#this kind of interaction is what makes him interesting.

[sterpernie]

Probably no one will read this, but I hope someone will. To my fellow Americans, it is absolutely fair to cut people off for beliefs you disagree with and may one day lead to you suffering harm, but if you have someone you love with these beliefs that you are thinking about cutting out of your life, please consider a few things first.

1. We are living in echo chambers, repeating our beliefs back at us. If we don't interact with people who believe differently, how are they ever going to hear a different perspective that is not completely twisted by the media they consume?

2. They often don't understand what they are asking for. There is a sizeable minority (1/3 of Americans per the NYT) that do not know Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act (ACA) are the same thing. They want to repeal Obamacare but keep the ACA. People want tariffs not realizing that they aren't the same as sanctions. They don't realize that China is not going to be paying the tariffs, they will. China is not going to eat the costs of the taxes (tariffs) levied against them for exporting to the US, China will just raise the prices of their goods and probably levy tariffs against US exports to China in retaliation like they did during Trump's last term, resulting in everything getting more expensive. It it pretty striking to look at the education demographics of who voted what party.

3. They don't get the whole story. There was an immigration bill that would give the Republicans basically everything they wanted in regard to the border. Trump killed it because he wanted immigration to remain an issue for him to run on. My dad, who listens exclusively to right wing media, heard nothing about it. He was shocked it didn't pass when he was told. When he hears about Palestinians, he only hears about them referred to as terrorists and Hamas, attacking Israel unprovoked. He has never heard about the Nakbas or about how terrible the conditions were in Gaza even prior to October 7th.

4. A scary amount of Americans have no damn clue how the US government works. They think, abortion protections were repealed under democrats, so it's their fault despite the extensive groundwork laid by Republicans ever since Roe v Wade was initially decided in the 1970s culminating in a Republican supermajority on the Supreme court that actually overturned the ruling. They think, why am I paying taxes to forgive someone else's student debt when I didn't go to college/payed off my college loans/worked my butt off for scholarships/made sacrifices so I could afford college/etc, not realizing that the debt forgiveness is really just making sure the programs that were already in place are actually implemented instead of allowing the loan servicers to continue milking these people for cash long after their debt should have been forgiven. They think the economy and how good/bad it's doing is solely up to the President despite the fact that the purse strings are held by Congress and the Federal Reserve, which controls interest rates, is an independent body not controlled by the President.

5. For the immigrants, they don't realize that all immigrants are persona non grata, not just people who came to the US illegally. My immigrant mother told me she votes for Trump because he's "gonna stop all the immigrants who are coming to take our jobs", not realizing that despite her naturalized citizenship, she will always be seen as one of those immigrants she talks about. She doesn't realize when he talks about chain migration, he's talking about the system she took advantage of to bring multiple members of her family to the US and allowed them much better quality of life than the relatives still in her home country. She thinks, because she lives in a large urban coastal area, that all parts of the US are just as accepting.

If you have a loved one with whom your only problem is politics (not abuse of any kind, but someone you love and care for), please consider staying in their lives. I am not saying make friends with people to try and change their beliefs, I am saying give your loved one a face to put to the "radical libs".

when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part three

1999:

Walking into a hair salon was an interesting experience. Pulling into an overly stuffed parking lot in futile anticipation of being in and out “in a decent time.” opening the salon door and walking into a room overflowing with peering eyes full of a mixture of both curiosity and judgment that covers you from your head to the bottom of your favorite shoes. Slinking down into chairs that go from stuffed and comfortable to hard as steel while waiting for the appointment that was due more than an hour ago. Out bursts of group laughter, “girllll, no she didn’t!” and “say what now?!” coupled with the familiar smell of hair sheen spray and neutralizing shampoo that seeps through the fog of sporadic steam that fills the air from the super-wattage, neck-burning hair dyers, steamers and marcel ‘top of your ear frying’ irons, reminds you that this is going to be long day.

Aaliyah Noelle Davenport sat in an unoccupied salon chair within a popular salon in Baton Rouge called Gina’s. Gina’s had been around for over ten years. The pages of her coloring book she was currently scribbling in with old crayons kept her busy so she wouldn’t go snooping around like last time. She burned her fingers touching a curling iron heater.

“He’s back home…coming to pick Aaliyah up in a few…”

Aaliyah’s mother, Rochelle, was currently doing a roller set on a client. She worked the rollers around thick strands of hair with her long, curved, golden nails. Rochelle was a hard working woman. She did hair and worked night shifts at a local motel to pay the bills. Anything to make up for Aaliyah’s father being in prison for six years.

She was the epitome of 90s fine: Rochelle embodied a beauty that was both timeless and undefinable, leaving a permanent imprint on anyone that crossed her path. Her unique blend of elegance, confidence, and charisma inspired and resonated with Aaliyah. That kind of fine isn’t just about looks — it’s about attitude, style, and an effortless grace.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you. Money can't make you anything…only your actions can make you something. Money can buy you things that make life easier but one thing it can’t buy is happiness…”

“Girl, stop acting like you ain’t happy he back home...”

One of her mother’s friends and fellow stylist, Donna, was flipping through one of many hair catalogs the shop owned.

“The less he know the better,” Rochelle added the final touches before she walked her client over to the hooded dryers, “It was one time, that’s it…”

“Rochelle, if you don’t calm your fucking nerves. He won’t ever find the fuck out if you don’t hush!”

“Okay, okay…shit–that’s him coming up right now. Aaliyah?”

“Mhm?” Aaliyah mumbled from her seat while coloring in a teddy bear.

“Your father is here…come on and get ya stuff. He’s gonna take you back to the house while I finish up. C’mon, little girl!”

Aaliyah frowned and pouted her lip while packing away her crayons and coloring book.

“Fix that face. You got homework to do…”

She climbed down from her seat and slipped her Barbie book bag over her shoulders. A candy painted Donk with shiny rims slowed to a stop outside of the salon and Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she recognized her father’s low–cut ceasar with the deep waves. He shut his door and strolled over to the entrance of the salon with swagger.

Roland Davenport AKA Pressure. He was a smooth cat from Baton Rouge with a nefarious past and a deep love for his daughter. Aaliyah was his entire world.

“Is that my little girl! What’s up, Princess!”

He scooped up his six year old and spun her around. Aaliyah giggled joyfully while clinging onto her father’s crisp white tee. His skin was the deepest brown and blemish free. He flashed his pearly whites at her before giving her a kiss to the forehead. Roland put Aaliyah down and then he made his way over to Rochelle.

Aaliyah watched her parents hug each other affectionately. Their lips connected with a gluttonous passion. Roland’s hands roamed down to cuff Rochelle’s dump trunk and she squeezed his bulging biceps in return.

“Stop! Stop…I’m with a client…”

“How long ya gonna be, baby? I was thinking ‘bout taking my favorite girls out to eat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rochelle grinned flirtatiously, “Where to?”

“It’s a surprise…”

Aaliyah’s parents talked for a few more minutes before her dad led her out of the salon hand in hand. She skipped along the way. Roland opened the back door and took her back pack so that she could buckle in.

“Daddy, I wanna sit up front.” Aaliyah protested with her sweet little voice, “Please?”

“Liyah. You can’t sit up here today. Maybe next time, okay?”

Aaliyah hung her head before fastening her seatbelt. Roland made his way to the drivers side and climbed in.

“How was school today?” Roland questioned, staring back at his daughter through the rear view mirror.

“Good.” Aaliyah flashed a grin with no two front teeth.

“That’s not what ya momma told me…”

Her smile disintegrated.

Aaliyah fiddled with her pleated, khaki uniform skirt. She avoided her father’s gaze, afraid he’d appear angry and she would be in big trouble.

“Look at me, Liyah…”

She did as she was told, staring up at her father.

“I’m not mad. You had every right to defend yourself. ‘Dem lil’ boys won’t mess with you again after what ya did…”

Aaliyah had been dealing with constant bullying from two little boys in her first grade class. They would pull her long plats, kick the back of her chair, call her names, and other cruel things that always resulted in her crying in the bathroom.

“Now if these lil’ niggas wanna have kids of their own someday, they better leave my daughter alone or I’m putting foot in ass…”

Roland made a silly face at Aaliyah and she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh.

“How ‘bout we make a pit stop to grab a snowball?”

“YAY!!!” Aaliyah cheered, her little arms up in the air like she’d just had a victory lap.

Roland cranked the radio, Sho Nuff by 8ball & MJG blasting through the speakers. Aaliyah could feel the seat beneath her vibrate. She watched her father rap the lyrics, a sudden gush of humid air flooding the car when he let the windows down. Roland extended his arm from the window to greet people he knew, the Chevrolet Impala Donk slow gliding through the hood.

They pulled up to a snowball stand that was situated next to a bowling alley and roller-skate rink. Rolland turned his music down before looking back at Aaliyah over the headrest of his seat.

“Which flavor?”

“Georgia Peach!”

“Aight, munchkin. I’ll be back…”

Roland climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Aaliyah peered out of the open window, her eyes following her father’s retreating frame. What she hadn’t noticed, however, was the way an all black Escalade crept up, all four doors opening in unison.

Everything went in slow motion.

Repeated muzzle flashes sparked the air like it was the Fourth of July.

RAT–rat-rat-rat-rat!!!

Her scream pierced the air.

——

Those memories flooded Aaliyah’s mind that Wednesday morning. She’d woken up in good spirits, ready for her Ethics and Psychology class and a lunch date with a special someone. After showering, Aaliyah slipped on a pair of light grey leggings that molded into her hips, thighs, and booty. She paired it with a fitted, white T-shirt and low top Vans. Glasses on, messy hair pinned back with a claw clip, she threw on a denim jacket and collected her school bag near the front door.

Before she could even leave, a hard, booming knock on the storm door of her Shotgun House caused her forehead to wrinkle with surprise. She paused for a second before walking up to the door. Aaliyah brought one dark brown eye to the peephole.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Aaliyah flinched.

“Aaliyah! Open the door! I know you’re here!”

It was her junkie mother.

She didn’t look like herself.

Acne, dull skin, and self-inflicted wounds from picking at her face. Needle marks and collapsed veins from shooting up.

Rochelle was unrecognizable.

One look at her, and all the trauma from her youth flooded her mind. After her father was shot down, Rochelle went into a deep state of depression. She lost her job at the salon, and the pay checks from her motel job didn’t keep the bills paid. Rochelle had no choice but to seek help from a man. Any man that was willing. She sent Aaliyah away at the age of ten for a few years to live with her estranged grandmother, Ruby. Ruby was a strict, Christian woman with no tolerance for misbehavior or rebellion. She lived in a different Parrish in rural Louisiana, closer to Shelby Springs.

Aaliyah was made to do yard and farm work. She had Bible studies on weekends and couldn’t hang with many children because their parents weren’t ‘Godly Folk’. The only thing Aaliyah really enjoyed was horseback riding whenever her grandmother would visit a church friend. When Aaliyah was nearing fourteen, she started sneaking out to see an older boy. Word got around and Ruby lashed out on Aaliyah.

“I didn’t have sex with him! We were just kissing!”

Aaliyah wailed, hands raised to brace herself from her grandmother’s blows.

“You’re just like your mother! Can’t keep your legs closed! Don’t lie to me, Aaliyah! I know you slept with that boy!” Ruby shouted.

She couldn’t stay there any longer. Aaliyah called her mother that same night, begging her to come get her. Rochelle drove an hour out and when Ruby opened her door, Rochelle shoved past her mother.

“You put your hands on my child?! You evil bitch!”

Aaliyah watched from the top of the stairs with her packed bags. Rochelle and Ruby were in the middle of a screaming match.

“You asked for my help, remember?! She lives under my roof, she abides by my rules!” Ruby argued.

“But did I ask you to beat on my child?! Just the same ol’ shit with you! I can’t even rely on you to be there for my daughter—”

“OH! Now look who’s talking. You couldn’t even get your shit together after Roland died to be a mother. Which man is it now paying the bills, Rochelle?! Look at all this,” Ruby pointed to Rochelle’s jewelry and designer, “Don’t look like you struggling to me.”

Rochelle remained silent, scornful eyes glaring at Ruby.

“Aaliyah! Let’s go…”

She hadn’t seen her mother in almost four years. Rochelle looked…fancy.

“Sully is in the car…He drove me here…I missed you, Liyah…”

Ruby watched with folded arms. She locked eyes with Aaliyah, a look of guilt flashing across her face for just a second. They left without a backwards glance.

Aaliyah was very careful around Sully. He was a drug dealer, bringing home money and gifts to spoil Aaliyah. She became used to the revolving door of other criminals entering her home. She was just happy to with her mother again. Aaliyah focused on her studies and poured herself into cheerleading and hip hop majorette.

Eventually, things started to go downhill. Rochelle was introduced to harder drugs, Sully owed people money and he had gambling debts. Things in their home started to disappear, bills were piling up, and Sully turned violent. It took for Ruby and Aaliyah to fight back for Sully to finally leave. It opened the same wound of her father’s death, Rochelle unable to stay strong. Rochelle’s addiction became worse, so bad to the point that she would steal from her own daughter.

Aaliyah couldn’t handle it. As soon as she graduated high school, she got her own place and left her mother behind. It broke her heart, but in order for her to evolve, she needed to break free. Aaliyah hated working at Hooters, and when she turned twenty–six, she started stripping at Crazy Horse.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you…”

Aaliyah opened the front door, but the storm door remained locked. Aaliyah stared down at her mother. Rochelle looked desperate and more frail than the last time she showed up. She’d relapsed again.

