#how many more gif sets will i make of paris

[rwrbmovie]

That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I've just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Icy III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: He watches your match

He sits up in the box with Laporta, stretched out on the foldout chair like it's his personal throne.

He's wearing a new suit, freshly ironed and tailored to fit his body perfectly. His hair has been cut and styled to give that almost effortless look about him.

"Trust fund, I reckon," Patri says from your warm up circle," That guy that's up there with Laporta."

"No way," Pina disagrees," That's new money, not old. Probably a hedge fun manager."

"Or some kind of oil and gas giant," Mapi laughs.

"None," You say," Real estate at first then tech and then big pharma over in the states."

"What made you guess that?" Mapi asks and you stubbornly kick the ball away.

"I didn't. Laporta's not going to get money out of him anyway. The wife is the one that invests in sports but only ones she gets good profits out of. Two NFL teams, a Formula One team. She owns a tennis stadium in Paris. Big investor in the Olympics."

"Oh come on," Patri complains," There's no way you just know that off the top of your head."

"It doesn't matter. If Laporta wants money he should talk to the wife."

You can feel his gaze on you throughout the match.

It's a team at the bottom of the table and you're so technical that they can't get close but you can still feel the weight of his stare on you at all times.

'You carry the weight of our family'.

He's told you that many times.

'If you cannot exceed expectations then we have no use for you'.

He's told you that too, something you remember as you cross the ball into Pina, who taps it in easily.

You celebrate together, hugging and you feel Ingrid's familiar presence behind you as she gives you her customary kiss on the head.

You look up at him in the crowd, just out of reflex but you can't see much.

He's still splayed out like he's a king on a throne, looking down at you like you're a peasant in the street, fighting with someone else for just a scrap of bread.

That's his idea of entertainment, like holding up a magnifying glass towards an ant hill in the middle of a sunny day.

You feel small under his gaze, dipping your head in submission as you walk back into your position.

You assist in the next three goals.

Alexia.

Aitana.

Even Keira.

You're good at that. You've perfected the art of assisting.

Mapi's even joked before that you're going for the record of assists from one person this season.

Alexia says she's going to make you be more selfish and shoot more but you don't think you really need to do that, not when Caro can do it instead of you.

This is one of the rare matches where Caro's being rotated so gets no minutes. You fill her place though, like you always do, setting up goals and carrying the ball down the wing.

Barcelona win, of course, and you drift back to Ingrid and Mapi like you normally do.

Mapi grins at you, arm thrown over your shoulder and a frown on her face as you go rigid under her.

Laporta is on the pitch with him, stuttering over his words and hurrying to keep up.

He stops in front of you.

"Y/n."

Your head drops automatically, thoroughly chastised as you step out from under Mapi's arms.

His hand clamps down on your shoulder and you can tell how this is going to go before he even opens his mouth.

"Of course we're very proud of her," His honeyed tone tells Laporta," We've wanted nothing but the best for her."

For them, you correct in your head.

"She's always had such a passion for football. We love watching her play."

He's never seen you play in his life.

"We-We're very happy to have her here!" Laporta tells him," She's a real talent. You're produced quite the footballer."

He laughs, waving away the compliments as his hand feels like a shackle around you. "You're too kind. Sports has never quite been my thing. I'll have to talk to the wife about what we were talking about, I'm sure you'll understand."

"Of course! Of course! Take all the time you need!"

He will. You know he will.

He'll discuss with her and they'll write up a contract if it's really something they're interested, about what they pay in and what they get out of it.

She's always been better at the sports side of it, despite her background in real estate. She knows how to talk people around in circles. How to get through the little boy's club that every sport has. She'll get what she wants if Barcelona is even something she's interested in.

You hope it isn't.

"I'll leave you alone with your daughter," Laporta says and you want to call after him.

You want to tell him not to leave with your father.

Barcelona was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be safe here.

You can't control when they summon you in Norway but if you're in Barcelona, they're not supposed to be able to get to you. You're not meant to be subject to their whims in Barcelona.

You want to go home. You want to go home with Mapi and Ingrid and curl up in your bed with Toast and not move for a week.

His casual hand on your shoulder grows heavy in an instant, nails digging in to your skin through your shirt and you have to keep the smile on your face to keep up appearances for the cameras you know are on you.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you," If you ever blindside me like this again then I promise you won't like what happens next."

"Sorry, Father," You say back.

"You better be. I didn't like sitting up there with potential business partners to see my own daughter down there like a football hooligan."

"Sorry."

"I'm better than that and I raised you to be better than that too."

You resist the urge to tell him that he didn't raise you at all.

Your wrist twinges, the phantom injury flaring up like it always did when you're nervous.

You throat bobs, already closing up as you fight back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologies mean nothing." His voice is harsh in your ear and you find a point ahead of you to stare at so you don't cry.

If there's something that he hates more than apologies, it's tears so you stubbornly don't let even one fall.

"Who's this, y/n?" Ingrid asks, clearing her throat and you flick your eyes to her.

"My-"

Your father says his name, sticking his hand out and he's back to playing the role of proud father. "And you are?"

"Ingrid Engen. I play with y/n on the Norwegian team too."

"Ah! Yes. I think she's mentioned you before!" He's lying.

He didn't even know you played on the national team.

"And I'm Mapi. She lives with me and Ingrid."

"I can't thank you enough," Your father says," She can be quite a handful sometimes." He laughs but no one laughs with him.

"I think she's delightful," Ingrid says," Very helpful. Very studious. She's the best in her class."

The smile on his face is real now, like it always is when he hears about your academics.

He started in real estate and then moved to investing in technology and pharmaceuticals. He and your mother are scarily intelligent and it might be the only thing they passed onto you.

"We expect nothing less of her," He says," I'm sure everyone at the party will be glad to hear it."

Your breath stutters in your chest. "The party?"

"Yes! The party! I must have forgotten to tell you! We're having a little get together with a few potential business partners. We'll have to get you a dress."

"I don't need to go."

"Don't be silly!" His hand tightens on your shoulder and you know that this isn't a discussion. "There's some people I should introduce you too."

Your head drops again, the fight leaving your body.

"Do you want us to go?" Ingrid asks, ever polite though you feel like without her and Mapi there you won't survive. "So you two can have dinner?"

Your father is laughing again, finally releasing you and you take several quick steps to duck behind Mapi.

"I've got a flight to catch. Meetings to get to. Far more important things."

He can't see you anymore, not with your head bowed and pressed against Mapi's back and you finally let the tears fall.

Ingrid watches your father leave, down the tunnel and escorted to the player's exit by the staff that seem to be falling over themselves to make him happy.

"Y/n," She says, coaxing you out from your hiding spot," Oh, sweetheart...Are you okay?"

You look at her, bottom lip trembling as the tears run down your cheeks.

"Ingrid," You say, sounding small and wounded like an animal," I want to go home."

Ingrid nods as Mapi tucks you under her arm.

"Let's go home."

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 1✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language, "cheating", Jensen being a dick

Word Count: 5703

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You groaned annoyed, mumbling about how you so don’t wanna go there. Today was the premiere of The Boys Season 5 in Paris and while you were so excited for it a few weeks ago, it changed when your co-star Jensen Ackles was also announced to be there. Ever since you got the role as a love interest of Soldier Boy and attended the set for the first time, he had been giving you a hard time.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to muster up the enthusiasm you once had for the event. The glittering gown and perfectly styled hair felt like a costume rather than a celebration. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your clutch and headed out the door, knowing there was no way you could avoid the premiere.

As you arrived at the venue, the flashing cameras and cheering fans were overwhelming. You plastered on your best smile and made your way down the red carpet, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. Just as you expected, there he was—Jensen Ackles, looking annoyingly handsome in his tailored suit, chatting effortlessly with the press.

You tried to steer clear of him, but as you approached the interview area, you were ushered to stand next to him. His smile widened when he saw you, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you uneasy.

“Y/N, great to see you”, he said smoothly, his voice dripping with charm.

“Jensen”, you replied curtly, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious.

The interviewer asked a few generic questions about the season, and you answered politely, keeping your responses as professional as possible. Jensen, on the other hand, seemed to relish in making subtle jabs, his teasing comments slipping through his charming facade.

After the interview, you tried to escape into the crowd, but Jensen followed, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

“Come on, Y/N, lighten up a bit”, he grinned.

“Lighten up? Yeah, fuck off”, you snapped.

You knew you didn’t have to see him for over six months after that premiere, so you couldn’t hold back your dislike anymore. But then there was the next press worker, wanting to have an interview with the two of you.

“Excuse me, Y/N, Jensen, can we get a quick interview?”, the journalist asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

You sighed inwardly, forcing a smile. “Of course”.

Jensen stepped closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious. “Yeah, let’s do it”.

The journalist began with a few standard questions about the upcoming season, and you answered them with practiced ease, focusing on the storylines and your character’s development. Jensen, to his credit, kept his comments professional and respectful, avoiding any of his usual teasing.

Then, the journalist asked, “So, how has it been working together, especially considering the intense dynamic between your characters this season?”.

You glanced at Jensen, who met your gaze steadily. “It’s been… challenging”, you admitted, choosing your words carefully. “But I think those challenges have helped us bring more authenticity to our roles”.

Jensen nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. It’s definitely been a unique experience, and I think it adds a lot of depth to the on-screen relationship”.

The journalist seemed satisfied with the answer and wrapped up the interview with a few more questions before thanking you both.

The evening wore on, and after the premiere, you joined your colleagues at a nearby bar to unwind. The atmosphere was lively, with everyone celebrating the successful event. You were starting to relax and enjoy yourself when, to your disappointment, Jensen walked in. He greeted everyone warmly and, despite your best efforts to ignore him, his gaze seemed to linger on you.

You tried to focus on your conversation with another co-star, laughing at a shared joke, but you could feel Jensen’s eyes on you. It was starting to grate on your nerves. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, ordering another drink. Jensen approached, standing beside you as he waited for his own drink. You could feel the tension in the air as he leaned in slightly closer.

“You and Antony seem awfully close tonight”, he mumbled, his tone laced with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink before responding. “We’re friends, Jensen. Not that it’s any of your business”.

He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid inside. “I wasn’t implying anything. Just an observation”.

“Well, keep your observations to yourself”, you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care anyway?”.

He looked up from his drink, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Maybe I care because I don’t like seeing you getting too close to other guys”.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Oh, please. You don’t get to act possessive now. We’ve barely managed to be civil to each other”.

He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Maybe I like a challenge. Keeps things interesting”.

You arched an eyebrow, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”.

His smile widened, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “Only when I’m around people who make me want to be better”.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “Is that your attempt at a compliment?”.

“Did it work?”, he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, forcing your expression to remain serious. “No, it didn’t work. And clearly, you’ve had too much to drink”.

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him standing at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way back to the group, but you didn’t look back. Joining your colleagues, you tried to immerse yourself in their conversation, but a part of you was still acutely aware of Jensen’s presence across the room.

Antony noticed your return and immediately pulled you into a lively discussion about an upcoming scene, his animated gestures and infectious energy helping to distract you. You laughed and chatted with the group, trying to shake off the lingering effects of your encounter with Jensen.

Every so often, you glanced over at the bar, catching glimpses of Jensen talking to others, his eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. It was irritating how he seemed to occupy your thoughts despite your efforts to ignore him.

As the night wore on, you found yourself loosening up, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. The camaraderie with your colleagues was comforting, and you enjoyed the lighthearted banter and shared stories.

Eventually, you called it a night. After saying your goodbyes to your colleagues, you made your way back to the hotel. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll, and your vision was slightly blurred as you fumbled with your room key.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels and began to change into something more comfortable. You opted for lace panties and a small, snug top, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against your skin. The room spun slightly as you moved, a clear sign that you’d had too much to drink.

Just as you were about to lay down, a knock echoed through the room, startling you. You frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour. Carefully, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole, your breath catching when you saw who it was.

“Jensen”, you muttered, unsure whether to be annoyed or curious.

You opened the door just enough to peer out at him. He looked a little unsteady himself, though his expression was serious.

“What are you doing here?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the alcohol muddling your thoughts.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay”, he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Can I come in for a minute?”.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to send him away, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. With a sigh, you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

Even though he had already seen you wearing less, you pulled on the your matching lace rope, crossing your arms as you looked at him. He was clearly way too drunk too. He watched you with a little smirk, his eyes lingering a bit longer than they should.

“You look pretty hot right now”, he said, his voice low and slightly slurred.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through your cheeks. “You’re drunk, Jensen. And so am I. This isn’t the time for compliments”.

He shrugged, leaning against the wall for support. “Maybe not, but it’s the truth”.

You sighed, feeling the exhaustion from the night catch up with you. “Why did you really come here, Jensen?”.

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious. “I told you, I wanted to make sure you got back okay. And… I guess I just didn’t want the night to end on a bad note”.

You shook your head, trying to make sense of his mixed signals. “You’ve already apologized, Jensen. I get it. But this—” you gestured between the two of you “—this isn’t helping”.

He took a step closer, his eyes softening. “I know. I just—”.

You held up a hand, stopping him. “No, Jensen. We’re both drunk and—”.

Before you could finish, Jensen stepped closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. Your back hit the wall, and before you could react, his lips were on yours. The kiss was urgent, fueled by the alcohol and the tension that had been building between you two for months.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. His hands were warm on your waist, and his lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your head spin even more than the alcohol. Despite everything, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you poured all your mixed emotions into the kiss.

It felt like a dam breaking, all the frustration, anger, and confusing attraction you’d been feeling rushing out at once. But then reality crashed.

“Jensen, we can’t do this”, you said, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck yes we can”, his voice husky with determination. With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his body pressing against yours. His kiss was even more intense this time, filled with a raw, desperate need that matched your own.

You tried to push him away, your mind battling with your emotions, but your body betrayed you. You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body against yours igniting a fire you hadn’t realized you were capable of feeling. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, and you found yourself responding with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair.

For a few moments, nothing else mattered. The room spun around you, but the only thing you were aware of was Jensen—his touch, his scent, the way his lips moved against yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

But then, a sliver of clarity broke through the haze again. You pulled back, panting, your eyes wide as you looked at him. “Jensen, we’re making a mistake. We’re drunk and—”.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Maybe. But right now I don’t care”.

