#tried my best to make this as coherent as possible

[misspelledwordswizard]

I understand that fairies like bright colors or objects, Since we always say that Hyrule is part fairy, imagine having something shiny in your hand and the poor boy, with his pupils enlarged like a cat on catnip, can't stop looking at the object as you slowly move it back and forth between here and there, entertained by the way our fairy boy follows it with his eyes

arkdkska I love fairy Hyrule, I loved writing this, thanks for the request!!

Fairy thing

The boy’s eyes moved rhythmically as the necklace swung, fixated on the movement, unable to notice anything else that was happening around him. He almost seemed to be fighting against it, but if that were true then he had already lost this battle a long time ago. My lips twitched instinctively as I watched him with almost as much focus as he was looking at the object in my hands.

I didn’t do it out of malice. It was just a tragic coincidence. We were talking quietly while not everyone else was awake. Naturally, since it was early in the morning, those who were already up were organizing themselves to speed up when we got back on the trail. In my case, I was finishing equipping accessories like belts, putting my sword and shield on my back, and even putting on my golden necklace that I sometimes wear. But, it just so happened that I was talking to Hyrule while I was doing this. I had no idea this could happen, at first I thought it was some kind of weird joke coming from him, until no matter how many times I called him, he couldn’t answer me, not coherently at least, being much more interested in the shiny object swinging. It didn’t take long for me to associate this with the Traveler’s fae side. This, though, was something I didn’t know much about, but I’d heard a few things about faeries, such as their fondness for shiny things, which seemed almost confirmed by this.

I was going to get it out of his sight as quickly as possible when I realized it, but he seemed so adorable like this. I know, a little cruel, but it didn’t really seem to bother him, maybe I should give it to him later as na apology. Do faeries hoard golden things like dragons? It would be curious to see.

— Rulie, what were you talking about? About using monster parts in meals. – I asked, testing how active his brain was.

— I... talking... – He tried, but couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

— Do you like that?

— ... Yes

I had to hold back a laugh. Okay, maybe it was really a little cruel. But it is indeed interesting, this whole fascination of his for shiny things. I think now I’ll have to start saving all the similar things I find to give to him. I wonder what other things about fairies are correct, does he like sweets? Does he burn himself with iron? When he’s talking in his fairy form does it sound like a bell?

— Rulie, what do you like? – I tried again.

— Shiny things... – He answered, still focused.

— What else?

— I like you...

The pendulum movement I was making with the necklace stopped in surprise. I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if this necklace thing was really starting to affect his poor brain, but it was enough to make my face hot as hell. I figured it was best to stop this.

— What’s going on? Why does the Traveler look so silly? – The Captain’s voice caught my attention, making me look away from the fairy boy.

— Oh, I think he likes shiny things. A little too much.

— And you’re using that against him? How cruel. – Wars replied in a mocking tone.

— Yeah, I’m stopping, that really was a bad idea. – I concluded, looking away to hide my blush.

I picked up the necklace, leaving it completely out of Hyrule’s sight, and I could see, out of the corner of my eye, him blinking rapidly, regaining consciousness. I intended to apologize, of course. For a moment I thought he didn’t remember what he had said, but then he stopped for a moment in pure shock, and his face became even redder than mine. His nervousness became visible as he began to move away and stutter, looking for na excuse to get out of there.

— Look, I’m... I’m going to help Time! Excuse me! – I saw him say blushing as he walked away. He definitely knows what he said.

— Geez, what’s came over him? – Wars asked, curious about the possible gossip. I shrugged, trying to avoid my own embarrassment.

— It must be a fairy thing.

[novemb-r]

Gunvor Hofmo (b. 30 June 1921 Oslo/Kristiania - d. 14 October 1995, Oslo) was a Norwegian writer considered among the country's most significant modernist poets. She eventually was named "Mørkets sangerske / songstress of darkness", being one of the leading poets of the post-war period, the horrors of the war and the loss of her Jewish lover Ruth Maier left a deep mark on the majority of her writing.

P.1: Gunvor Hofmo P.2: Gunvor Hofmo & Ruth Maier

Hofmo was only 19 when the war broke out, and several of her relatives were imprisoned or killed by the Germans. But perhaps the biggest loss was her lover, Ruth Maier, an Austrian Jewish woman born in 1920, who came to Norway as a refugee in 1939. A year later Hofmo met Maier at a voluntary work service at Biristrand, both being fond of writing, they quickly became friends. Eventually the two women became lovers and they traveled around Norway together, working from place to place, until they returned to Oslo sometime in 1942.

Ruth was arrested and sent to the Auschwitz extermination camp together with 532 other Norwegian Jews on the transport ship Danube on 26 November 1942. Gunvor followed her girlfriend to the dock and never heard from her again. Maier died 1. December 1942 in Auschwitz.

P. 1&2: Ruth Maier

Ruth wrote several diaries that Hofmo kept after her death. She made attempts to publish them in the post war period, but it was only after her passing in 1995 that Ruth Maier's diaries were discovered and later published in 2007.

The topic of homosexuality plays a role several times in her diaries, already at the age of thirteen, Ruth discussed same-sex love and desire with a friend in Vienna but was happy when she could push the subject away: "I think about how horrible it was when I went and thought about it. I looked it up in the encyclopedia. I asked Mutz [Ruth Maier's mother] too, but she said it's the kind of thing I don't understand. Thank God it's over now. Yes , if you don't have problems, you get them!" Later, after she had gotten to know Gunvor Hofmo in Norway, she would return to the topic.

Unlike Gunvor Hofmo, it is not easy to decide whether Ruth Maier was a lesbian or not, but her love for her was clear, she wrote of Hofmo in her diary several times:

In January 1941, she wrote: "Gunvor's eyes are dark blue. They are bottomless. […] The days are brighter when you love someone." In the autumn of the same year, she admitted that she could not imagine life without Gunvor.

Again in 1941, "I can't say how warm I feel with Gunvor. I love her deep eyes. I love her reserved way of talking about things. Gunvor is a valuable human being. I would sacrifice a lot to make her happy."

In her diary after Maier was admitted to Ullevål Hospital in Oslo after a nervous breakdown, the doctors asked her about her feelings for Gunvor Hofmo as well. In her diary, she noted: "I can't do anything for that I feel so deeply for her. The doctors must have thought that I in this regard have an unnatural inclination. That is not the case. What I feel for her is completely natural. I feel spiritually connected to her. There is not the slightest hint of physical lust in me. But it may be that I have a need for love that requires its expression, where Gunvor is a (dear)welcome object."

Gunvor Hofmo and her girlfriend Ruth Maier

After the war, in 1946, Gunvor Hofmo published her first collection of poems: Jeg vil hjem til menneskene / I want to go home to the humans.

It is here that we find the iconic post-war poem "Det er ingen hverdag mer / There is no everyday anymore":

God, if you still see: There is no everyday anymore. There is just silent screams, there is just black corpses that hang in red trees! Hear how quiet it is. We turn to go home but we always meet them. Everything we sense one day is the breath of the killed! If we in hiding go: it is their ashes that we tread. God, if you still see: There is no everyday anymore.

In the debut collection, as in all of Hofmo's later releases, it was grief and suffering that stood at the center.

In the post-war period, she was to become a long-term patient at Gaustad Hospital in Oslo. Doctors diagnosed her with "schizophrenia, paranoid form" in 1954. She was there for shorter and longer periods for 22 years - until she was discharged in 1975. Before and after this period, she produced a large number of poetry collections.

Just before she was admitted to Gaustad, she wrote one of her most famous poems, Jeg har våket / I have awakened. The last part of the poem, about Maier:

... I saw my friend, the only one, I saw her go to die. And since the trees have mourned, and since then Death has drawn my body and soul and voice into the sea of ​​despair!

In 1947, Hofmo began a long term relationship with Astrid Tollefsen (1897-1973) and became one of the first Norwegians living in an openly lesbian relationship. They continued to live and travel together until Hofmo was incapacitated and committed to Gaustad for her illness.

Afterwards there was a period of 16 years silence where she published no new work until she broke her silence with the collection 'Gjest på jorden / Guest on earth' in 1971.

She lived an anonymous life in the capital city, refusing to be interviewed nor did she read her work aloud. Her last years spent mostly in solitude and isolation apart from a few friends who were allowed in. She died suddenly in October 1995, debilitated by diabetes with which she had been struggling for a couple of years.

Hofmos work was little translated during her lifetime. And there seems to be no official translated works in English. (The poems you see on this post have been translated by me.)

Sources: x x x x

[echolavender]

WAIT

So I’ve been thinking about this quote from focalors

It’s been confusing me because the first and last line give the impression that she believes that she’s above everyone, but everything in between gives the impression that she believes her people to be able to judge a god like her.

But then it hit me…

she genuinely doesn’t believe that she can do anything wrong, like no one has ever tried to object to anything she’s ever said so she believes that shes superior to everyone.

And I think this is going to be a MAJOR part of the archon quest

“The god of justice lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the Devine.” - travail chapter

Back when she first stepped up as archon, The oceanids refused to accept her as their God she she straight up kills all but one of them 

She probably views anyone that dares to object to her as an enemy. 

You see Fontaine’s an awful place to live

Their waters are polluted, The laws extremely hard to understand and the court is said to be terrifying to face.

How much you want to bet that someone speaks out against her and/or starts a revolution of sorts and it all just goes to hell

[thegoogoomuckkk]

breakfast, lunch, & dinner pt. 1 -> the jjk men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro

choso maybe does a little bit too much research. he’s heard that some women don’t necessarily like getting head as much as other things. he can’t fathom this because you sucking his dick is about the most pleasurable thing he can think of besides being stuffed inside your cunt. regardless, he wants to do his very best to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as it is for him; he’s just so concerned he’ll do a bad job. & it makes no difference how much you assure him that “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, sweetie,” & that even if he does do a bad job, you won’t be upset. no, that only encourages him that he needs to make this as good as possible. so when he finally makes up his mind, he’ll let you know as straightforward as usual, probably a text that has you choking on your coffee at 10:00am: “i want to eat you out tonight y/n.” straight to the point, as usual. & of course you’re excited, but a swirl of nervousness begins coiling in your stomach. last time he had his head between your thighs, he was there for hours. 

he doesn’t like it when you talk, especially coherently, that means he’s not doing his job. “faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry. . .” “it feels good right, baby? am i doing good?” “shhh, s’okay, know you can cum for me again, pretty girl, don’t you wanna cum? i love it when you cum on my tongue, just for me.”

he tries to praise you, mimic the sweet things you say to him when you’re jerking him off or riding his cock, but he’s almost as fucked out as you are, & the praise never seems to sound as good spilling from his lips as it does from yours—at least, that’s what he thinks. but his soft spoken, sweet words cause your cunt to pulse against his tongue, so he tries for you anyways; tries anything, because if it gets you off, makes you feel even a fraction as good as you make him feel, he’s more than willing to do it!

he’s the type to eat you out until he loses track of time, cumming in his own pants once or twice, he doesn’t even need to put his cock in you. & it isn’t until you’re cross-eyed, sweaty, voice hoarse, & crying for him that he even considers stopping. “did it feel good?” if you had any energy, you’d smack him upside the head. 

if you were to ask nanami what his favorite thing to do in bed was, it would be–hands-down, without a doubt, easily—eating you out. of course, he’s a service top until the day he dies, but it’s more than that; he genuinely derives pleasure from making you feel good. after a long day of work, he comes home exhausted, bags under his eyes, muscles sore, & you’re thinking what you could do to make him feel better: a nice shower, a massage, & maybe—if he’d let you—sucking his dick. you’re pretty pleased with yourself about this little plan until you’ve got him in the bedroom, heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower & he’s tugging on your arm, pulling you down on the bed & wordlessly working off your pants. 

