeeded in making him eat his vegetables. Not the baby sitters, not the maids, not He Cheng, not even their own mother.

He Tian’s glare intensifies, feeling like a cornered animal. There’s oyster sauce dripping down the bok choy’s stem. He tries to convey a promise of wicked retribution to try and scare Guan Shan into backing down but he just meets He Tian's glare with a look that says 'If you don't eat your vegetables I will never cook for you again. Ever.' 

And He Tian can say he doesn’t care. It’s just food after all and he's got the money to eat good food whenever the fuck he wants if he feels like it. But the truth is it’s a real threat because he’s always really liked Guan Shang’s food. His cooking has truly elevated ever since he started apprenticing under a chef that own’s a famous family restaurant at Dongcheng. He’s saving up money to go to culinary school next year. Get proper professional training and get certified. When that happens, Guan Shan’s food is gonna be stupidly hella good and if He Tian doesn’t yield now Guan Shan will surely make good with his threat. He'll probably still cook for Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi just to spite him and He Tian really doesn’t want that.

So He Tian opens his mouth and lets Guan Shan feed him his stupid vegetables. 

Beside them, He Cheng stifles a smile through his wine glass. ‘Whipped’ his eyes taunts and He Tian glares at him acidly through his mouthful of bokchoy. 

Later, when the table has been cleared and they’ve all had dessert, He Cheng gets a call and he and Qiu-ge excuse themselves to leave. He Tian walks them to the door, anticipating an order or a job assignment. There usually is something whenever He Cheng gets a call that requires him to leave immediately.

“Nice wife you got there,” He Cheng comments as he puts on his coat.

A teasing instead of an order.

It catches He Tian off-guard. His eyes stray to where Guan Shan is making Jian Yi do the dishes while Zhan Zheng Xi cleans the pots and pans. He’s got a plain white apron on and a towel drying a plate Jian Yi has finished washing. He makes him redo it when he deems it not clean enough. The kettle sounds off and Guan Shan goes to turn it off. There’s three mugs with instant coffee on the counter and one with a teabag of green tea for Jian Yi.

And suddenly, He Tian is hit with the word. Wife. Guan Shan will blow his top off if he finds out he’s being referred to as such so He Tian thinks of another word. Husband. The word hits him like a freight train, heady with the images it implies. 

Fuck. He Tian will gladly be called the wife if he gets to call Mo Guan Shan his husband.

“He’s uh—Huh. Hm. Yeah. That’s—He’s…Yeah.”

He Cheng follows Qiu-ge out the door. He lights up a cigarette, shaking his head at his brother and thinks, 'Whipped'.

[nalyra-dreaming]

"... And of course there are some really juicy parts in "The Tale of the Body Thief" that Jacob commented on wanting to do with Sam :) ..."

For people who haven't read books and only watch the series. Can you please tell me what this means? And what was Jacob talking about?

Sure :) "The tale of the Body Thief" deals with Lestat spiraling and deep in depression (which leads to a suicide attempt that fails because he is simply too powerful for the sun to kill him anymore), and being presented a way out, namely a (supposedly temporary) body-switch. Which… everyone warns him not to do, of course, and which he actually does, of course.

:)

Louis and Lestat are… in a weird relationship at that point. They cannot live with each other, but not without each other, and so they live separately, but visit the other regularly. Their own chairs in the other's house, literal "Netflix-and-chill" routines, and so on. They see each other often. Louis of course warns Lestat not do that switch.

(sorry, couldn't indent or quote this, the post wouldn't save, lol)

__________________

"You're out of your mind," Louis said. "Don't be so hasty," I answered.

"You quote this idiot's words to me? Destroy him. Put an end to him. Find him tonight if you can and do away with him." "Louis, for the love of heaven . . ."

"Lestat, this creature can find you at will? That means he knows where you lie. You've led him here now. He knows where I lie. He's the worst conceivable enemy! Mon Dieu, why do you go looking for adversity? Nothing on earth can destroy you now, not even the Children of the Millennia have the combined strength to do it, and not even the sun at midday in the Gobi Desert-so you court the one enemy who has power over you. A mortal man who can walk in the light of day. A man who can achieve complete dominion over you when you yourself are without a spark of consciousness or will. No, destroy him. He's far too dangerous. If I see him, I'll destroy him."

"Louis, this man can give me a human body. Have you listened to anything that I've said."

"Human body! Lestat, you can't become human by simply taking over a human body! You weren't human when you were alive! You were born a monster, and you know it. How the hell can you delude yourself like this."

"I'm going to weep if you don't stop."

"Weep. I'd like to see you weep. I've read a great deal about your weeping in the pages of your books but I've never seen you weep with my own eyes."

"Ah, that makes you out to be a perfect liar," I said furiously. "You described my weeping in your miserable memoir in a scene which we both know did not take place!"

"Lestat, kill this creature! You're mad if you let him come close enough to you to speak three words."

__________________

(This also refers to the contested NOLA meeting right here.) Jacob called their … bickering "petty and in love". They're both not ready yet at that point.

Of course Lestat ignores the warnings and actually does the body switch, and as could be imagined the person takes off with Lestat's immortal body.

Lestat get's sick (as a mortal), and then goes to Louis to ask to be turned, so he can hunt down the thief, which then leads to one of the most raw exchanges (and iirc that power switch is what Jacob would really love to do), because Louis rejects him, though he is mightily tempted.

__________________

"I bare my soul to you and you use it against me!" "Oh, I do not, Lestat. I seek to make you look into it. You are begging me to drive you back to Gretchen. Am I perhaps the only guardian angel? Am I the only one who can confirm this fate?" "You miserable bastard son of a bitch! If you don't give me the blood . . ."

'He turned around, his face like that of a ghost, eyes wide and hideously unnatural in their beauty. "I will not do it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Go back to her, Lestat. Live this mortal life." "How dare you make this choice for me!" I was on my feet again, and finished with whining and begging. "Don't come at me again," he said patiently. "If you do, I shall hurt you. And that I don't wish to do."

"Ah, you've killed me! That's what you've done. You think I believe all your lies! You've condemned me to this rotting, Stinking, aching body, that's what you've done! You think I don't know the depth of hatred in you, the true face of retribution when I see it! For the love of God, speak the truth."

"It isn't the truth. I love you. But you are blind with impatience now, and overwrought with simple aches and pains. It is you who will never forgive me if I rob you of this destiny. Only it will take time for you to see the true meaning of what I've done."

"No, no, please." I came towards him, only this time not in anger. I approached slowly, until I could lay my hands on his shoulders and smell the faint fragrance of dust and the grave that clung to his clothes. Lord God, what was our skin that it drew the light to itself so exquisitely? And our eyes. Ah, to look into his eyes.

"Louis," I said. "I want you to take me. Please, do as I ask you. Leave the interpretations of all my tales to me. Take me, Louis, look at me." I snatched up his cold, lifeless hand and laid it on my face. "Feel the blood in me, feel the heat. You want me, Louis, you know you do. You want me, you want me in your power the way I had you in my power so long, long ago. I'll be your fledgling, your child, Louis. Please, do this. Don't make me beg you on my knees."

I could sense the change in him, the sudden predatory glaze that covered his eyes. But what was stronger than his thirst? His will.

"No, Lestat," he whispered. "I can't do it. Even if I'm wrong and you are right, and all your metaphors are meaningless, I can't do it." I took him in my arms, oh, so cold, so unyielding, this monster which I had made out of human flesh. I pressed my lips against his cheek, shuddering as I did so, my fingers sliding around his neck. He didn't move away from me. He couldn't bring himself to do it. I felt the slow silent heave of his chest against mine.

"Do it to me, please, beautiful one," I whispered in his ear. "Take this heat into your veins, and give me back all the power that I once gave to you." I pressed my lips to his cold, colorless mouth. "Give me the future, Louis. Give me eternity. Take me off this cross."

In the corner of my eye, I saw his hand rise. Then I felt the satin fingers against my cheek. I felt him stroke my neck. "I can't do it, Lestat."

"You can, you know you can," I whispered, kissing his ear as I spoke to him, choking back the tears, my left arm slipping around his waist. "Oh, don't leave me here in this misery, don't do it."

"Don't beg me anymore," he said sorrowfully. "It's useless. I'm going now. You won't see me again."

"Louis!" I held fast to him. "You can't refuse me." "Ah, but I can and I have."

_________________

…. Lestat burns down Louis' little hut after the refusal in a fit of disappointment and anger after. (Not before saving the paintings in it though coughs)

When Lestat finally gets his body back he meets Louis again in NOLA, in a church. Lestat is bitter, and jaded, Louis is just so relieved to see him.

__________________

We sat there in silence for many long moments, and then he spoke. "You burnt my little house, didn't you?" he asked in a small, vibrant voice.

"Can you blame me?" I asked with a smile, eyes still on the altar. "Besides, I was a human when I did that. It was human weakness. Want to come and live with me?"

"This means you've forgiven me?"

"No, it means I'm playing with you. I may even destroy you for what you did to me. I haven't made up my mind. Aren't you afraid?" "No. If you meant to do away with me, it would already be done."

"Don't be so certain. I'm not myself, and yet I am, and then I am not again."

Long silence, with only the sounds of Mojo breathing hoarsely and deeply in his sleep.

"I'm glad to see you," he said. "I knew you would win. But I didn't know how."

I didn't answer. But I was suddenly boiling inside. Why were both my virtues and my faults used against me? But what was the use of it-to make accusations, to grab him and shake him and demand answers from him? Maybe it was better not to know.

"Tell me what happened," he said.

"I will not," I replied. "Why in the world do you want to know?" Our hushed voices echoed softly in the nave of the church. The wavering light of the candles played upon the gilt on the tops of the columns, on the faces of the distant statues. Oh, I liked it here in this silence and coolness. And in my heart of hearts I had to admit I was so very glad that he had come. Sometimes hate and love serve exactly the same purpose.

