#I am absolutely unhappy as of the moment.

[screwpinecaprice]

Not a new drawing but mood rn.

My laptop suddenly shut down, I forgot to save, Medibang autosave didn't save anything, and an entire day's work gone. 😐

[ineed-to-sleep]

I'm watching Berserk and I may or may not have hyped myself up to turn my vampire ocs into dark fantasy characters. mmaybe

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[pierregazly]

simply a joke ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x assistant!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), lewis was pining and reader was oblivious [1.6k words]

request: 🌶 I would request for Lewis Hamilton and [20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”]

The bill was placed down on the table, the waitress giving you a sympathetic look as she openly asked whether it would be cash or card.

“You don’t mind paying right? I’ll forward you the money, just forgot my wallet of course, such a lapse of memory sometimes,” he said, an arrogant smirk on your blind date’s face while he waited for your response.

Humming in acknowledgement, you muttered that it would be on card to the waitress. 

You didn’t give him much of a chance to say anything further, bidding him a farewell the moment the bill was paid, and a denial to a second date. The shock on his face made your smile grow when you whirled around, making the trek towards your car while you contemplated how your life had even got to this point.

A quick text sent off to the only person you actually wanted to see was met with an easy ‘I’ll leave the door unlocked, see you soon’, prompting you to direct your car in the opposite direction of your own home.

Lewis was always happy to have you over, saying more than once you may as well just move in with him with how often you were there anyways. Always shrugging the comment off, you would just laugh and remind him the two of you see each other enough during the week and that you were pretty sure Mercedes would be unhappy with a driver and his team-assigned assistant living together.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what they would want, actually? Full access for both of us, love,” Lewis practically had the response memorized, a shove to his shoulder the only answer he ever received to it.

Huffing as you flopped down on the couch next to the Brit, Lewis quirked a questioning eyebrow at you, silently imploring as to what could possibly be creating your current set of emotions.

“I’ve just come back from a date, what an absolute nightmare, Lew. I’ve never met someone who managed to talk about themselves more than that guy. Don’t think I even got a word in,” you complained.

A small chuckle fell from Lewis’ lips, his hand gently patting your knee with a sympathetic expression falling across his face.

“Like… am I the problem, Lew? Be honest, because I’m going insane here, I don’t think I’ve even had sex in months. I genuinely think I’m on the verge of insanity,” you said, practically begging for a response from the Brit.

Huffing, Lewis turned his gaze onto you. Looking you up and down, you felt yourself heat under his gaze. You would never admit it aloud, but you couldn’t deny that the Mercedes driver was borderline gorgeous. 

“I think if all you’re looking for is sex, going on a date in the outfit you’re wearing right now… well it’s not doing you any favours, really.”

Pouting at him, you looked down at your outfit while trying to decipher what was wrong with it.

He continued, “before you start, there’s nothing wrong with the outfit. You look gorgeous, really. But you’ve got the buttons up all the way to the top, the pants aren’t formfitting at all, and you’ve got incredible legs, you just refuse to wear shoes that accentuate them. You’re dressed like you’re going to a business meeting, not like you’re going on a date with the intention of being taken home after.”

He emphasized his words by coming closer, flicking open the top four buttons, allowing the top of your breasts to peak through, the lacy bra you were wearing visible to the open-eye. 

“You don’t get it, Lew. Sure, I could wear a shirt that shows off my breasts, pants that accentuate my ass… but I don’t just want sex. Sure, yes, I want sex… but I want to be taken seriously, I want to be taken on a real date and actually enjoy myself.”

“I could give you both, but you keep denying my offer,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back towards the television.

Trying to wrap your mind around his words, “You act like your offer is ever serious, Lew. We both know it’s a joke.”

“You’re the one who says it’s a joke and that I’m not being serious. Not sure what else I’m really meant to say that’s going to make you believe me, love,” he said.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He had been making jokes like this for years. It was easy to assume they were comments he made with everyone, his personality naturally flirtatious.

Your body moved on instinct, pressing yourself closer to him as you contemplated your next words.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

He didn’t give a response before he was pressing his lips to yours, his hand instantly pressing to the back of your neck, tugging you closer to his body. His lips were soft, his tongue wet as it pressed gently at your lips, begging for an entrance. 

A soft moan fell from your mouth when Lewis pulled your body on top of his, your legs encircling his waist. You ground your core against his, a rumble of a groan falling from Lewis’ own lips, his head falling back against the couch behind him.

“God, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard, about fucking all of them, I swear.”

The whimper that fell from your lips was unintentional, your body subconsciously grinding down against the hardness growing between his legs; the pit in your stomach growing, the desire for him so prevalent in your actions.

You had never realized how much you truly wanted this, how much you wanted those comments you thought to be jokes, to be real.

“That better not be a joke, Lew,” you moaned, his lips pressing to your neck as he guided your hips back and forth over his lap. 

You felt your back hit the couch, Lewis’ body crawling over top of yours as he began kissing down your body. The buttons on your shirt having come undone at some point making it easier for the Brit to continue his ministrations across your skin.

Looking up at you imploringly, his tattoo-covered hand tugged gently at the waistband of your pants, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded eagerly, lifting your hips slightly so he could tug the offending material off.

He lightly nipped at your hip, pressing a kiss to sooth the heated skin before continuing his actions to the other side. Small love bites, kisses, short presses of his tongue to your skin as he continued to move down your body. Lifting a leg to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, you moaned at the action.

It didn’t take long for your panties to join the discarded pants, his eyes hungrily taking in the display. You couldn’t help the self-conscious thoughts, your legs instinctively closing around his body. 

“Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl,” he said, his hands pushing your legs open.

A finger gently pressed to your core, parting your lips as he ran a finger through them, collecting the wetness that was seeping from you. A tiny whimper departed your lips as you watched Lewis bring the finger to his mouth, sucking the collected juices from the digit.

It was like watching a man possessed as he got in between your legs, your hands finding their way to his head as the first press of his tongue resonated throughout your body.

There was no surprise that he was skilled with his tongue, the same way he was skilled with his fingers; the same way he was skilled when he put his mind to anything else he desired success in.

His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, pressing against the spot inside your core that had you practically keening for him, your hips pressing up against his face; the only thing keeping his mouth from drowning in your wetness was the hand he had pressed to your pelvis, pushing you back down against the bed.

A loud moan fell from your lips as Lewis sucked at your clit, a third finger joining the other two inside you, a squelching sound vibrating throughout the living space as you felt yourself hit your peak.

Your orgasm crashed through you, your legs shaking as Lewis’ fingers and tongue slowed down, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. Your head was still thrown back when you heard the sound of more clothes hitting the floor, your eyes peaking open to a view that had your mouth practically watering.

It was common knowledge that Lewis was an incredible sight. From his hardened muscles, to the pops of ink that covered his body, everyone knew he was gorgeous. But his cock? All you wanted to do was wrap your lips around it, which in time, you knew you’d be able to.

But for now? All Lewis wanted to do was press inside you, feel the way your walls pulled him in, the way your wetness coated him, the way you’d stretch so lovely around him.

“On your knees, pretty girl. I wanna’ see this lovely arse when I push inside you for the first time, been thinking about it lots.”

You were quick to do as he demanded, flipping your body over so you were on your knees, resting on your elbows as you felt the couch dip behind you.

A low whimper fell from your lips as you felt him run his length through your wetness, coating his cock in your juices before pressing the tip inside. The stretch was delicious, your body pushing back against his, begging for more.

Obliging, his entire length pushed forward, your lips wrapping around him, the wetness dripping from your core making it easier for him to slide inside.

“Gonna fuck you so good, make you never wanna leave, baby. Can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock, been wanting to feel that for ages,” he whispered in your ear, biting at the lobe as he pulled away.

Moans and grunts fell from your lips with every thrust of his hips, his body seeking the release he knew yours could give him. The way he made you feel, the feelings his body evoked from yours; it made you insatiable, made you crave the feeling more and more. Made you regret ever believing his comments were simply a joke.

anyways. i got carried away. please enjoy (reader has a hand kink specifically for lewis as i also do sorry!!! bye!!!)

[strangersteddierthings]

"What's wrong?" Robin asks, bumping her arm against his as she joins him leaning against the counter, staring out the front door of Family Video.

