#antique finish sheets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evermorecountsastherapy · 7 months

Text

★ of literature and lingering contingence ★

pairing: Gale Dekarios (BG3) x fem!reader (unnamed, no use of y/n, second person)

tags/warnings: fluff, teasing, literary references, established relationship, post-canon, shameless smut (soooo much of it), soft dom gale, porn with plot, praise kink, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, oral sex, rough sex, love confessions, a lot of sappy stuff toward the end, explicit sexual content: MDNI please

word count: 12,400

a/n: recently was gripped by the most powerful wave of Gale brain rot that I have ever experienced and this absolute monstrosity emerged as a result. initially vaguely inspired by this fanart that has rerouted and taken over every single one of my functioning braincells (I don't know the artist, pls pls let me me know if you do! I owe them a life debt for creating that piece!) this was also inspired by the literary masterpiece Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë (let's just pretend it exists in 1492 DR, alright?) if requested, I will consider writing a second part to this story, seeing as I really enjoyed writing this. as a fair warning, this is about 85% filth and 15% sappy lovesick stuff so enter at your own risk!

★ AO3 link ★

✦ playlist link ✦

Enjoy!

image taken from Pinterest

Out of all the days in the week, Sundays had to be your favourite.

It was the one day where you never had any obligations or responsibilities to worry about, and you often found yourself with nothing to do but relax.

It wasn't, however, this lack of routine that you loved so much but rather the fact that Gale's schedule followed a very similar pattern as yours, leaving nothing for both of you to do but spend the entire day in each other's company. After the perilous, action-packed journey you'd both come back from a mere few months ago, you were both more than happy to catch up on quality down time together.

And this Sunday had turned out to be no different. You'd been tucked away together in his tower all day, watching as the bright sun rose early that morning through the crack in the balcony's drapes, your bodies tangled both together and in the soft sheets. Later on that afternoon, you'd watched it set again from where you were nestled together on his worn antique couch, his head using your lower stomach as a pillow and his body encased between your legs beneath the blanket he had thrown over the both of you, a worn copy of Jane Eyre open in his hands.

A few weeks prior, the two of you had been discussing your favourite books over dinner (as was a popular topic of discussion wherever you and him were involved) and at one point, you'd casually quoted that very same literary work. This earned you a puzzled look from Gale, his brow quirking in a way you realized he genuinely didn't catch your reference. You were equally surprised by this revelation; until then, you had yet to mention a book that Gale hadn't already read and meticulously analyzed.

This was a definitely a first.

The thought made you somewhat giddy, already planning to be up at the crack of dawn the next morning to grab your equally well-loved and annotated copy from your place on the other side of Waterdeep. You were in the process of selling your old apartment, seeing as you had moved in with Gale after the War and spent the majority of your time outside of work with him at his tower. It would be a good opportunity to bring a few more of your things over to his place, as you had been doing over these last few months.

So that was exactly what you did. Every night from then on, after Gale had finished grading papers for the students he taught at Blackstaff and you'd cleaned yourself up after a long day at the House of Healing, the two of you would curl up on the living room couch next to the blazing mantle and read the story of Jane Eyre together. The idea that his initial reading should be a group activity and that he would be the narrator of the story was entirely his idea, and one that you'd found hard to refuse. You did love the sound of his voice, so listening to it perpetually for hours was only an added bonus.

This was precisely where you found yourself now, once again curled up on his couch watching as dusk fell and lingered on the corners of the room, the addition of flickering candlelight creating the coziest atmosphere in the little space. Head nestled in the space between your lower abdomen and pubic bone, your lover's voice read the words off the pages in front of him with a hushed enthusiasm that made you think he would be wonderful as a children's storyteller. You would have to mention that to him later.

"...still he looked preciously grim, cushioning his massive head against the swelling back of his chair, and receiving the light of the fire on his granite-hewn features, and in his great, dark eyes; for he had great, dark eyes, and very fine eyes, too—not without a certain change in their depths sometimes, which, if it was not softness, reminded you, at least, of that feeling. He had been looking two minutes at the fire, and I had been looking the same length of time at him, when, turning suddenly, he caught my gaze fastened on his physiognomy." Gale read aloud, his voice hypnotically rhythmic.

Each word he spoke reverberated on to your stomach, sending gentle, electrical pulses all throughout your body. The feeling was enough to warm you a little more with each passing minute, a familiar yet patient desire beginning to grow inside of you. Your fingers began to lightly play with his loose locks in an attempt to distract you from your growing arousal, his hair so gently manipulated you doubted he could even feel your ministrations.

"'You examine me, Miss Eyre,' said he: 'do you think me handsome?'"

You smiled as you immediately recognized this as one of your favourite parts in the book, your hands idly starting to braid a small section of his hair to mask your excitement. By the way the pitch of his voice had changed ever so slightly, you were inclined to think Gale was genuinely interested in where the dialogue in the story might go from here.

"I should, if I had deliberated, have replied to this question by something conventionally vague and polite; but the answer somehow slipped from my tongue before I was aware—'No, sir.'"

Gale let out a hearty chuckle as he read the last dialogue tag, resting the book face down for a moment on his lap to peer up at you.

"This girl reminds me of someone I know, actually," he said with a grin.

This earned him a quiet laugh back, only briefly pausing your braiding to look at his smiling face. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?" You asked playfully, your minding immediately thinking of your mutual friend, Shadowheart.

"You, my love," he answered, his grin now taking on a more mischievous air to it that rendered your lungs temporarily useless as your heart skipped a beat, the feeling leaving you a little light-headed. With how much his smile grew after your reaction, you were sure he had a fairly good idea of how he was affecting you.

"Keep going!" You laughed before the blush in your cheeks could grow anymore, setting him back on track with a light tap of your free hand against his stubbled cheek. Looking pleased with himself, he picked the book back up and continued reading.

"'Ah! By my word! there is something singular about you,' said he: 'you have the air of a little nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the carpet (except, by-the-bye, when they are directed piercingly to my face; as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or makes a remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, which, if not blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?'" He finished reading the last line with a sigh, lowering the book slightly to look up at you once again.

"I'd say he's definitely into her, wouldn't you agree?" He conjectured aloud.

You smiled, happy to see his engagement in the story you loved so dearly. "Uh-huh," you agreed, focusing your concentration on finishing the little braid in his hair.

"What is it that you're so busy with up there, hm?" He asked, reaching his hand up to touch the braid you'd just completed. A smile spread back across his lips as he realized what you'd done with his hair. "Oh, that feels like it looks lovely. Thank you, dear."

He reached over to set the book onto the coffee table, pushing the empty mugs the two of you had been sipping warm tea from earlier aside to make room for it. With a small, barely audible sigh, he sat up between your legs and twisted his torso to face you, his hand resting just beside your outer thigh to support his body weight.

"I might make this to be part of the signature look. What do you think? I'll admit I feel considerably more handsome with it." He said, caressing the braid with one hand, his big eyes boring into yours with a lingering glint of mischief. "Do you think me handsome, young lady?"

Every functioning braincell in your body screamed "yes!" at the question he posed to you, especially seeing as you had let him know how attractive you found him on more than one occasion that week alone. If he hadn't quoted Mr. Rochester so eloquently, you might have been inclined to answer in this same way. Something mischievous, however, bubbled up inside you when he said it, your curiosity wanting to see what might become of teasing him ever so slightly.

"No, sir," you answered, a slight quirk in your lips.

His eyes seemed to grow darker almost instantly, a smirk forming as a product of your quip. For what it was worth, you assumed the borrowed line would earn you little more than a hearty laugh and an incentive for him to continue reading. Your emphasis on the title (one you had never taken to calling him before) looked to have stirred something more than innocent amusement inside of him and you briefly wondered if calling him that was the best decision on your part.

You did need your legs to work come tomorrow, after all.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine, your mind giving you flashbacks of that time on the road with the party when you'd decided to tease him a little too thoroughly. The result? Yours and Gale's night of passion had become so intense that you had no choice but to stay back at camp the next day, every muscle in your body sore and aching. Gale had stayed back with you, ever the gentleman, doting on you and almost ridiculously apologetic for the adventure you'd be missing out on that day because of him. As sorry as he was, however, it didn't stop him from fucking you senseless against a tree in the forest a short distance from the camp when you'd begged him. Against your better judgement, you'd teased him like that on more than one occasion since you'd been back from your travels together and each end result turned out to be better (or worse) than the last, if that was even possible.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly moved closer toward you, walking his hands forward along the cushion underneath of you, the insides of his wrists just barely brushing the sides of your torso. Your breath caught in your chest as he hovered over you, dark eyes staring back into yours like a starved predator that had just found its next meal.

"No?" He breathed, his face mere inches away from yours. Candlelight flickered off his sharp features, the sight momentarily mesmerizing you and causing you to shift your gaze away from his intense eyes and onto his rosy lips, delicate and soft looking compared to his somewhat rugged features. He noticed this shift in your attention almost immediately, bringing his index finger up under your chin to gently guide your gaze back toward him.

"Say it again." He commanded, voice stern.

A familiar dizzying feeling that originated in your stomach came over as you processed his words. It left you a little breathless once again, your senses now properly heady with growing desire.

"No, I don't think you handsome." You near-whispered back to him, his lips so close to yours now that they were almost touching, causing your eyelids to droop slightly with desire. "Sir."

His head dropped painstakingly closer at your confession, the space between your mouths so miniscule it would've only taken you to flinch to touch your lips to his. His warm breath mixed with yours and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to wrap your arms around his neck and properly smother him. But at the same time, you also wanted to know what game he was playing at, genuinely curious to see where this might lead. You were the one who had started it, after all.

Slowly, he lowered his lips to yours, only giving you the faintest whisper of a kiss before you felt a smile grow on his lips and he whispered against your mouth, "And I think you're a liar."

The words reacted with your body in a way that threatened to prove him right, that warm feeling pooling in your lower abdomen turning a temperature not far off from molten lava. Gale must have easily picked up on this from the way he let out a breathy little laugh into the corner of your mouth, his neatly stubbled chin brushing against yours slightly.

"And you know how I feel about liars, don't you, love?" He teased in that voice usually saved for his classroom at Blackstaff, his mouth moving to place delicate kisses along your cheek and slowly working his way down, his head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck. Your hands finally betrayed you, your arms snaking their way around the sides of his head, your fingers threading themselves through his soft hair in an attempt to keep him in that position.

His affections moved lower down your neck and into the space just below your clavicle, his one hand moving to fiddle with the little buttons that held closed one of the old button up shirts of his you'd thrown on earlier that morning. It was your usual Sunday attire, the length of it long enough to rest just above your knees, the need to wear pants with it futile when it would just be the two of you for the day. That and you knew how crazy it drove him to see you in nothing but one of his shirts and a thin pair of underwear.

Freeing the first button, he brough his mouth back down to your skin as he worked on the next ones. "Not only do they need to be punished for their miscreant behaviors, but that behavior also needs to be rectified if there is any hope of them recovering from their impropriety." He said somewhat breathlessly against your chest, the sound vibrating throughout your entire body.

No sooner did the final button on your shirt give way was the thin material being yanked open by eager hands, the slight chill that lingered in the tower causing your bare nipples to perk. Gale pulled away slightly to rake his eyes over your partially exposed body, his gaze like a comforting caress you'd come to know so well and long for so often.

He whispered something under his breath that sounded much like 'Gods...' before shifting back down to press his warm mouth to the space between your breasts. The feeling was like no other. It was magical; he was magical, with or without the power of the Weave.

His soft lips drifted over your breast to land on your nipple, kissing it softly while looking up to meet your eyes, asking for permission. You sucked in a short breath and managed to nod ever so slightly, too focused on what he was doing to be able to think clearly. Slowly, his wet tongue met with your sensitive nipple, the sensation of that mixed with the suction his mouth had created driving you wild. Against your own volition, your back arched upward into him as if you were nothing more than a marionette whose strings were tied to his practiced fingertips, every movement your body made just an extension of his careful manipulation of your desire. You didn't particularly mind; Gale was one of the only guys you'd ever met who had taken so much time to learn in great detail the ways in which to make you feel good. It was something you never thought you'd come to have in life, though now that you had it, you knew you would never be able to settle for anything less.

A pathetic-sounding whimper escaped past your lips as his tongue swirled around your nipple for a final time before alternating to your other breast. You could feel how his breathing had increased since he had started his form of worship on your body, his exhales fanning out in little pants of warm air over your breast. It was almost too much to bear.

Before you could open your mouth to demand he just take you already, his mouth detached itself from your breast to trail intermittent kisses down your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skip a beat as he passed over your navel, his fingers coming to rest at the waistband of your underwear.

"Shall we continue?" He asked with his chin hovering just above your pubic bone, a certain hunger palpable in his aura. "Or will I need to find other ways to change my pretty little liar's mind?"

You managed a desperate nod and when he didn't make any move to continue, a strangled, "Yes, please."

Your words seemed to appease him and with a swift motion, your underwear was down your legs and being slipped off your ankles, falling to the floor along with the blanket the two of you had been covered up with earlier. He snaked his arms under your knees, pushing them up gently and guiding your feet over his shoulders so that you were fully exposed to him. You felt your heart rate spike a little when his hands came to rub along your outer thighs and hips reverently, placing little kisses along your inner thighs and inching closer and closer to the apex of them.

A breathless gasp escaped you as you watched him place a firm kiss to the center of your clit, the sudden sensation making you squirm in his grasp. A quick, victorious smile spread across his lips at your reaction and you had the sudden premonition that you were really about to be in for it.

Opening his mouth slightly, he placed that 'practiced' tongue of his flat against that little bundle of nerves before curling it wickedly to swirl the bud around in a way that made your head spin. The sensation itself was almost too much to bear, though in the same breath, you prayed to any god you could think of just to beg that he would never stop.

As if he could read your mind, his mouth moved further down your slit to lap at the pooling wetness that gathered farther down. A low moan escaped your chest at the sight and you felt him smile again in response, his eyelids fluttering slightly to look at you through thick lashes.

"How's the view, my dear?" He asked teasingly, pulling away from your heat slightly to give you a good look at the thick layer of your juices that glistened on and around his lips, showcasing the sinful mess like some kind of artwork. "Changed your mind yet?"

You contemplated this for a second while frantically trying to catch your breath, the way he was looking at you from between your dampened thighs making this a near impossible task itself. As much as you wanted to admit how you loved the way he looked from your current perspective, you loved toying with his ego just as much. It was simply too much fun, not to mention exceptionally rewarding (sexually and otherwise) for you more often than not.

"I- I'd like to see the full extent of your talents before... coming to a decision." Throwing what you hoped was a seductive smile his way, you added, "If you'd be willing to indulge me, that is."

