#Marcel Hoste | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

Note

Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

634 notes · View notes

klausysworld · 2 years ago

Note

This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.

My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.

Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.

Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.

Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!

(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)

Her protector

Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.

Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.

If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.

At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.

Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm

"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.

Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.

However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"

And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.

Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.

Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.

Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.

"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.

She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.

After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.

Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.

Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.

She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.

She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.

She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.

The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.

"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck

"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes

"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes

"I am" she stated and he hummed

"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously

"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment

"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered

"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.

But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.

"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head

"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.

"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.

She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.

But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.

Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.

Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.

It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.

He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.

Either way there was no excuse.

All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.

So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.

However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.

She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.

A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.

He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.

"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.

He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.

It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.

"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.

"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.

"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded

"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.

They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet

"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"

"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.

He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.

"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.

After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.

Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.

He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.

What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.

Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.

Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.

“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.

“I hate him” she uttered.

“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.

Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.

But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.

Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.

That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.

She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.

Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.

But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.

The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.

But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.

Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.

He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.

His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently

“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.

“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”

She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“

“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.

“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled

“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff

“You do?”

“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.

839 notes · View notes

so-long-soldier-writes · 2 years ago

Text

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning.

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh.

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off.

Your alarm sounds not a second later.

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all.

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be.

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table.

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence.

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart.

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war.

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed.

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?”

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again.

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically.

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family.

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them.

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days.

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest.

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time.

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress.

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two.

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.”

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib.

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events.

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will.

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll.

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point.

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout.

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours.

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks.

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in.

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly.

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time.

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”

#poly!mikaelsons x reader #poly!mikaelsons #elijah mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #tw mental health #i feel so bad for taking so long on this

685 notes · View notes

3thirtyonethirtyone1 · 8 months ago

Text

To-go order

Fluff

Johnathan Bailey x male!reader

SUMMARY: Doing the Wicked press tour, Jeff Goldblum can't stop talking about Jonathan's appetizing lunches on set and Jonathan can't stop talking about the man who had been making them.

——————————————————————————

❗ English is NOT my first language so be kind.

❗Every interaction is (sadly) purely fictional.

——————————————————————————

Being in a project such as Wicked, Jonathan was aware of the off screen implications, such as interviews and press tours. However, having Jeff Goldblum as partner in this made the experience far more enjoyable, most of the time at least.

"The public is asking what you have eaten while you were filming and more so if you like it," the interviewer said.

"Yeah, it was good-", Jonathan got to answer

"Oh, please! You came everyday with your lunchbox, like a kid with allergies at summer camp", Jeff interrupted him.

"Really?", the interviewer asked.

"It's not like I had brought something fancy or anything...", Johnathan said.

"Can you name anything in that lunch without looking up how to pronounce it?", Jeff questioned.

"No, but that's not important.", Johnathan answered.

"I think what Jonathan is trying to say is that the chef was more memorable than the food," the interviewer chimed in.

"Ooh, is little Jonny in love-?", Jeff teased the british.

"No no no..." , Jonathan quickly answered.

"So he's a gentleman of the night, you little minx!" , Goldblum poked his arm jokingly.

"No he's not... It's complicated." , Jonathan said, defeatedly looking at his shoes.

"So this mystery man... Is he your boyfriend-", the interviewer asked.

"—And hopefully my future husband", Jonathan rushed to answer.

"I suppose it's serious," , Jeff added.

"Very serious. We've been together for 3 years, however we kept it very and I mean very private because he was getting his first Michelin star and a relationship with someone famous would affect it."

"And why didn't you make it public after that?", the interviewer asked.

"We actually forgot about it honestly," Jonathan chuckled. "I think it's because of him working so much and myself not having a break longer than 2 weeks. Heck, the only time I'd seen him was when he fell asleep.

"Can you tell us and everyone who's watching how you met?" , the interviewer wanted to know.

"So we met at a reunion of the ballet I was into. The dancer who hosted the gathering introduced him as her brother. Believe me when I say that when I looked at him, I felt like the world had stopped and when I found out he was gay I knew what I had to do."

"Did he fall for the 'Bailey Charm'?", Jeff asked.

"At first he didn't. Marcel or Marce -that's how I call him- had known about my on camera life and hadn't wanted to put his whole life under a microscope, but I found a way to show him I'm not just an actor." , Jonathan answered.

"How lovely!" , the interviewer exclaimed. "Has anyone on Wicked met him?

"Mistakenly, yes. In the first days on set he came to Leighton to see me since he had a few weeks off and the first person who met him was Cynthia. He was a bit behind me and she asked me about the rehearsals and when he caught up on me he asked me "Jonny, is my camera in your backpack?" and from then on we had no other choice but to come clean. Luckily, Cynthia respected our privacy and we can't thank her enough for that."

"Wonderful!", the interviewer said. "If you'd like, can you look into that camera and say something to your boyfriend?"

"Glad to do that. Marce I love you very much, way more than this message could express. Also I hope you bought that fancy fish you've told me about. I can't wait to taste it. I love you."

——————————————————————————

The interview continued to be on screen, but Jonathan's attention was focused on his boyfriend, who meticulously prepared their lunch.

"When I tell you, love that no dish can compare with what you'll have for lunch today." , Marce said at the stove.

"Seeing you so worked up so much makes me hungry for something else than lunch." , Jonathan said.

"Can't have dessert before supper, sweetheart.", Marce added.

"When it comes to you darling, I have rather a large sweet tooth.", Jonathan said, smirking.

——————————————————————————

The End

#jonathan bailey #jonathan bailey x reader #jonathan bailey fanfic #jonathan bailey x male reader

68 notes · View notes

ingravinoveritas · 4 months ago

Note

Same David event anon: On a more positive note there was some Michael talk. They were talking about how Michael was top of his class at RADA and David joked that his career had done okay he supposed. 😝 And then the interviewer said “oh but he doesn’t do good like you….oh wait he did pay off the debt of 900 people” and David rolled his eyes and said that he supposed he was a very good person. Much more genuine than the performative Georgia crap.

Hello, Anon. Tumblr for some reason decided to glitch out, so trying this again, albeit with the messages out of order.

Well, it's certainly nice to hear from someone who was at the event last Thursday, and I appreciate you sharing your perspective. For those who might've missed it: On Thursday night, David was interviewed at An Evening with David Tennant, which was held at (of all places) a church in Chiswick.

The interviewer for this event was Deborah Frances-White, author of The Guilty Feminist and host of a podcast by the same name. David and Georgia have a long history with this author, going back at least several years to when they were in a Silver Linings video for her podcast during the pandemic (a video that is very surreal and oddly prophetic to watch now).

From what I've ascertained, it seems like she interrupted/talked over David a great deal, and seeing how this author is also one of Georgia's favorite writers and Georgia was in the audience on Thursday, all of this has to be the lens through which we consider and discuss everything that happened.

For the first part you mentioned, it does seem that someone took video, so I will post it beneath the cut so folks can have a visual:

The biggest thing for me is that as soon as the interviewer starts gushing about Georgia/their relationship, David's body language noticeably changes. I know we've said how wiggly David is under most circumstances (to where there's even an entire blog here on Tumblr dedicated to how he can't sit normally in chairs). But as soon as she starts gushing about their relationship (specifically, what would happen if they ever broke up), he's so far to one side that he's all but launching himself out of the chair entirely. And when she makes the comment about the PM declaring that monogamy is over, David reaches for cup of water, which is possibly the oldest and most well known "I'm uncomfortable" maneuver in the book.

I'm not sure why this woman thought this was an appropriate venue/time to say all that, but she seems to be projecting what she thinks David and Georgia's relationship is--that is, based on what they've shown her of their relationship--in a public forum where both of them are present, and where David has no room to say anything else. But to go so over-the-top with it (while also talking over David/dominating the conversation in general) makes it feel more out of place and stand out for the wrong reasons.

Which then takes us to the questions you mentioned, the "What turns you on?" and so forth. It turns out these questions were lifted verbatim from what James Lipton used to ask on Inside the Actor's Studio--although to go back further, the questions are actually from Marcel Proust, who originated the Proust Questionnaire. Many interviewers have used them since, but usually put their own personal spin or twist on the questions. The questions that this author lady asked, however, were identical to the ones from IATS. So knowing all of that, these seem like questions that were deliberately asked to elicit a specific response.

(I will say that one other thing I noticed was David wearing his 1970 jumper again, but with the sleeves noticeably pulled down in a way he doesn't normally wear them (see below pictures). In particular, the sleeve is curiously pulled down over his right wrist, again in a way he has never done so before...)

In thinking about David's answer to the "What turns you on?" question, what stood out to me was the immediacy of it. Again, this interviewer had just finished gushing over his relationship, they're in the middle of a church (which likely had a lot of personal resonance for David, growing up the son of a minister), and Georgia was in the room. So while it might not have been a dishonest answer, it was expected, and something he did not have to think about. It reminded me a great deal of DragonCon in 2019, when David was asked which co-star he had the best chemistry with. His immediate answer was, "Probably my wife." But then a few moments later, he said "Maybe I should've married Michael Sheen." So that in a way illustrates the possible difference between the prepared answer vs. what he might have been thinking more deeply about.

Which then takes me to the mentions of Michael and particularly interestingly, what David said about GO and Crowley/Aziraphale. Because what we're talking about here is vulnerability, and opening up a hidden side of yourself in a forum such as this. David's answers to "What turns you on?" and "What turns you off?" were predictable and performative, but they were not vulnerable. Contrast that to what one of the attendees recounted about him discussing Crowley/Aziraphale, and it's night and day...

When I first read this, my jaw hit the floor. The entire lack of subtlety, to where you almost don't even need to read between the lines anymore. What David did here is what Michael was already doing back in 2019--connecting himself to the character in a deeply personal way, to where the line is blurry as to where Crowley ends and David begins. Crowley needs his "best friend" but can't express it? And it's very "Scottish Presbyterian" of him? I mean...I don't think you need to be a member of MENSA to put the pieces together at this point.

This was David being vulnerable. This was him opening up and saying something that we never heard him say before, and it was extraordinary. He went into detail in a way he did not with the answers related to Georgia. He didn't say why or how she inspires him creatively, just that she did. He gave a perfect answer, but that's not the same thing as a heartfelt one. And for him to say what he said about Crowley/Aziraphale in this context, at this particular event, and after everything that's been going on with GO for the last few months, is absolutely huge.

I love that you pointed out the genuineness of David talking about Michael as well. I had heard from another report that he said something like, "What's he ever done for charity... Oh, wait, maybe it's not the best week to be saying that." Which tells us that David is keenly aware of what Michael has done and gave his full attention to every single second of the documentary. (The "oh, wait, maybe it's not the best week to be saying that" implying that it's obvious and that everyone already knows what he's talking about...or at least should know.)

When it comes to Michael, David never seems to go for canned/prepared answers, but instead speaks from the heart. He didn't need someone there hyping up his and Michael's relationship to try and encourage those responses--he just gave them on his own. The real emotion that David showed in making these comments/talking about GO was more than noticeable, and seems to be what so many people have reacted to most strongly since then.