With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, pulling you up onto his hips. You gasped against his mouth, feeling the hard press of his erection through your thin panties, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively, the friction and heat between you both intensifying with every passing second. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm and demanding, while his lips and tongue explored yours with a hunger that seemed to consume you both.

Jensen moved you to the bed, lowering you onto the soft mattress without breaking the kiss. You could feel the full weight of his body pressing down on you, the urgency in his movements mirroring your own. Despite everything, you found yourself craving his touch, needing more of the connection that had been denied for so long.

His hands slipped under your top, sliding up your sides and making you shiver at the sensation. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of lust and something else you couldn’t quite define. “Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His lips pressed against your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “You’re such a pain in the ass”, he mumbled against your neck, his breath hot and sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders. “And you’re an insufferable dick”, you shot back, your voice breathless and tinged with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

Jensen chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, making you gasp. “Guess that makes us even”, he murmured, his lips moving lower, grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, your body arching into his touch. Despite the alcohol and the confusion, you couldn’t deny the raw, primal attraction between you. It was maddening, infuriating, and utterly intoxicating.

His hands roamed your body with a sense of urgency, his touch igniting a fire wherever it landed. As his lips continued their exploration of your neck and collarbone, you couldn’t help but respond to him, your body moving instinctively to meet his.

Every kiss, every touch, was a battle, each of you pushing and pulling, testing the boundaries. It was a clash of wills as much as it was an act of passion, both of you trying to dominate and submit all at once.

Jensen’s hands slid under your top, pushing it up and over your head, discarding it carelessly to the side. His eyes raked over your body, dark with desire.

His lips crashed against yours again, and you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Jensen groaned, the sound low and guttural. “You know, you drove me crazy on set, grinding on my dick during that scene. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”. His voice was a mix of accusation and desire, the memory clearly affecting him as much as it had affected you.

You let out a breathless laugh, your nails digging into his back. “Oh, please. You think I did that on purpose? You were the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a smirk. “Is that so? You really think I’m the one who couldn’t keep my hands to myself?”. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer against him, making you gasp at the sensation.

“Yeah”, you managed to breathe out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You were all over me”.

He chuckled darkly, his lips grazing your ear. “Maybe because you were practically begging for it. The way you looked at me, the way you moved… You wanted me just as much”.

You hissed, “I’m just a fucking amazing actress”.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “That all of this is just an act?”.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, if that’s the case, you deserve an award for how real you make it seem”.

You shivered, torn between anger and undeniable attraction. “You’re so full of yourself, Jensen”, you shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“And you”, he countered, his voice low and rough, “are full of contradictions. You say one thing, but your body tells me another”.

You gasped as his lips found your neck again, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, a moan escaped your lips, betraying your true feelings.

“See?”, he whispered against your skin, his tone triumphant. “Your body can’t lie”.

You clenched your fists, struggling to suppress the overwhelming sensations he was eliciting. “This doesn’t mean anything”, you insisted, even as your body responded eagerly to his touch.

Jensen pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth”.

With that, he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His hand roamed over your body, fingertips grazing your skin with a touch that was both tender and demanding.

As his lips moved to your jawline, planting soft kisses that trailed down to your neck, you felt his hand slip lower, teasing the edge of your panties. Each touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried to resist.

Jensen’s breath was hot against your skin as his fingers traced a path along the waistband of your panties, his touch light and teasing. He paused, lifting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Tell me to stop”, he whispered, his voice low and rough. “If you really don’t want this, tell me to stop”.

Your breath hitched, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But your body was already making the decision for you, responding to his touch with a need that you couldn’t deny.

Jensen’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. His hand was warm and confident, exploring you with a skill that left you breathless. He found your most sensitive spot, his fingers moving with a rhythm that made your hips buck involuntarily.

“You’re so wet”, he murmured against your neck, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “Is this what you don’t want?”.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders as his touch sent waves of pleasure through you. “Jensen”, you gasped, unable to form a coherent response as his fingers continued their relentless assault.

He smiled against your skin, his movements becoming more deliberate, each stroke designed to drive you closer to the edge. “That’s what I thought”.

With that, he dipped not one but two of his thick fingers inside you, their size enough to stretch you, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of awe and satisfaction crossing his features.

“Shit, you’re tight”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. His fingers moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the sensation, but soon they began to thrust deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You bit your lip, your eyes squeezing shut as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed you. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice breathless and needy, your body arching into his touch.

Jensen smirked, his breath hot against your ear as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. “Jensen what?”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response, as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Desperate for more, you tugged impatiently on his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“Jensen, please”, you managed to gasp, your need evident in your voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your body. “That’s better”, he said, his tone both commanding and tender. “Tell me what you want, Y/N”.

Your fingers finally succeeded in undoing the buttons, and you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted muscles beneath. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his body.

“I want you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I need you”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with lust, and he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his fingers still working their magic inside you. The intensity of his touch, combined with the heat of his kiss, was almost too much to bear.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful”, he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “And you’re mine tonight”.

With that, he withdrew his fingers, eliciting a whimper of protest from you. But before you could say anything, he was pulling down his pants, his movements hurried and eager. You watched, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him, his erection hard and ready.

Jensen's gaze was intense as he ordered, "Get those panties off, now". His voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your hands moved quickly, discarding the remaining fabric that clung to your body. Once you were completely bare, Jensen climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

Without hesitation or warning, Jensen guided himself inside you, thrusting forward with one hard, deliberate motion. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your nails digging hard into his back, marking his skin with the intensity of your reaction.

Jensen groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through your chest as he buried his face in your neck for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation. Without pausing, he moved his mouth to your breast, capturing your nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, quieting his own groans as he reveled in how good you felt around him.

The combination of his thrusts and the stimulation from his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your hips meeting his rhythm eagerly.

“Jensen”, you gasped, the intensity of the sensations almost too much to bear. “Please, don’t stop”.

Jensen smirked against your skin, his confidence evident in the way he moved. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me how good it feels, Y/N”.

“Feels so good”, you gasped, your voice breathless with need.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin as he continued his relentless rhythm, each movement calculated to drive you wild. “That’s right”, he whispered, his mouth moving back to your breast, sucking and nibbling on your nipple. “I want to hear you beg for it”.

Your nails dug deeper into his back, your hips bucking against his in desperate need. “Please, Jensen”, you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I need more”.

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. “More? You want more?”, he taunted, his thrusts becoming slower, more deliberate, dragging out the pleasure.

“Yes”, you cried out, your body arching into his, craving the intensity he was withholding. “Please, Jensen, don’t tease me”.

His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him. “You look so beautiful when you’re desperate”, he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

You hissed, “Fuck you”, your voice edged with both frustration and desperation. Jensen’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Oh, I plan to”, he murmured. He rolled his hips slowly, deliberately, making sure each movement was a tantalizing tease. The slow, torturous rhythm sent you spiraling, each measured thrust driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body ached for more, every nerve ending on fire with need. You tried to push your hips up to meet his, but his hands held you firmly in place, dictating the pace with a dominance that made your pulse race.

Eventually, your nerves wearing thin, you decided you had enough of his teasing. With a burst of determination, you pushed him roughly onto the bed, his dick slipping out of you as he landed on his back. Before he could react, you straddled his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You grabbed his erection, positioning it at your entrance, and then sank down onto him with a loud gasp, the sensation of fullness making you shudder.

Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of delight and admiration flashing across his face. He let out a low, appreciative groan, his hands instinctively gripping your hips to steady you.

“Taking control, are we?”, he teased. “I think I like it when you’re on top”.

You ignored his comment, focusing instead on the feeling of him inside you. You began to move, rocking your hips back and forth, finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The power of being in control, of setting the pace, was intoxicating.

Jensen’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal. “You look so fucking sexy”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “I could watch you ride me all night”.

You quickened your pace, your movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. “Then stop talking and enjoy the ride”, you shot back, your voice breathless with the effort and pleasure.

He chuckled, his eyes dark with lust. “Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright. But are you?”. He thrust his hips upward, meeting your movements with a force that made you gasp.

You threw your head back, your hands splayed on his chest for balance. “Fuck", you moaned, the pleasure building with each thrust, the friction and heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Jensen’s hands tightened on your hips, his smirk widening as he felt your body responding to him. “You sound so desperate”, he murmured, his voice a low growl.

"Shut up”, you moaned, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and pleasure. Finally, you shifted your hips just right, the angle hitting your sweet spot perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jensen started to say something, his smirk evident even through his heavy breaths, but you quickly placed a palm over his mouth to silence him. His eyes widened in surprise, but the teasing glint in them remained. He groaned against your hand, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal.

With one hand still over his mouth, you used your other hand to steady yourself on his chest, increasing your pace as you rode him with a newfound intensity. Each movement sent shockwaves through your body, the pleasure building rapidly as you neared your climax.

Jensen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to control his own responses. He thrust his hips upward to meet your movements, the combined effort driving you both closer to the edge.

You looked down at him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the intensity of the moment written all over his face. Despite your best efforts to silence him, you could still feel his muffled groans against your palm, each sound sending a thrill through you.

“I’m so close”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

His eyes locked onto yours, the connection between you almost palpable. He removed your hand from his mouth, capturing it in his own and pressing a kiss to your palm before whispering, “Come for me, Y/N. I want to feel you”.

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of your movements, pushed you over the edge. The orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it as you cried out his name. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Jensen followed moments later, his release powerful and all-consuming. He groaned your name, his body shuddering beneath you as he found his own climax.

For a moment, you both remained there, tangled together, your bodies still shaking from the aftershocks of your passion. Slowly, Jensen pulled you down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you both caught your breath. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath your ear.

But as the euphoria began to fade, the reality of the situation set in. You rolled off him, lying on your back next to him, the cool air hitting your sweat-slicked skin. You turned your head to look at him, the lingering tension between you two palpable.

“Don’t think this changes anything”, you said, your voice still breathless but firm.

Jensen turned his head to meet your gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it”, he replied, his tone laced with mockery.

You scoffed, pushing yourself up and grabbing a nearby blanket to cover yourself.

Jensen stood up, his drunken haze clearing as he began to get dressed. You pulled on your top, trying to ignore the lingering tension between you. As he picked up his dress shirt, he found your panties on the floor. With a teasing smirk, he held them up.

“Maybe I should keep these as a reminder of how nice you can be with a dick deep down inside you”, he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

You rolled your eyes, snatching your panties from his hand. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your wife finding these?”, you retorted, your tone laced with annoyance.

Jensen chuckled, an unsettling nonchalance in his eyes. “She knows how things are”, he replied, his voice cold as he zipped up his pants and closed his belt. “We have an understanding”.

You felt a pang of something—disgust, perhaps, or maybe just a deeper disappointment. “An understanding”, you echoed, your voice flat. “Must be nice”.

He shrugged, slipping his arms into his dress shirt. “It’s practical”, he said, buttoning up. “We both know the score”.

As you stood up to clean yourself, feeling the residual heat and stickiness where Jensen had come inside you, you felt his hand grab your wrist. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you flush against his chest.

His eyes bore into yours, the intensity almost overwhelming. “You need to remember how this feels”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I want you to keep this in mind, every time you look at me”.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he silenced you with a deep, possessive kiss. His lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if trying to imprint the memory of this moment onto your very soul. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss.

You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying your resolve once again as you melted into him. The kiss was fierce and demanding, a tangible reminder of the intensity between you. His tongue explored your mouth, coaxing soft moans from you, making your head spin with the sheer force of his passion.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t forget this, Sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “No matter what happens, remember how you feel right now”.

With that, Jensen left your hotel room, the door clicking softly behind him. You stood there for a moment, heart pounding, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of anger, confusion, and an undeniable pull toward him that left you reeling.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of the intense encounter, and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself. The warm water helped to soothe your frazzled nerves, but it couldn't wash away the lingering sensation of Jensen's touch.

Just as you were drying off, your phone buzzed on the counter. You glanced at the screen and saw a message from Antony: "Hey, are you still awake? Should I come over?".

You bit your lip, a pang of guilt twisting in your gut. You had been meeting Antony outside of set for a few weeks now. Although neither of you had put a label on whatever was happening between you, it felt like you had cheated on him by sleeping with Jensen. The thought made your chest tighten with regret.

Ignoring the message for a moment, you sat down on the edge of the bathtub, taking a deep breath. You needed to figure out what you were going to do. The emotions from your encounter with Jensen were still raw, and you couldn't ignore the fact that you felt something for Antony, too.

After a few moments of contemplation, you picked up your phone and typed out a response: "Sorry, Antony. I'm really tired and just need some rest tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?".

You hit send and set the phone down, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. You knew you needed to have an honest conversation with him, but tonight wasn't the night for it. Your emotions were too tangled, and you needed time to sort them out.

As you crawled into bed, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind. Jensen's touch, his words, the undeniable connection between you—it all felt like a storm you couldn't escape. But there was also Antony, steady and kind, someone you had started to develop feelings for.

You sighed, closing your eyes and willing sleep to come.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 2

-

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2

[multific]

Meant To Be

Massimo x Reader

Summary: Massimo plans the perfect proposal. But the universe has other ideas.

Massimo Torricelli didn’t believe in fate.

Not until the day he decided to propose and the world turned against him.

The plan had been meticulous.

Sunset on the beach. A quiet stretch of golden sand, a blanket laid with your favourite wine, fairy lights strung across tall driftwood poles. The ring, hidden inside a sea-shell box. He'd even arranged for soft Italian music to play from a discreet speaker.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

The day arrived with thunderclouds that rolled in like an omen. The beach flooded before sunset, the tides higher than usual, and the wind tore down every delicate strand of lights his men tried to string. The wine bottle shattered on the rocks. The speaker drowned in seawater.

And when he stepped out of the car to survey the damage, a gust of wind flipped the entire picnic table onto its side and soaked him in saltwater spray.

He stood there, drenched and fuming, muttering words that would terrify most people.

Plan B.

Dinner. Indoors. Romantic and safe.

He booked your favourite restaurant, the one where he’d first kissed you across candlelight. He pulled strings to close the place for the night, set a pianist in the corner, and arranged for your name to be written in chocolate on the dessert plate.

But hours before your reservation, a kitchen fire broke out. The flames took half the dining room and all of Massimo’s sanity.