“kento? don’t you wanna shower first?” 

he shakes his head, “need to taste you, sweetheart, need it.” 

he hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs up & over his broad shoulders, making himself comfortable, in for the long haul.

his favorite is when you’ve sat down on him, hands gripping the headboard, mindlessly grinding against his face, chasing your own pleasure, head empty.  you feel bad sometimes, sitting on his face, or grinding your cunt against him, squeezing your thighs around his head, pulling his hair, but if anything, this adds to his enjoyment of it. he could sit with his head between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, & you always let him because he’s just so damn good at it; you don’t have to tell him what you want, what you need, because he already knows. 

he sticks his tongue into your tight hole, relishing, moaning at the way it spasms around it, working a finger in alongside it, curling it up to that special spot that has you throwing your head back & whining his name. sucking on your clit, almost meanly because he knows, he knows, how overstimulated you are, how it hurts so good. 

“you-you taste so good, pretty girl, s’good, please, n-no, don’t gotta run from it,” kiyotaka whines as you attempt to rock your hips up off the bed, obviously grinding his hips onto the bed, hoping you won’t notice. he’s just so eager, he needs you to cum against his face just one more time. he’s whining like a poor puppy when you pull on his hair. pathetic moans fill the air, & you’re losing it because there’s no technique, no method to the madness, just pure, sheer, utter desperation. & he’s apologizing into your soaking cunt as he ruts into the bed through his orgasm, potentially gaining more pleasure from this than you. it was always so easy to make kiyotaka feel good, just your moans of “more, more, so good, kiyo” had him whining into your pussy, palming his sore dick through his boxers. 

what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness; eager is the perfect word for the way kiyotaka eats you, tongue lying flat over & over on your slit, tongue slipping in & out of your puckering hole, thumb circling your clit constantly, overwhelming your poor cunt. 

it was rare that sukuna ate you out, not because he doesn’t like it, don’t get it twisted, but it’s so vulnerable of him, & he can’t fully control himself when he’s between your legs. he’s contrastingly gently, savoring every inch of you, alternating between sucking on your thighs, teasing you to no end, & assaulting your clit with his tongue & his fingers. he loves to have your hips in his hands, manhandling you how he wants, fingertips leaving bruises on your waist, growling when you whine out, “w-wait ‘kuna, s’too much,” because “isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” 

maybe you had wanted this, but you hadn’t expected him to go on for so long. you couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen sukuna have any form of patience, barely even prepping you before bullying his cocks into you, but here he was, taking his time with you, not even worried about his own pleasure, too enchanted by your honeyed pussy, just begging for him. 

he’ll never tell you this, but his favorite time to eat you out is when you’re on your period; he’ll disguise it by saying that it makes your scent stronger, but really he just wants to ease your pain & make you feel better.

god, he’s an asshole. don’t get it wrong, toji loves eating that sweet cunt of yours, but he also loves nothing more than teasing you. he’s got you on your knees, upper body resting on the sheets, pressing the chastest of kisses on your thighs, your folds, hands slowly gripping your ass, spreading it open for him, swirling his tongue around your puckered hole just above your pussy, pushing a finger in even though he knows you’re cunt is aching for him. he’ll get there. . .eventually. 

“nghh—n-no, toji, n-not there,” you whine, trying to pull away from his finger, but he just pushes it in deeper. 

“not there? where d’ya want in then, princess?” & fuck it, he knows where you want it, but he just can’t get over how perfect you are like this: needy, desperate, unabashed. you’re not afraid to beg for what you want. but he doesn’t give you time to ask. “you sure you aren’t just pretending not to like it? ‘cause your pussy clenches every time i put my finger in here.” he laughs meanly, but then he’s sticking his tongue in your pussy, licking fat stripes front to back, spitting on it, shaking his head all up in it. toji likes it when you give him messy head, & so of course he likes to return the favor.

you’re reaching down to rub your clit while he’s taking his sweet time getting you off & then he’s swatting your hand away because you’re gonna take what he gives you or get nothing at all.

no, your honor, i don't believe in writing ooc headcanons. . . did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[libraryofolive]

Let me take over!

featuring: sub!Suguru Geto x dom!fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp so 18+ MDNI!

word count: 740

synopsis: You finally convince Suguru to let you dom him, but it doesn't quite go as you expect.

warnings: its all smut, edging, mentions of overstim, unprotected sex, piv, mommy kink, riding, vibrator use

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

When Suguru Geto agreed to let you try to dom him, he thought he’d get a nice view of your tits bouncing as you impaled yourself on his cock, until you inevitably got tired and he’d take over once again, flipping you over to fuck you hard into the mattress, face down ass up.

What he didn’t expect was to be edged to the point of overstimulation, tears streaming down his beautiful face.

The malicious grin on your face was the antithesis to his expression, the vibrator in your hand loud, set on the highest setting as you brush it over Suguru’s flushed red tip. His body convulsed at the sensation, chest heaving as he tried to breath through the pleasure you not-so-sweetly administered, mouth open in a silent moan. Your smile widened at the sight of your lover completely at your mercy, vulnerable in a completely new way. Just the thought of it made your pussy throb.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, silently begging you for mercy. Unfortunately for him, any thought of mercy left your head when his cock twitched, a tell-tale sign that he was on the brink of an orgasm. You took this as a cue to rip the vibrator away from his dick, denying him of that last shred of stimulation needed to push him over the edge.

A loud whine fought its way out of his throat, the sound going to your core. “Please,” he whimpered, “I- I need, please, more. Cum - need to, need to cum.”

“Silly boy.” You giggled, “the only way you’re gonna cum is if it’s inside me.”

“Please.” he babbled more coherent nonsense as you straddled his meaty thighs, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length. Both of your moans were harmonious as you took him, the stretch painful in the best possible way. You exhaled deeply when your pelvises met, his dick fully sheathed inside you. Suguru was a mess, his head whipping from side to side as he got lost in the sensation of your tight cunt clenching around him. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the other tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, the loving gesture juxtaposing the lewd scene.

“You want to cum, baby?” Your tone was saccharine as you started to slowly rock your hips.

“Yes! Please, oh God please- let me cum, lemme cum mommy please!”

Your hips stuttered at his words - he was further gone than you thought, but God if you didn’t love it. You didn’t think you could get any wetter, yet slick was practically gushing out of you. “Oh,” you raised your eyebrow at him, your hips once again finding their rhythm, “you want mommy to make you cum? Ae you gonna be a good boy for mommy?” ”Yes! Please, I’ll- I’ll do anything, mommy please-” His begging, for there wasn't really any other word for it, felt like the world’s most powerful aphrodisiac. It had you circling your clit in a desperate effort to build up your own orgasm.

“Anything, hm? Well, you’re gonna hold it - ngh - til I say so.” Suguru just nodded, lost in the ecstasy of your body. You carried on riding him, fingering at your clit, feeling that pressure build and build and build until you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Cum- cum with me, baby, fill me u-” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before ropes of Suguru’s cum were decorating your womb, his eyes rolling towards the back of his head.

“Thank you, thank you thank you thank you-” He groaned as you worked yourself through your own orgasm, reaching your peak shortly after him. The sounds of shallow breathing filled the room as you both came down from your highs. You peeled yourself off your lover, a whine leaving him as you did so, and left to get a warm cloth to clean the both of you up.

Soon you were both cuddled into each other, back in the real world.

“So, you wanna talk about that?” You asked Suguru, a smile on your face. His became flushed as he groaned in embarrassment, hiding his face in your shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“What? It was hot. Didn’t know you liked that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, neither did I.”

[mapiforpresident]

Please Don’t Leave Me Part 2

Part 1

~~~

Alexia couldn’t hear anything besides ringing as she fell to the floor on her knees. 

“Ma’am, Mrs. Putellas, can you hear me? Y/n needs to be rushed into emergency surgery. I need your verbal consent as her wife to operate on her.” The doctor stood there trying to get Alexia coherent enough to listen to watch what she was saying.

Finally Alexia replied, “yes, yes do anything possible to save her please. I can’t live without her. Please help her.”

Hearing the commotion from the hallway, Mapi stepped out of Ingrid’s room just as the doctor rushed back into the room to take you to the operating room.

“Ale what happened? Is y/n ok, they said she was stable.” Mapi said becoming more frantic at why Alexia was balling her eyes out on the floor in the hallway instead of by your bedside. 

“She… she… her heart… they have… to operate… now. Her heart … it was beating so fast. I was just holding her hand … talking to her. I… I told her that I’m pregnant.” Mapi let out a gasp at this, handing going to cover her mouth as the other pulled her best friend closer. “I found out this morning, I was planning… to tell her tonight. I had it all planned out. I bought a little Barca jersey with her number and everything. We’re going to be parents. We’re supposed to be parents together. I can’t do this without her. I can’t lose her. I can’t do this alone.” 

Mapi sat there in shock for a minute taking in what her best friend told her as she gave her as much comfort as was possible for the situation. Mapi knew that the two of you had been trying for a baby for over a year now. Alexia had confided in Mapi many times throughout the rough journey. There had already been many failed IVF attempts and this was going to be your final one. You and Alexia agreed to take a break if it didn’t work. She knew how excited Alexia must have been just that morning when she saw the test was positive. She also realized she and Ingrid were going to be aunts. She couldn’t imagine what her best friend was feeling now. Sure her wife was also in the crash, but Ingrid was for the most part ok and would just need a couple of months to heal. You were in much worse condition. Neither Mapi nor Alexia filling knew what the emergency surgery you were just rushed to even entailed. 

Mapi decided that sitting on the floor would not make either of them feel better, so she stood up. She then lifted her best friend up who gave little protest before leading her into Ingrid’s room. As soon as she entered the room with a sobbing Alexia, Ingrid’s face dropped.

“What happened, where’s Y/n. You told me she was stable. Oh my god,” she said, fearing the worst. She had never seen Alexia looking like this, she knew something terrible happened to you. She had actually been planning to get in a wheelchair and come visit you in a couple minutes. 

“Something happened and her heart started beating really rapidly. She is still alive, they just decided to operate on her now instead of waiting until tomorrow.” Mapi said as she led Alexia to sit in the chair in the corner of the room.

“I’m so sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry,” Alexia said as a fresh wave of sobs fell over her.

“It’s not your fault, Alexia. Y/n is strong, she will pull through. I know she will.” Ingrid said to both Alexia and herself. Her older sister is the strongest person that she knows. 

“It is my fault I was talking to her when it happened. I told her that she has to get better and that she can’t leave me b…because I’m…. I’m pregnant.” At this Alexia looked up at Ingrid for the first time. Ingrid was laying in the bed looking bruised and banged up, but overall ok, and Alexia was relieved to see her sister-in-law ok. She knew her and Ingrid would both need to lean on each other and Mapi no matter what happens. 

~~~

Alexia sat in the chair in the corner of Ingrid’s room for seven long hours, only moving once to silently go to the bathroom. Nurses came in and out of the room to check on Ingrid and Mapi tried to check on her a couple times, but Alexia couldn’t move or talk or think.

Finally a doctor slowly entered the room. She walked over to your wife and kneeled down in front of her.

“Mrs. Putellas, I’m so sorry. We did everything we possibly could. Y/n’s heart stopped twice during surgery, but the second time we were unable to get it restarted. She passed at 2:54 am. You can see her one final time if you would like, along with her sister and sister-in-law. Then we will have someone come and talk to you ok. Would you like to see her?”