This earned you one of his heart-stopping smirks, that sparkle in his eyes a telltale sign of both his amusement and arousal. "Oh, finally found your words, have you? If you insist, my little minx." He retorted, voice suddenly dropping down to that husky octave he knew drove you wild. "I'd be my pleasure."

Yep, you definitely were not going to be walk out of this one on functional legs. That much you were now certain about.

His eyes still locked with yours, he sank his face down between your legs once again, his tongue moving to press against your entrance this time while his nose nestled itself against your clit. The feeling set off an intense fluttering sensation in your stomach and you had to fight the sudden urge to buck against him.

Without warning, his hands curled themselves around the back of your thighs and gripped your hips firmly, pulling you up to meet his face at an even more flush angle. With the better access granted to him from your new position, he started lapping away at your pussy with such fervor you couldn't help the desperate whimpers you tried to supress from escaping the back of your throat. He continued to work his tongue up and down your delicate folds, occasionally breaking rhythm to push his tongue into your tight pussy teasingly.

The way he was working your sex felt nothing short of heavenly, a juxtaposition to the absolutely sinful noises coming from both his mouth and intense suckling. His eyes closed at some point in the process, his brow furrowed in deep concentration and - from what you could see in the dim candlelight - a light blush beginning to creep into his cheeks, staining them an adorably rosy pink. The sight itself was nearly enough to send you over the edge. He truly was beautiful.

Your pleasure took on new heights when his thumb crept along your hip to land on your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make you squirm uncontrollably. Your hand moved instinctively to clutch the top of his head, your fingers finding purchase in his smooth tresses in yet another desperate attempt to keep him right where he was. The added stimulation was almost too much, and you felt that familiar string of desire grow taught behind your navel with every swipe of his tongue. Gale, sensing the fast-approaching crest of your orgasm, took this as motivation to increase the intensity of his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your wet cunt like a man starved. Your chest heaved to a point you were certain you couldn't take anymore, a few sections of your loose hair sticking to and curling around your neck a little more each time you tossed your head from side to side on the plush pillow your neck rested on. The change in pace caused the cross between a whimper and a moan to escape from the back of your throat and your grip on his hair grew impossibly tighter.

"Mmm... that's it, darling. Let me hear that pretty voice of yours. You're doing so good for me, so good..." he breathed against your pussy, his warm breath on your sensitive parts only adding to the sweet torture. His eyes flitted open, locking directly onto yours while his thumb - ever persistent - continued it's own form of artistry on your clit. "Now, come for me."

His words were enough to finally push you over the edge, your climax surging through your body in wave of pure ecstasy. A desperate moan erupted from within you as your hips bucked into his face, your voice ringing out suddenly in the space around you. A low, guttural sound released itself from deep within his chest and reverberated deliciously off your pussy as he ate you through completion. The feeling was utterly intoxicating, and you were certain nothing you had ever experienced up until that point felt nearly as good as this.

"Good girl, falling apart so beautifully for me," he praised as he softly lowered your trembling hips back down to meet the couch cushion after giving your clit one last kiss and pulling away slightly. His chest heaved with exertion as he licked his lips with a lascivious smile. "Might I dare ask for the verdict? Or is it too soon?"

Your hands moved to brush away a few loose strands of hair from where they fell in front of his eyes, your palm resting on his stubbled cheek. Taking quiet notice of the way his ends of his hair had started to curl slightly from your mixed perspirations, you realized you felt about as flush as he looked though you had no intentions of leaving the extent of your fun at that for the night. A blissful post-orgasmic haze washed over you and you felt that you were all but glowing with how much love you harbored for him in that particular moment.

"You've never looked so beautiful as you do now," you answered, trying to catch your breath. "How is it that you're my man?"

He smiled, a rare and bashful boyish kind that only emerged as a result of any praise you gave him. Over time, you'd found this to be a reaction only you could stir from him, whether it was in relation to his beautifully bright mind and the extensive knowledge he kept within it or his considerable talent both in and out of the bedroom. Either way, you always loved seeing the way your words could affect him. After all, you'd just experienced (yet again) how much a few words from him could affect you. It only seemed fair.

Speaking of fair, you were reminded of how much you suddenly longed to even the scoreboard between the two of you and at least attempt to show him an equal act of reciprocity as he came over you again, the noticeable bulge in his trousers brushing briefly against your thigh as he brought himself to hover over you. The feeling intensified as he brought his lips down to meet yours once again, the lingering taste of yourself on his tongue driving you even more wild.

"I am yours, body and soul," he whispered between kisses. "And you, my dear, are all mine."

His tongue tangled with yours with a way that moved from sweet and gentle to hungry and primal, as if he was trying to further prove his point by claiming you with his mouth. The intensity of it was enough to stoke the fire in your core again, the thought of him laying claim to you in such a way intercepting any coherent though from forming in your head. You nearly forgot about your improvised plan as his hands roved their way up your sides and kneaded your breasts in a way you knew he wasn't finished wringing pleasure from you and showing you the ways in which you were his. Appealing as it was to you, the thought of how he would look writhing under you as you drew out wave after wave of pleasure from him was really what set your loins alight.

"There is another angle that I'd like to test out, however," you managed to breathe out against his fervent kisses, causing him to slow ever so slightly in interest.

He raised an eyebrow, a curious look glimmering in his eye. "Is that so?"

You nodded.

"And what might that be?" He asked.

You dragged your hands along his torso just as he had done to you, goosebumps rising in their wake. "Let me show you," you whispered against his lips.

His lips met with your again as you began to sit up from where you lay on the couch, placing a gentle hand to his chest as you pushed him onto his back and your other hand moved a pillow under his head, careful to never break your kiss in the process. You felt his breath hitch as you fumbled with the buttons on his long cardigan, his hands coming up to weave themselves in your hair. The thought of pleasing him so easily made your heart soar; you wanted to nothing more than to make him feel as good as he had made you feel and it made you indescribably happy to know you were already on your way there.

Little time elapsed between the point where you finished undoing the last button on his sweater and when it was being shrugged down and off his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor beside the couch. You finally broke your intense kiss to move slightly back and take in the view of his bare chest before you.

The sight of him never failed to take your breath away; his broad shoulders and defined muscles looking like they were carefully crafted by the hands of the gods themselves, the flickering candlelight highlighting the depth of his considerable pectoral muscles and the swirls of dark hair that ran along them and down his chest. You couldn't help but follow the little trail from where it was thickest across his sternum down to where it thinned out slightly over his abdominal muscles and then grew denser where his trousers rested. The thought of what lies beneath them made your core clench around nothing, your need to pleasure him growing with each passing minute.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest quicken as you laid your hands on his stomach gently, moving them up slowly toward his pectorals in exploration as you lowered your head to burrow into his neck. His hands took hold of your torso to bring it flush against his as you alternated between placing delicate kisses on his neck and gently nipping at it, moving into that spot just below his right ear you knew made him particularly responsive. Sure enough, a low groan escaped him as your lips met his skin there, his hands tightening their grip on you. You smiled before jutting your tongue out to press it against his warm neck and then sealing it by pressing a kiss over it once more.

This seemed to stir something entirely new and hungry in him, his hands now desperately seeking purchase on the sides of your head and bringing your lips up to meet his once again. He let out another groan as he devoured you, your mouths moving in a frantic tandem against each other in an intense dance of tongues and lips. You wanted it to last forever.

Pulling away slightly for air, you watched as a small string of saliva connected your bottom lips. The sight of it made you feel weak with desire, suddenly picturing what that same string of spittle might look on other certain parts of him. From the way he was eyeing your lip in return, you guessed the sight ignited something similar in him.

"You torture me, wicked girl" he rasped.

"Oh, sweet thing," you smiled innocently, "we're only getting started."

You saw his eyes widen ever so slightly at your insinuation and you felt a sense of pride in your choice of words. It wasn't easy to leave Gale Dekarios speechless, though you'd just done it singlehandedly.

Lowering your lips back to down to meet his chest, you heard him sharply inhale above you as you placed gentle kisses down his sternum and through the trail of hair that grew there. His scent filled your nostrils: a mix of the sweet-smelling body wash he used, the musk that rubbed off the ancient leather-bound books he always had his nose stuck in, and a tinge of sweat that had accumulated over the course of the day. It had to be one of your favourite scents, so familiar to you by now that it had, at some point, started to smell like home to you. You relaxed at the thought, any lingering anxiety you harbored and carried with you up until that point melting away into nothingness.

Your kisses trailed lower down his stomach as you dragged your fingernails lightly along his chest as you went, his breaths increasing a little more the closer you got to the waistband of his loose-fitting trousers. When you could travel down no farther, you moved your hands to rest on top of his hips, gently massaging the muscles underneath and looking back up to meet his eyes once again.

You knew this type of intercourse - one where he was the one on the receiving end, rather than the other way around - was a sensitive area for him. For years, he'd become accustomed to sexual experiences that only served to satisfy the other party: his goddess. Gale was nothing if not a generous lover and as much as you believed him when he told how arousing he found going down on you, the thought of him not receiving the same amount of care and devotion he gave to his goddess - to you - simply didn't sit right with you.

Mystra had him smitten from a young age, using her celestial power to always extract exactly what she wanted from him. The thought made you sick on the best of days, and what was even worse was how Gale had stood completely oblivious to her toxic manipulation of him until you entered his life not even a year ago. To heal from the damage that she'd inflicted over such a considerably long time was no small feat for him, though it was a battle you refused to let him fight alone in. You were in it together, no matter how rough the road ahead got at times. And oh, could it get rough.

You recalled one of the nights you'd spent together early on in your relationship when you'd begun to explore each other's bodies more freely. What started as an innocent make out session in his tent quickly turned heated and desperate, the thrill of the newfound lust sizzling between the two of you giving you the confidence to attempt to try something new. You'd accumulated a certain amount of guilt over the previous few nights from how he would spend literal hours pleasuring you in ways you hadn't dreamed possible up until that point and then proceed to tuck both of you into bed when he sensed you were well and truly spent for the time being, not giving you the chance to even attempt to return the favor.

On this particular night, however, you'd managed to beat him to the chase. All was well until you'd shimmied his night pants down his legs and took hold of his cock, stroking it in a way you hoped felt at least alright to him. His muscles tensed at your touch and his face contorted slightly, raising himself up suddenly on his elbows in alarm.

"W-What are you doing, love? I thought..." he asked, his sudden concerning behavior instantly causing you to believe you'd done something wrong. It was your first time having done such things to a man before, and the confidence you felt in your abilities was already scarce and dwindling to start off with.

You instantly pulled back, taking your hands off his body and shoving them under your arms as if you'd been burned as your heart began to hammer in your chest. "Oh gods, I'm sorry, Gale. I- I can't believe I... I’m really sorry, I've never done this before and I was... just... just trying to make you feel good too, as you've done for me all these nights. It just seemed... fair to me." You rambled as your voice began to quiver, desperately fighting back the sudden onslaught of tears that threatened to prickle through and overflow so easily. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him and ruin this beautiful thing you'd built together.

The look on his face at your confession was equal parts remorseful and understanding. "Oh love, no. You are doing wonderfully. I'm the one at fault here and I apologize, I regret not wording that question better. I just... well, these are new sensations to me, you see. I am uh... somewhat unexperienced in this area as well." He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks reddening slightly from what you assumed was both his own confession and how his body was currently fully exposed. You reached over to retrieve one of his blankets and drape it over him gently, hoping it would help him to feel less self conscious.

Realization hit you like an early morning light as you smoothed the blanket down. "Have you ever had...?" You asked quietly. To think Gale - your sweet, precious Gale who could give head intense enough to cause you to nearly leave your body all together and was by far the most doting lover you'd ever known - had yet to experience a basic level of reciprocity from a lover at this point in his life was something you had a hard time wrapping your head around. If that was simply something thing he wasn't into, then that was completely understandable in and of itself. But to never have had that offer given to him in the first place? What kind of relationship had he had with this goddess of his?

"Would you laugh if I said I hadn't?" He answered, his voice dropping down to the same octave as yours.

"Are you kidding? Of course not!" You reassured him, taking one of his hands to give it a firm squeeze of solidarity. "Though the question is... is this something you want? I would really love to give this to you, but only if you're comfortable with it."

His hand gave yours a squeeze back almost instantaneously, maneuvering the placement of his to thread his fingers in between yours. "I would love nothing more. Though I will warn you, the experience might not... last very long. Considering..." He said sheepishly, giving you a half smile and motioning to the tent that had been created between his legs when you placed the blanket over him.

"Gale Dekarios, you are an utter fool if you think I care even for a second about such things." You leaned over to kiss him once before returning to your original position between his legs, taking the blanket on his lap with you.

Gale had been truthful in his confession, as always. He had come undone for you with little more than a bit of light teasing and a few strokes to his cock, your warm mouth wrapping around the tip to catch his spend in an attempt to please him further. It definitely seemed to work, the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him bringing him to literal tears. The reaction flattered you more than anything, though you were a little concerned about the true meaning of the tears that erupted from him so suddenly.

After gently redressing his lower half, putting out the lanterns in his tent, and pulling a blanket over the both of you, you settled beside him in bed for the night. He'd nuzzled his head into your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

And then he'd gently wept into your shoulder for the better part of an hour.

It was the most vulnerability he'd shown you until that point, and your heart broke to know he'd been carrying around that hurt within him for heaven knows how long. Despite it all, you felt a certain energy change in the tent that night, as if years worth of trauma had begun to lift itself off his shoulders. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't cried along with him when he started whispering how sorry he was; sorry that he was so weak and naive in the face of Mystra, sorry that he loved you so much and smothered you with his emotions like this, sorry that he was the one you decided to love.

How he could ever believe such things to be true felt like someone driving a stake right through your heart and twisting the handle maliciously. Since the moment you made the decision to pull him out of that mysterious rune after you'd crashed on the Nautiloid, you'd felt nothing but pure, blossoming adoration for the man. With his flowery language and bad jokes, he emerged as a small but bright and persistent beacon of light in your otherwise bleak life and for that you were forever grateful. When he told you the story behind his need for magical artifacts and of what Mystra had done to him - how she'd used him for so many years and then simply tossed him aside at the drop of a hat - you'd struggled to fight back tears the entire time he talked, his face alarmingly calm and passive as he spoke of his mistreatment. His words replayed themselves in your mind as you tried to fall asleep each night from then on, utterly and thoroughly disgusted with the woman this sweet wizard worshipped and even more furious at the fact that she'd done such a good job of pulling the wool over his eyes for so long. And then came the night when dear old Elminster barged his way into your camp to deliver Gale his death sentence, handed down by none other than the conniving goddess herself. His emotions had been intense that night, though you could hardly call your moment in the meadow together "smothering". You loved him, even with all his strings attached. You loved him, and nothing could ever change that, not even death.