He arrived to the scene in a black coat, staring at the smouldering sign with hollow eyes.

“Sir, I’m afraid-” the maître d’ began.

“I can see what the fuck you’re afraid of,” he growled, turning on his heel.

Plan C.

Travel. Escape. Anywhere else. He would propose in Paris. Or Venice. Or Santorini, he didn’t care.

He ordered the jet to be fuelled and waiting.

But of course, the moment he reached the private airstrip, his pilot met him at the hangar door with an apologetic look.

“Engine issues. No safe take-off tonight.”

Massimo just stood there for a moment. Silent. Then slowly turned and walked back to the car, got in, shut the door, and let his forehead rest against the steering wheel.

“Dio mio…” he whispered, exhausted. “What more?”

---

When he stepped through the front door, it was dark and quiet.

Rain pattered softly against the windows.

You were curled up on the couch in a jumper that was far too big with a blanket over your legs and a film paused on the screen. You looked up and smiled gently.

“Hey,” you said. “Rough day?”

He stared at you for a long moment.

Wet coat still clinging to his shoulders. Jaw tense.

Then, without a word, he crossed the room and sat beside you. He took a deep breath, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I tried,” he said, voice low. “I tried to make it perfect. The beach, the lights, the wine it was all ruined by a storm. Then I booked the restaurant you love, and it fucking caught fire. Then I tried to fly us to Paris but the jet-the jet wouldn’t even start.”

You reached for his hand. Trying to help him but you didn't know just how, yet.

“Massimo…”

“I had this speech,” he said, looking at you now. “Rehearsed it. God knows how many times. I planned every detail. Because you deserve that. You deserve everything.”

He shifted, pulling something from his pocket, a small black velvet box, now damp from the rain.

“But I don’t have anything else. No music. No candles. Just this.”

He opened the box.

And the ring fell out.

You both froze as it bounced off the coffee table, hit the floor, and rolled, impossibly fast, directly under the couch.

Massimo’s eyes widened in horror. “For fuck's sake.” He dropped to his knees, reaching blindly beneath the furniture. “No, no, no-”

You couldn’t help it.

You laughed, breathless, loving, and teary-eyed all at once.

He turned to you, hands empty, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I can’t even do this right.”

“You’re here,” you whispered, sliding down beside him. “That’s enough.”

You reached under the couch, found the ring with ease, and sat back on your heels. You held it between your fingers, the diamond catching the light, now flawed by dust, a little rainwater, and more love than you could hold in your chest.

“Do you want me to…?” you asked softly, lifting it toward him.

But Massimo was already watching you like you held the moon.

“No, I'm afraid to touch it at this point,” he said. “You do it.”

You smiled, slipped the ring onto your finger yourself, and leaned forward to kiss him.

“Yes,” you murmured against his lips. “A thousand times yes.”

No plane, no restaurant, no beach.

Just you, him, and a love that survived everything, even fate.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[thespicyscribbler]

This Is Me Trying (Part Two)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: M (18+)

You threw your head to the hard surface of the desk, feeling hopeless. Two days after the mission, the rest of your team was being held in a highly secure Hydra facility. You couldn’t just blindly go in, but now your cover had been compromised, and you had no resources. You were stuck with the one person you had little to no experience working with. As soon as it came to realization, they were taken. Bucky led you out of the operation against your will. You felt guilty for leaving them behind, but you knew it was smarter to come up with a plan first; you couldn't just hand it to Hydra. But part of you just wanted to blaze in and get your team back.

“Nice tactic.”

You turned to see Bucky in the doorway, his arms crossed. You rolled your eyes, trying your best to bite your tongue. You knew that fighting wouldn’t help the mess you’re in, and he was all you had as a partner.

“I say we just…go in. Just-…bring big guns.” You sighed heavily, pushing yourself back up.

“You and I both know that won’t work. They’ve got guys lined up all around that place. We have no backup, do you want to get killed?” He walked into the room without your permission.

You groaned out in frustration at his remarks. He sat across from you, pulling the map away from your vision. He knitted his brow and began to mark all across it with a pen.

“What the hell are you doing?” You looked at him as he wrote all across the paper.

“Well….maybe if we go through here, we can take the majority of them out. Just…hope we get them all.” Bucky said quietly.

“Like hell you are.” A woman spoke behind you.

You turned to see none other than Agent Maria Hill standing in the room. Bucky’s eyes looked her up and down, causing you to glare at him in disgust. Was he checking her out?

“I got in contact with Fury, mainly because if all of the Avengers are being held captive, it's a bit of a problem.” She sighed, walking to you.

“Uh…you think?” You quipped.

“They’re going to be moving locations anyway, unfortunately. The flight leaves in about two hours. Cap and the rest of them will be getting on that plane as well.” She crossed her arms, looking at you.

“How the hell did we not know this? Steve said nothing about relocation.” Bucky sounded annoyed.

“None of us knew. But now we do, and they’re planning to make a trade-off. The Avengers' imminent death in exchange for highly illegal weaponry.” Hill huffed out, setting down a pile of files.

“Where are they going for this trade-off?” You looked through the papers to find any other surprising information.

“Paris.” She sighed, pulling out the location file.

“How are we going to get them back? We have no resources,” you exasperated, feeling hopelessness wash over you again.

“You’re going to lead them in, agree to hand over the drive, and we’ll handle the rest. Fury set up a meeting already at the Raffles Hotel. You leave in about an hour.” She raised a brow, waiting for our reaction.

“An hour, how the hell are we going to get ready for something like that?” Bucky’s eyes grew wide.

“Everything is taken care of. Just….get our heroes back.” Hill pursed her lips, then she was gone.

You looked to Bucky in astonishment. This one-day mission was about to turn into something much more.

The private jet was fully stocked with everything you could possibly need, from your favorite gun to your favorite alcoholic beverage. You kept yourself occupied during the flight, not exchanging many words with Bucky. It was an odd sense of being civil towards each other. You would look his direction ever so often, and notice random things. You realized that he hadn’t shaved in a while, leaving his jaw stubble-filled. You noticed how he would tuck his hair behind his ears ever so often, as if it was a nervous tick. Even sometimes you could hear the machinery of his left arm hum. When he was quiet, he wasn’t all that bad, you could actually tolerate him. Feeling brave after a few drinks, you made your way next to his seat.

“Worried about them?” You quietly looked at his features.

“I used to worry about Steve, the kid doesn’t know how to walk away from a fight. But he’s definitely been able to take care of himself.” Bucky half-smiled at you, looking across your features as well.

You noticed his eyes now, trying not to linger too long. They were crystal blue, and they looked nothing like the rest of him. They were almost genuine, soft, and caring. The rest of his demeanor was tough, large, and unbreakable. The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you broke the gaze. You looked out the window, and you could still feel his eyes on you. You couldn’t believe this was all happening, on your way to Paris with Bucky Barnes, the man you hated, to save your friends.

About an hour after you landed, you were escorted to your room by mysterious people, clearly they worked for Fury. You walked into the room, slightly astonished at the large size. It was beyond beautiful. If you were here as someone else, you could almost enjoy it. But what filled the suite was nothing but set-up technology and weaponry.

“It's about time.” Fury approached the both of you, a quizzical look on his face.

“Where are they?” You got right to the point.

“Slow your roll, Y/N.” Fury held his hands up, “They’re here. In the Hotel. The Gala tonight is the meet-up. You two are taking the unexpected route. They’re on this bottom floor, underneath all this here. We’ve granted access to the air vents for the two of you to extract the team; we’ll handle the rest.”

You watched on as Fury explained the elaborate plan, both you and Bucky would go below the hotel level to where the team was held, and take out anyone in our way. Fury and his team will meet with the Hydra operatives as a diversion. You watched as Bucky took in all of the information, his arms folded, and he looked bigger than you had noticed before.

“Got it?” Fury looked to you, “By the way…I aint taking your bullshit. My agents work together, Im not going to have you fighting like damn five year olds.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded to him.

“Good, we’re understood.” He quipped, “Gear up.”

You and Bucky split directions, picking each weapon of choice.

You crawled carefully in the air duct, the space feeling like it began to close in on you. You began to dampen with nervousness. You looked behind to see Bucky effortlessly following you, cool and collected. You sighed in frustration as you moved forward, suddenly your head feeling light.

“Claustrophobic, Doll?” He nudged your ankle.

“Shut up, Barnes.” You hissed, moving forward

“You know, sweetheart, this isn’t a bad view, Your ass moving around like that.” He chuckled, nudging you again.

You ignored his comment, moving forward, stopping at the vent below you.

“Alright, this is our stop, drop here, one room over.” You whispered lightly.

“How many we got, Doll?” Bucky began preparing his gun.

“5.” You began to ensemble yourself, roping the line in for you to drop.

“Ready?” Bucky cocked his gun.

Without saying anything, you busted the vent, sliding down the rope effortlessly. The men rushed to you as you fought off their hits. Bucky followed you down. Gunshots fired over you, as Bucky expertly took out the men before him. You threw skilled kicks and punches, knocking out the men, and now you were alone again. You walked behind Bucky, his gun turned to you, lowering slowly. You started to walk forward when suddenly Bucky shoved your body to the ground. Before you scream at him in confusion, his metal hand flew to your mouth. Two Hydra agents walked by the room, not noticing the 5 men out cold on the floor. As soon as you were clear, you pushed his hand away.

“Was that necessary?” You huffed out, now noticing his heavy frame on you.

“Had to shut you up somehow.” Bucky winked at you, causing you to shove him off.

You jumped to your feet, collecting yourself, but it wasn’t long until the men passed by again. This time they brought friends, around 12 of them. You sighed in frustration, looking to Bucky. He tossed you his gun, then pulled out his knife. The two of you were back at it again, fighting hard against the men, switching your weapons effortlessly. Down to the last man, he was on his knees, blood dripping from the aftermath of your skills.

“They are not here, you can look all you want, but Hydra will always prevail.” He hissed.

“Where the hell are they?” You practically screamed.

Before he could answer, frustration took over as the heel of your gun smashed to his face, knocking him out.

“How the hell are we going to find them, they can’t just do this, they need the drive so what the hell are we going to do, they’re going to kill them before we can reach them, this is bullshit-“ you rambled on, only to be stopped by Bucky gripping your chin.

“Would you shut up for five minutes and breathe?” His body was close to yours now.

Both of you stood in the basement, out of breath and spent. His eyes washed over you, his grip still on your chin. You were about to sneer at him, tell him he was an idiot for not being concerned about his friend. But something unexpected happened, his lips pressed so harshly to yours.

Your eyes shot open at the action, and you almost slapped him away. But god, he tasted so good. Following his action, you pressed harshly back into his, biting roughly on his lip. A groan escaped his throat as he pushed you out of the room into the hallway against the hard, brick wall. Your body slammed against the concrete, a whimper leaving your lips. You both fought for dominance, never giving in to one another. It left you both hungrily tugging at each other. You could almost feel blood on your lip with how hard he was kissing you, but he broke away.

“Take your goddamn clothes off.” He breathed out, ripping off his combat accessories.

“You first.” You began to pull at his shirt.

“You’re so damn stubborn.” He smiled, his lips red and swollen.

His hands reached the front of your shirt, ripping it roughly. You gasped quietly at the coldness of the air and began to tug roughly at his jeans. He was grinning now, flipping a knife in his fingers, carefully ripping you out of uniform. Once his chest was bare, you raked your nails across, biting his chest hungrily.

Suddenly, the two of you were exposed in the open, not caring if anyone saw you. He pushed you roughly to the ground, attacking every inch of your exposed skin. You could feel how hard he was every time he moved, his member pressing up against you. Each time you whimpered, silently cursing to yourself, God, he was big, you knew it would cause you pain at first. He smirked at your reactions to him, knowing how much your body craved to have him inside of you. Finally giving in, he hooked his hands behind your knees, jerking your legs wide open. He positioned himself quickly, pushing in roughly. You cried out at first, not being able to adjust to him. Thankfully, he stayed still for a moment. Giving a light tap to this shoulder, he began to move. His thrusts were sharp and deep, snapping his hips to the back of your thighs; breathy moans filled the hallway, along with slapping skin.

“Damnit your so tight” Bucky sighed into your ear, “So goddamn wet.”

It was hungry and almost animalistic. But God, did it feel good. You could tell by the uneven pace that he was close, you gripped his hair for support as he slammed into you.

“I..It's okay, I'm be-..hind you.” You breathed out as best you could.

At those words, Bucky slipped out of you, causing you to whimper loudly at the sudden emptiness.

“Like hell am I going to finish before you.” He breathed out, pushing his fingers to your core.

He worked quickly, as your finish began to rise. As soon as your body began to shake, he withdrew a second time.

“God damnit Buck-“

Before you could finish, he resumed his position, roughly giving you everything he had left in him. The tandem of groans and whimpers rised as the both of you reached the end, screwing your eyes shut you felt it all over your body, you trembled slightly. As he pulled out, he fell to the side, his leg splayed over yours.

Suddenly, a low static noise rang in your ears.

“We have found the location of the Avengers,” Fury stated.

You waited a moment to catch your breath.

“We’ll be there in 5,” you huffed out.

Bucky panted in exhaustion, a smile crept to your face, throwing a playful punch to his jaw, causing him to laugh breathlessly.

Now what the hell were you going to return in, as your clothes lay shredded across the floor.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Favorite Lone Star Fandom Memories

Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings for coming up with this lovely idea! And thank you for the tags @firstprince-history-huh @heartstringsduet @tellmegoodbye @nisbanisba

@carlossreaders @she-walked-away @reyesstrand @rmd-writes

@welcometololaland @nancys-braids @everlastingday @strandnreyes

I have had the best time being part of this fandom so far. Whatever I expected when I first rocked up in September 2022, it wasn't this. What a time we have had. We've been through so much. We've laughed, we've cried, we've swooned, we all became experts on baseball, TV ratings, various laws, and probably know a map of Austin better than we know a map of our own hometowns. I hope with everything I have that this place continues to thrive with love for Tarlos and 911 Lone Star. I hope that I've made some friends for life. I hope that this time during the show's run will be remembered fondly. We got unlucky with this cancellation, but oh my goodness, in other ways we have been so lucky.