“Hey, baby…”

Rochelle pressed her hands against the door.

“Can you help me? I need some cash—”

“I gave you five hundred dollars when I last saw you, momma. I see you back on that shit again…”

Rochelle hung her head in shame.

“I’m trying, Aaliyah. You don’t understand how hard it is.”

“You’ve tried for over twenty years now. I’m tired of helping you and all you do is use me. Weren’t you staying with Mama Ruby?”

She definitely wasn’t staying with Aaliyah.

“I can’t stay wit’ you?”

“Hell no.” Aaliyah quipped.

“I’m your fucking mother!”

“Did you forget what happened the last time you lived with me?! You stole shit from my house! I don’t trust you!”

Aaliyah didn’t need this. She had to go to school.

“Please…please, Li–Li. I’m hungry…I’m broke…pleaseeee…”

Aaliyah stared her mother down with a venomous glance. There will always be a soft spot for Rochelle, but the repeated hurt was exhausting. Seeing her mother like this broke her heart. She just couldn’t stop using.

“Okay…”

Aaliyah opened her storm door. Rochelle slipped inside quickly. Aaliyah kept a watchful eye on her mother while she admired Aaliyah’s cozy home.

“C’mon…”

They entered Aaliyah’s kitchen. Rochelle climbed onto a bar stool, peering around with a nervous look. Aaliyah opened her fridge, bringing out leftover catfish and grits she’d prepared last night for dinner.

“That piece right there…yeah…”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

She gave her mother the thickest piece of catfish and a good portion of cheesy grits. While the food heated, Aaliyah reclined her plush bottom against the counter. She stared her mother down, unable to shake the pain that fought to bubble to the surface.

“How’s school?” Rochelle questioned, unable to avoid picking at her skin.

Aaliyah tampered down her resentment and cleared her throat to speak.

“Good. I’ll be graduating in June.”

“That’s good, baby. Real good…June…How many tickets you gettin’?”

“Uhm,” Aaliyah checked on the catfish, “Not really sure yet.”

“Still dancing?”

Aaliyah rubbed her arms.

“No.”

The smell of the crispy fish wafted her mother’s nose. Aaliyah opened the oven to retrieve it. The grits on the stove top were nice and smooth now. After plating the food, Aaliyah wrapped it with aluminum foil and slid it across the kitchen island to her mother. She opened her pantry to grab a plastic fork and knife, securing it with some paper towels before holding it out towards her mother.

“I can’t sit here and eat?”

“You know you can’t…”

“Aaliyah—”

“Look, I have class. I’m gon’ miss it if you don’t take this shit and leave—”

“LOOK,” Rochelle stood, “I’m sorry you hate me so much. I’m sorry about all that shit, but I’m still your mother, Li–Li.”

“Oh? Last time I remember you being a mother was when I was six years old. Anything after that don’t count.” Aaliyah fired back.

Rochelle parted her cracked lips to speak, but her words stilled in her throat. Her tears flowed down her face and she wiped them away with the back of her dingy sleeve. Aaliyah stood before her with a rigid expression.

“Okay, I’ll leave…”

Rochelle grabbed her plate of food and Aaliyah stepped out of the way for her to walk in front of her. Tears prickled her eyes but she hastily pulled herself together. Aaliyah followed her mother towards the front door. She opened it, unable to reach her mother’s gaze.

“I love you, Li–Li…”

A solemn tear cascaded down Aaliyah’s face.

“…think you could look out for me?”

Aaliyah released a sigh before reaching into her bag. She plucked out whatever cash she had– one hundred and fifty dollars– handing it over to her mother.

Rochelle accepted it shamefully.

“Thank you, Li–Li. Take care of yourself…”

——

Professor Richmond carried his brown leather briefcase with him into the lecture hall. There were already students present the more he approached his desk in his brown dress shoes. His oceanic eyes swept the rows of students, his gaze zeroed into a vacant desk. Bringing his Apple Watch up, he was right on schedule. She would be arriving late today it seems.

Terry couldn’t go the remainder of his weekend into the early weekday without Aaliyah crossing his mind. She invaded and consumed him without her physical presence. He was two grand broker and overjoyed. He’d spend more on her in a millisecond. That shapely body is a walking sin. He found himself daydreaming of how it would feel to press his muscles into the softness of her curves. How would the curl of his biceps feel around her thighs? The ridges of his abdomen beneath her hands as she explored?

“I hope you all read up on Darwin and The Moral Sense. We’re jumping straight into discussion…”

Terry removed his navy blue suit jacket, then he rolled up the sleeves to his white, button down shirt that he wore tucked into matching navy blue slacks. He used a red Expo marker to write: Chapter Three of The Descent of Man. After capping the marker, he turned his attention to the class. With his pointer finger, he pushed his glasses back from the bridge of his nose.

“The keystone significance of morality in human distinctness is clearly asserted by Darwin in the first sentence…and the quote says….”

Terry snapped his fingers before pointing at a student within the second row with their hand raised. A white male with wooly, dark brown hair and a hooked nose.

“I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals—”

“The moral sense of conscience is by far the most important, correct, James. But why is that?”

He cast his penetrating eyes across his students before flicking his gaze at the door. Another student bravely raised their hand and Terry motioned for them to speak. He continued to lecture shortly after that.

“We know from his notebooks that Darwin was reading the contemporary philosophical literature about moral behavior in 1837…”

As he continued, pacing in front of his desk, hands in the pockets of his slacks, the absence of Aaliyah weighed heavy on him. Minutes ticked away and soon enough, class was dismissed. Terry spoke with a student after class about the grade he’d given them for the midterm paper before packing away his things and leaving.

He made it back to his makeshift office space, shut the door and shuffled inside, careful not to knock his briefcase into stacks of decades old textbooks and files. With his thumb and pointer finger, he flicked on his table lamp, a yellow glow igniting the space. The swivel chair situated at his rectangular, wooden desk creaked slight as he settled down. Terry cracked his wrists, a habit of his when he felt too wound up.

iPhone in hand, he found Aaliyah’s contact.

“Here,” Terry handed Aaliyah his phone, “Put your number in.”

Aaliyah stared up at Terry through her curled lashes with a smile that enticed him into a further aroused state. She held out her small hand and made a come hither motion. Terry felt his phone slip from his fingertips and watched her with a sharp gaze and a slight smirk. She typed away, and he caught her eye before she saved it.

Terry texted her phone later that evening and Aaliyah replied with a kiss emoji.

Terry: Goodnight, Beautiful ❤️

Aaliyah: Nite Professor 😘

He texted her on Sunday, not saying much, just a simple greeting. He didn’t want to come off too strong, although he was fiendish for her attention.

Terry: Hi, Aaliyah. Hope you slept well ❤️ Any plans for today?

Aaliyah: Hi 😏 slept well thanks for asking. how was your sleep? & I’m currently out to brunch with friends.

Terry: You’re welcome. had a great rest. Brunch is fun. I’m sure you look great 😌

Aaliyah: I do 😉

Terry: SO BEAUTIFUL 😍

Aaliyah: Thank you ❤️ can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.

Terry: I’m looking forward to it ❤️

Terry sent Aaliyah a new text.

Terry: Hey, is everything okay?

It wasn’t like her to miss class. Terry unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stood to stretch his sore legs from his workout earlier, easing his way over to the only window in his office. Terry looked out the window. The sky was tar-black and the large clouds seemed as if they were moving towards him. He heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and he could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

Buzz Buzz

Terry back tracked to his desk, reaching over and grabbing his phone.

Aaliyah: I’m sorry I missed class, Terry. Everything isn’t okay actually. I wasn’t feeling it. Can I call you?

Terry: Yes

He answered immediately.

Terry took a seat, “Hello?”

“Hi…”

Her voice sent chills down his spine.

Terry sensed her sadness.

“Want to talk about it?”

“…Can we still meet for lunch?”

“We can. It’s raining pretty bad out. Sure you’ll be okay driving?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m standing on my back porch right now…looks like it’s slowing down.”

“Okay. Uh…I was thinking Noir. It’s a nice jazz inspired restaurant and it’s a great vibe for cozy and intimate dining. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, that’s okay. I can meet you there. I know Noir.”

“Okay, drive safely, love.” Terry said.

“I will, you too. See you there.”

——

Noir didn’t have many patrons that afternoon, and Terry wasn’t complaining. He scooted himself into a booth, the dim light hanging above him so dull as if a shade had been cast upon it. His wet dress shoes squeaked slightly as he made himself comfortable. Terry ordered two filtered waters with lemon and hot water to soak the silverware. His legs swung back and forth beneath the booth table anxiously. Eyes that appeared turquoise glanced towards the entrance and he made out the silhouette of Aaliyah Davenport entering.

She must’ve gotten caught in the rain. She was dressed casually, a large Louis Vuitton tote bag over her right shoulder and a denim jacket flung over her left arm. She paused, eyes searching for Terry. He leaned further out of the booth and waved her down. Aaliyah fixed her gaze on him and a small smile graced her beautiful lips. Terry watched her saunter over, and the further she approached, the more her smile brightened.

Terry stood, fixing his pants since they had ridden up on his thighs and bulged around his crotch. Aaliyah slowed down to a stop before him, an awkward pause with nervous glances between them. Ultimately, Terry opened his arms and Aaliyah giggled before wrapping her arms around him. Terry caught a whiff of her hair; coconut and hibiscus. Mmm…he could feel the slight dampness of her curls through his dress shirt.

Her T-shirt beneath his fingertips was slightly wet from the rain droplets. Aaliyah broke away from him and gave him one last look before settling into the booth. Terry followed, situated across from her. He loved how natural and beautiful she looked. Her curls were slightly heat damaged at the ends, giving it personality. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, Terry able to enjoy those pretty brown eyes again. Her hoop earrings swung as she swept hair from her eyes.

“I ordered us some water for now if that’s okay.” Terry mentioned.

“That’s ‘awrite with me, Professor.”

She has such a cute voice. Honeyed.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything crucial. I’m sorry.” Aaliyah apologized.

“Don’t be. We discussed chapter three…have you read it?”

“I have. No assignments?” Aaliyah replied.

“No—Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t care to talk about class. He wanted to know what was bothering her. She looked so saddened. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Uh…it’s a lot. I don’t wanna pour my shit out on you.”

“I’m willing to listen, if you’ll let me. No pressure…”

Aaliyah tilted her head and considered his words. Their water arrived and the waiter was ready to take their orders. Aaliyah hadn’t even looked over the menu.

“Give us another minute, please? Thanks…”

Aaliyah started flipping through the menu. The conical body of the saxophone in the background soothing.

Terry decided to order them an appetizer. Mini crab bites. He wasn’t too sure what to order for lunch.

“Do you like crab bites?” Terry asked.

“I do. That sounds good,” Aaliyah peered up at him with a timid smile, “I was thinking of getting a salmon ceasar salad.”

“Tasty,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a shrimp Po’Boy.”

Their waiter circled back and Terry ordered everything. Alone again, they sipped their water and caught each other’s eye. Aaliyah pushed the wedge of lemon in her glass down further with her straw. She released a sigh before leaning against the table.

“My momma showed up today. Right when I was leaving for school.”

“Ya’ momma? I take it you’re not happy about that…”

Aaliyah’s eyes glistened. Terry wanted to reach out and stroke her soft cheek.

“My mom is a drug addict. Been an addict since I was sixteen.”

Terry allowed what she revealed to him to settle into his mind. He gave her a slow nod, and his eyes fixated on her deeper.

Aaliyah continued with a shaky voice, “After my father was killed, she became depressed and she blamed herself for the longest time. I was there when it happened…saw the whole thing,” Aaliyah rubbed her arms, “He hadn’t even been out of prison for a year and he was shot…”

Terry watched her straighten her back and sniffle, trying her best to calm herself down.

“My momma’s been in and out of rehab. I’ve help her, my grandmomma helped her…she stole from me, disappointed me every single time…” Aaliyah stared down at her hands, “And all she can think to do is show up on my doorstep with her hands out. That broke me.”

Terry twisted his full lips and his eyes fell to her hands. He watched the way her fingers fiddled. With an impulse so strong, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, stroking them with his thumbs. Aaliyah watched the way his hands worked to sooth her. Like he was massaging the stress out of her. Aaliyah exhaled, and then she locked eyes with Terry.

“I love her so much…”

“I know you do, I can see it…I can feel it.” Terry spoke softly.

He released her hands so she could thumb away a tear.

“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah. Sorry about your father. Sorry about your mom…”

“Thank you, Terry. I really appreciate it. I know this is supposed to be a nice lunch. I feel like I’m ruining it with my fuckin’ bullshit.”

“There’s nothing ruined, love. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me about it. I just don’t like seeing you like this…your mom isn’t willing to get help?”

“That’s the thing,” Aaliyah took a sip of her water to help get rid of the lump in her throat, “She’s been in and out of rehab plenty of times. It’s this guy she keeps running back to. I don’t really remember his name…all I know is that he’s a dealer. She’s always had a thing for criminals.”

“Your grandmother, what’s up with that?—am I asking too many questions?”

“No, no,” Aaliyah shook her head, “My grandma is…her and my mom have always had a strained relationship. She’s attempted to help, but it never works out. There’s a lot of unresolved issues and my mom just can’t stick around long enough to deal wit’ it, ya know?”

“I get it. What was your father like?”