Steve doesn't bother to lie. Robin would know, she always does. "I'm not sure wrong is the right word, but it's, it's something."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah," he says, taking a quick glance around. It's just after 11pm on Saturday. They've got another hour of work before they can officially close, but Hawkins closes down at 9. The store is empty currently, and since they're facing the door, they'll know if someone comes in. "I just don't know- I don't-"

"Gather your words. Speak when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere," Robin says, and it speaks volumes that she didn't call him dingus. Steve's never upset by the nickname, not really, but sometimes, when the conversation is heavy, he can't deal with nicknames. Especially not ones that are meant teasingly now but started as an insult.

"I feel- I feel ungrateful and, like, selfish, because I'm... I'm not happy with Eddie," Steve says, then immediately frowns because that's not right. It's not wrong, either, but it's. "I'm not unhappy with Eddie. I love him. I love him so much, Robin."

"I know you do. It's disgusting."

"And I got into this relationship knowing what Eddie's like. I love him 'cause of those things, not in spite of-"

"You don't have to convince me you love him."

"Right. Right. It's just. It's like, I thought, I don't know, that I wouldn't have to always be the guy?" Steve says, and it's followed by such a long pause that he looks over. It startles a laugh out of him at how much Robin looks like him right now. Confused, brow furrowed and mouth slightly open. That's his perplexed expression, and it's mirrored on Robin's face now.

Well. Not now because he laughed so she's glaring at him.

"Sorry. It was like looking into a mirror for a moment there."

She wrinkles her nose at him and says, "What do you mean 'always be the guy'?"

He lets out a sigh. "I just mean- Eddie's the first guy I've ever dated. And there was, like, unwritten rules when dating girls. Don't give me that face, I already know the rant about straights and their het-ro-norman-whatever-"

"Heteronormativity."

"Yes, that. I know it's bad, working on unlearning it, etcetera, etcetera. Can I just get through this using the words I do have?"

"Yes. Sorry."

He waves off her apology and continues, "So, the unwritten but absolute rules of straight dating. The guy asks. The guy plans the date. He pays, if it's something that requires money. He gets the door, offers his jacket if it's cold, gives the flowers and chocolates on Valentines Day and- sorry. The guy does all that. I do all that. And I just. I want to not, not have to?"

Robin's eyes soften and she gives a sad smile. "Eddie doesn't do those things?"

Steve frowns. "Not- he's done some of those things but it's not... It's never been romantic. Never felt... intentionally romantic. Which is why I feel so ungrateful and selfish. 'Cause Eddie's not a romantic. Not like I am. And I shouldn't expect him to be!"

She frowns. "But you don't expect him to be."

"I mean, yeah. I don't. Which just makes this worse, right? Because Eddie tries. In his own way. And I'm still..."

"What does Eddie do to try?"

"He loans me jackets when I'm cold. And it's- it's like a throwback to the upside down. He'll fold it all nice and then throw it at me full force. Like with the battle vest," Steve smiles at the memory, despite his sour mood.

"That doesn't sound very romantic. That sounds like an inside joke. He could do that same thing while not dating you and it wouldn't be weird."

"Can't an inside joke be romantic?"

Robin nods as she turns, back to the counter so she can hop up on it. "Can be. And I guess if you find get pelted in the face by jackets romantic, that's your kink."

"Why do I talk to you?" Steve groans, and Robin shrugs. "Anyway, I guess I just... I want to be the one taken care of, sometimes, but not just when- God, I'm so selfish, aren't I?" He paces away from the counter, running a hand through his hair.

Eddie's a good boyfriend. He listens when Steve rambles about sports and stats, asking questions and actually engages in conversation. He takes care of Steve when a migraine leaves him all but useless; gets him his meds and water and combs his fingers through Steve's hair softly until it lulls Steve to sleep. Eddie pays attention enough to know the little things about Steve that he doesn't say out loud.

"Not just when?" Robin prompts, and Steve realizes he quit talking.

"Not just when I'm hurt. I want doors held for me, and for him to plan a romantic night, either out or in! And I- I want him to give me his jacket by wrapping it around my shoulders like I do for him."

"I'm going to say something, and you aren't allowed to be upset by it."

Steve nods.

"You have to tell him. Eddie's not gonna know you want these things unless you say so."

He nods again, because he knows that. He does. It's just... "I got with him knowing he wasn't a romantic person. I don't want- I don't know how to say it without making it sound like I want him to change. Or make him feel like he's not enough, or that he's a bad boyfriend for not having done this and-"

"Steve! Jesus, now who's the mirror? It's Eddie. He loves you. He'll listen. Even as you fumble your way through an explanation. A conversation is not the make or break of this relationship."

Steve swallows even though it feels like there's stones piling up in his stomach. A single conversation broke his last relationship, but Eddie's not Nancy.

"Yeah. You're right. I think I'm just... I'm afraid of making Eddie feel that same way Nancy made me feel, when she called us bullshit. I was blinded-sided by it all and I don't, I can't do that to Eddie."

"You won't. 'Cause this situation is different. You love Eddie, and Eddie loves you, and that's real and true. I think it would hurt Eddie more to think there's this whole other category of shit he could be doing for you, but isn't, 'cause he doesn't even know you'd like it, much less want it."

Steve nods as she speaks. It's all true, and he feels less like there are stones in his stomach. "Thanks, Bobbin. I don't- I might give it a few days before I talk to Eddie about it, but I will."

"You better, dingus," she hopes off the counter and looks at the clock, groaning when she sees it's still not midnight. "Think Keith will kill us if we close early?"

"No way. He'd have to cover all our shifts until he can hire replacements. We're too valuable to him to die."

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @skepsiss @afewproblems

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

[aberrantthornes]

Sorry for falling of the face of the earth, unannounced for the past days. Been feeling a bit under the weather on top of having an allergic reaction and I just didn't have the strength to do anything. I am gonna try and get back into writing once I am feeling better.

[reidmotif]

Please, Please, Please

Summary: Spencer makes a promise he can't keep to Reader, and pays the price. (Requested by Anon!)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warning: allusions to reader wearing makeup, unhappy ending

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another / I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

I felt like despite it all, the scene was a little comical. 

Half eaten cake plates, all strewn around haphazardly around my apartment, balloons and streamers meant to commence the sunniness of the day, and yet my disposition was anything but. 

I’d asked him, a million times over and then some if he was absolutely sure he’d manage to make it. I’d never been the type to demand anything, I was fine with an answer that wasn’t in the affirmative and yet there he went, reassuring me that “I’ll come” and promising he “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Well someone must’ve given Spencer Reid the fucking world, because here we were, party over and Spencer very obviously not here.

I’d stupidly gotten excited over it too, which only added to the growing bubble of resentment I felt. I’d promised my friends that after the last dozen times he’d flaked on shared plans, he’d be here this one time. None of them believed me.

 I kept grinning, reassuring them he’d come. I kept imagining my charming boyfriend surprising them all, holding some extravagant gift in his hand and sweeping me into his arms with the other one. He’d compliment my makeup, or maybe he’d kiss me right then and there,  and I’d finally be able to introduce him to everyone. I would be able to relish in how lucky I’d gotten to have such a wonderful man in my life that I cared for so deeply. I’d share stories about the memories we’d made, and spend an incredibly special day with an incredibly special person. 

That’s what I’d imagined. Instead, my friends and other guests looked on in pity as I watched the front door, for a man who couldn’t care less to commit to any one of our plans. Guests slowly trailed out as the party came to an end, and I was left there, cleaning up the remnants of Spencer’s empty promises to me.

Fuck this.

Finally, I hear the doorbell ring. Fun. He comes half an hour later once the party’s ended. I unlock the door and see him standing there, sheepish and apologetic.  There’s a sad little bouquet in his hands, which I assume is there to assuage me from the anger I felt, but it did absolutely nothing to placate me. 

“Baby I’m so-“ Spencer starts.

“Save it. I am sick of this.” I say, my nostrils flaring as he stares at me from the doorway.

“Please. It was work. I was- it slipped my mind.” He replies, trying to reason with me. 

I felt an angry laugh bubble over me, disbelief clouding my features. “You forgot?! Are you fucking kidding me?” 

There’s a pause. “No..? No. I’m not kidding.” He mumbles. 

“So much for an eidetic memory.” I think to myself, snarking in my own head at the mess of a man infront of me.

I used to think he’d hang the damn stars in the sky for me.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I say, a firmness in my voice. 

Spencer straightens up. He swallows and nods. “Yeah, no.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck.  “Let’s table this for tomorrow. How about we go upstairs and just cuddle and forget about today? Yeah?”

He’s speaking with that infuriatingly comforting tone, attempting to step forward, to envelope me in that warmth only he could. As soon as his hand made contact with my shoulder, though, I glare at him, shooting daggers with my eyes before forcibly removing him off, much to his dismay and heartbreak.