First, please enjoy Elaine Paige singing Memory from Cats the Musical. A song for how I'm feeling right now. I promise it's not a Rickroll and I sincerely apologise if you got caught up with me accidentally Rickrolling Lem the other week.

Now! Some memories!:

The time @thisbuildinghasfeelings wanted to know what hospital Carlos would have been taken to after Bridges shot him. I was CRYING LAUGHING because she went to the Texas sub-reddit and was all “Hypothetically, if someone were to get shot in the desert…” and left this message, which quickly got deleted by the mods who probably thought she’d just shot someone:

The time I met @heartstringsduet irl in London last year and wore the below t-shirt, which I got at the 2023 Paris Convention with @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut by my side 😭. And just being able to talk to them in person about life and the show and hug them!!!! And speaking of the 2023 Paris Convention – I got to to look right into the ultimate cow-eyes and tell this guy that he played my favourite character of all time:

The time I got my ass handed to me by @lemonlyman-dotcom because I used the word vest instead of tank top in a WIP.

The fics I wrote that came out of conversations with others/prompts – they wouldn’t exist without some of you. It makes the writing life feel a lot less solitary and also a lot more about the world's most fun mystery box. Thank you so much

Leaving the most batshit comments on poor @rmd-writes and @welcometololaland fic (Un)Professional Services You two really were troopers in the face of that.

Reading fic so good I've spent the next day at work daydreaming about it and looking forward to the next chapters of chaptered fics – and then getting to tell people how much I enjoyed their work! It’s amazing. YOU ARE ALL SO TALENTED.

Posting Sensitivity, my first fic, and refreshing the page to see that I had 8 kudos. I was blown away. And the comments and responses to other fics that have made all the difference during many tough weeks. Thank you, thank you.

The reactions to when I introduced my poor boyfriend to my Tarlos blanket and then when I put it over my legs lmao:

@goodways post about Carlos’ slutty buttonless shirt look in 1x02 – I can’t find the post, but it was gold! And just so many other Shannon posts omg. The blank sign made for Carlos. Iconic.

When @strandnreyes posted this about TK’s absurd camera roll in 4x04.

Of course when Rafael Silva told me that Tarlos switch and @reasonandfaithinharmony made a gif set out of it!

The Tarlos wedding. I brought a mini bottle of Prosecco for the occasion.

The time I thought @ladytessa74 invented Frog and Toad for chapter 3 of The Lovely April. Also...chapter 3 of The Lovely April genuinely helped me cope with the show's cancellation. So that was a biggie.

The art that has been made for my fics by @heartstringsduet @whatsintheboxmh @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @bonheur-cafe. Absolutely extraordinary. I can’t believe it. Thank you forever. Once again, you’re so talented.

Finding the show. Finding you.

Open tag and tags below!:

@paperstorm @goodways @lightningboltreader @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @herefortarlos @bonheur-cafe

@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @liminalmemories21

@freneticfloetry @chicgeekgirl89 @sugdenlovesdingle

@reasonandfaithinharmony @carlos-tk @pimento-playing-hopscotch @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@fangirl-paba @actual-sleeping-beauty @kiwichaeng @literateowl

@emsprovisions @ironheartwriter @sapphic--kiwi @butchreyes

@captain-gillian @laelipoo @nancys-braids @goldenskykaysani

@hereghostslive @anactualcaseofthetruth @henrygrass

@theghostofashton @the-126-family @rangersoup

@annoyingcloudearthquake @butch-buckley - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[hard-core-super-star]

Hi rubix, love your writing btw!! so would I be able to request a wandanat x reader fic where it’s readers birthday and they don’t usually have time or people to celebrate with so Wanda and Nat decide to change that for this year and whisk her away to somewhere like Paris to celebrate and have a great time with some smut at the end 🫣

It’s my birthday in a few days and I’m in dire need of this 🤧

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

warnings: smut -> minors, you know the drill, bye [threesome; smut so soft it borders on spicy fluff; like...one inch of plot; grinding; fingering [R receiving]; the daddy and mommy kink is implied but not explicit lmao; wanda's low-key a brat because...yeah :) ; clothed sex AGAIN because i think it's neat, okay?; cheesy ending...again]

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: hi, lovely anon, thank you for the kind words! i hope i'm not too late with this but either way, i hope you had a fantastic birthday! also, you get the honor of having requested my first ever wandanat fic so that's cool. this was my first time properly sitting down and writing for them so let me know what you think! i really hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“Guess what.”

You look up from the book in your hands to find two pairs of expectant eyes on you. You’ve seen your girlfriends wear many faces since you met them and yet it never fails to surprise you when you catch a glimpse of the genuine joy they wear around you.

The one that makes your heart skip several beats and earns them both teasing comments from the rest of the team.

“What?” You ask as your eyes flicker back and forth between them and the proud grins on their faces.

Wanda playfully rolls her eyes at you. “That’s not how the game works, detka.”

“Come on, go easy on her,” Natasha comes to your aid for once, a subtle hint that even she must be excited about whatever news they’re hiding.

“Yeah, what Nat said.”

You and the redhead share a look that draws a soft chuckle out of your girlfriend. “Remind me how I’m the one who spoils y/n again?”

“Can you stop stalling and tell me what you’re hiding already?” 

Your question earns both a glare and a laugh before you’re finally given the answer you’ve been searching for. Your girlfriends may love you more than anything else in the world but that will never stop them from teasing you like their life depends on it.

“So impatient…yes, fine, we convinced Tony to let us borrow one of his stupidly fast jets for tomorrow.”

Two pairs of green eyes watch your reaction expectantly only to find your face twisting into confusion. “Why?”

There’s a beat of silence where they both stare at each other, silently trying to figure out how to proceed. Clearly, they weren’t expecting you to question the exciting news they had brought to you.

It happens in a flash.

One second you’re sitting alone in bed and the next, your girlfriends are on either side of you, contradicting touches landing on your arms. It’s strange how easy it is to tell them apart. How cautious Natasha’s fingers still are when they trace random patterns onto your skin compared to Wanda’s gentle pressure as trails down to grab onto your hand, unmistakable tendrils of red magic moving to put your forgotten book back onto the shelf.

Natatsha’s the first to break the silence, all her earlier playfulness gone and replaced by subtle concern. “y/n, it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“So?” You shrug. “It’s just another day.”

Wanda tightens her grip on your hand and successfully steals back your attention. “Nonsense, malyshka. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Guys, it’s not a big deal,” you assure them. “I really don’t need anything. Plus, I have too many things to do.”

“Not anymore.” A sweet kiss is placed on your lips before you can voice your complaints. “We’re stealing you away tomorrow.”   

“But what about-”

“Already talked to Steve.”

“And-”

“Kate will understand.”

“How-”

“Stop looking for excuses, detka.” Natasha rolls her eyes as she pulls you closer to her. “You’re coming with us.”

You want to argue, you truly do, but then Wanda’s gluing herself to your side, eager hands slipping under your shirt, and you quickly come to the conclusion that spending all day with them is the best way to spend any day. 

Including a birthday.

Especially since you’re more than used to treating it like every other day of the year. It’s not that you don’t like celebrating it, you’re just always too busy to make real plans and no one’s ever thought to surprise you before.

But of course, your girlfriends aren’t like anyone else.

Which is how they manage to get you onto one of Tony’s jets, reminding you of the existence of time zones and how you have to leave right now if you want to make it to your surprise destination on time. You don’t really mind either way but you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen them this excited about something in a while so you go along with them anyway.

The jet ride seems never-ending despite how fast the aircraft is supposed to be. It doesn’t help that you’ve been having trouble sleeping peacefully the past few nights and Wanda’s running a hand through your hair in the way that makes you melt.

“You’re allowed to go to sleep, you know?” Natasha whispers with a teasing smirk. “We still have a long while to go.”

“Whose idea was this again?” You grumble as you drop your head down onto the redhead’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be a brat, love. You’ll thank us when we get there.”

You bite back the rest of your complaints and sink into the sweet arms of a dreamless sleep. You miss the way your girlfriends watch over you the entire time as well as the long list of things they each want to see and the various ridiculous ways in which they propose to get everything done.

They ultimately agree to let you choose once you’re awake again…something that backfires when the jet finally lands and you’re still far off in dreamland. They go back and forth on whether they should wake you or not, especially since it’s morning where you've landed and the jetlag will definitely destroy you.

You look far too cute to rouse though so Natasha gathers you up into her arms with ease and carries you in her strong embrace the rest of the way.

When you finally do wake up, a few hours have passed and you're safe inside the lavish hotel room Wanda reserved using one of Tony’s endless credit cards. The change in scenery startles your drowsy mind before you feel familiar arms pulling you close.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Wanda says softly as she easily pulls you onto her lap.

“Hi,” you mumble, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Hi, darling. How's the birthday girl feeling? Still sleepy?”

“A little.” You let out a soft sigh as your girlfriend’s hands travel inside your loose shirt, slender fingers tracing random shapes onto your warm skin. “I’m sorry I ruined the trip.”

She scoffs and the sound instantly reminds you of Natasha which pulls a small smile onto your face. “You didn't ruin anything, detka. It's your birthday.”

You don't say anything in response and your girlfriend is quick to pull your thoughts away from their current trajectory. She keeps exploring your waist with one hand while the other one comes up to playfully tug on your hair.

“How about you stop hiding and look at your surprise, hm?”

It’s unclear whether it’s her words or her grip on your hair that makes you obey but neither of you mind. You reluctantly lift your face from its hiding place and let the green-eyed woman guide your gaze toward the large window of the room.

You gasp the second you realize where you are. “You guys brought me to Paris!”

Your excitement manages to break through your exhaustion which earns you a laugh from your loving witch. “Only the best for our girl.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.”

You turn your head at the sound of Natasha’s voice, eager hands reaching out for her instantly. Your silent request is instantly fulfilled and the redhead easily slips into bed next to Wanda.

“I can't believe you would do this for me.”

“Believe it, malyshka.” She leans forward and easily captures your lips with her own.

Wanda huffs as she’s left out of the moment, her hands wandering under your shirt once again. You're too lost in the kiss to notice where her fingers are going until they brush against your nipples.

The sensation makes you jump which makes you grind against the witch’s thigh in a way that leaves you gasping for air. 

“That’s cheating,” Natasha warns after she pulls away from you. 

“What happened to spoiling the birthday girl?”

This time, you're the one who gets left out of the moment as they fight for the control that always rests in the Russian’s hands. They get caught up in their knowing stares and bruising kisses, leaving you aching and panting for their attention.

It’s a game they love playing with you but you’re far too desperate already to last much longer without their hands on you. 

Thankfully, Wanda decides to take pity on you. She gives your hardened nipples a soft tug, smirking against Natasha’s lips when she feels your hips buck once more. “I think someone’s feeling a little needy.”

The redhead turns to look at you, a perfectly raised eyebrow painting her face with the stern humor you've come to know so well. “Is that right, kotenok? Are you feeling needy?” 

You nod, all the heat in your body rushing down from your face to between your thighs. “Please don’t tease.”

“Aw, look at that, Nat. You're not going to deny her when she looks like that, are you?” You're not sure if Wanda’s actually being genuine or not but you don't really care as long as she’ll help you get what you want.

“Who’s the brat now?” She chuckles before reaching out for you, pulling you onto her lap, and leaving behind a pouty Wanda. “Come here, let me give you what you want.”

The Russian is true to her words and wastes no time in sliding a hand past the waistband of both your pants and your underwear. Your complaints about the lack of sink-on-skin contact between you are forgotten as Wanda situates herself behind you, plump lips trailing feather-light kisses up your neck. 

A gasp tumbles out of your lips once Natasha’s fingers finally find your drenched cunt. She moves slowly, almost too slowly, but you already know she’ll be quick to remind you to be patient if you dare whine.  

“You don’t have to be so cautious, detka,” Wanda whispers against your flushed skin. “It’s your birthday, remember?”

“Don’t listen to her, it’s always so much better for you when you’re a good girl.” She easily slips two fingers into your waiting hole, barely holding back a laugh as your pussy swallows her digits.   

Your hands grip her shoulders for stability while they both work in tandem to make you lose the last bits of control you still have over yourself. 

The witch’s hands find their way under your shirt yet again except this time she’s gripping your hips and helping you move in time with the redhead’s movements. It’s the slowest, most agonizing, of dances and yet the pleasure has you arching your back in seconds.

“Look at you,” Natasha coos, taking a mental picture of how delicious you look writhing in Wanda’s arms. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, malyshka.”

Your walls clench the second you hear the affectionate petname and the Russian can’t resist the urge to lean forward and attach herself to your neck. Her thrusts are still slow and steady but then finally, her thumb begins to circle your puffy clit.

Your head falls back against Wanda’s shoulder and she laughs as you practically go limp from the pleasure. “You’re gonna break her, ‘Tasha.”

“She likes it.” She punctuates her point by curling her fingers just right and pulling out a string of moans from deep within you. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Mhmm, please don’t stop.”

They share a look you don’t see but you do feel the evidence of yet another standoff. It’s like Wanda just can’t stop herself from pressing all of Natasha’s buttons when they’re like this. Which means it’s your job as their devoted girlfriend to let them turn your pleasure into a competition.

And they do just that.

Wanda’s grip on your hips tightens until her nails are digging into your skin and she’s practically forcing you to ride Natasha’s fingers. Natasha, for her part, increases the speed of her thrusts, launching you closer and closer toward your orgasm. She’s still drawing it out of you, though,  still balancing speed with soft kisses and murmured praises.

It’s a strange combination but it works perfectly. Just like your relationship with them. It’s something that transcends words, something that can’t be explained, merely felt…and it’s also exactly what brings you to the edge.

“Nat…please…”

“Please, what, detka?” Wanda responds for your girlfriend.

“Can I cum? Please?”

You half-expect them to make you beg for a little longer but it seems your special day has left them more merciful than usual. Natasha’s lips make their way up your neck and onto your jawline until she reaches your lips and gives you the permission you’re searching for.

“Go ahead, cum for us.”

You’ve heard the words thousands of times and yet they make you fall apart like nothing else. The slow build-up finally reaches its peak with one more swirl of Natasha’s thumb against your clit and you literally fall face-first into your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, love. Always so good for us.”

Your response comes in the shape of a muffled whine as you bury your face into the redhead’s neck. 