Alexia sat there in complete shock. She knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t make it through the surgery, but to actually hear your time of death was a completely different thing. You were gone. The love of her life and the other mother of her child were actually gone. Just this morning you had woken up to Alexia placing kisses all over your face and you had gotten up to make the two of you breakfast. You had driven to practice together singing to a song on the radio that you had no idea what the words were and then telling her about a prank you wanted to pull on Mapi and Patri later that day. Now she would never look into your eyes again, hear your laugh again, kiss you again, sleep curled in your arms again, be in your presence again. 

She slowly nodded to the doctor. She wanted to say goodbye to you. She got up robotically following the doctor heading to see your now lifeless body one final time.

~~~

Alexia kept pictures of you all around the house. Your daughter Gracie loved looking at all the pictures of her other mom all around the house. She would always ask Alexia about you and Alexia was always happy to tell your daughter all about her brave, beautiful, athletic, intelligent mother. 

Gracie was currently sitting on the living room floor, in a toddler Barça jersey with your name and number on the back, playing with some magnetic blocks Pina had given her for christmas. Right as the tower fell over, the doorbell rang. “Mamí… someone’s at the door,” Gracie yelled to Alexia who was currently making dinner in the kitchen.

“I’m coming, I’m coming bebita, I think it might be someone here to visit you. Do you want to come help me open it?” You got up and ran over into your mamí’s awaiting arms. Alexia walked over to the door and swung it open revealing two of your favorite people.

“Tía Mapi, tía Ingrid, you made it,” Gracie said, practically launching herself into Ingrid’s arms. “Look at the jersey mamí gave me. I am five today. Mamí says I need a new big girl jersey because I’m a big girl now.”

“You are such a big girl, your mummy would be so proud of you Gracie. She would love this jersey,” Ingrid says as she peppers Gracie’s face with kisses as she carries her back into the living room. Just then Patri and Pina also walked into the house with a couple other Barça girls. Ingrid set her down so she could run to show off her new jersey to anyone that would listen.

Ingrid then walked into the kitchen to help Alexia finish preparing all the food as Mapi brought the way too many cupcakes she bought and set them on the counter. “She is getting so big, she looks and acts  more and more like y/n every day. I’m so happy how proud she is to wear her jersey,” Ingrid said as she worked alongside Alexia.

“I know, I can’t believe she is five already. I can’t believe y/n has been gone so long. I miss her so much everyday. I keep thinking it will be easier to live without her, but it never is. I don’t think I could have done this without Gracie.” Alexia looks over to see Patri throwing your daughter up in the air and catching her. She beams and all Alexia can see is your smile on her daughter's face. She lets out a few tears as Ingrid pulls her into a hug. 

“Y/n would be so proud of both of you. You have done an amazing job raising Gracie. She is watching over both of you and will continue to be proud of everything you both do. She loved you so much.”

“I know I just wish that she had the chance to be a mom. I want so bad to watch her be a mom. And I know Gracie loves me and our little family, but I know it hurts her sometimes to not know her other mother, especially when she comes home and talks about how all her friends have two parents. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair, to you or to Gracie, but you are both doing an amazing job and I know Y/n is here with us right now making fun of us for getting so emotional instead of eating the cupcakes.” Alexia lets out a teary smile at this. Just then Gracie appears in between them asking her mamí to pick her up.

“Mamí, why are you sad?” Gracie asks in her innocent little voice trying to help wipe Alexia’s tears away as Mapi pulls Ingrid into a comforting hug knowing that Ingrid missed her sister just as much as Alexia missed the love of her life. “I just miss your mummy, she would be so proud of how big you are bebita.”

“I miss mummy too. I want to be a goalie like her when I grow up.” 

“You will be the best goalkeeper Barcelona has ever seen bebita. Do you want to help me take drink orders for all your tía’s” Alexia asked, knowing you loved to go around with your little notepad and pretend to be a waitress. 

At this you wiggled out of your mamí’s grasp and ran back to the living room. Alexia watched as her daughter ran out of the room with your name on her back ready to watch Gracie continue to grow.

~~~ The happy ending will be out later today to make up for this!!!

[ravencantwrite]

Young Charles Xavier with anxious! Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, allusions to panic attacks, mentions of skin picking and nail-biting, overall tried to make it as fluffy as possible.

Talks to you telepathically when you're too overwhelmed to talk

The sound of people, the lights, the crowd, everything was too overwhelming tonight. But it wasn't even just that, suddenly, every problem you haven't managed to solve by the end of the week has now decided to demand an answer. Were you ever going to finish writing your papers? Are you doing a good enough job at your report? Why are you out, enjoying life when there's so much work to do? Too many questions were swirling around in your head that you couldn't answer. Too much doubt. Too much of everything.

But it wasn't just your thoughts, you were starting to react physically to all the stress and anxiety that you were feeling. It was difficult understanding if you were actually breathing, any effort at thinking was diverted to constantly remind yourself to manually breathe through your nose.

Charles knows that when this happens you're most likely not going to be able to give any coherent answers apart from single worded, 'yes' or 'no' answers. He lets you hold on to his arm, and regardless of how hard you hold on to him he doesn't let it show on his face. Instead, he uses his other hand to place his palm on your face, your hand gripping on to his wrist trying to ground yourself.

You can hear his voice trying to calm you down inside your head. "Listen to my voice love, tell me what's going on". And while your thoughts aren't any more coherent than your words he pieces everything together and somehow understands what you're trying to tell him.

Gets your lip balm and helps you avoid skin-picking and nail-biting

You're used to picking on the skin of your lips, or biting your nails whenever you're too nervous or preoccupied by your thoughts. By the end of it, you'd end up with blood running down your lips, and uneven nails and no matter how much you tried to avoid it you would unconsciously give in to these habits.

The first time Charles notices blood on your lips he's concerned. At first, he attributes it to the weather or maybe even dehydration, but when you open up to him about your skin-picking problem he becomes more observant. He keeps a lip balm with him at all times and offers it to you every time he realizes you're about to pick at your skin and tries to help you replace your urge to pick at something by either distracting you with random questions or getting you scratch cards.

As for your habit of nail biting, he decides to use a fun way for you to avoid it. He paints your nails for you with your favourite shade, taking his time with the paint brush, painting each stroke carefully so as to not paint your skin. And when you ask him if you could paint his nails too, he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face and happily lets you paint his nails.

"Now we've got matching nail colors too"

Helps you practice conversations

Talking to strangers was often uncomfortable. You got it most days but when you're very particularly anxious, or self-conscious where it's getting you to second guess everything and that's when you tend to avoid talking to people at all because of the amount of stress simply having a conversation could give you. But that's gotten you to miss out on things quite often, including even compromising on things you would have liked to do.

Charles is very careful when he approaches you about trying to practice conversations with him. He doesn't wish to make you feel any worse about it than you already do and tries his best to find the best ways to help you.

"Now, if you're anxious to talk to somebody I want you to take a deep breath, take a moment, and prepare a script on what you want to say. Can you try that with me, love?"

He's very encouraging, always giving you pointers on how you could improve. He makes sure that you know how glad he is that you're trying, and how glad he is that you were comfortable enough with him to try this.

[yxtubers]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: matt gets his wisdom teeth taken out, which makes him incredibly clingy

warnings/notes: reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ , that’s about it

requested?: yes!

> > >

Matt had been having tooth pains for weeks now. Every time you urged him to go to the dentist, he would just claim that he hated the dentist and that the pain wasn’t a big deal anyway.

Clearly he was wrong. Sitting next to him as he woke up from his anesthetic daze, you wished you could tell him ‘I told you so’ but you decided to refrain until he was fully sobered up.

His eyes were squinted, probably sensitive to the light since he had been put to sleep for a while.

He looked around for a bit, adjusting to finally being awake. His eyes darted around vigorously once he couldn’t find you.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he mumbled, disoriented at his surroundings.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing. You were literally beside him, but his drugged state impaired his common sense.

“I’m right here, love.”

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

You tried speaking gently since the doctors said to be patient and quiet with him in case he had vertigo or a headache.

“Why do I sound like that?” he asked almost childishly.

“You have gauze in your mouth. They took out your wisdom teeth, remember?”

You brushed his hair out of his eyes. Tucking some other strands behind his ear, you noticed the bewildered look in his eyes.

“They have my teeth?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so clueless it was adorable. “Yes, but they were bad teeth. The doctors made you all better.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding. He looked around once more, a confused look on his face.

“Can we go home? This place is creepy,” he said, his puffed out cheeks still impeding his speech. It took all his strength to be able to speak even somewhat coherently.

As soon as you got home, Matt was all over you.

He was leaning his head on your shoulder and gripping onto your arm, following you around wherever you went.

You didn’t mind. You actually found it cute - but you were worried for him. The doctors said he shouldn’t be walking around too much since he probably didn’t have a lot of balance.

“Hey how about we go lie down for a bit?” you asked him.

His eyes widened. Matt grabbed onto your arm with both hands now, looking up at you.

“Yeah! Will you lie with me?”

You smiled before nodding and helping him to his bedroom. You tucked him into bed before getting some water and painkillers for when he wakes up, but not without Matt whining for you to come back and cuddle with him.

You could hear a “where are youu?” from the room over as you scrambled to get as many supplies as possible.

His eyes were droopy when you came back into the room, head lolling to the side as he tried to fight off sleep. You set everything down next to him, including some clean gauze for him later. Changing them would be a pain in the ass but it doesn’t compare to how he’s about to feel in the next hour or so.

“Am I gonna hurt when I wake up?” he whined again as he made a grabby motion for you to come next to him.

Climbing into bed, you gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only for a little while, but I’ll be here to help.”

His lips broke out into a smile, his cheeks making him look like a chipmunk. Closing his eyes he cuddled into you, resting his head on your lap as you sat up in the bed.

“You’re the best,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

@sunshinewwx

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Usual Suspects | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: creepy police officer (not that that differs from real life), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 3242

A/N: Ooh damn, this one was interesting to write. I tried the best I could to make this as coherent as possible. Y’all enjoy! Also, this'll be another creature-double-feature Saturday to make up for the short chapter! Love you, my darlings!

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“I don’t wanna have to keep asking this, kid. Who are you?” the man who’d been interrogating you asked. He was a member of the Baltimore police department: Peter Sheridan. He’d been a complete dick to you thus far after arresting you in the boys’ motel room with Sam. 

“I told you, Ann Wilson,” you replied. 

He chuckled humorlessly. “Listen, dollface—” he leaned across the table creepily, and you fought the urge to recoil under his predatory gaze, “—I’m done playing with you. You were found with Sam and Dean Winchester; one of which was supposed to be dead. They’ve got some pretty serious charges stacked up against them, and you, by proxy. Credit card fraud, breaking and entering, and this one… puzzled me. Grave desecration.

"But still, these are a long way from murder. Then, we get a fax from St. Louis. Where Dean’s suspected of torturing and murdering a young woman.” He got up from his chair and began pacing. “However, no one could prove anything, of course, because supposedly he died there. So now we know Karen Giles wasn't the first person he murdered. And what about Sam? He was pre-law before dropping out after the death of his girlfriend. He’s twenty three years old, no job, no home address. His mother died when he was a baby; his father's whereabouts are unknown. And then there's you.”

“Can you cut the monologuing, man? It’s really starting to get on my nerves,” you replied. You had been sitting back in your chair with your arms and legs crossed confidently the whole time he spoke despite the anxiety you had given your situation.