I ignore it all.

“No.” I interrupt. “I can’t do this anymore. You. I can’t do you anymore.” I say, gesturing between us.

The moment he processes the words, the heartbreak on his face is immediate, his features falling within a nanosecond. “No. I mean- no. You don’t mean that, you’re angry but please- I love you. You know that.” 

“Do I?” I responded, eyebrows raising with a condescending edge to my tone. “When have you once shown up for me the way I show up for you? Love isn’t transactional Spencer, but Jesus. This isn’t love. This isn’t how you treat someone you love.” I say, fuming. 

“You know how my job is. You know that.” He says, voice on the verge of breaking. 

“And you knew how important this was to me!” I responded. “This hurts, Spencer! I don’t know if you get that, but it does. I feel so- so humiliated!”

“Humiliated?” He asks, softly. 

“Humiliated. Crushed. I go on like an absolute ditz for the better part of this week about how excited I was to introduce my boyfriend to everyone, and then he doesn’t show up. Wonderful.” I say, a bite in my tone. “Sad girl at her birthday party. What a fucking cliche.” 

“So, what? Is this about your ego?” He fires back, slightly defensive. “I know I fucked up, but- but this is too much. My actions do not warrant this.”

“You know what?” I fire back.  “Yeah. Maybe it is my ego. Sue me for believing that maybe, just maybe, I believe I deserve better than someone who can’t bother to commit to a promise.” I say, a bit more resigned now as my statement came to a close. I roll my eyes. “You’re not the relationship I want nor the one I deserve.”

His eyebrows raise, face further conveying the state of distress he was in. He licks his lips, sensing that this conversation is coming to a fast end and shakes his head, trying hard to save face. “Please let me make it up to you. Let me be the person you deserve. You.. You know how important you are to me.” 

His eyes are shining. Brown doe eyes glistening with tears and my heart twists at the sight, but his words only aim to wound me further.

I sigh, feeling a prick of tears for the first time this whole conversation. My feelings of anger were slowly replaced with a deeper sadness as I replied.

“No, Spencer. I really don’t.” 

I shut the door before I have to endure anymore of his crestfallen expression. 

So much for a good birthday.

so woahh. do we do a part 2 ? who knows. sorry about the unhappy ending. anyway, this if my first time doing an angst piece like this! let me know what you think lmfao. any comments, likes, reblogs, ect ect are sooo deeply appreciated <3 thank you for reading!!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Command Me 1/2

knight!benji blackwood x strong!fem!reader //

oc!brandon stark x strong!fem!reader

Summary: Your mother thinks it’s best you marry sooner rather than later and betrothes you to a man you’ve never met from the north. The only say you have in your life at the moment is picking out a sworn protector. Your marriage leaves you unhappy and unfulfilled and Benji has no problem helping in anyway he can. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mentions of murder, arranged marriage, wine, age gap, marriage duties, unhappy marriage, moon tea, cheating, oral(f receiving), p in v, bit angsty ngl

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, no explicit detail of oc!stark and y/n intimate moments

Word Count: 5.4k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

My ears start ringing as my mother’s words start to float around my head. I focus on my breathing as I feel like I’m gasping for air. The council members nod around the table as I can hear the blood pumping throughout my body. She places her hand on mine and looks to me expectantly. 

“What?” I shake my head confused. 

“I asked if you wanted to travel back with Cregan to meet your betrothed.” she says with a smile that tells me I’ll have a scolding later. 

“Absolutely not.” I take my hand from hers and place it in my lap. 

“That is fine, Princess. My uncle won’t mind coming down here for you.” he offers me a smile that doesn’t seem genuine. 

“He shouldn’t since he’s my king consort.” I scoff. 

“Y/n.” my mothers tone low and warning. 

“I await his arrival in anticipation, my Lord.” I nod my head and push my chair back against the stone. If looks could kill my mother would have me stringed up against the council chamber walls. I walk out of the hall and practically start sprinting out of the castle. 

“Princess!” guards shout after me as I take a horse from the courtyard and gallop into the city. The city folk move out of my way as I race to the pits. I abandon the horse outside and call for the dragon keepers to wake my dragon. The ground begins to shutter as my dragon emerges. 

“Hello my handsome boy.” I coo as he pushes into me. I admire his black scales that simmer the brightest lilac in the sun and begin to mount. Once my clips are in place he’s running us out of the pit as we both share the sentiment to get out of this city. As we fly over Kings Landing my dragon gives a fearsome cry and we shoot off to the Kings Wood. 

The breeze flows through my hair and I finally feel some relief. I lean down and hug my dragon as he offers me a deep rumble. I beat my mother by two years for youngest dragon rider. I was five when I first mounted him and he brought us about the city giving high pitched screeches at the common folk. Ever since then we would disappear for a week or more to just fly and explore.

She would send countless parties in search of me but we quickly found caves that would keep us hidden. She’s learned where I go now so I decide to just stick to the Kings Wood to avoid the yelling I’m sure to receive. We land in the cover of the tree canopies by the lake and sprawl out in the sun. I rest my head on his tail as he buries his head into the tall grass scaring away the mice and bugs. 

“I can’t believe she would marry me off to some old northerner.” I sigh looking up at the clouds. My dragon offers me a deep chuff. 

I hear the high pitched dragon call before I see him. As Caraxes comes into view I sigh at her sending him. She knows that we butt heads like bulls so I’m not sure what she’s expecting from this. Daemon lands and begins to walk over to me and my dragon raises his head and bares his teeth. 

“Relax, mother would kill me.” I pat my dragons thigh chuckling and look to Daemon expectantly. 

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re not my child.” he chuckles as he approaches. 

“I don’t know why you would think that. You never raised me and still don’t.” I look up to him from the ground intent on staying where I am. 

“Fair enough,” he sits on the ground and looks to me with a taunting smile. 

“What?” I snap sitting up. 

“Your mother wants you back at the Keep. She wants you to pick out a sworn protector for yourself.” he studies me as I roll my eyes. 

“As if I’ll have a choice in the matter.” I push myself up and my dragon rises behind me. I mount him and leave Daemon behind at the lake. When I land back at the pits my mother is there waiting for me with a furrowed brow. The carriage ride back to the Keep is silent and when we stop in the inner courtyard I try to run off to my chambers but she stops me. 

“What’s wrong?” she searches my eyes. 

“I don’t want to marry some second son from the north who I’ve never met and you think allowing me to pick a sworn protector will fix that?” I rise my hands at a loss. 

“Into the Keep now.” she says lowly and I see the eyes on us from around the grounds. She brings us into her solar and I huff sitting on the couch. 

“You remind me so much of my younger self.” she hums with a soft smile. 

“Mm,” I nod my head wanting to be back with my dragon or in my chambers. 

“You may find love with Brandon.” my mother tries to hide her wince. 

“So that’s his name. How bland. Brandon the Bland I should call him.” I groan throwing my head back against the couch. 

“Y/n I worked hard to make this match. You will treat him with respect. He comes from an honorable and noble house.” her voice starts rising. 

“I don’t care if he’s noble,” I shake my head angry. “I don’t know him, I don’t want him,” I feel tears start forming and I wipe them away frustrated with the world.

“Sweet girl,” 

“Don’t sweet girl me.” I rise from the couch. “I’m tempted to get in my dragon and flee to where you’ll never find me.” I run out of her chambers and straight into Jace. I push him back and he calls after me. 

I seal myself in my chambers and let my tears flow freely. I don’t care about a husband or a sworn protector. I don’t care about the crown or ruling. I hear the whispers everyday about who my father is and how dark my hair is. I don’t want to be ridiculed for the entirety of my rule especially with some man who doesn’t even know me. 

“I’m not here to baby you. Get up and let’s go.” Daemons voice comes from the other side of the door. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” I yell back through the wood. He pushes the door open harshly and grabs my arm pulling me with him. 

“Your mother has been inviting these knights here for well over a moon. You will not embarrass her.” he says through his teeth pulling me down the stairs. I start to push and hit his hand off as the servants in the hall advert their eyes from our spat. We stumble down the rest of the stairs and we stare at each other waiting to see what the other does. I go to pull my arm back and he pulls me closer with a scowl on his face. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” I spit out at him. 

“You’re causing a scene.” he tugs me along to the hall and as we enter all of the knights turn to look at me. I push Daemon off of me and look over the men before me with a raised chin and a death glare. 

“Leave.” I wave off Daemon and the men before me look at the ground as if it’s the most interesting. 