The sound makes both of your girlfriends smile and Wanda moves to sit on Natasha’s other side while they wait for you to recover. “I guess we’re not leaving the hotel any time soon.”

“Are you complaining, Maximoff?”

“Shut up.”

Their bickering makes you giggle. “Wanda’s being a brat again, Nat.”

“I know.” The green-eyed woman turns her head to press a barrage of kisses against the side of your face. “I think that means she can’t join us in the shower.”

The comment draws another complaint out of the young witch and you happily rest in your girlfriend’s arms while they start up another playful argument you’ll eventually have to get in the middle of.

You don't mind though, there's no other way you'd rather spend your birthday than with them.

[cbrownjc]

My Long IWTV Season 2 Prediction Post:

So this is a long post containing all my (more or less) final predictions for Season 2 of IWTV. Mostly so I can keep track of everything I've been predicting since Season 1 ended.

I'm breaking this all up between General Predictions and some specific Episode Predictions. And I'll put it all under a spoiler cut due to the length and just in case any of this is correct, which would mean massive spoilers. Because yes, many of these predictions are based on things found in many of the books in the VC, not just IWTV; as well as recent trailers and other press material.

General Predictions:

Louis will attempt to end his life like he did in the book Merrick by the end of the season, likely in EP08: This is something that I've been predicting since EP05 of Season 1 first aired. I think it is pretty much my oldest prediction wrt the show, and one I've never wavered from. Now it's time to see if this prediction is right or not.

Lestat is asleep in a coma somewhere in the Al Shafar Tower, and is the source of The Groan: I first made this prediction back before EP07 of S01 aired. I wasn't too confident about it being proven during Season 1, but I think now is the time. Maybe Lestat's in the penthouse. Maybe he's in the basement. Maybe he is on some floor in between, I don't know. But something like The Groan wasn't spoken about as just some throw-away line. There is a reason it was pointed out. And I think that is because Lestat is the source for the sound and makes it sometimes while he is in his post-Memnoch coma state. And what is going to finally wake him up will be Louis doing what I predicted above in my first prediction.

Armand and Daniel's relationship (ie their past romantic relationship) will be revealed in EP08: I've been predicting this more times than I can count during the hiatus. Simply because, as far as general/causal audiences go, revealing it in the finale always just seemed like the most impactful place to reveal it.

The missing pages of Claudia's diaries will reveal the information about her that we learned in the book Merrick, particularly regarding her feelings toward Louis: Via the link above I made a long meta post about that. I'll say more about it below, but in general, why Louis is going to do what he does by the end of EP08 will be because of what he reads/learns from Claudia's missing diary pages, just like as what happened with book!Louis in Merrick.

Louis will begin to awaken his Fire Gift abilities during the season: There is a quick shot in one of the preview trailers of what looks to be Louis setting one of his photographs on fire, but not with a match or candle or anything, but just by staring at it. I think when Louis first discovers he has the ability to light things on fire like that, he'll not be overly excited about it or anything, and only reluctantly test it out sometimes . . . until he unleashes it in full in the season finale against the theater coven.

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Episode Predictions (Spoilers):

Episode One (many people have already seen this episode at the premiere, but there is one thing I was already predicting about it before then that I want to say again):

-- Louis and Claudia will not arrive in Paris until either the end of the episode or the beginning of Episode Two.

-- This episode will be a set up to explain how revenants are created. That they are made if you try to turn a human but don't give them enough blood; OR if you don't scatter the ashes of a vampire that has been reduced to one. This will be done to set up both why Claudia's ashes had to be scattered AND the risks being made to bring Louis back either at the end of Season 2 or the beginning of Season 3.

---

Episode Two:

-- Not much to say really that most don't already know/suspect. Louis and Claudia arrive in Paris, and Armand and Louis first meet. Louis and Claudia meet the whole theater coven.

---

Episode Three:

-- Again, not much to say. Armand's full backstory will be told. This is also the main episode where we'll see Nicki and what his fate was. We will probably also get confirmation from Armand that the backstory that Lestat told Louis and Claudia about Magnus and how Lestat said he was turned was true.

credit: gif by @sheisraging

---

Episode Four:

-- Louis and Armand have sex for the first time (with Dreamstat in Louis' head giving commentary 🤪).

credit: gif by @sheisraging

-- The "banquet" scene, where Armand puts the coven members to sleep and Louis and Santiago have a confrontation (Louis looking like he's going to cut Santiago's tongue out.)

-- We will see the rift between Claudia and Louis continue to grow, as well as Claudia's distrust/dislike of Armand.

credit: gif by @sophsun1

---

Episode Five:

-- "Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat." 😂

credit: gif by @loo-nuh-tik

Yeah. We'll see this moment above in Episode 5. And Louis and Armand will basically deliver all their break-up dialogue from the end of the first book HERE, in Louis' shitty apartment in San Francisco; after Louis has attacked and almost killed Daniel.

This means that yes, Louis will confirm to Armand that he knows what Armand did to Claudia here. (With only heavy illusions made about what her ultimate fate has been.) And then Armand will give his "I thought you'd get over it" monologue.

And while Louis and Armand won't fully go their separate ways as they did in the book after all of this (because Armand will still feel he needs to look after Louis), we will very much understand that these two are not a happy couple at this point in time, and are full-on toxic in their own unique way.

credit: gif by @loo-nuh-tik

-- Along with the FULL 1973 interview, The Chase between Armand and Daniel will be shown almost in full. We'll see a lot of things about The Chase, but we will probably not see fully when, or how, it ended.

---

Episode Six:

-- "I betrayed Louis once in my life and it wasn't in San Francisco." Armand says this to Daniel in Dubai in this episode.

-- Madeleine gets turned in this episode.

-- Louis says goodbye/breaks up with Armand.

credit: gif by @hermit-frog

-- "The Last Supper."

credit: gif by @nalyra-dreaming

-- The episode will end with Louis, Claudia, and Madeleine all being taken by the Theater coven to be put on trial. Armand gives Louis a "Judas kiss" and leaves the three alone at the dinner table right before they are taken.

credit: gif by @ofinkandust

---

Episode Seven:

-- Okay so, back when the Jones Cut trailer first aired, I said that this moment was Rockstar Lestat:

credit: gif by @virginiaisforvampires

Well, I was wrong about that. Why? Well take a look at this:

credit: gif by @sheisraging

Do you see it? Behind Santiago, in the upper left. That is the same key prop on the railing as in the shot with Lestat on the right on the railing. If you squint, you can also kind of make out the musical notes on the railing to the left of the Lestat image on the railing on the right in the Santiago one.

The shot of Lestat isn't Rockstar Lestat, as I first thought it was. It is the real Lestat's first entrance into Season 2. And it's going to be at the trial, in Episode Seven.

-- And because Lestat is making his first entrance in the way I talked about above? This is 100% from Armand's POV with some of Louis' misremembered POV with it. Because Lestat was not in any condition to make THIS kind of entrance on his own.

-- The revisit of Mardi Gras Murder Night from EP07 of Season 1 will happen here, during the trial. And it will be revealed that Claudia alone slit Lestat's throat while Louis stood by passively, while Lestat begged Louis to put him in his coffin. (Matching up to what Claudia wrote, in Lestat's blood, what his last words were.) Giving the full context to this moment we only saw in a flash in EP07 of Season 1:

Which will then lead into . . .

-- The revisit of the Louis-Lestat fight from EP05 of Season 1 will be shown in this episode as well. (And will give viewers, particularly non-book readers, their first hints of Amel.) And because of what happened in that fight, specifically why that fight started in the first place, will tie into . . .

-- Claudia's diaries, which will be read at the trial. Out loud. By Santiago. And more specifically the missing pages, which we see Louis and Armand talk about in this preview, will contain some damning evidence that will all lead to . . .

credit: gif by @mundaneandmagicalcreature

-- Claudia will reveal right there, on stage, to Louis himself, how much she hates him and blames him more for her situation than she does Lestat. Because "It's never been about me." Lestat made her for Louis. If Louis hadn't wanted her, she would never have been turned.

-- This episode will end with Claudia's death. Louis will be rescued from his coffin prison by Armand, and the episode will end with Louis breaking down over her loss -- both in the past and in the present in Dubai now that he remembers everything about Claudia's true feelings towards him right before she died.

---

Episode Eight:

-- Louis goes all Carrie/Firestarter on the Theater coven (after warning Armand to stay away first), unleashing his full Fire Gift powers on them all.

credit: gif by @sam-reid

-- Louis grieving in the park -- the same park where he first met Armand -- in the rain after destroying the theater coven, comforted by Dreamstat. And then Armand arrives . . . because Armand is whom Louis was actually waiting for. Why? Because, as Louis said about it in the book --

Where to go then, if not to die? It was strange how the answer came to me.

credit: gif by @hermit-frog

-- Louis and Armand (and Dreamstat) go to the "Louver" for that moment from the book; which in the show has been replaced with someplace else since, post WWII, the Louver was apparently still closed at that time. It will be revealed that Louis knows of Armand's hand in Claudia's fate, shown via Dreamstat's reaction to everything Armand says about what happened.

-- And this will all now tie everything together into what will be alluded to about Claudia -- and Louis knowing Armand had a hand in it whatever it was -- in Episode 5 . . . and this now reveals why Louis and Armand's relationship has not been a happy one at all over the years, as we will see in Episode 5. And this will all be summed up by Louis probably saying this from the book directly to Armand:

"Yes, that is the crowning evil, that we can even go so far as to love each other, you and I. And who else would show us a particle of love, a particle of compassion or mercy? Who else, knowing us as we know each other, could do anything but destroy us? Yet we can love each other."

-- And the "Louver" scene will be the last scene we see Dreamstat in, as it will be here that Armand will tell Louis that Lestat died in the destruction of the theater. And Louis will believe him.

-- Armand, in the present in Dubai, will reveal the head thing he did to Claudia before she died.

-- Armand will reveal how he threw Lestat off Magnus' tower, even after Lestat was badly burned by Louis setting fire to the theater (but survived).

-- we will find out WHY Louis stopped feeding on humans in the year 2000. And it's probably not something anyone expects.

-- At some point in here it will be revealed that Lestat and Louis do reunite after Paris -- for real -- for a time, in the recent past. As seen by this hug:

credit: gif by @nalyra-dreaming

However, something happened that made Lestat unavailable/incapacitated again (some Memnoch-type event is my guess.) So Lestat is now in a coma and Louis, rather than be alone, chooses to stay with Armand for the same reason he did after losing Claudia in Paris.

-- In Dubai, Louis will try to end his life via sunlight exposure, as he did in the book Merrick (as I noted above). Because, along with finally remembering the truth about how Claudia really felt about him, Louis will also be under the impression that Lestat will never wake from his coma again.

-- The bookcase collapsing around Daniel is a consequence of Lestat waking up from his coma after he stops hearing Louis' heart beating. (I.E. a visual representation of Lestat "shattering the realm" as it is apparently explained in the book Prince Lestat about this moment when he woke up in Merrick.)

-- Armand saves Daniel from getting crushed by the bookcase, which will also come tumbling down after the books and glass do.

-- Somewhere in all of that, Daniel will have a flashback that reveals he and Armand were actually lovers in the past. Daniel will be stunned by the memory. Armand will just be surprised that Daniel finally remembered it.

-- Armand and Daniel won't have time to talk about it though because Armand fears/will realize that Louis has done something that caused the commotion to happen (and likely because he also notices The Groan has stopped).

-- Armand and Daniel find Louis' body, burnt to coal ash. Lestat is either already there with Louis' body or arrives very soon after they do.

-- Whether we see Lestat revive Louis (as he was revived in Merrick) at the end of the episode (with Armand's help) or if we are left on a cliffhanger about it? IDK.

--------

The predictions above are all the ones I feel most confident about right now. There are some others I have, but I'm not very confident about them, so I'm not listing them. I might mention them in individual posts after certain episodes air or not.

[aoparteilee]

Alya With a Chance of Defamation

Words: 1,230

Part 1 (here) - Part 2 (Soon)

Summary: Alya Césaire wasn't stupid. As an aspiring journalist, she knew to fact-check, double check, and every other check. She could connect details faster than her phone connects to the school wifi. And while she wore glasses, her eyes are ones of hawk's when spotting holes in a story.

She's also not a suck-up, or too much of a snitch. If something isn't harmful, she's gonna let it slide. What she won't let slide, however, is the deliberate dragging of her best friend's name.

or, Alya isn't as dense as she is in canon

When Lila Rossi first comes to Dupont, stories of travels and claims of connections spilling from her very bangs, involving a certain red and black clad super-heroine, Alya is a bit hind-sighted. Ladybug is not an easy lady to come by to request an interview, and while her partner in crime-fighting was a bit more open to conversations, the looming threat of identities that came in the form of beeping noises often pulled him away before he could share more.

She had many questions. How did they acquire their miraculous jewelry? How many miraculi were out there? Are there other ways besides Ladybug's yoyo and Chat Noir's Cataclysm to terminate akumas and prevent akumatizations? Do they have any leads on Hawkmoth's whereabouts and identity? Will they leave once Hawkmoth is gone?

Marinette had snagged her an interview with the heroine before, but it had been more about her thoughts surrounding her heroism and how the super suit worked.

She is brimming with excitement to question the new student when she remembers one, tiny detail: How could Lila even know Ladybug before coming to Paris?

According to the girl, she first came from Italy before moving here because her parents were important Italian diplomats. Knowing about Ladybug's existence is possible. By this point of time news of the superheroes has become old and accepted as something that just is and another weird thing about France. But how could a girl all the way in Italy personally know a superhero in Paris who most likely, lives in Paris.

Alya won't write it down as fact, but judging from how akuma attacks were always in Paris, whomever had given Ladybug and Chat Noir their miraculi must have given it to people from Paris. If, hypothetically, Ladybug were from Italy, she gets to Paris so fast it's unreal. How do person all the way across the continent hear about an akumatization so fast they get to Paris in around 5 minutes?

She looks beside her, to her best friend, and from the looks of it Marinette is thinking along the same lines. She's wearing a frown and her nose is scrunched in that manner that she only ever does when Chloe is being more irritating than usual.

Something is rotten in the state of Lila Rossi.

Okay, Alya will admit, she- as a little kid, mind you- had lied to her fellow students about whatever was trending being something she followed to sound cool. Everyone at one point lied about something to sound cool in front of their peers. It's a part of the beautiful cycle of life! But this is getting out of hand.