This brings me to my last point, which is the response in the aftermath of all this. Knowing that Georgia was there, and knowing the responses David gave to those ITAS questions, you would think that she would've posted something on Insta about the event. At the very least, something about this author lady, who is a friend of hers and her favorite writer and so on, and what a great job she did at the event. But what did Georgia post about this event?

Nothing.

Two Insta stories about an upcoming event with this author and David in April. But not one single thing about this past Thursday. Given everything just discussed above, it would make all the sense in the world for her to be bragging or at least just mention him in some capacity. And yet...nothing.

So yes, those are my thoughts on the event David spoke at this past Thursday. I'm glad you got to go, Anon, and had such a lovely time. Thanks for reporting in! x

#anonymous #reply post #david tennant #georgia tennant #michael sheen #an evening with david tennant #chiswick church #also Georgia was hiding in the back of the church apparently #add that to the lack of anything on Insta and yeah #choices #not all of them good #all of this makes me wonder even more what is going to happen on The Assembly #it will certainly be interesting to see #thoughts #relationships #discourse

37 notes · View notes

redgoldsparks · 7 months ago

Text

Podcasts I love and recommend

I spent a truly extraordinary amount of time listening to podcasts this year, including my perennial faves and some new discoveries! I wanted to write up a bit about each of the ones I recommend the most highly, and give them some of the same attention and love I put into my book reviews. Recs below the cut. (This post brought to you by my patreon).

MATERIAL GIRLS- This is, hands down, my favorite podcast of all time. Friends and scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman take on a new pop culture subject in each episode and examine the material conditions and historical setting that made their subject of the week zeitgeisty. They bring an expansive feminist lens, different types of critical theory, and tons of humor to each topic. I feel like I am slowly getting a media studies degree one episode at a time as I listen to this show. Some of my favorite episodes tackled Jurassic Park, Dopamine, Twilight, Taylor Swift, Bridgerton, and Queer Eye. I have guested on this podcast and also support them on patreon so I can get all of that sweet sweet bonus content! (This show uploads full transcripts but they lag behind the audio episodes in updates).

GENDER REVEAL- Journalist, writer, and now small-press founder Tuck Woodstock interviews trans folks on a wide range of topics. A characteristic episode includes some deeply intimate or tender moments mixed with wild tangents, extreme silliness and irreverence. I listen to every single episode and also back them on patreon for the extra episodes; some recent conversations that have really stuck with me include Colby Gordon, a founder of Early Modern Trans Studies; trans historian Susan Stryker; Jewish anti-Zionist comic author Solomon J Brager; writer Lucy Sante; and multimedia artist (and friend of mine) Shing Yin Khor. This podcast gets a special award for recommending more books that I actually end up reading than any other podcast. This year alone I’ve read at least 6 books by authors Tuck has interviewed (I Heard Her Call My Name, Heavyweight, Hijab Butch Blues, Transgender History, Boys Weekend, Practical Anarchism, Falling Back in Love With Being Human) and I have more on my TBR (The Prospects, When Monsters Speak). (This show also uploads full transcripts).

PUBLISHING RODEO- This is a new fav! I discovered this podcast over the summer and binged all 44 available episodes in about a month. Hosts Sunyi Dean and Scott Drakeford are friends and fellow Tor authors. In 2022, they both released debut novels in the same genre, in the same year, with the same publisher, to very different results. They are remarkably candid about the nuts and bolts of their publishing deals, and in each episode interview another author, usually one early in their publishing career, on signing agents, selling books, the size of their advance, resulting royalties and more. I have learned so much about the publishing industry from this show- I’ve sold 3 books, and yet it turns out there’s still loads I don’t know. I’d recommend starting with the intro episode in which Sunyi and Scott introduce themselves and then you can jump around to any interview which interests you. Their recent conversation with Chuck Tingle was especially delightful. (This show also uploads full transcripts).

PRINT RUN PODCAST- Another new discovery, also about the publishing/writing industry. Hosts Laura Zats and Erik Hane are both literary agents at a small agency they founded together. They discuss current events in the book news world or focused single subjects, often for early career writers. Because this show is more focused on current events, I haven’t dived super far into their back catalog, but listened to a handful of episodes from the past two years and plan to continue listening as new episodes are released. Laura and Erik also have a very cool patreon special bonus offering- they will critique query letters and first pages submitted from listeners. I haven’t written a query letter since probably 2017, so the refresher course was extremely valuable! I’d recommend the episode The Books That Made Us as a good starting point in this show. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

FIC CLIQUE- This is an old favorite I have recommended before. In a standard episode, the three hosts Nic, Reid, and Brenna each bring one fanfiction to read and discuss book-club style. In the past year, I’ve been particularly enjoying some of the mini-episodes that break this format. If you want to give it a try but you’ve less interested in hearing people talk about a fandom you aren’t in, I’d suggest the episodes on Mapping Fannish Migration, Books and Fandom, and Genre and Subgenre in Fanfiction. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

FANSPLAINING- Tragically (for me), this beloved long-running show wrapped this summer with its final standard format episode after 9 years and 200+ episodes. However, there’s still more to look forward to! Fansplaining has shifted to become primarily a publisher of fandom related journalism, and they’ve been releasing audio versions of each article along with the text, generally recorded by the author. I find these so charming, almost like new mini episodes of the show. Find a full list of their articles here; I especially loved the recent ones on The Beatles RPF fandom (still going strong!) and Bringing Fanfiction into the Classroom. (This show has full transcripts).

SHELVED BY GENRE- In this show, the three hosts re-read popular sci-fi or fantasy book series and record long rambling episodes which both summarize and analyze their current texts. When I say they ramble… most episodes are over 2 hours, some pushing 3 hours. I started on this show when they began reading the Earthsea series by Ursula K Le Guin, which I have read multiple times in past years. I skipped their episodes on Gene Wolfe, who I haven’t read, as well as some movie and horror focused episodes. But I happily dived back in for the unit on Mercedes Lackey’s Last Herald Mage Trilogy, which was perhaps the first book with an out queer character I ever read; the queer host on the show, Michael, similarly remembers this as a foundational queer text from his teen years. I am very happy that the next author the hosts plan to discuss is William Gibson, who I might re-read to keep pace with the show. I recommend checking out their 40+ back episodes to see if there’s something you are interested in! (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

STUFF THE BRITISH STOLE- I found this 3 season podcast sometime in the middle of the year, hosted by an Australian journalist following the trail of objects (or sometimes animals or people) the British stole during the height of their colonial reign. The episodes generally run 35-45 minutes and feature interviews, history, and usually live records of the host seeing the item, whether it’s currently in a museum, a private collection, a random high school, or the site of a foreign grave. You can jump around to whatever topic that interests you, but I can definitely recommend the episode Blood Art as one of very few in which an item is repatriated! (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

LIVE LIKE THE WORLD IS DYING- A Margaret Killjoy and a group of queer anarchist friends rotate the hosting of this show. Once a month they release a “This Month in the Apocalypse” update which I started listening to in November and plan to keep up with going forward, but probably won’t listen to back episodes of as it’s very current-events focused. However there are other conversations/interview style episodes released between the monthly updates. Two recent interviews that really stuck with me were Spencer Sunshine on his zine “40 Ways To Fight Fascists” (which I subsequently downloaded and read) and Henri Feola on their zine “The Veil Between Worlds is Plexiglass”, which chronicles some of their experience spending 96 days in jail after being arrested protesting Atlanta’s Cop City and the police murder of Tortuguita, a protester defending the Weelaunee People’s Forest. I have a friend in Atlanta who was arrested at the same protest so I’ve been following this case; this conversation felt important and needed, as I expect there will be even more arrests of protestors in the coming years. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

BORROWED AND BANNED- The Brooklyn Public Library released this 7 episode limited run podcast on book bans, book challenges, how it’s affecting teachers, students, librarians and authors. I was one of several authors interviewed for the show, and you can hear my interview as a separate bonus episode; but I highly recommend listening to the whole thing because it’s a very close and personal look at these national issues- which I expect to get worse under the Trump administration. (This show has full transcripts).

SOLD A STORY- This is a 10 episode limited run podcast about how a misinformed educational specialist’s incorrect idea of how children learn to read damaged the literacy of a whole generation of school children. This podcast explores different research on reading, how sweeping educational policies like Bush’s “No Child Left Behind” impacted schools and how textbook companies pushing expensive reading-kit book sets have all negatively impacted schools. The later episodes contain messages and voicemails from parents, teachers, and students reacting to the show and some hope of change on better educational resources. I’ve probably made this sound dry but it’s genuinely a very emotional journey- as someone who really struggled to learn to read, I found this show riveting. (This show has full transcripts).

THE REDEMPTION OF JAR JAR BINKS- This 6 episode limited run show is hosted by Dylan Marron, better known as the host of Conversations with People Who Hate Me and for his role as Carlos on the podcast Welcome to Nightvale. Marron was the target of a fair amount of internet hate himself, which made him interested in how people express hate towards public figures online, and why. This led him to investigate what is possibly the first ever case of cancellation online: the rage directed at the character Jar Jar Binks in the Star Wars prequel series which began releasing in 1999, and how that hate destroyed the mental health of and nearly ended the acting career of the young Black actor who voiced and helped develop the character. Marron is a deeply compassionate interviewer, and a good researcher. He finds and talks to fans who built “kill Jar Jar Binks” websites in the days of the early web, he interviews the actor, Ahmed Best, he interviews folks involved with the production on the Star Wars prequels. I am a lukewarm Star Wars fan at best (lol) but I loved this podcast. (This show has full transcripts).

WIND OF CHANGE- I picked up this 8 episode limited run podcast because it was researched, written and hosted by Patrick Radden Keefe, the author of Say Nothing, one of the best nonfiction books I’ve ever read. In this show, Keefe digs into rumors of the CIA using cultural productions, especially pop music, as propaganda weapons against the Soviet Union during the Cold War. In particular, he’s interested in one song, “Winds of Change”, by German rock group The Scorpions which became an anthem of change shortly before the fall of the Berlin Wall and then the end of the Soviet Union. Keefe is friends with someone who does a lot of recruiting of ex-CIA folks and has also written a whole book on the CIA, so he’s not without background or connections on this subject; but the question he most wants an answer to might not be one he can ever answer. This was gripping and intriguing, and made me think a lot about soft power and propaganda more generally. (This show has full transcripts).

#podcasts #podcast recommendations #podcast recs

71 notes · View notes

velidewrites · 2 months ago

Note

Lmao I’m sorry but i have to ask what would be the reaction of each brother if a child / kid crawled into their lap and hugged them asking to play with them?

Like the kid sees the brother in the main hall or sitting down reading and relaxing and they just walk up to them crawl into their lap and hugs them; then proceeds to pull out their favorite toy asking to play!