He slammed his hands down on the table; you didn’t even flinch. “Who the hell are you? And how are you connected to the Winchester brothers?”

You sucked in air through your teeth and relaxed back in your chair. “Seems you got nothin’ on me. You can’t really hold me if you can’t even pin down who I am.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I do have you on one thing— over a dozen possible matches when we ran your prints.”

You tsked, cutting your eyes at him challengingly. “Possible. You can’t hold me on possible.”

“But I can hold you for forty-eight hours under suspicion of accomplice to murder,” he responded. “So you might as well start talking.”

You scoffed, sitting back in your chair.

“Sweetheart—” you nearly punched him when he called you that name, “—Dean’s life is over. Sam’s probably is, too. Yours doesn’t have to be. If you tell me who you are— maybe a bit about your place in all this— maybe I can get you a deal with the DA. We can look into your history, check your record; see how well you clean up. How does that sound?”

You considered for a moment before talking, repeating the story you and the brothers had discussed before your arrests in case you got caught. You had one of these stories for every case you’d ever worked on with them. “Sam and Dean’s dad knew Tony Giles. They were old friends; in the service together and everything. So we showed up as soon as we heard about his passing.”

Obviously, none of that was true. You and the brothers had found a story about a man’s throat that had been slit in the papers and headed up to investigate. 

You continued your story. “Woulda been kinda hard for Dean to kill Tony, considering we weren't in town at the time. Anyway, that’s when we went to see Karen. She was… she wasn’t doin’ well. We just wanted to be there for her.”

Karen was Anthony Giles’s wife, and you’d gone to see her to get information. She said he’d told her there was a woman standing at the foot of their bed the night before he passed away, and she'd been bleeding from the neck.

“And that was it. End of story,” you said.

“No, it’s not,” Sheridan pressed. “We have an eyewitness who said they saw two men and a woman fitting your description breaking into Giles’s office.”

“Karen just wanted us to get some old photos, okay? Police weren’t letting her in. I know it was wrong to break in, but she gave us the key,” you lied flawlessly.

In actuality, that was where you’d found a stack of papers littered with “danashulps” written over and over again on the tray of the man’s printer. The poor guy’s throat had been slit so deep, part of his spinal cord had been severed. Your working theory was that a Dana Shulps had died with her throat slit, and now she was back to wreak havoc. However, you found no evidence of any person by that name. So, you were back to square one. 

“Dean went back to Karen’s place to check on her and bring her those pictures and stuff,” you explained.

“Hm, and why didn’t you or Sam go with him?” Sheridan responded.

“We just went back to the motel,” you shrugged. “How’d you know we were there, by the way?”

“Why would I tell you?” he snapped.

“Whoa, pump the hate brakes, Biff,” you remarked, “I was just asking a question.”

“Don’t get cute with me, dollface. Now, you were with both brothers the whole time you were in Baltimore. Why separate now? Because Dean left you. To go murder Karen.”

You tried to seem unfazed, but your jaw clenched in anger. “He didn’t kill anyone.”

He slammed his fists on the table. “I heard the 9-1-1 call! Karen was terrified. She said someone was in the house.”

“Well, whoever it was, it wasn’t Dean,” you said. You stared him down. “Let me ask you something, babe. Do you have a murder weapon? Do you have a motive?” 

He seemed to have no response.

“That’s what I thought. Come back to me when you have something interesting to say.”

He angrily stormed out of the room, and your lips twisted up into a satisfied smirk.

***

You sat alone in your room, repeating “Dana Shulps” to yourself on a loop. You suddenly got an idea. ‘Maybe it’s not a name.’ You reached across the table and pulled a pen and paper pad toward you. You wrote several combinations of anagrams as to what it could possibly be. The only plausible thing you came up with was “ASHLAND SUP.” ‘But what would the S-U-P be? Ashland… a city? A town? …A street?’

***

You listened carefully to the commotion going on beyond the wall of your room. There was no two-way mirror, and from what you could tell, no camera nearby. You listened as footsteps hurriedly crossed in front of your room heading to the left and then growing quieter. You gathered your courage and took that opportunity to make your escape. Quickly, you opened the window and climbed out onto the outside of the building. Looking down below, it was almost a four-story drop. However, you knew you could make your way to the fire escape a few window sills over if you were careful enough. 

You clung to the wall, nervously, careful not to look down or move too quickly when the wind picked up. Thankfully, you made it to the fire escape safely and headed down as fast as you could. You weren’t sure if Sam or Dean had escaped, but you decided to try the trick they taught you to find each other: searching for Jim Rockford in the guest list of the first motel that appeared in the yellowpages. Thankfully, when you did, you found a Jim Rockford. You quickly made your way over to said motel and broke into the room. Sam had his gun drawn on you when you opened it.

“(Y/N)! Don’t scare me like that!” he huffed, putting the gun down.

You grinned and ran over to him. He scooped you up in a hug.

“I’m so glad to see you,” you told him. “What are we gonna do about Dean?”

He sighed. “I don't know, honestly. He’ll figure something out. For now, let’s focus on this ghost, huh?”

“I’m guessing you figured out it was an anagram, too, right?” you asked.

“Duh,” he grinned. 

“How’d Dean give you the cue to escape?” You sat down at the table across from him. 

“Got our lawyer to give me a note. Called me Hilts on it,” he smirked back.

You laughed. “The Great Escape? Nice.”

“I gotta say, man, I’m worried,” Sam told you. 

“Why?” 

“I’m guessing they read you the charges,” he replied. 

You nodded.

The brunet sighed and ran a hand down his face. “This is bad, (Y/N/N)."

“Yeah, I know.” You stared down at the table in front of you and bit the inside of your cheek nervously. 

Sam huffed and tried to remain cheerful, changing the subject. “So, what are we thinkin’? Ashland’s a street, but what’s S-U-P?”

You shook your head. “I’m not sure. Initials, maybe?”

“Sounds like a good enough place to start to me,” Sam grinned.

The two of you began pouring through online resources to see if anyone had died ugly on Ashland Street.

“Dude, how’d you get all these files, by the way?” you asked Sam, referencing the many manila folders and photos laid neatly on the table between yours and Sam’s laptops. 

Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door. You looked through the peephole to see a frightened woman in her mid-forties, and you opened it to her. 

“Wait, (Y/N)—” Sam stood upon seeing her, and you put two and two together that she was probably a cop at Sam's end of the case. The woman shrugged and entered the room. She showed Sam her wrists which were lined with a ring of bruises. She explained to you that she had seen the same ghost Karen described seeing and that she saw “DANASHULPS” appear on the mirror in the bathroom at the same time the lesions appeared around her wrists. 

“These showed up after you saw it?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” the woman responded. “You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. So is she.” She gestured to you. “I should be arresting you.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you questioned pointedly.

“Diana Ballard, Baltimore P.D.,” she said. “And… what was your name?”

You snickered. “You’re not getting that out of me that easily. Hey, do me a favor, look through these for us.”

“Why would I do that?” She suddenly seemed to register what she was looking at. “How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes, and booking photos.”

Sam chuckled. “You have your job, we have ours. Tell me if you recognize anyone.”

She flipped through the stack and stopped on the photo of a drugged-out-looking blonde woman. She stopped on it and held it up. “This is her. I'm sure of it.”

“Claire Becker,” you nodded. “Twenty-eight; disappeared about nine months ago.”

“But I don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after me?” Diana asked.

“Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?” Sam replied.

“Yeah, Pete and I did. Before homicide,” the detective answered.

“You ever bust her?”

“Not that I remember.”

“It says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place and didn’t find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves,” you added.

“Why would we do that?” Diana asked.

“See if we can find her body,” Sam explained. “We gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”

***

Turns out, poor Claire’s body had been hidden right where the moon shone through the window of 2911 Ashland Street labeled “Ashland Sup.”

Diana noticed the necklace on the corpse and touched it cautiously.

“That mean something to you?” Sam asked.

You could see she was beginning to get angry. “I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom made over on Carson street.” She pulled out the necklace from her shirt and showed it to you and Sam. “I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me.”

“That son of a bitch,” you murmured. 

“Now it all makes perfect sense,” Sam began.

“I'm sorry?” Diana scoffed.

He nodded, explaining, “Yeah. You see, Claire is not a vengeful spirit, she's a death omen.”

“Claire's not killing anyone,” you chimed in. “She's trying to warn them. You see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is.” You turned to Diana. “Detective, how much do you know about your partner?”

She thought for a moment before breathing out, “Oh my god. About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product.”

Sam huffed. “Someone like a heroin dealer. Somebody like Claire.”

“C’mon, we gotta find him before he kills somebody else,” you said.

*** Claire drove you and Sam on the route to the police station to confront Sheridan. She snapped her phone shut and huffed in annoyance.

“What?” you asked.

“Pete just left the precinct. With Dean,” she replied.

“What?!” you and Sam stiffened in your seats.

“He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling but he won't answer the radio,” she said.

“Radio? He took a county vehicle?” Sam questioned. 

She nodded. 

“Well, then they should have a lo-jack, you've just gotta get it turned on,” he noted. 

Somehow, Sam managed to track down the vehicle Sheridan had taken. You arrived just in time to see him aiming a gun at Dean who was kneeling on the ground behind the van.

“Wait! Wait,” Dean pleaded. “Let's, let's talk about this. I mean, you don't want to do something that you're gonna regret later.” His voice became louder as you got closer.

You drew Diana’s gun from her holster and aimed it at Sheridan. “Drop the gun!”

Sheridan turned his gun on you. “You!”

You cocked the gun. “Me,” you smirked.

Sheridan suddenly seemed to notice his partner. “Diana? How'd you find me?”

“I know about Claire,” she said evenly.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Put the fucking gun down!” you ordered.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Sheridan scowled. “You're fast. I'm pretty sure I'm faster.”

“Why are you doing this?” Diana interrogated.

“I didn't do anything, Diana,” he said. “It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice.”

“And Tony? Karen?” Diana pressed.

“Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess; I had to clean it up. I just panicked.” Sheridan’s sorry attempt at emotionally relaying his story was enough to induce an eye roll from you.

“How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?” Diana asked dejectedly. 

“There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag,” Sheridan chuckled coldly.

“Hey!” you barked. 

“No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you,” he told her, faltering slightly as he looked at his partner. Dean rolled out of the way, and you took the opportunity to fire and hit Sheridan in the stomach. 

Diana didn’t even flinch at you shooting Sheridan. “Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass?”

You kept the gun trained on Sheridan as you rushed to Dean’s side, crouching in front of his slumped-over form protectively. You tried to get a lock on Sheridan, but he and Diana were fighting too erratically for you to be able to get a clear shot. At some point, Sheridan lost his gun, and Sam went to go for it.

Pete grabbed it before Sam could, shouting, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it.” He rose from the ground and kept the gun trained on Sam as he backed away.

You stared past Sheridan to see Claire having appeared behind him, grinning ear to ear. You tossed Diana her gun as Sheridan turned around, and she shot her former partner in the back. He fell to the ground, much more permanently this time.

You turned your focus to Dean. You got the keys to his handcuffs from Diana and helped him out of them.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” you asked, putting your hands on either side of his face and looking him over.

He grabbed your wrist gently. “Relax, sweetheart, I’m fine.”

You nodded before throwing yourself into his arms. He hesitated in what you assumed was surprise but hugged you back tightly. You let go of him as the morning sun began to hit your eyes. You looked over to Diana who was crouched over the body of her ex-partner.

“You doin' alright?” Sam asked her.