Lying about knowing celebrities is one thing, but making promises about helping her classmates reach their dreams with her "connections" was just mean. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes when Lila had told her about setting her up an appointment with Ladybug for an interview. She politely declined, wrapping her arm around Marinette's shoulder and saying, "Thanks, but there's no need, Lila. Miss Dupain-Cheng over here happens to also be friends with Ladybug. In fact, my blog's most viewed video, an interview with Ladybug, was arranged by her! I think I'm all set."

Marinette gives a small grin and flicks the hand by her shoulder playfully.

Lila's expression falters, her mouth twisting down from her welcoming 'I-can-grant-you-opportunities' smile into a displeased downturn.

Bingo.

She quickly smiles again, and moves to harass Mylene with her actor connections.

Alya is not a genius psychoanalyzing scholar. She's never been too good at reading people, often being labeled a bit naive back in her old school. But she's not stupid, nor is she blind. She saw and she knows.

Fortunately for Lila, she hasn't lied about something stupid and illegal enough that Alya would feel the need to call her out for.

She's lied before, so what if this girl's a little more intense? No harm done. Her friends aren't stupid nor blind either.

As long as no one is getting hurt, who cares if the new girl is trying to show off a bit?

Marinette cares. Marinette cares a lot.

"You do know Ladybug wouldn't publicly have a best friend right?" she squished Alya's cheeks, making her laugh a bit. "That would be dumb, because then the said best friend would be targeted by Hawkmoth and-"

"Babes, relax, I know she's a little bit of a liar," Alya reassures. "Just don't bother with her. Soon enough the hype will die down and she'll realize we're humoring her. You never lied to sound cool before?"

Marinette paused, then seemed to relax, slumping against her. "Oh. Good. Okay, so at least you know."

Alya laughed again.

What was Marinette worried about? Lila's a harmless liar. It'll die down in a few days, probably.

"Marinette, I don't know what rough fight you and Ladybug might have gone through, but that's no excuse to threaten her identity!" Lila exclaimed the very next day to confused but listening class, if only to humor the girl. "Don't you know what could happen if Hawkmoth were to find out?"

Marinette blinked tiredly up at the girl, bags under her eyes and hair askew. "Say that again? My ears are still ringing from that commotion last night."

Yesterday's akuma had been a little boy who loved New Years and was frustrated that the date was taking so long to come. With Hawkmoth being the negativity leech he is, he had turned the boy into Fireworker, who made loud booming noises across Paris that resembled fireworks and shot beautiful lights at the two heroes who tried to get a grasp at what the akuma's object was while trying not to explode in beautiful lights. It had gone until 2 AM, when they realized the boy had actually left the object in his drawer figuring it was the safest place in the world.

Poor Marinette lived in the bakery that was right on the street where the akuma and the heroes were fighting and couldn't sleep with the noise.

Lila flusters, but goes on. "Yesterday! Ladybug told me how selfish you were and wouldn't help with the akuma! Then you threatened her identity after calling her annoying! For sake, the fight was right next to you!"

She expected people from the class to back her up on this, but no one did. They all looked at her like she'd grown two heads, both of which were empty.

Alya is the first to break the awkward silence. "Ladybug avoids asking civilians for help unless she's absolutely desperate. Beside the usual dangers of the akuma last night being destructive to buildings, it was nowhere out of the ordinary and Ladybug and Chat Noir ended up defeating the akuma on their own."

While her classmates back her up, and Lila begins to panic, Marinette is still looking groggy. She looks as if she hadn't heard a word. Alya couldn't blame her, while the Miraculous cure worked wonders to property damage, it didn't really change the effects the akuma had on people.

Encouraging Marinette to sleep, she silently fumed. She hadn't cared for Lila's lies at first. Everyone lies sometimes, after all. But this was deliberate. Trying to slander her best friend of all people?

Lila forgets, Alya is a journalist. And she knows a thing or two about bringing someone down with words.

[astroyongie]

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ Goddess Worship: An Introduction of Venus 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

Note: Day 21 of our October calendar! Today we have an introduction of deities I work with/worship. This post is to provide some information about the deities but also how I work with them personally. Everyone has their own methods with the Gods, and you should do whatever feels right with you while also respecting the bases of the religions.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Historical Background:

Venus is the Roman goddess of love, beauty, desire, and fertility, whose origins lie in the Greek goddess Aphrodite (they are basically the same deity but one can have a preference for one or another when it comes in terms of naming. I personally like Venus denomeation better than Aphrodite, yet Aphrodite's cult is older and thus more accurate when it comes to history). She played a major role in Roman culture, not just as a goddess of romantic love but also as a symbol of the prosperity and power of the Roman state. Julius Caesar claimed to be a descedent from Venus through her son Aeneas, who was a Trojan hero and a central figure in Roman myth. You can find a vast historical symbols and lore with Venus. Out of the three goddess that I work with (Venus, Freyja and Hekate) she is the most well represented through art, literature, historical history and mythology.

Attributes and Symbols:

Doves and Sparrows: they are birds sacred to Venus, representing love and desire but also innocence and purity. These birds often accompany her in art as a part of her symbolism. Shells and Pearls: Venus is famously depicted emerging from the sea on a shell, symbolizing her birth from sea foam. Anything directly linked with the sea can be symbolic in her name Roses and Myrtle: Both flowers are sacred to Venus, representing love, beauty, and fertility. Golden Apples: Associated with the goddess, these were the prize in the famous myth of the Judgment of Paris, where Venus was deemed the fairest of all. Other red fruits can also be associated with her, anything that holds a connotation of love and desire. (The apples are also an association with Eve and the forbidden fruit)

Worship and Rituals:

Veneralia: A festival held in honor of Venus Verticordia (Venus the Changer of Hearts) on April 1st. This festival was primarily concerned with cleansing rituals, bathing in myrtle-laden water, and offering prayers for purity in love and relationships. Venus Genetrix: A title meaning "Mother Venus," this aspect emphasized Venus’s role as a progenitor of the Roman people through Aeneas. Julius Caesar established a temple in her honor as Venus Genetrix, showing her importance in Roman political and public life. Gardens and Shrines: Venus had many shrines and temples, particularly in Rome. Shrines to Venus often included lush gardens, which were a symbol of her fertility and life-giving powers. This is also an idea to set al whole altar/shrine for her, that doesn't need to be inside of home and can be creative with your outside space. Erotic and Fertility Rites: Venus was invoked in matters of love, sex, and fertility. Offerings of flowers, perfume, and wine were common, and her blessings were sought by women who wished to conceive. Pretty much like Freyja, people would have sexual intercourse in her honor State Worship: Venus was integral to the Roman state religion. Augustus, following Caesar’s example, elevated her status, linking her to the success of the empire and military victories. Any "birth" was dedicated to her

-> When worshipping Venus, you can make a pretty altar while respecting her symbolisms. Venus can help with love, but remember she helps with self love first as well. Do not invoke her only to have X falling in love with you. her cult needs to be taken seriously. Offerings need to be maid every friday and during her ritual days. Never use her power to become "the prettiest of them all", as Venus doesn't take well humans who try to use her name for pettiness. Be grateful for her, shower her in love and admiration and she will bless you in return

-> Ideas for offerings: Wine, honey, shells, feathers, mirrors, roses, myrtle, perals, jewlery, perfume, incense, scented candles, hairbrushes or makeup, apples, red fruits, sea water or sand, anything symbolic with the sea and love.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

"Venus in Rome: A Translation of Book II of Ovid's Fasti" by Ovid, Translated by Betty Rose Nagle

"Venus Genetrix: Political Imagery and Female Personifications in the Late Republic" by Paul Zanker

Carney, J. (2013). Venus in Augustan Rome (Doctoral dissertation, Florida Atlantic University).

Flory, M. B. (1988). Pearls for Venus. Historia: Zeitschrift für Alte Geschichte, (H. 4), 498-504.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/27/2025

no lesbian novel this week! didn’t get to read much at work bc i had to do my actual job :( did manage to do some sewing

listening

ive been bumping this since the end of the season tbqh. the way in-universe this has been a chart-topping party song for over a year??? with its own little dance??? how Niamos is the name of a beach planet so this is functionally a Pitbull song where he yells MIAMI!!!! which is all of them???? show of all time. show of all fucking time.

it’s not on streaming platforms but THE IN UNIVERSE ELEVATOR REMIX!!!! FUCK!!! WHAT IF STAR WARS WAS GOOD!!!

-

reading

did not manage to read a lesbian novel. did manage to read half a book ive had in hold since january 2 of this year and i did not like it :(

this is playing in the same space as Canticle for Leibowitz and anything else that treats software programming as a magical mystical art with priests and such. love this space! you can probably name three more off the top of your head!

while it does have a fascinating 1920s level of technology world (aside from the big magical barrier), it really flounders about in the middle. the twist was pretty clearly telegraphed (fine) but after the twist i had zero desire to continue onward. i had no real interest in how or why this huge overarching societal problem could be solved, and think i could have liked it more if it were either novella or short story length. would be perfect as a classic episode of the twilight zone.

it also strikes a little too close to home for me with its depiction of a far-right religious cult running everything and a depressingly accurate depiction of what it’s like to be a woman in hard stem, down to the sexual assault from a person in the same research group. the two-thirds of the book i read was really just real life as a woman postgrad without many scifi elements. the promise of scifi elements were why i picked up the book, bc i was interested in a hard sci take on dark academia. further annoyances: i also did not love the “they’re trying to keep you PLACID and QUIET and WOMANLY!!!” scene with a doctor. there is an additional second-wave feminist stink around the “original” flavor of magic, stolen from the original women of the land. i hesitate to call it terfy. if i met someone with these views in the real world I would certainly ask more questions before scheduling a second hang. yanno?

-

watching

john wick the fourth bc i unexpectedly have peacock access. video game cutscene lookin ass movie (lovingly). the visual style, lighting, and nods to other movies (genuinely gasped out loud at a specific match cut bc the reference made sense within the plot and wasn’t just a fun visual) are all off the chain. slightly longer than i wanted it to be— the last chase/gun battle through paris dragged a bit despite having some of the coolest set pieces.

-

playing

nothing fun to report in genshin this week. still don’t have enough to guarantee the pink fox lady so i think i will bide my time and wait for skirk to drop at some point the next patch (yet another patch with no map update :( curious)

-

making

trying to clean my house or finish some projects whenever i want to leave my house or spend money. has led to a much cleaner house but a much more housebound me. anyway here’s a scrub cap with fabric a friend bought and asked “hey can you make me a scrub cap” When I Moved To Houston Nearly Two Years Ago. plus the lining galaxy fabric, bought at the joanns closest to umass in mmm 2017?

came home from work friday morning to discover catnip strewn about the living room bc da gorls managed to rip holes in BOTH mr cactus kickers. a somewhat slapdash mend but reinforced with fraychek so the next time they bite and tear the fabric Next to the patch will tear

[morganas-pendragons]

All That Time We Were Silent | Aemond Targaryen

This idea will not leave me alone. Violet Hill by Coldplay remains one of my favorite songs and I loved writing this concept for my first Aemond fic. Not to mention that every single Paris Paloma song is House of the Dragon coded. I don’t know. It makes me want to write a series for this pair (particularly one where SPOILERS SPOILERS Aemond dies at The God's Eye and it's this reader who kills him instead of Daemon -> put to The Fruits by Paris Paloma, because I have no self control and will use the same song and multiple different lyrics as titles)

The reader in this is female, and she's about two years older than Aemond. Also Rhaenys and Corlys' youngest daughter.

Anyway. This is set pre and post Rooks Rest with Velaryon!Reader, but it is Rhaenys’ daughter with Corlys because I can’t handle moms who lose all their children (ahem I’m looking at you Carol Peletier) 😭

***

"My sweet little dragon," Your mother caught your face in her hands, dark eyes staring down into your own as you stopped pacing in the halls of The Red Keep. It had only been mere hours since Alicent had delivered the news that your betrothal to Aemond was broken off. You were still so confused about why it had happened at all. Just mere days ago, you were gathering the courage to actually confess to Aemond how you felt. "Do not let that fire go uncontained."

"Mother-"

Rhaenys shook her head. Of her three children, you had always had the most spirit: You were far more likely than Laena and Laenor both to get yourself into trouble. You were the fire she believed would never stop burning.

"Listen to me. You are blood of the dragon, salt of the sea. You are a perfect split of myself and your father." Rhaenys hummed as she pulled you into her side, fingers gently winding through your hair as you hid your face in her shoulder. It was easy to forget that you were barely ten and eight. You also fiercely loved your parents. They were all you had left.

"I loved him, and she took him! What was wrong with me? What did I do?"

"I know. You did nothing. It is all the crown who pushes this upon you." Rhaenys knew better. She knew exactly why Alicent had taken it upon herself to split your betrothal to Aemond. You were getting too close. She couldn't have that happen to her precious son. "Above all, remember this. Fire can consume. That's what its purpose is. Please, sweetheart, do not let it take away those precious parts of you that the Hightowers have tried so hard to steal."

You often thought about how hard your mother tried to maintain your innocence after your brother and sister died. How your mother and father had trained you up as both salt and sea, fire and blood, determined that they would not lose another child while being involved with Rhaenyra's ascension.

Your mother had tried so hard to temper that anger down. It had worked, for a while.

Then Rook's Rest happened.

***

You found yourself positioned between Corlys and Rhaenys as Jace continued in his questioning of his mother after her sudden departure. Rhaenyra's explanation is as sound as she can make it - attempting for peace before plunging the realm into war - and you cannot find fault in her for going to see Alicent. The pursuance of peace is far more important then a war between dragons.

You dare not think about the end. How many dragons would be left?

How many people at this table would still be breathing?

"Cole's victories have only emboldened him." Rhaenys remarked. "He marches on Rook's Rest."

"Why Rook's Rest?" Rhaenyra questioned. "After Duskendale? It's but a small coastal keep."

You're not paying much attention to the remarks of old men spread across the table. You're not a strategist, not by any means, but you are itching for the opportunity to meet Aemond in the field. You have the second largest claimed dragon besides your mother, and you have the most experience in flight. You are a dragon rider.

You are capable of this.