I turned and looked at him. He was facing me, one knee drawn up on the pew and his arm resting on the back of it. He was pale as always, an artful glimmer in the dark.

"You were right about the whole experiment," I said. At least my voice was steady, I thought.

"How so?" No meanness in his tone, no challenge, only the subtle desire to know. And what a comfort it was-the sight of his face, and the faint dusty scent of his worn garments, and the breath of fresh rain still clinging to his dark hair.

"What you told me, my dear old friend and lover," I said. "That I didn't really want to be human. That it was a dream, and a dream built upon falsehood and fatuous illusion and pride."

"I can't claim that I understood it," he said. "I don't understand it now."

"Oh, yes, you did. You understand very well. You always have. Maybe you lived long enough; maybe you have always been the stronger one. But you knew. I didn't want the weakness; I didn't want the limitations; I didn't want the revolting needs and the endless vulnerability; I didn't want the drenching sweat or the searing cold. I didn't want the blinding darkness, or the noises that walled up my hearing, or the quick, frantic culmination of erotic passion; I didn't want the trivia; I didn't want the ugliness. I didn't want the isolation; I didn't want the constant fatigue."

"You explained this to me before. There must have been something . . . however small. . . that was good!" "What do you think?" "The light of the sun."

"Precisely. The light of the sun on snow; the light of the sun on water; the light of the sun… on one's hands and one's face, and opening up all the secret folds of the entire world as if it were a flower, as if we were all part of one great sighing organism. The light of the sun … on snow."

I stopped. I really didn't want to tell him. I felt I had betrayed myself.

"There were other things," I said. "Oh, there were many things. Only a fool would not have seen them. Some night, perhaps, when we're warm and comfortable together again as if this never happened, I'll tell you."

"But they were not enough." "Not for me. Not now."

Silence.

"Maybe that was the best part," I said, "the discovery. And that I no longer entertain a deception. That I know now I truly love being the little devil that I am."

I turned and gave him my prettiest, most malignant smile. He was far too wise to fall for it. He gave a long near-silent sigh, his lids lowered for a moment, and then he looked at me again. "Only you could have gone there," he said. "And come back."

I wanted to say this wasn't true. But who else would have been fool enough to trust the Body Thief? Who else would have plunged into the venture with such sheer recklessness? And as I thought this over, I realized what ought to have been plain to me already. That I'd known the risk I was taking. I'd seen it as the price. The fiend told me he was a liar; he told me he was a cheat. But I had done it because there was simply no other way.

Of course this wasn't really what Louis meant by his words; but in a way it was. It was the deeper truth. "Have you suffered in my absence?" I asked, looking back at the altar. Very soberly he answered, "It was pure hell." I didn't reply.

"Each risk you take hurts me," he said. "But that is my concern and my fault." "Why do you love me?" I asked. "You know, you've always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time." "And the pain, you want that as well?" "Your pain?" He smiled. "Certainly. I'll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say."

"You smug, cynical lying bastard," I whispered, the anger cresting in me suddenly, the blood even rushing into my face. "I needed you and you turned me away! Out in the mortal night you locked me. You refused me. You turned your back!"

The heat in my voice startled him. It startled me. But it was there and I couldn't deny it, and once again my hands were trembling, these hands that had leapt out and away from me at the false David, even when all the other lethal power in me was kept in check.

He didn't utter a word. His face registered those small changes which shock produces-the slight quiver of an eyelid, the mouth lengthening and then softening, a subtle clabbering look, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. He held my accusing glance all through it, and then slowly looked away.

"It was David Talbot, your mortal friend, who helped you, wasn't it?" he asked. I nodded.

But at the mere mention of the name, it was as if all my nerves had been touched by the tip of a heated bit of wire. There was enough suffering here as it was. I couldn't speak anymore of David. I wouldn't speak of Gretchen. And I suddenly realized that what I wanted to do most in the world was to turn to him and put my arms around him and weep on his shoulder as I'd never done. How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet. I didn't do it.

We sat there in silence. The soft cacophony of the city rose and fell beyond the stained-glass windows, which caught the faint glow from the street lamps outside. The rain had come again, the gentle warm rain of New Orleans, in which one can walk so easily as if it were nothing but the gentlest mist.

"I want you to forgive me," he said. "I want you to understand that it wasn't cowardice; it wasn't weakness. What I said to you at the time was the truth. I couldn't do it. I can't bring someone into this! Not even if that someone is a mortal man with you inside him. I simply could not."

"I know all that," I said.

I tried to leave it there. But I couldn't. My temper wouldn't cool, my wondrous temper, the temper which had caused me to smash David Talbot's head into a plaster wall.

He spoke again. "I deserve whatever you have to say."

"Ah, more than that!" I said. "But this is what I want to know." I turned and faced him, speaking through my clenched teeth. "Would you have refused me forever? If they'd destroyed my body, the others-Marius, whoever knew of it-if I'd been trapped in that mortal form, if I'd come to you over and over and over again, begging you and pleading with you, would you have shut me out forever! Would you have held fast?"

"I don't know."

"Don't answer so quickly. Look for the truth inside yourself. You do know. Use your filthy imagination. You do know. Would you have turned me away?"

"I don't know the answer!"

"I despise you!" I said in a bitter, harsh whisper. "I ought to destroy you-finish what I started when I made you. Turn you into ashes and sift them through my hands. You know that I could do it! Like that! Like the snap of mortal fingers, I could do it. Burn you as I burnt your little house. And nothing could save you, nothing at all."

I glared at him, at the sharp graceful angles of his imperturbable face, faintly phosphorescent against the deeper shadows of the church. How beautiful the shape of his wide-set eyes, with their fine rich black lashes. How perfect the tender indentation of his upper lip.

The anger was acid inside me, destroying the very veins through which it flowed, and burning away the preternatural blood. Yet I couldn't hurt him. I couldn't even conceive of carrying out such awful, cowardly threats. I could never have brought harm to Claudia. Ah, to make something out of nothing, yes. To throw up the pieces to see how they will fall, yes. But vengeance. Ah, arid awful distasteful vengeance. What is it to me?

"Think on it," he whispered. "Could you make another, after all that's passed?" Gently he pushed it further. "Could you work the Dark Trick again? Ah-you take your time before answering. Look deep inside you for the truth as you just told me to do. And when you know it, you needn't tell it to me."

Then he leant forward, closing the distance between us, and pressed his smooth silken lips against the side of my face. I meant to pull away, but he used all his strength to hold me still, and I allowed it, this cold, passionless kiss, and he was the one who finally drew back like a collection of shadows collapsing into one another, with only his hand still on my shoulder, as I sat with my eyes on the altar still.

Finally I rose slowly, stepping past him, and motioned for Mojo to wake and come.

__________________

It's all… very emotional and very raw.

The power dynamics are inverted. There is history between them. Petty and helpless love, too. Desire, passion, anger, love, hate, you name it.

Just thinking about Sam and Jacob doing this gives me the shivers.

(As a side note, we have "artful glimmer in the dark" here as a description for Louis, calling back to "spark in the dark".)

Louis moves in with Lestat (and David) once more after this, into the renovated Rue Royale.

It's where he lives until the events after Merrick, after which they abandon Rue Royale, and Louis goes to Armand to New York for a while until the court is created in the Auvergne.

[beautiful-basque-country]

Hi, I love your blog! I wanted to ask you, about why Spain seems to not respect basque names? It jumped to my curiosity after you brought up the french pronunciation of as Basque name in the olympics! I'm sure there is a seasoned history for why, but when tried to google it, I wasn't quite sure how to find any info that satisfied my curiosity! I'd love even some recs to find information too!! Sorry if it's an odd request or bothersome! I hope you have a great day <3

Kaixo anon!

Eskerrik asko for your question.

There might not be a clear, absolute answer though. As far as I know, there isn't any study wanting to understand or explain why Basque names and toponymy are so disgusting-tasting in some Spaniards' mouths.

I can give you some characters from my very own experience and conclusions, though, but take them with a grain of salt and don't consider this anything close to science:

- the not bothered (neutral version): some people just learned the Spanish names of our places and that's how they've always heard them. Quite surely they live far away from EH and to them those towns are just terra ignota, no matter if their name is Spanish or Basque. They probably won't ever visit EH and can't see an issue in this.

- the not bothered (evil version): I'd dare to say most commentators belong to this kind. They're veeeery good at saying German surnames, English ones, French ones, Russian ones, you name it. However, their tongue twists when faced with a Basque name; a language that, 99% of the time, follows Spanish pronunciation rules. Forget Roanoke, the Mary Celeste or Amelia Earheart's fate: these guys are the biggest mystery out there.

- the Crusaders: some others may also ignore the Basque name, but even if they don't, the won't use it. It goes against their political beliefs: the language of Spain is Spanish, and all places and people should be called by a Spanish name. Using a Basque name, a Catalan, Galician, Arabic, Chinese name is not acceptable: since all those people are in Spain, they must have a Spanish name all Spaniards can say comfortably.

- the PhDs: these ones are Crusaders but dressed up as cultured people. They will lecture you on how they solely use Spanish names because they say Londres and not London or Jerusalén instead of Al-Quds, see? Or they use San Sebastián instead of Donostia because its use has been documented since the 15th century, so saying Donostia is a modern invent backed by a political agenda they won't be fooled into doing, nu-uh.

- the very frightened: these ones shiver at the word "Basque". OMG IT'S SO DIFFICULT AND HARD TO PRONOUNCE!!!! ... Oteiza or Aduriz look pretty tame to me and still you can't say them correctly... IT'S BECAUSE THE WORDS ARE NEVERENDING!!! LOOK AT THEM!!! ... But Bilbo has literally less letters than Bilbao, same case with Hondarribia and Fuenterrabía... SOOO DIFFICULT I'M HAVING A STROKE OMG!!!