LOL this is a good question! I like to think all Vanserras, purely by virtue of who they are/their upbringing, are absolute catastrophes with children. EXCEPT for Eris who I headcanon to have been great with his brothers when they were kids until Beron sank his claws into them and the rest is history :))

Sylas's reaction would be freezing completely. You know that unusual, Fae stillness Feyre often describes? Picture that exactly except there's a kid who'd crawled into his lap. It looks extra ridiculous because Sylas is huge and a grown male general should absolutely not have such an intense reaction to a little kid. But Sylas is like... what is this? What does it do? What am I supposed to do with it? He was absent for Marcel, Perses and Ulric's childhoods, fighting in the first War or other minor conflicts. Vermilion was a preteen when Beron forced him to train under Sylas, so I don't really count that, and by the time Lucien came around, Sylas was completely uninterested in having anything to do with him. So yeah — kids are a novelty to him.

HOWEVER the same can't be said for when Sylas finds his mate and a kid crawls into their lap. Brain short circuits immediately, breeding kink activated as he— [I am promptly executed by a firing squad]

Marcel does not go around children and it's probably for the best. His aura is enough to keep anyone from approaching him, really, so I can't imagine a scenario where a kid would willingly hug him, let alone crawl into his lap. AGAIN IT'S FOR THE BEST

Vermilion was great, amazing, excellent with baby Lucien... by his own standards. Vermilion, you are NOT supposed to bring a six year old into debauched taverns. He adored Lucien's bright, sparkly eyes admiring his older brother as he picked up a particularly beautiful nymph at the bar. Look at the rake Lucien turned out to be, Vermilion!! Whose fault do you think it is?? WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE

Anyway I think Vermilion would be the type of guy to grab your child and ask if they want to play, then throw them five feet in the air and proceed to act all confused when you get mad. He landed right back in my arms, perfectly safe, did he not? I don't understand what the problem is. Look at how much fun he's having—HEY GIVE ME THE CHILD BACK

Lucien, I think, would be very similar to Vermilion (GOSH I WONDER WHY), but tamed by the rational instincts of his partner. Lucien I love you but let's take a step back and think about why taking our two year old cliff diving in Adriata is a TERRIBLE idea. Okay. I'm SO glad you agree. NO WE CAN'T PICK A SMALLER CLIFF

Eris to me is the one somewhat sane person around a child in the group. He was there, in whatever capacity he could manage at the time, for each and every one of his brothers when they were little. He'd let baby Sylas sneak out of the House and follow him on hunts, pretending he can't see him but really keeping an eye on his safety the whole time. He used to read Marcel children's books to sleep. He dedicated months to research in the Day Court to create a protective mask and gloves when Marcel's power first manifested. When one of his hounds had puppies, he sent them to Vermilion's room after a particularly bad dinner party Beron had hosted. Vermilion was supposed to keep his mouth shut, but his enthusiasm charmed some of the Forest House's guests, to Beron's dismay. The puppy, curled up in Vermilion's lap, made him forget about the aftermath of the evening. Eris was the first one to ever call Vermilion "Ver." Eris protected Lucien from Beron's wrath his entire life.

I think, with strangers' children, Eris would offer a quiet kind of stillness. If a child ran up to him and hugged him tight, Eris would let it linger for a second longer than he should've before peeling them off of him. Sending them off with a soft-spoken warning: be careful who you offer your affection to. Go back to your parents now. He'd send the child away, but would secretly make sure they've returned to their parents' side safely Then, finally, he'd turn back to the rest of the party gathered, proclaiming children to be a nuisance, disdain clear on his face.

#sorry for making Eris's painful but in my heart i just know i'm right #ocsylas #ocmarcel #ocvermilion #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #lucien vanserra

31 notes · View notes

spikeface · 1 month ago

Note

Marcel for the character asks? 👀 I know we don’t get like TONS about him in canon, but I also suspect you have lots of thoughts :)

Omg okay I love this, I think I'm just gonna give a few Marcel-related thoughts rather than doing the meme because this is a fun chance to ramble about him, Theo, and Scott (and Allison and Kira, and also colonialism's relationship to alchemy).

1. My headcanon is that Marcel keeps Theo around to access medical records.

This is not a perfect headcanon but it's the best one I've got for why Marcel keeps Theo around, especially early on.

Because, like, POV you're a ruthless alchemist who cares about nothing but success. This nine year old is the closest you've come and maybe at first seems like he might be a success: he's the only stable experiment after hundreds of years of attempts (you lowkey suck at this), and he's even able to fully shift into a coyote-wolf.

But eventually it becomes clear that he's not a suitable host for the Beast. So unsuitable, in fact, that you pivot your entire approach to be about finding people who are already genetic chimeras, rather than this whole organ-theft evil-litmus-test business.

Which means you've got an obsolete experiment and a need for medical records.

It's the mid-2000s, when medical records are increasingly standardized to be digital.

You're a walking electromagnet. Computers hate your horrible body.

Theo makes it his baby business to finagle his way into medical records. Maybe it was even relevant to his parents' jobs?

This would explain why they keep him around, especially when he's younger. I know it's popular in fandom to say he helps lure in the experiment subjects, but I think it's significant that we literally never see him do this onscreen.

What Theo and Marcel do talk about is Theo being tasked with keeping Scott out of Marcel's way, but Marcel also seems to initially have no faith in Theo's ability to do this, as evidenced by the creation of Belasko. Belasko's sole job is to go weaken Scott! He's not meant to be a potential host for the Beast, it seems, because they kill him without seeing if he'll become unstable: his one job was Scott, and he failed.

My interpretation of that is that Marcel didn't think Theo could handle the true alpha, since the McCall pack is notably more involved in fights than other packs (as Theo later remarks upon). And especially when he was nine or ten, how helpful could Theo have been in keeping packs away? Or almost anything else to do with the experiments, since Marcel had been doing them without the help of a nine year old for literal centuries? Making him in charge of newfangled digital paperwork would mean he solves a new problem for Marcel, and explains why Theo seems to be otherwise generally underfoot when he's not dealing with the pack. Marcel has no other jobs for him, and seems to otherwise regard him as a nuisance to be tolerated (as long as he doesn't cross certain lines).

It would also explain Theo's casual confidence with Donovan's medical documents. It had to have been him who got those confidential files. Certainly him who printed them out.

I confess there's a problem with this headcanon, which is that Theo doesn't seem to know that Mason is a genetic chimera. I have no real answer for this except that either 1) Theo got the paperwork out of the way as fast as possible, not really paying attention, or 2) Marcel had gotten irritated with his dependence on Theo, and had been working on ways to access the files himself, all while Theo got older and more capable of handling local packs. Anyway, that's my two cents. #mycents

2. Marcel is properly not a doctor but an alchemist, and the show could have done even more with this by making Scott the Beast.

The Dread Doctor framework is alchemy: the symbolism of the ouroboros, the use of mercury, and the symbolic goal of alchemizing prima materia into the ultimate evil. Marcel is presented as beyond even the fringes of alchemy because he's already, essentially, discovered the elixir of life, one of the primary goals of the alchemists' search for the philosopher's stone. Marcel is an alchemist's alchemist.

Someone else has already pointed out that the pack symbol--represented as two circles for the first time in the alchemy season--is the alchemical symbol for the sun/gold. I adore this connection but am also certain it's not intentional. But it could have been! Scott coming back from the darkest night, ruled over by the strongest moon, to announce his resurrection through the symbol of the sun. The meta really says it all but I adore it.

Another fun little alchmey thing is that the alchemical Latin term for mercury is argentum vivum: living silver. The Allison of it all! Especially since mercury represents the principles of fusibility and volatility, and is best exemplified in Theo, the most fusible and volatile chimera. I don't know how the show could have incorporated this but it couldn't have been worse than the ham-fisted use of damnatio memoriae.

My last fun fact is that another classic Teen Wolf material shows up in the alchemical record: obsidian, known for its connection to Tezcatlipoca. In alchemy, the most famous bit of obsidian was a disc of obsidian obtained (with a very sus lack of provenance) by John Dee, an English alchemist. It has been since identified as an Aztec "smoking mirror," the symbol of Tezcatlipoca.

Marcel could have had one as well! He could have used it, say, to turn Scott into a hybrid of werewolf and berserker--maybe the twin sets of DNA are already there, a remnant of Scott's unique ability to break out of the berserker mask--and turn him into... the Beast, dun dun dun! It would have been so sick.

And with obsidian being critical to the process, Kira's obsidian tail could have been crucial to rescuing Scott. It would have built on season 4 so well. Are you seeing my vision?

#teen wolf #theo raeken

20 notes · View notes

oceanjoker · 6 months ago

Text

ZED STORIES

Chapter 1 "Emergency Broadcast"

Summary: The exact date of the initial outbreak is unknown. The military quickly set up an "exclusion zone" around Louisville before it managed to spread further, the military established a blockade surrounding the infected areas of Muldraugh, Riverside, West Point, and Rosewood, dubbed the Knox Exclusion Zone. 9 days has passed ever since all of this started, these were the end of times, there was no hope for survival...

Featuring: Scotty (Fourzeroseven) , Marcel (BasicallyIdoWrk), Brian (Terroriser), Daithi de Nogla The garage smelled like gasoline and rust, and there was a faint hum from the generator in the corner cutting through the silence. Marcel adjusted the knob on the improvised radio transmitter. It was a mess of wires and duct tape holding it together like everything else in his life over the past days. A flickering lantern on the workbench cast long shadows across the walls, bouncing off stacks of canned food and water jugs. The garage door, reinforced with planks and scraps of metal, creaked softly in the wind, its strength untested but unyielding for now. He took a deep breath and pressed the transmission button.

“Good afternoon survivors! I am your host BasicallyIdoWrk, and it’s been 9 days since whole hell broke loose! crazy how time flies, no matter how shitty they are, and if you’re hearing this. Congrats! you are alive and you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back”

He stopped for a moment to clap near the microphone, but as soon as he was going to continue, Scotty entered the garage, his lab coat was very dirty and worn out but it still stood out in the dark environment. He didn’t say anything, just crouched near the generator doing his daily check up to make sure it is working properly. Marcel turned back to the microphone:

“Anyways, I’m in one of the five houses from the gated community of Rosewood. It's not perfect but we got some fences to keep us safe, we got food, clean water and even electricity thanks to my lovely friend Scotty”

“You’re welcome!” Scotty called across the garage.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that he is a bad cook, so if you’re nearby, come by for a taste of burned canned soup. Or, you know, just say hi. Zombies not invited tho”

Scotty rolled his eyes but chuckled. "At least I’m cooking, Mr. ‘I’ll just eat chips again.’"

Outside, the streets of Rosewood were quiet, the only sounds being the occasional groans of the undead and the soft rustling of the wind. the two had already gotten used to this sound. But they knew that danger was always there…

"Think anyone’s actually listening to your little comedy show bud?"