“Step forward if you’re from Kings Landing or the Queens guard.” I hum and a handful of men step forward. “You are dismissed.” I nod them to the door and they look at me with their mouth agape and I look at the five remaining men. 

“If you are from the north step forward.” two men slowly step forward. “You are dismissed.” I look over them unamused. 

“You three are the only remaining.” I offer them a serpentine smile. “Tell me why I should choose you.” I take a seat and watch them look at me. 

“I am a Dornish Swordsman and trained along side Ser Criston-“ 

“A mistake. You are dismissed.” I wave him off and place my head in my hand bored. “Next.”

“Princess,” the man older than Daemon nods his head. “I trained this young man here. He was recently knighted and easily my best student. Anything and everything he knows, I taught him.” he sounds proud. 

“So the most obvious choice is him then? You’re old and withering and he’s young,” I look over the man next to him who only seems to be a handful of years older than me. “Did you even come here to try for a place as my sworn protector?” I look over the old man. 

“I- Princess, I’m-“ 

“Enough,” I wave him off. “You’re dismissed.” 

I turn my head back to the man in front of me and tilt my head. I study him with squinted eyes and can see that he has the muscle required for this job. He’s easy on the eyes which will be a welcome reprieve if my betrothed isn’t. He stands with a puffed out chest and confidence pouring off of him and I rise and walk in front of him. I look up to him and he nods his head down to me. 

“Tell me your name.” I look into his eyes and smile when I see no fear. 

“Ser Benjicot Blackwood.” his voice flows through my ears like honey. 

“Mm a Riverman,” I smile. “I’ve had some great times in taverns outside Raventree Hall when I was on the run.” I chuckle thinking back. 

“On the run from what, my Princess?” he offers me a soft smile. 

“My life and duties.” I shrug. “It looks like you’re the last knight standing Benji.” his spine straightens at the name. 

“It seems that I am.” he nods chewing his lip, the only sign that he has some nerves about being dismissed. 

“Then you shall be my new sworn protector.” a smile pulls across my face as his shoulders relax and he returns my smile. 

“Y/n,” my mother bursts into the hall in a rampage. 

“I’ve chosen Benji.” I turn to her with a smile and she looks him over. 

“You didn’t even give the other men a chance.” she seethes. “Why must everything be like this with you?” she sighs shaking her head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today is the day Brandon gets to Kings Landing and I try to convince the maester I’m sick and can’t meet him. He knows my antics and deems me healthy. I’m being tied into a gown as pins are being stuck into my head holding my braids in place. I kick my handmaidens out after hours saying I just needed a moment to myself and I’ll be down shortly. 

“Are you ready, Princess?” Benjis voice comes through my doors. 

“Can you come in?” my voice soft and he slips into my chambers leaving the door open. 

“What can I do for you, Princess?” he looks over my dress and I see him swallow before his eyes make his way to mine. 

“Did you see him?” my voice hushed. 

“I did.” he nods standing up straighter. 

“Do you think he’s handsome?” I pick at my nails. 

“I don’t know how to answer that.” he says clearing his throat. 

“Benji,” I whine. “It’s simple. Does he look old and decrepit or does he look like you?” his eyes snap to mine and I smirk at him. 

“Your betrothed is waiting for you, Princess.” he turns to walk out of my chambers and I sigh and walk to his side. 

As we make our way down to the main hall I groan and drag my feet. Benji chuckles and slows his pace to stay with me. Over the past moon I’m thankful everyday to this man for traveling here to become my sworn protector. He jokes with me and keeps me company. He is also handsome which I never cease to remind him as his cheeks tint. 

“If I asked you to kill my betrothed would you?” I whisper to Benji. 

“It is my duty to do anything you ask of me.” he nods his head and I smile. 

As we walk into the hall my stomach drops as my eyes land on Brandon. My mother can’t possibly be serious. This man has to have almost two decades on me. I find my mother and I scrunch my eyebrows at her and begin walking to her. 

“Princess,” a gruff voice stops my feet as I turn to Brandon who is looking over my body like a starved man. I step back into Benji and he steadies me. 

“You’re Brandon I presume?” I raise my eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I am.” he grabs my hand much to my horror and places a wet kiss on it. 

“How kind.” I hope my disgust isn’t written over my face. 

“Y/n,” my mother’s worried voice calls me over to her side and I’m practically sprinting to her. 

“I would rather die than marry that man.” I hiss to my mother. 

“That’s enough. You will be married by the end of this moon and that’s final.” I feel so stuck and I turn and see that Brandon is walking back over here. 

“Could I offer you a walk through the gardens, Princess?” Brandon offers me his and I stare at it and look to my mother who nods encouragingly. 

“Sure,” I sigh. “Benji let’s go.” I nod my head for him to follow. 

“Your dog doesn’t need to come with.” Brandon chuckles and I cement my feet. 

“He is not my dog. You will treat my sworn protector with respect or I’ll have him take your tongue.” I look over Brandon who is smiling. 

“Feisty, I like it.” he smiles grabbing my arm and tugging me out of the hall. 

It takes all of my strength not to rip my arm out of his hand. I lead us to the gardens and the silence is anything but comfortable. I look at Brandon out of the corner of my eye and see his years written on his wrinkled forehead. I shiver of disgust runs through me as we enter the gardens. He leads us to the nearest table and sits down and I take a place across from him. 

“You are more beautiful than Cregan lead on.” he hums licking his lips. 

“Did he say anything else?” I drawl looking him over. 

“That I would probably have to wear you down a bit but that’s not an issue, I have great stamina.” he winks at me and I know there’s no hiding the horror on my face. “Mm tell me, do you still have your maidenhead?” his smile makes me feel disgusting. 

“Is that anyway to speak to a Princess?” Benjis voice just short of a growl. 

“She’s to be my wife, boy.” Brandon looks over him and turns his eyes back to me. “Well do you or are you sullied?” 

“I do.” my voice barely a whisper as I feel my cheeks heat. 

“There’s one plus.” he leans back in his seat and looks me over. “I thought you Targaryens were supposed to have silver hair?” he tilts his head. 

“The Gods are mysterious.” I clench my jaw. How could my mother do this to me? I know I wasn’t the easiest child to raise but she can’t possibly think I will be willing to wed this man. My heart starts to beat rapidly and I’m getting overwhelmed. 

“What’s wrong with you now?” Brandon narrows his eyes at me. 

“Benji can you take me to the maester? I feel faint.” I reach for his arm and he’s bending down and helping me to my feet instantly. 

“What’s wrong?” Benjis voice is rushed as he searches my face. 

“I’m hot and I just can’t breathe.” I all but gasp as we make it into the Keep. 

“Just a bit further, Y/n.” he keeps a steady hand around my waist and on out for me to hold on to. 

“Thank you, Benji.” I sigh in relief as we make it to the maesters chambers. 

“Princess what’s wrong?” the maester helps me lay on the bed. 

“She said she’s overheating and her breathing was heavy.” Benji says brushing my hair back. 

“Were you doing something strenuous?” the maester asks as he fills me a glass of water. 

“No, I was just-“ 

“What’s happened?” my mother bursts into the room. 

“Mother,” my voice breaks as I reach out to her. “Please, don’t make me, please,” I start crying and Benji and the maester look worried. 

“What do you mean sweet girl?” she shushes me kneeling at my side. 

“I’ll be better,” I hiccup. “Don’t make me marry that old man, please, mother.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“Leave us.” she waves her hand at Benji and the maester who are shutting the door behind them quickly. “What possibly could’ve happened?” she sits back looking over my state. 

“He made remarks about bedding me and he made remarks about who my father was.” I sit up looking to her with pleading eyes. “Mother please,” I feel the tears start to well up. 

“Just give it a chance. Maybe he was just excited to see such a beautiful young woman.” she offers me a smile and I sigh knowing I don’t have a choice. 

“I will keep Benji with me. I don’t want to be alone with Brandon.” I shake my head furrowing my brows. 

“Of course you two shouldn’t be alone before you wed.” she nods her head. 

“I don’t want to wed him mother, please.” my voice breaking again as I continue to plead.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It feels as if there are rocks in my stomach as I’m twirled around the dance floor. Brandon pulls me back against him and dips down to my ear. His tongue trails along the outer shell and I try to pull back but he holds me firm. When he lifts his head he chuckles at my red cheeks and the crowd claps as our dance ends. 

“Go get a drink and stop being so uptight.” I slip into the crowd trying to keep a smile pinned on my face as I head to find wine. Gods know I’ll need it for tonight. I can’t believe my mother made me go through with this. 