[tj-is-down]

Squire Squabble (pt. 1) Podrick Payne x reader

So, I wrote this fic in 2022 and it's been sitting in my Google Docs ever since. Enjoy it! There's a Part Two that I'll probably post tomorrow.

Summary: Pod and Brienne meet one of Brienne's old acquaintances while traveling, and Pod does not get along with the man's squire.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, maybe? I can't remember. But I know that's really it. Also, most of my fics are gender neutral, but this one is written with a feminine reader in mind. Sorry!

Pod and Brienne sit in a tavern at nightfall. Pod is eating quickly and hungrily, having not eaten anything since the day prior. His fault, really, messing up the fire and forgetting to skin the rabbit and--well, it’s best not to get into it all. Brienne, he notices, isn’t eating, despite having eaten the same amount as he has in the last twenty-four hours, which is none.

“Are you not going to eat, my lady?” He asks, mouth full of food.

Brienne doesn’t answer, instead continuing to glare in the direction of another table behind Podrick. He goes to turn his head, but is stopped by Brienne.

“Don’t you dare,” she grunts, freezing him in motion.

He slowly turns back to face her. “What are you looking at?”

“Not what,” Brienne clarifies, “who. In this case, Ser Carac McLane of Tarth.”

Pod waits for her to continue, confused. “Who?”

“We grew up together,” Brienne says, “and he tormented me every day of my life. Everything I did, he had to be better. Learned to fight before me--because he’s a man, of course--and he’s never let me live it down. He thinks that age somehow triumphs over experience and skill--two things I have, and he doesn’t. He’s arrogant, ignorant, and classless. And that’s not the half of it.”

“How long has it been since you’ve last seen each other?” Pod asks, taking another bite. “Perhaps he’s changed, or--”

“People like him aren’t ones who change, Podrick,” Brienne interrupts. Her face suddenly drops. “Shit. He’s walking over. Stop eating, and sit up straight. Don’t give him any reason to critique you. Podrick, I said stop eating!”

How am I supposed to swallow this if I can’t chew? Pod thinks, yet he doesn’t have another second to resolve his issue before they are approached by Ser Carac, along with a younger individual about the same age as Pod.

Brienne stiffens, moving to stand up, but Ser Carac waves her off. “No need for formalities, Brienne of Tarth. We’re past that by now, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so, Ser Carac of Tarth,” Brienne responds. “This is my squire, Podrick Payne.” She gestures to Pod, who nods his head, mouth still full of food. Ser Carac nods in his direction, yet his companion doesn’t, instead choosing to half-smirk at him, seeing right through his facade. He glares back at them, trying to be as menacing as possible. He realizes, however, that it’s entirely useless, as he looks like a chipmunk with his mouth full of food.

“You’ve a squire now?” Ser Carac asks incredulously. “I never thought I’d see the day you reached such a high rank. This is Y/N, my squire.”

 “What brings you to this area?” Brienne asks. “I’d have thought you were retired, old as you are.”

“Might I remind you, I’m not much older than you,” Carac states.

“Your lack of hair could’ve fooled me,” Brienne replies. Podrick nearly spits out his food holding back a laugh. He’ll have to commend Brienne for that later.

Both Carac and Y/N look over at him, Y/N shooting daggers at him. Carac, however, seems to ignore it, instead turning back to Brienne.

“Well, as much as it was a pleasure seeing you, we must be off.”

“Don’t choke, Podrick,” Y/N says,harshly patting him on the back before turning to walk away. Pod starts coughing, the food getting stuck in his throat. He quickly gulps from his cup and turns back to glare at Y/N. They’re looking over their shoulder at him, half-smirking. 

Pod decides at this moment that he dislikes them. Immensely.

“Told you,” Brienne says.

* * *

Pod and Brienne are long beyond the tavern now, about a day’s journey out. The sun is concluding its descent, and the two have decided to stop for the night, when they see the faint orange glow of a fire coming through the trees.

“Should we see about that up there?” Pod asks.

“Well, seeing as you can’t start a fire for shit, there’s no harm in joining those who already have one going, is there?” Brienne replies.

Apparently there was harm in joining those who already have a fire, since those happened to be Ser Carac and Y/N, who seem to have just begun to make camp.

“Lady Brienne, what a surprise!” Ser Carac says, although he seems more annoyed than surprised. “I didn’t know you were going this way. We could have traveled together. Although, I know how much you enjoy your beauty sleep, despite its lack of effect. I, on the other hand, wake up with the sun.”

Brienne rolls her eyes, ignoring his comment. “Would you mind if we joined you, Ser Carac? I would hate to intrude.”

“Too late for that,” Carac mutters. “But since you’re here, please, join us.”

Pod and Brienne dismount their horses, tying them up to a couple of nearby trees. Y/N stares at them as they do so, eyes following their movements. “Lady Brienne,” they say, nodding their head. “Podrick,” they add, suddenly stone cold and straight faced.

He doesn’t reply, instead taking a seat across from them by the fire.

After an hour or so, Carac speaks up. “I’m getting tired. Y/N, Podrick, make up our tents, won’t you?”

The two nod, getting up to do as he says.

They walk a short ways away from the fire, making sure they’re within eyesight but far enough away that they’re hidden if anyone sees the fire from afar and comes to attack them. Now that night’s fallen, it’s too cold to be without fire, regardless of the dangers. Pod and Y/N work silently, a wordless agreement that despite their dislike for each other, putting the tents up together is much faster than doing it alone. They put the first two up effortlessly, but when it comes to the third, things all come crashing down--literally.

Pod pulls a piece of fabric from the pile at the same time as Y/N, who then attempts to take it away from him. He pulls it back towards himself and Y/N does the same, resulting in a competition tug-of-war. After a moment, they hear the sound of the fabric tearing, and sure enough, the cover is ripped in half.

“You ripped the tent,” Y/N shouts, angry and nervous at the same time. “And now I’m going to have to answer for it.”

“That’s because it’s your fault,” Pod retorts. “You pulled too hard on the cloth, not me.”

Y/N scoffs. “Are you joking? You’re the one who pulled too hard. And I don’t appreciate--”

Pod speaks up, interrupting. “Now, that is not true, and I don’t appreciate--”

Before long, the two are in a brawl, shouting over one another and shooting daggers with their eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Brienne says as she and Ser Carac approach the pair.

“Your squire ripped the tent,” Y/N and Pod say to Brienne and Carac at the same time. They glare at each other at the realization.

“We’ve lost a tent?” Brianne asks rhetorically. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. Are you, Ser Carac?”

He shakes his head. “I am not.”

“Well, then. That settles it.”

“I’m not sleeping on the bare ground,” Y/N says, turning to Pod and crossing their arms. “Be a good squire, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” Pod laughs. “You’re the one who ripped the tent, you should be sleeping on the ground.”

“You can’t be serious, I--”

“Both of you, sleep in the tent,” Ser Carac interrupts. “Or you can both sleep on the ground.”

At the sight of their faces, Brienne smirks. “And we don’t want to hear another word from either of you about it. That’s an order, Podrick.”

“You too, Y/N,” Ser Carac adds. With that, the two disappear into their tents.

“Since when did those two get along?” Y/N mumbles, staring after them, while Pod starts gathering the leftover materials for the last tent. He gets a fair bit through before catching Y/N’s attention.

“What are you doing?” They whisper to him, careful not to get the attention of either Brienne or Carac.

“What does it look like? I’m making up the tent.”

Y/N shrugs. “Have fun. I’m sleeping out here.”

“No, you’re not. You heard them, Y/N. Either we both sleep out here or we both sleep in there. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather a roof over my head, however thin.”

“I don’t care what orders we have, Podrick. I’m not sharing a tent with you, and I’d rather lose my hand like Jaime Lannister than sleep next to you out here.”

“Lucky for you, that can be arranged,” Pod grumbles. “Now, I’m serious Y/N. Come on. I’m not getting in trouble because you’ve decided to be a spoiled princess about this.”

“A princess? Me? Please. If anyone here’s acting that way, it’s you. Why does it matter where I sleep?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

Pod rolls his eyes before continuing. “We’ve been given orders, Y/N.” He grabs their arm and tries to pull them toward the tent. “Come on.”

Y/N pulls back. “No.”

“Y/N, please, I won’t do this all night--”

He pulls harder, but Y/N loses their footing and falls onto him, toppling into the tent.

For a minute Y/N is frozen on top of him, shocked at the quick change in position from standing up to laying down. They feel the warmth of his breath on their face, and his eyes flicker quickly to their mouth before meeting their eyes again.

“All right, Princess,” he says, slowly rolling Y/N off of him. “Off you go.”

“What did I tell you about that nickname?” They reply, exasperated.

“When are you going to realize that it doesn’t matter to me what you tell me?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You might think you’re royalty, but you aren’t. You’re a squire, just like me.”

“Believe me, I’m nothing like you.”

“Thank the gods. Now, go to sleep, will you? I’m tired.”

* * *

Pod is still awake a while later, though he’s not sure how much time has passed. Y/N shakes and stirs, clearly attempting to not make a sound. They are unsuccessful.

“You’re keeping me up,” Pod says monotonously. “Go to bed.”

“I’m cold,” they say, and Pod hears them turning to the other direction. The two are facing outward, away from each other, about a foot apart. There isn’t much space for anything more than that, since the tent is so small. The temperature has dropped drastically in the night, and although Pod has a coat, he can still feel a chill in the air.

“Aren’t you from the North?” Pod asks.

