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#Desires and Honesty (IC)
iniziare · 3 months
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Tag drop: Solas
#solas. [ what would you have had me say? that i was the great adversary in your people's mythology? ]#solas: ic. [ the dread wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies. not unlike “inquisitor” i suppose. ]#solas: inquiries. [ let me help you. / you cannot. there is no glory here. only a price that i alone will pay. ]#solas: countenance. [ i was solas first. “fen'harel” came later. an insult i took as as a badge of honor. ]#solas: introspection. [ war breeds fear. fear breeds a desire for simplicity. good and evil. right or wrong. chains of command. ]#solas: meta. [ just remember; an enemy can attack but only an ally can betray you. betrayal is always worse. ]#solas: little notes. [ but nature is and always has been; grey. a spirit is a purpose. a demon is that purpose perverted. ]#solas: wishes. [ i walk the din'anshiral. there is only death on this journey. i would not have you see what i become. ]#solas: etc. [ i have people; seeker. the greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people. ]#solas: mythal. [ they killed her. a crime for which an eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment. ]#solas: elvhenan. [ imagine beings who lived forever for whom magic was as natural as breathing. that is what was lost. ]#solas: fade. [ everything is a memory; they are easily muddied. they contain truths but reason and sense are required to extract it. ]#solas: skyhold. [ there is a place that waits for a force to hold it. there is a place where the inquisition can build… grow. ]#solas: inquisition. [ you created a powerful organization. and now it suffers the inevitable fate of such; betrayal and corruption. ]#solas: inquisitor. [ you would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better? what if it isn't? ]#solas: vhenan. [ what is the old dalish curse? “may the dread wolf take you”? ]#solas: dorian. [ is that a problem for you? / no. no. you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream. ]#solas: varric. [ you know what i like about you? your boundless optimism. / it's comforting that what qualities i lack; you invent. ]#solas: cassandra. [ i am impressed by your honesty and faith. it is a difficult path; but if anyone can walk it honourably. you can. ]#solas: cole. [ never forget your purpose; cole. it is a noble one. even if this world does not understand. ]#solas: vivienne. [ i leave you with the greatest curse of my people. dirthara ma. / what rustic curse is that? / 'may you learn.' ]#solas: blackwall. [ you have seen a great deal of battle. / we all have. / not like you. you live and breathe war. it's home to you. ]#solas: sera. [ i suppose now you’ll switch to how i’m the same but different? / you are the furthest from what you were meant to be. ]#solas: bull. [ what you think is what you say and do. / even peasants may find freedom in the safety of thought; you take even that. ]
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progeniterror · 1 year
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tag dump
answered / ic. starters / ic. open / ic. headcanons / ooc. meta / ooc.
musings / what is a legacy and what does it mean when you can't control it? ch. study / completely normal and extremely dangerous. face / attractiveness can do more for you than honesty. likes / i'm not fucking reviewing it on letterbox. aesthetic / buck 120s and disney princesses. ship inspo / and i feel and i feel when the dogs begin to smell her will she smell alone? wardrobe / party city owes me money for all the shitty costumes i helped sell. desires / i always get what i want.
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sp4ceboo · 6 months
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Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader
A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea
tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie
wc: 3.9k
headcanons for this universe
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When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.
Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.
As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.
You wished he hated you.
That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.
Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.
It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.
Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.
During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.
It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.
You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.
The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.
Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.
Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.
You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.
So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.
To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.
Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.
Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.
Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.
There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.
Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.
Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.
‘What are you doing, wife?’
Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.
‘So now I am of concern to you?’
Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.
Something clicks into place.
Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.
It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.
Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?
Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.
Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.
Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -
Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.
He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’
After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.
‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’
You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.
Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.
You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.
You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.
He believes he will love you, if you will let him.
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Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.
Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.
When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.
‘I owe you an explanation.’
You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.
‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’
Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.
‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.
He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’
Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.
Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.
‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.
He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’
A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’
You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.
‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’
‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.
Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.
You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.
The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.
You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.
‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.
You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.
The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.
Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.
He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.
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ninelivesastrology · 1 month
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Mmm... this may rub people the wrong way, but I've been thinking about it and read this twice before trying to argue, but I think one of the ways to remediate a Venus-Saturn aspect is moving on quickly from a relationship. One of the worst things you can do as a Venus-Saturn person is to devote years of your life to the wrong person because you believe you shouldn't be in love again or that you won't find another person.
Closing your heart off and isolating yourself is just reinforcing the aspect at that point.
And this is not a hit at anybody on a celibacy journey (because that is valid and very Venus-Saturn). And mind you, a lot of women move on mentally way before ending the relationship, but nobody will account for that time. I think the moment you start wanting to be with another person is the moment your relationship is over and your relationship is on thin ice at that point. So imagine being in a relationship for five years and two years ago, you wanted to leave because you recognized you didn't deserve the way you were being treated...
I think a lot of Venus-Saturn women hold a lot of fear towards ending a relationship. It's not always about being alone the way other people perceive it to be. It's also about internalized misogyny and shame. Men are damn near encouraged to move on while in their relationships and marriages, but let a woman move on after separation without giving 15 years of her life up to a partner who only contributes 20% of effort to the woman's 80%. She'll be exiled. You were supposed to stick it out. It's always on the woman to ensure she gets forever.
Venus-Saturn women also forget that dating is supposed to be fun and it doesn't have to be about sex because that isn't the only way to bond with another person. It doesn't have to be deep and serious and all-consuming—though with Saturn, it can be. I mean, do whatever you want because in all honesty, Venus is the planet of desire and with Saturn in play, you will feel guilty about what you want and settle. It's the self-inflicted denial for me.
I want to mention how partners of Venus-Saturn people do anything they can to prevent them from moving on. Fear, obligation, and guilt is the Saturn playbook.
Saturn stalls whatever planet it touches and sometimes, you're the person blocking your love life. You're the person rejecting any opportunity of love. You think you got forever and you don't.
Saturn is the iceberg that sinks the Titanic. Don't be stuck at the bottom of the ocean. Keep sailing.
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whoreteen · 1 year
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Lick!
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you and Seokmin have a weekly routine — watching crappy movies together, cuddling and pining after each other. of course, neither of you have the guts to make the first move. that is until you decide to deepthroat a popsicle during movie night l, teasing Seokmin until he loses all self control; which essentially is your ultimate goal.
☼ word count: 3k ☼ pairing: dk x fem reader ☼ genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, roommate!au ☼ warnings: food play, degradation, praise kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of pet names. lmk if i missed anything
m.list | ☕️ | feedback | minors dni | if you read it & enjoy it, reblog it
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You know exactly how to rile your roommate, Seokmin, up and you’re always doing it on purpose. He knows it, you know it and, you love every second of it.
He usually plays along with you, but you never goes past just flirting.
Admittedly, you want more, a part of you wants him to give you what you want, yet all he does is tease back to frustrate you. You crave more, you need more — so you figure what better way to shoot your shot than during movie night when you’re all cuddled up?
Seokmin comes back from the kitchen, handing you a popsicle and a bowl of popcorn before taking a seat right next to you.
“What movie did you pick?”
“Troll 2,” you reply, silently thanking him for the snacks you specifically asked for as he scoots closer to you, pushing his own popsicle into his mouth.
He smiles with a happy hum as the cherry flavor melts into his mouth before getting comfy on the couch, and putting a blanket on you.
You try to ignore the electricity pulsing in your body when he slides a hand under your shirt and rubs small, soothing circles into your skin, causing sparks to erupt all over your skin. Seokmin always has his way of doing this to you — effortlessly making your heart flutter and hammer in your chest when he’s not even trying to. Electricity and such desire you just can’t to turn a blind eye to no matter how hard you seem to try.
Not even minutes later, you catch yourself staring up at the pretty boy beside you instead of paying attention to the movie. You’re too busy stealing glances at him and it doesn’t calm your heart when you catch him doing the same to you, his eyes lingering for moments longer than they shouldn’t have. You immediately look away and gaze ahead at the screen, pretending to watch the movie.
A soft chuckle leaves Seokmin’s lips and you look up at him, confused. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he beams, lightly shaking his head. “You’re just cute.”
You raise a perfectly arched eyebrow at his words, a mischievous smile on your lips a few seconds after. Sure, you love it when he calls you cute but it’s not what you want to hear right now. You want him so deep in your guts and you want him to think you’re hot, sexy, tempting.
Unbeknownst to you, the feelings are very mutual.
Of course you don’t know how huge of crush Seokmin has on you or how attracted he is to you. But, you do know he has an oral fixation as he always seems to stare at your mouth when he thinks you’re not aware; you intend to take advantage of that.
The only thing on your mind right now is to see how far you can take teasing him before he (hopefully) decides to fuck your brains out.
Smirking to yourself, you begin slurping on your popsicle, innocently, but enough to make him look as you continue to ‘focus’ on the movie.
You can feel his heated eyes on you. In all honesty, you’re sure you look tempting; you’re even more sure when you feel shifting in his seat and his hand slowly tracing its way down to your hips. His eyes are inevitably drawn down to mouth, burning with something. And, you know what they say: eyes never lie.
You continue your sinful actions, paying him no mind, and he intensely watches the ice pop slide into your mouth and then out, as it is his dick.
Your lips envelop the cherry flavored popsicle, red and lustrous as you push it further into your waiting mouth. You suck at it chastely before getting a bit sloppy, even letting some drops fall on your exposed cleavage and, Seokmin can’t help but lick his lips — wanting so badly to lick the drops from your skin.
“My eyes are up here you know,” you tease, and before he can respond, you pull the popsicle in and out of your mouth a few times, a long trail of melted flavored cherry, and saliva following.
Your roommate blinks once. Twice. “W-what?” he asks, taken by surprise.
“You’re staring, Seokmin,” you quip between popsicle licks.
“What’s the matter, baby? You’re blushing and stuttering,” you coo, nonchalantly pulling the popsicle out of your mouth with a pop. Seokmin feels his cock twitch when he’s sees the spit string. It’s almost downright obscene and he can’t help but bite his lip. There’s just no way you’re not aware of what you’re doing to him and, it takes everything in Seokmin’s willpower to not pin you down on the couch and, have his way with you.
He hums absentmindedly, still carelessly staring at your mouth and pouty lips. You have a straight up filthy look in your eyes, and Seokmin can feel himself getting lightheaded as the blood from his brain rushes to his dick.