And so, this was exactly what you told him, your voice unwavering as you professed your conviction into the top of his head. His tears began to slow as he whispered over and over how much he loved you and how glad he was to have found you between jagged inhales. You echoed his sentiments and placed soft kisses to sporadic spots on his head, wishing there was a way to kiss all the hurt off of him. While massaging small circles into his bare back with your fingertips, you felt his breathing begin to slow and after a few minutes you knew he had fallen asleep in your arms.

Something between you had shifted that night, as if both of you had finally realized how much you needed each other. The rest was history from there.

How far you'd come in those few months to end up where you were now, lounging and making love to each other on his couch in Waterdeep. You could recall when the very idea of relaxing a random Sunday away on a couch seemed like a luxury, never mind being able to spend that day alongside the love of your life. There was a time when certain death loomed over your head so heavily it might as well have been set in stone, making the idea of dreaming up a future beyond a few weeks in advance feel laughable. Hells, Gale had even been given orders to sacrifice himself by his ex-goddess, hadn't he? Yet here you both were, against all odds.

As you looked into his eyes from your position between his legs - a position so similar to the one you'd been in that night - you briefly entertained the idea of his mind drifting back to that very same memory you shared with him. You wondered if he too contemplated the unexpected turn your lives had taken you in and the mystery behind the lucky hand both of you had ultimately been dealt. Either way, you were contented to know that everything had turned out for the better.

"Tell me, baby," you whispered, your tone equal parts seductive and playful. "Is this what you want?" You slipped your index finger just under the waistband of his trousers and dragged it along his skin lightly, watching his reaction carefully.

He sucked in a breath, his eyes growing dark once again. "Yes. Oh gods, yes." When you simply raised an eyebrow, he added a pained, "Please."

Satisfied, you undid the fastenings on his trousers and pulled them down his legs, throwing them in the general direction he'd thrown your underwear earlier. His cock sprang free from it's confines immediately, painfully erect from where it stood in front of your face. You looked back up at him once more, waiting for just one more sign of approval.

His hand squeezed the one that rested again on his hip in return, his other hand reaching down to cup your cheek gently. His fingers brushed against your jawline briefly before threading themselves through your hair and gathering it up and away from your face. You smiled at the endearing gesture (even if it was only to give him a better view of what you were doing) and placed your hand around the base of his cock, marveling at its size. Gale truly was a work of art, inside and out.

Slowly, you brought your hand up his shaft and rested your thumb on his swollen tip, relaxing your hand to mold to his girth as you went. You saw him tilt his head up to the ceiling in your periphery, his other hand detaching itself from yours to tangle his fingers in your hair on the other side of your head. Any loose strands that had potential for getting in the way went with it, clearing the way for you to work your own kind of magic on him.

After stroking his length a few times, you lowered your lips to gently kiss the tip of his cock. His fingers in your hair tightened in response and you couldn't help but smile; how fast this man could fold from simple foreplay never failed to amaze you. Lifting slightly to lick your lips, you lowered back down onto his cock, this time slowly taking him into your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you took as much of him as you could before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking in that way you knew made him melt beneath you.

"Oh - oh, fuck! Yes, just like that. Don't stop, please - don't..." he cried out above you, that usual eloquent vocabulary he was so predisposed to using now replaced by half-finished, non-sensical sentences.

You eagerly take his encouragement to continue and begin what starts as a slow bob along his length, your lips stretching around his girth as his cock stinks a little farther down your throat with each pass. Your pace gradually picks up, the little beads of saliva escaping your lips mixing with his milky precum, aiding your ability to glide along his length. As you do, you feel your tongue trace down one of his veins and his pulse began to hammer in your mouth. You'd never felt anything quite like it before, the sensation sending tangible pools of heat between your legs once again, your body and clit alike buzzing with arousal.

Your hand drifts back to the base of his cock as you come up for air, his tip slipping from your mouth with a little pop that coaxed his eyes open again. He looked confused at the sudden loss of stimulation coming from your mouth and you tried telling yourself it was only to tease him along, not because your vision had become almost completely obscured by your watering eyes and you were in desperate need of a minute to catch your breath. Well, you thought, maybe it was a bit of both.

"Is it oh-" he started, interrupted by a clever flick of your wrist around his shaft. "Is it your intent t- to break me into a thousand pieces with your sweet torment?" His voice shook a great deal more than you presumed he intended for it to with each syllable that passed through his lips. "Because if it is... you've shattered me."

Smiling, you continued to pump his length torturously, moving to settle back down to where his balls lay to pepper wet kisses over the surface of them. "Perhaps..." you teased as he moaned again loudly, your explorative ministration clearly affecting him in the best of ways. "Besides ... your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still."

Your quote's origin was lost on him, though the meaning of your words definitely was not. You looked forward to the day when the two of you would come across that very same line in the book you were reading, however long that might take you.

"Waxing poetic as we're making love, are you now? If I didn't know any better, I might think my habits are starting to rub off on you."

You shot him a wicked smile before trailing your tongue up his length, already dripping with your combined fluids. When you reach the top, you take one last inhale through your nose before taking him in your mouth again, doing your best to concentrate on relaxing your throat as you take him in as far as you can manage. You feel the little patch of curls at his root brush against the tip of your nose as you hold yourself there, the fingers he had threaded in your hair pulling at your scalp painfully.

Although you sensed his release was fast approaching, he pulled your head off his cock forcefully with little warning. His sudden change in behavior confused you, though you knew from the wild look in his eye when he brought your head up to be in line with his that you had done nothing to upset him, but rather the opposite.

"Did you really think you'd get away with that, little minx?" He taunted, propping himself up on the hand that didn't have your hair in a death grip, leaning in to give you a sloppy, breathless kiss. When you gave no immediate answer, he yanked your hair back a little, causing you to gasp. "Hmm? What was that?"

The sudden dark edge he had taken on shifted something within you, the increasing amount of adrenaline now running through your body igniting you need for him in ways you didn't know were possible. You knew this game he aimed to play; he told you he once read how a little bit of danger - of fear - could heighten other senses simultaneously as a way of flirting before your relationship had taken flight. Of course, you had given it right back to him, much to his incredulity, though he had yet to demonstrate his knowledge of the subject with you up until that point.

You shook your head weakly in response to his demanding question. When he merely raised an eyebrow, you managed to squeak out a pathetic, "No."

"No? 'No' what?" He asked again, shifting his bodyweight to sit up fully on his knees, his hand drifting to lazily stroke his cock beneath you. When he purposely dragged the tip along your stomach, you attempted to advert your eyes from his to look down. He was, unfortunately for you, already one step ahead of you and pulled your head back a little harder this time to force you to look at him over your nose. "Not yet, little mouse."

The new pet name had you feeling like you were practically coming apart at the seams and you barely managed a shaky inhale through your nose, all other senses completely and utterly overwhelmed.

"No, I didn't think that," You panted, voice barely above a whisper. The pieces finally clicked into place in your head and you added, in the most innocent way possible, what he really wanted: a squeaky little, “Sir."

If getting him to absolutely ravage you meant you were to be a helpless little mouse in his eyes, then you swore to fuck you were about to be the squeakiest little rodent in all of Faerûn.

"Turn around." Came his curt reply, letting go of your hair abruptly to allow you to move freely. You had no objection to his order, spinning around to sit obediently on your knees with your back to him. With hurried desperation, he helped you shrug the shirt you hadn't fully taken off before down your shoulders and onto the floor, wiggling back into him until his knees brushed the backside of yours, your shins abducted to rest along his outer thighs.

He wasted no time in rising on his knees, snaking his left arm around your hip to laying his hand flush against your lower abdomen while his right curled its way around your throat, tilting your head back slightly so you could glance over your shoulder at him. He had made sure to press his body as closely as he could against your backside in the process, his hardness pressed into the curve of your ass in a way that would've had you squirming if not for his firm grip on you.

"Look at you, needy little thing. What do you say we try another form of stimulation, hmm? Perhaps one that involves me bending you over and fucking you completely senseless until your mind is shattered into a thousand little pieces, just as you had intended for me?" His left hand trails lower to the apex of your thighs as he speaks, the pad of his middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly. The sensation has you whimpering in frustration, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes from all his tortuous teasing.

"Yes, please, yes," you beg, desperately grinding back into him with a force that had him panting in your ear along with you.

Much to your dismay, he abruptly removed his adept finger from where it swirled idly around your clit, your body aching at the loss of such sweet stimulation. Before you could think much of it, however, his hand began manipulating his member, sliding it along your slick entrance and through your clenched thighs. It wasn't long before he was pressing the thick head of his cock into you, your back arching in response.

With what remained of his self-control, he gradually pushed into you, allowing you a few extra moments to adjust around his girth. Both of you let out a low groan of relief when he was finally fully seated inside you, his cock buried to the hilt. The feeling was nothing short of exquisite and you could feel your body already thrumming with pleasure.

Slowly, he started to thrust his hips up into yours, his warm sex burying deep within of you as his hand moved to grip your hip hard enough to leave bruises. The snap of hips gradually turned more forceful, and you could feel where the tip of him gently nudged at your cervix with each thrust. The sensation had you crying out, his loose grip on your throat suddenly growing firm.

"You feel so good, you know that?" He praised in your ear, your hair falling in your face from the force he was pounding into you with. His statement was punctuated with a low moan that just about made you lose your mind, the sound of his skin slapping against yours only adding to the effect. You felt like a ragdoll in his grip, your legs now completely useless and the rest of your body not far off from being delightfully limp.

As if sensing this weakness in you, he moved to gently hinge you forward so you could rest on your forearms, thoughtfully placing one of the thicker pillows under your stomach for support. You were instantly thankful for the short reprieve, especially when he lowered down to press his stomach into your back, his thrusts growing in intensity and desperation. Almost every part of his body was flush against yours as he fucked into you with abandon and you almost screamed aloud when his hand came to rest on your clit once more, massaging it in a way that nearly had your vision going black. It was no surprise to find your orgasm rapidly cresting once more, the buildup to it releasing frustrated tears from your eyes.

"That's it, my love, keep going. You're being such a good girl." He praised in your ear, using the hand he kept at your throat to turn your head to the side. Between his words and the speed at which he was suddenly strumming your clit at, you felt about ready to explode from the intensity of your pleasure. "I want you to come for me. Don't you dare hold back, I want to hear everything. I want to feel you."

It was the million sensations you felt crashing down on you all at once that finally tipped you over the edge, writhing beneath him helplessly as wave of earth-shattering euphoria washed over you. A synchronized moan released from both of you as you clenched around him, coaxing Gale to his own end. Driving into you one final time, you felt him spill himself as far inside you as he could manage, slumping against your back as you both fought to catch your breath.

"That was... wow," you breathed after a moment of silence. "Who taught you how to fuck like that?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them. "Actually, never mind. I don't need to know that."

He laughed, kissing your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you for a final time. The feeling caused instant butterflies to take flight behind your navel, a contented little sigh leaving your chest. Despite both of you being truly and utterly spent for the rest of the night, his cock remained buried deep inside you, neither of you possessing the strength to peel apart from each other quite yet.

"Funny enough, a good portion of that came from that novel on your beside table you seem to like so much. The rest... well, I'm afraid that was all improvisation on my part, darling."

Your eyes widened at his words, instantly chiding yourself for leaving that book out in the open where his curious eyes would no doubt take a peek into it.

"You're kidding! Oh, please say you're messing with me!" You pleaded, somewhat horrified. You supposed you couldn't be too angry with him, though. The circumstances had turned out to be highly in your favor, after all.

"Unfortunately, I'm not. Though I already presumed you to have an excellent taste in fiction, the scene where he makes love to her on the kitchen table was truly riveting, if I do say so myself." He teased, idly drawing squiggly little lines up your spine.

"I'm never living this one down, am I?" You asked with your face buried in palms, though you already suspected what the answer would be.

"Not as long as I'm around, sweetheart." He confirmed placing a firm kiss to the bony prominence in the back of your neck. "I love you, so, so very much." He confessed into your shoulder, the sincerity in his voice stealing the air from your lungs once again.

Just as you were about to echo the endearment, you eye caught on a colourful flash of something in your shared room across the hall. Raising your head up to squint in the mysterious object's direction, you quickly realized it was the dress you'd pulled out to wear tonight. To Morena's birthday dinner. With Gale. Tonight.

You whipped your head around to look at the clock on the wall, panic quickly setting in.

5:47.

Oh, this was about to be disastrous.

"Gale! Your mother!" You exclaimed, pulling away from him abruptly. You felt his spend leak from you slightly as his now flaccid cock exited your pussy, eliciting a pained groan from him.

"What does my mother have to do with this?" He gestured vaguely to your ravaged features, leaking sex and all.

"It's her birthday and she invited us over for supper, remember? We're about to be late!" You picked up the previously discarded blanket on the floor to wrap it around your naked body and scurried into the bedroom, your legs still a little weak and wobbly.

"Surely she won't mind if we're a little tardy, dear." He protested from the couch, lying back into the cushions.

It took you giving him a stern look and trotting back to physically drag him off the couch to get him to acquiesce to your warning. Just as you were about to turn back to getting yourself ready, you remembered how your previous conversation had been cut short.

Taking his hand in yours and looking up to meet his gaze, you said, "And you must know I love you, too. Beyond what words could ever describe."

A shy smile spread across his face, his eyes shimmering in the flickering candlelight. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a the softest of kisses to the back of it, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. You clutched the two ends of the blanket wrapped around you together desperately, as if it was your last piece of sanity rather than the only thing keeping you - against your better judgement - from climbing him like a tree right then and there.

"Of course I do, my love. But I enjoy hearing you tell me all the same." Time seemed to slow as you stood there together, the sight of his naked body before you making it difficult to think straight.

"C'mon, you tease. We've got..." You glanced at the clock again, your tone taking on a more playful edge, "...under 10 minutes to get out the door and you don't even have any clothes on."

"Maybe I would," he countered with a laugh, "if you hadn't stripped them off of me so eagerly."

"Don't act like you didn't do it to me first!" You laughed back, swatting at his chest and heading to the bathroom this time, waiting until the physical distance between you forced you to let go of his hand.

"I'm going for a shower," You announced as you walked away, looking over your shoulder at him when he remained suspiciously quiet. Sure enough, a smug grin had taken form on his face, and you knew what was going on in that pretty head of his almost immediately. "That wasn't an invitation, wizard!