“So? I’ve not a coat, Podrick. A wolf would be cold in this weather.”

“Well, I’m not giving you my furs,” he grunts. “Then I’ll be cold.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Y/N continues to toss and turn, not caring whether or not they keep Pod awake. Why must they make him suffer just because they are?

After a moment Pod lets out an irritated sigh, and shuffles over. At the feeling of his body behind theirs, Y/N stiffens.

“What are you doing?” They ask him.

“Getting you warm. I need sleep, Y/N, and I won’t very well get that with you moving around every ten seconds. Now, come on, move closer.”

They wait a moment, he assumes in order to process his words. He’s not gotten along with Y/N since their meeting the day before, and he knows they’d rather not give in to anything he says or asks, but at this point he also knows they’re too tired and cold to care. They scoot backwards a half an inch, seemingly satisfied with the positioning as Pod wraps an arm around them. He tries to keep his face away from theirs, but eventually gives up and rests it in the crook of their neck.

“This means nothing,” Y/N asserts, stating matter-of-factly.

Pod doesn’t buy it, though. He feels their heart beating and their breath evening, giving away the comfort and ease they feel in the position you two are in. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

“I hate that nickname. And I really hate you.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

You are getting me intrigued about Bladeweave, and i want to know your thoughts on:

A) Do they get a pet together? (The correct answer is yes)

B) Do you imagine them like, in a specific Bladeweave universe, or like canon-ish one, but like after the Hell Trip?

C) Do you think Tara and Wyll team up to make sure Gale doesn't forget to take care of himself and then Tara teams up with Gale to do the same to Wyll?

D) What do you think Wyll's father thinks of Gale?

Also feels weirdly nostalgic to be on your asks

omg hiiiii beloved. first of all finish the damn game 🔫 second of all damn i missed your asks 💕

in order:

A) they get a frankly ridiculous amount of pets but neither of them will admit it because they're the "they're not my pets, i just feed them" kind of mfs. i mean, that's canon on gale's end but we all know wyll is just as bad if not worse with the whole "hm actually animals are fully fledged individuals who belong to no one but themselves and only a tyrant would wish to conquer them and reduce them to something to be owned and,"- bullshit.

(also, honestly? after being called a pet and a pup by mizora for so long, the last thing he wants is to be reminded of her. and considering how in wyll origins he says his biggest fear is to become the devil he was made to look as, i think it'd be highly triggering for him to say anything at all that sounded like it could've come from her mouth, even in a completely different context. so, no, he'll never have "pets", he'll have loyal animal friends whom he feeds and takes care of and who live with him and always come back to him but they're not pets how dare you)

gale is more of a cat/tressym person, and of course tara is gale's friend first and foremost and wyll and her mostly bond over their love for gale. wyll however has no discrimination when it comes to species and i mean none. he'll show up at the tower or wherever else they live all like "hey gale so hear me out" and it's just as likely that he'll have a cat, a dog, a pigeon, a horse, or a crocodile in tow. gale just sighs and goes magic up whatever sort of specialized environment their new tennant will need because he knew what he was getting into when he married Literal Disney Princess, got-speak-with-animals-as-a-cantrip-out-of-a-devil-deal Wyll Ravengard. those are mostly wyll's friends (not pets, the dekarios-ravengard household is completely pet free, ignore the first 10 levels of the tower) but they also get along well with gale too. he makes them tea when they to to their area upstairs for a chat or whatever

B) usually the canon universe, yes. i mean it's fully possible to have a canon run without ever even meeting karlach so it's not like i'd need a fully fledged AU if I didn't wanna include the going to hell part (plus other ending possibilities im not spoiling you about). but also i feel like gale is the kind of stupidly self sacrificial mf who would go to hell with wyll and karlach if that's what it takes, both to be with his love and because karlach does deserve to live and be safe. and he knows that he can help try to look into arcane solutions for her heart. and if anyone understands having a ticking time bomb in their chest and needing support to grow back hope that you'll be able to live without it being a risk, and deserve to, it's him. wyll's saved him from his own time bomb; he would never deny karlach the same sort of redemption, especially when she got in that situation through no fault of her own

so, yes, i can imagine him joining them, even if not 24/7, and trying to help with her heart before they come back. and then we can have bladeweave and karlachzel (? what's their ship name called man) or Fucking Whatever lol. i mean part of the appeal of wyllach to me is that i feel like it makes 0 difference whether it's platonic or romantic, so i can see a platonic helping each other in hell before we can go back to our respective baes sort of situation

C) duh. tara and wyll have a whole routine they've executed to perfection for when gale is having a bad depression day, or a bad back/joint pain day, or an orb flare-up day, or whichever other flavor of disabling situation gale faces (semi-)regularly. tara is both relieved to have someone else to take care of him (both so she gets room to take care of herself as well and just from knowing that no matter what, someone else has gale's back) and pleased to see that, at least as far as depression days go, gale has been having those less and less. not because true love cures all or whatever but because now gale has a significant support network with all the tadfools, plus with the orb stabilized he doesn't have to fear going out, seeing his family, and making friends anymore. nothing is perfect or cured but slowly and steadily he's been building the kind of support net that allows him to breathe and keep himself alive more easily, you know

as for wyll's own disability days, tara is kind of slow to trust and even slower to show said trust. naturally she would always be there to support them both when wyll needed, if anything because it mattered to gale. but it was mostly supporting gale while he supported wyll at the beginning, because she was still wary of anyone who could potentially break her wizard's heart and make him even more fragile

also, he kind of waltzed into her house and then started bringing dogs. yuck.

but wyll is nothing if not explicitly and selflessly loving of gale and completely polite and respectful of tara's boundaries, which means he earns her love faster than any other humanoid ever has. so at first she was kind of tsundere about it - trying to hide her concern when wyll was having PTSD episodes by being kind of focused on gale, being a bit snarky (although never in a mean way), that kind of thing. over time though she fully gave up on pretending and became very involved in helping him. nothing like having a tressym purr to help pull you out of a flashback, or having someone to pet during a depression day, etc.

she is also one of the few people who always keeps in mind that wyll is not, in fact, fully sighted. whenever they go somewhere new or something changes in the layout of the tower she always helps him figure out clues to make up for his lack of depth perception while he's getting used to the state of things. gale also has a tendency to clutter and leave his stuff everywhere when he's particularly invested in a subject so she always makes sure to point out to wyll if there's anything in his path. especially when they're in waterdeep, she always takes the lead when they're walking through crowds, helping make the way so wyll won't bump into anybody by accident. with gale she's more of a supportive friend/housemate but with wyll she goes full on service animal without him ever asking. neither of them ever say anything about it but when she starts doing it wyll knows that he is, officially, part of the family. and most of all, loved

(and they take care of her too, of course. with food and pets and help when she's in pain or sad too. gale is aware that he put quite a heavy load on her when she was literally the only thing keeping him alive after the orb, and wyll is endlessly thankful to her for making sure he was cared for during that time. so they make sure she has all the resting and support she needs, and she is, quite frankly, the most spoiled tressym in the sword coast. wyll also went to ridiculous lengths to make sure everything in their tower was accessible for a non-opposable-thumbs-haver, especially the wizardy stuff because tara is, as gale said, a fine wizard on her own right)

also, sometimes she kneads the bases of wyll's horns when they hurt or feel particularly heavy, physically or emotionally, and it's really cute

D) difficult one. i kinda struggle to imagine ulder having a good relationship with any of wyll's partners, considering he... like... didn't even have a healthy relationship with wyll lol. so he'd probably be distant and kind of strained, but as far as partner choices go, i feel like gale is some of the best he could be hoping for among the tadfools. he is smart and can be charming, and he thrives with older people tbh. ulder wouldn't be a fan of the fact that he's the wizard-living-in-a-tower stereotype and has never really gotten his hands in the mud, so to speak, but gale is respectful, polite, interesting to talk to, intelligent, compassionate, and honorable and ethical to boot, which i think ulder would see as more important. also, he obviously loves wyll, and there's not much more ulder can ask of a partner, especially after he himself failed to provide wyll the love he needed for so long

so i believe he'd like him, although they'd never really be close. the real question though is what gale would think of ulder, because while i think he would be nothing if not polite to him, especially since he knows how much he means to wyll, i also think gale would be playing 5d chess to subtly insult his parenting skills at every opportunity. he is way too nice to be explicit about it but the way he keeps going for the softest, most subtle and hidden of stings, can be more devastating than calling him a bitch. ulder will suddenly realize that two weeks ago gale implied that he was a dumbass, and given that he only noticed that afterwards, he feels like he was probably right. it keeps him up at night sometimes, trying to figure out if gale lightly insulted him or was genuinely just commenting on the weather. the fact that it drives him mad only makes it all the more satisfying to gale. wyll has no clue this is happening at all

this got long and far too detailed but I won't apologize cuz what did you expect really. anyway i love they

[rreskk]

TROUBLE CONCEIVING LUST

-A/N: I lowkey rushed cos my laptop is dying, so apologises if grammar sucks (and spelling!)

Summary: You met this guy through mutual friends and he had to be the most... Interesting... Sexy?... Unusual man, ever. Playing a "spin the bottle" game ended drastically. You couldn't help yourself, and neither could he.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 5777

NORTH YANKTON — 2002

“Who are these fine babes?”

You looked up from your empty glass of booze. A night out with some friends was almost at it’s end until one of your friends, Amanda, decided to bring along her “friend” who’s name was Michael. He mentioned 2 other guys coming, 2 faces you aren’t familiar with.

Smiling softly, you stared ahead at this middle-aged man who’s hair was blonde and slicked into a pony-tail. He was quite chubby but tall, a big lad. He was the guy who spoke first, his eyes drifting from girl to girl. There was a sense of excitement behind his gaze as Michael, the one you were briefly familiar with, spoke.