Marcel slightly moved the microphone away and placed one of his hands in front of it. "I don’t know. Maybe. But even if nobody hears it, it keeps me sane. It keeps us sane." he whispered.

“Fair enough” Scotty said as he turned back to check on the generator.

Marcel brought the microphone back, but static sounds began to echo through the garage. Scotty looked at the small, rudimentary radio on the table.

The static continued for a few seconds that seemed like hours, but then it stopped, and a voice came through the radio.

"This is addressed to those unaffected by the second wave of the Infection. The disease will not spread to you as it has to others, but through fluid contact, by which I mean bites, It surely will. The time has come to bear arms against this threat. They may be your family, They may be your friends. DO NOT hesitate to pull the trigger. These are dark days, but as a nation we can and will prevail. You have not been forgotten.”

“Oh this again, It’s been a whole week and guess what? we are still in here, trapped in this shithole YOU provoked”

Scotty said, completely frustrated. He was obviously tired of his new routine and soon continued with the generator maintenance procedure. “And guess what? Earlier a helicopter flew by. You flew right past us while we waved like idiots!, So what’s the fucking point of this message?”

“Hey at least the zombies that were following its sound headed to the north with it,I wouldn’t want to deal with that many zombies,” Marcel said as he stretched out in the chair. “And now they are far away”

“We will come for you. General John McGrew, Out."

The static returned, permeating Marcel’s ears. Pushing the radio equipment away, Marcel slowly laid his head on the table and hid his face with his hoodie, soon beginning to think.

He was safe. His shelter was completely barricaded. He was hydrated and fed. But what now? He hadn’t found anyone other than Scotty, who seemed to be slowly losing hope. He had been trying to contact other survivors for a week, and for all he knew, all his friends could be dead. It was only a matter of time before all his resources ran out. There was no sign of help. There was no way the world he once knew would return to what it was before…

These were the end times. There was no hope of survival…

Scotty tried to reach for his shoulder to comfort him but was interrupted by loud grunts from outside. Marcel then grabbed his sword, tightening his grip. He motioned for Scotty to keep quiet.

Then they heard it- A human scream

He stood, his heart pounding. “Someone’s out there.” Marcel said

“Who 's screaming? don’t they know the zombies are heavily attracted by sounds?!” Scotty whispered

“I don’t know but can’t you see? We are NOT THE ONLY ONES!” Marcel said with a bit of hope

“Could be a trap.” Scotty muttered while grabbing a golf club

Marcel stepped to the garage door, carefully peering through a narrow gap in the barricade. What he saw made his stomach twist. Two figures were limping down the street, illuminated by the fading sunlight. One of them, a man, was carrying another man who was missing his right leg below the knee. The stump was wrapped in a bandage soaked with blood, the red staining the asphalt beneath him as they stumbled forward. Behind them, a horde of at least fifteen zombies shambled in pursuit, their guttural moans growing louder.

“We need to help them” Marcel said looking back at Scotty

Scotty hesitated. “If we let them in, the horde will come down on us. The barricade won’t hold against that many.”

“We can’t just leave them. If we don’t help, they’ll die.” Marcel looked at Scotty with a look of determination.

“Fine. But we do this smartly, or we’re all dead.” Scotty sighed

Marcel nodded and they opened the garage door enough to get out. He slipped out into the streets, crouching low as he darted toward the edge of the street. Scotty followed close behind

“Hey!” Marcel hissed as loudly as he dared, waving his arms to get the survivors’ attention. The man’s head snapped toward him and he could finally see his face a metallic texture, a shining red eye and then he realised.

“Brian?!” The word left his mouth before he even realized he had spoken it.

The figure froze. recognition flashed across his worn features. Then, in a voice hoarse from exhaustion but unmistakably his, he responded:

“Marcel?! How the hell are you alive?!”

“Over here! Come on! we can chat about this later” Marcel yelled as he pointed to the garage

Brian adjusted his grip on the injured man, dragging him towards the open garage door. Marcel rushed forward to help them, throwing the man’s arm over his shoulder to help. and as he looked, he recognized that the man was none other than Nogla

Marcel carried Nogla through the house's gate and into the garage. Brian followed, Scotty pushed two zombies away before slamming the garage door shut behind him.

“Help me put some weight here!” he yelled.

Marcel lowered Nogla onto a pile of blankets in the corner and rushed to Scotty’s side. Together, they shoved a heavy shelf against the gate as the first zombies slammed against it from the other side. The metal rattled violently, but the barricade held for now.

Breathing heavily, Marcel turned back to his friends. Brian was kneeling beside the injured Nogla, his hands pressed against his bleeding stump.

“Scotty!” Marcel called, his voice sharp.

“I’m on it!” Scotty grabbed the first-aid kit from the workbench and knelt beside Nogla, his movements swift and precise. He unwrapped the soaked bandage, grimacing at the raw, mangled flesh beneath. he looked away for a few seconds but knew he had to do the job

“This isn’t great,” he muttered. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and we don’t have the supplies for this. I can try to stop the bleeding, but...”

Marcel crouched beside him. “What do you need?”

“Something to cauterize the wound,” Scotty said. “A fire, a hot blade, something. If we don’t stop the bleeding now, he’s not going to make it.”

Marcel stood and scanned the garage, his eyes landing on a propane torch that Scotty had been using to sterilize tools. He grabbed it and handed it to him.

“This will work,” Scotty said, already flicking the igniter. The torch roared to life, the blue flame casting harsh shadows across the garage.

As Scotty prepared to cauterize the wound, the sound of the horde pounding against the barricade grew louder. Marcel glanced toward the door, his grip tightening on the sword.

“I need ten minutes, maybe less if you can keep those biters off us!”

“Is there another exit here? I can hold them down and buy us time” Brian said as he grabbed a metal pipe

“There are way too many zombies you won’t make it ali-” Marcel's protest is soon interrupted as soon as he notices Brian pointing at the robotic part of his face

“Oh…Ooooooooooooh…that makes sense.” Marcel muttered “Well, there’s a door that leads to the backyard but…I’m going with you, there’s no way i’ll leave you alone on this”

both of them made their way to the backyard, there was a brief moment of silent:

“I’ll be honest,” Marcel said, breaking the tense silence. “I thought you were dead.”

Brian’s red eye glowed faintly as he turned to Marcel. “Likewise. But here we are. Fancy reunion, don’t you think?”

As they approached the horde, Marcel yelled getting the zombies attention away from the garage door and he surged forward, his sword slicing clean through the neck of the nearest zombie. “First kill is mine!” he called out, adrenaline pumping.

Brian followed, swinging his pipe. The first hit sent a zombie flying into a concrete wall with a sickening crunch. “Two!” he counted.

“I missed this,” Marcel admitted, kicking a crawler back before driving his sword through its skull.

“Missed what? Killing zombies or me carrying you?” Brian quipped, impaling a rotting torso against a metal pole.

“A bit of both” Marcel laughed, narrowly dodging a grab from behind. “Plus you never carried me”

The horde kept coming, and the two friends didn’t falter. Marcel vaulted over a car hood, decapitating a zombie mid-leap, while Terroriser ripped the jaw clean off another before stomping it into the ground.

“That’s eight!” Marcel yelled, sweat dripping down his face.

“Eleven, twelve” Brian corrected, swinging his pipe like a baseball bat to take out two more.

“I wasn’t counting yours!” Marcel shot back, grinning.

“Oh wow thanks…It's good to know that you consider me so much” Brian responds in a sarcastic tone

meanwhile in the garage, Scotty worked quickly

“This is gonna hurt, but it’ll save your life,” Scotty muttered, turning to Nogla.

Nogla looked at him, his expression stricken. “Just do it man. Do it fast for God’s sake!”

Scotty took the torch and moved to Nogla’s leg, his hands steady as he positioned the flame near the wound. Nogla’s body twitched slightly in response to the heat, his entire body going rigid as the flame touched his flesh. The smell of searing skin filled the air, and the blood flow slowed as the flesh sealed. Nogla screamed through clenched teeth but the sound was drowned out by the chaos of the fight outside.

“We’re almost done!” Scotty shouted, his voice strained. “Just hold them off!”

Marcel and Brian exchanged a glance, a mix of exhaustion and determination in their eyes. They faintly heard Scotty’s words and they turned back to the remaining zombies, their movements growing more savage as the last few zombies staggered toward them.

Marcel’s sword cleaved through three at once, and Terroriser smashed the final two into the pavement. The street fell silent, save for the sound of their heavy breathing.

“That’s fifteen,” Marcel said, leaning on his sword tired. “Wow i’m that good at slaying zombies"

Scotty finished tying off Nogla’s wound and said “Are you guys done playing? I don’t hear anymore zombies”

“For now,” Marcel said, sheathing his sword. He turned to Brian and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to see you again, man. Really.”

They entered the house again, making sure it was locked as the night falls, they quickly make their way to the garage where they see Scotty and Nogla who was very weak

“He needs to rest, could any of you carefully put him in one of the bedrooms upstairs?”

Marcel raised a hand weakly. “Hard pass. I just killed, like, a hundred zombies.”

“Fifteen” Brian corrected as he leaned against the wall, the metal pipe resting on his shoulder.

“Whatever. Feels like a hundred,” Marcel shot back, waving him off.

Brian sighed, his glowing eye narrowing as he stepped forward. “Fine. I’ve got him. I will take the damsel in distress to her bed”

With almost no effort, Terroriser lifted Nogla like he weighed nothing. Nogla groaned dramatically. “Oi! Go easy on me, ya muppet! I’ve already lost a leg!”

“Quit whining, or I’ll drop you,” Brian replied, his tone deadpan as he went up the creaky stairs. Nogla muttered something unintelligible, but for Nogla that was pretty normal and a good sign that he was ok, but the sound of his voice faded as Brian carried him to the bedroom.

Downstairs, Marcel sat on the ground leaning his back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as Scotty sat at his side, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Man I can’t believe out of all the people we found them” Marcel said, breaking the silence. “We finally found some people of our crew”

Scotty shook his head, chuckling bitterly. “I didn’t even know they were alive. I’m surprised to see them”

Scotty smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “ I mean, Now that makes us four. We’ve got a shot. But…” he looked down “Do you think the others are still out there?”

Marcel kept looking at the ceiling

“I don’t know, It’s hard to say…But this is why I still do the transmissions, If we keep trying to look for them, we can find them, or maybe they can find us”

“Just hope not as zombies” Scotty jokes

Brian’s heavy footsteps then echoed down the stairs, and he appeared in the doorway, his glowing eye scanning the room.

“He finally fell asleep,” he said, leaning against the wall. “After complaining about everything instead of thanking me that he is alive”

“Good.” Scotty said, standing up. “Because tomorrow, we start figuring out what’s next. If there’s even a chance that some of the crew’s alive, we'll find them.”

“So since when are you a doctor Scotty? What did I miss ever since the Knox event started?” Brian asked

“Oh, I’m not a doctor. a real doctor could’ve done better, I just use this for style ya know” Scotty responds while brushing some dust off his lab coat.