Under the guise that you were too short on time, he had decided to treat your declaration as an invitation anyway, despite your initial protests. It was certainly a struggle cleaning the smell of sex off you in a few short minutes whilst also trying to keep his ever-wandering hands off you, but you'd managed just fine in the end.

The next few minutes passed in a flurry of frenzied last-minute preparations. Gale used a spell to instantly dry your hair to perfection, casting the same one on himself shortly after. You quickly rolled a pair of pantyhose up your legs before shimming into your new dress as he slotted a belt through the loopholes in his pants, his hair adorably ruffled.

To commemorate Morena's 65th birthday, you'd decided (with some reluctance) to splurge on a new dress for the occasion. It wasn't until you went dress shopping one afternoon a few weeks prior, however, that you realized how difficult it was to find a nice one that didn't cost you a whole month's wage. After an entire day of scouring what seemed like every store in Waterdeep to no avail, you'd nearly given up all hope of finding one.

That was, until you bumped into a familiar looking pale elf on the street after dusk.

He had greeted you with his signature, "Darling!" immediately after recognizing you, pulling you in for a friendly hug.

"What are you doing, roaming the streets at such an hour? That foolish wizard of yours hasn't lost his touch already, has he?" He asked, ever the gossip as he linked your arms together and near dragged you up the road with him with his ridiculous amount of enthusiasm.

"It's nice to see you too, Astarion," you laughed, jogging a little to keep up with him. "I was out looking for a dress. Gale's mother's birthday is in a few weeks' time, and I have absolutely nothing to wear."

"Oh dear. That is quite the problem indeed." He replied, a grave look on his face. "Though, one I might be obliged to help you with, if you so wish."

You surveyed his face for any signs of mockery but quickly came up short. "In exchange for..."

He placed a hand to his chest, a gasping dramatically in mock offense. "I am hurt that you think so lowly of me, darling. What do you take me as? Some deceitful, thieving rogue?"

You laughed again, glad to be reunited with the deceitful, thieving rogue once more. "I am not letting you suck on my neck in exchange for making me a dress, Asty. Those days are long since over."

He stuck out his bottom lip at you, pouting. "Not even a nibble? I can suck on your wrist instead, if that's the problem." He asked innocently and you had to swat him away playfully when he tried to take hold of your wrist.

"I will pay you in gold, just as in any other regular trade agreement. Do we have a deal?" You stopped to look at him straight on, letting him know you were serious about this.

He pretended to ponder your offer for a moment before coming to a conclusion. "100 gold, you keep me company for an afternoon back in Baldur's Gate and the most magnificent dress you have ever laid your pretty eyes upon will be delivered to you in no more than 10 days time." He reasoned with an air of finality. When you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly, he added, "And the wizard can come, too, I suppose. I quite miss his terrible jokes, if I'm being honest." He reached his hand out for you to shake. "Deal?"

Smiling, you gave his hand a firm shake. "Deal." You had been meaning to visit him more often anyway, so you were quite satisfied with his added condition to the deal.

He smiled back at you, pleased. "Wonderful. Let's get you measured up."

After a good hour of wrapping a measuring tape around you in about a hundred different angles and coming up with a general design, you'd invited him to spend the night with you and Gale rather than pay for a room at the inn, an offer he agreed to readily. The two of you scurried arm in arm toward yours and Gale's abode, giggling your way through the now dark and winding streets, excited to see your what your lover's reaction might be when you walked through the door with a dear friend to both of you.

Apparently, Astarion had been in Waterdeep at the time to sort out some kind of business deal he had made with a local bard who hadn't kept up his end of the bargain. He only flashed you both a wicked grin when Gale had asked how he intended to handle the dispute before quickly changing the subject, causing you to chuckle softly into your glass of wine. That poor bard, you thought, though you supposed he had it coming if he was so dense as to cheat Astarion of all people over.

He was gone before either of you awoke the next morning, a note with the address to his place in Baldur's Gate scrawled on it in neat cursive and placed inside a beautiful vase of wildflowers on your kitchen table. Within the following week, a skillfully decorated box was delivered to your door from Baldur's Gate, a beautiful dress made just for you tucked inside.

The colour of it was a dark enough purple to almost be considered black, sleek and formed to hug your every curve perfectly. The length of it trailed down to brush no lower than your ankles, the material fanning out past your knees in a little skirt that allowed you to move your legs easier in it. He had added two-tiered layers of frilly hemming around the bottom of the skirt, the material a pearly, ivory white that shimmered ever so slightly in the light. He'd chosen simple heart-shaped neckline for the dress, using that same pearly material to create thin straps on either side for support, little white bows tied to where they met with the dress on either side. As you observed the way you looked with it on in the mirror, you were certain you wouldn't find a more perfect dress in all of the Sword Coast.

Gale came over to you just as you were putting in your finest pair of heart-shaped silver earrings, your dress still unzipped in the back due to the impossible range of motion you'd have to possess to do it up yourself. He was already dressed up in a sharp looking suit you'd picked out with him a while back in Baldur's Gate, the purple of his suit jacket a similar shade of purple to your dress. Delicate-looking flowers embroidered in silver crawled up artfully alongside the silver clasps holding the jacket closed on each side, the pattern stopping at his shoulders where a sweeping cape was clasped into place. His pants were made of a smug-fitting, leathery material to match his high-collared undershirt, the few silver rings he adorned on each hand glinting slightly in the firelight. What you loved most of all about his outfit, however, was the charm that hung from his right ear: a simple sliver sword pointed downward with a heart driven through it. You'd gotten it for him a few weeks after you'd come home from your adventure, the earing he wore in honour of Mystra long since been discarded along the road to Baldur's Gate and immediately swapped for the new one.

His hair seemed to be the only thing he had left to get ready, and you chuckled when he approached you with this comb and a hair tie. You both knew he was perfectly capable of doing it on his own, though he was thoroughly convinced it always looked better when you did it. Turning around and crouching down a little for you, you swept the top portion of his smooth hair up and back toward the back of his head, the strands of gray usually well-hidden by its rich brown colour now well apparent to you in the firelight. The sight of them only made you love him that much more, a gentle reminder of how very human he was.

Tying off the loose bun, you fixed any fly-aways and adjusted its position to perfection, proud of your quick handiwork.

"Zip me?" You asked him, turning around yourself as he turned back to face you.

He was more than happy to oblige, his finger gliding the zipper up your back at a much slower speed than necessary. When he reached the top, he leaned down to give your bare shoulder a quick kiss before whispering in your ear.

"Wait here." Was all he said to you before walking over to his bedside table and pulling a small box out of the drawer. As confused as you were in that moment, you obeyed his gentle order, only stealing a quick peek over your shoulder to satiate your curiosity.

All you heard was the soft sound of him removing the box lid before his hands came around your head to drape something around your neck and close the clasp at the back with a barely perceptible clink, the little cold piece of metal resting an inch or so below the jugular notch between your clavicles. You held it between your fingers and looked down to find a singular sliver charm identical to the one hanging from his ear threaded through a delicate silver chain. The gesture made you start to tear up, turning back around to face him.

"I wanted to wait to give it to you until your birthday, but you look so beautiful in that dress that I-" You cut off any remaining words in that sentence with a passionate kiss landing directly onto his unsuspecting lips, standing up on your toes and cradling both side of his face with your hands. He quickly deepened the kiss, his hands gripping your waist and gently pulling you into him.

"Do you like it?" He asked when you both came up for air, his magnificent brown eyes searching yours for anything that might answer his question. You thought it was probably the stupidest question that you had ever heard come out of his mouth. You were still too tearful to tease him about it, so instead you indulged him.

"I love it, Gale. Just as I love you." You punctuated your sentiments with another soft, languid kiss to his lips. Pulling back after a few moments, you were reminded of a line you particularly adored from the novel you were reading together earlier. "All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.” You quoted to him, each word flowing from your lips with unwavering confidence.

He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes glassy and brimming with tears. "And every piece of my heart is yours, along with my soul, my body, and whatever else you'll have of me. It's yours, and it was always going to be yours, in the end."

You brushed a lock of hair from his eyes and took one of his hands in your other, stroking the back of it with your thumb reassuringly. "I think it's time to go, love." You reminded him gently.

He nodded, picking up the gift basket you'd made together for his mother. He looked to you again, his gaze soft.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Always," you answered, giving his hand a little squeeze. Your gaze remained unwaveringly focused on him, wanting to absorb this wholesome moment you'd shared as best as you possibly could, locking it away in your mind for safe keeping.

If fate had been so generous to grant you this soft epilogue, then by the gods you were going to make sure every minute that brought you closer to the end was spent to its fullest, your lover's hand in yours.

~★~

Thank you for reading!

316 notes · View notes

kyunzin · 9 months

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚

pairing; husband!aizawa x gn!Reader

cw; nsfw, teasing, grinding, groping, riding, kissing, cockwarming?, use of love and baby (to both)

a/n; this was supposed to be sleepy sex with aizawa but i got a bit carried away, do tell me if you think I should add any more cw

husband!aizawa who came home late from his night shift finding the halfway dimly lit by a small antique light hanging from the ceiling.

husband!aizawa who walks with light steps knowing you’re asleep not wanting to wake you.

husband!aizawa who goes to the bathroom first stopping himself of his layers and slipping into the shower quickly to wash off.

husband!aizawa who steps out of the bath and dresses himself quickly and making his way to your shared room.

husband!aizawa who quietly opens the bedroom door to see you sprawled out on top of your king sized bed sheets pushed to the the side in only one of his shirts and underwear.

husband!aizawa who slowly pulls the sheets down to the end of the bed and lays himself down next you.

husband!aizawa who pulls you back against him gently not wanting to wake you and slips one arm under your waist reaching up to cup you chest throwing the other over to rest on your pelvis.

husband!aizawa who mumbles a sleepy “m’home love” into the back of your neck placing a soft kiss to your nape.

husband!aizawa who isn’t surprised when you mumble back a groggy “welcome back baby”.

husband!aizawa who lets out a low grunt when you push your ass against his crotch and let out a quiet “miss me?”.

husband!aizawa who nuzzles into your neck inhaling you sweet scent enjoying the feeling of you rubbing against him.

husband!aizawa who slurs out a “stop” because “you should sleep, I’ll fuck you when we wake up”.

husband!aizawa who is almost gives in when you let out a whine of “please, need you now, can’t wait”.

husband!aizawa who tells you it will take to long to prepare you as he already feels himself falling asleep.

husband!aizawa who feels his cock thickening out in his pants after you tell him that “I prepared myself before you came, I’m ready for you”.

husband!aizawa who knows he’s lost the game when he envisions you stretching yourself out for him knowing that you didn’t finish as you wouldn’t do so without his permission.

husband!aizawa who starts trailing kisses to to your neck and shoulder whispering out “you’ve been so good for me haven’t you baby, getting yourself ready all on your own ” and “I’m gonna give you what you want since you’ve prepared so nicely for me” in between them.

husband!aizawa who slides his hand that was resting on your pelvis down your underwear, slipping two fingers into your inviting hole.

husband!aizawa who elicits small moans from you as he teasingly fingers you avoiding the place he knows will make you scream.

husband!aizawa who plays with your chest while fingering you, flicking and pinching your nipples causing you to squirm trying to weasel your way out of his grip.

husband!aizawa who lets up when you plead for him to “stop teasing me and fuck me already” with a curt chuckle.

husband!aizawa who whispers “such a greedy hole you have” but pulls down his pjyama pants anyway, pulling out his now full mast cock from it’s confinement rubbing it against the curve of your ass.

husband!aizawa who moves your underwear to the side and teases your hole with his thick cockhead, slipping it in a little and pulling straight out letting.

husband!aizawa who feels as though he’s played with you enough and finally fills you out with a single slow thrust, the both of you cursing out in pleasure.

husband!aizawa who stays nestled inside you for a few seconds savouring the feel of you wet heat as he continues to grope your chest.

husband!aizawa who begins to languidly thrust into you enjoying the stretch of your hole around him.

husband!aizawa who tells you to “ride me then” when you whine that he’s being “to slow” and how he should “go faster”.

husband!aizawa who lays flat on his back while adjusting the pillow so that he can see you properly.

husband!aizawa who enjoys the sight of you stripping yourself of his shirt and your underwear, feeling your bare skin against his calloused hands.

husband!aizawa who rubs, squeezes and plays with your flesh in his hands until you swat them away telling him to “stop” because you’re “trying to focus” on slipping his cock back inside you.

husband!aizawa who lightly laughs as you struggle to sink down on him but lets you go at your own pace because it’s cute to see you struggle.

husband!aizawa who encourages you with praises of “c’mon baby, you can do it” and “your almost there just a little more” while he rubs up and down your thighs slowly.

husband!aizawa who was having fun watching you struggle but begins to lose his patience and asks if “you need help love?”.

husband!aizawa who when you let out a defeated whine of “yes please” tells you that “you did so well” and that he’s “proud of you for doing your best love”.

husband!aizawa who holds you still above him firmly by your hips asking you if “you ready”.

husband!aizawa who doesn’t wait for your answer and slams you down on him, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the room as well as your muffled moan that was covered by your hand.

husband!aizawa who frowns at your actions asking you to “move your hand please , let me hear you baby” which you immediately do.

husband!aizawa who asks if “you not going to move baby?” when you lean forward to rest your hands on his chest clearly trying to catch your breath small whimpers leaving your mouth.

husband!aizawa who swears your walls grip him tighter as you rise up slowly.

husband!aizawa who watches you throw your head back as you quickly sink down on him.

husband!aizawa who lets you go at your own pace for a while but notices when your energy begins to grow impatient.

husband!aizawa who grows frustrated with the slow movements of you hips against him and takes matters into his own hands thrusting sharply into you with a grunt of “you wanted fast right? I’ll give it to you baby”.

husband!aizawa who laughs when you moan our that he’s “too deep” and that you “feel so full” because he knows and feels it too by the way you squeeze around him.

husband!aizawa who sets a punishing pace skin slapping against yours rhythmically while you struggle to stay up right only to ending up leaning over him with one hand on the headboard and one by the side of his head.

husband!aizawa who continues his onslaught even when you ask him to “slow down” because “you asked for this baby, remember?”

husband!aizawa who changes his angle slightly so that he’s hitting you in the best spot which immediately causes you to scream out in ecstasy.

husband!aizawa who knows that you’re close to release even before your chants of “m’so close” and “don’t stop” because of the way your walls clench around him.

husband!aizawa who fucks into you with a little more vigour feeling himself getting close as well.

husband!aizawa who asks if “ you want to come together baby” through laborious breaths.

husband!aizawa who pulls you down for a loving kiss pace never letting up after you let out a “yes please baby” in between broken moans.

husband!aizawa who tells you to “come now baby” when he feels he’s ready the steady pulse if your walls convulsing around him setting him off the both of you moaning out in pleasure.

husband!aizawa who lets you slump against him your hot bodies pressing against each other both of you panting coming down from your highs.

husband!aizawa who kisses you again when you press your foreheads together wrapping his arms around your middle and lower back.

husband!aizawa who pulls the cover over the both of you, keeping his cock and come secure in you after you both collectively agree that you have no energy to go clean up.

husband!aizawa who kisses your forehead whispering “sweet dreams my love” when you bury your head in the croock of his neck.

husband!aizawa who falls asleep in the security of your bodies deeply connected.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀

#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa sensei #aizawa x you #aizawa smut #bnha smut #bnha #mha aizawa #aizawa x gn!reader #gn reader #my hero academia #my hero smut #my hero acedamia

387 notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 1 year

Text

🌶️ Yandere Baki Shorts:

Haunted 🌶️

Yandere Poltergeist Retsu x Afab reader

Minors Do Not Interact

Will you please buy me coffee?