Aliyah frowned slightly, “He was so funny. Had so much swagger to ‘em. Loved cars. He got himself mixed up in some shit. He was doing a favor for a friend that turned out to be a robbery and it landed him in prison.”

She had this faraway look in her eyes, as if she were recalling the nostalgic feeling of being with her dad.

“…I saw him…die…and…” Aaliyah exhaled, “Took me a while to shake it…”

“Damn,” Terry hung his head, “Aaliyah, that’s heavy…”

Terry squeezed her hands and sought out her gaze. Aaliyah looked across at him and a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Terry released her hand and lifted from his seat, scooting in next to her. He snatched up a few napkins and dabbed her face gently.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, Aaliyah…so sorry…”

One hand rubbed her shoulder while she bawled up the used napkin in her hand. With one last sniffle, Aaliyah turned her brown eyes that reminded him of cognac through a glass and just then, she leaned in and those lips he’d desired to feel grazed his cheek with a feather–like touch before molding into his skin with a pressure so soothing his eyelash’s fluttered in satisfaction.

“Thanks for listening,” Aaliyah whispered in his ear.

Terry turned his head at an angle towards her. He gave her a searing, sideways glance.

“You’re welcome. Anytime…”

“Crab bites…”

Startled, Terry leaped up from his seat and returned to his side of the booth. Aaliyah thanked the waiter and they put in their orders. Terry and Aaliyah shared the appetizer. After chewing, Aaliyah licked her lips before speaking.

“Tell me a little more about Terry Richmond.”

Terry gave Aaliyah an attractive half–smirk. 

“Ask me and you shall receive.”

“Why teaching? Is that something you’ve always had a passion for?”

“That’s a really good question. Uh…yes. I was an instructor when I spent time in the Marines. I trained Marines for combat and firearms. Each day was new and exciting. I’ve always had this…desire to share knowledge, inspire others, and make a positive impact. Although my pops wanted me to continue into the Marines, I fell in love with Psychology. So…I got my PhD a year ago, and here I am.”

Aaliyah sat her face into her hands with her elbows propped up on the table, listening to him like he was retelling a fairytale story. Her eyes sparkled with joy at listening to him drone on about moving to North Carolina with his parents after Katrina, enlisted into the Marines, finished his undergrad, living there up until the age of twenty–seven before he moved back to Louisiana to attend LSU. Both of his parents are still together and living in North Carolina. Their food arrived and they tucked in, talking in between bites.

Terry was happy that Aaliyah is in better spirits. She smiled and giggled and it warmed his heart. She thanked him for cheering her up. Terry was honored. The topic veered to hobbies and interests. Aaliyah shared that she used to be a majorette dancer.

“Fishing? Living outdoors? Wow. I grew up doing farm work and riding horses but nothing that deep,” Aaliyah responded with a giggle.

“I can take you sometime…show you what it’s like.”

Terry cocked his head to the side and stared at Aaliyah. She held onto his gaze, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. Terry wanted to wrap his full lips around her tongue and suck on it.

“So…is it a date then? Taking me fishing and camping, Professor?” Aaliyah teased.

“I’ll take you anywhere,” Terry slurped down some water.

“Anywhere?” Aaliyah dragged out with her cutesy voice and lips twinged with a sultry smile.

“Anywhere…anything for you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aaliyah smiled, “You’ve earned the privilege to spoil me.”

They laughed in unison.

“How did I earn it, exactly?” Terry quirked a brow up and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Giving me two thousand dollars cash was enough to let me know,” Aaliyah replied bluntly.

Terry chucked. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the space before he lowered his voice an octave, “You liked that, huh?”

“More than you’ll ever know…”

“Let me know, girl…”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled.

“Let me know…” Terry persisted.

“I didn’t like it I love it. I’m a princess and I should be treated accordingly.”

Terry’s eyelids lowered slightly. He leaned in on his arms, eyes roaming her body before staring into her eyes again. He felt a sensation so deep within his ripped core. Something akin to butterflies. Aaliyah excited him. That mouth on her…he loved it.

“The minute I laid my eyes on you at that bachelor party…you were gettin’ all my money…”

“Good, that’s what I wanted,” Aaliyah nibbled on her straw with a teasing smile.

Terry licked his lips. He stared at her through his spectacles while his fingers drummed against the table slowly. Aaliyah sat her glass down and leaned back against the booth.

Staring.

They were practically eye–fucking each other.

Beneath that table, Aaliyah took it upon herself to run her pointed, left foot up Terry’s right leg. She did it achingly slow. It traveled up and up until she stopped with her foot propped up against his seat between his legs. Terry did one lazy sweep of his eyes over her foot and his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

”Aaliyah…”

“Huh?”

Terry was going to lose it. Lose all his control. He was itching to walk her to the back of the restaurant, push her into a bathroom stall, and beat that fat pussy up with her chest against the door and his large hands keeping her pinned in place and stable on that dick.

“If I could tell you how beautiful you are…how gorgeous you are a million times I would. The moment I laid eyes on you at the beginning of the semester…I couldn’t ignore it. The feeling. I just knew that I had to have you…”

Aaliyah sat transfixed by his words. Lips slightly parted, eyes misty. He loved that look on her face. He wanted her to look at him like that in a kneeled position with his dick hanging in her face waiting to be tended to.

The thoughts in his mind…

“Wow,” Aaliyah chuckled breathlessly, “You want me that bad, huh? Wow…”

She acted as if a man never pined for her so deep like Terry. His unspoken energy even spoke volumes.

He. Needed. Aaliyah.

Professor or not.

“You don’t even know…”

“Mm,” Aaliyah shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes opened slowly, “Terry…you gotta stop.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah’s thighs clenching beneath the table and Terry’s thighs swinging back and forth.

“Why stop?” Terry whispered.

Aaliyah kisses her teeth, “‘Cause…”

Her cute voice was enough to make the tip of his dick respond. He could feel himself leaking.

Thank God the waiter returned with the check. Terry paid the tab, and Aaliyah looked at him, not quite ready to go. Terry didn’t want to, but he had an evening course starting within the next hour or so and he needed to head back to campus.

Fuck that class. Look what’s in front of of you, nigga…

“You ready?” Terry questioned reluctantly.

——

They hadn’t even made it out of Noir for two seconds before it started again. They quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.

Aaliyah got the first splatter of rain when she was halfway across the parking lot. She took shelter under her Jean jacket, hoping that she could see out past the shower. Terry’s brawny bicep pulled her closer while he covered himself with his own jacket. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the concrete like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak trees and the drops were drumming against the tops of cars. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded her of the rotor blades on a helicopter.

Terry’s truck was closer. He rushed to fling the door opened, helping Aaliyah inside before sprinting to his side and climbing in. He slammed the door shut before tossing his drenched suit jacket onto the back seat. The humidity caused the car windows to fog as it poured. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. They sought out each other’s gaze and laughed.

Aaliyah threw her head back and sighed with contempt. This was a great lunch date. She was so happy she came. After bawling her eyes out about her mother, she needed some fun. Terry was more than just his looks. He was so refreshing. Such a gentleman. Hard working. So deeply fascinated with her. And it was more than just a lustful gaze. A gaze Aaliyah was more than used to. No. This man wanted her.

Aaliyah turned her cheek against the headrest to watch him. Terry felt her eyes and he gave her his undivided attention.

“I want to see you again, as soon as possible, Aaliyah.”

The urgency in his voice let her know he was a man about action.

“I’ll let you know what my days are looking like…okay?”

Terry hummed. The sound vibrated her core. He was impatient.

“Why not check on that now? Friday for an hour and thirty minute class ain’t enough.”

The bite in his voice sounded so much different from his professional tone. Aaliyah was stunned.

“Okay,” She pulled out her phone from her bag, “I have plans Saturday with friends…”

“Friday night?”

“Nothing.” Aaliyah replied.

“Then how about Friday? I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I have to study, Terry.” Aaliyah said, a playful glint in her eyes.

Aaliyah clocked the way Terry’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She imagined what he looked like beneath his business attire. Her imagining could only conjure up enough for her to fantasize about. She needed to see the real thing. Up close. Touch on him and memorize the planes and valleys of muscle threatening to bring the freak out of her. He looked like he could bench press and squat three times her size and Aaliyah wanted to test that theory. In many positions.

“I’ll help you study.”

“Isn’t that cheating?!” Aaliyah replied.

“It’s called tutoring, baby girl.”

Baby girl? Oh fucking hell…

Aaliyah became acutely aware of her nipples hardening. So did Terry. His eyes were glued to her breasts sitting up and jutted out.

Terry reached down beside him and his seat reclined back. Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. He gave her a pointed look. Aliyah’s eyes fell to his inviting lap…and a rather mountainous bulge…

It was as if the blood coursing through his body carried downward and pooled into his…

The veins in his arms…she could see them clearer now. His large hands resting against his thighs…that man spread…she felt a buzzing in her ears. The silent dominance in his posture…

Aaliyah lifted from her seat in a frenzy, Terry scooped her up with one powerful arm around her waistline and Aaliyah climbed over his lap. She sat herself snugly over his thick bulge that protruded from the crotch of his navy blue slacks like an eruption was waiting to happen. Her fat pussy sat on that protrusion and her breath hitched.

“Professor…”

Terry’s large hands double–cuffed her thick ass and he forced his grip upward, arching her back. Those thick, long fingers sank into the plump flesh as he groped her. One hand above her, pressed against the roof of the car, Aaliyah allowed the feeling of him squeezing and jiggling her cakes to consume her.

His glasses had fogged up. Their mingled, uneven breaths along with the sound of the leather seats filled the space between them. Aaliyah felt his hands smooth around to the junction between her thighs and booty and he applied force, making her ass move on its own—left cheek, right cheek— peering down over her shoulder while she was pressed against him. Aaliyah had her feet folded over his knees.

“Ughhh….”

A deep grunt followed by his arms wrapping around her waist tight. Biceps cutting into her back. The new position had Aaliyah sitting over his print harder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Terry’s nose was pressed against her neck, inhaling cool air and exhaling heated air that caused goosebumps to spread.

His arms loosened and Aaliyah tilted her head down to meet his eyes. She removed Terry’s glasses, resting them inside of his cup holder. The interior of his car smelled like blackberry clove and leather. He smelled like sandalwood. Those eyes. She got lost in them before tearing her gaze away to stare at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Terry asked softly.

Aaliyah closed the space between them and one of Terry’s hands tangled into her wet coils while his other hand sat above her ass. They gave each other an open–mouthed kiss filled with a feverish need for each other. Wet smacking noises sent signals of arousal. Eyes closed, heads swiveling, equally tasty and soft lips molding into each other’s. Aaliyah allowed her hands to run beneath his dress shirt and white better, coming into contact with warm skin stretched over an impressive physique.

“Unh…”

She found herself moaning.

A single finger of Terry’s traced the waistline of her leggings. The sensation caused her body to shiver. Aaliyah sat up, leaning back against his steering wheel. Terry locked eyes with her while his fingers brushed from her waist down to her pussy. The heat radiating from there could have added to the fog on the windows .

“You deserve so much…you’re so fuckin’ sexy…”

Aaliyah adjusted herself to tilt her body against his so that Terry could put his hand down her leggings.

“Damn…it’s like that, baby?”

“Uh-huh…”

Terry’s hand cupped her fat pussy through her thong. Aaliyah clung to his shoulders while holding his gaze. Terry’s tongue—thick and pink—poked out and Aaliyah accepted the invitation of touching tongues with him. His fingers moved her panties to the side. He grunted into Aaliyah’s mouth.

“Damn…damn…”

His fingers rubbed up and down. Aaliyah spread her thighs further.

“There you go…nasty girl… spreading your legs like that…want me to touch all over this pussy…I like that…”

His words. She whimpered when his fingers started doing that up and down motion between her swollen labia and over her stiff clit. Aaliyah couldn’t believe how wet her pussy is. Creamy viscous spread all over her.

“Unh…Terry…”

“This what you think about? You think about me expressing how much I want you with my fingers in your pussy?…”

Two fingers sank deep. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. Terry’s brows furrowed and his eyes would flicker from her face to his hand moving up and down in her leggings.

“Aaliyah…this lil’ pussy tight, girl…I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now…”

He looked like he couldn’t believe it. Jade eyes intense.

“It’s s–s–so, wet…”

His words stuttered out in disbelief.

“My pussy like you just as much as I do, Professor…”

Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip and her head lulled back. She started bouncing on his fingers. Damn, she missed this. She missed being fingered the proper way. She ain’t have dick in almost a year. The last man to have her was a mistake and not even worth mentioning. All she could focus on was keeping her legs spread and that pussy open.

“Good girl…you follow directions well…I like that,” Terry dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, “Look at me, Aaliyah…”

She did as she was told.

“I played your little game. Now what?”

He was toying with her.

This man…this was another side to him she was more than excited to see.

“Now you make me cum…make me cum, Professor.”

Terry chuckled, “Make this pussy cum?”

His fingers were knuckle deep.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry…”

“Mmm…that sweet, little voice gon’ get you in trouble…keep moaning…uh-huh…mhmmmm…”

Aaliyah clamped down on his fingers. She lowered her head over his headrest and rode out her orgasm. So intense. It hit her like a freight train. Terry pressed deeper, stroking a spot that had Aaliyah crying. Terry gently withdrew his fingers. Aaliyah’s breaths slowed down, but her body was still recovering from the after shocks.