“This is Brad,” His hand signalled to the blonde guy you were just looking at before noticing a taller, much slimmer man behind them both, “And this is Trevor.”

You instantly made eye-contact with this stud. A shabby mullet, all wild and untamed. His hair was brown, a dark, chocolate brown (to be exact), and so was this stache. It was a fairly groomed moustache that really brings out his intense eyes. You couldn’t help but inspect this stranger with every detail you could find… That goes from his eyebrow scar to this gauntly, sickly grin he had. It was abnormal and different. You’ve never seen a man so rugged, scary but also striking.

You both held strong eye-contact before he was torn from your gaze and upon the rest of the group.

“How are you, Trevor?” Amanda asked with an informal tone; sounding rather disinterested, almost irritated at this guy called Trevor.

And the moment he revealed his voice, you had opened your mouth with fascination. The rawness and deep, taunting, grainy voice – it was glorious – you’d be able to sit and listen to him talk for years straight. However, a few words in, you’ve came to the conclusion that he was from the North; Canada. He had this Canadian tongue that was quite hard to miss.

“Splendid, Mandy. Don’t you have a nightshift, ay? It is a Friday.” He grinned at her, teasing.

“I took the day off.”

“Oh!” Mocked Trevor, “I thought money was an issue?”

Amanda glared at him. This guy was definitely a menace.

“Trevor leave her alone. Come introduce yourself, you too Brad. We’ve got – “ Michael had named every girl before approaching you, “ – and this is [y/n].”

“How’s it going, [y/n]?” You were surprised that he had asked you a question. His deadly eyes stared back at yours.  

“I’m fine.”

“Mm… Nice evening?”

“It’s been nice, yes.” You nodded your head.

“Michael mentioned you before,” He looked at you up and down, “Pleasure to meet you, at last.” He held out his hand and you could proper visualise his rough, veiny skin.

You proceeded to shake his hand, the contact so electrifying that you couldn’t even dare yourself to look into his eyes. It felt forbidden to feel such strong emotions for a man you just met.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Trevor.”

Trevor gave you a wink as everyone began to chat amongst themselves. He had left the conversation with intensions of annoying his buddies who were trying to decide on a “friendly, fun game” to end the night. They all took chairs and sat around the already crowded table. This guy, Bradley, was already smoking up a joint as Trevor eagerly took a hit before pouring himself some whiskey that Amanda didn’t finish. He ignored her protests and just downed it in one, throwing the bottle aside as it rolled off onto the floor.

“Jesus, Trevor! That was mine!” She complained and looked at Michael for support, but he was too busy pouring a pint of beer. 

“Chill, old girl. It was just a sip.”

“A fucking sip? You drank it all! That cost me a good few notes!”

“Woah, correct yourself, it costed Michael a good few stacks,” Trevor grinned at her, “Team effort, Mandy. Thank us.”

“Fuck you, Trevor.” You watched as Amanda refused to look in his direction.

“Maybe a few more shifts at the strip joint and you can afford the cheapest here.” He continued to torment her.

Mikey had distracted him before he could bully her too much and they all had an open discussion at the table. You ear-dropped their conversation and heard all sorts of ideas that consists of sexual imagery – most coming from Michael’s buddies – not Mikey himself.

“What’s wrong with sexy truth or dare?” Bradley seemed disappointed when his idea was turned down.

“Dude, it ain’t right. Why not a simple drinking game?”

“God… Amanda, what have you done to M? He’s a boring old prick now.”

“Shut up, Trevor. I’ve saved him from your psychotic ass!” And her backtalks were incredibly entertaining. It left you smiling giddily before Trevor caught your amusement, and he frowned. He didn’t like how you found joy in him being humiliated.

So you dropped your head and pretended to adjust your black dress, hoping to avoid any confrontation from this… Man. Somehow it made your stomach coil, not in a good way. These guys didn’t look as promising as Amanda painted them.

“I vote spin the bottle!” Brad announced.

“And what? Shots?”

“You know damn well, Mikey. How about kisses, blowjobs, handjobs?”

“Shut up, T.”

“Trevor’s right, dude.”

Michael groaned, “Shut up, Brad – Fuckin’ fine… Kisses then, but nothing else… Don’t be creepy, yeah?”

Your friends, including Amanda, seemed content with this game of spine the bottle, but you? Mixed feelings. You only just met these 2 guys and they are already demanding the group to participate in some high-school, drunk college game. You just knew that they had a rough idea to bring someone home, especially that one guy, Trevor.

Speaking of Trevor, he caught your sights again and smirked. You’ve noticed that he’s barely given any of the other girls attention. He didn’t even say hi or smiled at them – yet he seemed extremely curious about you. It felt dangerous.

“So we’ve got three chicks and three studs, yeah? Where’s a bottle we can use?” Brad inquired.

“Jesus, are you blind? Look around you, B. The table is filled with bottles.”

He responded to Trevor, “Shit man, they still have booze in them.” Both of them began looking around the table until they noticed your almost empty bottle. Bradley tilted his head and gave you a sickening grin.

“Are you gonna finish that, darl?”

You noticed Trevor wince at the pet name. He sent a glare to his friend and clenched his jaw.

“I – “ Feeling pressured, you just pushed the drink towards them, “No. You can, uh, have the rest.”

“Mmm… Thanks, babe.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bradley.” Your man of interest muttered before pouring the remainder of alcohol into a random glass.

Michael had rubbed his hands together in addition to the game beginning. He was sat beside Amanda, obviously making it known that they are two peas in a pod. It seems as they didn’t mind playing as an “unconfirmed” relationship, but you knew they wouldn’t take it as far as one kiss.

“Who’s going first?” Your other female friend asked.

It was getting late so the bar was slowly decreasing in population. Soon enough, you were the only table left behind. The jukebox was playing some late 80s rock and roll, a big throwback to the past. You listened to it through the background noise of Brad’s booming voice.

“I’ll go!”

He leaned forward and spun the bottle. Everyone watched with anticipation. You heart began beating. It was slowing and you gulped, thinking it was gonna land in you. Not wanting to kiss this man, you prayed to God. You sat tight and held your breath before it landed on Trevor.

The table began to laugh as Brad scowled with embarrassment.

“You fucking kidding me, bro?” He mumbled.

“Go on then!” Michael laughed, his arm around Mandy’s shoulder.

Trevor, unlike his friend, was smirking. He turned to face Bradley and gave him a mocking kissy face, waiting.

“T, stop it man. This is weird as fuck!”

“The longer you wait bro, the longer I’m gonna smooch the life outta ya.” He teased his buddy.  

This only made everyone laugh louder. You chuckled here and there until it all died down and Brad was left with no choice. He squeezed his eyes closed and speedily pecked Trevor’s lips. You saw it barely touched.

“Come on, man. You’re such a pussy.” T would roll his eyes.

“Shut up. Just… Carry on, goddammit!”

You were sat next to Brad, so it was your turn. Everyone looked over and gave you words of encouragement. You found the confidence to lean over the table and spin the bottle. You studied how fast it spun. Your heart was beating rapidly, you could feel your pulse breaking. It was nerve-wracking. The bottle was slowing down and it stopped. You followed it���s gaze and realised it pointed to your friend. She giggled.

Luckily it wasn’t… him.

“Ohhh…” He was the first to speak, “Mmm, I see how it is. Come on, ladies. Bring it on…”

You both ignored Trevor. Your friend adjusted her chair so she was facing you and held in a laugh. You did too. At least it was nothing awkward, more humorous. You decided to beat the clock and gave her a small kiss on the lips. She erupted in giggles, holding onto the table for support. The tension finally eased after your first go. It made you think this game wasn’t so bad.

“That was hot.” Murmured that raspy voice.

“Trevor, shut up. No creepy shit.”

“Whatever, Mikey. It’s your turn.”

Michael grumbled something you couldn’t hear and spun the bottle. He sipped his beer and waited for it to stop, and when it did, it was pointing at Bradley. The table was in hysterics.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” The blonde man was in disbelief, “I have to kiss another dude?”

“Just my luck, hm?” Mikey said to Amanda before she urged him to do it, for the games sake.

Trevor clapped his hands, oddly excited to see his two friends kiss in front of him. You’ve been observing him and the way his eyes lit up, them pupils dilating when the game proceeds. He was definitely aroused. You could tell.

“C’mon you guys!”

“Trevor, bro, just shut up!” Brad whined. He shook his head and leaned across the table, closer to Mikey who was also hesitant. They cringed before kissing for a split second and moving away from each other straight after.

You covered your mouth and chuckled.

“You are both fuckin’ pussies!” Trevor cried with distaste, “That weren’t even a fuckin’ kiss!”

Amanda rushed to her boyfriends rescue, “It’s your turn! Go!”

“Oh? You want some, Amand?” He grinned at her.

“Don’t be disgusting, Trevor.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine, my turn.”

And then your heart only grew more unbearably nerved. His red, bruised hands spun that green bottle. He was right opposite you as well so you saw that concentrated stare in his rugged face. The way he leaned down to spin, some hair strands fell in his face, giving him a really pirated look…

He bit his lip and impatiently waited until it stopped.

You felt your whole body grow paraylsed. That neck, that tip of the damn bottle was facing you. It was just your luck, your VERY luck.

“Oh?” That cat-like smirk grew more perverted, “Look who it is, [y/n]…”

Looking into Trevor’s eyes felt like a Deathwish on it’s own. He was eye-fucking you so hard, it made you shiver. Them cold, dark, brown eyes. They were unmatched, so scary, so intimidating.

“I guess it is.” You slowly spelled out.

“How come Trevor gets the hot chic – “ Bradley’s face was suddenly muffled by Trevor’s hardened hands. He didn’t even look away from you though. He kept his sights fixated on you.