The servant offers me a fresh glass and congratulations on my marriage and I smile and nod. I walk to the outskirts of the crowd and try to calm my nerves. I focus on my breathing and let the hall and celebrations fade away. 

“I wanted to tell you that you look absolutely divine, Princess. I know it’s not my place but I needed to tell you.” Benjis voice is barely a whisper as I turn to him. 

“I wish I wed you tonight.” I feel the tears form and ready to fall. 

“Princess,” Benjis voice strained. 

“I know,” I shake my head wiping my eyes. “Just don’t leave me, please.” my eyes pleading. 

“Anything you ask.” he nods his head. “I am sworn to you.” 

“Thank you.” I finish my glass of wine and head back over to Brandon. 

“Feeling better?” Brandon pulls me against him.

“Much.” I smile trying to pretend I’m not repulsed at his touch. 

“The Princess and I will retire for the night.” he announces loudly and there are rowdy cheers that follow. I feel like my legs are about to give out as he starts to pull me off the dais. I search frantically around the hall for Benji even though I know he can’t stop what’s to come. 

“I’ll escort you both.” Benji comes behind us as Brandon chuckles. 

“Do you expect to witness the act itself too, boy?” Brandon roars out a laugh. 

“No.” I say quickly. 

“Embarrassed, my innocent wife?” I feel my cheeks heat and I bite my tongue deciding to stay silent. We stop outside of his chambers and he pulls me inside sealing the door leaving Benji on the other side. 

I knew what tonight was going to entail but I had hoped he would’ve been more kind and caring of my needs and wants. I performed my duty as best as I could but it didn’t make it any more enjoyable or less painful. He pulls me up from the bed and pushes me out of his doors leaving me in the halls in my slip holding my wedding dress. I look down at the stone floor as it cools my bare feet. 

“Princess?” Benjis voice is soft as he stands in front of me. 

“Can you please take me back to my chambers?” I whisper continuing to look down. 

He pulls his cape off and wraps it around me. I drop my wedding gown outside Brandon’s chambers as I cling to the cape. As we start up the stairs I wince at the pain between my thighs. We make it to my chambers and a sob of relief bubbles out of me. I turn towards Benji to thank him and see that his jaw is set and he looks ready to murder someone. 

“I need you to command me to stay right here. In this exact spot. Or I will walk down those stairs and make you a widow.” I can feel his temper rising around us and I’m tempted to let him make me a widow this very second but this isn’t a decision to be made in haste.

“I need you here with me. I need you to find a servant to bring me water for a bath and I need you to do something with discretion.” my voice hushed as I look around the halls. 

“Anything.” he nods his head searching my eyes. 

“Go to the maester. Offer him good coin for his silence. Say you had a lapse in judgment and slept with a maid and you need moon tea. Please Benji, I can’t have his child.” I beg. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Brandon pushes me outside of his chambers again and I see Benji clenching his fists. He falls into step beside me as we walk silently back to my chambers. I gave up on wearing slippers to his chambers because the cool stone on the walk back helps ground me. This has been happening once every fortnight for the past three moons and I either have Benji or my personal handmaiden retrieve my moon tea. 

“I’ll be back with the tea.” Benji says lowly leaving me at my chamber doors. 

“Benji I don’t need,” I stutter. “He made me suck-“ I shake my head feeling my cheeks burn and I hear him deeply inhale. 

“Princess,” his voice like gravel as his eyes slide to mine. 

“Can you just come in with me?” my voice barely audible as I hold my door open. He sighs and follows allowing the door to shut behind us. 

“What can I do for you?” he stands at my doors back ridged. 

“I just need you to be here with me,” I sit and he claims the chair furthest from me. “Do you find me repulsive now that I’m sullied?” I don’t mean for my words to sound as pathetic as they do. 

“I could never find you repulsive.” he replies quickly. “I think you’re the most ethereal being I’ve ever met.” his voice laced with reverence. 

“Why do you think my husband wants to cause me so much pain? Or is that how it’s supposed to feel? I don’t have anyone to talk to.” I fidget my fingers and hear his sharp inhale. 

“It wouldn’t hurt if he was worshiping you properly. He’s a fool he should have his face buried,” he stops himself and finds his composure. “I’m sorry, please forgive my words Princess.” 

“The only place his face is buried is my neck as he ruts into me. I used to try to think of someone else in hopes that it would make it more pleasurable but when that didn’t help I just learned to keep my eyes squeezed shut and toss out a couple fake moans.” I should feel embarrassed to be divulging this to Benji but it feels so relieving to talk to someone about it. 

“He should be able to tell the difference.” he shakes his head as I see his knuckles turning white from his grip on the chair. 

“I don’t know I can be convincing.” I allow myself to chuckle.  “Yeah, so good,” I moan followed by a whimper and I burst out in giggles as Benjis head snaps up to me. 

“Has he made you come?” his dark eyes search my face. 

“No.” I shake my head as my blush revives on my neck. “He just uses me and throws me out of his chambers. I could live with it if I at least got that relief but I just get to walk back to my chambers and go to bed.” I sigh leaning back in the chair. 

“Can I, I want to,” he bites his lip turning away. “I should let you rest for the night.” he starts to stand. 

“Say it.” I nod my head prompting him. 

“Can I make you come?” my heart skips at his words and I nod my head quickly. “I need to hear you say it.” his voice wrecked. 

“Can you please make me come, Benji?” I bat my eyelashes at him. He rises from the chair and stalks over to me. He towers over me before he kneels before me and begins to trail his hands up my legs spreading them. My cheeks burn as my core is exposed to his face and he looks up to me with hooded eyes. 

“Has he ever kissed you here before?” he asks propping my legs on his shoulders. 

“No,” I shake my head gasping at the coolness of his metal armor on my calves. 

“May I?” he looks up to me as he places soft kisses on the inside of my thighs. 

“Please Benji,” I reply breathlessly. 

He licks up my slit and my chest heaves. His tongue circles my neglected bud and I push my hips into his mouth. Whimpers pour from my mouth as he pulls me flush against his face. He moans into my center as my hips grind against him. I brush against his nose and I moan loudly burying my hand in his hair holding him close. I continue to buck against him as he laps at me. 

“Benji, I-“ I sob as pleasure washes over me and his tongue continues to work me through it. He pulls back and looks up to me with a smile on his face. 

“Those moans sounded nothing like what you did before.” his words laced with confidence. 

“I want to come again.” I say still trying to catch my breath. 

“As you command, Princess.” he dips back between my legs. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Benji is walking me back to my chambers after a particularly rough night with Brandon. I’m starting to loathe my husband more than I thought possible. Benji follows me into my chambers and seals the doors behind us. 

“Your handmaiden should be back with the tea shortly.” he sits on a chair in front of me trying to gauge my emotions. 

“Would you still kill him if I asked?” I look up to him and he nods. 

“Just say the word.” he searches my eyes. 

“Maybe we use poison or something so they won’t know it’s you.” I nibble on my lip trying to come up with a plan. 

“It’d have to be one that would make him suffer. He doesn’t deserve an easy way out.” he shakes his head working himself up. 

“Your devotion never ceases to amaze me.” I look to him and stand as there’s a soft knock at my door. “Thank you.” I smile at my handmaiden and click the door shut once again. I drain the contents of the cup and join Benji on the chairs again. 

“When do you want him dead?” his tone low as he watches my slip rise up. 

“As soon as possible. I can’t take it anymore.” I sigh stretching. “You can say no because I know where I just came from but can you make me feel good Benji? I want to forget everything.” I slide my eyes to him. 

“I will always want you.” he starts to rise from his chair. 

“I need you, Benji. Show me how good it can feel.” I plead as I pull him over to the bed. 

We start to remove his armor and when I finally lift off his shirt and feel his bare chest I groan. He pulls my slip above my head and leaves me bare before him. He pulls me into a kiss and I melt into him as our chests mold together. I unlace his trousers and he begins to kick them off. We fall back onto the bed and I feel his hardness pressed against my leg. I buck against him waiting for him to push into me. 

“There’s no rush, I’m taking my time with you.” he kisses down my neck and between my breasts. He licks across them and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I gasp as he swirls his tongue around my hardened peak and my nails hold onto his back. He chuckles and moves the next to offer it the same attention. 

“Benji,” I gasp as he grazes his teeth across my nipple before pulling up. 

“There’s a lot of pleasure I can show you, Princess.” he kisses down my navel and I buck my hips in anticipation. “Do you wanna come?” he chuckles pressing my hips into the bed. 

“Please Benji,” I cry out as his lips attach to my bud. 