He swallows a large lump in his throat before speaking, “I can’t help it,” he says, his voice gravelly. “Fuck. Stop that.”
Staring into his eyes, you have to stop the overwhelming urge to lean in for kiss. “You don’t like it?”
“Stupid question. Of course I do,” he scoffs. It’s so easy to rile him up. “You look so sexy sucking on that but it’s not good for my heart. If you keep teasing me like this, I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”
Every time your tongue darts out to lick at the treat, he feels his cock twitch and his heart swell. All he wants is to grab that popsicle and replace it with his cock; fuck your face as his dick slips past those pretty soft, little lips so fucking badly.
“If you’re horny, just tell me.”
He sucks in a breath. “I am. Wanna fuck?”
“Perv!”
“Says the one deepthroating an ice pop,” he scoffs.
“I’m not,” you retort, as you give another lick to your popsicle, considering your next move. “Let me show you how deepthroating is really done.”
You don’t have to contemplate for long as you take the whole thing in your mouth, red tinted, wet lips wrapped around it. You begin deepthroating it, imagining it’s his cock as you moan around the ice pop.
You stop for a moment, licking your lips, and open your mouth to say, “Come on, Seok, use your words and tell me what you want.”
“You,” he finally replies like it’s so obvious, sending even more electric shocks to your center. “I want you.”
“Hmm,” you tease with a smirk. “I gotta say, I really wish I had something better to lick than this popsicle.”
“Yeah? Wanna suck my cock the same way?” he purrs.
You nod your head, continuing your ministrations.
“What a fucking whore,” he groans as he cups your cheek and lets his thumb run across it slowly. “You planned this, didn’t you? Are you that desperate for my cock?”
“I’ve always wanted to climb you like a tree since the first day, so yes, definitely.”
Seokmin traces your lips with his thumb, teasing you a little before finally replacing the ice pop with one of his long fingers, and then another, sliding them in your mouth.
“I bet you’d love me to fuck that pretty face of yours,” he rasps. “You’d take it like the little whore you know you are, wouldn’t you, angel?”
You nod vigorously as you begin sucking on his digits, gently hollowing your cheeks.
He lets out a groan, his eyes darkening with lust as he watches you drool all over his fingers. “Fuck, I’m going to ruin you.”
You have to swallow back your whimper.
“God, you’re so—” he starts, his moist fingers gently running over your wet, parted lips, your cheeks, down your neck, pausing to hold your throat, “so fucking perfect. You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he groans before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, officially stalling your little brain. “I wanted to fuck you since the first time I met you.”
One of his fingers traces down the side of your face, making your eyelids flutter. The gentle, sweet touch to your skin instantly makes your cheeks heat up — his words, though, sends shivers down your spine and you feel a tinge of heat in your core.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head back before swooping in to lick a long stripe up your neck. Your only response is a moan.
“What, cat got your tongue?” he teases as he places open mouthed kisses to your neck, making sure to leave hickeys. “You were acting like such a brat with all that teasing. Not so brave now, hmm?”
You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out, your brain going all mushy. Seokmin finally kisses you and you feel yourself get dizzy and completely lost in him, not able to bring yourself to process his words in time to react properly as he bites on your bottom lip lightly.
Once he pulls away, you’re the same color as your half eaten popsicle, cherry red.
It only take a couple seconds before Seokmin stops fighting the urge to push you down on the couch, and pin your hands above your head as his frame hovers above you. His lips melts against yours in yet another kiss as he kisses you sloppily, the taste of cherry lingering in your mouths, both your popsicles and the movie long forgotten.
He breaks the kiss not long after, trailing soft, loving kisses from the corner of your lips to your cheek, before asking, “Are you sure about this?” His voice changes drastically to a soft tone, fondness and pure love showing in his actions.
You whine some sort of yes, finding yourself chasing his lips and Seokmin can’t help but beam in delight.
“Good, because I’ve never want to fuck you more than I do now.”
He pulls you in for a kiss and you try your best to regulate your breathing, but when he groans into the kiss and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, all you see is red. You roll your hips into him and Seokmin lets out a grunt as his grip strengthens on your hip in response.
He lets his body grind down hard against you as he surges forward to kiss you harder with greedy lips, almost bruising. The kiss is messy, urgent, and intimate in a way you just can’t explain. It is way too eager and desperate for being a first kiss between the two of you, but, in Seokmin’s eyes it was bound to happen. He’s been anticipating this ever since he first laid eyes on you.
You feel his erection straining against his boxers as he guides your hips to align against his own, grinding against you. You feel yourself yourself growing with want.
“Seokmin,” you whine, your voice breathy as you give him that delectable bambi eyed look. “Touch me.”
He looks down, meeting your hazy and glossy eyes that spell nothing but intense desire and want. “Can I?”
You think your knees may give out as you squirm against his hold. “Please. I want you so bad.”
You feel his long fingers run across your inner thigh, dipping so close to your sensitive heat, where you most need him, and you can’t help but push your hips forward for more. Seokmin huffs a brief chuckle, gently tracing his fingers across your covered, twitching clit before finally pushing your panties to the side and pushing one finger in, then another.
He can’t help but groan at the fact that you’re already so wet, and so ready for him that he almost snaps. “Fuck, baby, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”
A loud gasp leaves your mouth, making Seokmin smile.
“Like that, huh?” he teases lightly as he skilfully curls his digits, adding a third finger whilst he whispers words of encouragement and praises you. “Does it feel good?”
You moan and Seokmin feels his cock twitch in his boxers at the little, soft noises escaping you and the way your toes curl. “S-so good. Please, don’t stop.”
“Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?” he tsks. “Look at you, already pushing back against my fingers. How fucking pathetic.”
You arch your back and let out a whine when he slaps your swollen clit with his fingers, once, then twice before beginning to pump his fingers with more force, curling them. “Aw, my pretty baby’s already whining? I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
Teasing you like this has always been on Seokmin’s mind, but never did he didn’t think you would want to take it this far. God, how he wishes he can take a mental image of this moment.
He starts leaving wet kisses down to your collarbone and between your breasts, his scent and airy tone invading every inch of your shaky frame. You feel his free hand travelling around your body to unhook your bra so that your breasts are exposed to his lustful gaze.
Seokmin cups your breast with his free hand, grazing his thumb over the nub which earns him a needy whine. As he moves his fingers around your walls, his fingertips grazing your g-spot, you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. You feel like you’re on cloud nine. It feels too good to be a true, and if this is a dream, you don’t ever wanna wake up.
Moving his lips downwards, he takes one nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking until you’re putty in his hands. Then he shifts his attention to the other breast, loving the way your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently whenever he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
You moan in delight as your back arches off the couch, wanting more. “S-Seokmin, please, I want more.”
Hearing you ask so nicely makes him smirk. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re needy.”
He presses a gentle kiss on your lips before scooting down your body and settling between your legs. His warm hands run up your thigh and hikes your skirt up to your waist, placing one of your legs on his shoulder. You can’t help but cover your face in embarrassment.
“No no, I want to see you, baby, don’t cover your face,” he says, his voice holding a certain degree of authority that makes you stop in your tracks. He places gentle, soft kisses on your inner thigh, before cooing, “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
You don’t need to hear it. You already know he will.
Seokmin reaches to pull your underwear down, discarding it somewhere over his shoulder before reaching for the half-melted popsicle. He slowly runs it along your thigh to start, not wanting to startle you too much as praises you with soothing licks.
“You’re so beautiful…” he praises, his voice impossibly deep, almost a growl as he disappears between your legs. “All flushed and spread out like this. Just for me… Let me see those pretty eyes.”
You bite your lip harshly, trying your best to stop yourself from screaming when you feel his mouth on your clit. The combination of Seokmin’s warm tongue and the cold popsicle is unlike anything you’re experienced and your hips can’t help but buck off the couch, but Seokmin pins you down with his hand.
“You taste like fucking candy,” he groans against your heat. “I could eat you out all day and night.”
He continues licking and kissing your wet folds, pressing the popsicle against your clit as his fingers curl in search of your sweet spot. He knows he has found it when you begin spasming underneath him, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your wetness easily coats his fingers, only encouraging him to move faster.
As he pushes his face further into your cunt, he tries his best to gain some sort of control, ignoring the intrusive thoughts of his cock inside you, filling you up just right.
“S-seok, fuck, right there,” you nearly scream, Seokmin revelling in your noises as he pairs his curling fingers with the popsicle, wrapping his lips around your clit.
“Feels good? You sound so prettily.”
Each lick and each thrust of his fingers causes you to lose track of time and space and you can’t help but feel the tears pooling in your eyes. “God, yes, it feel s-so good. Keep going just like t-that.”
Seokmin eagerly obliges, his entire arm pumping as he presses his fingers harder and faster into your g-spot whilst he sucks harshly on your clit with his skilled tongue, slurping up the melted popsicle juice mixed with your arousal.
“Don’t cum yet, baby.”
You cry out in pleasure and start to babble incoherently, turning into a crying mess as he sucks on your clit like a lollipop, until you begin to shake, quivering uncontrollably as you scream his name like a mantra. You’re immensely grateful for the grip he has on you as your knees are on the verge of giving out.
“You’re doing so good, baby girl, you look so pretty for me. Just keep going like this, okay angel?” he whispers breathily, his fingers and tongue begins to match the pace of your rocking hips.
“S-Seok, nngh fuck,” you cry, twitching as he leaves bite marks alongside the many other bruises that litter your body from his mouth. “Please, please, please, can I cum?” you whimper, not caring how pathetic you must sound; the only thing that’s on your mind right now is your release. “I-I want to, fuck, cum s-so bad.”
“Then cum,” he says and that’s all it takes, your orgasm hitting you so hard as you let out a broken moan.
Seokmin helps you ride out your intense orgasm, and he moans, huskily at that, against your heat upon seeing your tear stained face. “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.”
He doesn’t stop though, continuing to suck and lick your sensitive nub and devouring you faster until you’re practically shaking. Your back arches as Seokmin draws out your orgasm for as long as he can until you come for a second time.
Then he gazes up at up, a mixture of your arousal and his spit glistening on his chin and dripping down his defined jaw as he removes his fingers and cleans the them with his mouth, groaning at your sweet taste.