His hand resurfaced just as the sun peered over the storm clouds. The aroma of her pussy and the cum clinging to his fingers flooded her nose in the best way. Terry held his manicured fingers up. Aaliyah locked her gaze on creamy–white goodness all over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

Terry played with it. Rubbing his fingertips together. Spreading his fingers to see how slimy it looked. Aaliyah watched him suck each finger while his eyes never left her face.

“I taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Fuckin’ amazing, baby…”

Terry licked his lips and Aaliyah leaned in to steal a kiss. They kissed for some time before Terry broke away. He released a growl of frustration.

“I gotta head back to campus…I have an exam for my next class…”

Aaliyah pecked his lips before climbing off his lap and into her seat. Terry had his lip pouted while fixing himself. Aaliyah giggled, her eyes dropping down to his neglected erection. He caught her watching, grabbing her wrist and sitting her hand over his bulge.

It…was…thick…

“It’s so big…”

Aaliyah explored, squeezing and stroking…Terry swiped his bottom lip with his tongue and closed his eyes for a second to gather himself. Aaliyah removed her hand and Terry looked over at her like he didn’t want her to stop. Ever. She didn’t want to go, but Terry needed to get back to Campus. The last thing she’d ever want to do is sabotage his career.

“I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay…I’ll see you Friday, right?” Terry questioned, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and kissing the back of it over and over.

“Yes. I’ll be there…”

Terry made a come hither motion and Aaliyah obeyed, slipping him some final tongue before they parted ways. Terry put his glasses back on, giving Aaliyah one final look of longing. She knew she had to be the one to leave him behind because if she didn’t, he would have skipped the class and spent the rest of the day proving to her just how much he needed her.

“Bye, Professor.”

Aaliyah opened the car door. She hopped down from his truck, grabbing her jean jacket. She blew Terry a kiss before shutting his door and heading towards her Jeep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her pussy on his tongue and her scent on his fingers while he lectured.

——

Aaliyah 🌹: Studying for an exam tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I had a really great time today 😏 just might touch myself thinking about it. Sweet Dreams, Professor. Xoxoxo 👄

Terry moved towards his living room, an NBA game on in the background. He was shirtless with black joggers on and a durag over his short curls. A single gold cross chain sat in the middle of his pecs. The heels of his socked feet sat into the throw rug beneath him. He had grilled salmon, broccoli, and dirty rice for dinner.

Aaliyah.

That woman awakened something primal in him. Although his eyes bounced back and forth across the screen, his mind wandered to the way his taste buds craved more pussy. He had such a good time getting to know her. The way her lips felt like the softest cushion against his lips. The soft, little whimpers she made drove him crazy. He dragged a hand down his face.

He studiously ignored the monster in his joggers.

Could’ve been full of something else if you had just taken what was in front of you.

The game did nothing to calm down his body. He flipped through the channels looking for something, anything to distract himself from the length of his dick pulsing against his thigh. Terry shifted his hips on the couch, the fight to ignore it impossible.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry.”

Terry could still hardly believe that he had Aaliyah in his lap, lips against hers, fingers deep in her pussy, and in public. The morbid excitement from earlier returned to him in tenfold, echoing in the throb of his manhood. He stared forward at the movements on his television unseeingly, fighting his mind as it tried to conjure up an image of himself between Aaliyah’s legs. Her pretty pussy gleaming at him naughtily making his mouth water. He wanted to be the only one to taste her for as long as he lived. To bury his face in between her buttery–smooth thighs to kiss, lick and tongue fuck her until she was a whimpering, quivering mess. His name a constant chant on her lips as she feebly tried to push him away after her orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Not until all she wanted was him.

“Terry…Terry…right there, Terry…”

“Shit,” he grunted as he lifted his hips off the couch slightly, pulling his joggers down to his thighs, his engorged dick springing free, curving up to look at him. The purpling head waved in the air at him in greeting and invitation. Terry scrubbed a hand over his face at the sight, exasperated at his excitement for a girl he’d never seen naked and his inability to turn this shit off. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily to him if he didn’t take care of big boy first.

Terry’s eyes tracked a drop of precum as it dribbled over his head and down his pulsating shaft, collecting at his heavy balls. His dick was quite literally demanding attention, the veins overly pronoucned along the sides beating in time with his heart, and he was hard pressed not to give in. He hadn’t touched himself in a few days, work had kept him busy and the thoughts of Aaliyah after the bachelor party had given him a reason to. He quickly contemplated walking back to his room and using his fleshlight to get the job done before he decided against it. He was too needy to move now.

Tentative fingers ran over the velvety tip, collecting the beads of moisture there and spreading them around slowly. He closed his blue–gray eyes and pushed his head back into the sofa cushion with a flex of his hips. A harsh ‘fuck’ escaped his clenched teeth at the sensitivity. This was going to be quick, rough and lacking any of the finesse he usually showcased in any moment of sexual gratification. Even if that moment was just with him.

Terry’s dominant hand wrapped lightly around himself, trying to mimic how his Aaliyah would touch him, his other dragging over his exposed abdomen. His hand pulled down roughly, electing a low groan from him, as a fantasy bloomed in his mind. He could see her behind his lids that had fallen closed. Kneeling in front of him, between his parted thighs, bright eyes glued to his expression as she bit her lip in concentration. Watching him with that sassy look she got any time she wanted things her way.

Terry spread his knees as far as his joggers would allow, his hand twisting and pulling himself, gaining momentum with every tight pass of the head. Thumb coming up to swiped over the moist slit. Half curses spewed out of him as his pace quickens, his free hand coming down to fondle his sack. Rolling it between his fingers. The sensation doing nothing to abate his impending release.

“Fuccccckkk…..” his voice hitched and raised, battling with the enthusiastic wet sounds of his hand pumping.

His fantasy girl looked between him and his twitching dick, her hand moving as fast as he was. She licked her parted lips and leaned towards his thick pipe. Her warm breath only heightened his pleasure as she whispered to him lowly.

“Cum for me, Professor…”

And he did just that. His heels dug into the plush rug beneath him, using it for leverage as he fucked up into his hand, the coil in his belly growing tighter until it snapped. A croak of Aaliyah’s name bouncing off his walls. Thick spurts of warm cum landing haphazardly across his upper body didn’t deter him as he continued to drag his fist over his oozing dick until the motion became too much for his overly sensitive body. Legs shuddering with each pass.

Terry let go with a deep sigh, taut body relaxing slowly until he was sitting naturally in his seat. Terry glanced down at the evidence of his ecstasy littered across his chest, stomach and hand.

He huffed an annoyed laugh at how quickly his orgasm had taken him. And how hard his dick still was as it bobbed in front of him, his stamina was working against him this time around. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he gripped the base, pulling his hand with a slow rotation of his wrist upwards. His release making the perfect slick for round two.

“F–fuuck, babyyy…” Terry hissed at the feeling. He let go, palming the head a few seconds to stave off the mounting pressure. He would not come that quickly again.

Terry took his time, languidly pulling at his dick, unrushed. Rubbing his free hand up and down his stomach, tweaking his nipple quickly before sliding back down. He repeated this process as his hand gradually picked up speed.

The short nails on Terry’s left hand bit deliciously into his skin as he raked them down his chest and stomach. The sharp pain was closely followed by a wave of hazy pleasure causing his hips to buck faster into his hand. He abandoned all notion of slow, the tightening in his balls and urge to reach completion pushing fast and hard to the forefront of his mind. The juxtaposition of two intense sensations never failed to throw him over the edge.

Terry threw his head back, neck straining as he clenched his jaw. A constant string of yes, fuck, yes screaming in his head as his abdominal muscles flexed and clenched. His hand is almost a blur with how quickly he’s moving.

Twist

Grip

Plunge

Slap

Squeeze

Fucking Aaliyah did this to him. Those eyes, that smile, her voice, that goddamn body…

Flashes of her twerking in a split, making that ass clap, looking back at it, licking her lips with that tongue ring, talking her shit, how sweet her pussy tasted, how snug her walls were around his fingers.

He wished it was her. Her delicate hand working him. Her brown eyes drooping with arousal. Her heavenly voice encouraging him to go ahead. Let go. He could almost smell her. Almost taste her.

Her pussy was so fucking sweet. He couldn’t wait to suck on her pussy. He wanted to bury his nose into it and draw in a deep breath that almost burned his lungs. He wanted to make her unravel beneath his tortuous tongue and lips. Over and over and over—

He erupted at the thought, breathing hard and keening through his messy release. The second nut even more than the first. Still, he continued to stroke, torturing himself, milking himself like he wanted her to.

Terry was out of breath by the end of it. Body spent and tingling.

So much for not cumming quickly.

He sat there for a long time, waiting for the hollow feeling to retreat from his bones, his cum cooling on his skin. He needed to take another shower.

But what he really needed was her.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

In honor of Lestat de Lioncourt's 264th birthday, I present to you...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part I (of IV)

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,900+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend Riley for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

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It was a cool autumn night in Paris, and while mortals slept, the undead were busy welcoming their newest member to their coven inside the old auditorium. The Vampire Armand stood proudly in front of the stage, looking up at the Theatre’s founder and poster child Lestat de Lioncourt, giving him notes and stage directions he knows full well Lestat will not listen to. Next to Lestat was Y/F/N Y/L/N, a freshly turned vampire herself.

Today was Y/N’s audition to join the Theatre des Vampires, and although nervous, she felt at home already among the other thespians in the room with her. With her lifelong love of theatre and literature that only intensified in her newly immortal life, Y/N knew she was in good company. She caught herself stealing glances at Lestat, as if against her will, but she knew she couldn’t help herself. Of all the vampires in this room—the stage director and Coven leader Armand, fellow company members Eglee, Celeste, Estelle, Sam, Gustav, and Quang Pham in the seats, as well as the gifted violinist Nicki hiding in the wings—there is something captivating and enchanting about this charismatic blonde actor. Y/N felt immediately attracted to this man, and she was both alarmed by and pleased with this sudden revelation. Lestat could feel Y/N’s attraction to him, something he found adorable, endearing, distracting, and quite arousing. Lestat gazed at her, a charmingly wicked smile on his face as he admired the young vampire in front of him. Armand, annoyed but pushing the uneasy feeling down, turned to look at Y/N.

“Welcome to the Theatre, dear Y/N. The Coven and I are interested as to how you found yourself in Paris, and how you found us. Please, enlighten everyone,” Armand said, with a slight air of both curiosity and mild arrogance rolled together. Y/N quickly moved her glance from Lestat to Armand and shivered slightly before she answered.

“Hello all, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I was visiting when I was given the Dark Gift. I have been in Paris ever since. I heard about the Theatre through my maker, and through discovering the Theatre, I found out about the Coven.” As she told the truth, she felt Santiago staring daggers at her, full of amusement.

“So, little miss Y/L/N, it seems as though you enjoy the arts, is that right?” said Santiago, with a slithery snark. Y/N nodded her head. “A birdie told me that you’re auditioning with one of Shakespeare’s lesser works, yes?” Y/N nodded again. Lestat’s blueish violet eyes widened as he grinned a little bigger.

“Yes, I will be reading as Rosalind disguised as Ganymede. I hope you find it suitable,” she said politely, trying to stifle a small tinge of laughter. Santiago exaggerated his giggle to mock her slightly before speaking again.

“Hmm, I assume you would like to have someone read with you. I wonder who that could be…” Santiago’s voice trailed off as he shifted his glance from Y/N to the left of her.

The slender, blonde, and devilishly handsome vampire beside Y/N spoke before she could even have the thought to respond. Watching from the wings, the violinist Nicki put a hand to his forehead with a quiet groan.

“I volunteer myself. I know the play by heart,” said Lestat. He shot Y/N a soft but sly grin as he placed his hand on his chest, reeling in the blush that appeared on her face. Armand had to hold back a scoff as Lestat offered to read with her. “I’m quite curious to see how she does, if I may.” Lestat gently bowed as he spoke to her, with a smile on his face and intrigue in his heart. Lestat was many things, and subtle was not one of them. Y/N nodded, smiling slyly back at him.

“You may,” Y/N said, bowing slightly. Her cheeks cast a rosy glow upon them as she smiled. Santiago chuckled to himself, and Armand choked down another scoff as he looked back to Y/N and Lestat.

“As you wish. Lestat, you will read with Y/N as Orlando, starting from his entrance after Jaques exits the scene. Y/N, you will follow.” Armand crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the two vampires in front of him on the stage.

“Yes, maître,” said Y/N, slightly nervous but strangely excited about reading alongside this hauntingly tempting creature next to her. She got herself into character quickly, trying to fight off the thought of how sweet Lestat’s blood might taste on her tongue and how soft his full lips must be, among various other salacious and primal things that she wasn’t aware of that she needed or wanted. It wasn’t an unwelcome thing—Lestat had something disarmingly attractive about him. Y/N felt drawn to him somehow, but she tried in vain to hide it. Lestat cleared his throat and prepared himself as well, his own pale skin turning a faint pink as they moved to the middle of the stage. Butterflies fluttered inside their bodies as they began their scene. After a few seconds of silence passed, Lestat launched into character.

“My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.” Lestat said, remembering the lines from memory as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her nervousness and giddiness, Y/N began herself.

“Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ th’ shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.” Y/N matched Lestat’s intensity and focus as she spoke her lines. Astonished by her delivery, he carried on with his own lines.