As he circles his tongue I feel his fingers glide through my wetness and I squirm. He slips two fingers into my core and I whine squeezing my thighs around his head. When he curls his fingers I feel my high building in my lower stomach. My whines become more high pitched the faster he pumps his fingers. 

“Benji right there, yes,” I gasp as I come undone. He slowly comes back up my body trailing soft kisses. “I need you in me.” I wrap my legs around his waist. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop at any point.” his eyes look to mine and I nod kissing him softly. 

He slowly pushes in and I whimper at his stretch. He slowly rocks his hips into me as I mewl clinging to him. He rolls his hips and a broken moan falls from my lips. The difference is absolutely mind blowing. The pleasure he is pulling from my body has me feeling as if I’m flying through the sky. 

“How does it feel, Princess?” Benji rasps as I clench around him. 

“I’m so full of you, Benji.” I gasp holding him closer. He starts to pump into me at a quicker pace and my eyes roll back. His fingers find my throbbing bud causing his name to fall from my lips like a prayer. I pulse around him losing myself to my pleasure and I feel him begin to fill me. He slides out of me and pulls me against his chest kissing my face and smoothing my hair. I feel safe and loved in his arms.

“I’m gunna kill your husband tomorrow.” he promises as he rests his forehead on mine. 

“Thank you, Benji.” I capture his lips as we get lost in each other once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

Part Two

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[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Bonus DP x DC prompt “Star-crossed lovers” to this prompt where Batclan ship “Pitch Pearl”

"Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun." -Juliet (act 3, scene 2)

Red Hood stays in Amity Park to observe the situation after the romantic conflict resolution between Fenton and Phantom.

One day from a rooftop next to the Fenton Works he sees Fenton putting toxic ectoplasm in a bottle on the table, sighing and pouring it into a glass.

The horror of plunging into the Lazarus pit flashes before Jason’s eyes. Who would be crazy enough to want to experience such a thing? And for what?

As a proud bookworm, he could not help but remember the story of Romeo and Juliet at the same moment.

"My only love sprung from my only hate, too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me that I must love my enemy." -Juliet (act 1, scene 5)

Parents who are against relationships and hate the fact that their child’s partner exists? Checked out.

Dead Romeo? Uh, yeah, definitely.

Vial of poison? Freely available in the lab.

There can be only one logical conclusion: Seeing the dead lover, Fenton thinks only about how soon to die himself.

Is Fenton ready to join his lover in the Kingdom of the Dead? He has no guarantee of returning as a ghost, so why risk it?

Jason*runs to save “Juliet”*: I defy you, stars!

~~~~

Needless to say, sleep-deprived Danny is extremely unhappy when a guy in a leather jacket breaks into his house and tries to take his lunch away. 

Both boys panick, scream and absolutely not hear each other.

Jason: Don’t do this! It’s not worth it, there must be another way! 

Danny: Give me my soup back, thief! Take the turkey, it’s going to go bad.

Jason: I am serious.“ Love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.” Leave the ectoplasm to the dead ones, boy.

Danny: What a coincidence, I’m already dead deep deep inside.

Jason: Don’t joke, you should talk to a therapist.

Danny: Great idea. Jazz, help! Human in the house! This is not a drill!

Jason:..In general, both of you should talk to the Justice League. They can protect Phantom from your parents, don’t worry. You are not alone. 

~~~~

Fenton, sitting in front of the Justice League.

Flash: So, you and Phantom, how did you decide to start dating?

Danny: Well, what can I say in defense.. "Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo (act 5, scene 3)

Justice League:

Danny: Just kidding. I learned a whole quote for this. Can someone be proud of me, please? 

Batman: Hmmm

Danny: Thanks. And relax, I knew him before he died. Our relationship has always been complicated but we literally can’t exist without each other. So don’t worry about our breakup, it’s unlikely.

Danny: And don’t think I’d kill myself in such a stupid way, it’s boring. You might want to be more concerned about whether or not I’m shocking myself with a Fenton portal than watching my food. My stomach is indestructible, tested by years of ecto-contaminated cooking. But I don’t want to die. All this RIP is a complete lie. Trust me.

Red Hood: You. use to eat. ectoplasm?!

Danny: Yes, it's very nutritious. But you need to develop tolerance to it, otherwise you will be able to try it only once in a lifetime.

[baby-tini]

Thank you so much @mostlyheinous for letting me make a little post based off your one Dabi audio. I hope I made you proud. 😭

TW: abusive relationship, degradation, physical abuse, verbal abuse, toxic Dabi.

Dabi is an asshole, you knew that, hell- everyone knew that. He never tried to hide it, never feigned nice, never even tried to give a compliment. He absolutely didn't know shit about privacy and personal space, either that or he just didn't care. You're willing to bet it's the former. So it's no big surprise when Dabi bursts into your room unannounced, with a scowl. He looks severely unhappy, looking you up and down and scoffing.

"What's your problem?" you ask with a sneer, adjusting your dress. He stands quiet for a minute before rolling his eyes and giving your dress a once-over. "You look like a slut," he shrugs, shutting your door and throwing your clothes mindlessly on the floor, and plopping down on your bed- if you can even call it that, putting his nasty, muddy shoes on your comforter.

Whipping around, you throw a tube of lipgloss at him, but unfortunately he catches it, throwing it to the side. "Who the fuck are you talking too? Get the hell out Dabi, go bother someone else." You scowl at him, turning back towards the mirror. He stares at you for a moment, getting up he grabs you by the hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking you up. There's an immediate struggle on your side, hitting at his hand and pushing his chest.

"Who the fuck am I talking too? I'm talking to you bitch," there's a slap to your face, one of his rings catches your bottom, busting it open. "The fuck are you even wearing, huh? You found a new job at the street corner? How much you make a night sucking cock, hm? You let anyone fuck you, don't you? I fucking knew you felt looser, dirty bitch." There's blood leaking down your chin, getting on your chest and staining your dress. You try to push him away but he just slaps your hands away, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Dabi stop!! Let go, you're hurting me," your crying now, mascara leaking down your cheeks. Dabi rubs at your wet eyes, ruining your eyeliner in the process, he snarls at you. "Shut the fuck up, I'm not hurting you, dumb bitch." He spits on his hand, rubbing it all over your face. "There all better, now you look a little less ugly," he grins.

You're sobbing now, repeatedly attempting to push his hand away, slapping at his chest. He ignores your attempt of a broken struggle, pulling you towards the bed and throwing you on it back first. Climbing on top of you, he rips your dress open. "Stop, stop, this was expensive."

He stops at that, looking up at you, he laughs in your face. Singeing the rest of your dress, he leans back with narrowed eyes. "That shit was expensive? That fucking rag costed money? It wasn't even covering shit, you had your fucking tits out and everything- if you can even call these tits," he grabs handfuls of your chest. Pulling at your nipples through your bra and spitting on your chest. "These barely pass for a fucking B cup." His saliva drips down the valley of your breasts, making them sticky.

"Dabi... please stop, please.." your voice comes out in a croak, chest still heaving with sobs. He scoffs at you, climbing off you and running a hand through his hair. It's quiet for a few minutes, cept for your sniffles now and again. "I told you I didn't want you going out, you didn't fucking listen to me. This is all your fault you know... if you're gonna blame someone blame yourself." You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing before you nod at him. He hums at you, "are you gonna listen next time- actually there won't be a next time. You're not allowed to go out anymore if I'm not with you. I don't care if Toga asks, you come to me first." You nod at him, pushing yourself up on your hands, "I'll ask Dabi, I promise." He nods at you, "good." Throwing a make-up wipe at you, he leaves.

[tojisun]

sunnyyy!! omg omg okay so idk what you put in your toxic dbf series but im sure its crack cause i know its freaking hurtful but i love it!! ur mind is >>>>>

alsoooo, i have this idea that i plan on writing for miguel but idk where to start SO IM GIVINF IT TO YOUUU!!

so lets call her bunny in this one. say bunny is enough of his shit, won’t let him do her dirty anymore because she refuses to be stupid. she’s no longer cassie howard and moves on to another man. a man who knows what he wants and who isn’t afraid to let her know that he wants her. he’ll cherish her, he adores the fuck out of her, he shows her off and he makes a promise to put a ring on her finger,

but simon doesn’t like that. not even one bit. and it ticks him off because why is he like this? why is he so worked up that she finds someone who finally treats her better than she can? yet, he can’t let it go. he lets her know. she has to know.

and so, at two am he comes knocking at her door. flowers in his hand, nicely dressed for the first time to let her know that he’s doing it for her and only her. not erin.

and it takes a lot in her to not slam the door in his face because she’s happy right now,

“you look at him the way i wanted to be looked by you, sweetheart” he admits, swallowing the lump in his throat. “and i envy that.”

she stares at him with a deadpan look. not really feeling a single thing anymore, leading him to continue.