“My turn?” he asks teasingly.
And, who are you to deny such a heartfelt request. “Your wish is my command.”
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allfearstofallto · 5 months
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A Boon from the Tsaritsa
Arlecchino x Fem! Reader
A/N: Reader is a simp
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She's beautiful from all angles. That's the only thought that's running through your mind as you kneel before her. Her haunting beauty is a sight to behold, her face like that of an angel. Or maybe, a demon, with the way she tempts you. Even the look of disinterest, of lack of care for you, sends a chill of adoration up your spine. All it took was one glance at her in passing and you were absolutely smitten.
“I was told you requested me personally?” She spoke, her voice echoing off the wall and sending a familiar tingle to your groin. Her words, spoken coldly like ice, made your heart beat even faster in your chest.
“Yes, Sir! I did,” you stuttered back enthusiastically. Her dark eyes were on you and you could feel them practically melting through your skin. And the feeling was euphoric. Her painful gaze was like heaven to you and you wished to bask in it, if only her impatience with you wasn't so palpable, “I did well on the previous mission, sir, as I'm sure you've heard. I'm actually the sole survivor of it. I was told by the Tsaritsa herself that I could have any gift I desire for my job well done.”
Arlecchino cocked an eyebrow, crossing one of her gorgeous legs over the other. The way her thighs squished against the heavy fabric of her pants had you nearly drooling, your eyes tracing up and down her long legs to where the heel of her shoe where she tapped her foot against the marble floor, “I'm assuming you have something you want from my orphanage then, seeing as you asked for me. I do not give my children up, if that's what you're asking for, so I suggest calling on someone else for your ‘reward,”
“I want nothing of the sort,”
“Is that so?” She hummed.
“What I want is something only you can give me,”
“And that is?”
Your eyes fell upon her lips. Plump and wet with gloss. The natural pink shade making them stand out against her pale skin. They were pressed together in a frown, but even that displeasing expression excited you, “I want a kiss. From you.”
She was dumbfounded for a moment, you could see the slightest change in her expression, then she went back to her neutral expression, trying to pretend that what you’d asked for wasn't phasing her. She waved her hands, shooing the other Fatui guards out of the room and they left with little sound, their feet sounding like little patters of rain against the floor.
“A boon from the Tsaritsa is not an easy thing to acquire. People typically ask for things like land or status,”
“I'm aware,”
“Yet, you're giving it all up for a peck on the lips?”
When she said it like that, you did feel a little stupid. But you were steadfast in your ways and insistent on what you wanted. Her lips plagued your dreams day and night. And passing her on your way to assignments made you mentally curse whatever fate kept her from being your superior. Although, you doubted you'd get any work done if you had the opportunity to ogle at her as much as you pleased.
“I do not feel as if I'm wasting my boon, I've wanted this for a very long time,” affirmation coated your words, showing that you meant every bit of them. 
Maybe she could feel that. Feel your honesty in the way you spoke. In the way you look up at her with admiration. Most would be upset that they were made to kneel, yet, you dropped to the floor before her without any hesitation the second the order left her mouth. 
You watched her feet as she stepped towards you, her heels clicking against the floor. She cupped your face, just beneath the chin. You'd never touched her before, how could you? But the feeling of her gloved hands against your skin, of her sharp nails practically testing your flesh, it was euphoric. 
Bending over at the waist, she pressed her lips against yours. You would've melted into a puddle right there, had it not been for her firm grip on your cheeks. She tasted sweeter than you expected, but her lips were as soft as you'd dreamt of. Her smell up close was intoxicating, and even though you would've been more than satisfied with just her lips, you felt her tongue forcing its way into your mouth.
The way she kissed was dominating. It was suffocating. It was heavenly. You let her do whatever she desired, practically sitting there like a ragdoll for her to toy with. You wanted to remember every bit of her taste, the feeling of her lips. Her touch. You savored it, whining in sorrow when she pulled away, her lips wet with your saliva.
“Do well again,” Arlecchino spoke in a hushed whisper right against the shell of your ear, “So you can get another.”
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duc-kie · 8 months
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Hiiiii, can you write how Lando would react if you were oberworking yourself? Can do sfw/nsfw (I dont mind 🤫) and maybe like a hcs or oneshot, whatevers easier. Lovess 💋💋
honesty as a perfectionist I overwork myself A LOT especially in school so I absolutely adored writing this request - and bc it’s Lando ofc🤭
I decided to do hcs and include sfw as well as nsfw (⭐️). this turned out to be longer than I anticipated but I’m definitely not complaining.
hope you enjoy xx
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• Lando knows what it feels like to overwork yourself so he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
• (depending on your preferences) he’d make you a hot bubble bath with tons of candles to light the room. he’d spread rose petals all over the bathroom. he’d even buy you a ton of skincare stuff: face masks, lip masks, eye patches etc. and your favourite snacks and drinks. he’d set up your favourite movie on a laptop and put it next to the bath. he’d get in the bath with you if you wanted him to.
⭐️the bathing together would quickly turn into passionate little touches and kisses on your neck and shoulders. his hands would delicately run up and down your sides. when you completely give in and lean back to lay on his shoulder and close your eyes, his big hands start slowly massaging you tits. heavy breaths and quiet little moans and whimpers leave your mouth and your boyfriend is making you forget about all the stress your mind was filled with before. this slow and sensual touches soon enough turn into you riding him in the bath with him guiding you with his hands on your hips.
• or he’d clear his schedule and plan out a whole day for you two to enjoy. he’d take you to do your favourite activities like ice skating or horseback riding or just whatever he knew you liked and then he’d take you shopping. he would buy anything you wanted for you no matter how expensive it was. afterwards he’d take you to a restaurant and enjoy a fancy dinner date with only you. it’s no surprise when he pulls out a little velvet box with a pink bow on it just for you to open it and see a gorgeous necklace inside. after the dinner you were beaming with happiness when you sat in his car to go back home. the whole drive you kept telling him how amazing this day was and how grateful you are for everything he’s done for you.
⭐️Lando could barely keep his eyes on the road when you were sitting right next to him with such big eyes and a short dress that fit your body perfectly. the dress has been distracting Lando the whole day and all he could think about was taking it off. he reached his hand to rest it on your thigh. he was slowly massaging your smooth skin, working his way up your leg. you quickly figured out what he was trying to do and the bulge in his pants was impossible to miss. you decided to tease him a little because why not, this was a perfect opportunity for you to have some fun. your hand made it’s way to his bulge. you were barely touching it and you could see the look of annoyance on Lando's face. when you squeezed the bulge his eyes went blank. he immediately pulled over and undid his seatbelt, getting out of the car. he opened your door, undid your seatbelt as well and and guided you out of the car. in just a second you were bent over his car with your panties at your ankles while he was pounding into you with such desire. his cold hands on your back and the hot kisses on your shoulders tipped you over the edge sooner than you thought. it didn't take him long to do the same, filling you up. he turned you around and proudly watched his cum drip down your legs from below the dress.
• classic: a movie night. he’d go to the store and buy tons of snacks, drinks, and face masks for the two of you. he’d put on your favourite movie and prepare the blankets and the hot cocoa. you two would cuddle the whole night watching the movie with face masks, drinking hot cocoa and eating chocolate covered strawberries.
⭐️half way into the movie a sex scene comes on. it was brief but long enough to make you turn around to look at Lando. he looked back at you with a smirk and kissed you. he repositioned you to sit on his lap before shoving his tongue down your throat. you’ve both completely forgotten the movie by now. you pulled away to catch your breath and Lando was quick to take the opportunity and turn you around so that he was on top of you. he took his sweet time taking your clothes off while making sure to kiss and touch all of the sweet spots he knew drove you crazy. "Lando, please" you pleaded. he lightly laughed and moved on to strip himself. he got a condom out of his bedside drawer and slid it on. he entered you with a sharp breath, moving his hips slowly. one of his hands pinned your hands above your head while the other held you still by the waist. his movements quickened over time. after you both finished you collapsed in each others arms and fell asleep.
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stories-and-chaos · 6 months
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Shrike: Body Count
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[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. I’ve been seeing some stories about Alastor not having understanding the slang for ‘body count,’ so here’s my take.]
[Word count: 1426 Cw: language]
—————
“Really Angel? That’s your bonding activity for the day?” Vaggie’s single eye glared at the lanky spider.
“Whaaaaaat? Charlie wants us to share intimate secrets!” Angel Dust’s voice was full of seductive mischief. “Body count is a very intimate secret. Tells you a lot about someone.”
“Angie’s right!” A cheerful voice called from across the parlor. Cherri Bomb, the hotel’s newest sort-of-resident, didn’t seem much interested in redemption for herself. She did however have a genuine desire to help Angel and to defend what Sir Pentious gave his life for. The busty cyclops was teaming up with Vaggie as part of the Hazbin Hotel’s basic security.
She also had a mischievous streak wider than her friend’s. “I’ll start, give ya a hand Angie.” Angel snorted a laugh saying, “I’ve already got six toots!” She threw an ice cube from her drink at him. “One thousand eight hundred and twenty…” she paused to count on her fingers, “six. Most o’ that’s from Hell. I got to thirty-one before I died.” She leaned back on her couch, looking very satisfied.
Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer could only stare for a moment. “Whoo, nice going Cherri! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint,” Angel crowed. “Lesse here, before I died it was six. After that…” he did some quick math on his phone, “about 90,000? I’m sure we can review my body…of work to confirm.” He grinned lavisciously.
Charlie waved her hands rapidly. “Nope! No no no no no thank you Angel, you’ve shown us plenty that of that during ‘show and tell’ day.” Lucifer looked vaguely disappointed at missing out so Angel resolved to sneak a copy of his favorite performances to the king of Hell.
Charlie continued, forgetting her dad was in the room. “Mine is six,” she said with a shy air, her pale complexion turning bright red.
“WHAT?” Lucifer spat out his tea.
“Oh shit! Dad!” Charlie was flustered but did her best to compose herself. “I mean, I’m over 200 years old now, I’ve been living on my own for decades!” She took her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it. “Besides, Vaggie is the only one that matters now.” The long haired angel gave her a watery look.
“Well…I guess you’re right sweetheart. So long as they all treated by little girl right?” Lucifer asked with an edge to his voice. At Charlie’s nod he said “Good.” He took a sip of tea before providing his number. “Seventeen.”