She shook her head. “Not really.” She swallowed, her breath coming out unevenly despite the fact that she tried to hold her composure. “The death omen, Claire— what happens to her now?”

The brunet shrugged. “Should be over. She should be at rest.”

Dean brushed his hands off on his jeans as he stood next to his brother. “So, uh. What now, officer?”

“Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say that there's a good chance that we could get your cases dismissed,” she replied.

“You’d take care of that for us?” Sam questioned.

“I hope so,” Diana said. “But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you. Unless—” your and the boys’ heads perked up at her slight change in tone, “I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could just tell them that the suspects escaped.”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, are you sure?”

Dean pointedly looked at his brother. “Yeah, she's sure, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “No, it's just, I mean, you could lose your job over something like that.”

“Look, I just want you guys out there doing what you do best. Trust me, I'll sleep better at night.” She turned to go. “Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for all of you right now. Get out of here. I gotta radio this in.”

“Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to know where my car is, by chance?” Dean asked her.

“It's at the impound yard down on Robertson.” She noticed Dean’s calculating look. “Don't... even think about it.”

“It's okay, it's alright, don't worry,” Sam chuckled. “We'll, uh, we'll just improvise. I mean, we're pretty good at that.”

Diana nodded. “Yeah. I've noticed.”

You and the brothers began to walk down the road. 

“Nice lady,” Sam commented.

“Yeah, for a cop. Did she look familiar to you?” Dean turned to you.

“Yeah, actually. I don’t know where from, though,” you answered.

“Yeah, me neither. Anyway, you guys hungry?”

You nodded, but Sam shook his head.

“For some reason, I could really go for some pea soup,” Dean said.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[gooppoo]

asked for filth? alright

how about jake fucking the reader in ways the na’vi dont usually do? like eating her pussy making her sit on his face, fingering her, all the ways that you think they wouldn’t do and reader is just overwhelmed and so fucked out while hes laughing at her lovingly

no this is a really interesting concept bc how does james cameron b havin these mfs get down and dirty?

Let me show you.

Requests Closed!!

mdni.

warnings: oral (reader receiving), fingering, face sitting, jake is actually being a softy (surprise surprise)

p.s. challenging myself to condense my writing bc I tend to overwrite tbh

"Yes, sit, right here." Jake giggled at your bashful nature.

You swallowed nervously, "I-I don't know Jake..."

He swished his hand nonchalantly, "Babe, I promise, you're gonna love it. When I was one of the sky people we did this all the time." Your ears flattened when he mentioned the sky people, "Listen, just try it, if you don't like it, we'll stop." He cocked a brow.

Your tongue ran over your teeth thoughtfully. Hesitantly, you shuffled toward his expression, praying that he was true to his word (his devilish smile was less than convincing).

Either side of his head, your thighs rested, one hand stuck out in front of you for stability. Jake chirped from beneath you to see if you were ready, and you sighed, unsure.

A wet, warm sensation spread across your folds and toward your clit. Your body involuntarily stiffened and jolted your hips away from his mouth.

"Woah woah hey, just my tongue. Don't worry baby." He studied your anxious stare, chewing on your bottom lip, "Only gonna use my tongue and my fingers. Promise." His wink was not as comforting as he thought, but still cute.

In your chest, your heart hammered making the rest of your body hot. It all seemed so new all at once, and it was overwhelming.

But...from the little bit you had, it felt pretty damn good.

Still, you proceeded with caution, and returned to your original position. You waited for his tongue to explore again, instead he opted to peck along your thighs. A part of you wanted to protest and whine for him to focus on your clit, but you let him show his expertise.

When his tongue made a reappearance, it was trailing toward your much wetter core. Again, the temptation crept up to force his tongue where you wanted it, but you were patient. And soon enough that patience paid off because before you could form another coherent thought, Jake was showing you that it was possibly for you to form incoherent thoughts.

It was like he was kissing you, making out with you messily, only it felt one hundred times better. All you could really do was gasp and mewl, feel Jake pull you harder down onto his character to dive deeper into you. At times, you'd both hum when you'd hips would buck out of pure pleasure.

But as soon as you adjusted to this new phenomena, another was introduced, this time you didn't pull away. There was a weak prodding at your slippery entrance - perhaps his fingers he had mentioned - sometimes penetrating through the tiniest bit just to slide back out.

It was different, and would take some adjusting, but as long as Jake kept his attention on your clit there wouldn't be any protest or insecurity. And he knew this too, he wouldn't send your body into shock and shove two fingers into you just to quicken the process. So he took his time building up to massaging your g-spot and keeping a blissful pace on your clit with his magical tongue.

Eventually, he was knuckle deep in you, stimulating your most sensitive spots and watching you gradually unfold on top of him. Feeling your thighs relax almost too much, cunt pulsing around his working digits, it was just as he had remembered it.

However, he couldn't sustain this rhythm forever, it would only get you so far, and he wanted you cumming on his face! He tried his best to be as unsuspecting while lapping at your clit and applying more vigor to your insides. And while this did send you further into your clouded mind of lust, it also quickly became too much.

"Jake - jake," you tried to warn him that you were on the cusp of overstimulation.

"Keep saying my name baby," he laughed against you. The faint tremble in your thigh and the tightening of your naval told him everything he needed to know, "I know it's a lot, it's okay. You're doin' fuckin' great." Most of his words were muffled, the vibration of his voice sending chills up your spine.

Sooner than he has expected, your thighs were stiffening, and your walls were tightening. He continued his pace with a sprinkle of passion, knowing what was waiting for him around the corner.

"Jake - oh, OH!"

There it was. That honeydew sweetness dripping down his fingers and coating his tongue. Making your sturdy legs shake and clit become too sensitive to even kitten lick. Jake was pussy whipped, no question about it.

When enough was enough, his half-damp face peaked from underneath you, an overly cocky smile plastered on his features.

"Whatcha think?" You nodded, still gasping for air, "I knew you'd like it."

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

"time will tell" ... but what exactly?

i thought about making this reading because we are living at times when we all know that patience is a virtue, we all know that we should work on said virtue, and so on, yet, things move are always seemingly moving in the fastest chaotic way possible. for some of us, embracing uncertainty and the absurd ways of the universe is hard. so hopefully there's something in here that helps you to have a clearer vision on what is meant to come to you with time and experience.

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune pngs by: @florietas

pile number one pile number two

pile number three pile number four

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ tarot menu

✶ ko-fi page (support and tarot services) ✶

before starting with this reading i just want to say that my heart goes to anyone on the united states that feels disappointed and is going through emotionally stressful situations due to the results of the elections. at times like this is important to find empowerment and safety by taking care of our peers and participating our communities, political organization is just as important as caring for one another. having a right wing president who borders fascism is not a great experience, i have my own alt right president here in south america, but surviving these moments is easier when you find strength alongside the people who share your ideals.

we don't owe tolerance to those who are intolerant, our time is always better spent when we are building the future we want or doing our best to face the adversities of the present. please, do not allow others to take away your humanity and your hopes.

・₊✧⋆ pile number one ⭒˚｡⋆

If someone ever told you that your expectations are unrealistic, they are not wrong, but not entirely right either. I think you're someone who unconsciously tries to be aware of every possible outcome and every single detail, it's quite a hyper vigilant way of approaching things and also a quite anxiety inducing one. I wouldn't say your expectations are unrealistic, but I would definitely say they are realistic in the context of the millions of head scenarios you have going on. Some emotions are being limited by logic and some logics are being limited by emotion. There are plenty of experiences that are coming your way in order to give you the opportunity to be more present in the moment instead of experiencing things mostly in your head. You need time to further develop your judgment, as of now it is something that is in an adolescent state, not because of immature or juvenile thinking, but because you are going through a, hopefully, slightly painful phase of your mental growth. Think of it as existential growing pains. You might have too much information, too much to think about and too much to feel about, it's a very difficult moment for you to maintain a self perceived stable or coherent point of view at all times. Take this time to comprehend what's making you feel paralyzed and unable to move forward mentally, and then you can begin doing something about this conjunction of mental and emotional stress.

・₊✧⋆ pile number two ⭒˚｡⋆

What I get from this combination of cards is that you are becoming more aware of the things that are threatening your higher self. From the Queen and the Page I can see that you are usually almost confident enough in what you bring to the table in terms of material achievements that are easily recognizable, although not always perceived or valued enough by yourself or others. I don't think I want to say there's someone or yourself gaslighting you into belittling yourself, but I do want to mention that it's likely that there's a sketchy energy near you or at least the cards are giving a heads up about negative reactions to you doing your thing and, to say simply, slaying it. What it is safe to say tho is that with time you will learn who is worthy of your generosity and your companion. It's key that you understand that any kind of success you achieve is not only valuable because of what you got from it, the value comes from what you did to get said achievements. With this in mind, don't hesitate to avoid others who drain your energy and misuse your time. Your presence by itself it's already enough for others to benefit at your cost. This is not something meant to give you a reason to be overly distrustful, this is to give you reasons to set boundaries, specially for yourself, in order to make sure whoever or whatever brings you down, it's out of your way. If people see the respect you have for yourself, it's more likely they are not even trying to waste your time.

・₊✧⋆ pile number three ⭒˚｡⋆

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Being emotionally attached to the person you were in the past is obstructing your path towards further personal and existential growth. I definitely understand that sometimes the only thing that gives us a sense of stability is our own identity, and our power to define ourselves in our own terms. I don’t think you are afraid to grow or to evolve as a person, but I can see that right now you are resisting change by ignoring your intuitive need to expand your limits and find out about all the things, the positive and negative,that you choose to ignore because of old fears and anxieties. It’s very likely you know exactly what to do or what to keep and what to let go off,  you certainly are aware of where to go and how to get there. What's conflicting with your ambitions right now is that you have exhausted yourself by never taking the time to appreciate how far you already are from plenty of situations that have restricted your authentic self. I honestly understand what it's like to make a lot of progress after moving away from tough situations only to realize there is more work to do in order to restore or find an integral state of peace of mind and contempt. In your case, you’re lucky because sooner or later your emotions will lead you to how you can be truthful to yourself and experience life without any of the weight from limiting perceptions that other people have imposed on you. Many things have limited time in our lives, don’t miss out on them.

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・₊✧⋆ pile number four ⭒˚｡⋆

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Don't force yourself to be the first to do anything or the best at anything if you're comparing yourself to others. It is not fair to set your expectations about yourself by looking at what is supposably perfect or highly desirable, yet not a true reflection of what you as an individual can accomplish in a way that's genuine to your personal journeys. It's necessary that you embrace your experiences, putting yourself and your own ideals as the guide for what it means to advance and grow. Time will show you how to build a stronger confidence in your core beliefs and how to act upon them with the efficiency and courage you might be needing right now. This will develop as you become more comfortable with allowing yourself to fail, and to learn from said failures by setting structures to support the process of becoming more connected to a higher sense of self worth. You are going through a process in which key communicational aspects are at play;  many of your personal achievements will depend on your ability to share your ideas with others before taking any kind of action, as many things you’ll do will have long lasting effects. This is why I would recommend making sure you can really align your actions, your communication and your goals directly to yourself and the roots of your ideals. Don’t hurry up, it takes time to evolve and you will certainly do so by comprehending how equally confused, disoriented and impulsive we all are, and how that’s nothing anyone can ignore for too long.

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if you enjoyed this post, maybe you should check out the rest of my account <3 and keep an eye open for ask games and a tarot reading giveaway (but lets not hurry too much about it please im still figuring out the logistics of a tumblr giveaway jajaja)

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page ✶

⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[ymiko0]

Hello~ may I request HSR Blade smut?? Like- a drabble or one shit (you can do the one you’re most comfortable with) where he’s possessed by the mara and things get a little wild- I’ll leave the rest up to you honey.