“Now you won’t find a house quite like this one again!” The realtor exclaimed as he guided a young woman through the antique house. It was so strange to find a traditional Chinese home in Japan of all places, especially for such a low price… she couldn’t beat it with the way the housing market was. “It’s completely furnished and it’s already quite advanced for its time.”

(Your name) nods along with the realtor. She ignored his ramblings of all the traditional decor. She just wanted to move in as soon as possible to get out of where she was currently. Any home was better than where she resided.

“Now before you buy this place, I am obligated to tell you that someone died here.” The realtor told (your name) with a grim expression. “But it happened many years ago when this house was first built.”

“Oh… that’s not a problem-“

“It was a murder.” The realtor interrupted her. “Something about the lover’s spat? I’m not entirely sure what the story is.”

“That’s perfectly alright. I’ll take it.” (Your name) smiled at the realtor. She couldn’t beat a bargain like this… it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Yes… once in a lifetime.

(Your name) unloaded the last box from her car and wiped the sweat off her brow. Her eyes glanced over at the small stack of boxes in the living room.

It was a blessing that the house was already furnished, it meant she didn’t have to spend a fortune on furniture now.

(Your name admired the oriental decorations around the home. It was an extremely traditional home but she found it to be relaxing… almost like she’s been here before…

There was a part of her that felt like this home was familiar. That this specific house was somewhere she has been before despite her never seeing it until now. She was feeling dèjá vu.

(Your name) carried a few of the boxes towards the master bedroom to begin to unpack. She folded and hung up a few clothes, her hands smoothed out the wrinkles.

A yawn escaped her lips, the woman frowned a bit. Maybe she should take a nap before she continued? It’s not like she had a lot to unpack still… it could wait.

(Your name) stretched a bit and made her way towards the large king sized bed with red silk sheets. It was strange that they were so clean but who was she to complain? The scent of amber and mint lulled her into a quick sleep.

A coldness filled the room, the clothes were picked up by a seemingly invisible force as they were neatly folded and put away.

A chill racked through (your name)’s body, a few strands of her hair stuck straight up in the air. A pair of cold lips affectionately pressed against the strands.

“My húdié… you’ve finally come home to me…”

(Your name) stirred a bit in her sleep but didn’t wake up from the coldness in the home. Instead, she nestled herself deeper into the blankets.

The apparition ran his fingers through her locks, his dark eyes refused to leave her face. His soulmate was finally home with him again… and this time, he’d never let her go…

(Your name) woke up a few hours later with a refreshed feeling. She hadn’t meant to nap for that long, but her body thanked her for the much needed rest. It’s been a while since she’s slept so nicely.

(Your name) slung herself over the bed, her eyes glanced at the boxes she had left to unpack… but they weren’t there.

(Your name) rose up from the sheets to check out her closet, only to see her clothes were out away exactly the way she puts them away. Huh… maybe she did finish unpacking before she took that nap…

(Your name) decided not to think about it too much since she was still in the process of being awake. Perhaps she should grab a bite to eat?

(Your name) entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to see there was a container in there with her name on it… that was strange.

She opened it to see a neatly made lunch box. It looked delicious…

“How thoughtful…” (your name) smiled as she began to eat the thoughtfully prepared me. It was… “delicious.”

(Your name) savored the meal, unaware of the figure that observed her from the corner. Her tastes were still the same… he was so happy that she hadn’t changed after all these years… it made everything so much easier.

(Your name) noticed a strange presence in her home. She constantly felt eyes on her and sometimes she’d feel a cold draft whenever she was in bed or curled up on the couch. It was bizarre but it didn’t make her afraid… just uneasy.

(Your name) spent most of her time reading in the garden. The peonies and azaleas were in full bloom. The pink and white flowers gave the garden such a cozy, romantic feel to it. Someone must have loved whoever they built it for more than anything in the world…

(Your name) admired the koi fish in the pond that swam under the lily pads. The lotus flowers were fragrant warmed her heart.

“I love it here…” She couldn’t believe she had bought this house for such a steal. This place was a dream come true… she couldn’t believe people didn’t want to stay…

(Your name)’s fingers touched one of the lotus flowers with a smile. They were so beautiful… a shame she couldn’t pluck them.

(Your name) roses up and began to collect her things, unaware of a certain figure that sensed her dissatisfaction.

When she ducked back into the building, the ghostly figure plucked the lotus flower out of the pond.

“Anything to make my húdié happy…”

To say she was shocked would be an understatement at the sight before her… the lotus flower sat in a glass bowl on her counter.

“W-what?” She made he was over to the counter to check it out in confusion. Who could have plucked it for her?

(Your name) felt a chill go down her spin when something cold touched the back of her neck. She whipped her head around to see what touched her, but there wasn’t anything there…

“H-hello?” (Your name) asked softly. But there was no response… this was so strange…

And the haunting began…

(Your name) would wake up to the scent of breakfast being made every morning but there was never a single dirty dish. Only a plate sitting on the counter for her to eat and a freshly brewed cup of tea.

It’s been like this for the last few months… almost like she was getting breakfast made for her by her spouse…

Did she have a stalker? Who would go so far out of their way to take care of her?

She’d swear she’d hear someone humming next to her while she slept but there wouldn’t be anyone there… she was starting to become afraid…

Could it be a relative of the person who died in this house that didn’t want this house to be owned by anyone other than family?

(Your name) messaged her realtor about who the person was that died in this house. She wanted answers… there wasn’t a single logical explanation for the bizarre happenings in this house.

She was just grateful that this person, if she could even say that, only held utmost admiration for her.

A ghastly figure frowned at her dissatisfaction. She didn’t want to leave did she? No… he wouldn’t let (your name) leave him again… she was going to stay this time.

A call in the middle of the night woke her up from her deep sleep. The young woman groaned in annoyance but answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s the realtor… and I found something super spooky about that house.” (Your name) sat up, she was no wide awake at his words. Spooky? What did he mean by spooky?

“And what did you find?”

“Well, there was a couple that lived in that house almost a hundred years ago. Their names were Kaioh Retsu and… (your full name).” (Your name) froze in pure shock. The person who lived in this house was her? What?

“Please tell me you’re joking-“

“No. I wish I was… this Kaioh Retsu was an esteemed Kenpo master and he built the house for his wife, (your name).” The realtor began to ramble. “It seems he was really obsessed with his wife. He did everything for her so it was crazy when she killed him.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold. Killed him… his wife murdered him? Why? Why would she kill her doting husband?

“I did some digging and it seemed he killed all of her friends and family since they didn’t approve of her being with a foreigner. They say she died shortly after murdering her husband.” The realtor sucked in a breath. “The picture of the wife in this photo looks exactly like you… I’ll send it to you.”

(Your name) began to shake like a leaf at the photo. She looked eerily similar to the wife but the man… the man was far more handsome than she expected. He had a muscular physique and long black hair that was in a braid. Retsu didn’t look like the type who would murder his wife’s family and friends…

“Pretty freaky right-“ Her phone suddenly shut off. The woman feeling a cold presence behind her and what felt like hands on her waist.

“Who are you talking to?” A deep voice whispered in her ear. And that’s when she saw him… the man from the photo. Kaioh Retsu.

(Your name)’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Ghosts weren’t real… what?

Retsu wrapped his hands firmly around her wrists.

“(Your name)… don’t be scared.” Retsu’s hands cupped her cheeks. But rather than the warmth of flesh, all she felt was a cold draft touching her skin. “It’s me… it’s your husband, Retsu.”

(Your name) could only tremble as the apparition slowly became more visible as a man rather than a cloud of mist. Even in such a ghostly form, she could tell he was still handsome.

Retsu smiled at her. He was glad she found him physically attractive just like she used to. She didn’t have as many friends anymore nor did she have a family. It made it all the easier…

Retsu leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. His hands eagerly explored her soft flesh.

“My húdié… I’m so happy you’re here.” And with a light force, he pushed her back into the bed. His icy hands pushed her shirt up, the frigid touch made her shiver. “My beautiful wife…”

“W-wait! I’m not-“ His lips pressed against hers to silence her protests as his fingers harshly flicked her nipples. A soft whine escaped her lips at the motion.

“You’re still sensitive here… where else are you still sensitive?” Retsu’s hand dipped down between her legs, his expertly fingers stroking her clothed cunt. “It’s been almost a century since I last touched you and you’re still so beautiful…”

(Your name) threw back her head when his fingers hooked around the edge of her panties and pushed them off to the side to dip his cold fingers inside. Her cavern tightening around the foreign intrusion in shock.

“You’re tighter than I remember… but maybe that’s because you don’t remember the shape of my cock?” Retsu chuckled at her glazed over expression. His fingers thrusting in and out of her warmth at a speed that wasn’t human. “You sound so beautiful, húdié and you’re so wet.”

She was lost in bliss, stars were practically seen from how his thumb grazed over her clit so deliciously. This ghostly man was better than any vibrator she’s ever had… she was close.

“Ah!” (Your name) threw back her head, her orgasm rocked through her body like an earthquake. Retsu smiled down at her satisfied expression. She’s never had such satisfaction before… not from anyone or anything…

“My wife looks so happy… here. Let me give you more.” Retsu gently began to discard her clothes off her limp body. The man sung her praises the whole time. “You’re so soft… so lovely.”

(Your name) didn’t have firm to bask in her bliss before she felt something cold and thick press against her entrance. Her body sitting up a bit to see that Retsu was now bare before her. His traditional clothing discarded to reveal himself to her.

And without a word, he pushed in. Her head thrown back as a strangled cry escaped her lips. Retsu simply smiling at her reactions.

“You’re being so good for me… you’re taking me so well.” Retsu shushed her whines, his fingers wiped away her tears. “We’re one again… I’m finally with my wife again.”

And Retsu began to slowly thrust himself in and out of her. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. He was the perfect size and the right amount of thickness to make her feel so full… she felt so satisfied.

“Does it feel good, my húdié? I want to hear you…”

“Y-yes… I feel good.” (Your name) cried out when Retsu slowly started to get a little rougher. “P-please don’t stop!”

Retsu smirked, his hips postponed into hers at a pleasurable speed. His hands grasped her hips upward to hit her at her favorite angle. His perfect wife was still the same… and he was determined to keep her this time.

“I can make you feel like this all the time… won’t that be lovely?” Retsu chuckled when he noticed her tethering towards another orgasm. “I’ll give you endless love and pleasure forever… all you had to do is say it.”

“Retsu!” (Your name) cried out, her fingers digging into his arms to try to get a grasp on herself and the overwhelming pleasure she felt. This was entirely all too much for her to handle…

“Say you want forever with me!” Retsu grunted, his thrusts border lining brutal to try to get her to comply to what he wanted.

“I-I-“ (your name) could feel her orgasm right there. She was so close… so close… “I want to stay with you forever!”

And that’s when the biggest orgasm she’s ever had racked through her body. The sheets a mess as Retsu fucked her through it. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled with pleasure.

Her body went slack but Retsu kept gently thrusting into her. The ghost pressed cold kisses all over her exposed skin. His teeth nipped at her nipples with a smile.

“Of course you can… you can stay…” (Your name) felt a wave of fatigue wash through her but Retsu kept moving. “You’ll be so happy when you wake up.”

(Your name) screamed I’m horror at the sight of her body in front of her. She was a ghost now… what happened?

“It’s okay, xiǎo bǎo bèi. It’s okay…” Retsu kissed her shoulders in reassurance. The man placing his hand over her eyes. “We can be together now… forever.”

(Your name) tried to flee but she found herself being bounced back by an invisible force when she reached the door.

“Xiǎo bǎo bèi… ghosts cannot leave the place where they died…”

“How did I die?” (Your name) sobbed, hee eyes stared into Retsu’s who’s held a sadness to them. “Did you-“

“Not purposely… I didn’t think I’d drain all your life force.” Retsu shook, the man rushed forward to pull her into his arms. “You weren’t supposed to die! I swear! I just made love to you…”

Retsu began to cry as he held her. “But hey… we can be together now. I promise you that we can enjoy our after life together. I’ll even help you bury your body, okay?”

(Your name) could only sob in his arms as he held her. This was never supposed to happen… she wasn’t supposed to end up being a part of this house with this obsessive man.

She would forever be haunted by him…

367 notes · View notes

mrs-fatu · 4 months

Text

Blossom in Summer

Chapter 1: Why me?

Paring: jey uso x Jasmine (fem!reader)

Warnings: Language, anger, confusion

WC: 2,824

Summary: Jasmine wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom with no memory of last night. Who is this man? And why did he pick her?

As I slowly opened my eyes, the morning sun cast a warm glow across the lavish bedroom, bathing me in a soft, golden light. The silk curtains, adorned with intricate patterns, seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, and the sweet scent of dior Sauvage wafted through the air, filling my senses. But as I sat up, my head began to pound, and I was hit with a wave of confusion. Where was I? This wasn't my bedroom. The silk sheets tangled around my bare legs felt luxurious, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was a stranger in this unfamiliar surrounding.

I forced my eyes open again, taking in the room around me with a sense of disorientation. The walls were a deep, rich blue, accentuated by traditional lavalavas hanging in beautifully crafted frames. To my left stood an antique black armoire, its intricate carvings telling a story of elegance and sophistication. The plush blue rug beneath the massive four-poster bed seemed to have been imported from a far-off land, and I felt like I was sleeping on a cloud.