“Pardon me, dear Rosalind,” continued Lestat, feeling a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach, the pleasant sensation only growing stronger as she went on. Lestat watched her as she moved effortlessly through her audition, overcome with awe, very nearly stumbling on his own lines as a result. Armand and Santiago watched from the bottom of the stage as Y/N and Lestat kept going.

Armand watched from the front row and noticed Lestat’s immediate and oddly natural chemistry with Y/N and was well aware of the subtle attraction and quiet infatuation she felt towards Lestat. Armand could feel it through her, and it bothered him. He couldn’t help it; he began to feel his face turn green with envy. Santiago, however, was greatly amused at what was unfolding in front of them—and he relished the drama of it all. The rest of the Coven watched from the seats intently, some engrossed, some unbothered. Nicki leaned up against the wall backstage, a pained expression etched on his features. Looking on at his former lover floating across the stage with a woman whom he had only met mere hours ago and watching her fall under his spell just as he had, Nicki shook his head, a grimace forming on his face.

With all due respect, maître…maybe we should keep an eye on the new one, said Santiago, filling Armand’s head with his thoughts without moving his mouth. It’s only a matter of time before our dear founder tries to take her to bed with him…you know as well as I do how he is. And seeing how she’s looking at him—Armand did not want to hear this. Lestat and Y/N were too immersed in their scene and lost in each other to hear them through their own minds.

Armand cut him off. Enough, Santiago. I know very well how Lestat operates. Let them finish. I’ll allow Y/N to continue, for now. We shall decide what measures to take when the time is right… As Armand and Santiago sized Y/N up, she breezed through her audition.

“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now an I were your very, very Rosalind?” Y/N continued as she blushed and smiled at Lestat. Anything he did in his impromptu performance, she followed with masterful skill.

Lestat slowly walked closer to her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Lestat looked at Y/N, smirking as he brushed some of his long blonde hair behind his ear. He let the silence expand for a second before he continued.

“I would kiss before I spoke.”

Lestat and Y/N gazed at each other as if they were the only beings in the room, amusing Santiago morbidly and annoying Armand profoundly. A mixture of admiration and a deep hunger formed inside Lestat’s chest, and Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She gulped quietly as she tried to keep up with Lestat. Determined to give the best audition she could despite having to act opposite the most gorgeous creature she has ever laid her eyes on, alive or dead, Y/N tried to fight off her own desire building within her. Soft gasps could be heard from the other vampires watching them from the seats.

“Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.”

Sensing Y/N’s struggle to maintain her composure, Lestat met her energy with his own words. “How if the kiss be denied?” He looked at her for a beat, cocking his head to one side quizzically. Y/N answered him with a playful shrug.

“Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.”

Lestat continued his teasing, delighted by the thrill Y/N gave him. “Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?”

Y/N pretended to scoff. “Marry, that should you if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.”

Lestat looked at Y/N with a look of mock surprise. “What, of my suit?” he said, his voice harboring a more sensual tone this time.

“Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am I not your Rosalind?” Y/N floated across the stage like a ghost, every single movement calculated and carried out so smoothly.

“I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.” Lestat’s face reddened slightly as he noticed how Y/N’s jaw dropped, but only for a second before she kept going.

“Well, in her person I say I will not have you.” Y/N let out an exaggerated giggle as she playfully spun around slowly.

A dramatic sigh escaped Lestat’s lungs. “Then in mine own person I die.” He looked back at Y/N as she turned to face him again.

“By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.” Y/N gazed at the vampire in front of her, only inches separating them now. Lestat reached out to gently caress Y/N’s cheek as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, making her blush even more obvious in her face now. He has her right where he wants her, and as fate or some other mystical thing would have it, Y/N is right where she wants to be. Once again, Lestat drew the silence out for a beat too long before he spoke.

“Then love me, Rosalind.”

Y/N’s voice trembled a little as she leaned into Lestat’s touch. His unbroken focus on her made her feel slightly faint just from the way he looked at her, but she kept her cool as best as she could. “Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.” She shyly smiled up at him, trying and failing to hide her quiet swooning.

Lestat hung on to every word that left her lips as if he had never heard such language spoken before. Of course, he was no stranger to the stage himself, having been the Theatre’s main selling point for a few years now. The act of performing on a stage in front of an enamored audience always thrilled him, but she…she was different. This new and sudden but pleasant feeling cut him way deeper, hit him harder—he knew that she was something magical. And Lestat wasn’t quite sure where to put that desire and hunger, so he decided to do the thing he does best: he needed to have her all to himself, by any means necessary. Lestat was delighted to find that the feeling was so clearly mutual.

Santiago watched Lestat enchant Y/N as they continued with their performances. He gasped quietly as he saw Lestat become smitten with Y/N, rolling his eyes. Just look at those two! Can you believe them? They’ve made eyes at each other from the second she came through the door. They’ve only just met a few hours ago and he’s looking at her like Venus de Milo herself…and she looks as if she’s about to melt through the floor. Armand found himself becoming more and more annoyed as Lestat and Y/N carried on like they were, and Santiago took notice. Maître, you’re grinding your teeth…

Armand huffed quietly. I said let them continue. Y/N is smarter than we realize. If she doesn’t know who she’s getting herself tied up with, she will. I can guarantee that. Armand maintained his mildly annoyed expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. I see potential in her. We can use that potential.

Santiago, ever the drama queen but also the suck-up, tried to push Armand’s buttons. How shall we do that, maître? I wonder what our violinist has to say about this…I can’t imagine he’s especially thrilled about—

Armand cut him off once again. Be silent now, Santiago. Nicki is the least of my worries right now.

Now mildly aware of the growing discomfort in the pit of Armand’s stomach and Santiago’s antagonizing of him, Lestat continued to read with Y/N. He was enraptured by her, this was true—but he also found quite a bit of amusement in making Armand uncomfortable. Y/N, less aware of the effect her performance is having on the Coven leader and his all-too-willing sidekick, matched him masterfully.

“And wilt thou have me?” said Lestat, sultry and low.

Y/N nodded her head and smiled. “Ay, and twenty such.”

Lestat felt his heart flutter in his chest as he moved closer to her. “What sayest thou?”

Y/N gently bit her lip then let it go with a smirk. “Are you not good?”

“I hope so.” Lestat rolled his eyes in a sassy manner.

“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?” Y/N went on, closing the small space between herself and Lestat.

The vaguely pained expression did not escape Armand’s face. Still wanting to maintain some sort of order and power over his Coven, Armand kept his focus fixed on the two vampires on the stage in front of him.

Santiago, an evil grin taking shape over his features, watched Lestat and Y/N’s bond become deeper by the second as Y/N continued. “Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando.” Y/N gently reached for Lestat’s hand, and he placed it in hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked to where the audience would be sitting. “What do you say sister?” Y/N looked back up at Lestat as he gazed back at her, their vampire eyes blown out with love and desire for each other.

After what felt like an eternity, Lestat put his finger under Y/N’s chin and gingerly tilted her head up. He started to move down to press his lips to hers, and she moved up to meet him. He closed his eyes, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips gently—

A groan could be heard from Armand as Santiago abruptly rose from his seat and applauded loudly. Lestat and Y/N snapped out of their trance and pulled away from each other, no longer able to hide their blushing. The rest of the Coven began to applaud as well. The vampires Sam and Gustav were enthusiastic in their encouragement of the new potential member of the Coven and her undeniable and palpable chemistry with their Theatre’s founder. Celeste looked on with a proud smile on her face, while Estelle clapped wildly. Eglee rolled her eyes before eventually joining in with her applause. Backstage, Nicki shook his head again as he quietly left the auditorium, quietly cursing under his breath.

“Very well done, Y/N. Very well done indeed,” said Santiago, sounding giddier than he probably should. He looked at Armand. “What say you, maître?” he asked with mock amusement.

Armand once again did not listen. He looked up at Y/N as Lestat released her from his gentle but bold embrace. “Exquisite work, Y/N. Exceptional. While we evaluate your performance, you are welcome to remain here with the Coven. We have provided a coffin for you near your maker’s.” Armand started to dismiss everyone before he turned back to Y/N. “We do expect you to keep our hours, curfew is three o’clock sharp.” He shot a subtle but menacing glare at Lestat. Lestat rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he turned his back to him. Armand looked at Y/N again. Lestat smiled warmly at Y/N as he winked at her.

Still reeling from everything that just occurred, Y/N nodded and bowed. “Yes maître, I will. Thank you all.” Armand dismissed Santiago and the rest of the Coven, and they all left the auditorium.

It was then that Y/N heard a sensual and seductive voice inside her head.

Très bien fait, ma chérie. I’m impressed.

Y/N turned around to find Lestat leaning against the piano on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest, looking her up and down, dripping with genuine curiosity and insatiable desire. She blushed and smiled as she met his gaze.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Lestat. It really means a lot to hear.” Y/N walked over to him, slightly nervous but not at all deterred. “You were amazing yourself.”

Lestat rolled his eyes playfully at her compliment but accepted it. “You flatter me, mon amour.” He stood up straight and walked over to her, looking down at her with that softly sly smirk again. “I must say, my dear Y/N, you are quite the actress. Many have come and gone from this theatre, but none have bewitched me so like you have, ma petite fleur.”

Y/N swooned at his words, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in them despite the obvious attraction. “Oh, you’re too kind. It’s not often I’m in the presence of someone so…” She caught herself getting lost in his eyes again—something she has by now realized is very easy to do—before she continued. “So…enchanting as you.”

Lestat chuckled lowly. “Is that so? Well, you have captivated me too, love,” he said, pausing briefly as he took the sight of her in. “I haven’t seen such talent on this stage in quite some time, Y/N.” She blushed deeper as she took a second to gather her thoughts. Y/N sighed softly before speaking.

“Thank you! I’m just happy that I can finally do what I love to do. Up until today, I thought it was unfortunate that I couldn’t do this kind of thing when I was mortal, but I don’t have that feeling now that I’m here. In an odd way, it feels right like this.” Y/N chuckled lightly.

Lestat listened to her words intently. “I know that feeling very well, mon coeur. For what it’s worth, I’m quite glad you wandered into our midst. I can see already that you’re passionate about the Theatre, and it’s refreshing. You’re simply lovely.” Y/N smiled at his words of admiration and encouragement. “I cannot wait to see what other talents you possess, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said with a smirk, appreciating the slight drop of her jaw. Noticing the positive tension on her face, Lestat spoke gently to her. “Oh, and don’t be nervous, chérie. There is nothing to be afraid of. I have no doubt you’ll fit in here, I am sure of it.” He traced her jawline affectionately before tilting her head up to bring her eyes to meet his, just like he did during her audition. “And, if I may be so bold, I would love to get to know you better. If you’ll have me, of course.” Y/N’s eyes widened as she swooned. She nodded as she stuttered slightly.

“I’d love to, Lestat. I would be honored.” Y/N felt her heart jump into her mouth. The gorgeous blonde vampire in front of her reveled in how flustered she looked as he spoke to her.

“Very well then, dear Y/N. We’ll continue our little conversation after your initiation tomorrow.”

Y/N gulped. “My…my what?!”

Lestat giggled slyly. “You heard me correctly, ma chérie. Welcome to the Theatre, darling. You’re one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

“But…Armand said—” Lestat gently placed a finger over her lips to shut her up as he spoke lowly to her, sultry and dripping with desire.

“Shh, ma jolie fille…never mind what that manipulative gremlin Armand said.” Lestat let his finger gently drag across her bottom lip before letting it go. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear as he continued. “I’ll be seeing you backstage afterwards, yes?”

There was no way for him to be coy about his appetite for her any more than he had earlier. The vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, the Brat Prince himself, was anything but shy about his unquenchable thirst for Y/N; it only grew exponentially in the few hours since he met her.

Y/N felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she nodded. “Of course, Lestat. You will.” She smiled at him, trying to regulate her breathing.

Lestat smiled wickedly at her again. “Très bien, mon amour. I’ll see you then.” He caressed her face again before turning to walk away. “Bonne nuit, ma belle. Sweet dreams.”

Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she smiled. “Good night, Lestat. I hope you sleep well.” Blushing, she beamed at him, and he smiled back, a blush of his own on his face.

With that, they left the room. As she lifted the lid to her coffin next to the others to crawl inside it, Y/N gasped as she heard Lestat’s voice in her head again, stopping her momentarily.

Remember what I told you, ma petite fleur. There is nothing to worry your pretty little head with. And know this too, my darling: I don't bite...hard.

[lillypad-monopoly]

Wild Life Episode 3 Thoughts

Sorry I don't have very good commentary this week. I was really busy and then life happened so I watched these POVs over the course of 6 days and didn't always take live notes.

The snail gimmick is iconic! Another amazing wildcard and a good Grian reference as well as being memey!

Someone joked about them being soulbound to the snails and I'm praying for the return of a soulbond Wildcard so hard right now

I'm genuinely concerned Skizz and Jimmy won't make it to episode 5. I hope we get some more passive wildcards coming up or this is going to be a pretty short series (also I would like them to get some stuff done)

Grian freezing the game is the lore event ever. Watcher powers are real but also he's clearly fighting back against their agenda more this season (once again such angst potential here RE: Grian knowing the wildcards ahead of time)

Ren digging all those holes looking for their horse is literally the definition of insanity and it's hilarious

Martyn and Etho interacting is always interesting both because the anime skin boys are hanging out together and because they have literally opposite playstyles. Martyn is crazy reckless and Etho is soo careful.