Tw: manhandling, rough sex, orgasm control, doggy->prone bone, pwp, p in v, biting, implied dacryphillia, degradation, slight choking, slight dumbification, slight breath play, no proofreading we die like himeko. ( Lmk if I missed any )

Blade, your loving partner, your stoic lover, has lost himself by the mara. His eyes glowing red, scarlet even, the expression on his face only worn when the mara takes over.

His sharp fangs digging onto your skin from behind, his toned chest pressed against your arching back, your face pressed against your tear-stained pillow while he pins your wrists above your head.

The bandaged man, who's also overtaken by the lust engulfing his brain maintains his frantic pace. Thrusting in and out of you, the tip of his shaft repeatedly pressing against that spongey spot inside you, your knees growing weak from the sensation as his thighs slaps the back of yours.

Your wanton moans and whimpers adds to his pleasure. His mouth detaching from you shoulder as he let's go one of your wrists, placing his free hand on the back of your head and further pushing your face down onto the soft pillow.

" mhh...~ fuck yeah slut— you're so tight.....'ya liking this? " he whispers against your right ear, his tone playful and exudes sex , his hot breath hitting your pinna, making your walls uncontrollably spasm around his shaft. He chuckles, seeing that his words has this effect on you.

" you're fucking dirty. "

He picks up his pace, gripping your hair tightly as he pounded you from behind, his pelvis slamming back onto your plump ass, sticky from both of your essences.

Wet slaps of skin fills the room as you felt your orgasm build, the familiar feeling creeping up once more.

" ..mm-mff—! " you tried to speak, warning him of your awaiting ecstasy. But your head that's being pressed against the soft cushion that is your pillow didnt let you.

He notices this and grips your hair harder, lifting your head and pressing your back against his, your back arching from the position as his other free hand now grabbing your neck tightly while his pace not faltering.

" go on whore, oh— fuck-, speak. " he tells you.

" I—,ah-! G'na cum p-pleas—e! " you managed to whine out, your brain too foggy to form any coherent sentences.

Hes making this as hard as possible for you.

He delays his answer, furthering your torture as you know, you wont reach your long desired climax if he didnt say so. His pace remains unfaltered, holding your breath trying to prevent your orgasm from arriving, your whole body tensing.

" alright baby, you can cum now. "

Relief washes over you and your knees give up as you finally let go, your climax arriving more pleasurably because of your heightened sensitivity. You mouth left hanging as you spray all over his lower abdomen and thighs, your mouth letting out a long moan, almost a scream.

You pant heavily as your whole body felt numb, cunt throbbing as he places a kiss on your nape.

" 'atta girl. "

Notes: oh my gosh I had to write this twice bec I didnt save it once...I lost motivation for days. But yeah sorry for slow updates I'm I'm trying my best with the time I have, anyway I hope u enjoyed!!♡♡

[starhvney]

What are the ethnicities you hc for the aphmau characters?

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐒

𝐀/𝐍: i love this question ty so much for asking me!! it’s so fun to just freeball it since the characters are literal pixels haha. on top of the ethnicities, i also paired my updated face claims i have for them.

(in advance, i’d like to apologize if i give an ethnicity to a character and the face claim i gave doesn’t really match it? i personally have a hard time associating features with ethnicities, and i pulled the pictures from pinterest so it was hard to confirm all of the face model's origins. i tried my best to do the research.)

anyways, i also included some diaries characters in here as well! i tried to group them all in a way that was coherent so i hope it all makes sense!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐊 & 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐍: i really can’t see them as being anything other than native american. i just think it’s a perfect match for them

𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 & 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀: native american, obviously like their parents. 

side note: i did some research and found out that some native american people have short hair and cut it, while others keep it long for tradition and only cut it for grieving purposes. so i think it makes sense to hc them as this—though long hair on all of them would be awesome, too. anyways, please educate me if i’m wrong on this!

𝐙𝐀𝐂𝐊: hispanic, though i haven’t decided on specifics

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: hispanic, more specifically latina/mexican

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔: just like jess, i’ve always viewed her self insert as latina, too.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘: i had trouble deciding for both him and travis, but i think i landed on him being french

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒: we don’t see his mom in mys, but we see her in mcd and she literally just looks like him. so i’ll say travis is also mostly french and possible mixed with another ethnicity to account for his nice tan

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄: that is a white man. he’s from o’khasis, so i feel like he’s straight up an englishman.

𝐙𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: i see her as a small amount of mediterranean, specifically greek, mixed with scandinavian. 

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇: garroth takes more after garte, though i think he’d have the bits of green in his eyes and tall nose from his mother. 

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄: zane looks more like his mother, with his dark eyes and pale skin, though he has his fathers eyes and the curse of burning in the sun like a vampire from the english side.

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃: he looks the most like zianna, and the unknown biological father seemed to have been european as well based on his skin?

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂: scottish (af) (samesies)

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇: british

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍 & 𝐊𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐘: british and scottish. the whole family is paler than a sheet of paper

side note: i wish we saw more of katelyn’s other little brothers :(

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards maybe spaniard and croatian? pretty sure the face model i chose for him is part italian, though.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: he was difficult for me to decide on, because i feel like canonically he kind of presents as just a tan white man, but i like to think of him as a mix of northern italian and romanian!

𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀: i personally view cadenza as being a little mix of scottish or irish, with her pale skin, ginger hair, and big blue eyes, it just makes the most sense to me.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀: puerto rican mayhapsies?

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 & 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄: i’m not sure why, but i always thought of dante and gene as being mixed with being hispanic and asian ever since i was younger. in my subj3 fic, i more specifically wrote them to be half puerto rican and half korean!

𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀: russian/eastern european

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗: i have a face claim for him, but i haven’t thought of specifics on him yet. i’m leaning towards at least part hispanic, though.

𝐇𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐀: i’m not sure, but definitely european.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀: since hyria is white, i like to think lucinda is half white and mixed with a little greek and a little indian from her father!

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀: based on her name and her character design being clearly based off of japanese culture, i view her as being fully japanese!

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆: if not clear by her last name, she is so very clearly german to me. both by her last name and her coloring.

𝐓𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐘: jamacian

𝐊𝐈𝐌: ukranian

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄: mostly indian, and a small bit african

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋: i don’t know, he honestly just exists in my head. if someone could pls let me know what ethnicity the face model i chose for him looks like, that would be great!! ty!

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄: mainly dutch!

𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍: wasian, i’m so sorry but i haven’t put much thought into specifics for him 

𝐈𝐕𝐘: english

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘: half english half spaniard

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗: surinamese chinese

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈: her name is japanese, but she has that pretty tan skin and those green eyes, so i’d say she’s part japanese, part filipino, and part kazakh! i'm aware her face claim isn't accurate to this, sorry ;^;

𝐄𝐈𝐍: i had a really hard time deciding on him. i feel like he’d also be native american and some puerto rican as well

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎: belgian

𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍: peruvian

𝐊𝐀𝐈: i think he’d be wasian, ¾ japanese and ¼ irish (ginger)

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍 & 𝐊𝐈𝐊𝐈: brazilian and egyptian

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐔𝐑: genuinely i cannot see him as anything other than a nerdy british man so that is what he shall be

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐍: very obviously based on her coloring, she is also european of some sort. though, i haven’t decided specifics. it would honestly be so fun if her and kenmur were the stereotypical nerdy british couple though. so cute

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍: scottish

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀: since her village was in the water, an ethnicity from a northern european country by the water made sense to me. perhaps dutch?

𝐘𝐈𝐏: native american

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀: scottish and dutch

𝐙𝐎𝐄𝐘: tall and sharper features fit the “elven” phenotype, so i think she’d maybe be estonian?

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈: undecided

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards just making him british lol

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀: half native american half latina

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐓: undecided

𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎(𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄-𝐓𝐀𝐍): half japanese, quarter korean and quarter hispanic.

𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈: hispanic, korean, and german, though he looks more like dante than nicole.

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄: german

𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘: french

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 & 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍: german and french (obvi lol)

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐘: persian

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀: german

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄: persian and german... i guess? he got most of his looks from his mom

𝐉𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘: english/british

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐃: undecided. idek man i just put them in here cause they make me giggle lol

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘: sean

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my posts as your own.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

[0xstarzx0]

DARK RED

Rafe Cameron S3x Reader

CLOSE COMMAND

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

SYNOPSIS: Rafe found you and he’s planning on keeping it with him forever.

TW: toxic behavior, manipulation, control manipulation, threats, violence mentions, victim’s reprimand. !The reader is considered a weak-minded person, which explains her behavior towards Rafe! Mention of abortion. Insult

______________________________________________- [PT2]

6YEARS LATERS 

You watched your sons play happily in the streets of Chicago. You no longer lived as a kook, but you were happy with your children.

Music echoed through the streets as the boys were with their friends while you sunbathed peacefully.

"Mom, look what I can do!" said Elijah, making animal shadows with his hands.

You laughed and applauded, Dean coming to sit next to you.

Dean and Elijah are twin brothers.

Dean physically resembles you a lot. His eyes are just a little lighter than yours and his hair is not as wavy as yours.

Elijah strongly resembles Rafe, with the same hair, eye color, complexion, smile, EVERYTHING.

But in terms of character, they are completely different. Elijah inherited your character, while Dean has Rafe's character.

They are too young for you to say which one reminds you more of Rafe, but either way, you do your best to make sure they don’t become like him.

"When is Harper coming?" asks Dean with hint of frustration in his sad expression.

"She's coming at six-" Dean cuts you off. "How late is she staying with us?" You shrug your shoulders.

Tonight, you're working as a waitress for a high-end event in the north side of Chicago. You don't know what time you'll be home as these events can go on sometimes until three in the morning.

"I don't know Dean, but I'll make sure to come home as soon as possible," you say, gently stroking his hair.

"You always say that, but you come back super late!" The little blond puts his head against your shoulder.

It pains you to hear that because it’s true; sometimes in order to make sure you can make ends meet, you find yourself working overtime.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Dean hugs you with his little arms. "I love you, mom." You stroke his back. "I love you too, baby."

✯

The event had been going on for over an hour now, and the floors in the luxurious hotel where you were at began to fill up.

You stood up straight and tried to be as pleasant as possible. The atmosphere is enjoyable for the guests.

Each of them flaunts their wealth or talks about business. You recall the parties of this kind you used to attend with your family.

None of them were missed by you, you greet a woman as she starts talking to you.

She's quite attractive, with her medium-length black hair and her brown almond-shaped eyes. She acts as if you were the best friends in the world.

However, she doesn't do anything except talk about her life, there’s no coherence in what she’s saying, but you say nothing.

You hope to get at least a tip of $150 at this point.

She looks away from your eyes for a moment to look over your shoulder and smile. She waves her hand, probably attracting someone.

You begin to turn around to leave when you freeze. Bad memories come back one by one to the surface. Your heart beats so loudly in your ears that you can no longer hear.

You apologize and head to the bar, setting down your tray and run to the bathrooms. Rafe was there, he was right in front of you.

He still looks as charismatic and threatening as before. You walk to the sink and splash some water on your face.

And if he had recognized me? Will he make me pay? Will he be angry that I've deprived him of his children for so long? No, impossible that he’s recognized me.

You lift your head and find yourself face to face with him in the mirror. A satisfied smile on his face. You swallow hard and look at him.

His blue eyes are still as beautiful as ever, his shaved hair gives him a charm.