"Could’ve fooled me!" Brian gestured at the old bandages and the pile of bloody rags on the ground "You just saved Nogla’s life like it was no big deal. What’s next? Brain surgery?!"

Marcel Chuckled. "He’s just been reading medicine books nonstop since the TV broke."

Brian blinked. "Wait, what?"

Marcel grinned

"Yeah. Back when the power went out and we lost the TV, Scotty needed something to do. So, while I was building this little radio station he started raiding libraries and bookstores for medical books. I’m talking anatomy, first aid, surgery, you name it."

"Figured someone had to know how to handle this stuff. Can’t exactly call 911 anymore." Scotty chuckled

Brian threw his hands up. "Unbelievable. I’ve been out there dodging zombies and scavenging, and you’ve been sitting here reading?"

"But hey, thanks to Scotty and his newfound doctor skills, Nogla’s not a zombie food. I say that’s a win."

"It’s not like I’m good at this. I’m just doing…what I can."

Marcel stood up "Alright, we saved Nogla. He’s not turning into zombie food anytime soon. But now what?"

Brian furrowed his eyebrow. "What do you mean ‘now what’? We bunker down, keep quiet, and let him heal. right?"

Scotty shook his head "We can’t just sit here. We’re low on medical stuff, and Nogla’s gonna need more than just rest. If we leave his leg as it is, he’s screwed. Infection, immobility... he’ll be a sitting duck."

"Great," Brian muttered, rubbing his face. "So what are you suggesting?"

Marcel leaned forward, his tone unusually serious. "We need to hit a clinic. We find antibiotics, painkillers, and something we can use as a prosthetic for Nogla’s leg. Hell, even crutches would be a step up from him crawling around."

Brian blinked at him. "You want to go to a clinic? Every survivor in the area probably hit it already, and if they didn’t, you can bet the dead did! It’s in the center of Rosewood! there’s a lot of zombies out there"

Scotty shrugged. "Got a better idea?"

Brian opened his mouth to retort, then shut it. He sighed, leaning back against the wall. "No, I don’t. Damn it."

Marcel stood, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, then it’s settled. Tomorrow morning, we gear up and head out. Scotty you stay here and keep an eye on Nogla we’ll be back as soon as possible”

Scotty exhaled, shaking his head. “You’ll have to be careful. Too many open streets, too many blind spots. If the horde’s anywhere near that place, we’ll be in trouble.”

"Don’t worry, Scotty. Brian and I have this under control. Quick in, quick out, just like every bad heist movie."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Except instead of security guards, we’re dealing with zombies. Great plan."

"Same principle, fewer rules," Marcel quipped.

“Alright, just... be careful, okay? The Rosewood Medical Isn't far, it's in that strip mall nearby, but it’s still dangerous. If you see a horde, don’t play hero. Get what you need and get out."

Marcel gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir, Captain Cautious."

Brian pointed a finger at him. "He’s not wrong, Marcel. Don’t do anything stupid."

"Stupid? Me?" Marcel grinned "I’m the king of smart decisions."

Scotty and Brian exchanged a look, neither of them convinced.

The three of them shared a quiet laugh, their tension easing for a moment. Outside, the occasional groan of a wandering zombie reminded them of the world waiting beyond their barricades.

As the others headed upstairs to sleep, Scotty went back to the garage and sat at the workbench, pouring over the military notes by lantern light. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something important hidden in the documents and books he’d found while scavenging a nearby military outpost. Inside were fragments of data, mentions of a vaccine, well not a cure, but something that could lead to one if he searches more

"If there’s even a chance this could help," he whispered to himself, "it’s worth the sleepless nights."

The quiet of the night was broken only by the faint rustle of papers and the distant groan of a lone zombie wandering the street and for some snoring upstairs.

#bbs squad #banana bus squad #BasicallyIdoWrk #Scotty #fourzeroseven #Terroriser #Daithi de Nogla #Zomboid!AU #Zed Stories #By the way I won't be doing covers for the other chapter as this one is an exception cuz its being posted on tumblr #also this is my first time writting anything #like ever #I lived for two decades by now and haven't wrote any type of fic

45 notes · View notes

aioleis · 7 months ago

Text

David Bowie Answers the Famous Proust Questionnaire

What is your idea of perfect happiness? Reading.

What is your most marked characteristic? Getting a word in edgewise.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Discovering morning.

What is your greatest fear? Converting kilometers to miles.

In the 1880s, long before he claimed his status as one of the greatest authors of all time, teenage Marcel Proust (July 10, 1871–November 18, 1922) filled out an English-language questionnaire given to him by his friend Antoinette, the daughter of France’s then-president, as part of her “confession album” — a Victorian version of today’s popular personality tests, designed to reveal the answerer’s tastes, aspirations, and sensibility in a series of simple questions. Proust’s original manuscript, titled “by Marcel Proust himself,” wasn’t discovered until 1924, two years after his death. Decades later, the French television host Bernard Pivot, whose work inspired James Lipton’s Inside the Actor’s Studio, saw in the questionnaire an excellent lubricant for his interviews and began administering it to his guests in the 1970s and 1980s. In 1993, Vanity Fair resurrected the tradition and started publishing various public figures’ answers to the Proust Questionnaire on the last page of each issue.

In 2009, the magazine released Vanity Fair’s Proust Questionnaire: 101 Luminaries Ponder Love, Death, Happiness, and the Meaning of Life (public library) — a charming compendium featuring answers by such cultural icons as Jane Goodall, Allen Ginsberg, Hedy Lamarr, Gore Vidal, Julia Child, and Joan Didion. Among the most wonderful answers, equal parts playful and profound, are those by David Bowie — himself a vocal lover of literature — published in the magazine in August of 1998.

What is your idea of perfect happiness? Reading. What is your most marked characteristic? Getting a word in edgewise. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Discovering morning. What is your greatest fear? Converting kilometers to miles. What historical figure do you most identify with? Santa Claus. Which living person do you most admire? Elvis. Who are your heroes in real life? The consumer. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? While in New York, tolerance. Outside New York, intolerance. What is the trait you most deplore in others? Talent. What is your favorite journey? The road of artistic excess. What do you consider the most overrated virtue? Sympathy and originality. Which word or phrases do you most overuse? “Chthonic,” “miasma.” What is your greatest regret? That I never wore bellbottoms. What is your current state of mind? Pregnant. If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be? My fear of them (wife and son excluded). What is your most treasured possession? A photograph held together by cellophane tape of Little Richard that I bought in 1958, and a pressed and dried chrysanthemum picked on my honeymoon in Kyoto. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Living in fear. Where would you like to live? Northeast Bali or south Java. What is your favorite occupation? Squishing paint on a senseless canvas. What is the quality you most like in a man? The ability to return books. What is the quality you most like in a woman? The ability to burp on command. What are your favorite names? Sears & Roebuck. What is your motto? “What” is my motto.

Vanity Fair’s Proust Questionnaire is a treat in its colorful totality. For a similar compendium of wisdom from cultural icons, see��LIFE Magazine’s 1991 volume The Meaning of Life, then revisit Bowie’s 75 must-read books.

Article, https://www.themarginalian.org/2014/07/10/david-bowie-proust-questionnaire-vanity-fair/

#aboutart #historyofcoolkids #david bowie

34 notes · View notes

saudahpop · 6 months ago

Text

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅ Every Season is the Season of the Vampire ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

In the era of #Nosferatu and #Castlevania Nocturne it is absolutely time to draw some spookies!

Feel free to join in! Remember these prompt lists are not meant to be stressful! Do as many or as few as you wish with as many limitations as you choose. I look forward to seeing what people cook up both here and the Cultstarion Sever who is also hosting!

You can find a full list in text form below the cut!

FANGuary – prompt list

Carmilla (Any adaptation)

Alucard Tepes (Castlevania)

Akasha (Queen of the Damned)

Nosferatu (Any adaptation)

Spike (Buffy)

The Lost Boys (Multiple or just one)

Blade (Marvel)

Marcel Gerard (Originals)

Edward Cullen (Twilight)

Markus Corvinus (Underworld)

Atl (Certain Dark Things)

Lazlo, Nadja and Nandor (all or just one)

Blood Angels (Warhammer 40K)

Vladimir (League of Legends)

Tara Thornton (True Blood)

Louis, Lestat and Claudia (IWtV)

Hellsing Ultimate Alucard

Father Paul (Midnight Mass)

Orlox (Castlevania Nocturne)

Morbius (Marvel Comics)

Strahd (D&D)

Zeynel (Carpet Merchant of Konstantinyya)

Santanico Pandemonium (From Dusk Til Dawn)

D (Vampire Hunter D)

Astarion (Baldur’s Gate 3)

The Countess (AHS)

Lillith’s Sirens(True Blood)

Dracula (Any adaptation)

42 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 1 year ago

Text

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 27 - ‘You’re Mine’

“You want to come inside with me, baby? Because I’m really thinking you should.” Trent whispered greedily into your ear as your hands worked over his body. At this point you were practically grinding your body on him, his hands were all over you. Your innocent lay at a hang out with your friends in the back garden was starting to heat up. Unbeknownst to you the two girls Marcel had invited had been listening to your whole conversation start to finish, watching the interaction, since you strutted over from the pool to Trent currently kneading your ass with his big hands. The girls were over in an outdoor bar area close by and really there’s no better word to describe what they were doing other than fangirling over the pair of you. Since your ‘expose’ girls alike that followed or knew of Trent seemed to have a small obsession over you. The fact that the girls ended up in your back garden watching you first hand was just surreal to them.

“I’m actually obsessed with them, I’m shook we are here right now…” one girl quietly squealed to the other squeezing her arm trying to be nonchalant. To their benefit, in moments like this, you and Trent were in your own world. You had no concept that anyone else even existed. “He’s so fucking hot, I would do anything for him.” She continued whining and dreaming his hands were on her instead. Marcel had invited the two girls although one he knew better than the other. The lesser known clearly was a little more infatuated with Trent then he’d care for.

“I still can’t decide who I want to be in the relationship, to be fair.” The other confessed giggling as they tried to listen closer to your conversation watching Trent’s hands massage your bikini clad body while you kissed his bare chest. Hearing you talk about your lives had the girls torn between if seeing and listening to you on top of Trent was making them horny or if the whole thing was incredibly sappy and endearing, breaking their hearts wishing they had that type of love. The one Marcel knew better was leaning towards envy. When he eventually walked over to the girls to ask what they were up to they wouldn’t divert their attention away and just yessed his question, he followed their line of sight to see that they were gawking at you. He rolled his eyes unamused but not particularly surprised either. Whenever you and Trent hosted parties or hang outs you always allowed him to invite whoever he wanted, you trusted him and his friends but it wasn’t all that uncommon if he didn’t know them as well for them to be a little more than excited to be at a particular Alexander-Arnold’s home. He disregarded the ogling and wrapped his arms around the two girls before grabbing another drink for the three of them. As time passed you eventually peeled yourself off of Trent with the intention of meeting him back inside per his cheeky request. You scurried over to the bar area where they were first in hope of finding your currently missing phone.