“You’re a lucky girl, [y/n].”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” He murmured and stood up. His lean figure hovered over the table; his efforts to be closer. This was pressuring enough to make you meet him half-way, but when you tried, he was already pining you against your seat.

The group all watched as Trevor practically climbed over the table just to meet with you. Desperation depicted his sly grin. Them cruel fingers had wrapped themselves around your wrists, trapping you.

“You ready?” His voice purred in your ear.

“Oh my God, stop being a freak!” Amanda was disgusted. She exchanged glances with Michael who was equally as disturbed.

Trevor raised an eyebrow and gave her a side eye, “You wished Michael was this intense and romantic, Mandy. Don’t even start.”

“Excuse me? – “

“You heard me. Now shut up while I give [y/n] a kiss, yeah? That’s a great idea, ain’t it?”

Everyone was dead silent before he returned his attention to you and sighed in your neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Anyways, let’s continue the game, ay?” He licked his lips and stared down at yours.

His breath stunk of alcohol, weed, cigarettes, and… Weird metal? You didn’t even want to know. He was bizarre, completely out of your league! You’ve never seen a guy so unpredictable and manic. However, a part of you found it admirable. Inhaling deeply, you gave him what he wanted and kissed his lips.

For you, it lasted hours. Trevor kissed back with passion, his tongue wasting no time and forcing itself into your mouth. You thought to yourself for a brief second; it was only supposed to be a kiss? Why are you letting him passionately make out with you? Why are you enjoying it? At this point, he was properly pushing his weight onto your chair, his shoulders hiding you from everyone’s sights as his face was smashed against yours. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around them masculine shoulders and keep him close, your hands mindlessly tugging at his mullet until someone had separated you both from any further “activities.”

“Fucking Hell, T!” Michael pulled Trevor away from you, both your lips swollen and red.

“What?” He asked breathlessly, “We were just kissing?”

“Kissing? You were eating each other’s faces!”

“You wish you were me, Bradley.”

“Okay, okay, uhh! Can we just… Carry on with the game? From what I last remembered, it’s my turn.” Amanda tried her best to convert the awkward situation. She waited as Trevor walked back to his seat, a look of disappointment on his face after being separated from you.

She placed her cup down and spun the bottle. Michael was watched intently, clearly growing a bit nervous in case she had to kiss either Trev or Brad. He hoped it would be him.

“C’mon, c’mon…” He’d unconsciously hum out loud.

The bottle stopped and you bit into your tongue. It landed on you again.

Amanda chuckled softly and shrugged, “I’m thankful it’s you, [y/n], and not them two chumps.”

“Woah, watch your tongue!” Brad winked. She returned the wink. You had sensed some sort of tension between the two, and so did Michael. He looked at them both, his face growing angered.

You decided to step in and avoid any conflicts.

“Okay, I guess we have to kiss, Mandy.”

She glanced away from Bradley and nodded. You felt Trevor’s eager eyes as you two both kissed and giggled afterwards. Amanda kissed your cheek in a friendly manner before returning to the game.

You had made eye-contact with him again and he smirked. His lips were still swollen but this time, there was a predatory danger behind his pupils. He pointed to your black dress and made a sexual had gesture of a penis and pussy. Your cheeks grew red. The childish flirting actually made you flustered? What has this man done to you…

“Okay, I guess it’s my turn again.” Brad mused.

“Woah, woah – “ You interrupted, “You missed Michael. It’s his turn.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Go ahead, Brad. I don’t care.”

“Too scared to kiss me, Mikey?” Trevor pouted playfully.

“If I kissed you, I’d catch STDs.”

“Mmm… Not from what I rememb – “

“Okay, Brad go.” Michael quickly disengaged his friend from confessing something that had quickly caught your undying attention. Not from what I remember? You smelt something fishy between them two, but decided not to ask any further questions considering the game was still playing.

Bradley spun the bottle and bounced up and down in his seat. He looked hopeful this time. He was had his fingers crossed.

“Strain anymore and you’re gonna shit yourself.” Your other friend joked, earning a small laugh from Michael.

“Don’t ruin my strive, girl.” He whispered and went wide-eyed when it stopped. The person it face was revealed to be Amanda, and Michael’s amusements fell into despair.

“What?”

“It’s just a kiss, Mikey.” Brad mentioned. It wasn’t helpful at how casual he felt about kissing his friends darling.

“No, not Mandy.” He refused.

“Let her have some fun – “

“Wait… You have the hots for her?” Michael was beginning to get more enraged, “Dude, that’s my fucking girlfriend! Amanda? What the fuck is this? Trevor, bro?” He looked at Trevor with pled.

“What? I don’t know what’s fuckin’ going on.” He huskily uttered from the opposite side of the table.

“Mikey, it’s nothin’! It’s just a kiss!”

“Bradley, I swear to fuck! – “

“Michael!” Amanda held onto his shirt, “Just sit down, please! You are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? Amand, he’s a fucking chump!”

You played around with the green bottle as the game was probably ruined now. Nonetheless, you looked at the clock and decided to leave sooner than later. Whispering to the other friend, you told her about leaving soon and she agreed. The three of them were still fighting; the tension growing, so you stood up and began to collect your things.

Trevor was daydreaming until he’s noticed you stand. He tilted his head and gave you a small frown.

“Where you going, [y/n]?”

You gave him a small smile, “I’m gonna go soon and catch a taxi home.”

“Nah, nah…” He immediately stood as well and rushed over, “Don’t leave me. Can I catch the taxi with you? I ain’t driving back with these pricks.”

“Where abouts do you live?”

“Uhh… I’m renting this motel room with the boys.”

You were holding your leather jacket before he grabbed it and placed it back onto your seat. He sounded more needy now.

“Don’t leave right now. We can sit in one of those booths at the back and get some drinks on, ay?”

“I’d love to, Trevor, but – “

“C’mon… Don’t leave, not after what happened,” He gave you a knowing smirk, “I don’t like pretty girls playing with my heart. I wanna… Get to know you more.”

And you knew exactly what he meant. From the way he was staring down at your dress, it was super clear what he was referring to. You were fluttered. You shouldn’t be though, from what you saw earlier, he was a nutjob.

But he was dashingly irresistible. You studied his facial features again and reintroduced yourself with his scars and classic 70s porno stache. Then you remembered the feeling of his mullet between your fingers. He had oddly soft hair despite the balding and split-ends. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was handsome.

“You like what you see?” He caught interest in your staring.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t apologise. I like it when you look at me.” Trevor whispered and stepped closer. He sneakily outstretched an arm to fit around your waist. He ogled your figure again before tugging you closer so your chests were touching. He had to look down (due to height difference), and he smirked.

“You’re a sexy piece of work. If them cunts didn’t stop me, your dress would’ve been ripped off by now.”

God damn, is what you thought. He was extremely bold and confident. It was too attractive.

“You like that idea?” He purred against your forehead.

Suddenly, the background noise of arguing had disappeared. You were too focussed on Trevor that your whole world, right there, revolved around him.

“Mhm…” You nodded.

“Atta girl. You know, from what I can see, you’d be the hottest on top of me.”

“On top?”

“Yeah, babe. Don’t think I can’t see that fire burning from beneath your eyes. You got that power, I felt it before, I wanna feel it again.”

“Oh God…” You exhaled, your stomach burning up with arousal.

“I’m gonna be honest, [y/n], I won’t make it back at my motel…” Trevor admitted with a grin. His free hand moved to his growing bulge, groping himself.

“Can’t you now?”

“Yeah, ma’am, I can’t.” He growled in your ear.

“Oh, you’re calling me ma’am now?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

You chuckled softly, “Nothing…”

“It sounded like you were complaining.” His grip around your waist tightened as he began moving you both towards the booths.

“I weren’t complaining.”

“Good,” Trevor lets go before jumping onto the leather seats and lying down, “C’mere…” He made grabby hands, his boner visible for you to see.

You hesitantly crawled onto his lap until he grabbed your hips, helping you get comfortable. You sat inches away from his boner and smiled down at him. He seemed to be enjoying your weight.

“Are they still fighting each other?” He’d lowly ask.

To answer his question, you peeked out of the booth and saw them still at each other’s throats.

“Yes, they are.”

“Goodio…” Trevor grabbed the straps of your dress and dragged it down your arms, your chest being exposed willingly. He’d giggle like a child when you were seen without a bra. Your tits were inches away from his face and he began licking the nipples.

You held in a whimper, “Are you sure they won’t see us?”

He didn’t respond. He ripped your dress off fully and yanked you so you were practically lying on him. Your breasts, already caked in his saliva, was suffocating his face as he licked and nibbled every ounce of your skin. The warmth of his tongue made you chew your inner mouth to restrain a moan.

“I knew you had a smashing body under that dress, I could sense it.” Trevor finally murmured, moving his way up your chest to your neck. He smothered your neck with hickeys and bite marks.

“Oh God…”

“You sound perfect, ma’am,” He pressed a kiss against your jaw before unzipping his flies, “I want you. I need you, so bad.”

You straightened your back and sat on his crotch as he freed himself from those jeans he wore. The moment you saw his cock, you traced your fingertip over his tip. Length never mattered to you, so it really didn’t surprise you when he wasn’t big. Trevor didn’t seem to care either – it was attractive.

“Say yes to me.” He pled, staring through his eyebrows.

“What happens if I say yes?” You decided to tease.

His dick twitched at your taunts.

“I want you to ride me, [y/n]. Ride me – “

“Manners?”

He groaned, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Did your mother not teach your manners?”

Sensitive topic, it made him wince and pout. Trevor stayed silent. You noticed how he refused to look at you in the eye. All his confidence dropped when you mentioned his mother. He just continued eye-fucking you and caressing your breasts.