As I sat up, holding my throbbing head in my hands, memories of the previous night began to trickle back. The fancy cocktail bar with my friends, doing shot after shot of tequila until the night blurred into a haze. Stumbling into a swanky hotel suite afterward, though I couldn't remember exactly how I'd gotten there. Who did this room belong to? And where had they gone? The questions swirled in my mind like a whirlpool, pulling me under.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up on shaky feet, clutching the bedpost for support. My head felt like it was going to split open, and I needed to figure out what happened and get out of here. As I looked down at myself, I saw that I was still wearing the silky black dress from last night, now wrinkled and creased. It was then that I noticed something heavy on my left wrist - a tennis bracelet so bright it almost blinded me. What was it doing there?

Just as I was trying to make sense of the strange circumstances, the door on the side of the room swung open, and a tall figure emerged. He stood at 6'2", his chiseled physique on full display as he walked towards me. His ebony shorts clung to his toned thighs and waist, accentuating his inked legs and tribal tattoos that glistened against his damp skin.

His hair was styled in a seductive mullet, and his lips sported a perfect shade of color, revealing his dazzling grillz as he parted them. It was like he had stepped out of a steamy romance novel, and I felt like I was staring at a character come to life.

"Morning," he spoke, his deep voice low and husky.

I stood there in shock, unable to form words. He walked around me, opening a drawer from his dresser to pull out his clothes. My eyes followed him, mesmerized by the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

"I'm sorry, who...?" I stuttered before I could finish.

But before I could even get the words out, my stomach began to churn and I felt like I was going to vomit. I stumbled backward, but it was too late. The morning sickness washed over me, and I threw up right on the floor.

He darted towards me, concern etched on his face. "Shit, you good?" he asked as he brushed away a dangling curl from my face.

"I'm sorry...I'm..." I spoke, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

But before I could finish speaking, he ushered me towards his bed and sat me down on the edge. "Sit down," he said softly.

As he left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and emotions, I felt like my world was spinning out of control.

I just wanted to go home, to crawl back into my own bed and forget the reckless night I had just endured. But instead, I found myself in a luxurious bedroom, surrounded by the opulent trappings of a life that was not my own. A diamond tennis bracelet glinted on my wrist, a constant reminder of my foolishness. How could I have been so irresponsible, drinking so much that I ended up in this strange and unfamiliar place?

As I sat on the bed, trying to gather my thoughts, my phone began to ring. I picked it up from the nightstand, hoping for some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic situation. "Hello?" I spoke, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Girl, where the hell are you?" asked my best friend Natasha, her voice laced with concern.

"I...I don't even know," I replied, trying to gather my thoughts. "I'm with a man, and...and I threw up on his carpet, so..."

Natasha's laughter came through the phone, followed by a gasp. "Wait, is he sexy?" she asked, her tone playful.

"Um, well...he looks like he's from some kind of Pacific Island or something," I replied. "He has all these tribal tattoos and lavalavas on his wall."

Natasha's squeal of excitement was music to my ears. "Don't stop there, bitch! Tell me more! How does he look?"

I took a deep breath before launching into a detailed description of the mans handsome features. "Well, he has a short-cut mullet, and he's kinda muscular. His thighs are thick...and he has bottom grillz...and his voice is low and smooth."

Natasha's reaction was immediate. "Oh my god, Jas! You're in trouble!"

I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Shit, I gotta go," I said hastily. "he's back."

"Okay, girl, let me know if you need me to pick you up," Natasha said, her voice dripping with concern. "I love you, be safe Jaz."

The line went dead as Natasha hung up, leaving me alone with him once more. I felt a sense of trepidation wash over me as he walked towards me, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.

As I stood up from the bed, I felt a sense of unease wash over me. He had just finished cleaning up the spot where I had vomited, and now his eyes were locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I met his gaze, my mind still foggy from the previous night's excesses.

"I'm really sorry...I need to leave," I said, trying to sound apologetic as I began to step into my shoes.

His eyes darted as he stood up, his expression unreadable. "You just gonna forget about last night?" he asked, his tone laced with accusation.

I hesitated, searching for the right words to say. The truth was, I didn't remember what happened last night. It was all a blur of music, laughter, and tequila shots. But I knew that I couldn't keep it up forever, not when I had no idea what had happened or who this man was.

"I don't..." I paused, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over me.

The man let out a huff, his expression turning annoyed. "Damn, you don't even remember," he said, his voice dripping with disappointment.

"I am very sorry," I said, trying to apologize once again. "And...the bracelet. You can have it back, I'm sorry."

I started to unhook the bracelet, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as I handed it back to him. But instead of taking it from me, he spoke up again.

"Just keep the bracelet, Jaz. I don't want it back. If you want to leave then go, the door is over there," he said, his tone hostile.

I was taken aback by his words. "I'm sure you spent hella on it," I said, trying to reason with him. "I don't want to..."

But he cut me off again. "Bruh, keep it, Jaz. I gave it to you for a reason."

His words were laced with aggression, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized that he was genuinely upset with me. But why? What had happened last night?

As I stood there, feeling a sense of unease wash over me once again, he spoke up again.

"And I bet you don't even remember my name huh?" he asked, his tone dripping with disdain.

I lightly shook my head, feeling a sense of shame wash over me. How could I have forgotten someone's name?

He sucked his teeth in disgust before speaking up again. "It's Joshua, Jey Uso," he said agitatedly. The name sounded slightly familiar but not quite.

With that, I grabbed my purse and made my way towards the door. As I left the room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. I had no idea what had happened last night or who Jey was or why he was so upset with me. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there before things got any worse.

I stood on the sidewalk of the penthouse, my head still throbbing with a dull ache. The morning sunlight was harsh, and I winced as I squinted up at the towering skyscrapers. I pulled out my phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that my friend Tiffany would be able to come and rescue me from this situation.

As I waited for her to answer, I took a deep breath and tried to clear the fog from my mind. What had happened last night? Who was Jey Uso, and why did he seem so angry with me? And why, for that matter, had he let me keep the diamond tennis bracelet? It didn't make any sense.

The phone rang again, and Tiffany's cheerful voice answered. "Hey, what's up?"

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Hey, can you come get me? I'll send you the address."

Tiffany's voice turned serious. "Yeah, I'll see you soon. Be careful."

The line went dead, and I was left standing alone on the sidewalk, feeling like I was in a fog. Who was Jey Uso, and why had I ended up in his penthouse apartment? What had happened last night, and why did I have such a pounding headache?

As I stood there, trying to make sense of it all, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car approaching approaching. It was Tiffany, looking stylish and put-together as always in her benz.

"Hey, girl, get in" she said, concern etched on her face. i stepped into her car and took a deep breath, "What happened?"

I shook my head, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as I handed her the keys. "I don't know," I said. "I don't remember anything from last night."

Tiffany's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't know who Jey Uso is or what happened. But I need some coffee and some crackers. Like, right now."

i rubbed my temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing headache, my friend Tiffany's eyes lit up like a bright light bulb. "JEY USO?" she yelled in question, her voice piercing the morning air.

I winced, feeling a wave of pain wash over me. "Goddamn girl, my head," I groaned, trying to hold onto my sanity.

Tiffany's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I'm sorry, but you said his name is Jey Uso, right?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

I nodded my head, feeling a sense of resignation wash over me. "Yeah, why? Then he let me keep this bracelet," I said, holding up my wrist to show her the diamond tennis bracelet.

Tiffany's reaction was immediate. She squealed like a little child, her eyes wide with excitement. "YOU STAYED WITH JEY USO AND HE GAVE YOU A TENNIS BRACELET?" she repeated, her voice rising to a near-shriek.

I palmed my face, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over me. "My head. Please stop screaming," I begged.

Tiffany's laughter died down, and she looked at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Oh, girl, I'm sorry. Jey Uso is the WWE wrestler, and he's fine as hell!" she exclaimed.

I gave her a skeptical look, feeling a sense of unease. "What? Come on, you can't tell me he's not sexy. He's main event Jey Uso. And God, the way he flicks his tongue... We have to go to the supershow tonight, you gotta see him in the ring," she said.

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of trepidation. "I mean, he's okay, but he was kinda rude. If going to the show will make you happy then sure. But I really need some fucking coffee," I said.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll get you coffee and then get ready for the show," she said before driving off into the morning traffic.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion. Who was Jey Uso, and why did he seem so angry with me? And what had happened last night? The questions swirled in my mind like a whirlpool, refusing to be silenced.

But for now, all I could think about was getting home and getting some coffee into my system. Maybe then things would start to make sense again.

—

I knew that having a hangover wasn't the best, but coffee always seemed to come in handy.

I reached for my trusty brush and gel, and began to work my hair into a sleek, curly ponytail. The hard bristles of the brush glided effortlessly through my locks, leaving them smooth and tamed. I then moved on to my eyebrows, using a precision brow pencil to reshape them into a thin, arching shape that I preferred. The gentle strokes of the pencil seemed to calm my frazzled nerves, and I felt a sense of clarity wash over me.

With my brows in order, I turned my attention to my makeup. I carefully applied a light foundation to even out my complexion, followed by a subtle blush to give my cheeks a healthy glow. A swipe of mascara added depth and drama to my lashes, and a swipe of lip balm left my lips feeling soft and hydrated.

As I finished up my makeup routine, I stood up and surveyed my reflection. I was pleased with the results - my hair looked luscious and bouncy, and my makeup was understated yet effective. I then gathered my clothes, selecting a nice outfit that would see me through the day.

As I dressed, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures in life - a hot shower, a good cup of coffee, and a fresh start. The night moonlight streaming through the window seemed to hold promise, and I felt a sense of renewed energy coursing through my veins.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing out any wrinkles or creases in my outfit. Satisfied with the result, I headed out into the night, ready to face whatever happens.

As I emerged from the hotel, I was greeted by the warm night and the sound of Tiffany's horn blaring in the distance. I rushed towards the car, my mind still foggy from the lingering effects of the night before. As I slipped into the passenger seat, Tiffany flashed me a bright smile. "You look good, girl!" she exclaimed.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of gratitude for her kind words. "Thanks, you look good too," I replied, taking in her stylish outfit.

As we hit the road, Tiffany began to drive, her eyes fixed on the windshield. "Okay, so remember, we're going to see Jey tonight. I got us front row tickets, so at least cheer when he comes out, because I definitely will," she said, her voice filled with excitement.

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of confusion wash over me. What was up with this man? Why did women like Tiffany drool over him so much? I mean, I got it - he was hot as hell - but I didn't understand all the hype. The traffic lights seemed to be flashing in sync with the diamond bracelet on my wrist, and all I could think about was why me? What had happened? Would it all come back to me?

As we navigated through the crowded streets of Las Vegas, my mind began to wander back to the night before. The anger in Jey's eyes as I told him I didn't remember anything was still etched in my memory. It was enough to keep me away from him, to make me realize that I didn't need another angry man in my life. Not again.

After dealing with Aaron, I had promised myself that I wouldn't dare let another angry man into my life again. And now, as I sat in the car with Tiffany, I knew that I had to keep my distance from Jey Uso. Maybe after the show, I could find him and give him the bracelet back - never look back. It would be for my own good.

As we pulled up to the venue, I took a deep breath and let my thoughts settle. I had five days left in Vegas, and I was determined to make the most of it. No more worrying about waking up in a random man's bed. No more drama or stress. Just me, myself, and a fresh start.

#fanfic #jey uso #wwe fanfiction #jeysuso #main event jey uso #wwe #jey uso fanfiction #series #jey uso x oc

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letsgetrowdy43 · 1 year

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Luke brings home a girl to meet his family. Gave her a tour the lake house. Didn’t know she a piano prodigy. Just in awe of her. (Inspired by https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Z75QuC9TuHY&pp=ygUbTGFkdCBzb25nIG1pbGV5IHBsYXlzIHBpYW5v )

The prodigy ❧

He’d only met her a few weeks prior to inviting her over for dinner with his family.

She had run into him while at the beach, the girl's younger brother threw his beach ball right at Luke’s head while she was trying to teach him how the game of volleyball works. The girl apologized repeatedly, her face flush with embarrassment as he brushed off her sorries, “I’ll accept your apology if you accept my invitation to dinner,” he grinned as the girl agreed to his terms.

That was a little over a month ago after finding out that the girl was a New York native and going to university at Rutgers Luke knew that he could make this work, so he decided what better way to see how well this plays out than to introduce her to the most important people in his life.

She was nervous but excited, she’d heard amazing things about the Hughes’, his entire friend group raved about Ellen and Jim’s kindness and his brother's way of making everyone feel like family, so she wasn’t surprised when they had met her expectations the moment she stepped foot into their lake house.

Ellen was in the kitchen finishing up dinner when Luke ushered her to meet his mom, “it’s lovely to finally put a face to the girl my son has been talking so highly of,” the woman smiled as she pulled the young girl into her arms. “Luke you show her around and I’ll finish up dinner,” she said as she pushed her son out of the kitchen so she could concentrate.

Luke gave her the grand tour, starting the tour in his room which he had finally cleaned, wanting to impress her. They ran into Jack in the basement who seemed a little too excited to meet Luke’s new girl, a smirk on his lips as Luke cut their chat short before his brother could say anything embarrassing. And finally, they ended up in the living room, her eyes lighting up at the antique upright piano in the corner of the room, some random sheet music on the music shelf, a large oil painting sitting on top of it along with a few hanging plants.

“Who can play piano?” “It was my great grandmothers, the best I can do is a lovely rendition of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’,” he mused as she looked up at him with these questioning eyes, almost asking for permission for her to play, “Do you want to play it, mom got it tuned in April.”

She nodded slowly and walked over to it, taking a seat as she ushered for Luke to come closer. She delicately placed her fingers on the keys and started to play ‘Une Barque Sur L’océan’ her brows pulled into a concentrated look as her hands danced over the keys. Luke sat in awe, his heart loudly beating in his chest as he watched the emotions pour out of her into the music.

“Who’s playing that?” Jim asked as he and Quinn entered the living room, he was met with a ‘shush’ from his youngest son who was sitting on the couch watching the girl play beautifully.

As the song came to an end the girl came out of her trance and looked around the room at all of the Hughes family members standing in the entrances of the living room watching her.

“Did I mention I almost went to Julliard?” She asked shyly as she looked to Luke whose lips were slightly parted, eyes full of hearts as he watched the blush on her face start to form from all the attention she was gaining. “No, you didn’t.” “I decided to go the more practical route and studied education instead,” she grinned at the boy who was slowly coming out of his love-infused trance.

“You’re perfect did you know that?” he questioned as his lips met the side of her face.

i kinda love this!!!

#rotalks: luke hughes night #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #umich imagine

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oopsbirdficced · 26 days

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Here’s my second art for the @tolkienrsb 2024!