“i have no right to say that, i know but—“ he pauses to take a deep breath. “i want to be with you. i want to be your man and i want you to let me”

she doesn’t want him to

ANA?? ANA MY LOVE???? THIS MAKES ME VIOLENTLY ILL

thinking about this in the dbf!simon series??? oh but im absolutely sobbing // same timeline as this !!

thinking about how you cry and wail and mourn for the years wasted on simon. thinking about the way you crumple on your bed, curling underneath your sheets, your cries now having been reduced to silent tears—this doesn’t mean you feel any better. instead, you feel even more distraught, upset in a way that feels bigger than yourself.

thinking about the promise you make to yourself. how, when the morning breaks, you will move on. that no matter how painful it may be—and it will be—you will strive to let go of simon. truly and completely this time around.

and that’s what you do. you fall asleep in exhaustion, heart heavy and mind buzzed. in the morning, you blink your eyes open and lay in bed for a few more minutes, suspended above your heartbreak, before it all comes crashing down on you. tears trickle from the corners of your eyes but you stay resolute, strong grip corralling your grief into the corner of your heart, before you get your day going.

you start by throwing everything that reminds you of simon: polaroid pictures and framed photos, shirts and clothes and socks and lingeries, towels and bedsheets, trinkets and accessories from across the globe—little souvenirs he’s brought to appease you.

(in the long haul, many of them were actually donated, while some were sold. but today, as you submerged yourself in your heartache, you dumped everything in a black garbage bag. out of sight, out of mind.)

blocking simon’s number actually turned out to be last. you deleted the pictures you have with simon in your phone prior, and then blocked and deleted his number altogether.

you breathed in deeply once you’re finished and collapsed to your bed again, trying to ignore the bareness of the walls and the emptiness of your room (let alone your heart).

the tears come again—they will come more often than not—and you let them. you open the locked corner of your heart and let the grief out. you mourn for what was lost; for what could’ve been. but most importantly, you mourn for the ways you’ve let yourself be trapped in such an unhappy moment.

moving on comes slowly; it comes so torturously that you thought it would never happen. but it does, and it does so during one quiet afternoon.

on that day, you realize that not once did you think of simon. not once did the memories trickle in to rip you away from the jovial present. and as you stand there in your kitchen, the sounds of the microwave beeps piercing through mutedly, you feel remade.

you feel whole, once again.

-

simon noticed, of course. he noticed the way your messages stopped coming in, or the way you no longer use your dad as an excuse to meet simon, or the way you just fell off the radar.

simon tried to reach out to you once and realized that you’ve got his number blocked.

it’s whatever, he thinks. because simon has never known you well, has never tried to learn more about you, so he thinks that this—your silent treatment and your detachment—is all a ploy. something like you playing hard-to-get.

so simon doesn’t think much about it until days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months, and months are slowly building up to turn to a year.

simon doesn’t hear from you and, despite all his posturing, he realizes that he’s missed you. so he decides to drive by to pick you up for dinner and maybe apologize for whatever it is now that he’s done.

he gets to your dorm and rings your room. the intercom scratches awake, the person from the other side, your dorm mate he’s sure, asks who it was, and simon tells them his name. then, he tells them that he’s here for you.

there is silence for a while, almost loaded in a way that simon knows it’s not the intercom breaking up, and he gets his answer when he’s given a curt reply of, “she doesn’t want to see you. bye.” there is the distinct screech and then the line drops before simon could even ask why.

and simon feels lost. untethered.

-

john is a good man. that’s the first thing you realized. it terrified you, at first, how much you looked forward to meeting him. how much of being with him—simon’s friend—makes you happy.

you waited for the other shoe to drop, shoulders perpetually hunched as though that can shield you from the inevitable of john leaving you. of john using you.

but john is so warm. john is so gentle and kind and patient and loving.

john holds your hand and you know he isn’t looking for more. he drops you off at home, tells you to rest well and to say hi to your dorm mates, before taking off on his bike.

john kisses your cheeks and you know he isn’t looking for something more passionate. more heated. and you crave for his touch, yes, but there is something so special in the way john shows his affection—all crinkled smile and quiet chuckles; all whispered words and promises fulfilled; all soft and tender and secure.

it was a love so different, so beautiful, so really it wasn’t surprising at all when your relationship grows, thriving alongside your healing.

(he promised, you know? he promised, as he played with your hand, that he’ll one day put a ring on your finger. your lips wobbled and you told him to stop making loaded promises such as that, but john just turned to you with a soft smile and said, “i look forward to the day we share the same vow, bunny. if you would have me.”

you hiccupped sob and threw your arms over his shoulders, nodding because, “i would. john, i would!”

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and sharing warmth with you. you burrowed your head on the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in, letting his presence wash over you.

john, you thought. johnjohnjohn.)

-

simon drives to you the day after he confronted john. he drives to you with all of his messy heart spilling from the ridges of his ribs, beating only one name—yours.

he’s never felt this way before. not with all the pretty people he’s gone out with, or his first love, or even erin. erin who simon once imagined a future with. erin who simon once loved. not even that could triumph over the expanding turmoil that simon’s basking in.

he calls on the intercom of your dorm again, begs your roommate that may you please hear him out, and then he sees you.

god, you’re just as beautiful as he remembers.

“love–”

“what’re you doing here?”

your words are soft, quiet, but simon isn’t fooled. he sees the anger in your eyes, the hurt having festered into resentment. he wonders how apologies could trickle from his lips—where to even begin?

“please,” you say when simon’s silence stretches on. “just tell me whatever you want and then leave.”

“this. this is what i’m here for. the anger in your eyes– it’s just–…” he breathes in sharply. “i saw you and john, you know? and the way you look at him, it’s how i want to be looked at by you, love.” he swallows the lump in his throat. “i didn’t know what i had until i lost you and i’m so envious of him, i am, so please.”

you stare at him with wide eyes even when your face is smooth of any emotion. simon wonders what you must be thinking but he bulldozes through, hoping that you can give him one last chance.

he promises this time, truly, he’ll be better.

“i have no right to say this, i know, but–” he pauses to take a deep breath, his fists balled tightly. ���i want to be with you. i want to be your man and i want you to let me.”

a heartbeat passes, and then, “simon, you are a selfish, selfish man.”

your words are barely louder than a whisper but they scratch at simon’s heart. he looks at you, gaze turning desperate when he sees nothing but bubbling fury and disappointment in your own.

“how dare you,” you say. “you tell me that you saw me and john, and then what? instead of letting me go, instead of letting me move on, you come in here and demand that i return to you?”

“love, i–”

“don’t call me that!”

your anger tips over, now spilling out. he watches the way your eyes glisten, tears dripping to stain your cheeks.

“i’m not your anything, si! not anymore!” you take in a ragged rasp of air, choking on your sob. it tugs at simon’s heartstrings and he moves to comfort you but you pull away, sneering at him in your anger. you wipe at your eyes, scrubbing furiously.

“everything about what you’ve said just now, everything, was all about your wants. all about you. just like how it’s always been,” you murmur, the fight leaving you.

you looked small, hunching into yourself, and simon is hit with this feeling; something that lodges itself in his throat.

“lov–… i’m sorry,” he says because he is.

gods he is.

“just go,” you tell him, meeting his eyes for one last time because he knows that this is the end of it all.

you turn away from him then, closing the building door behind you. he watches from behind he glass doors as you disappear into the hallways and stepped into the elevators and, just like that, simon’s lost his chance of making things right.

ANA MY GOD THIS MADE ME FERAL!! i hope u would like this one bb :(( hope i gave ur vision justice

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

Frances: Look, I’m sorry about my friends. I swear, they aren’t that weird all the time. Well… 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] It’s fine. They seem to care about you a great bunch. 

Frances: I honestly think they would take a bullet for me. I’d do the same for them.

Icarus: That’s good though, I’m glad you have people looking out for you.

Frances: Would you say the same for your friends?

Icarus: Yeah, I think so. This your room?

Frances: Mhm. You can come in.

Icarus: You sure?

Frances: Or we can talk right here. Although I imagine you’re gonna get a bit tired of the drunk people running into the door.

Icarus: [ small laugh ] Good point. You like to collect a lot of things. Is this a rock?

Frances: A geode, I think if I wasn’t a music major, I’d probably be a geologist. 

Icarus: You could always study for another four years.