More than anything, you want to make him pay for what he did to you. For how he hurt you. You want him to remember the pain you endured and the way he'd abandoned you. Left alone to face the phantoms remaining inside a little cliffside house by the sea. You'd visited it far more times then you cared to admit after your betrothal had been broken off.

You want to turn his silence - which has spread across the years, as the Prince has not attempted to send ravens since just before Viserys died - into begging, into screams that echo across a scorched battlefield as you plunge your sword into his heart.

It's the least of what he deserves.

"Send me." Jacerys interjected. Your heart sank as you watched the Prince's attempts at negotiating with his mother, eager to serve and eager to fight.

Rhaenyra would never let the loss of another son stand.

"No." Rhaenyra snapped.

"I will burn Coles lines and withdraw before King's Landing can raise the alarm-"

"You lack the experience."

You cleared your throat and stepped out of your space between your mother and father. "I will go," You said firmly. "I have the second largest dragon here besides Meleys and have experience. Nightshade was actively in battle prior to me claiming her. I also am able to evade Vhagar and Aemond. It could be a potential opportunity to take Aemond out of the-"

"No." Rhaenys' voice is clear and sharp as she stepped into your space, firm hand resting on your shoulder as your father nodded his confirmation of your mother's statement. "You must send me, Your Grace. Meleys is your largest dragon and no stranger to battle. I will meet Cole."

Both Corlys and yourself watched Rhaenys meet Rhaenyra's eyes before she released you from her grasp and began her pace toward the Dragon Mont. You could tell Rhaenyra did not want her Hand to depart.

You did not wish your mother to go either. Not with such threat of death looming over her.

"Mother!"

Rhaenys turned to gaze at you over her shoulder. Donned in her ceremonial armor and crown, The Queen Who Never Was softened at the sight of her daughter as you stormed into the Dragon Mont. Meleys whined at the sight of you. She could always acutely feel her rider's fierce devotion to her children. "Do not argue with this," Rhaenys said. "I will not let you meet your end in battle when you are the future of our House. Stay here, defend Rhaenyra, attend to your duty as a Targaryen. Do you understand me?"

"But Aemond-" You interjected, pausing as she reached underneath her shoulders and unfastened her cloak, tightening it around you until the dragon clasped just beneath her neck. You shuddered and leaned forward to rest your head on her shoulder. You would've been lying if you said you weren't terrified. "Please, Mother. Please come back."

Rhaenys smiled and tilted your head forward to press a kiss upon the crown, tightening her cloak around your shoulders before turning to Meleys. "We're off to battle again, old girl." She whispered. Identical eyes met your own before she grabbed the side of her saddle. "My littlest dragon..."

It was only then she remembered how young you were. How alone you were.

"Mother?"

"Avy jorrāelan, my Princess."

Tears burned your eyes as Meleys roared and took off through the mouth of the Mont.

You never saw her again.

***

Rhaenys turned her back to gaze upon Vhagar as Sunfyre descended and fell into the woods. It would've been the perfect opportunity to turn back. To retrieve you from Dragonstone, to have two of Rhaenyra's largest dragons take flight against Vhagar would nearly guarantee a victory for the Black Queen.

She did not do either.

The Queen Who Never Was ordered her dragon to attack, tied herself into her saddle, and took off through the smoke that had settled over Rook's Rest.

She dare not dwell upon her own memories of this dragon she was about to face. About Laena claiming Vhagar, about your first ride upon both Vhagar and Meleys, about your own claiming of Nightshade... of Laenor and Laena.

The nights she'd spent upon the window waiting for Corlys to come home, all three of her children with her.

She dare not dream of home.

***

"Do you ever wish it for us?"

"Wish what?" You asked, twirling your fingers through the ends of Aemond's hair where his head rested upon your chest. "All I wish for us is to take our dragons to the ends of the earth and spend the rest of my life indulging in the finest chocolates and wine with the man I love. That is what I wish."

Aemond snorted and curled himself deeper into your side. "To be able to properly express our love. I don't think my mother will ever let it happen. This. Us. She won't let it continue. Not with the threat of Rhaenyra sitting the Iron Throne-"

"I don't want to think about Rhaenyra, Aemond." You murmured. "I want to think about you and me. That's a far happier memory then to dwell upon all the times The Stranger has descended upon my family. I will not let the Gods take what we have from me too."

Aemond tried not to think of you when Vhagar descended upon Meleys, teeth clamped firmly into her neck while the other dragon roared.

He tried not to think of all the times he'd seen you with this dragon himself, with Vhagar, all the times he'd had those precious words on the tip of his tongue when he watched your joy in the face of such terrifying beasts.

If you love me.. won't you let me know?

Aemond could not risk it. Admitting to his growing feelings, his growing adoration, gave his mother another weapon to use against him. You were far too good of a thing in his life for Aemond to be okay with Alicent weaponizing that.

That had been why she'd broken off the betrothal. It wasn't her idea.

It was his.

If you love me, why'd you let me go?

He tried not to think of you as the world was enveloped in fire, and he tried not to think of you as he watched the Red Queen descend into the castle at Rook's Rest. She did not get back up.

He was told The Queen Who Never Was died that very same day.

***

It was Baela who delivered the news to you.

"Auntie?"

You turned your head to acknowledge the Princess and smiled, beckoning her deeper into your chambers. "Enter, sweet girl." The peace that had fallen upon you in your time waiting for your mother to come home dissipated once you recognized the tears brimming in Baela's eyes. "What is it?"

You tightened your fingers in your mother's cloak as Baela broke the news. You expected to be much more upset. Devastated. What you felt instead was that same anger that your mother had spent years tempering in you begin creeping to the surface. You were most certainly not your father and mother's daughter.

Maybe that anger came from deeper in your family line. Maybe it was generational. Maybe all Targaryens harbored anger like this.

"She died a warrior." You murmured. You wanted to believe that. You did believe that. Your mother would have fought valiantly against whatever foe dare face her. "She died a true dragon rider. We can only wish the same for ourselves."

"What is to be done now?" Baela asked.

Your thoughts automatically went to your father. Your father, waiting for a wife who would never come home. Your father residing upon the Driftwood Throne in a castle that would resemble a tomb, for none of its occupants remained. They were all dead. All that remained of them was their memory.

"I need to go home. To see your grandsire," You said quietly. "The loss of my mother will devastate us both-"

"Has it not already?"

You had to consider her question thoroughly before being able to answer it. When your brother and sister had died, it had taken you a significantly longer period of time than your mother and father to adjust. To be able to properly allow yourself to grieve. How was there time for the luxury of grief when the obligation of being the Heir to the Driftwood Throne was being pressed down upon you?

"Not yet. My anger will get the better of me first." You sighed and squeezed the girl's shoulders before releasing her. "And then the grief will surely follow."

***

Rhaenyra called you into the room with the Painted Table some hours later. You were not ready to hear her. Just as you'd said, Baela watched Rhaenyra attempt to offer consolation and comfort in the face of your mother's loss.

This was, in your words, three people that Rhaenyra Targaryen had taken from you. You would not allow your father to be the next.

"Princess-"

"No!" You yelled. All the voices in the room died as Rhaenyra's head snapped upward, blue eyes meeting your own from across the painted table as you stormed forward. "I refuse participate in a war like this one. I don't care if your legitimacy has been contested. My mother was the only reason I allowed for myself and Nightshade to take part. I will not risk the future of my House or my dragon for the sake of the Iron Throne."

You knew you were being irrational. It was easier to be irrational and angry for the loss of your mother and direct it at Rhaenyra then come to your second most devastating realization: Despite how much you still loved Aemond, you were going to have to be the one to kill him. You were going to have to be the one to kill him because he was the one who took your mother from you.

Right now, you had one goal in mind. One that you fully intended to see it through.

"Princess, where are you going?"

"Home. I'm going back to Driftmark to deliver news to my Lord father of the passing of my mother. It needs to be me."

"And if the Queen has need of you?"

You flippantly waved your hand over your shoulder. "Don't! The only time you need to have me involved, Your Grace, is when you need someone who can successfully face Aemond and Vhagar. When that happens, I want to be the one to end it." You turned back around in the hallway to stare at the Black Queen's Council, your nieces and nephews, the Queen Who Had Yet To Be. "He killed my mother. I want retribution for that act."

You'd rather she be the Queen Who Never Was. If anyone deserved the right of being Queen, it was Rhaenys.

"When it's time to kill Aemond, it should be me. Call upon me then. Until that point comes? You are on your own."

[authors note: I'm seriously considering adding a second part just for the fact that I have GOT to write Seasmoke claiming Addam LOL]

[chin-chilla-7]

Getaway

Summary: Carlisle and Esme plan a trip for just the two of them. Word Count: 940 For @morgandrawssstuff as part of the @twilight-secret-gift-exchange

There was quiet in the Cullen residence. A state that didn’t often occur. Save for the soft ticking of a clock, some fumbling of papers, and hushed words shared, the Cullen’s house was currently a place of peace.

Carlisle and Esme took the day off, something they didn’t often indulge. But after a few too many times of coming home stressed, they both agreed that something must be done. And this was the first step to that something.

With the kids in school, Carlisle and Esme had used the solitude to gather their thoughts and plan something for themselves.

“What about Paris?” Esme asked from the kitchen counter, flipping through another travel book. The surface was covered in a variety of country information pamphlets, brochures, and books.

Carlisle hummed in response, sitting across from Esme, looking over his own stack of information pamphlets. “Paris?” he repeated, a smile on his lips, “Romantic.”

Esme returned his smile, a small chuckle on her lips. “And I’ve heard the night life is quite wonderful.”

Nodding along, Carlisle grabbed a book on France, quickly flipping through to find the page on fauna. “There isn’t much large game close to the city, is there?” he asked, eyes grazing over the words on a particular page.

Esme shrugged. “There’s most likely rats in the city.”

The response earned a disapproved hum from Carlisle. “I don’t think I could do rats again.”

“You did it on our trip to New York.”

“Exactly.”

Despite the fluttering disappointment in her heart, Esme still managed to laugh at Carlisle’s response. “I thought you enjoyed our New York trip.”

Carlisle looked to Esme, gaze soft. It seemed he could tell by her tone that she was disheartened. “I absolutely enjoyed the trip. It was the rats that I didn’t love.” Esme hummed, seemingly about to say something, but Carlisle continued before she could. “You can’t deny it, either. Remember how we both felt sluggish and stiff a week in from our change of diet.”

After a moment, Esme sighed and nodded. “You’re right… rat blood is not ideal…” She trailed off, tapping her finger against another brochure. Carlisle was the one to speak up next.

“Why not just spend the month at Isle Esme?”

This was often a recurring point of conversation in any travel planning they make. Esme looked up at Carlisle, giving him the look that made him know she meant business.

“I go there when I want to relax and unwind. Where I don’t have to worry about anything. And I love it. I love going there. But for  this trip I want an adventure. I want to do something. There’s only so much of Isle Esme to explore before you know everything about it. I want something new.”

Carlisle hummed, looking back down at the papers in front of him and nodding. “Okay, okay, I understand..” he said, half in his thoughts to come up with a better offer. “We could still go south? Explore the rainforest?”

Esme hummed, sitting up in her seat at the offer. “Oh, that could be wonderful!” she said, reaching over to grab a book on the Amazon. “Tree coverage means we won’t have to worry about time of day.”

Carlisle nodded along, a smile on his face as it seemed they were settling on something. “And it’s large enough that we might not even run into anyone there anyway.”

Despite the initial excitement, there was a moment Esme wavered. She set the book down to look at Carlisle. “I don’t know about hunting in such a preserved location.”

That point made Carlisle hum in consideration. “That is fair…” he thought, furrowing his brow. He wanted to make this work. “We could bring our own? Preserve it for the trip and.. eugh-” Carlisle cut himself off, disapproving of his own solution. He shook his head, leaning back. This trip was supposed to help them de-stress. Instead, it seemed to be causing more of it.

Esme reached over again, this time taking Carlisle’s hand in hers. “Hey,” she said softly, causing Carlisle to look at her. Immediately, he began to relax again, the tension falling from his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out, okay?” she assured, giving his hand a squeeze.

Carlisle managed a smile back, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” he repeated, sitting forward again to look over the options. A comfortable silence fell between the two of them for a few moments, both considering what to offer next. Then, Carlisle spoke again, though this time, hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want to spend our time on Isle Esme?”

The question had Esme sighing, though there was a fond smile on her lips. She began to nod, quiet laughter leaving her lips. “You know what, yeah. I think Isle Esme might be the best option,” she agreed, pushing the brochures and pamphlets away. Even she had to admit that this planning was going nowhere.

Carlisle smiled, seemingly more at ease. “Oh, perfect. And we can still have our own little adventure on the Isle.”

That comment made Esme smile, looking to Carlisle. It felt as if a weight was  lifted now that they decided and agreed on a location to vacation. “I love you,” she said, hand still holding Carlisle’s.

Carlisle stood up from his seat, pulling Esme toward him for a kiss. When he broke away, he answered, “I love you too,” wrapping his arms around his wife to hold her. He swayed the two of them for a moment, looking down over the myriad of papers. “Now we just have to tell the kids.”

Esme hummed. “One thing at a time.”

[konstantynowitz]

Regulus Black (I) — son of Sirius Black (II) and Hesper Gamp

During the childhood of Regulus Black (I) his mother Hesper would encourage him to dress in women’s clothing, which he frequently tended to do. Regulus was known for his more feminine disposition compared to his elder brother Sirius, who embodied the traditional traits of masculinity that their family esteemed.

Regulus would attend balls and parties dressed in female attire, which was widely accepted amongst his family because it was seen to reduce any potential threat he may have posed to his elder brother’s claim as Head of House Black.

In his youth, Hesper would address him as her “sweet little girl” and shower him with affection, often brushing his hair and dressing him in elaborate gowns adorned with lace and ribbons.

The Blacks were very fond of French fashion so Regulus found himself immersed in the latest styles from Paris, even as a child. His mother would bring exquisite dresses and accessories, each piece a testament to the family’s wealth and status.

Only few would make a mockery of him for his “odd” feminine behaviors as they weren't something that French nobles hadn’t been exposed to before. In fact he appeared to be quite indifferent to those who chose to mock him, preferring to embrace his femininity without shame.