“Marccce! I haven’t seen you all night where have you been?” You cooed, squeezing his shoulder, waking by him, eyes scanning the counters for your phone. You could’ve left it out but lately it started to make you more self conscious about what people could do with it so you began to search before your rendezvous with Trent inside.

“Been busy avoiding you.” He laughed a little, coming to give you a hug from behind while you still sought your phone out. You shook him off feigning annoyance. The two girls watched the interaction with eyes wide deducing the close relationship you two shared.

“Just rude all the time… I hope you’re at least being nicer to your guests.” You laughed back at him taking your first glance at the two younger girls standing beside him. One in a tiny bikini the other in a little cover up. Cute, you thought. “Have you seen my phone?” You asked him sliding your hand along the bar in hopes you’d miraculously graze over it.

“Nah, sorry… but by the way Y/N this is…” Marcel went on to introduce you to the two girls who were there now looking at you as if you were a celebrity. Both their faces nearly dropped, jaws slacked staring at you before their faces turned to show big gleaming smiles.

“I literally follow you on insta I’m so obsessed with you and Trent. You two are literal goals. You're both so hot… it’s insane.” One girl eagerly blurted out. Marcel looked less than impressed but he just ignored her. Your eyes widened as well surprised by the straightforward compliment. You weren’t sure you’d even call it a compliment but nevertheless. It was a little bold but fine, you were flattered. The other girl that stood slightly closer to Marcel spoke a little quieter, thanking you for having her at your home. It was clear fairly quickly that these two girls had very different personalities. One brave and outgoing, the over more timid and sheepish.

“Really… she and, most definitely, Trent are not that great. Don’t be too excited.” Marcel quipped with a laugh wrapping his arm around the more shy girl pulling her closer to him. Internally you furrowed your brow trying to deduce the situation between the three. You tried to recall his comments at dinner but were lacking so you attempted to try and read their body language for clues.

“Oh wow well that’s nice of you… all you.” You winked at Marcel. You were genuinely referring to the one girl's appreciation for your hospitality and sarcastically to Marcel all at the same time. You finally spotted your phone and grabbed it off the counter and squeezed Marcel’s arm glancing at the girls “Nice meeting you both! Hope you have a fun night! If you need anything just ask me! Marce isn’t exactly the most helpful.” You said as your voice tailed off walking away from them. You made your way through your back garden before you spotted George and beelined over to him. He started to shake his head as you came over.

“He’s inside already…” George spoke to you before you even got within arms distance. You gave him a big smile and swirled on your heel to turn around. You skipped towards the house in your little bikini excitedly. You slid open the big glass door and stepped into the warmly lit house. It was relatively quiet inside compared to the blasting music outside. You walked into the kitchen and looked around only for no Trent to be seen.

“T…” you cooed quietly as you skirted down the hallway slow peaking your head into every room. There was no response. You continued down the hall in your search. You peeked into the pantry, you looked into the laundry room, then you started to feel a little discouraged with your luck. That feeling began to disappear quickly though when you opened the door to a study, it was kind of like an office that neither of you really ever used but there leaned back on the desk was a very, very pretty Liverpudlian boy. The two of you definitely were going to put the room to use now.

“Took you long enough.” Trent cooed, coming to stand up straighter taking a step towards you with a big smile.

“Well, why did you have to go so far away!” You giggled stepping into his embrace as he spun you around, his hands dropping around your waist. Your hands coming to wrap around his neck as your nails scratched gently on his skin.

“Because, baby, I want you to be loud for me.” He whispered pulling you into a hot kiss. You felt your body shiver at his words, the warmth of his breath so close to your skin. You moaned as his hands slid down to grip your ass. He slapped it harshly as he slid his tongue in your mouth when you gasped. He picked you up from under your ass and placed you on the desk gently but forcefully. He stood between your legs spreading them apart with his looking down at you. His hands were just everywhere on you in an instant. He teased your nipples through your bikini, then suddenly your top hit the floor, your tits spilling out into the cold air. He was so nimble you couldn’t focus and he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Look so fucking beautiful like this.” He moaned as he rolled your hard nipples between two of his fingers. Swiftly he let go and grabbed your chin with his hand. “Gonna be a good girl f’me?” He cooed with a sinister smile. You just nodded, returning a similar grin. His hand slid down your front into your bikini bottoms.

“I’m so wet already, T…” you whined as you felt his fingers run through your folds. He gathered your slick before he began rubbing soft circles on your clit. Your whole body trembled in shock at how quick and rough he moved. You were desperate for him already.

“You’re horny baby aren’t you?” He asked pulling you a little closer to the edge of the desk towards himself as his fingers worked meticulously. “You’re fucking soaked, hmm? You’re so good f’me aren’t you, baby?” He whispered closer to you as his lips started to kiss on your neck leaving behind bite marks. He groaned when your hand slipped to palm his cock. You both were grinding into each other's hands. You nodded eagerly at him with a pout.

“I need you, T. Please, baby. I want your cock.” You moaned out when his fingers slipped inside you and began to work in and out of you at an inhumane pace.

“Nah, nah, nah baby. I want to hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear you make a mess all over my fingers first.” He cooed as he found a perfect rhythm. It was fast and hard. You were so close to your climax. You clawed at his back needing to feel him as you collapsed your head onto his shoulder, your mouth sucking ferociously on his neck, no doubt leaving behind a trail of evidence from your lips.

"Please let me cum, T, I need to cum" you cried with no shame, you needed to release. You couldn’t handle his teasing. The knot in your stomach was about to snap. You couldn’t maintain any composure if you wanted to.

"Cum all over my fingers" Trent said assertively coming to kiss your mouth as his fingers continued to plunge into your throbbing pussy, his thumb circling your clit. He continued at the fast pace leaving no time for you to tell him your high was about to crash over you. You moaned his name as you came before Trent’s hand slowed pulling out. His drenched hand slid up to push into your mouth. You desperately sucked around his fingers moaning. “Good girl. Tell me you’re a good girl.” He cooed watching you suck and shudder, your chest heaving.

“Fffuck.. fuck, T. Jesus.” You breathed so heavily. “I’m your good girl. I’m yours baby.” You felt hazy as Trent began to pump his cock with his other hand. He was so achingly hard for you. He squeezed his base as he dragged his leaking tip against you.He looked down at you with a devious smile. You nodded enthusiastically, “Please, baby.” You whined, begging. You bucked your hips before Trent grabbed them pulling you into him as he slid his thick cock inside you. You both let out pornographic noises feeling the other. He felt fucking perfect.

“You're so fucking perfect. You take my cock so well, baby.” He murmured as he sucked on your neck. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into you. You purred as he started to fuck into your pussy faster. He brought his hand down to massage your already sensitive clit. “Fuck baby. Needed you all night. Think you needed me to. Listen to how wet you are?” He groaned at the sound of your soaked pussy squelching as he rammed in and out.

“Uh huh, fuck T. You’re so big. Oh my god.” He lifted your leg over his shoulder, hitting a deeper spot that he knew would send you into a frenzy. Your body was jerking into his as he hit that spot over and over and over. You babbled, unable to focus on anything other than how massive he felt at this angle, hell, how massive he felt all the time. “l love you, baby.” You practically started crying as you hooked your arms around his neck.

“Watch, baby.” He pulled his body off yours some. He groaned, looking down at the sight he wanted you to see. “Watch it go in.” The view of his cock perfectly sliding in and out of you covered in slick had you practically orgasm instantaneously. He was obsessed with the way you’d arch your back in pleasure beneath him. His hand sliding around your body to hold the small of your back as he continued to fuck you. You moaned uncontrollably as hips stuttered when you clenched tighter around him. “Fuck, gonna fill you up, baby. You gonna cum for me again, beautiful?” You couldn’t answer the question too lost in the feeling before he let your leg drop, wrapping it around his waist as he laid his heavy weight onto you.

“Tell me you love me, T.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks as his hip movements slowed and a smug grin came over his face. He rocked into you softer before his fingers came and began to rub your clit in tight, fast circles again. He relished in getting you into a state like this,

“I fucking love you Y/N, I fucking love you baby.” He said punctuated by thrusts. Your arms gripped him tighter. “Hold onto me, just like that. Take my cock just like that.” You were dripping down your legs and all over him at this point. And with that realization, just like that, your walls pulsated around him creating an even stickier mess “Cum on my cock, baby. Just let go for me” he whispered almost out of breath as you tried to wrap your legs tighter around him. You nodded as you high crashed over you, fucking you deeper than before. You came and he didn’t let up, your thighs twitching with overstimulation. “Doing so good f’me. Almost there.” He cooed, gripping your waist harshly. His hands were bound to leave bruises, your nails dragged down his back.

“Fuck, fuck!” you moaned, digging your manicured nails into his skin further. “Please, T. Please, fill me up! I need it, I need your cum in me!” You whined when his hand let go of you and move to grab onto some of your hair. He pulled it and you back harshly so he had full access to your bare chest and neck. He dragged his lips from you collar bone up your throat. He pushed into you deeper one last time before painting your insides white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned. Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled into you.

“Jesus, baby… fuck, that was so good. You feel so good.” He fumbled his words as he let out contrived breaths holding you to him. You stayed close to him, your sticky bodies stuck together as you whispered ‘I love yous’ into his ear, your hand lightly raking up his spine after his movements halted. You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist. You probably should have gone and showered after that but instead you cleaned yourselves up slowly and returned outside with smug smiling faces. You held his hand walking back out and you gazed up mesmerized by that million-dollar smirk plastered onto his unfairly pretty face. You think you fell in love a little more in that moment as the moon and fairy lights cast over him. He gave you a cheeky wink before diving back into a conversation with friends casually like nothing just happened inside. You could only stand there with a child like grin clung to him, internally still recovering from your earth shattering orgasms.

The night started to fade closer into morning when the last person you didn’t really know all that well finally got an Uber and left so you felt like you could relax. It was a really fun rest of the night but now things had returned to normal. George was slumped on your couch watching TV with Trent and two other boys, where they were meant to be. Tyler being his usual helpful self was with you picking up a few things outside. You made your way back inside and saw your pretty boy still shirtless sitting on the couch. You beamed seeing him look so comfortable and so goddamn handsome. Tyler hopped over the back of the couch to sit near George but you opted to be slightly more graceful and walk around the room to them. You circled the couch and stood in front of Trent blocking his view, still dressed in your tiny bikini and a sly grin. He looked up at you with amusement. He definitely wasn’t complaining about your scantily clad body in the way of whatever was on the tv, he couldn’t even remember what it was once you were there.

“Yes?” He laughed some at you reaching his hand out to try to wrap his hands around your waist. You stepped back sucking your teeth. He looked back a little surprised and a furrowed brow that you weren’t letting him touch you.