“Trevor?” You broke the silence.

“[y/n],” The way he slurred your name, “Fucking ride me. I ain’t gonna ask twice.”

“But you already asked me twice…”

“You’re starting to piss me off, sugar. Don’t fuck with me.”

“You’re asking me to fuck you.” You pointed out. While in heat, you warmed up his erected cock with your hands. Whether you were prepared, Trevor arched his back and groaned heavily. You didn’t realise how sensitive he was, especially from a handjob.

“Oh, yes… Yes, I like that,” He panted, “Keep going, keep going!”

You grinned and used this for your advantage. He was vulnerable. You pretended to stroke his cock before raising your palm and slapping the tip.

His back arched in pain, “FUCK!” Trevor roared.

You did it again; seeing the same reaction.

“Fuck, oh yeah! OH, SHIT!” He was a hot mess. Every time you slapped his length, he’d only squirm and moan like no one else was in the room. Wrong. People were in the room, but you weren’t bothered anymore. Maybe this crazed guy was more fun than you thought. If only you knew how whiney he was before the game, you wouldn’t be too nervous around him then.

“Take your top off.” You ordered softly.

“Ah… Ah, uh?” Trevor glanced up, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, “My top?”

“Yes.”

He breathed in and out heavily. You had to help him take off his leather jacket and shirt as he was left shirtless, for your taste. He had a hairy chest, quite skinny but oddly muscular. However, the beers he had that day made his stomach bloated so you were greeted with a small, hairy pouch. You trailed your finger across it, using your nail, making him whine and whimper.

“Ohhhh, you’re fuckin’ with me…”

“You wanted me to.”

Trevor glared lustfully at you, “Jesus… You’re too fuckin’ hot, [y/n].”

“Just lie back. You wanted me to ride you, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I want, I want! I want! Gimme! – “

“Shush.” You pressed a finger against his wet lips.

Trevor raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. Authority wasn’t his cup of tea, yet he seemed content to follow your commands. He scratched his stache before lying down and holding onto your hips, ready.

“I hope they see this though…” He’d cheekily oppose as you sat down onto his naked lap, his boner painfully fucking your clit.

You nibbled your bottom lip and closed your eyes. You grabbed his penis and used it to cause friction against your clit until you were both squirming against each other.

“Nah, stop… Stop fuckin’ edging me!”

“Easy… Easy…” You’d attempt to calm him. Trevor was growing breathless already. He was arching his back, grabbing the table, jerking his hips up; he was doing everything he could to resist your playfulness.

“Oh, fuck… Nah, do it, please. I won’t be able to last, [y/n].”

You took his words for granted and sat down, your crotches interacting. Once he was fully fucking your insides, volume didn’t seem like a boundary. You’d moan his name and begin to bounce.

“Oh! Yes, God, you’re so fuckin’ wet!” Trevor heaved and migrated his hands from your waist to your jiggling breasts. He squeezed them like a squish toy, making ungodly sounds, varying from grunts to outrageous gags.

“Trevor, ah!” You held onto his wrists and bounced faster.

“Ma’am, ma! – “

“Shit, fuck… Mhm…” His cock would bury itself deeper after he allowed you to dig into him. You couldn’t believe you were having sex with him, you just met him a few hours ago? Comparing his appearance from the second you met him, his mullet was draped in sweat, his dark eyes were dazed and unconscious, his stache was ruffled from the intense kissing. To cut it short, he was ruined.

And it was your fault.

“Yeah, yeah! Oh yeah!” Trevor whined, “C’mon! Give it to me! Your cunt is so fuckin’ sexy, oh yeah!”

You swore the room gotten more quiet as Trevor’s moans echoed. Nonetheless, you ignored it while riding him because the sensation was heavy. It felt like you needed to cum already. Your stomach was dominated with butterflies and Trevor’s cock was furiously twitching and pulsing.

You’d peer down at him with a honest, pleasured smile. Your tongue sat on your bottom lip until it was confirmed that you were climaxing.

“Oh fuck…”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in your pussy!” Trevor – as per usual – was expressive. He kept you riding him as you both choked out some groans, your orgasm meeting with his. His dick loaded an impressive ton of cum inside your cunt, the spillage making you whimper his name.

“Shit, shit…” You breathed.

“More, more!”

“Oh God, okay.”

He sat up and stared at you with a perverted smirk.

“What?” You’d frown.

“Sit on my face.”

“Huh?”

Trevor used his strength and lifted you up from his lap and crawled under. You gasped when he was directly under your cum-soaked pussy. You felt his eyes stab Hell into it.

“Fuckin’ sit on me, [y/n]…” He growled, hands clasping your thighs.

The booth seats were rattling when you lowered yourself onto him. Trevor was still lying on the leather seats, forcing you to hover over his face. Of course, you used the table beside you for stability and in front of you was the whole bar. It was empty, calming your thoughts after the anxiety that more people would come by for a few beers.

“Gimme a piece of your fuckin’ cunt, ma’am.” Was the last thing Trevor muffled before stuffing his mouth into your abused pussy. His tongue, so unreally long, licked up the traces of his own semen after he had filled you up.

You squirmed and gripped onto the table. Your tits were hanging, his handprints marking red bruises all over your chest and neck (not forgetting the amount of hickeys).

“Oh, fuck…” You gulped and looked over your shoulder as you heard rubbing noises. Trevor was jacking himself off when face-fucking you. He was brutal. You watched him interrogate his poor cock like it was replaceable.

“Argh!” He muffled a cry in your cunt.

“Trevor, oh my! – “

You turned around again and went wide eyed when you noticed the group.

They were still there.

“Trevor, they are here – FUCK!” He dismissed your concerns by tongue-fucking you to death. You pathetically moaned, accidentally making eye-contact with Michael who was disturbed beyond belief.

They all grabbed their things and headed towards the exit. You watched in guilt, but at the same time, you were too aroused to care. You began to grind against Trevor’s mouth. His moustache had left rashes upon your thighs and flaps. It was burning hot, it was making you overstimulated – beautifully overstimulated. You wanted more to feel, more to cum to.

“Oh, yeah! Trevor!”

Bradley was the last to leave. Unlike the others, he smirked and gave you a wink. It was an uncomfortable gesture. He was as weird as Trevor, in that creepy way, and you knew when you finish and part ways, he’s going to get questioned about… Your “activities” that they had accidentally walked in to.

“Fuck! Oh yeah!”

You constantly looked over your shoulder to see him orgasming many times. There was a puddle of semen on his stomach. His sensitivity had made him cum when you sat on his face. He had cum when jacking off. He had cum to the thought and feeling of you. It was hard to hear him orgasm considering he was being strangled by your pussy, but in a way, you’d feel his tongue shake with anticipation.

“I- I’m gonna…” You pushed harder against him, “I’m gonna cum!”

Trevor was crawling under your skin, his tongue was torture to your poor cunt. He wasn’t gentle at all. He was beating you to a pimp until you came.

And it was a drastic, messy, unstainable orgasm.

“FUUUUCKK!” You sobbed and trembled.

He licked up the cum that drained into his mouth. He slurped, you heard this, and he slurped again, and again, and again.

“Oh… Oh, my God…”

Trevor’s tongue departed from your sex before pressing hot kisses in your inner thighs, freeing himself from between your legs. He gasped for the fresh air and stared up at you. There were drooled, white liquids oozing from his lips and chin. He grabbed your jaw and pulled your head down, kissing your lips. You tasted your own cum and moaned. Trevor passionately made love to your lips until he pulled away and ruffled up his mullet.

“You tasted like heaven on a golden platter, ma’am…” He giggled dazedly.

You followed the way he tangled up his hair and reached over, stroking it. You draped your fingers across his scalp.

“Mm…” Trevor murmured and closed his eyes, “That’s nice…”

“I like your hair.”

“Oh yeah? I like your tits.”

“Ahh…” You chuckled and felt him knead them with his bare palms again.

“And your pretty little face…”

“That was intense.”

He giggled, “Oh, you’ve seen nothin’ ye – “

“Trevor!” A loud voice interrupting your conversation. Brad was at the bar exit, his face bored, “Bro! C’mon! You finished your little fuck-fest. The fucking taxi is here, hurry up already!”

Trevor glared at Bradley as he crawled out of the booth, putting his cock away and throwing on his shirt again.

“Fuckin’ Bastard…” He whispered to no one in general before helping you zip up your dress and made you look… At least punctual when seeing the rest (who’s shamefully experienced your momentary sex).

“We were long.” You smiled.

“Yeah, but I wanted more time.”

“We will soon.”

Trevor winked and nudged you, “You bet your ass…”

You made your way out of the bar and was greeted with the uncomfortable atmosphere. Mikey was sending stares of Satan at Trevor while Amanda was biting her lips, trying to ignore what she saw.

“I’m here. Now what?” Trevor muttered grumpily.

“Excuse me, ma’am…” You went wide eyed when Brad used the term “ma’am”, almost tormenting you both, “Would you like a ride home with us?”

“Bradley, I swear to fuckin’ God, I’ll kill you.”

“I can’t believe you said ma’am during sex, bro!”

Trevor went to punch him until Michael held him back. He effortlessly held onto the collar of his jacket before the taxi finally arrived, and by then, you decided walking was safer than… A carpool with these heathens.

“You aren’t joining us?” Amanda asked, sitting in the front.

You shook your head.

“No, rephrase that… You ain’t coming?”

“Brad!” T shoved his friend into the car before crawling inside after him.

“Go say goodbye to your madam!

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You heard him scream, then he rolled down the windows and winked, “My motel room is down the main-road West… Show up any time, sugar.”

“Trevor, get your own room! We share that room!” Michael protested.

“Pussy…”

“[y/n], is Trevor’s dick small?” Brad tried to shout over the noise of the engine.