“Dad?! I thought…you and Mom…what?!”
Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell Charlie. But your mother knows about all of them. She was even there for some.” He grinned wickedly, looking completely like the king of Hell for once.
Charlie buried her face in her hands while Vaggie rubbed her back in sympathy. “Not too shabby short king. Okay Vags, you’re up!” Vaggie glared at him and flipped him off. “Just our fearless leader?” Angel teased. She huffed, glanced back and forth, and held up her index finger as she blushed. “Thank you for your honesty, Vagina. Huskiekins, how about you?” Angel turned around on the couch to face the bar as Vaggie bristled.
Husk sighed as he continued polishing glasses. “Three when I was alive. Nine since I died.” He was fully prepared for Angel to say something like “Wanna make it ten?” but he just received four thumbs up from the somewhat reformed demon.
“Apologies for our lateness,” your voice called from the elevator. “Alastor had to rewrap my wing this morning.” You and your husband walked arm in arm to the group, with Alastor making sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat. Once he was ensconced in the wingback chair, long legs crossed politely, Lucifer popped up to inspect your wing.
“Hm, not bad.” He had you stretched it gently and gave Alastor an approving nod. “Good work deer boy.”
“Oh ho, of course my good fellow!” The lack of static filter on his voice was the most display of annoyance he would give at the moment. He hated the idea of any man touching you, much less Lucifer Morningstar. But he knew he didn’t know how to help your wing injuries without the fallen angel’s help. “I am a quick study after all! Can’t let my darling rely on someone that might not be around, hm?” His smile widened as Lucifer’s growl showed his comment hit home. “So! What are we discussing today, chums?”
“Ooooh, this is gonna be good,” Cherri giggled as Angel replied. “Body count, Smiles. Before and after death for the Sinners in the group. So, what about you and the missus?”
“An odd topic, but alright. You’ve kept a better count than me, cher. If we count the one right before our death mine is seventy-four?” Jaws dropped at your statement.
“That sounds correct. I had eighteen before we met, and a few solo after our initial encounter. That makes ninety-seven for myself,” he said, looking up to calculate mentally. “I believe after my arrival here, my count is five thousand thirty-one. Give or take a dozen.”
You nodded as Cherri breathed “hooooly shiiiiiit,” with an impressed look. “Mine is still more modest, four thousand six hundred and two. Again, give or take a dozen. Of course, about half of those we did together.”
Alastor hummed in satisfaction. “Oh ho, yes that’s true. Would that increase or decrease our original counts? Or should we have a separate list for couples?”
“Fuck me, I didn’t think they were capable of that,” Cherri said in awe. Lucifer blinked one eye, then the other as his brain tried to catch up. Charlie had her hands over her ears and Vaggie was rubbing her temples. On the other hand, Angel and Husk were sharing a confused look.
“Doll face, Smiles, what kind of body count are ya talking about?” He remembered the discussion about your sexual preferences and the numbers didn’t add up. The simultaneous head tilts from you both confirmed his suspicions.
“Is there more than one kind of body count?” Alastor followed up your question with his own, “How can there be more than one kind of body count?”
“We’re talkin bout how many people we’ve slept with.” Angel paused, remembering your difficulty understanding innuendos. “I mean how many we’ve fucked. Boned. Had sex with.” At his clarification you looked somewhat less confused.
“Why would that be called a body count?” you wondered as Alastor looked surprised at Angel’s explanation. “I’m impressed Angel, I didn’t expect you to explain anything.” Audio of an audience applauding resounded in the room.
The spider shrugged. “I promised your gal I’d explain innuendos if she’d tell me what you two do when ya fuck. Ain’t gonna go back on my word, ‘specially with this cutie.” He winked and stuck his tongue out at the two of you.
“Okay, what's your sexy body count then?” Cherri, disappointed that the thousands you mentioned weren’t people you slept with, was even more curious now.
“One,” you and Alastor said in unison.
Cherri spluttered a bit at the difference between the two kinds of counts while Angel nodded sagely. “Yeah, that tracks, considering you’re both ace as spades and the weird shit you’ve done.”
Lucifer, unsurprised at the amount of death and destruction Overlords were capable of, did look intrigued by that. “What do you mean, ‘weird shit they’ve done?’” Vaggie clapped her hands over her ears as Charlie buried her face into the other girl’s hair in embarrassment. Cherri Bomb nodded encouragement to you.
“NO!” Husk and Angel yelled out together. Angel looked straight up panicked as Husk dashed over to block Alastor and you from view with his wings. “Trust me Luci, you don’t wanna know,” Angel stressed, grabbing the short man by the shoulders. “It broke my brain. Mine. The porn star. Don’t ask ‘em.”
“Is the fact that we’ve [redacted] really that upsetting?” Alastor asked from behind Husk’s feathers. “I think it’s more that we’ve done things like [oh no, not this again], cher,” came your cheerful reply.
Husk pressed his wings back, covering both your mouths. “Boss, Y/N, please stop.” Niffty choose that moment to scramble up Alastor’s shoulder and peek over Husk’s wing. “They’ve done [bleepitybleep] too!”
All heads whipped in her direction. The tiny maid looked proud of herself as she added, “My body count is five! Just one from life. That one counts for my murder count too!”
“Okay, new topic!” Charlie stood up abruptly, her face as red as her tuxedo jacket. “Umm, uhhhh, let’s talk about favorite foods!”
—————
Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry
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Little drop of your love
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requester: Can you possibly do a Azriel X reader where they are newly mated and the IC and them go out at Rita’s and someone hits on her?
a/n I had so much fun writing this it's almost illegal...
warning: mention of sexual themes, creeps in the club
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It has been a month. A whole month since you last saw your family. The mating frenzy has been so intense, since you and Azriel accepted the bond, that even Azriel has positioned all of his works. There was no way you two could be without one another for longer than five minutes. If it wasn't him between your legs, then it was you on your knees looking up at the spymaster or Azriel with your legs over his shoulders as he ate you out. Never before had you felt such a strong desire to be this close to him. Even with him buried deep inside you, you still felt like he wasn't close enough. It's like you wanted to crawl inside his skin. Somehow completely melt inside him and just becomes one body and soul. 
In the beginning, you couldn't care less that it was just you. That's all you wanted, and you cursed Rhys out for interrupting you two. Even the thought of Azriel being anywhere but in your bed made you physically sick, as if you were going to die if he spent a moment elsewhere. But as the weeks passed and the initial craziness faded, you two spent more time laying in bed laughing and cuddling. That was when you realized how badly you two neglected your friends. You knew deep down that they would understand, and in the worst-case scenario, you two might just get teased. Maybe get a prize for being all up on each other for the longest time. Yet it still made your heart ache a little. You missed the girls. And boy, oh boy, how many stories you had to share with them. Not to mention that you missed messing around with Cassian. He had always been like a brother to you. Yeah, an evening just getting wasted with him and talking absolute nonsense was long overdue.
So when Feyre gently knocked on your mental shields, you had to hold yourself back from screaming from excitement. The rest of the family was planning a trip out for a night at Rita's. You two were invited, of course, and as Feyre said, that would allow everyone a chance to celebrate your mating bond since there was no time for that prior.
"Az, come on, I want to put on something nice and have fun with our friends." You, of course, agreed to the offer without informing Azriel about it, leaving him all grumpy in bed now. "You've been wearing my clothes, ain't that nice?" His hands were once again resting on your hips as he laid practically on top of you, nibbling at your neck from time to time.
"Yes, but I miss our family. Don't you?" He has always been a huge family man. There was not a single family dinner or gathering that he missed. You knew he loved them without a doubt, so this was still the mating bond speaking from within him. "You weren't complaining about that an hour ago", "Azriel", the male-only laughed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you squirmed beneath him. 
But after long hours of trying to sway him your way and thanking him for agreeing afterward, you managed to convince him to finally go out. And in all honesty, who was he to deny your wishes? Azriel was ready to do anything for you if that would make you happy. You were his priority now. His mate. His equal. The other half that he had wanted to find for so long.
Azriel felt like a whole new man. Even Cassian had pointed out that his brother was smiling more. Well, at first the general had asked if he wasn't sick, earning a vulgar gesture from the shadow singer. But everyone could see just how happy and full of life Azriel had become once you stepped into his life. One by one, you broke through all of his walls and, with your gentle and slow love, showed him a whole new meaning of life.
Azriel was happily sitting by the fireplace, smiling to himself, thinking of all the memories you two had shared when he heard the sound of your high heels approaching. And all he could do was let out a low growl as you gave him a little swirl while biting your lip. "I think we won't make it out the door," Azriel said, taking hold of your hand and spinning you around one more time, admiring how the black material of the dress, accompanied by white pearls, fitted your body simply perfectly.
"We're matching," your hands had come up to rest on his chest, feeling the soft material of the black shirt he was wearing, "And it's honestly rude how you manage to look so sexy with just a shirt and a couple of undone buttons," smacking his chest playfully, you moved to pull away, pouting slightly. "You're the sexiest when you're naked, but this is outrageous," bringing you closer to him. Azriel placed a loving kiss on the crown of your head, "You look breathtaking, my love."
Smiling brightly, you wrapped your hands around his neck. Even with high heels on, you barely got to meet his lips without stepping on your tippy toes. Azriel leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, not caring about the red lipstick you were wearing. Within seconds, the kiss got more passionate, and Azriel's hands started scrunching up the material of your silk dress. "Az, you'll mess up the dress before we even get there," you grumbled, pulling away from him. Brushing your fingers against his lips so you could wipe away the red tint covering them. "Good, they know you had some action before you came there, and they'll stay away," you shook your head, rolling your eyes as you two walked out.
The club was stuffed when you got there. And with you being out for the first time in quite a while, the sea of bodies and the drumming of the music instantly made you want to step away as an overwhelming amount of stimulation flooded your senses. Azriel instantly draped his hand over your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. His other hand held yours as you two stepped forward. He could feel your emotions loud and clear. Sending some comforting strokes of love through the bond, feeling as your body instantly became less tense as his body pressed to yours. 