WHY DO REN AND MARTYN HAVE A DOUBLE BED

I really want to know all the snail names, since not everybody died this ep

I love that we're kind of going back to "suggestions" again, what with Tango killing Skizz and Martyn making snails invisible just for kicks. It feels like 3L and it's so fun.

I was so excited for Bdubs angst hour only for him to change his mind and not feel bad about anything after all

Etho's monologue 😂. The reason the go for you early is because they see you as a threat, not because they think you're not tough OMG.

Etho don't die to a creeper in the life series challenge impossible

Watching PICS build a base was actually so refreshing. I love the snail gimmick very much but it was nice to watch a POV where they were actually doing some classic life series stuff

Scott predicting violence for the next ep is...concerning lol. I don't know what he's seeing that I'm not, but outside of wild card stuff it doesn't really feel like we're at that point just yet

Actually I wouldn't put it past Tango to go wild. I'm just not sure the other Tuff Guys will follow him

I will be quoting "He's coming and he has only violence in his heart" from now on thank you Scott

Joel saying they have no enemies is so funny. The reason you don't have any enemies is cause everyone is too scared to cross you 😂.

Gem being excited about her snail while everyone else panics is iconic I love her

Joel giving Skizz a PVP lesson is so funny because Skizz *can* PVP from what I recall (I haven't seen a lot of Skizz so I could be wrong here)

Jimmy blowing up the car in front of Joel, Gem and Etho is the definition of "history doesn't repeat itself, it rhymes"

Lizzie I love you but you need to turn down something on your texture pack because everything is so bright

Bdubs manufacturing Tuff Guy behavior killed me. All of the Tuff Guys are such wet cats I love them <3

I've never watched Empires, but the bit where Jimmy gets blown up by a creeper has such powerful older sister/younger brother energy that I think I might have to headcanon them as siblings now

Scar and Lizzie being in the caves for the introduction of the snails and trying to figure out what's going on feels like a horror movie premise. People mysteriously dying to snail related stuff, and then a mob that's not in the game shows up and looks similar to the other person you're with and is following you around...

Team Bam/The Bamboozlers are as chaotic and struggling as hard as I expected. I don't actually want Lizzie to loose her teammates because I want everybody in until the last session, but it would be really funny if she did.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 8

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.8

“You’ve been down here forever PhD. Maybe you should… I dunno, leave your evil basement sub-lab? Maybe eat something other than an entire tube of toothpaste?”

“This isn’t toothpaste. It’s a calorie-rich blended solution formulated specifically for daily nutrition, in a convenient tube to avoid the need for cutlery.”

“Doc. Read the label.”

“...”

“You should probably sleep too if you mixed those up.”

“You’re just trying to get me to leave so you can escape.”

“I’ve broken out of county jail, the trunk of a sinking car, a shipping crate, cement shoes, and even my loan sharks book club meeting. But this? A forcefield? A real, no-shit forcefield? I don’t have anything for that… anymore.”

“What was that last part?”

“I said I can’t break out of sci-fi prison. Go to bed already, Doc - it’d be a lot easier for me to sleep too if you weren’t hovering over there, looking at me all sad like I’m some stray at the pound about to be put down.”

“Fine, but don’t go anywhere.”

“Well there goes my plans for the night.”

“...What plans?”

“For the fifth time, it’s called sarcasm.”

“Now that I think about it, I think I still have an invention I need to calibrate…”

“Specs was right; how did you survive out here by yourself?”

(...)

“Thanks for helping me clean the place up, Fiddleford. I’ll admit, I’ve been putting it off for a while now.”

“You don’t say… You know, you still haven’t told me what that extra level in your basement is for.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s a private study.”

“You’re so secretive about it.”

“Private study.”

“Alright, alright.”

“After we’re done here, I have an anomaly in the woods I need to check out; would you be willing to keep an eye on the house and the lab while I’m gone?” 

“I have no problem making sure your brother doesn’t disappear into thin air, of course I’ll stay back for your peace of mind.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what you meant - oh don’t make that face at me. I’m not trying to make fun of you, I think it’s… Endearing, that you care so much even if you have the worst ways of showing it.”

“...Just keep an eye on the house. And maybe go down there every so often to interact with him, the isolation isn’t doing him many favours.”

“How did your last talk with him go?”

“He’s still convinced that I’m grieving over my ‘real’ twin, and using him as a substitute because we look alike. He can acknowledge that the timeline and traits line up, and that he himself has a missing past, but he still thinks he’s a ‘Malone’ and not a ‘Pines’. I don’t know why he’s being so resistant to the possibility…”

"You know... 'Stan Malone' sounds mighty similar to 'Standalone'. 

*Ford facepalms*

“I thought it was clever.”

“It is, that’s why I’m mad.”

(...)

“-and it’s actually called ‘Backupsmor’? That’s its name?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. They didn’t even bother hiding what they were huh?”

“I suppose so. What about you, Stan?”

“Pft, I didn’t go to college. I’m… pretty sure? I didn’t graduate high school.”

“You’re not fully sure?”

“F, I can only remember back when I was 17, and I was already living on the streets. I don’t think I could have graduated by then. Not like it would have helped me.”

“17, you say? Interesting…”

“What about you? Your whole family full of geniuses like you?”

“Everyone’s… smart in their own way. I’m the only member of my family to attend college, however. The rest of my family works on a hog farm.”

“That’s pretty cool, striking it out on your own.”

“Mighty kind of you to-.”

“Good-looking, smart, and independent? I like that in a-.”

“I’m back!”

*Fiddleford hastily presses the mute button on the containment unit*

“Stanford, you’re back! How was it?”

“I was hoping it was something new, but it was just the gnomes trying to utilize the size changing crystals. How were things here?”

"I was just getting more information on what past he does remember- didn’t rightly get much because he is such a flirt."

"He's only doing it to a) make you uncomfortable, b) make you let your guard down, or c) charm you enough to convince you to free him."

"Well he hasn't quite succeeded on any of those. Does he flirt with you?"

"That's disgusting, Fiddleford. I don't know how you do things in Tennessee, but here it is improper for siblings to-."

“Genius, didn't you just say he doesn't believe you're related?"

“Somewhere in there he must still know I'm his brother. Which is a good thing for us because his memories can't be buried too deep."

TAPTAPTAP

*Fiddleford presses the mute button of the cell to unmute it*

“No, that's not it. That motherfucker is ugly.”

“Ugly? We have the same face!”

“Yeah, but on you it doesn't work.”

To be continued...

[raconteur-wanpi]

One Piece 1131

It's finally here after the 2 week break!

I'm glad we begin right where we left off, with Luffy and Loki finally having a proper interaction! This instantly made me laugh, Luffy is a certified yapper. His true power really is responding to the most serious and broody of intimidating figures with his silly guy ADHD and making fools out of these try-hards by annoying them. He really is a walking cartoon! I just knew in my heart, turning the page, Loki would cut him off by telling him to shut-up already. This is a classic bit and I live for it.

This also instantly kinda makes Loki more fun of a character to me lmao. Being presented with a scary guy only to immediately kinda make fun of him is Oda's expertise. Nobody is immune to being laughed at a bit, and it does instantly make Loki more charming.

He soon confirms what fans have been theorizing since Water 7; that the Yggdrasil-style-tree that encompasses Elbaf is the Treasure Tree Adam! Nice to finally know for sure, it'll be interesting for the Sunny in a sense to have returned to its "birthplace".

Also interesting how he introduces himself as the "pride of Elbaf's strength" when in the last chapter we learn of him as the "shame of Elbaf". Is it his own ego? Trying to twist the way his people see him? Is this him being a liar similar to Usopp, exaggerating who he is? Or is it his own delusions? It's an interesting contrast, I wonder what the language used here is in the original Japanese.

Loki is also, well... extremely Luffy-like in some ways actually. Being introduced as a "sun god", getting new people's names wrong, and as we'll see later, befriending wild beastly animals... This is an extremely interesting parallel. It seems to me they're already sides of the same coin, and I am soooo intrigued by it going forward.

It seems Loki has really met his match, and I doubt he expected someone like that to show up. Luffy responds to the beasts with nostalgia instead of fear, I wonder how that make the "accursed prince" feel...

Interestingly enough, Loki seems to have a sort of cult or following of human-sized people dedicated to him! They call him master and listen to his commands... maybe they're people who really see him as the Sun God?

Luffy immediately tames the beasts, like he did back during the timeskip! Of course, once he hears Loki insulting Shanks, his good mood seems to go away.

Loki also pulls a "I'm just joking bro, I'm just a silly guy c'moooon, you wouldn't punch a guy tied to a tree would ya? A birthday boy?" when he realized Luffy is actually pretty powerful. Good 'ol Schrodinger's douchebag. He does showcase a lot of duality, acting all mighty and smug towards "puny humans", but then his facade breaks a few times, he twists his reputation and claims he's just joking etc, it does fit the idea of a "trickster" a lot, considering his mythological basis. I'm still struggling to grasp his true personality and goals, and while he does speak the way you'd a expect a villain would... he kind of doesn't feel like he's going to be the main obstacle of the arc to me, and I can't truly explain why.

He also, interestingly, seems to have a negative bounty!? If I read that right, at least. Perhaps the government's way of saying "we don't want him, if you bring him in YOU'LL have to pay us to deal with him" or something??? We'll see if it's indeed a minus or not, it is described as a "special bounty".

Back to the Strawhats on the bridge, Gerd, Goldberg and Rodo seem to be rushing out with the Sunny as fast as possible. I'm assuming they're trying to get to where Harjudin is and explain the situation to him, considering that the ship belongs to their crew's grand fleet commanders. These two are probably mad as hell at Rodo lol. I can't tell if they're chasing him angrily here or what, haha.

Despite Usopp's insistence (and him being correct as always) the group still decides to run away from these giants. Oh Usopp, if only they listened to you, this debacle would be over much quicker. As per usual.

Speaking of Harjudin (and the one missing member of his crew, Stansen), here they are! They're in the same area actually, going for a hunt so they can prepare a feast for the Strawhats! That's kinda sweet, I wonder how the reunion of all separated groups so far will happen.

I wonder if it'll end up going to disaster because of Luffy accidentally freeing Loki or something. Loki did try to convince Luffy to find the key to his seastone chains earlier, but Luffy seemed to kinda ignore him. I wonder if Luffy will end up actually being manipulated, especially after Loki insulted Shanks and pissed him off. Then again, Luffy not only forgives easily, but he is also convinced easily, so who knows!

Back to the giants' ship...... oooooh my god. I think I almost cried. My heart expanded in size seeing this alone, you have no idea how happy I am. She's back. Our girl cut her hair so Saul will recognize her....shut up. Shut UP. That's so sweet, I think I am going to explode. Welcome back bangs Robin I missed you so much. This better be permanent!!!

In which Franky is literally me. I knew it before they confirmed it, it really is about meeting Saul........ I'm going to explode.

But uuuh, bad news. Saul might.... not be in good health? Did he get injured? What does this mean. I swear to god, if something happens to him before Robin gets to see him......... Please god tell me this is going to just be a bit or something, oh god. Ending the chapter here, huh? Straight up evil!!!!

Anyway, I am soooo looking forward the next chapter. I am still... on the fence about Loki being the main Bad Guy. He clearly thinks of himself as a grand destructive force, yes, and looks down upon "puny humans" and the such, sure, and even contemplates about killing Luffy after he is freed if need be, but... I'm just so suspicious of the way he's introduced. Maybe he'll be more of a morally gray anti-hero, or a temporary antagonist. Maybe I'm wrong and he'll indeed be the next pure-evil Doflamingo type threat. But maybe he could even be a "redeemable" Bellamy type character instead. I have no clue, it's way too early to tell. But just seeing the way Luffy just kinda chills with him in some of the panels in this chapter.... I'm kinda hoping it's the latter, they have a charming dynamic. They're already so similar, surely there's more to Loki's story.

After all, this is the guy that was infatuated with a lovable character we know dearly as the audience, Lola, to the point of denying to marry her identical sister. That tells me there's more to this guy than meets the eye. Am I reading too much into it? I could be completely off the mark, but we'll see!

[bloodweavefangnatic]

Wyll’s remarks about Astarion, such as his comment about Astarion having nice hair, come off as more platonic or neutral. While Wyll might acknowledge Astarion’s attractiveness, something the vampire doesn’t already know 😂, there’s no indication that these comments carry the same kind of sexual tension or romantic interest that Astarion expresses toward Wyll. These remarks are more likely to be seen as lighthearted compliments, something that could be said by a friend or acquaintance rather than an indication of deeper romantic feelings.

Astarion, on the other hand, makes several flirtatious comments toward Wyll, hinting at a potential romantic or sexual attraction. He openly mentions that Wyll would have been his type before he became a vampire, — which is kind of sad because I think Wyll would have loved him more as a human than a vampire and I feel like that’s a little racist because canonically (not talking about playing Wyll’s origin run, if you want to romance Astarion go for your life) but I don’t think he’d want to do anything with him because of what his kind does and the fact that he’s a monster hunter but then again this is just my theory/HC I don’t know it for a fact but I know the attraction is definitely one-side either way it’s looked at — and there are moments where Astarion expresses clear desire or admiration for Wyll’s physical appearance. This interaction is much more overt and can be interpreted as a romantic or sexual interest. (Like the question is does he just want to bed Wyll as one night stand or does he genuinely have deep-rooted feelings for him?)