“FUCK OFF, CUNT!” Trevor battered him again.

“Jesus Christ… Get home safe, [y/n].” Mikey muttered before their taxi drove off, leaving you embarrassed, excited…

And fucking sore.

[gurathins]

24 and 26!!! Micro fic time!!

YEAAAAA THANK U <3 i know it says micro fic but. well. it's a bit longer than that. also something that happens a few hours before this :3

24: tender & 26: how dare (you)

summary: Klara gets worried that Toby's not answering her messages and decides to go investigate what's going on along with her coworker, Jay.

warnings: implied capture, implied murder

"It's not answering the messages."

"Oooooh, you sound worried. Do you have any specific reason to worry?"

"How dare you to even imply something like that?"

"I'm just kidding, just kidding," Jay looked at the front mirror and noticed Klara glaring at him, "I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he paused for a moment, before adding, "Can you please watch the road now?"

"Hmmph."

"But, I'm sure it is fine. I mean, maybe it's just walking back home? Or taking a longer public transport trip?"

"Tobias might rarely ever care about its leg problems but it's not so stupid to walk ten kilometers to our apartment. And it does use its phone on walks," Klara said, "It likes to look up things it sees outside for fun. And tell random facts about them."

"Well, hm... maybe it's just enjoying a bit more coffee than he was going to?"

"I don't know. But I have a bad feeling," she muttered and stopped the car. "Do you have access to all the active protocols in projects?"

"There's different kinds of them? Hang on, let me see," Jay took out his tablet and opened the table. After scrolling for a moment, looking for the filters or onformation, he closed the device and shook his head. "Only the public for all workers ones."

Klara stared out of the window for a moment, then suddenly hit the steering wheel with her hand, while yelling, "Fuck!" She took a deep breath and leaned on the wheel. "Ugh. Okay, hm. Can you check how far the cafe is from here? Like, do we have time to stop by for a moment and see what's up?"

"Sure. It's a... six minute ride! I'll drop the coordinates to the car," he swiped the file on his screen, "And, well, I'm sure Sarah will understand if we're late from the meeting. It's not like she can handle everything by herself."

"God, thank you so much," she pressed on the screen to switch gps on and continued to drive.

---

The cafe had barely any people there, with two middle-aged men sitting outside on the terrace and a few others inside. One of the men winked at Jay and the other one giggled a bit as he and Klara entered the cafe.

"Excuse me, hi!" Klara waved at the barista, "Can you help me with something?"

"Sure," they nodded and leaned closer, putting the towel and the half-wet cup on the counter, "Can I get you something?"

"No," she said quickly, before Jay could say something else, "Have you seen this person?"

"I am sorry, but answering this goes against the cafe's privacy rules."

"I have this person's permission to know."

"I am sorry, but answering this goes against the cafe's privacy rules."

Jay smirked. "Well, you could skip the rules, this one time?"

The barista looked at him for a moment, before replying, "I am sorry, my programming does not allow me to," they paused for less than a second, and continued with a recording of Jay's voice, "'skip the rules.'"

Klara covered her face with her arms. "Why did they make the robots obey laws so strictly..." she muttered, and quickly glanced at Jay opening his mouth to reply, "Not even a word about robot uprising."

The robot stood quietly for a moment, before asking, "Can I do something else for you?"

"I'll have a cappucino," Jay said, ignoring Klara's glaring, and waved his wrist in front of the counter. "12 universal credits... How does you wife have money to hang out here so often."

The barista smiled and said, "Got it, be right back!"

Klara looked at him. "If you even think about getting into my car with a cup of coffee-"

"Don't worry, don't worry, I'll drink it here. Though, I did see an empty smoothie cup beneath the passenger seat."

"That was Toby's frappé, actually."

"Ah, of course it gets to ignore the rules," Jay thanked the barista that gave him his cappucino, and continued, "Wait, why was it under passenger seat?"

"Won't you want to know that, you nosy litt-" she stopped mid-sentence. "That table outside. That's its leather jacket on that chair."

Jay followed her outside and stopped by the table. "Maybe it forgot about it?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Tobias would never forget its favorite jacket."

The two men sitting by the other table looked at them. One of them, the one with a red scarf, and who originally winked at Jay, asked, "Are you two looking for something?"

"Huh?" Klara stared at them for a moment, "Un, yeah. How long have you been sitting here?"

"Since the morning!" The other man said, "We're celebrating Peter's," he pointed at the man with red scarf, "divorce here. And seeing how many people he'll manage to stop and talk to by winking. That's how Petey met his spouse. I'm Mark, by the way."

"Speaking of, does this one count?" Petey asked and frowned a little when his friend shook his head.

"Uh, alright, um. Have you seen this person?" Klara showed them a photo of Tobias, "Um, without the cat, though. I'm pretty sure it left her home."

"Oh, hey, we sure did!" Mark nodded. "Short little butch, right? The one with these big brown eyes with this...tender gaze. And a smile. You remember the one, right, Peter?"

"Ooooh yeah! It had this fluffy white sweater on a blue shirt. I complimented the sweater and it said that it actually belongs to its wife. That it likes wearing when it's feeling anxious or sad. Its wife must be a lucky gal."

Klara felt a lump in her throat and hugged the jacket tighter. "Do you, um- Can you tell me what it was doing here?"

Mark nodded. "Sure! First it stopped by to talk to us, then it went inside to get a latte-"

"And a cookie!" Peter added.

"Right. Or maybe two cookies, even. Anyway. Then it went to sit by that one table and waited. What book was it reading?"

Peter had almost answered when Jay intereupted, "A bit less details, please. We're in a hurry."

"Well, okay then! Where was I- oh, right. It was waiting by the table until this man, strawberry blonde hair, greyish eyes. Had this blue jacket, like that one corporation's ads. The one that does all kinds of meds."

Peter muttered, "I think it does more than meds."

While Mark answered him, Jay leaned to Klara and whispered, "That sounds like Archie, the guy whom Samuel appointed as the new lead chemist on the project."

"Makes sense. Tobias said that it needs something from its friend at work."

"Now you don't think it's collecting evidence. do you? You know what that mea-"

Mark cleared his throat. "Ahem. The guy went to get iced tea first, then came back and sat next to this person you're looking for. They seemed to have a friendly chat. We didn't really listen to, but I did hear some talk about 'files' and 'project'."

"Your doe-eyed buddy also got a bit twitchy when the blonde arrived," Peter added, "it looked here and there every now and then, and paid a lot of attention to sudden noises."

"Please, it was like that even before that guy arrived. And did you see its big eyebags? Definitely made me believe into the 'anxiety' part."

Klara sighed. "Right, okay, hang on" she picked up an empty glass on Tobias's table, standing next to a cup with some latte still in it, and a half eaten cookie on it. She pushed away all the thoughts that tried to offer all the worst case scenarios explaining why they weren't finished, poured some water and drank the whole glass. "Alright. Let's get the most important question answered. When did they leave?"

The two men looked at each other. "Three hours ago, probably?"

"The robot didn't notice they left because of the jacket and never ended up taking their dishes away," Peter added while looking at the table.

"How did they leave?" Jay asked.

"Well, this person you're looking for, it said something like it's feeling sleepy or weird-" Mark began.

Peter interrupted him for a moment. "Actually, it said it was feeling strange."

"Yes, anyway. This other guy offered it to stand up and take a few steps, maybe that would help."

"Well, it did that and almost fell! Good thing the tables are sturdy, or else it would've fallen face first on the asphalt."

"Uh-huh. The blonde offered some help for it to stand up. As your person was muttering something about barely feeling its legs, or, hell, everything, a black car drove next to the cafe."

"A black car?" Jay asked, "Do you remember the car's license plate number?"

Mark looked up, then shook his head. "No. But it had this dark red stripe. And a red poppy flower."

Klara muttered something to herself and Jay asked Mark to continue.

"At first your buddy got a bit scared at the car, but the blonde man seemed to somehow calm it down and got it in the car."

Peter snorted. "I'm not actually sure he calmed it down. Looked more like the doe-eye was on a verge of losing his conciousness."

"Don't be ridiculous, Petey, why would it? It was probably just sleepy. It's not like we witnessed a corporate hostage situation or anything."

Klara and Jay exchanged glances. "Wow, okay. Thank you for your help," Klara managed to say and took out her phone. "Are you staying here for longer?"

Peter nodded. "Uh-huh, we still have two hours before the cafe closes at eight."

"Okay, well," she typed a small amount of money on the screen and stretched out her hand. "Here's for a few more cups."

The old man smirked and waved his wrist against hers. "Always happy to help, ma'am."

"Yeah. And good luck with finding this person of yours," Mark smiled.

"And happy divorce say to you," Jay murmured and waved them a good bye.

Klara and Jay walked back to the car.

Klara placed the leather jacket carefully on the passenger seat and stared at it for a moment, until Jack's voice brought her back from her thoughts. "You do know what this all means, right?"

She nodded, ignoring the feeling in her stomach. "We need to get to the lab building."

"Why do you think they are there?"

"The labs have a specific kind of nanobots that effectively gets rid of all kinds of biological substances," she explained, "Officially it's to make the scientists' lives better. In practice it also makes it easier to deal with some problems that occur, of which the corporation doesn't want others to know. Technically it's also against the corporate rules but no one bats an eye unless you complain to internal affairs."

"When you say problems, you mean something like whist-"

"Do not say that out loud."

"God, sometimes you're even more paranoid than your wife."

"It's good to have similar hobbies with your spouse."

"But you do understand what kind of status Tobias has right now?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Klara muttered, "Come on, let's go there. We're half an hour late from that meeting anyway. And call Mabel, please."

"Why?"

"I need to complain to internal affairs."

-------

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