Regulus’s homosexuality was no secret. Unlike many wealthy pure-blood heirs of his time, he never hid who he was or even bothered trying to sneak around with the men he was bedding. His most well-known lover was Jasper Voclain, a charismatic and flamboyant man who was notoriously known for his manipulations within the Black family and self-indulgence.

Voclain was of French pure-blood nobility, much like Regulus and his family, but gained much more status and wealth through his association to the Blacks. It would be a lie if it was said that he didn't take advantage of his relationship with Regulus, since the young Black provided funds for his lover's extravagant lifestyle (and eccentric wardrobe).

He was an absolute headache for Regulus's elder brother Arcturus, who prided himself on maintaining the family’s reputation and upholding the traditions of their lineage. Jasper’s flamboyance and penchant for drama often clashed with Arcturus's desire for stability within the family.

On one occasion Voclain, during a ball for an inner circle of pure-blood elites, jumped up onto one of the tables and threatened to assassinate Arcturus as a joke. Of course, he wasn't serious about the threat and said it more as a jest than anything else, but when he raised his wand at the young heir of the Black family, Voclain was immediately detained and sent into house arrest.

Jasper would spend his time in an opulent manor, his only punishment being that he could not go beyond the estate's lands, nor could he have any contact with Regulus, whatsoever.

Arcturus knew that Jasper would have never even dared to kill him, especially in such a public setting, but he despised the man and ordered for his "imprisonment" to spite Voclain.

Soon enough, Jasper would be permitted to return back to society, not even feeling the slightest bit of shame for what he did at the party. He walked the streets of France with his head held high with many people not even paying notice to him as they were used to his antics at this point.

Without penalty, Voclain slipped back into his life with Regulus, his charm and entitled disposition remaining intact as he picked up where he left off with his lover (much to the chagrin of Arcturus who wished the leech would just disappear from his life for good).

Oftentimes, it seemed to Arcturus that Jasper was bleeding the Black family's coffers dry, indulging in extravagant parties, lavish gifts, and ostentatious displays. It frustrated him that Regulus was allowing this to happen, the man seemingly accepting how much of a financial burden his lover was becoming.

Eventually, Arcturus had enough and cut Jasper off of all financial access to the Black family fortune, forbidding Regulus to waste a penny on the man. The eldest Black brother's decision to keep at bay was a drastic measure, but one he felt was necessary to protect the family's reputation as people were starting to notice the House of Black allowing themselves to be taken advantage of by a simple pure-blood noble.

As a result, Voclain was left to continue his lavish lifestyle at his own expense, which would later cause him to whine and complain to Regulus about how he could "barely" support himself and was "hardly getting by" using his money alone.

Regulus knew that his lover was dramatizing his current situation, as Jasper did with most inconveniences he crossed paths with during his spoiled and entitled life. He had grown accustomed to Voclain’s flair for the theatrical, but this time it felt different. The melodrama was grating, pulling at the seams of Regulus’s patience.

“Regulus, you simply don’t understand!” Voclain exclaimed, pacing the room with exaggerated gestures. “I’m practically destitute! How can you possibly expect me to live in such a squalor?"

Regulus sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Jasper, you’re not destitute. You still have more than most. This is about making better choices, okay? Just stop overindulging.”

“Choices? You mean living like a peasant?” Voclain shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next? Shall we start brewing our own potions instead of buying them from the market?”

At this point Regulus is just done with his theatrical lover, rolling his eyes murmuring something along the lines of how Jasper has never even brewed a potion in his life before.

[watchmakerhippo]

What a cliche...

The first day of school went slowly in my opinion. Too much unnecessary talk, happy faces, rainbows and unicorns vomiting candies. Everyone acted like a typical cartoon character, making them look stupid. And everything seemed to go well: the morons didn’t infect me with their disease, the teacher didn’t complain about me, Edrickins... Ugh... God, what a terrible thing I said. Adrien Agreste gave me a minute of attention. It seemed like the day was not lost, but then HE appeared...

Stone emo...

I just didn't think remembering his name was important, okay? As if you would remember the name of some random NPC.

No need for judgmental looks, they won't affect me.

Basically, he had to ruin my day. Okay, so that brainless gorilla only had his sights set on that grey mouse, but no, [Name] Bourgeois has to pay for something. But for what? For saying my honest opinion? Well, fuck, should I keep quiet while they're whining here?

Let's face it, if he stopped being a villain the first time, why can't he do it a second time? People like him need to be isolated, not allowed to return to school, but do not support him in any way, saying that he is not guilty of anything. People! He! Is guilty! This son of the rock not only damaged the material property of Paris, but also maimed many residents, almost killing them. But these scum with IQ below the baseboard apparently live in a rosy world. I feel a little sorry for them.

To top off the awful day, some random woman showed up, having watched too many superhero cartoons, wearing a tight suit and a yo-yo that defies the laws of physics.

No, seriously? She decided to show up only now? What did she do before? There are so many crimes and problems in the world, and she showed up only for some supervillain.Okay, fine, maybe she got her powers recently, but why is the government treating it so calmly, like it's normal. God, I'm so disappointed with this city.

And her suit. It's as if it was created to highlight her, to show her off. If she's a superhero, shouldn't she have clothes that will easily hide her, rather than make her stand out?

Further questions, as always, are about physics. What is she even holding her yo-yo to? Air? There aren't many things to grab onto, and most aren't meant to support her weight. Everything about her is an open mockery of the laws of nature.

Why the hell am I studying physics then if there is a living example of its uselessness!?

And when she gave that fucking speech to that fucking man with a cuckoo face, who imagined himself to be the Great Villain of the Century, the world seemed to stop. She was standing at such a good angle, her voice was so loud that everyone could hear, and the police seemed useless after her words. It even seemed to me that the purple dude himself was slightly blown away by her. What is he like... Strange? Yes, strange, to put it mildly.

Well, he has one plus, he surpasses the Calendar Man in delusionalness!

Okay, I get the point, but I'm not done yet. In this crazy show, there is another pawn with the determination to become a hero and help people, without even knowing how. HE JUST STUPIDLY FOLLOWS HER WORDS, CAN'T HE TURN ON HIS BRAIN HIMSELF? OR HAS HIS SUBSCRIPTION TO SMART THOUGHTS ENDED?

There are no complaints about the color of his suit; black hides well in the shadows at night, and in everyday life it is more common than a red polka-dot suit. But... But his tail... How come his tail doesn't interfere with his movement? This appendage also makes him more vulnerable. I myself can grab this tail and pull it and that's it, goodbye, bye.

The funniest thing about him is that his weapon is a pipe from a vacuum cleaner. Or is it not a pipe? I don’t know what it is and how it can increase, and I don’t want to know.

Based on all this, I realized that Paris is not such a romantic place and it’s time to get the hell out of here.

It was with these thoughts and an ocean of determination that I went to the office of the mayor of Paris, aka Andre Bourgeois, aka my worthless father.

"No"

"What? What do you mean no? Are you kidding?"

The father's serious face did not waver. He was staring at me with such force with his dark gaze that I just wanted to get out of there and go to hell.

"No, young lady, you will stay in Paris with your father, period."

"You can't do that! Why did I work so hard, naming a thousand and one reasons why this city is complete shit?"

His tired sigh echoed and rebounded off the walls. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he changed his look from "I'm angry" to "I'm so tired of this rebellious child."

"Understand, darling, here, next to me, you are safe. I can give you anything you want, just snap my finger. And there? In other countries you will find yourself on foreign territory, where I will not be able to save you if anything happens."

What kind of daddy are you...

Hypocrite.

You act like you're cool, but as soon as something serious happens, you run with your heels flashing.Each time I understand more and more reasons for Audrey to leave you.

"Dad..."

"I don't want to hear any excuses, go to your room!"

How DARE he yell at me?

Gritting her teeth in anger, i turned around and quickly left, not wanting to be in her dad's company any longer.

Going back to college the next day was a terrible idea. Not only was I interrupted at the most interesting moment of my dream, but in the morning they also tortured me with hearts over the head of a small mouse and an emo rock. They just oozed that childish, innocent love that made me want to puke.

Another thing that happened was that the baker's daughter and Edri... Ahem... Ahem... Sorry. The baker's daughter and Adrien Agreste became friends. Well, or I just try to ignore her unblinking gaze at the blond.

But I'm more interested in what Adrian did to not only clear his reputation with the blue one, but also turn her from someone who doesn't know you into a rabid fan with stalker tendencies.

Can I have the instructions? This is not for me, it's for the dog. Just step by step, so that I know exactly what to do!

Okay, let's put jokes aside and think about more important issues. Firstly, these are ways to legally live in another country. I'm not an adult yet, they won't let me on the plane. My father doesn’t want to help me, Jean-Rousseau doesn’t have much power to organize a trip for me and withstand the mayor’s force. Lie about a class trip? He will believe it, but then I won’t be able to stay there for long. Running away is not an option, I am very dependent on my parents. Mostly in terms of money. Okay, I'll think about it the next time I have free time.

Another question I'm interested in is whether there will be another akumatized one? I had enough of walking minerals with stones, thank you, I don’t want such an experience again. We need to somehow protect ourselves from madhouse.

A call to class distracted me from my depressive thoughts.

Apparently I was wrong to think about another villain. Fucked Pygmalion effect! Or is it just a materialization of thoughts? Doesn't matter! Once again the whole day is ruined because of this impudent ragamuffin whose name I don’t know! Seriously, can you please show up every 2 months at least, not every day! I'll never finish college! And Paris will continue to suffer!

If I haven't gone crazy and everything I see is true, then with such frequent villains I will definitely go crazy! How do people tolerate this? Nobody, I repeat nobody, left the city after yesterday! This is so crazy!

Here, I need to give up any methods of fastening! A little lie never hurt anyone! Sorry, father, but my skin is more important than our relationship.

Masterlist

[cupidfilmed]

YOUTUBER DR INTRODUCTION

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❝ she’s got a book for every situation. gets into parties without invitations. how could u ever turn her down? ❞ - HS

HALO LANEE FRANCIS … born in paris france, is the eldest daughter of her parents Lucille and Adrien Francis, her only sibling being her much younger sister, Annie. currently, she resides in los angeles, california, around the block from her childhood bestfriends

THE STURNIOLOS … born and raised in boston, massachusetts, met halo on the first day of seventh grade after her moving to america. Nick was the first to introduce himself to her, almost immediately making jokes about baguettes. she met Matt the same day, confusing him for his identical brother she had already met, failing his attempt at flirting with her. she met Chris earlier on in the week while hanging out with nick at their house. oh my there’s three of them.. she thought. but what she didn’t think was that these three people would eventually become some of the most important people in her life.

YOUTUBE … has been a huge part of halo’s life since she started her channel at fifteen. she started off posting silly little school vlogs or day in the life’s, which blew up her channel almost immediately, addicting people with her natural humor and relatability. she had over one million subscribers in less than a year, leading her fame to grow even more, eventually becoming the youngest person on the cover of vouge. she is now known for long, comforting, funny vlogs on her everyday life. she posts twice a week, going back and forth from her main channel and her famous podcast, girl at home.

MATT & HALO … were best friends. they knew everything about eachother. of course they had a crush on eachother. in eighth grade, halo decided to tell nick about her huge crush on his brother. he was not surprised. it seemed as though everyone knew except them, she still made him swear not to tell anyone. in the same week, matt also informed nick on his huge crush on halo, and nick convinced matt to tell her, obviously without telling him that halo felt the same. matt had spent weeks planning out how he was gonna tell her, if he was going to ask to be her boyfriend, and every possible scenario that could follow. halo was oblivious. eventually, all of his plans crumbled down to a spur of the moment kiss, followed by a confession. and ever since then, matt and halo have been joined at the hip. friends to lovers, middle school sweethearts, and most of all best friends. as of twenty twenty three, their love has lasted an ongoing of 6 years.

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FUTURE FAME : this dr is set in march of 2023, and maybe i have gotten a little out of hand with scripting things for the future.. but anyway. for the barbie movie, i scripted that i made the song ‘what was i made for’. ive been known in my dr for loving singing and doing covers of other songs, sometimes i would post an original song on my tiktok but never release it. i did choir and theater all throughout middle school and highschool so singing has always been apart of my life, but i never did anything about it.

until greta gerwig, the director of barbie, approached me about doing a song for barbie. i, of course, said yes and then made and released my first song, ‘what was i made for’. during this time, and since 2021, i had been filming for wicked, which is how greta found me (through the director of wicked). from doing theater throughout school, some would classify me as a ‘theater kid’.. so ‘Wicked’ has been my favorite musical my whole life and i’ve always, even though i didn’t have many intentions of acting, dreamt of playing the role of glinda.

when the auditions came in 2021, i did everything i could to prepare my voice. i ended up getting the role for the 2025 movie, Wicked, as Glinda. i was ecstatic. over the time of filming, i became really close with my co-star, cynthia erivo. since we had an age gap, she was like a second mother to me.

but fast forward to may of 2024, slowly wrapping up wicked. i had unexpectedly released the hit single, ‘espresso’. my song immediately topped the charts and my fame in singing only grew. about a month later, i had release my third single, feather, also topping charts. i knew that i wanted to keep my priorities on youtube so i decided that instead of releasing albums and being in many movies, i would release a handful of songs throughout a year and maybe be in one movie. i was only planning on releasing the two singles and a christmas song at the end of the year, but the netflix show, bridgerton, approached me for a song in their show.

(for background) i scripted that in the book, two main characters had a famously very very romantic ball room scene, just them, dancing together in the big empty room, to a slow passionate song. the directors of bridgerton wanted to make this scene into the show just as good as it was written, so they came to me to write them a good slow and romantic song. in september, i wrote and released the song ‘wildest dreams’. it quickly became a hit for the vulnerable yet yearning like lyrics.

quick skip to november, wicked comes out and immediately breaks records. my fame grows exponentially. i follow out with my original plan of releasing the christmas song, ‘buy me presents’ in late november. but, a christmas song i wrote when i was like 12 got leaked and went widespread, ‘is it new years yet?’. so, mostly due to peer pressure LOL, i release the song early december.

that’s basically it for my singer-actress side hustle LOL. you’re welcome for the extremely and unnecessary description. assuming nobody is reading this far, i’m gonna stop yapping :)

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other posts about this dr

inspired by @laylasverse