“Youuuu are coming with me.” You sang, switching your facial expression to a big grin. You grabbed his hand and pulled him up out of his seat. He stood up and allowed you to drag him across and out of the living room. Everyone else in the room whistled and ‘OOooOoooOo’ teasing and just being the usual and general pain in the asses they were making fun knowing exactly what you wanted Trent upstairs in your bedroom for. Trent shook his head with a smile feigning annoyance at his friends and brother’s razzing him.

“Night lads!” Trent said, waving his hand over his head refusing to turn around to look back at them. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him for you to lean your head onto his shoulder.

“Wrap before you tap please!” Tyler yelled jokingly or probably seriously while the rest of the boy’s cacophony of laughter echoed in the big room. Trent leaned over to you to whisper in your ear.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ hushly in your ear. You slapped your hand at his chest lightly and jokingly. “Oh I’m sorry, pretty girl, have you suddenly changed your opinion on creating what’s going to be arguably the most perfect baby ever? Or hmm… I don’t know the past two years of unprotected sex? Which one is it, baby?” He started to giggle, poking fun at you.

“Oh shut up, T!” You squealed, breaking out of his embrace and running up the stairs. You ran into your bedroom and had never gotten ready for sleep faster, makeup off, face washed, teeth brushed, hair care done, and well… you decided it would be best to wear a skimpy black Fleur du Mal lace bodysuit you’d been saving and tuck yourself immediately under the covers. Trent made his way to the bathroom after you and by the time he came out you had changed and tucked into bed to be a little surprise for him to ultimately unwrap. When he walked over to the bed he was a little suspicious seeing how smug your face was laying waiting for him. He peeled back the blankets to get in and his jaw dropped.

“Baby… baby… baby… what am I going to do with a girl like you, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten into this bed without getting rock hard. What are you doing to me?” He groaned, shaking his head. He ripped the blankets back more to get a full view of you. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered. He climbed over you and hovered before he started kissing every inch of you, every single inch. He kissed over your whole body. Slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. He left behind little signs of him, shiny spots caused by his warm spit. “You are the most beautiful women in the world, Y/N. I don’t understand how I got so lucky.” You giggled and pulled him up for a big wet messy kiss. He rolled you over on top of him and he wiggled some to sit back against the headboard. You straddled him before he asked you to sit back some. He leaned you back holding onto your waist. “Just let me look at you.” He groaned at the view. You sank down further on him letting him feel your lace covered core over his leg. His hands were all over you, yours all over him. Your lips came crashing together but moved slow and sensually. You nibbled on his plump perfect lips. He moaned into your mouth, while you slipped your tongue in. Heavily breathing in between every kiss. You leaned away for a moment with a big smile. Trent and your eyes still closed, mouths still parted, dying for more, a string of saliva connecting you two but giggles took over you. “Let me keep kissing you, baby.” He begged not wanting to stop.

“I like kissing you, baby but I wanna look at you. Makes me excited seeing you under me.” You giggled in a lighthearted moment giddy and a little buzzed to see his beautiful face beneath you, his perfect lips flushed and swollen. The room had gotten hotter, your core was aching. Your wet pussy was grinding slow on his strong thigh at this point.

“I know, pretty girl and I can feel how excited you are on my leg right now so just let me make you feel good.” He said getting restless as his hand started to slide to reach between your covered folds. You squirmed away a little. Suddenly your body and your mind were not in sync. You wanted to fuck him. There’s no doubt about wanting to fuck him but you were paralyzed for a second feeling self consciousness wash over you about the rise of media attention on you. You shook your head ‘no’ with a guilty but silly grin. He returned a smug smile gesturing to the wet spot of your slick that was now beneath you on him.

“Stop! I can’t help it! Look at you!” You gestured at his body.

“Baby. I fucking think about you, and this…” he then gestured to your body mimicking your movement, “and this pussy probably 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.” He laughed a little.

“T! Hey! That’s mean, I’m cute and funny… and I don’t know have other attributes… other things too...” You actually weren’t offended, you loved to know that he found you that attractive but it was fun to tease.

“Baby, I know. You’re so amazing and so amazing at so many things. You just also happen to be incredibly attractive and very very good in bed so I’m sorry but I’m not not going to think about all of it if I’m the lucky lad that gets to have you in my bed for the rest of my life.” You smiled softly because even though it sounded image based, it really wasn’t. It was really adorable and just made you feel amazing to hear. You felt so special he thought you were beautiful but it plagued you thinking of the headlines that’d been popping up as of late.

“Baby…” you cooed and he hummed eager to have you. “Erm… can I ask you something?” You spoke quietier as Trent’s eyes were glued to your body. “T…” you paused picking his chin up with your hand to look at your face and not your tits. “Do you care what everyone thinks about me?” You sheepishly asked.

“What? What do you mean? I would never care.” He said, his words were fast and rushed. You didn’t feel very good about them. Your idea to be extra sexy tonight had kind of backfired on you. You now felt like nothing like that. You had gotten more self conscious somehow. You sighed and rolled off him.

“Nah, nah, nah, beautiful. Alright, what’s going on here?” I don’t like when you’re upset ever and definitely not if you’re in something like this. Did I do something?” He pulled at the strap of your lingerie with a little pout. Trent hated when your face dropped. When the light and warmth behind your eyes faltered. He preferred to be the one to make everything a little brighter in your life and he was determined to fix it when it faded.

“No, of course not. It’s never you, baby. I just mean…” you sighed. “Just like all the articles about me, my life, my intentions, I don’t know.” You whispered shyly. He pulled you close to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. He giggled and you weren’t sure why so you pulled away some to look up and see his face. Your eyes fixed on the most gorgeous smile in the world.

“Baby, no. I know you, they don’t. Hmm?” He cooed, coming to press a kiss to your lips now. “I love you. I love you and know you by your words and your actions. I love you not because of what someone types up and what someone typed up would never change that, sweet girl.” He spoke softly and he looked at you with more love than you've ever seen in your life. The ways his eyes filled with warmth had your heart faltering. You weren’t sure you knew what air even was anymore until he breathed life back into you with a kiss. You started to giggle giddy that the man whose arms you were in, whose bed you shared, whose home you had made with, whose life you wanted to spend the rest of yours with, loved you.

“Okay.” You managed to get out through your massive beaming smile. “You can go to sleep now” you continued giggling pulling him into the tightest hug you’d ever given someone. Squishing your cheek against his bare skin. You just about squished that boy to death. He grunted under your grip.

“Thank you for your permission but you’re insane if you think I’m letting you go to sleep next to me in this.” He looked down at your perfectly sat boobs pressed up against him. He pulled you in for a big kiss. A messy makeout ensued. You fell asleep a few rounds and orgasms later on Trent’s chest dreaming that maybe this time or sometime soon it would result in having a baby. Trent watched you as your eyes gently closed, your lips in a perfect pout, the lingerie tossed on the floor. You clung to him safe and happy. He adored you just like this.

You woke up the next morning alone in bed. You pulled Trent’s pillow over to you and pouted like a little kid. His scent made you calm but you missed him. You forget he had told you he was doing an early workout today but even when you did remember you still kept your pout missing and wishing he was cuddled up with you this morning. You got your morning started and headed downstairs in a t-shirt of his. You slowly walked to the kitchen, eyes half closed. You walked past the stairs going to the basement where Trent was in the gym. You could hear the vibrations of the speakers; it made you smile imagining him working out. God, he was hot, just even thinking of him had you almost drooling. The kitchen was scattered with cups which bothered you, you knew the boys who stayed up after you had gone to bed had remade a mess you had already cleaned up last night. Moments like this made you think of university sometimes like just a bunch of friends were living together except the thought burst the feeling of nostalgia when they all left you in a mess like right now. At the end of the day this was your home, not some university apartment. Your home with beautiful furniture and now subsequently ubiquitous icky boys. You loved them but ugh… so you cleaned before you started to make a coffee and preemptively the protein shake Trent would come up and want.

“Erm… hi, I’m sorry.” You heard a meek voice round the corner into the kitchen. You practically jumped it scared you despite her being incredibly soft spoken.

“Oh shit!” You laughed as you pressed your hand over your now very fast beating heart. “Sorry, sorry hi! Morning!” You said with a cheery smile looking at one of the girls Marcel had invited over who seemingly had spent the night.

“I’m so sorry!” The quieter of the two girls giggled too. “I don’t mean to bother you but I’m so hungover do you think I could get a water?” she asked shyly. You handed her a water immediately. She seemed so introverted you almost felt bad asking but you couldn’t not get some information out of her initially with the incentive to tease Marcel.

“It’s Gracie, right?” You looked at her standing awkwardly in a shirt of his. She nodded her head with a timid smile. “Did you have a good night?” She kept her voice low and told you she did but something told you that it maybe wasn’t the whole truth. As you said her name and looked at her standing in your kitchen something pinged in your head. Her name, her face, you started to remember a lunch you had with Marcel one time where you think he had mentioned this girl. You asked if she wanted to sit with you in a little area off the kitchen and she said she would so you started to prod her with questions more intrigued by her and not so much the intent of teasing him anymore.

“So how do you know Marce?” You asked sweetly with a smile. She stirred in her seat taking a sip of water first before a familiar Liverpool accent began to accentuate words.

“I grew up with them.” She giggled. “We all went to school together for a little. We were really close and then I guess… drifted, I don’t know.” She shrugged and looked out the window.

“I get it, I feel it’s just like that when you’re close with boys growing up.” You tried to make her feel better but didn’t really know her situation and it felt like there was more to this story. You were praying it stayed connected to Marcel only and didn’t involve Trent. You didn’t think the current headache you had from last night could handle something like that right now.

“Yeah, well once I got tits things kind of shifted so I’m around a lot more now…” you were relieved when she laughed after making the comment. Marcel was really sweet deep down so you were continuing in prayer hoping he didn’t do anything mean to this girl.

“So you guys…” you paused waiting to let her fill in the blank for you.

“Oh well yeah, I mean we have. We do. I don’t know, we’re close friends but..” The thought of Lauren came ringing in your mind and you felt a little guilty but Gracie assured you her relationship with Marcel was a pretty relaxed one so it subsided. “Anyways I came last night because I wanted to see him but he also invited my friend so I figured whatever” she shrugged again. “I just wanted to be with him and if that meant she’d be in the bed too I guess that’s just how my night was going to go.” She giggled some more. For someone who had such a shy demeanor she clearly was down to mess around and you kind of loved it.

“I get it. I don’t blame you.” You held your hands up in innocence and giggled with her before reaching out to squeeze her arm to reassure her.

“It wasn’t pre planned or anything!” She tried to unnecessarily defend herself for the threesome she was explaining she had last night.

“Do you, Gracie, I’m here for it” you couldn’t not laugh. “If you do like him though you should tell him. You know… maybe so it can just be the two of you next time. He really is sweet, probably go better than you’d think” She gave you an ‘I know’ look and you both giggled before being interrupted by the sound of feet running up a staircase.