Frances: Pfft. Absolutely not. I never want to buy another textbook again. 

Icarus: Are you excited for what comes next?

Frances: Actually, about that. I need to talk to you about something.

Icarus: Is it bad?

Frances: Sort of.

Icarus: Then we can talk about it another time. We’re celebrating.

Frances: Icarus…

Icarus: You gonna deny me that?

Frances: [ shakes head ]

Icarus: Good. 

-

Dan: Oye pendejo! Where are you going with my alcohol?!

Ares: JESUS!

Dan: It’s okay I know him. Pues?!

Atlas: No te preocupes, vamos a divertirnos! Mwah! / Don't worry, we're going to have fun!

Dan: [ grumbles ] That fucker.

Ares: Context??

Dan: He literally always does this. He always steals my alcohol!

Ares: You should beat him up.

Dan: I should- Why are you encouraging me?

Ares: I dunno. Feelin’ evil I guess. Got a light?

Dan: Now what the hell is up with you not having a lighter? 

Ares: I do! I just never refill it. 

Dan: I don’t even think said lighter is in the room with us.

Ares: You know there are some things I’m allowed to not be put together with and this is one of them. 

Dan: Here. Keep it.

Ares: I am not keeping your things.

Dan: You sayin’ there’s something wrong with it?

Ares: I’m not doing this with you.

Dan: Oh so you hate me.

Ares: Yep, I guess I do.

Gabriel: Dan! Now why the hell were there two people making out in the entrance? 

Dan: They’re still doing that?

Gabriel: I mean good for them but like… Get outta my way, you know?

Dan: Pfft! Thank you for coming! 

Gabriel: Of course! I brought a bottle of wine but Gum took it. 

Ares: Gum’s here? And she’s alone?

Gabriel: She’s fine. Knows exactly where I’m at, besides something caught her eye. 

-

Frances: You’ve been practicing.

Icarus: I have a great teacher.

Frances: Man, I’m gonna miss this.

Icarus: Sit. I know you’re scared that things are changing.

Frances: Icarus, I need to-

Icarus: I’d like it if you enjoyed this moment with me. Please?

Frances: Okay.

Icarus: When do you leave?

Frances: First week of July. God, leave it to the universe to cosmically fuck up my life.

Icarus: Not even! 

Frances: I mean is it selfish for me to be a tad bit unhappy? Everything I’ve worked for, built up to this very moment and it’s not enough. 

Icarus: Sometimes expectations are just that. A lead up to disappointment. 

Frances: I’m sorry, I’m being so negative right now. We were having a moment and I started to ramble.

Icarus: Don’t apologize. From the time I’ve known you, I can see you’re a bit of an overthinker but! Before you give me that look, it isn���t a bad thing.

Frances: It isn’t bad… It’s horrible.

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Stop it! You like to see things in every perspective and it’s endearing. 

Frances: Said the only person ever.

Icarus: Why are you so keen on giving me a hard time?

Frances: Why not? I think you like it.

Icarus: I like a lot of things about you, Frances. Be here with me?

Frances: Even if it breaks my heart?

Icarus: At least you won’t be alone in that.

[wonwayne]

cold season ☁️ lee heeseung

pairing : bff!heeseung x gn!reader genre : fluff, comfort warnings : mentions of food word count : 0.6k

a/n : flirty heeseung with zero survival instinct comes to cuddle while you’re sick.

“you look so hot right now.”

you winced your eyes open to look incredulously up at your doe-eyed best friend. it’s too damn bright in this room, you thought, as your head continued pounding. there were more things about the condition of your room you were unhappy with at the moment: the suffocating humidity from you staying cooped up here with the doors closed for nearly three days straight; the mess of your bedside table, littered with tissues and soaked tea bags; and your own nightmarish appearance, violated by swollen eyes and hair matted by sweat. you felt somewhat sheepish, letting yourself be perceived by heeseung in this state, but you were also too relieved to see him to shoo him away — or register the undertone of his comment.

“yeah, that’s a 101 degree fever for you.” your voice was so nasal, you wondered if the words were actively coming out your nose.

heeseung pouted, taking your clammy hand in his cool ones. “have you eaten? want me to order soup?”

you shook your head weakly. “no need.”

“to eat? humanity has proved otherwise.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to slip your hand out of his grip, but he held on tight.

“chicken noodle would be a bit basic, wouldn’t it? maybe something spicier? gamjatang?” with his free hand, he was opening the delivery app on his phone. “when i had that nasty cold like a month ago, this place absolutely saved me—”

“i really appreciate the thought, hee, but i swear i’ve got no appetite.” you squeezed his hand this time, hoping that, like a chinese finger trap, he’d let you go because of it.

when he showed no signs of doing so, you added, “do you really want that nasty cold back? i’ve been quarantining for a reason, idiot.”

heeseung only chuckled at the nickname. “perfect, just ordered. should be coming in the next 20 minutes or so.”

“heeseung.” you used all the energy left in you not to sound pathetically silly.

“yes, darling?”

you frowned at his response. “you’re seriously calling me darling right now? when i look like this?”

“’course i am,” and he took your hand up to his lips for the softest, sweetest peck, “as i said, you look so incredibly hot.”

suddenly, you felt the urge to punch him for being so unserious. (and for making you blush from more than your heightened body temperature.) but instead, against your will, you found yourself tugging him by the hand with such raw, instant force that he lost his balance, falling over you onto the bed and narrowly missing the headboard.

on second thought, you hadn’t seized him with that much force — definitely not enough to trip him over. but before you could open your mouth to apologize, at least out of courtesy, heeseung was adjusting himself to lie parallel to you, hand still intertwined in yours.

“ah,” he sighed, turning onto his side and shifting closer to you so that his face was almost entirely buried in your neck, “your bed is insanely comfortable.”

you sniffled in faux disgust, sliding to the edge of the mattress as if you actually had a chance of escaping his embrace. much to your surprise, he pulled you right back into him by your waist.

“your white blood cells are so pissed at you right now,” you huffed, trying not to betray how flustered you were by his touch.

“okay, nerd,” he shot back, snuggling ever closer into your backside. “you know, i’m starting to regret ordering that gamjatang.”

“and why is that?”

“because now that i’m here, i’d never want to leave your side.”

[conwise]

Dracula from TAZ vs Dracula might just be my favourite version of the character solely because I LOVE the way he's portrayed as an antagonist (and also Griffin's voice)

*TAZ Dracula Spoilers Below*

Like, of course he's a bad guy, he kills people and terrorizes the populace of Angrave. Heck, look at what he did to Renfield! His evilness has always been immediately apparent just from the fact alone that its Dracula. Dracula as a character usually has, historically speaking, been an evil dude!

But this Dracula is also a bad guy. He's honestly kind of a dick, and that makes him worse than if he was just some inhuman blood-sucking monster. We get to know him as a person through the diary entries and his relationships with other people, we get to learn about the normal people things he does, and you can so clearly see just how kind of terrible he is as a person.

He doesn't care about other people and constantly regards himself as a victim (I can practically hear the :( in his opening monologues). He treats the people around him as disposable; Frankenstein meant so little to him that he just dropped him the moment his plans required it, leaving a subpar replacement to placate him, and Renfield was his number one guy until the moment came when he needed a test subject. Not to mention the letter to Sweater Drac/Vlad where Dracula tells him he'll probably be killed but should put up a good fight anyways just to keep up his own reputation. And then he just sits down with a pen at his little table and goes "Dear Diary, why am I so unhappy and alone :("

And that's just the half of it.

But the thing that gets me the most is the bones in his car. THOSE ARE LADY GODWIN'S BONES. He's never cared about the fact that he killed Godwin, it's just a funny story to him, but the sheer fact that he just casually tossed what was left of her body in the trunk of his car and forgot about it had me fuming. It's insult to injury to Godwin at that point. That body meant as much to him as the old gym clothes that were in there with it. Is that a monstrous and evil thing to do? Not really. Is it a dick move? Absolutely.

And we see more of him being a selfish prick than we do of him killing people and doing evil things. Sure still does those things, but at his core he's a selfish dick who also just happens to be an evil vampire/monster. And I LOVE that. I hate him as a person, not as an inhuman big bad evil guy, the same way I wouldn't be able to stand it if I had to deal with a jerk like that in real life. I hate him in a very specific and real way, like a coworker who's always talking about themselves and gives waaaaaaay too much detail as you just kinda sit there as they talk at you and wonder how on earth they don't realize that they sound like a dick

I just think this version of Dracula is such a good concept for an antagonist and it's done so well

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

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