It was a question in itself. But somehow, through all of the sounds, you heard the loudest shriek that Mor had let out once you two came into view, immediately running your way. Feyre and Nesta follow one step behind as they all embraced you. Once you were practically swallowed by the females, Azriel stepped aside and went to join his brothers, who both had the biggest smiles on their faces. "Look who finally graced us with their presence," Rhys chirped, handing Azriel a glass. "Reeking of sweet, sweet sex," Cassian added, earning a shove from Azriel in return as the two males laughed. "I'm surprised she's walking", "I'm not an animal, Rhys", the spymaster gave his high lord a look before turning his attention to you. You haven't yet crossed the distance towards the private nook. The girls still twirling you around as if you were the most unseen creature ever. Azriel would have asked them to stop and leave you alone, but the smile on your face as you all giggled among each other is what stopped him. His lips curve up as he watches you.
"Come on, we need it in millimeters", "And don't forget the details", "No, tell me if he's into some kinky stuff", they were all talking over one another, and you found yourself laughing so hard your cheeks started to sting. "Should I be concerned that all you bunch care about is my mate's cock?", you teased them in return, earning multiple eye rolls and growls.
"It's for research!", Mor whined from beside you. "Fine, he has the biggest wingspan for a reason. Never seen anything like that in my humble life," you said, Nesta fell back on the plush material of the sofas as the girls once again erupted into fits of laughter. "Does he treat you well, though?" Feyre took a hold of your hand, squeezing it softly. "He's perfect," you said, turning your attention to the boys and instantly catching Azriel's gaze. Even while he was still talking with his brother, his eyes didn't seem to leave you. "I feel like a princess. He's the best." Smiling at your high lady, you leaned into her embrace.
As the night went on, more and more drinks were poured, and saluted by everyone. You were sitting on Azriel's lap, his hand loosely wrapped around your lower body, as everyone watched Cassian peel his shirt off as he performed quite a lap dance for Nesta. It was hard to tell the difference between her wanting to kill her mate and just wanting to rip the rest of his clothes off.
 "Someone needs to save his poor soul," Azriel laughed in your ear, kissing your exposed shoulder, "I'll go get us some drinks and grab him a water," Azriel was almost up when you pushed him back down on the seat. "I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own", the spymaster shot you a warning look before you leaned in kissing him softly, biting his lip as you pulled away. Azriel cursed under his breath just as you walked off, smirking like a cat.
Most of the people in the club were wasted. It shouldn't have surprised you, given how late it was. But that also meant that the club was starting to get less stuffy. The crowd was still big, but at least it felt like there was a tiny bit more breathing space. You shouted your order to the bartender, who complimented you in return. Wishful fool, you thought to yourself as you smiled at him, grateful that he turned away to mix the different liquors without a second glance. You were still laughing to yourself, thinking how badly you were going to tease Cassian tomorrow, when you felt someone come to stand next to you. You would have ignored it, but the closeness of the stance made you frown as you turned to look its way.
The male was pretty tall, but nothing compared to Azriel. Light hair, bright blue eyes. Ah... Everything you hated the most in males. You stepped to the side, but he took that as an opportunity to catch a hold of your hand, making you turn his way. "What a pretty flower has landed on my way," you cocked your head to the side, "More like you landed yourself here," the male whistled back, a smirk on his face. "And she has an attitude. Do you carry that into the bedroom as well?" Your eyes went big as you gaped at him, "Excuse me?", "You heard me, you like to be a little brat?", his hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him, your hands instantly came up to push against his chest so he wouldn't get too close. Turning your head to the side as you closed your eyes. But not even a moment later, the hands were ripped off of you, as you fell into someone's embrace. Looking up, you saw that it was Cassian, who now looked way soberer than he did a few minutes ago. Returning your gaze to the front, you noticed Azriel's back, wings already perked up as he towered above the male.
"Oh little lad, I would step aside if I were you," Rhys warned him, knowing that this could escalate rather quickly. "Maybe you should mind your business; I was getting some," Azriel stepped forward, lifting the blonde by his shirt. "I will send you flying into pieces if you say even a single word," the shadow singer grunted through his teeth. You tried to reach for him, but Cassian wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You tried to protest, but you knew that it was mainly for keeping you safe in case Azriel completely lost his cool. Not only to protect you but also Azriel, knowing that he would never forgive himself if, in the heat of the moment, he hurt you by accident. 
The shadows were swirling all around the place. The poor male's feet were dangling in the air as Azriel glared at him. And if looks could kill, the sorry fuck would be six feet under.  "You ever decide to touch my mate ever again, and I'll make you eat your own hands, understood?" The male only nodded his head, squirming in the tight grip of the spymaster. "I asked you a question, shitass!" Azriel roared, making the glass bottles at the back bar shake ever so slightly. "Yes, I'm so sorry, please," the male pleaded, almost crying. Azriel threw him across the room without a second thought as he turned to you.
Cassian instantly let go of you, stepping aside, as well as raising his hands up. Yet Azriel didn't miss a chance to also growl at his brother. You took a hold of your mate's hand, dragging him into the back room for some privacy. Luckily, the place was empty as you closed the doors behind the two of you. Azriel was still breathing heavily. You knew, you could tell from the way he was clenching his fist that he was fighting against the urge to go back there and beat the daylight out of that male. You approached him, stepping in between his legs, your hands running through his perfectly made hair. Azriel let out a deep breath as he nuzzled his face into your stomach, hands gripping your sides as he breathed in your scent.
He needed to ground himself. To pull himself out of the blinding rage. He refused to be violent in front of you. Of course, you knew what Azriel did. You knew that very well, but that didn't mean that he wanted to welcome his dark side into day-to-day life. "I'm all okay. I'm here with you," you mumbled softly, thankful for the dimmed-out music that allowed you to keep your voice nice and soft. "He...", Azriel spoke, but his voice died down as he clenched his jaw tightly.
"He's a doomed creature with a death wish," you said as you gently nudged Azirel's head up to meet your gaze. "You could have been seriously hurt. He could have... ", "I'm here, you saved me, and I'm alright," you said, placing both of your hands on either side of his face as you bent forward, resting your forehead on his. "I promise that I'm fine, Azzy," yet his eyes still searched you as if he was trying to find a lie in your words. Shaking his head, he pressed himself closer to you once again. You ran your fingers up and down his neck, scratching him ever so slightly.
"We should have stayed at home," Azriel groaned, but you quickly cut in, "That's not true. We had a fun night, and we'll continue to do so," you said, pushing him back into the soft pillows as you moved to straddle his lap.
"What do you think you're up to, sweet girl?", he asked, but you only smirked as you pressed your finger to his lips and said, "Saying thank you to my knight in shining armor." The darkness in his eyes was replaced with a lustful look as he moved his hand under the skirt of your dress. Eyes going big as his fingers came in contact with your bare hips. A mischievous smirk paints your lips as you lean forward, leaving kisses on his exposed chest. "It's your lucky night, little bat. I came bearing gifts," the shadow singer only shook his head as he flipped you two over, "You're so going to pay for this, gorgeous."
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femmefatalevibe · 1 year
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Femme Fatale Playbook: How To Be More Charming & Charismatic
Learn To Be Comfortable In Your Own Skin: Confidence and self-awareness are two of the most magnetic traits someone can possess. Accept yourself for who you are. Don't feel ashamed of your personality, quirks, values, passions, etc. Uniqueness makes the world go round. Accepting that we're all different vs. superior/inferior to others is an important life lesson that draws others to you and makes them excited to connect with you.
Remain Interested To Become Interesting: Listen more than you speak. We have two ears and one mouth for a reason. Keep (a reasonable, non-staring amount of) eye contact. Nod and smile to acknowledge that you're actively listening to the other person as they're speaking. Ask follow-up questions. Keep your mind and questions open-ended. Become fascinated with what makes other people tick.
Learn To Speak Your Truth Without Providing Unsolicited Advice: Blindly agreeing to everything someone says sounds disingenuous and makes you appear untrustworthy. Accept that a healthy person will respect your individuality, honesty, and having your own opinions based on your personal life experiences. However, there's a difference between having an incompatible view and forcing your values or desire onto another person. If someone wants your opinion, they're likely to ask you directly for advice on a situation. If you feel the need to chime in, ask for the green light before stating your take on a situation (outside of emergencies or dangerous situations, of course).
Don't Take Yourself Too Seriously: Embrace your sense of humor (appropriately). Be playful. Operating like an emotionless robot is off-putting and makes everyone feel uncomfortable (including yourself). A subtle joke or clever comment can break the ice and relieve any social tension.
Remember Small Details; Initiate Thoughtful Follow-Ups: People feel seen and heard when you remember small details about what they say – their likes, dislikes, plans for the rest of the week, a big project at work, something going on with their family, friends, pets, etc. Actively listening to your conversation partners will allow you to remember the small details about those you speak with and makes others feel more appreciated by/connected to you. Asking how someone's trip to that new city, a casual review of a hot new local restaurant, the status of a work project, or surface-level personal matter will make you memorable and, therefore, more charming and charismatic.
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Can I get a, e, j, k and y for Smoker.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Smoker does not know how to be affectionate. Bless him, he is completely clueless. This frustrates him because he does want to be close and loving with his darling, he just genuinely has no idea how to approach the subject. For a long time, his most direct way of displaying his love for you is by following you around like a guard dog and making sure no one messes with or harms you.
Once he has made the leap and finally has his darling in his clutches, he starts to figure out how to approach affection and what he likes. He enjoys having you in the same room as him while he's working and eventually develops a fondness for having you in his lap. If you light his cigars for him, he'll short-circuit. Over time, he'll get in the habit of kissing you goodbye before he has to leave to do his job.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
This man is the king of being stone-faced and closed off. Y'all could be together for years and you'll still feel like you know nothing about him. He isn't intentionally icing you out, this is just how he is.
Occasionally, he'll sit down and explain that he loves you more than anyone else and would do anything for you, but that will only happen if he believes that it will further his relationship with you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
He doesn't get jealous of your platonic relationships. With how busy he is most of the time, even as a yandere he can acknowledge that it's unreasonable for him to expect you to have zero relationships outside of himself. It would only become a problem if the friend or family member tried to convince you to not be with him which would be unlikely to happen since he is the most covert yandere in all of One Piece.