Trent came up from the gym. He looked as you would expect, absolutely jaw dropping. The sweat still rolling down his chest and abs. His shorts hung low showing a deep v. You sat facing the back garden when he snuck up behind you. He wrapped his arms around you tight pressing his sweaty body to your currently dry one.

“Ew, T!” You squealed as he pressed a fat wet kiss to your cheek. Gracie sat there and smiled at his sweet affection before you peeled a clingy, perspiring Trent off you.

“You alright?” Trent cooed looking at Gracie. You could tell he recognized her but wasn’t totally sure so he didn’t really say much else. She told him she was all good, nodding. He then leaned his head on your shoulder. “Can I get you some breakfast, pretty girl?” You smiled and shook your head ‘no.’ “Can I get you to come take a shower with me maybe then?” You giggled at his follow up as he squeezed your waist.

“Yes to the shower, no to the breakfast, baby but I did already make yours though.” You looked up at him with doe eyes. He smiled mouthing a thank you and walked to the kitchen to go get the protein shake you had made.

“Is he always like that?” Gracie watched Trent’s muscular back round the corner to go get his breakfast.

“Like what?” You giggled watching the same sight completely enamored with the boy.

“That. The whole making breakfast, offering you to go shower with him, the kisses.” She said, “I don’t know, perfect?” You smiled widely thinking of a few things she was missing from her list of what made him so great but you agreed, he was perfect.

“Yeah, T’s always like that, I guess. He just is…” you paused and smiled and watched him walk back into the room and sit next to you. “He’s just T.” You smiled at him before kissing his cheek. Gracie rolled her lips. She was starting to realize that what she had was not what she was looking for. She wanted someone to be just themselves. A version of themselves that was perfect just for her.

You woke up the next day and you couldn’t not think about Gracie and Marcel. It was playing on your mind on repeat trying to put together all the facts as Trent cuddled closer to you. He snuggled on top of you laying across your stomach. He wrapped his arms around your waist nuzzling his face onto your soft skin. Sadly for you, preseason was fast approaching. It was making you sick… as a matter of fact everything was making you feel sick this second. As Trent muffled ‘I love yous’ into your skin you started to feel queasy.

“T… can you like loosen your grip.” You said with a serious tone. He only squeezed tighter thinking you were kidding. “Trent, serious. I feel really sick.” You peeled his arms off you and sat up against the headboard. He sat up with you and looked at you with furrowed brows concerned.

“Baby…” he cooed quiet. You didn’t respond, dropping your head. He just stared at you trying to analyze what was wrong. You were normally so affectionate even if you were sick. Abruptly you sprung from the bed and ran to the bathroom. “Shit!” He yelped as he followed you hearing your body slap to the cold marble floors before you started to throw up. He came to your side, gathering your hair, holding it back, stroking your back up and down your spine slow. “You’re okay, beautiful. It’s okay, you’re okay.” He hushed you softly. You started balling crying as you sat up wiping your mouth leaning against the wall.

“T…” you whined crying. He tried to ask you what was wrong but the tears just kept falling. You couldn’t get any words out and to be fair you had no idea what was wrong.

“Okay, okay. C’mere. It’s gonna be okay.” He pulled you into him. You collapsed in his arms and his embrace as he stroked your head kissing it softly. “Love you so much, gonna be just fine.” He tried to assure you but something felt incredibly off. You laid around the house the rest of the day doing nothing curled in a ball on the couch. Despite his best efforts, not even Trent’s bribes for food, the dogs, shopping, cuddles would get you to move. When it approached day two of you being immobile he had passed a level of worry he was comfortable with. Trent was always protective of you but this had gone too far. “Sweet girl, I’m calling someone, something is not right.” He whispered, rubbing your arm. You shook your head unhappy with the suggestion.

“No, please baby I’m fine. I’m just…” you couldn’t finish the sentence because in fact you didn’t understand what was happening. It wasn't until a random advert flashed across the tv featuring a pregnant mother. All the color just about drained from your face. Trent watched it empty out of your full cheeks. He furrowed his brow with eyes fixed on you and turned to the tv to see what could’ve caused it but the advert had changed by that point. At that moment you stopped fighting and you let him call a doctor. Later that day a doctor made a house call and sat next to you on the couch. You cuddled into Trent scared of a possibility he was unaware you were even thinking of.

“I have to ask… are you currently using any method of contraception?” The words hit Trent like a freight train. You felt him wince. You started to cry.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that. Nothing to be upset over.” Trent whispered to you before explaining your situation to the doctor. He brushed his knuckle over your cheek. Suddenly you felt like you were 15 and having sex was somehow wrong or taboo. You discussed at length with the doctor symptoms and possibilities before they asked to do some blood tests. It wasn’t something you wanted to do but you had to. They took the vials and sent them out with a nurse. The turn around would be a few hours and said they would give you a call. Trent walked the doctor out. The front door closed and you started crying all over again. Trent came back with the dogs jumping on top of you. The affection should’ve made you smile but it didn’t. They really tried their hardest to make you feel better but it wasn’t working.

“Baby…” Trent cooed, almost silent. “I thought you wanted this?” He asked you, reflecting on what the doctor had said and the possibility of being pregnant, completely terrified you’d had a change of heart. You just kept crying as you grabbed his waist holding onto him.

“I do, I do.” You sniffled out. “I’m just scared.” You said between tears. He hushed you before finding something on the tv to watch in an attempt to distract you. You nestled under the blankets and he held you tight as you waited.

“Okay, thank you. Yeah, we’ll be in touch if that happens. Thank you again.” You overheard Trent hang up the phone as he paced in the hallway outside your living room. He walked back in and your stomach dropped. He gave you the type of soft smile you knew wasn’t good. You had shut your eyes in pain trying to think of anything else but at the moment you couldn’t possibly think of anything but the baby you knew wasn’t in your stomach.

“They said it was just premenstrual symptoms, an effect you’re having coming off birth control. It’s going to be okay, baby.” His tone just about shattered your heart. You could feel his sadness and disappointment fill the room. You curled further under the blankets and tried to cover your face with them to muffle the gasps. Your eyes started to well. You cried uncontrollably. If you weren’t so lost in your emotions you’d probably have noticed that Trent had looked pretty close to tears but he would’ve never cried in front of you right now, not now, not like this. Trent jogged over to the couch and swiftly grabbed you holding you tight to him. He hushed you trying to wipe your tears at the pace at which they were falling. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. Shhhh. It’s okay. I love you.” He whispered as your body shook. You felt like you couldn’t swallow, like you couldn’t breathe, like you couldn’t still your heart as it thumped against your chest. It felt like the whole room was collapsing and yet he held you so calmly and securely.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” You quivered out squeezing your eyes tighter. You felt like you disappointed him, like you had somehow messed up. Your whole body felt tired and deadened. You two hadn’t even been actively doing much of anything to have the baby yet but this felt like someone had stabbed you in the heart hearing that you weren’t pregnant. “I don’t know why I got my hopes up.” You whispered into his shirt. You felt the soft cotton of it dampen from your tears. His warm hands rubbing you stung. You couldn’t look at him. You failed him. You thought he’d hate you. It was a sudden yet slow burn that you in fact were not on your way to starting a family. For some reason all you could think of was just how perfect you had described and talked about Trent with Gracie and yet here you were being anything but that to him. He was absolutely everything and you couldn’t do this thing for him.

“We’re gonna be fine, pretty girl.” He gave you the same soft broken smile. It was so different from his normal full, toothy, childish grin it almost made you sick. Days began to blur by and you mostly kept to yourself. You didn’t feel like you could tell anyone; not your mum, Tyler, not Lauren, Marcel, your sister, Dianne. In fact, Dianne had called you a few times but you just let them all run to voicemail. You couldn’t face her. Trent tried to cover for you and said you hadn’t been feeling well but Dianne knew you both better than that. Nothing really had happened but you wanted this baby so bad. The dramatic drop from possible to nothing was so jarring.

“So tomorrow… we go again I guess, yeah?” You spoke softly looking into the mirror putting on a moisturizer watching Trent dry off with a towel.

“Yeah, yeah… we go again. It’ll be good but hard. Will miss you so much sweetheart.” Wrapping the towel around his waist. He cooed walking up behind you, his strong arms came around your frame. He squished your body tightly eliciting a giggle from you but your face fell more into a pout just thinking of him not being around for almost two weeks. “Sure you don’t want to stay with my mum?” He asked with a kiss to your temple.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. Don’t want to put her out like that.” You shyly admitted but really you just didn’t want her to catch you crying over a baby you never had and missing your boyfriend who was only gone for his preseason. Your emotions felt so misaligned and so out of control since the doctor's visit.

“Will go by quick.” He lied and nodded before kissing you again. “Got you a little something you know?” He started talking walking out of the ensuite so you followed him back into the room and then into your wardrobe. “Stay there!” His laugh echoed in the room as he gestured for you not to come any closer to him as he rustled around looking for something. “Close your eyes, baby.”

“T…” you whined not particularly in the mood to play any games.

“C’mon. For me please. Close them.” And so you did. You heard him come walk back over to you. “Gimme your hand.” And so you did then feeling his bigger soft hand hold yours and a cold metal drape over your wrist. You squinted your eyes open some. “No peeking! You little cheat.” You smiled with a pout opening your eyes fully now. You looked down and Trent was clasping a dainty diamond gold tennis bracelet onto your wrist. You mouthed a thank you before he pulled you into a tight hug. “So you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” He giggled.

“You’re dumb…” you giggled “not in a million years.” Leaning up to kiss his lips.

You laid in bed that night unable to go to sleep feeling his chest rise and fall under your cheek. You watched the light from outside dance and reflect off your new bracelet that rested over him in silence as your mind raced.

“I got you, baby.” Trent whispered into your hair.

“You’re awake?” You whispered back into the quiet room before placing light kisses all over his bare skin. He hummed in assurance. He rubbed his hands over you and you purred back. Even though you were dreading his departure tomorrow, right now you felt more comfortable than you had in days. His hands slowly ran down your back and cupped your ass.

“It’ll happen.” He muttered in a low voice. You nodded and picked your head up resting your chin on him, your hand stretched out to play with his perfectly plump lips. You pulled at his bottom one before swiping your thumb over it.

“You’re so gorgeous, pretty boy.” You cooed back with a soft smile trying to change the subject, “These are absolutely heavenly.” You said pulling once more on his lip.

“Oh yeah? Good use too.” He cheekily said before he flipped you over and was on top of you. You gasped as he disappeared beneath the covers to in fact put his perfect pout to very good use. It wouldn’t result in a baby by any means but it sure as hell would feel good. An hour and a few orgasms later you were laying back on top of him dragging your foot slowly up his toned leg. The feeling of his soft skin under you was sublime. The sound of his quiet breathes synced with yours as he started to doze off. His smell comforting you into a sleepy haze. And when your eyes fluttered open the next morning suddenly the bed was empty and he was gone leaving you with a new braclet and no baby.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 28 xx

105 notes · View notes