Watercolor pencil and micron liner pens on watercolor paper, the whole sheet has been tea dyed to try and give it an antiquated feel.

Please watch this space for links to the finished fic, Return, and Begin Again, written by the lovely @thesummerestsolstice, featuring a Glorfindel returning to Middle Earth to aid Gil-Galad in his kingship whilst dealing with chronic pain. Fic reveals are on September 6th!!!!

#trsb24 #silmarillion #glorfindel #gil galad #disability #fanart #traditional art

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wedarkacademia · 9 months

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dark academia stationary tips? ideas? please? i beg of you.

Deepen Your Dive into Dark Academia Stationery:

Crafting the Canvas:

Paper: Embrace the tactile – rough-edged parchment, marbled sheets, hand-dyed linen paper. Seek antique ledgers, vintage score sheets, or maps for a truly timeworn effect.

Ink: Let your words drip in history – deep emerald greens, rich burgundy, charcoal grey. Discover shimmering gold or silver for elegant annotations. For an extra flourish, explore calligraphy inks and vintage fountain pens.

Beyond the Basics:

Washi Tapes: Forget the neon, embrace botanical prints, celestial patterns, and antique library stamps. Layer them for depth, use them to seal letters, or decorate journal edges.

Stickers & Tags: Pressed leaves, dried flowers, and ephemera from library archives add a touch of natural mystery. Vintage anatomy diagrams, constellations, and old library catalog cards offer an academic flair.

Sealing Secrets: Wax seals & ribbons elevate simple letters into heirlooms. Choose deep green wax, embossed with a raven, a quill, or your own monogram. Tie with silk or hemp twine for a finishing touch.

Unleashing the Scholarly Spirit:

Journals & Notebooks: Opt for leather-bound volumes, with aged paper and ribbon bookmarks. Decorate with antique maps, pressed flowers, or handwritten quotes from your favorite poets.

Organizing Knowledge: Index cards, vintage library pockets, and antique file folders help categorize your studies. Label them with elegant script and adorn them with botanical sketches or scientific diagrams.

The Scholar's Tools: Antique brass compasses, vintage rulers, and magnifying glasses add a touch of academic ambiance to your desk.

Whispers of Antiquity:

Poetry & Letters: Handwrite in a flowing script, penning sonnets or letters to fellow scholars. Let foreign languages add a touch of mystery, or slip in quotes from forgotten classics.

Ephemera & Found Objects: Tuck pressed leaves, antique botanical prints, or ticket stubs from forgotten museums into your notebooks. Let them spark inspiration and evoke past journeys.

The Art of Storytelling: Create your own dark academia-inspired stationery. Make vintage-themed envelopes from maps, decorate boxes with constellation patterns, or craft your own wax seal stamp.

Remember, dark academia is about embracing an atmosphere. Let your creativity flow, curate your collection with intention, and transform your stationery into a portal to an enchanting world of forgotten knowledge and secret societies.

#dark academia #stationary #studying #studyblr #dark acamedia #spilled words #spilled thoughts #text #words #answered #ask #anon #replies #inbox

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upmala · 6 months

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behold my new archsketchbook!

details: 15.5x21.5cm (roughly A5), 450gsm Hahnemühle rough watercolour paper, 2mm MDF board covers with antique dragon print, bound with a combination of coptic stitch and French link stitch with green linen ribbon.

some process pics and bits under the cut:

welcome to my desk, by the way!

i think my favourite part of making sketchbooks is picking out the materials. seeing what i can use from what i have, how it plays with what i can find at the shop, maybe something there surprises me and inspires me to change direction.

this time i wanted something light and springtimey, without strong contrasts, but the dragon print paper at the shop swept me away.

the shop only had big sheets of 450gsm watercolour paper, which meant single page signatures. i don't think i've ever painted on paper this thick. ended up only having 9 signatures (36 pages), but that's okay because i have a problem with finishing sketchbooks that are too long anyway.

initially i was considering buying a large metal pipe, sharpening it and sawing it in half, using it as a curved guillotine to cut out the arches, and while i do have the resources to do such a thing, if i'm only making one sketchbook, it's a bit overkill. (and unless someone commissions me (hello!), i don't think i'll be making more.) so i ended up cutting everything by hand and using sandpaper to even it off.

surprisingly, the arches were no trouble at all - i cut half-inch strips into the arched side and folded them over each other. while you can feel the corners by touch, visually it's a pretty smooth curve. i think the mix of starch glue and PVA glue (thanks @vociferal for the tips!) on the surprisingly durable dragon paper made for an easy process, as the paper stuck immediately, dried quickly and didn't leave any nasty residue.

i had doubts over whether to leave the ribbon on top of the cover or tuck it under the endpaper, but in the end i preferred the clean cover look. it does bulge under the endpaper (see the last pic before the cut) but i'm okay with that - it hints at the process, making it clear that this here is a unique object that was made in a way that hasn't been endlessly optimised by precise machines, but crafted by human hands, striving for perfection but inextricably, lovingly flawed.

now, if you'll excuse me, i have to go and fill this beauty with freaky swampcore paintings...

#yes i'm calling it the archsketchbook #yes it's automatically in charge of the other sketchbooks #bookbinding #sketchbook #diy #my crafts #my art

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alki-studio · 3 months

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Bookbinding Process (1/2): The Wolf Queen, from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

I have a very exciting comission— I’m binding The Wolf Queen, an in-game novel from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I’ve never played the game, but my client told me they enjoy collecting and reading the books in the game. According to the Elder Scrolls wiki, there are apparently 820 of them! I’m binding the one of the longer stories, which is actually broken up into 8 volumes.

In researching, it seems that the volumes seem to take on completely different binding styles, but we agreed on the style shown here. We also decided to condense these volumes into 1 book— the entire story is only about 12k words, and while the handwritten large text works well for reading the story on a small in-game window on your monitor, it’s not really practical for a physical book. That, and even if I were to print these true to size for the game, each volume would still be about 40 pages, which only equates to 10 sheets of folded paper, so it wouldn’t make for a very robust collection on the shelf.

You can see that these books in this game are actually quite weathered, and it seems like all the paper is unevenly torn. If we were to equate Skyrim’s time period with our own based on technology, it’s likely these pages would have been parchment. The in-game textures definitely support this, even for the bindings that seem to be a few centuries ahead of their time.

We agreed that antiqued cotton paper would be a suitable alternative, as enough parchment for this project would run a couple thousand dollars as-is, and I don’t believe I have the equipment necessary to print on it. I needed something with a quick turnaround for this project, so I went with this paper in the ‘Vintage Deckle’ finish in the A4 size. According to one review, it’s also short-grained, so it’s actually ideal for bookbinding.

Typesetting

I’m using Adobe InDesign to typeset this, but it can also be done with Word and other alternatives.

Here’s a guide by ArmoredSuperHeavy on tumblr.

I think Bethesda owns the font used in the Elder Scrolls games, but there is a dupe of it on dafont.com called Cyrodiil. However, it definitely feels and reads more as a modern font; it was designed with readability after all. I’m definitely going for something that feels like a Celtic manuscript, based both on the decorative Celtic knot tooling, and the Gaelic look of the font. I eventually found Kelmscott, which carries the same Gaelic characteristics as Cyrodiil, and is still relatively easy to read, but feels more calligraphic.

I also downloaded Medieval Victoriana for the decorative first letters of each chapter.

To typeset the text, I followed a tutorial article by Grace Fussell and Adobe’s guide for creating book files.

I wanted the text to look dense and almost glyphic, as many old medieval manuscripts do, while still being easy enough to read. I played around with the paragraph tools and eventually settled on this layout. While certainly not all manuscripts have multiple columns, I want this typesetting to really break the boundaries seen in most modern prints of books, so I decided on this two-column format. Some manuscripts keep the text frame smaller and in the center of the page, much like you see in later centuries when the printing area was restricted by a press, but once again, I want to emphasize the look of ‘handwritten’ manuscript, so I made sure to use wide margins.

Some other fun details I added were glyphs at the beginning of each chapter, and surrounding the page numbers.

I exported the file for print with InDesign’s ‘Print Booklet’ feature, with the 2-up perfect bound with a signature size of 8 (2 pieces of paper/4 spreads/8 text pages).

Text Block

Here’s the printed and folded signatures! I’m really pleased with how these came out— it has the exact weathered look I was trying to emulate from in-game. As an added bonus, since the source material wasn’t particularly long, the thickness of the paper (150gsm) gave the text block a good amount of volume.

Out of lack of good online reference, my client ended up sending me photos of the book in-game. I was excited to realize this book seems to be bound on cords or leather straps— kind of difficult to tell from the model. We decided to go with a slit leather strap.

I couldn’t find a great reference image of the stitch for this, but I used the same technique of punching and sewing my signatures as this double cord instructional from The Thames and Hudson Manual of Book Binding.

Endpaper

I definitely wanted to go for a more traditional endpaper, so I looked at what I had in my stash of marbled paper. I was initially drawn to this Renato Crepaldi peackock marble I got from Hollander’s, which has a beautiful red that screams “medieval” to me, but Skyrim is a cold place, so I was also drawn to go for this blizzard-esque marble. Though, I ultimately decided on this dark blue/indigo paper I got from the Paper Source.

I went for the indigo because the protagonist of this novel I’m binding, Potema Septim, the Wolf Queen herself, is associated with the color purple. Since the goal of this binding was to recreate an in-game item as it would be in-game, a bookbinder in Skyrim would also most likely want to make design choices reflecting the contents of this specific book. Or maybe they’d be illiterate and just go for the red. Either way, my client also liked the dark indigo, so that’s what we went with.

This endpaper is the cover weight of De Milo Design’s line of paper called Sustain & Heal. It’s fair trade, handmade in Bangladesh, from jute fibers.

It also has deckled edges, so I made sure to align my cuts to use that, and I tore the rest by hand to keep the natural edges consistent. This is a bit of an unconventional aesthetic choice, but it stemmed from that it’d be odd if the fly leafs were straight cut with the rest of the text block so extremely deckled.

Headbands

Keeping with the purple/indigo/blue theme, I made two-colored headbands around jute cord with DCM embroidery floss in colors 31 and 796. I basically used the technique outlined here. In retrospect though I’d recommend doing a big double endband or something bulky with this paper, since the deckled edges tend to push the endband back towards the spine and hide it.

Please continue reading here!

Process: Part 1 | Part 2 | Final Result

#bookbinding #bibliophile #alki studio #commission #skyrim #the elder scrolls #the wolf queen #potema

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rocksanddeadflowers · 1 year

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I've had an on-and-off obsession with bookbinding the past few years, and while listening to the song Tales To Be Told, I have had an apostrophe (forgive the awful joke please it's a reference to Hook I mean I have an idea).

"The book is lying open, there are tales to be told."

I want to make a giant book full of The Mechanisms's work. Like, music, fiction, maybe even snippets of dialogue from live shows.

By big book, I mean a damn tome. Fashioned to look like an antique, like tea stained pages and weather covered. Also, I have absolutely no way to print signatures yet, and even if I did I doubt I could get a printer to work with pages large enough for the vision. So everything will probably be hand written, which does leave plenty of room for creative liberty.

I don't know what all I'll put together yet, like what the cover will look like (very possibly just a faded version of their logo), if I'll use images, if I'll use sheet music of any sort or just write lyrics, etc.

Also, I don't even know if I'll actually make this, bc I usually can't stick with a project like this long enough to finish. Honestly I probably won't do it. But I really, really want to.

And even if I don't, I thought the initial idea would be cool to share, because a giant tome of their tales to be told feels like a really cool prop. Whether you actually make it or reference it in a fic/fanart of some sort.

#the mechanisms #tales to be told #bookbinding

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serene-faerie · 8 days

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Gotei 13 Lieutenants/Squad Members as Aesthetics

Sasakibe— earl gray tea, thunderstorms, organized files, a tidy desk, sharp eyes, smiles that are rarely seen, undying loyalty, quiet evenings in the office, classical music, neat handwriting, edelweiss, tailcoat suits, puzzles, a wooden chess board, butter biscuits and scones, earned respect, lightning, a stern voice, an antique desk lamp, fountain pens, reading the newspaper, black-and-white movies, the smell of ink and papers.

Omaeda— rice crackers, being a big brother, protecting family with one's life, deceiving appearances, stacks of cash, a spiked iron ball attached to a chain, buying gifts for loved ones, ivy leaves, gold rings, stacks of gold ingots, giving piggyback rides, a grand mansion, lavish banquets, expensive cars, being smarter than how one looks, the smell of strong cologne, undying loyalty to one's superior and family, candies, men's magazines, lazy afternoons.

Kira— yellow carnations, rainy and cloudy days, writing haiku poetry, soft candlelight, a heart burdened with grief and regret, thick blankets, hesitant smiles, love for one’s friends, the smell of earth after rain, hot showers, a bowl of hot soup, leather-bound journals, cold hands, quiet laughter, working late at night, trusting reluctantly, loyalty to a fault, a cold and calculating fighter, a mug of warm green tea, grieving alone, drunk karaoke with friends, an organized workspace, appreciating the arts, painting with watercolours, listening to white noise, bearing burdens alone, the weight of guilt, sleeping peacefully after a long time.

Isane— shy smiles, neatly folding sheets and laundry, the smell of antiseptic, the hands of a healer, crying happy tears, gardenia flowers, collecting medicinal herbs, a strong knowledge of medicine, always carrying bandages, chamomile tea, gardening for fun, blue butterflies, open windows on a summer afternoon, a slow-moving ceiling fan, a soft-spoken voice, a graceful height, playing with one's own hair, always finishing work on time, short afternoon naps, a glass of fruit juice, secretly reading romance novels.

Momo— peach blossoms, a calm spring breeze, crackling fires, chamomile tea, the smell of freshly-baked cookies, baking desserts, always being organized, smiling to hide the pain, humming quietly to oneself, bread and peach jam, a shelf full of well-loved books, pure adoration, hands that tremble ever so slightly, reminiscing over the past, a quiet strength, thick wool mittens, fiery rage, april showers bring may flowers, always working hard, healing from the past, carefree laughter.

Renji— long hair as red as blood, stray dogs, fiery red sunsets, wolfish smiles, eyes that are both warm and fierce, hearty laughter, sun-kissed skin, sleeveless shirts, howling wolves, lifting weights at the gym, tribal tattoos, sleek sunglasses, heliotropes, tea with spices, heavy metal music, spiked collars, fingertips stained with ink, hot summer nights, strong and warm hugs, a strong sense of justice, wanting to do what’s right, giving a middle finger to the rules, late night talks, sword-callused hands that touch gently, a spirited warrior, loving with one’s whole heart, snake skulls, a strong and sultry voice, red lanterns, taiyaki, the smell of sandalwood.