When it comes to romantic rivals, he's much less forgiving. Smoker is painfully aware of the fact that he isn't a very romantic man, and he's insecure about it. He worries that you're going to be swept off your feet by someone that actually knows how to woo you. In his mind, he can't risk having any competition, so he'll do anything to get rid of them. Arresting them is the easiest course of action, but he isn't afraid of beating or killing them if he gets desperate enough.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
In all honesty, he seems completely normal. No one can tell that he's a yandere, not even his darling. He hides it perfectly. His naturally stoic demeanor masks his much more intense feelings, and he makes sure that no one sees his more extreme tendencies. He finds easily explainable reasons to be in your presence and cross paths with you until he's established enough of a connection to be able to openly seek you out without it seeming odd.
Once you're together, he doesn't change that much. He's just around you more often and will sometimes bring a small gift for you. If you're in private, he gets a little more affectionate. Like having you in his lap as previously mentioned, or simply sitting next to you with an arm draped over your shoulder while you're relaxing together.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
This man will wait for years before making his move because he ideally wants you to never know about his yandere tendencies. He wants you to be with him because you genuinely love him, not because he forced you. The only scenario where he would force it is if he felt like he needed to for your safety, and even then he would be desperately trying to convince you that this is strictly for your well-being and has nothing to do with his own wants and desires.
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Maybe in time, we can give it one more try
Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/F!Reader
Tags: Angst, break-ups, lovers to exes, the painful acknowledgment that it’s over and nothing can fix it. No use of Y/N
Rating: E
WC: ~700
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You lean back into the squeaky, plastic that cushions the diner booth. You drag your fingertip across the white and be-speckled table and trace mindless circles. The pattern reminds you of the cafeteria tables from high school. The condensation from your water pools at the base of your glass. You drag your fingers through it and trace faint water patterns. It helps to distract you. The bell above the door rings and you reflectively look up and your heart clenches.
Carmy slides into the booth and the server gives him a large menu with every single imaginable cuisine printed across it. You could buy a hot dog, or a steak dinner, or a club sandwich or pancakes. It was limitless. His eyebrows lift as he looks over the menu.
“Did you already order?” He asks without looking up.
“No, I’m not hungry.” Your teeth meet your lower lip and scrape against the thin skin there. You resist the urge to peel it off. To feel the sharp, copper-tasted pain. You chose a public place because you felt it would be easier. There was less of a chance you would cry.
“Carmen,” You swallow. His name feels like sand in your throat. “I don’t think I can put this off any longer.”
He looks up at you, blue and soulful and bloodshot. And you look away. You’ve felt yourself drifting from Carmy ever since he reopened his restaurant. You knew there was a chance of your relationship suffering. Or perhaps suffering isn’t the right word. Too dramatic. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. You told Carmy your worries. You expressed your feelings. You suggested date nights and ways to stay connected and stay close. Somewhere between telling him and these past few months—Carmy stopped trying.
It was as if he was pretending to be in a relationship. He went through the motions. He held your hand. He kissed you and held you at night. But it was like he wasn’t truly with you. He was someplace else. Distracted. You can’t put your whole life on hold with the hope that he’ll come back—that he’ll get it together and be a better partner to you. You could blame the restaurant, sure, but you knew that wasn’t the whole picture. You gave it a few months. You tried.
Now, it felt like you and Carmy were two pieces that didn’t fit together anymore. The more you tried to force it the more obvious it was. Once something breaks, you can glue it back together, but that glue becomes a barrier. You’ll never be as close as you once were.
You say, “It’s not working.”
Your throat tightens and prickles. The familiar ache builds behind your eyes. Once the words leave you, there’s the instinctive desire to swallow them back up. You hear Carmy place the menu onto the table and watch him fold his hands out of the corner of your eye.
His voice is soft and pained, “I thought we could make it through anything.”
You laugh bitterly, “Yeah, me too.”
“What if--”
“Carmy, don’t.”  You interrupt, “I’ve heard excuses for the past three months.” You pull your water glass closer and wrap your hands around it. A barrier. A cool, wet comfort between your palms. “This is what happens, you know? People grow apart. People want different things.”
“And you don’t want to be with me anymore.” He nodded, not making eye contact, though you could see the glossy sheen of his eyes beneath the harsh florescent diner lights. His blunt honesty is like a knife through your ribs. Ironically, this is the most honest conversation you’ve had in weeks.
“So, that’s it?” He says, “we’re done?”
“I’m tired of being alone in this relationship.” You push ice around with the straw, “that’s what it comes down to. You don’t have space for me in your life, Carmy.”
“I – I – uh -” Carmy clears his throat and his forehead crinkles, “I don’t want to lose you, though.”
“I know.”
The awkward silent lays before you like a slaughtered, wheezing beast. You feel the life of your relationship slowly drain out of you. The love stays, of course. The love always lingers even after saying goodbye.
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Daddy!January- Day 2
Brat-Taming with Daddy! Bang Chan
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Content Includes: Hard!Dom Bang Chan x sub!fem reader, degradation, ‘use of sl*t and wh*re’, praise, ice-play, jealous Bang Chan, temperature play, nipple place, impact play, smacking with hands, kissing, begging (duh, it’s fucking Bang Chan), shibari! Reader is tied up with a rope, use of female anatomy, oral (f receiving), alcohol play (idk what the proper word for this is),aftercare. 
Word Count: 1,285
‘You’ve been wanting my attention the entire night babygirl, well now you have it’. 
The silky rope entwined around your wrists and ankles had you perfectly spread out for Chan’s liking, the wide-eyed and tense gaze staring back at him added to the tightening of his briefs. 
Pliant and malleable is how he adored you the most. 
And he loved to tame the fucking audacity out of his bratty girl. 
He approached you slowly, his heeled boots clacking on the floor and emphasising his presence as your body instinctively went to cover yourself up, unsuccessfully of course. 
A soft hand was gently placed on the middle of your bare chest, Chan heaving out quite the dramatic sigh as he slowly wandered his hand down your naval. 
And I mean slowly, one finger after another. 
‘I was going to ignore your behaviour at dinner tonight, ignore the ‘fuck me’ eyes and those slutty heels rubbing against me’ His tone was neutral with an edge, like he was holding back. 
His hand bypassed your pubic area and started to slide down your left thigh, smirking slightly as he heard you hum in frustration. 
‘I was going to be so sweet to you tonight as well, make love to you, tell you how much you mean to me.’
His hand stopped at your right thigh, his gaze trailed up to yours, the predatory glance adding to the growing burn in-between your thighs. 
‘Ahh!’ Your body jolted as Chan gripped the flesh of your thigh, not enough to bruise but enough to leave prints. 
‘But then you just had to ruin it didn’t you?’ He mocked you, taking a deep breath and gently massaging the area. 
‘SMACK!’ 
The room filled the air with a harsh sound as he smacked your thigh, feeling the flesh ripple under his hand and your face squirm at the pain. 
‘I come out to find my baby all giggling and flirting with the waiter?’ His voice became more gruff, his shoulders more broad. 
‘SMACK!’ 
‘In front of me, your fucking MAN!’ 
‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’ 
‘I’m sorry! I was just being nice!!’ 
Chan could see the honesty in your eyes but he had already gone this far and he was enjoying himself too much. 
His hand trailed lightly up over your naval, his eyes following the pattern of his fingers and his tone neutral. 
‘Well, I guess if you were being nice, then maybe I should show you how much of a slut Daddy’s girl really is’. 
His hand lightly clasped your left thigh, you choked on your saliva as Chan’s mouth turned upwards into a smirk, his harsh demeanour back in the room. 
‘SMACK!’ 
‘Are you Daddy’s little slut?’ Chan questioned you, his fingers gently probing over the reddening area. 
The smack had surprised you slightly and didn’t hear the question, the sting throbbing throughout your thigh. 
‘What?’ 
‘SMACK!’ 
‘I said!’ 
‘SMACK!’ 
‘Are you Daddy’s little slut!’ His voice was raised, his cheeks flushed red with desire and anger. 
‘Yes, I’m Daddy’s little slut!’ You whined out, your ankles twisting against the rope holding you against the bed. 
‘SMACK! SMACK!’ 
‘Good, guess I need to remind you again’. 
A few soft kisses were praised against your thigh soothingly, the gentle touch caused your skin to prickle and nipples to harden. 
‘I’ll be back, I need a few things for your punishment’. 
The seconds increased the agitation of you plastered to the bed, ropes exposing you and your pride thrown on the fucking floor. 
This felt like a punishment in itself, to have to fucking wait for him. 
You’re sure he was doing it deliberately, teasing the absence while you were squirming and huffing in the empty room. 
A sigh of relief left your mouth as you heard the door open to see Chan come in, bare chested and bare feet, only clothed in his black formal trousers. 
He was holding two small glasses, one filled with a small amount of spirits and the other filled with ice, the sounds of the ice clinking being amplified in the room as he set them down on the bed-side table. 
‘Seeing you talk to that waiter, that hurt me babygirl’ He grabbed an ice-cube from the glass and held it in his fingertips. 
‘Now let’s see how much ice you can handle after that burn’. 
He placed the ice cube directly on your chest, watching the ice bead around your skin. 
‘Now, here are Daddy’s rules’. 
He tilted your chin up with his finger so you were staring at him, his presence calm but his tone hinting for you to heed his words. 
‘You may squirm and moan but no speaking, you haven’t earned the right to speak yet. If you can make it…let’s say two ice cubes? Then Daddy may you let cum. Do you understand?’
The enthusiastic response was not enough for him. 
‘Words, baby’. 
‘Yes, Daddy! I’ll be a good girl, I’ll promise!’ You cried out, a roll of water dripping down the side of your ribs. 
Chan softly smiled at you and the softness of his lips against your forehead sent a warmth through your body. 
‘That’s right, I know you’re Daddy’s good girl’. 
The next 30-40- 60 minutes…who fucking knows? Time was a blur to you as all you could think about was the freezing ice against your burning skin, Chan’s nimble fingers had ran through the ice over your nipples, down your naval and over your reddened thighs, your pants and grunts were resounding through the room as Chan dripped the ice all over your sensitive thighs. 
You’re sure you almost lost it when Chan settled a second melting ice cube on top of your public bone, feeling the cube melt against your mound before the water trickled down across your clit and folds. 
It was enough to burn but enough to quell the pressure. 
And you were close to fucking exploding. 