Even if Wyll did harbor feelings for Astarion, it raises the question: why was he so consistently harsh toward him throughout Acts 1 and 2? Wyll’s behavior towards him only starts to shift in Act 3, after Astarion kills Cazador and chooses to remain a spawn (which is actually understandable even because I don’t exactly like Ascended Astarion either, so kudos to Wyll 😂) However, this shift doesn’t come across as a true companionship or genuine change of heart—it feels more like a reward or acknowledgment of Astarion’s “good behavior.” (Pretty much similar as to how Mizora treats Wyll with the ‘reward method’ like a dog)

By waiting until after Astarion has undergone intense personal growth to offer any kind of warmth — which is kind of manipulative on the warlock’s part — Wyll’s change in attitude feels less like a romantic development and more like belated approval.

This shift misses the mark if the intent was to create a compelling connection between them. Instead of building a relationship over time, it feels as if Wyll’s attitude change only emerges in response to Astarion’s actions, which doesn’t have the depth or complexity expected in a confession of feelings.

Self note: Don’t get me started on the whole “well it could be an enemies to lovers thing”. Yeah, you could be right but that’s what happened between Lae’zel & Shadowheart as well as Karlach & Wyll but at least they made a truce in Act 1

Wyll repeatedly “teases” (I wouldn’t even call it that considering his tone is not animated ) Astarion about his “dietary life” even though he explicitly explains to the player/leader of the group — very early on after being found out about his true nature — “I hunt deer, boar, or kobolds whatever I can get. I’m just a little slow right now” which, now that I think about it, I honestly I feel like that’s the only part Wyll heard: ‘I’m a little slow’ it would explain why he acts this way towards Astarion either that or he’s internally panicking (not for himself) but people around him because there is a “slow” vampire who hasn’t fed yet, but is too weak to go after any animal. Thats not the worst part, Wyll, who is only a short distance from Astarion’s tent — one tent away — perhaps chose to ignored his explanation, most likely not wanting to hear to excuses or manipulation (in Wyll’s eyes) because to him a bloodthirsty vampire is a bloodthirsty vampire; self control or not it didn’t matter to him

Another thing is when Astarion mentions that he’s feeling hungry, a day or so later, Wyll instantly remarks that he should settle for “vagrant chicken,” straight off the bat and absolutely no tactfulness, as if unaware or indifferent to Astarion’s efforts to avoid feeding on innocents. This could have been especially harsh for Astarion — considering how much he resents being told what to do— a reminder of his time under Cazador’s control, particularly when he had no choice having to obey his commands (lest he gets punished for not doing so 🥺)

The dynamic becomes even more complicated when the player (save for playing as Karlach) goes up to Astarion, telling him: “You can feed on me.”. Every time it comes up, Wyll doesn’t protest or intervene, despite his earlier jabs about the vampire’s source of ‘food’. There’s no protective or disapproving response from him; instead, he stands by and allows it to happen. This feels less like a typical “enemies-to-lovers” banter and more like an ongoing pattern of unnecessary antagonism. It, to me, actually felt more like a “the ruler can do whatever they want and the person won’t interfere” thing, which isn’t far fetched to being a leader of the companions

Conclusion:

It’s important to note that Baldur’s Gate 3 is a game driven by player choice, meaning there is no definitive “canon” relationship between characters. Since each player can make different decisions and pursue different companions, any pairing, such as “Wyllstarion,” is subjective and depends on the individual player’s choices. The game doesn’t establish any specific romantic relationships as official canon, as characters do not form relationships with one another outside of the player’s actions. This flexibility allows players to experience a variety of possible relationships, and no particular outcome is considered the game’s “canon.”.

That’s like me saying “Starlach and Bloodweave are definitely canon,” but someone else might argue, “No way, it’s all about Shadowarrior — Shadowheart and Lae’zel” or “Fieryblade, Wyll x Karlach, is definitely the better option” etc. Everyone has their own interpretation of what feels right or “canon” to them. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer because the game lets you build your own story, and what feels like a natural pairing for one person might not for someone else.

More evidence that Wyll and Astarion are basically canon :p But no Wyll, no Asty kisses for you >:c Not this time.

[ficandkaboodle]

Okay but after making my whole summary of Gonst character breakdowns, it’s got me wondering more than before: Would Copia have turned out any better if Sister had kept him and raised him herself?? (Warning: This post is long by way of me meandering)

I’m just talking rubber duck debugging-style here, I’m not expecting to or even necessarily hoping to come to any kind of fixed conclusion. But Cardi’s current tendencies are absolutely a product of how he grew up: He craves attention, he depends heavily on more decidedly childish activities and comforts, he is socially awkward as balls.

So obviously things would be different if he’d been brought up by Sister. But how different? And would that have been any better for Copia’s sense of self-worth or how he interacts with the world?

Personally, I think no. If anything, in a really sad and arguably disturbing way, how things turned out might’ve been the lesser of two evils. Still a fucked up evil, but the somewhat more survivable one.

In spite of everything she’s said and done, Sister Imperator did love Copia. She just expressed it in a way that wasn’t exactly conducive to his anxieties or just overall respect for him as an adult with needs, sensitivities, and the complexities that come with having the life he’d had. She loved him, but she loved him in a way that aligned with her mannerisms.

We don’t know Sister’s story. We likely never will, at least not in full. But it’s safe to assume that if Sister wasn’t born into the Church, she was definitely brought to it at a defining age and was either bred to or was deemed competent enough to lead it as Imperator. As a result, the Church and its goals became her mission. She might not have started it, but it was her first baby. The irony being that by dedicating herself as staunchly and one-track-minded as she did, she neglected to celebrate it as humanely as she could beyond perhaps just the lust-indulgence.

I will be the first to admit I know virtually nothing about Satanism. But…I dunno, most of the Emeriti (save Primo) seem to be on a similar page on how to interact with their faith: Secondo celebrates indulgence, Terzo embraces the importance of the self and being your own ruler while also being kind to others, and Copia would end rituals reminding people to do both. Sister stands out in that she’s more focused on all work, very little play. As a result, most of what we see of her comes off as very bureaucratic. Business-minded. She’s always thinking of how to keep the Church from fading into obscurity.

As a result of how many of her decisions seem to always have a thread tying back to the Church's well-being, I'd dare say this means more personal decisions tend to be a bit more . . . I wouldn't say "impulsive", but they certainly aren't running on all cylinders if you get what I'm saying.

At any rate, I wouldn't necessarily say the business-mindedness disrupts any maternal instinct in her per se. It could be. But honestly, I don’t think Sister is necessarily cut out for motherhood by nature. And that’s okay! Not every person is meant to be a parent, and AFAB women especially bear the brunt of criticism when they don’t display motherly affection or instinct. Even if she wanted to be more present, I don’t think her mindset would have allowed it to be as easy. And y’all, motherhood is hard enough on its own and under normal circumstances.

Bureaucracy suits Sister because she wants to be there.

What I find interesting is that Sister carried Copia and his twin to term when she didn't have to. So some part of her probably did want to have children. Or maybe she went into it recognizing the importance of having heirs: Legacy is a recurring theme in Ghost's characterization, even if some characters wind up misusing or misunderstanding it.

Ultimately, though, she gave them up and kept her distance except for in the one way she understood how to interact with people: Bureaucratically. And Copia responded to it well (probably because, I dunno, he didn't even know they were blood-related).

Regardless, I think that in a way, the fact this was met positively assured Sister that this was a proper way to go in a sense.

In a way, her giving Cardi the antipapacy is her trying to be a good mother and give him a gift. Yeah, it's a gift coming 50-something years late but the intention was there, I guess. However, it comes at the cost of having his brothers offed to assure no radicalism. Copia doesn’t seem to mind (or at least isn’t written to) but the fact still stands: That’s fucked up, Sister, you can’t go around killing your child’s half-brothers to get him the job.

So now this leads me back to the question I posited earlier: How would things have been different if Sister had decided to keep Copia? Well . . .

I think, had Sister raised Copia herself, Copia would've turned out . . . worse.

He would have likely been more “confident”, but it would’ve been horrifically twisted in and of itself. He’d grow up knowing he was part of the Imperator line (or simply known as Sister Imperator's son at the very least) and that would probably make him feel entitled. He’s essentially a little satanic prince, nobody can tell him no. Nobody who wants to live, anyway.

But he’d also be incredibly lonely. Like, more so than he already is. He may not have friends in the canon but he does have admirers who are drawn to him for his kindness and his willingness to be a bit of a goof. He'd probably be much more depressed than Canon Copia is implied to have familiarity with, and probably sucks even harder at dealing with it. He doesn't have anyone to confide in, and I think he'd never want anyone to know his vulnerabilities because he's the goddamn Imperator's son.

I think in the Copia Imperator timeline, he’d have “friends” but it’s mostly just for clout and/or fear. They're Yes Men he has orgies with essentially and carts around on the Ministry Black Card. He doesn’t have much appeal because he’s a manchild but in an extremely bratty way.

The charm we get from Canon Copia's childish tendencies are completely gone because Canon Copia's antics are the result of coping mechanisms mixed with a mother that coddles him because she doesn't trust him as an adult or see him as much beyond the baby she gave up. In the Copia Imperator timeline, he'd be enabled and probably not given very much reason to be a better person or mature.

Also, he’d probably be more down to kill. I know it's easy to assume this because bratty manchild with power frequently equals a lack of respect for life, but I also think him watching Mommy have people killed off for convenience would have put into his head that he can do the same. Only when Sister does it, it's for the "good" of the Church. If Copia does it, it's probably because he feels that person wronged him. Even if he still had some goofy traits, he’d be reluctant to display them and take anyone witnessing them as slights.

And given Sister’s penchant for putting work above all else, yeah, I think she’d hire nannies. Which wouldn’t likely be conducive to their relationship, so he becomes desperate for her attention and tries to be more like her. He still has Cardi’s mindset that if he does this thing right, he’ll be loved but I think in a weird way, he’d be more cutthroat about it. Probably because he witnessed his mother do the same up close (or as close as he can get from an emotionally and sometimes physically distant mother).

Which means there's probably a huge possibility that, in this timeline, he's more likely to be directly responsible for Papas 1-3s' deaths.

But I dunno, that's just my onion.

We don't know why Copia is as decent as he is, though. We can't say for sure if it's a nature vs nurture thing because as much as we can try and piece things together, we ultimately know nothing of his life growing up. We don't know if he'd been raised by or had a very kind adult in his life, or if he tried being mean and just frankly didn't like it. We don't know if anything from being raised as an orphan impacted his empathy or sympathy.

So obviously, this is all just what I puzzled together from traits of Sister's and how they might translate into motherhood as done by her, and what traits could therefore emerge in her child. How close to the mark I hit is subjective because that's fanon/speculation, baby.

(Though I think there's quite a few of you out there who would've probably loved to have seen Copia acting in this manner.)

Would Sister "raising" Copia have made for a more interesting storyline? Possibly. But as a person, Copia's probably better off this way. Which is depressing considering it's still left him spending most of his life not knowing who his parents were; likely developing a conviction that he's only as good as what he can succeed at; developing thanatophobia in connection to his need to be successful; and also having to recognize that his mother had his half-brothers killed off both to assure his ascendancy and to turn a profit.

Suffice it to say, no one is well. But at least he turned out cute, right?

TL;DR: Sister's focus on the Church and probable incompatibility with a particularly affectionate motherhood affects her relationship in the canon timeline. If she'd kept Copia, he might've turned out worse as a person -- and probably have left him to nannies anyway. This was probably the best possible outcome that could be made based on her poor communication and decision-making when it comes to things outside of her faith.

But that's just my opinion, I could very well be wrong lol

[dawnbreakerluna]

i was inspired by many creators talking about this but here are some of my formal criticisms of l&ds because no matter how much i love this game and find it near-perfect, there are still flaws!

zayne's english voice lines. while it didn't bother me on the level that it did most in the past, i do think infold could do a great service of rerecording the interaction lines. they finally found the right footing for his tone and how to capture his character with the later affinity content and the recent events / main story chapter. please! i beg! (i'm already aware the localization isn't top tier but i feel this is a somewhat doable fix, though tedious.)

the timing of banners. in this economy? insane. also i'm gonna be real, i'm unemployed right now (it was an unfortunate circumstance) and my means of finding a proper job is honestly difficult with my full load of classes. it's hard being a f2p player especially when the rewards for grinding isn't as hefty as i'd like it to be. i think it's decent for what it is right now, but it could be better. also... they need to space this shit out. LMAO. i've played my fair share of gacha and otome games, yes, but with how fast-paced the updates for this game is, infold could at least offer some more in-game benefits or rewards. (ex. giving out free 10 pulls... if you're going to do a quad banner, i wouldn't mind 40 free pulls as i could just grind the rest during the duration of that event.)

increasing rewards for daily tasks/challenges/etc. because what am i gonna do with 30-50 gens per card upgrade, and so on and so forth. i also would like a new update to the abyssal chaos deductions. maybe upgrade the rewards cap since so many of us (i assume) have already maxed it out. unfortunately as a girlie who fucking loves hack and slash games, abyssal chaos is my favorite game mode and it doesn't stress me out. (a bitch is STRUGGLING with her protocore levels right now.)

infold's stance on lgbtq+ fan content. i already wrote a post here somewhat related to this. while i'm talking fans specifically, infold's stance is what i feel significantly influences the homophobic behavior. yes, we know it's an otome game. yes, we know what otome means. but i just call it what it is and i think the love interests are not confined to strict heterosexuality and the norms of it.

the characterization and treatment of the LIs. i'll be honest one of the huge turn offs for me for rafayel is the way the mc's responses are programmed towards him. while i don't mind banter in the way that it's done for zayne/sylus, i don't like how snarky it is on the player's end for rafayel. also, i know i'm a pervert on the main but i do think infold could chill a bit on the hypersexualization in certain instances (sylus). because there's no way you're gonna give me 50% and then not fulfill the rest. this is the worst kind of foreplay.

i've seen a few instances of people from cn explaining that there's setbacks due to cultural norms, etc. that would prevent something like a card with fully explicit sex being made. that's why there's only sexually implicit content. (if anyone could provide context on this or confirm, do add!) ((yes, i've seen the car sex card from mqlc... need that with zayne actually.))

every day i'm thankful for the misty invasions event, but i still have hope for more. i guess what i'm trying to say is that infold is already on a good run with making this game as to appeal to a more mature audience, yet... THERE COULD BE MORE. idk.