"It's been a long time." He says, locking the door. He advances, and you back away.

He straightens his tie and looks at himself in the mirror. "How's my child?"

You freeze in fear, the stress is at its peak. "I had an abortion." You gasp for air. He chuckles and looks at you. "You ran away just to have an abortion?"

You look at him angrily. "What do you want Rafe?" You tremble and he finally looks at you. "I know my children are somewhere in the streets of Chicago. Judging by your appearance, they must be in the South Side."

"Fuck off, Rafe!" You yell at him in anger. Rafe comes closer and looks at you with anger. "There are people who have disappeared for less than that Y/N. I suggest you lower your damn tone."

Rafe leans forward and tilts his head slightly. "I missed you." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You shudder at his touch.

"You broke my heart by leaving. How could you do this to me after everything I did for you." He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

There was a time when you would have apologized on your knees, but not anymore. "You were violentwith me."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "That happens in every relationship, it’s nothing serious." You look at him, shocked.

"How did you call them?" He asks, folding his arms across his chest. You furrow your brows. "What?..." he massages his temples. "The twins, what have you named them?" You tremble, how does he know?

"I don’t know what you mean." Rafe sighs loudly. "Do you really think I’m here by accident?" You frown, he takes out his phone and unlocks it.

He puts it on the sink, for the past five months he'd known where you live, your job, your friends, and most importantly, where his children were.

"I don’t blame you for leaving, Y/N, I’ve spent every day for the past six years thinking about you and the kids." He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"I’m going to change, I promise, just give me one more chance to show you how I can be a good father for our kids." He caresses your cheek. "For our family."

You would like to scream at him, tell him to leave, but Rafe isn’t stupid. He knows that you won’t because you feel too guilty that the twins don’t have a father.

"Alright..." You say, looking into his eyes. "One and last chance." Rafe smiles and kisses your forehead. "Promise."

Rafe hugs you tightly and gently runs his fingers through your hair.

Rafe knew you were going to say yes, he was sure of it, and anyway, if you had refused, he would have made sure you wouldn’t be allowed near the children anymore.

Having money works that way.

Rafe knows it will take some time for you to no longer be afraid of him, but he will wait because that is what soulmates do. 

They always forgive their other half.

______________________________________________

Hello everyone!

And yes, after several months without news about this fan fiction, I finally write the end!

I'm sorry if the end hasn't pleased you, I don't like it too much either but I tried to do what I wanted the most. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask them to me in private or in request, I'll answer with pleasure <3

taglist 🏷️ :

@rafemotherfuckingcameron @macchili18 @devotedlyelectronicartisan @julesandro

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[stqrgir1e]

lucky simon riley!!!!

simon is such a lucky man to have such a sweet girl like you!! this was longer but tumblr ate it so i cried and gave up

mentions of . . . p!in!v, lovie, darling (lots of petnames) used, afab reader, age gap implied, husband!simon. :p requests always open!

"such a dirty fuckin' cunt on my sweet girl, aye? all wet f'me already..." simon groaned while sliding his thick index finger over the wet spot of your lacy pink panties. his plush bottom lip was tucked under his top teeth, deep brown eyes scanning over your drenched folds like it was the most irresistible thing he had ever seen in all his time on earth. it was something he often came to realize when in moments like this, when your knees were pressed against your perky tits, lips agape as pleas for his touch escaped your mouth. he was so lucky to have such a sweet girl like you, a girl that would let him have his fantasies and play time with zero complaints. of course, simon always promised to return the favor, he was a man of his word.

you whine lewdly, hands holding onto the backs of your thighs to give your gorgeous husband simon the best possible view of your pussy. he deserved it after all, being away from you for oh so long. he needed your pussy just as much as you needed to be stuffed full of his girthy cock. the thought alone had your pussy gushing, panties clad to your sticky cunny. "p-please Si, gonna be so good for you," you make the soft promise to simon in a low whisper, mind too fogged over with pleasure to even form a coherent thought it seemed. the rough heel of his hand pressed into your mound, clit rubbing against the rough fabric so so sweetly.

"yea? y'gonna be a good fuckin' girl f'me t'night?" he questioned tauntingly, words falling past in lips in a mocking manner as he ate up the sight of you squirming pathetically. you bucked your hips into his hand further, simon only chuckling deeply in return. you gazed up at him with wide doe like eyes, the throb of your clit almost unbearable as your body pleaded for more and more form the burly british man towering above. "y-yes!" you spoke quickly, mouth working faster than your brain as one of your hands releases your thigh to grip his wrist. you tried to move his scarred hand, tried to make him rub against your cunt just a little bit, but it was no use.

"gonna need more than that lovie..." he leaned down to groan in your ear, teeth grazing against the fleshy lobe before leaning back to stare down at you once more. your petite hand trying to move his wrist made his heart swell, a sweet yet humorous sight that made his cock stir in the restraints of his jeans. he watched as your lips parted once more to release a high pitched moan, neediness reflected back at him through your eyes and he knew what you needed. he just wasn't sure if you were ready for it yet.

"g-gonna be so good for you Si, make you feel so good, let ya' cum deeeep in me baby..." you rambled on while raking your manicured nails along his forearm. your legs were spread, pussy still covered by dainty pink lace that simon eyed more intently with your words. his rough hands moved quickly, fingers slipping under the thin fabric before tearing it as if it was thin tissue paper. the action makes you arch your back, head turning to look down at simon with a look of astonishment on your face.

"be careful what ya' wish for sweet girl..." he grumbles deeply while tossing the torn fabric onto your bedroom floor. it would be added to the various ruined pairs simon liked to keep for his private times. the times when you were away with friends, or too busy with work to come worship your husbands meaty cock. he could go to his little stash of torn fabric and pairs ruined by public-play that simon never wanted to forget. he would wrap the soft fabric around his aching cock, stroke it slowly while allowing his fantasies of his wife to play in his head like a major motion picture. or if he was feeling a bit more filthy he would inhale the sweet scent of you on the fabric, coming all over his toned stomach to the thought of his face buried in your sweet heat. he didn't have to imagine though, here you were on full display for him. he was going to soak up every moment, not letting any of your sweet attention go to waste.

"oh fuckin' hell lovie, look a' that..." he spoke tauntingly while sliding his calloused middle finger through your drenched folds. he collected all your sweetness on his digit before bringing it to his lips to suck it clean of your essence. he would never get sick of the delicious taste of you dancing on his tongue, bitter sweet juice making his cock twitch and twist. "a-all f'you Si," you let out the words with a breathy sigh, hands gripped onto his broad shoulders to brace yourself for whatever simon had in mind for tonight.

what you weren't expecting? for him to wrap his massive hands around your waist, flipping you onto your stomach with ease before landing a playful slap to your round ass. "c'mom sweet stuff, ass up," he spoke with a light chuckle, like the words were such a casual thing for him to say. you whine with compliance, hips raising to put your tight ass and gushing cunny on full display for him once more. the cool air nipped at your most sensitive parts, perky nipple grazing against the sheets.

"gonna make me yours, baby?" you tease back, words as sweet and smooth as honey while you wiggled your hips. he soaked up your sweet voice, gripping your hips roughly and pressing his jean covered cock against your ass. "feel tha' darling? tha's all for you, y'sweet pussy's gonna take it s'so well," he grunted lowly in your ear, jerking his hips against your ass once more. he wanted his need for you to be recuperated, for him to feel the sheer desire that oozed out of you. your pussy said more than your mouth did though, wetness drenching the supple skin and dripping onto your puffy clit. simon toyed at the swollen nub with a shit-eating grin on his lips, getting sick pleasure out of the way your body squirmed under his massive frame.

"c'mon baby doll, you know how bad i need that cunt of yours," the words were dirty, filthy even. they rang in your ears like loud booming bass, and made your heart pound against your chest like a drum. you aimlessly reach your hand back, trying to grab at his belt loop but only slapping at his jean clad thigh pathetically. your head swirled around in a melted mess of pleasure, you were like play-doh in simons hands. he chuckled darkly at your pathetic attempt, your dainty hands clawing at his jeans like they were the worst barrier between them.

“use your words, darling…” simon growled lowly, leaning down so his lips grazed the shell of your ear. his massive hand kneaded your ass like it was just a play thing for him, rough skin melting into soft flesh as if it was such a soothing action. you push your face into the pillow, eyes screwed shut out of frustration and desire. you lower your hand, sighing in your own personal defeat before turning your face to look at simon with wide twinkling eyes. “need it so bad, Si, wanna see your p-pretty cock, baby…” you mutter pathetically, feeling your wetness drip down your thighs as a shade of pink adorns your cheeks. simon cocked an eyebrow, grabbing your face in his calloused hand while squishing your cheeks playfully in the process. “how’d i get so fuckin’ lucky with you, eh?” he huffed with a throaty laugh, leaning back to begin removing his belt at the slowest pace he could handle. you weakly giggle in return, taking a moment to catch your breath before preparing to be stuffed full of your husbands thick monstrous length.

the size never failed to astonish you, a good 8.5 inches when hard, uncut with a peachy pink tip that oozed mouth watering precum. it was like a sacred item to you- embarrassing? very. simon loved poking fun at the way you would ogle at his dick whenever it was bobbing in front of you.

simon let his belt rest discarded on the side of the bed, his hands quickly removing his jeans revealing the large tent in his navy blue briefs. you cranked your head once more, mouth agape when you saw his heavy balls sway with each movement. his briefs were gone in a flash, discarded onto the bedroom floor along with your torn panties and bra from earlier. garments of clothing only intimate enough for both of you to see in private. “so hard for me, hmph?” if there’s one thing you adored, it was dirty talk. simon always took note that no matter how fucked out and dazed his pretty little wife was- her filthy mouth would never fail to amaze him. simon grunted, wrapping his hand around the thick base before smearing precum over your cunt and ass, the sticky feeling making you squeeze your thighs together.

“fuck lovie, y’keep talkin’ so much and we’re gonna have a problem…” he spoke lowly, voice deep and gravely as his hands expertly spread your ass cheeks before he lands a thick glob of spit on your cunny. it mixed with your wetness, trailing down to your clit as simon soaked in the lewd sight. really, how did he ever get so lucky?

you felt his tip prod at your entrance, anticipation soaring through your body as your try to push back onto his cock. simon was quick to stop you though, large hands halting your movement with a iron grip on your hips. a series of whines and pants leaves your lips, incoherent pleas for touch from him. “p-please simon, i’ll shut up, i-i’ll be good!” you plea in return, trying to gain his approvel for whatever it was your body cried out for- his touch, his voice, or just overall pleasure.

you’ll never get sick of that mocking chuckle he always lets out whenever he was pleased with what you were saying. the way his thick cock twitched ever so slightly inside of your sopping cunt, it was a dead giveaway. he groans while slowly inching into your tight warm heat further and further. you squeeze around his thick cock, pushing your face into the plush pillow further to stifle the burn of tears in your eyes. the stretch and pain was pleasurable- a pain that meant something very good was to come- quite literally. “fuuuck, takin’ me so well yea? i knew ya would…” he grunted while allowing his head to fall back, basking in the warmth of your cunny embracing him.

his cock was halfway in as he stood achingly still behind you. your breath was ragged, back arched in a such a elegant manner that simon wanted to take a picture and hang it up in his office later. this sight was only for him though, something that only was saved for his eyes. “m-more… more Si,” your words were muffled by the pillow, but simon could make out every word of your melodic like voice. his palm rested on your lower back, thumb rubbing soothing circles as he pushed further into you. eventually he bottomed out, thick cock buried deep in your drenched pussy. his plush lips were parted, a groan escaping them as his other hand instinctively grabs your neck. he leans down close to your neck, licking from your collarbone up to your jaw before whispering lowly, “up darling.” the words were low and demanding sending waves of warmth to your poor cunny. of course you complied, allowing him to pull you back against his muscular chest.

he moved at a painfully slow pace at first, one hand on your waist, the other loosley resting around your neck. you whimpered and moaned, a sweet combination of sounds that made simon pick up the pace a bit. the sloppy thrusts simon inflicted on your poor pussy made your body squirm and writh, pussy squeezing his fat cock so sweetly. you cried out, the sweet intrusion sending waves of ecstasy from your tummy to the tips of your fingers and toes. simon was in awe at the way you reacted to his touch, such a sweet girl for such a brute man. "fuckin' aye lovie... howd i get so bloody lucky, hm?" you were in fo suuuuch a long night ): ) : ) :

[bonesxbows]

Surgery of a Hope (Astarion x Reader)

My Masterlist

Someone dared to try to lay a hand on you and Astarion finds out. He leaves Gale to comfort you while he goes and "takes care" of it. Or alternatively, Astarion is trying to show you he loves you in one of the only ways he knows how; by killing.