‘Please!’ You cried out, your brow furrowed in frustration and your wrists started to hurt slightly from the rope. 
‘Please Daddy, just make me cum! I need it, I need you!’ The whine and struggle in your voice and chest was real, your bottom lip all red and pouty from where you had been biting it. 
Chan’s widened eyes and the shaky breath let you know you were about to get what you wanted, his face akin to a hunter having caught his prey. 
‘Aww, Daddy can never tire of hearing his babygirl beg for him’. He leaned down, kissing you slowly but passionately, his lips moulding to yours. 
‘One more thing’ Chan sat near you on the bed, reaching over to grab the glass of whiskey, staring at your gorgeous figure as he sipped on the whiskey lightly. 
‘Open for me’ His fingers gently pried down your chin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. 
He drank the final sip of whiskey, holding it in his mouth as he leaned over and kissed you, filling your mouth with the spirit to which you drank greedily, sighing as Chan’s fingers wiped your mouth clean with his thumb. 
‘You did good baby, so beautiful for Daddy’. He reassured, moving down to gently undo the rope on your ankles, giving them a soft massage before undoing your wrists. 
‘Let me clean you baby, make you all nice and warm’. 
Your mind slipped into a soft haze as you felt Chan wipe the excess water away and dry you with a towel, you thought he was going to help you into the shower until you felt Chan’s lips press against your thighs, hands slightly nudging them open and his breath hot against your aching clit. 
‘Relax for me baby and let Daddy eat’.
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Everyone knows that degradation is not something I tend to write about because it’s not something I enjoy personally but the person who requested this loves the kink and so because she’s a beautiful moot of mine, I wrote it in for her. 
I don’t know if it was good or fit the context but thank you @mischiefsmind and I hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it. 
Enjoy!
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cupidastrology · 2 years
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞。˚ ⋆
please do not repost or copy my work.
the 4th house is one of the most quiet areas in the birth chart. it represents the root, the motherhood, the family, and the systems we must break in order to find ourselves.
the 4th house is also home of the ic, known as where we are born and raised on parents' values. the mc, located in the 10th house, is where we must go to become ourselves as our own individuals.
-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩��ˊˎ
sun in the 4th house - you may be seen as an important family figure, members of your family look up to you to take on big duties that others don't have the confidence to take responsibility for. your desire for privacy and comfort is very important. there is alot of importance of feminine figures in your home. you are close or have sensitive connections with the mother.
moon in the 4th house - it is necessary to feel safe in your home, you may keep alot of your emotions and desires away from the changes of the outside world. you may have issues with leaving your bed and may want to create your own imaginary world in it. getting involved with homeschooling, home based jobs, and doing more work that has to do with comfort created from safety and security.
mercury in the 4th house - it is easy for you to get in touch with home based work in this position. you may grow a family business or get in touch with many family members to create a system of caretaking for others. it is important you exercise boundaries within your family members. communication is key in order to build a strong family system and that happens here often. alot of drama, gossip, or she said/he said behavior happen in your family.
︎venus in the 4th house - childhood was full of items, movies, shows, and experiences that fit your love life later into adulthood. you may have a strong system with family, love is easy to communicate and feel out within this house. your love life may be very private, naive, quiet, and lingering of small touches and expressions. your parent's stories and advices of love may be very important to your growth.
mars in the 4th house - anger or issues around the family and the home life, the father may have been a big importance to the stability of the home. your growth may have been very rural, honest, and vulgar. life's honesty hit you early in your childhood as well, so you may intimidate others with what you can tolerate when it comes to building a foundation with a partner.
jupiter in the 4th house - educational upbringing, surrounded by brand new opportunities having to do with travel and learning new ways of lifestyle. one moment you may have been riding horses with your family and then learning how to camp in the wilderness. the upbringing of this position is all about taking new chances and earning a lot of luck through new experiences with honesty. curiosity is a big feature dedicated to your upbringing, so you may know more than the average person.
saturn in the 4th house - many restrictions and limitations around freedom in the home, self control may have been out of ways mainly around family members. you may have had to deal with many rules surrounding or within the home. construction work or many destructions around or within the home as well, you've possibly had to relocate multiple times in your life. patience is key to building a successful foundation.
uranus in the 4th house - random changes and erratic behaviors may have plagued the home and upbringing. you've had a random or unexpected way of learning basic needs in your youth, many peers in school may not relate to you often to your own experiences. relocation is often spoken here or the jobs your parents have held in your childhood were random, quick, and not always stable. an odd lifestyle and odd expectations as to what you're meant to achieve in a home life. children will be raised to their own devices.
neptune in the 4th house - dreams and aspirations may have stayed in the home and upbringing. experiencing alot of situation where psychedelics or drugs were apparent to be seen around your environment or spoken about often in the home. intuitive or dream related situations, your home or upbringing involved alot of paranormal experiences. having possible religious or spiritual related parents or family members.
pluto in the 4th house - issues or huge abruptions with the mother or family members. feeling like an outsider, being the star of the family. the upbringing is impactful, permanent, and very influenced to what you build throughout your life. family and parenting is of great importance and may push to how you treat your children when building your own family. getting involved with moving around places with alot of bad influence or influence that is life changing for you in general.
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glasskey · 11 months
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Nick's Playlist
This one’s moody listen and it seems our rebellious hero, June Osborne, just can’t stop hitting that replay button no matter how hard she tries. It’s okay June, neither can we. Today I’m going to look beneath all the romance to try and decode our mutinous young commander. Welcome to our Noir resident bad boy playlist.
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Everybody Breaks
This is possibly Blaine’s most famous line and it’s a confession, a warning and a prediction all in one. It sums up the Nick Blaine we first encounter and the one who ends up delivering that sweet right hook to Lawrence in the middle of his marriage festivities, yet somehow they’re a world apart……track 1; Everybody Breaks.
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Nick’s realised something; June doesn’t seem to care about or understand the rules. Now the Eyes have been called and Nick thinks it’s time for a little Gilead truth bomb “it’s not about being tough or brave, brave isn’t a part of any of this……Everybody breaks….Everybody.” This is the first time we see Nick speak to June with an unmasked honesty, and while he may have intended to warn her, it’s now abundantly clear that Nick has some ghosts of his own. This is Nick version 1; afraid, alone, distrustful and broken. This is Nick resigned to servitude, to the inevitability that his cage means “it’s going to end the same way no matter what you do”. This is Nick, unwilling to step out of line, and yet here he is sticking his neck out making a bid on June’s behalf with the Eyes, to keep the wolf from the door.
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While Nick may be full of reproach, he’s unintentionally told her something personal and as a result, the first chink in his armor appears. His warning to comply and resign herself to her inevitable fate is reflected beautifully when Blaine looks in his rear view to see her defiantly glaring back at him, she not only won’t be broken, but she’ll show him what real fighting looks like.
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The cracks start to appear almost immediately, first he’s coming to her room alone, next he’s fessing up to being an Eye, then he’s secreting her away at The Boston Globe, before you know it he’s dragging her rapist out into a forest to die and finally in season 5 he’s laying down the law in a room full of Commanders. “Everybody breaks”……how little he knows at that point how prophetic that will be for him. June is for all intents and purposes, his breaking point.
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I should've Just driven away with you.
Is it hot in here? Nick comes to June’s room with a handful of ice and instead of handing it to her he cups it in her hand and strokes it. This is one of those instances where touching hands is enough to raise the temperature by about 20 degrees.
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This method of the intimate but almost casual touch is often used in period dramas where any type of incidental physical contact is a big deal and pashing someone is something you only ever do with your intended. June may have previously flirtatiously flashed a bit of knee but this right here is where it all begins, it’s the first time he’s actually touched her and it’s no coincidence that it’s the start of all their hand brushing. From then on all the hand brushing is like a secret message between the two, a reassurance of love and support.
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From the second half of season 4 and most of season 5 all the hand brushing business was gone, granted there wasn’t much of an opportunity but that really was the point, the two lovers were separated. At the end of season 5 Nick visits June in the hospital and for the first time in almost 2 seasons we see him brush her hand and she stirs in her sleep, somehow she feels him there….here we go.
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This sentiment of running away together, echoes throughout the seasons. These two are the very definition of “love through the barricades” and their impossible dream reveals the excruciating reality of war. This is the first time we hear Nick express his desire, it’s just a foundling idea of escapism with no solid destination at this point, but this “voice beneath the floorboards” grows increasingly louder and louder throughout the seasons. Here we see that Nick’s officially started to figuratively flirt with the idea of freedom, and as he walks out of the room he looks back at her and sighs, she’s trouble, the whole thing is trouble, but he just CAN’T help himself.
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I'm just a driver
This is the first and only time we have seen Nick and Luke together and their exchange is gripping from start to finish. This few minutes provides us with an insight into how different and similar these two men are at their core:
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Nick the portrait of stoicism, downplays his importance in everything, he’s wary and reluctant to engage, but he can’t leave Canada without sending June’s family word of her well being. Luke tries to be rational but he’s sensitive and becomes emotional, having said that, no one should blame him for his response to Nick’s news. The first and only time he’s laid eyes on Nick is when he was opening the car door for the Waterford’s, so as far as he knows they’re all in cahoots.
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One might argue that Nick telling Luke that he and June are pals should be good enough and initially it is, but add to this the devastating news that his wife is now pregnant to the New wave version of Hitler, he understandably becomes a little emotional. It’s not an unusual reaction, in our everyday lives it’s those in closest proximity that usually bear the brunt of our frustrations. So why doesn’t Nick admit to the parentage of his own child? As horrifying as it is, a commander is expected by Gilead law to impregnate the handmaids, but what the fuck would a driver be doing impregnating his wife? It’s up to June to tell Luke about this and he knows it.
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The first time Nick sights Luke he’s holding a huge picture of June with her family, for the first time Nick is confronted by the reality of her stolen former life. The three of them look blissful in the photograph and holding it is her enraged husband, Nick understands Luke’s love and grief all too well. He does the one thing he can do; brings news of her to her desperate, mourning family. At first Luke doesn’t seem particularly grateful, he’s gutted that Waterford is using his wife as a walking womb and pushes Nick out the door. Suddenly realizing that Nick is his only link to his wife and daughter, he takes after him with questions and a message for June.