[marshalllir]

Finally, thanks for the apology! It's a pity, of course, that you didn't create your own post, but continue to write under the artist's post (and write hate words to them for their work) and don't tag anyone so that no one will even see this post in the end. But I'll do it for you, don't thank me. @frankbigfan @kr9vorebeazt @dicktat @hostik

If you want to answer, answer my post, and leave dott-fox alone in a good way.

You apologize to everyone, but you keep insulting one of us. It's disrespectful and unfair, to say the least, and it would be strange to think that after all my posts, I won't defend they.

The freedom of one person is pumped where the freedom of another person begins. Of course, you have the right to do what you like (by the way, are you going to apologize for pdf content?). You're just being asked to get away from people and stop pestering everyone with your beloved Frank. None of us hate Frank, but the way you've been trying to shove him down our throats for two years makes us all sick, and some of us really started hating Frank because of this whole situation, which wasn't the case until now.

Read more:

There are quite a lot of works on AO3 and on the ficbook where Frank is mentioned, I know artists who painted Frank, yes, it was a long time ago, but the fact remains that there is content with Frank.

Creating any kind of fandom creativity isn't a snap of the fingers. It's hours and hours of work, hard work. You wouldn't like it if people came to you in comments on your art and fucked up why you don't draw Juan, Aitor, Williams, Brooks - any other less popular characters. So you stop imposing on people. Or, learn to respect the work of other people and offer money for commissions, rather than asking for free requests that no one is obliged to draw for you.

Popular ships in fandoms are a fact. Once upon a time, there were only a couple of works about Haiden, and no one knew about them. People were united by love and interest in them. Find like-minded people. You will not be able to impose interest on people. You will only alienate people from yourself by such behavior. It's normal that a particular ship or character doesn't find popularity, and it's stupid to get mad at it. Make content yourself or pay money to other people, respecting their time and work, if you can't do it yourself.

You don't need to hide behind your problems with interacting with society. None of us hide behind diagnoses, for example, and you shouldn't try to make yourself a victim. Everything that is happening now is just the result of your actions. Accept it and stop fidgeting like you're in a frying pan.

Don't judge other people by yourself, especially their age. Absolutely all the participants in the conflict are older than you. Many are already of age, and some are well over 20 years old.

And yes, no one called you names or got personal. We didn't bully you. We only pointed out your actions and words without touching your personality in any way. So don't lie that someone told you to "fuck you bitch idiot" or attach screenshots where someone actually did it.

~~~

Наконец-то спасибо за извинения! Жаль конечно, что ты не создала свой собственный пост, а продолжаешь писать под постом художника (и писать ему слова ненависти за его творчество) и никого не тэгать так, что этого поста в итоге никто даже не увидит. Но я сделаю это за тебя, не благодари. Если хочешь отвечать, отвечай под мой пост, по-хорошему отстань от dott-fox.

Ты извиняешься перед всеми, но продолжаешь оскорблять одного из нас, это мягко говоря неуважительно и несправедливо и странно было бы считать, что после всех моих постов я не буду его защищать.

Свобода одного человека закачивается там, где начинается свобода другого человека. Конечно ты имеешь право делать то, что тебе нравится (кстати ты собираешься извиниться за пдф?). Тебя лишь просят отстать от людей и перестать приставать ко всем со своим любимым Фрэнком. Никто из нас не ненавидит Фрэнка, но от того, как настойчиво ты пытаешься два года запихнуть нам его в глотку - нас всех уже от этого тошнит, а некоторые действительно начали ненавидеть Фрэнка из-за всей этой ситуации, чего не было до этого момента.

На АО3 и на фикбуке достаточно много работ, где упоминается Фрэнк, я знаю художников, которые рисовали Фрэнка, да, это было давно, но факт остается фактом, контент с Фрэнком существует.

Создание любого фандомного творчества это не щелчок пальцев, это часы и часы работы, это труд. Тебе бы не понравилось, если бы люди приходили к тебе в комментарии к артам и доебывались, почему ты не рисуешь Хуана, Айтора, Уильямса, Брукса - да кого черт возьми угодно. Вот и ты перестань навязываться людям. Или же научись уважать труд других людей и предлагай деньги за коммишки, а не проси бесплатные реквесты, которые никто не обязан тебе рисовать.

Популярные пейринги в фандомах это факт. Когда-то и о хэйденах была всего пара работ и никто не зал о них. Людей объединила любовь и интерес к ним. Найди себе единомышленников. Ты не сможешь навязать людям интерес, ты только отторгнешь людей от себя таким поведением. Это нормально, что какой-то конкретный пейринг или персонаж не находит популярности, и злиться на это глупо. Делай контент сама или плати деньги другим людям, уважая их время и работу, если не можешь сделать этого сама.

Не нужно прикрываться своими проблемами с взаимодействием с обществом, никто из нас не прикрывается диагнозами, например, и тебе не следует пытаться делать из себя жертву. Все, что сейчас происходит это лишь результат твоих действий. Прими это и перестань вертеться как уж на сковородке.

Не суди других людей по себе, особенно об из возрасте. Абсолютно все участники конфликта старше тебя, многие уже совершеннолетние, а кому-то далеко за 20 лет.

И да, никто тебя не обзывал и не переходил на личности. Мы тебя не буллили, мы указывали лишь на твои действия и слова, никак не трогая твою личность. Так что не надо врать, что кто-то говорил тебе «fuck you bitch idiot» или прикрепляй скрины, где кто-то действительно это сделал.

[anomaliex]

I like to think that Riz is autistic (and maybe has adhd?), which greatly contributes to his social struggles pre Highschool, and him developing serious social competence later on kind of makes me think so even more? Words. This headcanon is very precious to me, for some reason.

Riz is initially presented as the socially awkward dorky briefcase kid, and though he grows into being more suave like his father (Brennan's words) and has really high insight and persuasion by the end of junior year he's still kind of a "weirdo", he's just gotten better at reading people and adjusting accordingly. And, like, understanding social structures and how to exploit them ("we don't need cool people. We just need a lot of dorks.")

My experience with autism and empathy and social interaction or whatever has been that allistic people, for some reason, seem to "just know" how to approach others and whether they're well received. It's like some kind of secret language that you're not in on, an instinctual knowledge that you for some reason lack, making you an outcast for reasons you genuinely don't really get. ("I don't have many friends even though I'm pretty social, which is weird.")

The way I've rationalised this is that they read tone, body language etc subconsciously, leading to them clocking things without really thinking about them too hard, whereas I can only do so with a conscious effort. I'm good at people reading, at picking up on non-verbal cues and remembering previous behaviour and breaks from patterns and analysing what they might mean and all that, but I had to actively teach myself that? It's something you have to learn if it doesn't come to you naturally, and I think as Riz mechanically levels up and increases his proficiency bonus and gains expertise and stuff, he's just gradually observing and memorising all these things in a very logical and objective way.

Additionally, he figures out how to adjust his own behaviour in ways that are appeasing to others. This means masking but it also means, like, learning how to suck up to people. He learns where to look so people think he's making normal eye contact, at what volume to keep his voice, which forms of stimming pass as "normal guy being bored" and which are "what a freak", and even to just not info dump at all unless he's in the right company no matter how bad he wants to (he doesn't shut up about his cases around his friends, though). This isn't necessarily a good thing, it's just a thing. I think that's part of growing up for a lot of autistic teenagers. This is how I interpret his persuasion, kinda, and it's notable that he's worse at this than insight. It's one thing to analyse and know what people think and want, it's another to actually get yourself to do it when it really goes against your nature.

There's also something to be said about his violent anger towards the rat grinders, and Kipperlilly specifically. Autistic teenager when someone drags his special interest (which is connected not only to his truest form of growth but also his personal view on justice) (in this case adventuring. I think it's gen just adventuring and investigating) through the mud:

(Why he doesn't like it is more nuanced than this expresses but I'm referring to like. How strong his emotional reaction is compared to how he usually acts lol. Also rigid morals and stuff are a symptom tm but hey.)

Ohhh I also think Fabian is autistic, but he happens to be more easily digestible for others because he's athletic and rich and stuff but gods does he also suck at people-ling initially (and honestly he never gets particularly good at it, he just happens to be charming and a good performer but that doesn't necessarily mean he knows what he's doing), especially with other teenagers (it probably doesn't help that he canonically went on adventures with his father for a while which is why he got into school a year later. This kid doesn't have any experience with people his age at the beginning) and oh god I got off track this sentence is really long. But, like, something something, neurodivergent (especially autistic) people tend to kinda flock together automatically? Which is why I think Riz decides Fabian is his best friend so quickly. They're very special to me.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Between Hermione, Ginny and Luna, who is the best-written girl character here in canon?

Not Ginny, I can tell you that. I mean, I know there are Ginny fans, and all power to anyone who likes her, go you, but I think it's telling that so many people thought her romance with Harry came out of nowhere. I also, just, in general, find her characterization lacking and inconsistent, which makes it impossible for me to be invested in her as a character. Ginny in the early books is an afterthought within her family that are all just, more interesting than her (yes, even the possession didn't make her interesting, Tom was interesting, Ginny, not so much). Then, Ginny of book 5 is passable, like, at least she has a character, though I would argue Quidditch & badassery does not a character make. Then in book 6 she just becomes an annoying bitchy pick-me that bends to Harry's every whim and is scared to cry in front of him and I find her in books 6 and 7 insufferable. Legit, I think the only reason Harry could date her is because he implies they only snogged when they were together without any actual talking.

Now, while I like Luna more than Hermione, that is a personal opinion based on my subjective preferences. I think Hermione is a well-written character (except for some sections in book 7, but that's true for Ron and Harry as well, it's a book 7 issue). She is interesting, flawed but clearly skilled. Yes, she is also kind of a pick-me-girl (like Ginny) but her character has more redeeming qualities and enough interesting meat to engage with that I don't find it as obnoxious. I like her thirst for knowledge, I like her ruthlessness, and I adore the fact that Hermione, who is the most reverent of authority in the trio is also the most unhinged one. I think she's fun, if annoying at times.

That being said, me personally finding a character annoying or obnoxious doesn't make them badly written. I think Hermione is competently written and would have to be the winner in this competition just because she has way more on-page presence to be a character.

Now, I love Luna, Luna is my favorite female character, and, like, the number 4 character overall. I truly adore her and think she is well-written for what she is — and what she is is an engaging side character. She is not a main character like Hermione, so she has much much less written about her. I still find her characterization the most consistent between the three and her backstory, traits, and emotions regarding her past are given more depth than Ginny and even Hermione on some fronts. Luna and her interactions with Harry are given more narrative weight than Harry and Ginny, and that's like, a little insane to think about considering Ginny is supposed to be his love interest.

So, like, I guess the objective answer is Hermione, but in my heart the answer is Luna.

[lavenderjewels]

im cool and normal (i repeatedly tell myself ‘yuuji will save megumi’ multiple times a day)

[royalarchivist]

Jaiden: Cucurucho, you have a lot of power, right?

Cucurucho: ...I don't know. Maybe.

Roier: Ah... Yes, you know, don't act like a dumbass, you have it. You have it, man. Eh?

Jaiden: Is there a way for us to protect all the Eggs? Do you know? I don't want anything to happen to the Eggs that happened to Bobby.

Cucurucho: Ha ha ha

Roier: WHAT? [Smacks Cucurucho]

Jaiden: [Bops him] Headpats.

Cucurucho: Maybe.

Jaiden: [Continues to bop him] Headpats. C'mon, I can get it out of you! Headpats! Chin scratches! Belly rubs!

Roier: [Joins Jaiden in bopping Cucurucho, chuckling and laughs]

Jaiden: Yeah? He's comin' around!

[Jaiden and Roier both laugh]

[biblicalhorror]

Aroace Riz real but also Fabian is SO clearly in love with him and Riz has no idea

[mamanbou]

i truly say this with no malice in my heart but black butler fans who think the series peaked at book of circus/that the circus didn't deserve their fate........... are 7 times out of 10 not really black-butler-as-a-whole fans and are very unwilling to engage with the main themes and characters of the series as a whole. BoC was a fantastic high and had tons of engaging characters but I've met people who still hate ciel bc he had doll killed and that is CRAZY. to love a side character so much that it renders you unwilling to let the main/objectively most complex and important character into your heart at all. I'm sorry that the circus died but even though they loved each other they were also child murderers- in doll's case she still is LOL- and their most important narrative role is their impact on ciel/snake (whose plotline ties back to ciel's ideas about lies becoming the truth, so still a ciel thing ultimately). anyways the best arcs are Green Witch because it's good and Book of Murder because it's funny