(WARNINGS) - mentions of sexual assault/assault (depending on how you look at it), but does not go into a lot of detail - crying/breakdown - trauma responses

If you have any triggers relating to assault or past assault please be careful reading this. I have not personally experienced what is written here but it is loosely based on trauma of my own and the goal was to write something to act as a comfort for myself and whoever else needs to read something like this. But please tread carefully, I didn't write this with the intent of triggering anyone.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy and I hope reading this can help someone else like writing it helped me :) Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

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You sat on the ground inside your tent, nestled in the corner of the fabric, your knees pulled up to your chest. You were slowly rocking back and forth, replaying the traumatic events of the day in your head. Your body was present, but your mind was lost in its own little world, your eyes glassed over. You didn't notice Astarion barge into your tent, a bubble of excitement coming with him.

“Darling! I've been waiting all day to have a moment with you all to myself. I-” His sentence and his body stopped dead in their tracks when his eyes finally found you, a sad little ball of limbs shoved into the corner. His voice startled you out of your daze. He walked closer towards you and reached out a hand, but you jumped in response to him approaching and shuffled yourself deeper into the corner, as far away from him as you possibly could get. He frowned. He recognized your fear, he remembered acting like you were doing now once before and that worried him.

“Astarion, wait. I…wait. Please, don't come any closer.” You spilled out your words quickly. Your eyes were glued to his outstretched hand, wide like a gnoll staring down a wall of fire, and tears started to pool underneath them.

“What’s wrong my love?” He hated when you cried. He was getting better at learning how to comfort you but he still got nervous about making it worse. His frown deepened but he respected your request and instead knelt down where he was, keeping his distance from you.

“I…um…” you stumbled over your words, your mouth becoming dry and thick, like someone had shoved cotton down your throat. You tried to blink away the tears but they were now two hot waterfalls running down your face.

“It’s alright, you can tell me. What happened?” You looked like a scared animal and it reminded him too much of how he used to feel. He was concerned, but he was also angry. He had a feeling he already knew what had happened to you and the thought of him being right made him burn with rage inside. You took a shaky breath and did your best to speak coherently.

“Someone…um, someone tried to touch me earlier when we were in town. I…I tried to stop them, tried to fight them off. Some things were said and…and…” Your story ended there as the sobs racked your body aggressively. You buried your head in your arms, wrapping your hands around your shoulder to try to comfort yourself as you rocked back and forth, crying and screaming and sobbing loudly. Astarion swore he could feel his undead heart shatter. He could do nothing but sit there and watch as you poured out your emotions. He knew from experience that if he tried to comfort you it would only make the situation worse, but he felt helpless just sitting there and doing nothing. So he reached over and yanked your blanket off of your cot, folding it up haphazardly and placing it between the two of you, nudging your foot with the fabric, doing his best not to touch you.

You poked your head up slightly, eyeing him. You saw the blanket, your blanket, and how Astarion sat back on his heels, a comforting smile on his face. You unfurled a hand from your cocoon of limbs and reached forward slowly, grabbing the blanket tentatively, as if even the soft material would snap back at you as well. But it didn't, so you pulled it into your lap on top of your knees and buried your head into the comfort of it, sniffing the familiar scent of Astarion’s cologne that had rubbed off on it from his constant nights spent in your tent with you. You used a corner of it to wipe away your tears and tried to focus on steadying your breathing. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Astarion and he nodded his head.

“Do you think you can manage to remember who it was, my love? Can you tell me what they looked like?” he asked you softly. He wanted to reach out and grab your hand in his, but he stayed still for now. He would not touch you until you were ready and asked him to, no matter how much he wanted to. You began to shake your head furiously.

“No. Astarion, no. It was nothing, really. You don't need to do anything. It was my fault anywa-” He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Do not even finish that statement darling. None of this is your fault. None of it. Do you understand? Now, what did they look like?” his face was like stone, serious and deadly. It didn't scare you, not anymore at least, but you knew trying to argue with him at this point was futile. You were so confused and upset you did not know what the right thing to do was so you trusted Astarion and told him everything you could remember. You watched as he took off his jacket and moved closer to you. But he stopped just before he got too close.

“Is it alright if I touch you my sweet?” He asked before he did anything and you nodded, although slowly. He leaned forward to drape his jacket over your shoulders and pull it up over your neck. Your fingers fumbled at first but you grabbed it and pulled it as close to your skin as you could, relishing in the warmth and comfort radiating off of the velvet fabric.

“Stay here, alright? I’ll tell Gale to accompany you here inside of your tent so you don't have to be alone. I promise I’ll be back before morning.” He leaned forward again to kiss you gently on your forehead and you didn't jerk away this time. He smiled warmly at you but his ruby eyes shone with anger and malice. He began to stand up and head for the entry flap of your tent.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You jumped from surprise and began to reach for him but stopped abruptly when his jacket began to fall off of your shoulders and instead quickly grabbed it again and pulled it back up around you. You were afraid to be alone, even with Gale. You only felt safe around Astarion. Your sense of security was so shattered you were hesitant to trust anyone except him. He turned back around before he left.

“Promise me you'll stay here with Gale.” no, you wanted to go with him, wherever he was going. You wanted his warmth and to be in his arms with him by your side protecting you, no one else.

“But I-” he cut you off again. He was not looking for any arguments tonight.

“Promise me, my love.” there was no arguing with the look in his eyes and there was no changing his mind about whatever he had set his mind on doing. “I promise.” you choked out, trying not to cry again at the thought of him leaving you right now.

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can alright? Then I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.” You watched him leave, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to flow. You gripped his jacket even tighter and breathed in the smell of his cologne again, it was an even stronger scent on his jacket than on your blanket. A few moments after Astarion left Gale walked in, smiling sympathetically. He somehow juggled a bowl, two mugs, and a stack of books in his hands without dropping anything.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. You didn't give an answer and watched as he sat where Astarion once was just a minute ago and placed all of the things in his hands in front of him, between the two of you.

“We don't have to talk if you'd rather not. But I thought you might like a distraction while Astarion is away. My time is yours.” You looked at him and he looked sincere, but you were still a little wary. But this was Gale, someone who had stuck by your side from the very beginning and had been nothing but respectful and helpful ever since. You gazed over what he had brought with him, there was what appeared to be stew in the bowl and the two mugs were filled with tea and still steaming. The books were ones you recognized, titles you had once borrowed from him and had told him you had enjoyed immensely. Books that you knew, that were familiar, and there was comfort in familiarity. He knew this. Gale was your best friend, he was the second person to know just about everything about you. You were grateful that his memory was impeccable and that he had remembered all of your favorite things, especially at a time like now.

“What kind of soup is that?” you asked. The tears had subsided, for now. He was glad you were up to talking, it was going to be a long night for him if he had to sit here in silence the whole time.

“Vegetable and sausage. And that’s peppermint tea, with sugar, just how you like it. I've also brought your favorite books, but I can fetch something else if reading isn't up to your liking currently.” He stole a pillow from the pile off of your bed and propped himself up against the side of your tent, still an agreeable distance away from you. Astarion must have given him the details of your jumpiness and sensitivity to touch right now. You couldn't help but smile just a little.

“The books are alright for now, Gale. Thank you.” You reached forward for one of the mugs and chose one of the books from the stack as you did so.

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, alright? Im not going anywhere until Astarion gets back.” you nodded and took a sip from the mug, the tea warming your scratchy throat on the way down. You opened the book to the first page and Gale did the same with his own book.

Eventually the warm tea, familiar story, and comfort of Astarion’s scent lulled you into a sleep. Your body was exhausted from the day’s events and the extensive crying you had done earlier. Gale had stayed with you the entire night, within arms reach just in case you needed him, even when the rough ground began to irritate his old human body. He had even lit the candles in your tent after the sun had set just so you would not be in complete darkness if you woke up in the middle of the night.

-

You were never a heavy sleeper, but now you were even more anxious in your sleep after what had happened. A dull thud had woken you up and you heard the sound of water splashing. Your eyes fluttered open quickly but your heart calmed down when you saw the back of a familiar white shirt and white curls in the candlelight. Astarion had returned at some point, before morning just like he had promised, but his back was turned to you and he was knelt in front of your washing bucket.

“Astarion? Is that you?” you asked groggily. Your voice was thick with sleep but you were wide awake, grateful that he was back already.

“Go back to sleep darling, it’s alright.” he spoke sweetly to you like always, but he stayed with his back to you, working something onto the wash board inside the tub.

“Where have you been?” you sat up, blinking away the remaining sleep in your eyes and trying to focus on what he was doing. A part of you already had a guess of where he had been for the last few hours but you asked anyway, not wanting to believe what you knew was already true.

“No where you need to worry your pretty little head about, everything’s alright.” he told you, but you were too curious now to go back to sleep. Astarion hated chores, yet here he was scrubbing laundry in the middle of the night. You stood up quietly and padded over to him, still holding onto his jacket around your shoulders. You leaned over his shoulder and observed. He was holding on to a different white shirt than the one on his back currently, scrubbing furiously as the soapy water turned pink. Now that you were closer you also noticed the way the candlelight shined against black spots in his hair, a stark difference against his bleach white curls. You frowned slightly, accepting your previous conclusion as the truth now.

“Is that blood?” you asked. You already knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him.

“No.” he tried to deny the obvious, though he already knew you wouldn't believe the white lie.

“Astarion.” you said sternly, gently warning him to tell you the truth this time.

“Alright maybe it is. But the bastard deserved it.” he stopped scrubbing and so you sat down on the ground behind him. He turned to look at you, abandoning the shirt in the dirty water.

“What did you do?” your voice was calm. You didn't mind he had taken matters into his own hands, in fact you were secretly grateful.

“I taught him a much needed lesson my love. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again.” his lips turned up into his signature killer smile. He was proud of himself for the kill, as per usual. You wanted to thank him, say something, anything, to convey how relieved you felt, but the words got caught in your throat. His smile faltered a little when he noticed the pool of tears forming in your eyes, but he knew you were okay from the small smile that was stuck on your face.

He dunked his hands back into the water to wash the rest of the blood off and then dried them on his pants before outstretching a hand to you, silently asking for yours. You obliged, placing your hand in his. He brought it up to his face and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckle. You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up from his gesture, the smile on your face growing despite the tears that started to flood your face. You were safe. Even after all that had happened, you were safe with Astarion.