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The shot in the doorway is bathed in red light, there’s a certain sense of intimacy and closeness in this moment, reflecting the bond these 2 men share in the woman they both love. “You tell her I’ll never stop” Luke says, but unconsciously he speaks for Nick as well. Ever the enigma, Nick minimises his importance to June, referring to himself as “just a driver” and disappears into the descending shadows, but it won’t be long before Luke will learn the truth about the man he met that night.
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I'm trying to keep you alive
Beneath the romance lies a deeply symbolic connection between Nick and June and despite its incredible importance, it’s one that’s easily missed. Ever notice how June is constantly bathed in a glowing golden light around Nick? Well that’s because June Osborn represents freedom, a breath of new hope, and in season 1 and 2 Nick Blaine falls deeply in love with the incarnation of his own liberty and that of his country.
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While he sacrificed this dream for the sake of June and Holly’s freedom, and acquiesced to become the good little soldier throughout seasons 3, 4 and 5, his constant longing for freedom could clearly still be seen beneath the veneer. Nick Blaine was introduced as a character disillusioned by the political landscape of his country and deceived into a fascist dictatorship. He for all intents and purposes is the personification of the imprisonment of America’s masses, while June represents freedom and rebellion. Together these two conceive the embodiment of what will become the liberty of their country. Almost everything that Nick Blaine does and says, and the entire landscape of Nick and June’s relationship, can be reframed to match this analogy. If this is true, then the Nick and June endgame is a self fulfilling prophecy, for The Testaments tells us that one day Gilead will fall and America will be free. It is no coincidence that just as he holds Holly in his arms, his eyes filling with tears of joy and June tells him she loves him for the first time. This symbolic union is concrete evidence that Nick and only Nick could be her father, for Fred would NEVER have the capacity, nor possess the desire to give life to rebellion.
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“I’m trying to keep you alive” Blaine says dressed from head to foot in military commander garb, June lies helpless on the ground and at the front lines a war is raging. In his heart he tries to keep the dream of liberty alive. June slowly rises to her feet, their eyes meet and a blinding light surrounds them. As he kneels in the van pleading with June to allow him to help her, he is literally begging for that dream of freedom not to die.
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Ultimately the Handmaid’s must be given up for June to survive and freedom to prevail, like troops being sacrificed in battle for the greater good. Blaine understands sacrifice all too well, before he was Military fodder he was the Waterford’s whipping boy and before that he was the forgotten bottom of America’s working class. There’s not a day he’s lived that he’s known actual freedom and he’ll do just about anything to keep the one person, who gave him a glimpse, alive.
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God is not to be mocked
Ever notice how Fred is always showing up to ruin all those special Nick and June moments? Well this is officially the last time that’s ever going to happen. You see dear old Fred’s about to have a very, very bad day (or night as the case may be) and it is undoubtedly one of the most satisfying things you will ever watch. Nick Blaine spends so much time standing in the shadows and playing fetch and carry, that people lose their ever loving minds when he finally steps up and becomes a bit of a boss. Just prior to June chasing Fred down like a dog and tearing him apart, comes one of the most gratifying Nick moments you will ever see. Nick comes and collects Fred from the border and gives him THIS look....
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I think it’s fair to say that right there, Fred should have already known he was dead AF. Marching his belligerent former master through a cold dark forest, Nick delivers a vicious back hand across Fred’s whiny mouth sending him to his knees. It’s a call back to a slap Fred gave June in season 2 when he’d been helpless to act. Aside from holding his child for the first time, it was also the closest we ever saw Blaine to tears. In that dark forest it is not only June, but Nick who reclaims his power back from Fred. Fred has stolen his pride and laid claim to the woman he loves, and at last it’s finally time to make him bleed for it. When he kisses June in front of him he blatantly exposes Fred’s sense of control as nothing more than delusion, he’s been duped by the two lovers. As June comes over the hill towards them, she is surrounded by light and Nick stares at her with adoration.
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“God is not to be mocked, whatever a man sows, so shall he reap” Blaine says, delivering his most notable “fuck around and find out” speeches to date. This entire scene is a stunning callback to the Noir sequence at the end of Nightshade, and it’s evident that here Blaine’s also speaking for himself, for throughout the seasons we’ve seen Nick sow the seeds of freedom again and again. Now he’s brought liberty and rebellion herself a blood sacrifice to feed the soil, she looks at him with love and thanks him…..inevitably these seeds must bloom.
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In season 1 Nick attempted to sever ties with June, but this is season 4 and June is everything to him, she is the lover, the leader, the creator and the destroyer. Fred is about to find out exactly what that last one means.
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I'm nothing
Easily my favorite track on the whole Nick Playlist, this is where Blaine finally crosses over and tells Gilead to go fuck themselves and IT IS AWESOME. Being the finale this was of course a stand out episode for season 5 and Blaine’s walk across the bridge was a huge season highlight.
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It signified an incredible moment of growth for his character, the attempt on June’s life being the catalyst for change needed to push him over the edge, or the bridge as it were. Nick finally made the choice we always knew he would: he would prefer to die at the barricades for freedom, than live in slavery for the rest of his life. Tuello and Blaine finally strike a deal for June and Nicole’s safety and his eventual immunity, in exchange for becoming a government spy. Tuello and Blaine stand together looking in on June framed in the hospital windows like eyes, a sign of their burgeoning partnership. Nick gets 5 minutes alone with June, the hospital room is silent and ghostly and he watches her sleep. He strokes her hand and she gently rouses, it’s time to fight again.
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“It’s best she doesn’t know I was here” he says and while Tuello acquiesces, you just KNOW come season 6, June’s going to find out and personally I cannot wait. Tuello has increasingly become the voice of reason in the last few seasons and there’s one thing he is dying to know, Why the Hell didn’t Nick run away with June when he had the chance? “She doesn’t need me. I’m nothing.” Blaine says to a visibly gob smacked Tuello. His face softens and his voice cracks just a little as he reassures the young commander “No you’re not Commander, not to her.” June is his liberty and she has not forgotten him, one day he will be free.
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“You will never let her go will you” Rose asks Nick, having witnessed his act of dissent in a room full of commanders, “I can’t…I tried, I really tried” he sighs. In The Handmaid’s Tale, freedom and true love are the highest rewards, for Nick and June these are intimately intertwined. Where 4 09 had left me a crushed wailing mess, 5 10 gave us a glimmer of hope and it came in the most unlikely of places. In storytelling, one hallmark of earning the reward of true love is to humble yourself before it entirely, to fight for its namesake with no expectation of reward. When Blaine signed Tuello’s contract and said those two words; that is exactly what he did.
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disney-is-mylife · 10 months
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Disney Prince x Princess Couples SWAP!!!
FYI: I'm ONLY counting official Princess couples, which ends with Anna being the last one with a canon love interest. So, there's no Merida, Elsa, Moana, or Raya. The goal for this was to have Prince x Princess crossover pairings ONLY.
Snow White x Eugene
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Rapunzel is basically Modern-Day Snow White, and they have very similar Pure Hearts, the kind that can break down Eugene's walls. Snow White knows how to be firm when necessary, but her greatest strength is her unfailing kindness. Eugene would definitely reveal his deepest desires after sharing a cup of tea with Snow.
Cinderella x Adam (the Beast)
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Picture this: Cinderella chooses to stay at the Beast's castle in exchange for her family (be it her dad, who is alive some versions of the fairytale, or her step-family, because she IS selfless enough to try to help them). She no longer has to work as a slave (though knowing her, she'd still damn well would try to help out), and she would assimilate easily into an Enchanted Castle's environment, and her gentleness and kindness, with juuuuust a bit more of a feisty backbone to confront the Beast's temper, would unravel the Beast's tangled heart.
Aurora x Eric
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There are two things Phillip and Eric have in common: they both slayed the villain in an incredibly badass fashion, and they both are smitten with a mysterious voice. Eric is 1000% an homage to Prince Phillip's character, and you cannot tell me that he wouldn't fall head over heels in love with Mary Costa "Briar Rose's" gorgeous voice. (And let's be real, Aurora definitely has a Type lol)
Ariel x John Smith
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Ariel wants to see the human world. John Smith wants to explore the "New World." You do the math. Okay, in all honesty, this is lowkey my least favorite pairing 😭 but when you take away the Awkward Historical Stuff, they do still??? kinda fit???? It's one thing for Ariel to go ashore the nearest human kingdom; it's another for her to actually EXPLORE the planet, with an equal adventurer by her side. (Originally, I paired her with Aladdin, but I found an equal, if not better partner for him below ^^")
Belle x Phillip
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Here's a "Prince Charming" who takes names and kicks ass and would provide the adventure Belle wants so dearly. Also, I just want good things for Belle, so really, who wouldn't want Prince Slay-a-Dragon-Get-the-Girl Phillip???
Jasmine x Shang
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Shang likes a woman who can kick his ass, whether physically or verbally, and Jasmine 1000% fits the bill. Also, she'd whip that Internalized Misogyny out of his system faster than you can say "I'll Make a Man Out of You" lol
Pocahontas x Kristoff
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Look, they're both outdoorsy types, definitely prefer animals to people, and totally would take up rock climbing as a couple's activity. They're one of the few couples on this list that I did NOT change my mind on; they just fit, okay????
Mulan x Florian
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Idk sometimes I'm a basic bitch and just want a Malewife x Girlboss pairing bksbdvhbdvnmsdxngf
Tiana x Charming
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I just want good things for Tiana and if that means marrying a rich prince who'll step back and let her manage her own restaurant or the palace kitchens, then so be it! Again, Malewife x Girlboss 😤
Rapunzel x Aladdin
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Both are adventurous, both have confidence in their abilities despite their traumas, and Rapunzel is feisty enough for Aladdin's tastes. (Also, I have an inexplicable image of them adventuring throughout Agrabah with Punzie's hair swinging them about, Spider-Man style hdbgfjsdbhkgbsdf XD)
Anna x Naveen
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Look, Naveen has actual Game, and is NOT sinister like Hans, so he would EASILY sweep Anna off her feet, in the best way possible. But he wouldn't jump to marriage, and Elsa's Ice Queen presence would prevent him from, ah, moving things too fast lol ^^" Naveen, at the end of the day, is a supporter, not a leader, and that gives room for Anna to take the reins.
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