Iba— intricate back tattoos, vintage sunglasses, bruised knuckles, oak trees, bottles of sake, a loud izakaya, the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke, matsuri parades, the sound of taiko drums, playing cards, relentless ambition, a pack of wolves, burning the midnight oil, thyme leaves, a bowl of fresh ramen, drinking coffee at the work desk, men's magazines, a low drawling laugh, unwavering loyalty, whiskey on the rocks, an old ceiling fan, the sound of crickets at sunset, skipping stones across the lake, wood carving, polishing glasses, a pragmatic fighter, no-nonsense words, looking out for friends.

Nanao— thin glasses, floral furisode kimonos, a neat updo, tidy stacks of paperwork, elegant handwriting, early to bed and early to rise, a morning bird, the smell of lavender and rosemary, blue hyacinths, speaking in even tones, upholding the rules, firm glares, working in silence, a cup of green tea, romance novels as a guilty pleasure, meticulously keeping a journal, a small vase of flowers, a strict work schedule, simple dresses, a touch of makeup, floral-scented hand cream, a vast collection of classic novels, reading by candlelight, a hall of mirrors, hidden strength, smiles that are rarely seen, humming softly at night, graceful postures.

Shuuhei— motorcycle rides, leather jackets, late nights in the office, old newspapers, sharp scythes, playing rock music through headphones, leather wrist cuffs, messy hair, an old acoustic guitar, black coffee, the smell of mint and sage, friendly smiles, a lone desk lamp, never forgetting acts of kindness, trying to do what's right, drinking with friends, facial scars, strong arms, chin-ups in a door frame, a decadent voice, black chains, basil leaves, pinwheel fireworks, glasses of sake, forgiveness, grieving with friends, hands that are both strong and gentle, moving forward, unwavering resolve, early summer evenings.

Rangiku— long and wavy hair, infectious smiles and laughter, the golden hour shining past the curtains, carrying many shopping bags, red-bottomed high heels, an impeccable sense of fashion, cats, caring hugs, glasses of red wine, eyes that hold a touch of grief, lonely nights curled up in bed, getting lost in memories, purple hyacinths, cherishing mementos, the smell of designer perfume, citrus-scented hand cream, pink nail polish, glittering pink eyeshadow, rosy lip gloss, cocktail dresses adorned with sequins, fruity cocktails, warm bubble baths, silver jewelry, sparklers, dried persimmons, bottles of sake, handmade friendship bracelets, always being the life of the party.

Yachiru— a bowl of sweets, wandering through forests, a pink scooter, the smell of caramel, colouring books, finger painting, playing with sidewalk chalk, getting piggyback rides, catlike smiles, sneaking into hidden places, climbing trees, playful kittens, un-childlike anger, melon soda, konpeito, reading bedtime stories, having a fiercely protective father, eyes that are both innocent yet all-knowing, a plush teddy bear, glow-in-the-dark stars, white carnations, the smell of crayons, childish laughter, playful nicknames, strawberry milk, father-daughter relationships, unwavering faith in loved ones.

Ikkaku— bloodied knuckles, old bandages that need changing, a fiery glint of determination, arm wrestling, red eyeshadow, rough and strong hands, light-footedness, loud laughter, street fighting, bench pressing, an appreciation for beauty, messy handwriting, the smell of sweat and musk, spider lilies, wooden swords, a mug of strong beer, dusty streets, a fighting spirit, sleeping beneath a shaded deck on a blistering summer afternoon, buzzing cicadas, summer thunderstorms, windy days, wiping off blood from one's face, adrenaline rushes, the sound of classic rock music.

Yumichika— peacock feathers, neatly braided hair, glittery nail polish, sleek eyeliner, shimmering blue eyeshadow, a killer fashion sense, jewel-toned suits, rich brocade, the smell of lemon and bergamot, bloodstains on one's hands, silk kimonos, brilliant blue butterflies, elaborate cocktail drinks, soft skin, carefully applying makeup on another's face, manicured nails, eyes that gleam with purpose, purple wisteria flowers, keeping secrets, feathered earrings, orange scarves, secretive smiles, a teasingly lilting voice, airy laughter, soft hair, undying loyalty and friendship.

Nemu— smiles that are rarely seen, a soft-spoken demeanour, lithe and graceful movements, a cup of milk tea, braided hair, daisies, glass beakers, white lab coats, meticulously writing reports, always carrying a first-aid kit, a camera around one's neck, the smell of lilies, yellow sundresses, small high-heels, short skirts, quiet piano music, charm bracelets, a heart-shaped pendant, neat handwriting, surprising strength, always protecting loved ones.

Rukia— crisp winter mornings, dark hair, snowflakes caught in one’s hair, a fresh blanket of snow, white rabbits, a cup of hot ginger tea, the smell of peppermint and vanilla, eagerly watching soap operas on TV, playful smiles, rosy cheeks, yellow jasmines, thick wool scarves, elegant kimonos, a subtle touch of makeup, ice skating, a gracefully melodic voice, holding hands, a fierce and protective love, eyes as violet as the skies at dusk, the light of the full moon, doodling in notebooks, reading shoujo manga, friendship bracelets.

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romanticizedwil · 1 year

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Puppy Love

SUMMARY; Wilbur loves to buy you flowers, jewelry, or any item your heart desires. He adores the style ‘old money’ , always buying you items that were inspired from it.

PAIRING; Wilbur x f!reader

(added the music inspired by it :3)

As usual, you and wilbur went on your daily stroll through the city every night. It was winter, and so the days were colder than usual. The lights of the buildings were quite cool-toned, so nothing too bright to blind anyone. It was the day before Christmas, so wilbur decided that for today instead of your stroll, you’d be receiving a vinyl of a song he chose for the two of you, your favorite flowers, and some jewelry.

The buildings have beautiful items on display, ranging from clothing, to accessories, and shoes.

“Oh my gosh Wilbur look at this!” It was a pair of silver earrings shaped like a bow. They happened to be on sale at an antique shop, the one you always wanted to visit. “Those suit you really well sweetheart.” He grabbed the handle to the door, opening it for you. “Well thank you kind sir!” you giggled as you entered the shop, Wilbur following behind.

The shop had so many items on display, it’s like you’ve fallen in love again. You find the pair of earrings and notice it comes with a matching bracelet and necklace. You didn’t really wear bracelets besides the pandora one Wilbur gifted you on Valentine’s Day. You had enough necklaces from how much Wilbur had gifted you; you had enough to open a necklace shop.

“Is that all you want?” Wilbur asked, eyeing around the other items he’d thought you like. “Hm, yeah.” He took the pair of earrings from your hand and went up to the register. You looked out the window, as it started to snow. Wilbur grabbed your hand from behind and the two of you walked out the shop.

You guys headed home because it was starting to get late, and you were exhausted from walking around. Wilbur got up the stairs, searching for his keys in his pocket. He unlocks the door to the apartment, and you both take off your shoes when you enter. Wilbur starts to lit the fireplace, while you go place your newly bought earrings in the bedroom.

You changed out of your clothes into some warm pajamas, then removing the headband that completed your hairstyle. You walked out the bedroom, and walked down to the living room. Wilbur was making hot chocolate since you didn’t drink coffee. You sat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over you and turning on a show the both of you enjoyed.

Wilbur walks over to you and hands you the mug, then taking his own spot next to you. You shifted closer to him, sharing the blanket between you two. You sipped the hot chocolate, which had a bunch of tiny marshmallows. Placing the mug on the coffee table, you felt even more sleepy after drinking it. You rested your head on Wilbur’s shoulder, drifting off to sleep.

Wilbur had finished his mug, but didn’t want to disturb you by placing the mugs in the sink. He simply just placed it along with yours and carried you to your bedroom. The sheets were comfortable and warm, but you opened your eyes as you heard footsteps fading away. “Wilbur?” you call out. He moves back to glance at you, “Don’t worry love, im right here.” He was putting away your bracelet and earrings, then removed his own jewelry.

You felt the weight on the other side of the bed, moving over to wilbur. Wilbur kept looking at the details of your face, how your eyelashes were a bit long, and how your nose scrunched whenever you got cold. He wraps his arm around you, bringing you into a sweethearts cradle. He moves the wisps of your hair that fell on your face. “I love you.” He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. you were a bit awake, spitting out an ‘I love you too’.

You woke up due to the smell of breakfast, and the pots clattering mostly. You rustled in bed, stretching your legs and arms. You sat on the edge of the bed for a minute or two, trying to wake up completely. Once you did, you changed into something pretty, and did your hair half up and half down. You grabbed a star hair-clip, and your bracelet. You did the bed, fixing the pillows and blanket.

You headed out the room, towards the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and washed your face and hands. It was finally Christmas, the last holiday of the year you’d been waiting for. You cleaned up whatever mess you had on the counter by the sink, then shutting the door to the bathroom. You walked into the kitchen, seeing wilbur happily hum to a song. You went and hugged him from behind, being careful not to burn yourself or him with the hot pan. He smiles and turns around. “Good morning love. Did you sleep well?” He asks, pulling you closer. You rest your head on his chest, “besides hearing you drop the pans a couple times, yes, i slept wonderful.

You let him go and sat on the stool by the counter. “I have a gift for you, it’s right there.” You notice a vase full of your favorite flowers, white roses with some blue ones. They were wrapped neatly, with a lace ribbon. You gasp at the sight of the beautiful flowers. “Wilbur I think I love you even more.” You say, examining the roses. He chuckles, “that’s not all. I have two more gifts.” You smile more, knowing you bought him a ticket to a show he’d been wanting to see for forever, and some other luxury items.

You two finish breakfast , and it’s still dark outside from the snow. Wilbur re-lits the fireplace, and you two sit on the chairs. Wilbur grabbed a box from the table, placing it in your hands. “Go on, open it.”

Inside the neatly wrapped box was another bracelet, but this bracelet was beautiful. It was a light pink with white, gold band, two little charms; one a moon and one a star. Where the charms hung there was one gold bead. You put on the bracelet and hugged wilbur. “Oh my gosh I love it!! Thank you Wilbur I love you!” Dragging out the ‘u’. He hugged you back tightly, feeling his warmth.

When he had opened his gift, he looked at you shocked. “Is this-“ his sentence was cut off by the gasp from his mouth. “Oh my god!” He got up and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Oh my god thank you love. Oh my gosh- you have no idea how much I love you for this.” He hugged you once again but more tightly. You could feel the smile on his face. He let you down so he could give you his last gift.

He picked up a thin squared gift, wrapped in your favorite colour. “I got this vinyl for us, I’d thought you like it since your into oldies stuff.” You guys had a record player by the lamp in the living room, so wilbur gave you the gift to open. You opened it and it was a vinyl from Paul Anka. You adored his songs because they were oldies love songs. You read the title, ‘Puppy Love’

“Wilbur I love Paul Anka, but I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.” You walked over to the record player and put the vinyl on. He walked over and placed you right in front of him, “I bought this one because it reminded me of us.” You waited for the song to play and you fell in love with it. Wilbur loved seeing you smile, and he decided to spin you around. You laughed at his action, dancing with him.

#wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fic #mcyt tag #foolish gamers #fanfic #Spotify #dsmp #dsmp fluff #mcyt fluff #karl jacobs smut #gnf smut #punz smut #sapnap smut

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sizebrained · 3 months

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Unstuck Together: Hazel's Perspective Part 6

The baby oil isn't going to work and Hazel comes up with a plan b

Content Warning: Adult themes and language. Mentions of fear, death, danger, terror, therapy, injury, and first meetings. Some touching of sensitive bits, nudity and body talk.

*** The smell of coconut became overwhelming as the oil rose up around Hazel in the plate. It was getting hard to breathe.

She started holding her breath hoping it was enough time for the oil time to work. She held out as long as she could before she yelled out.

"Stop stop stop! Get me out!" She said hurriedly.

Ben scrambled to grip the now slippery sheet but finally pinched lifted her up and out.

He reached over the counter and pulled out a long roll of paper towels. He slid some under the trap and wadded up some more to pad her dry.

He did it so the paper towel touched her rather than his fingers again.

"You ok?!" he asked bringing his face so close his eyes almost crossed.

Hazel coughed in fits, getting her breath back then feeling herself lose it again as his huge face came so close. "Yes! Good lord! Back up!" She said through some coughs.

She went on, "Damn. I thought that would work but the smell...Did you know it was scented?" Ben froze and grimaced again, he was so flustered he didn't even check he just clicked on the first baby oil that came up on his app. He was really messing this up. "I'm sorry I didn't think to look I was in such a rush..." he offered to her feebly lifting his head away like she had asked. "But not so rushed that you couldn't think of sweets?" Hazel said now truly aggravated by her inability to free herself and this giant boy somehow not helping.

It was a low blow, and she closed her mouth with a click of her teeth at her thoughtlessness. But it was too late. Ben started crying, hiding his face behind his hands. Oh Christ, now I have really gone and done it, Hazel thought to herself watching the enormous figure heave and sob.

She knew it wasn't his fault, this was a lot for her as well. "Benjamin, I am sorry..." She started saying before he interrupted her in a shaky voice. "Not...my...name..." He said, his tears slowing and taking a deep sniffly breath and wiping his eyes with his palms to look at her again. "What? But you said it was Ben I assumed..." Hazel said confused. "Ben is my nickname, my full name is Benedito." He sniffled again calming himself. It was Hazel's turn to be mortified. Getting someone's name wrong like that rubbed her antiquated sensibilities in all the wrong ways.

"Oh...I am so sorry. I did not think...It was an honest mistake, please forgive me." Hazel said up to him hopefully before adding, "You really are doing your best I can see that...you are a hero."

Ben smiled and put his forehead against his palm while he talked, setting his elbow down on the countertop next to her, "Hero is a bit much..." Hazel agreed, but she needed to build him up. She was going to have to get out of this trap another way.

She needed him to be calm and collected. "So you're named after the Italian monk? No wonder you are gentle." She said. "What?" Ben asked confused. "Uh...my parents are from Brazil not Italy..." Hazel rolled her eyes wondering what the state of human education must be like now. "You should know that your name is the Portuguese derivative of Benedict, the Catholic saint and namesake of the order." Hazel explained, letting her mind wander back to when the Professor explained all of this after she asked what he was drinking one evening by the fire. "How do you know that?" Ben asked confused. "I had a very good teacher," Hazel said with a smile.

"Ben, the oil was a good idea. I can feel myself being able to move a little bit more now. You did wonderful." Ben let a little smile turn the corner of his mouth back at her. Maybe he didn't screw this up so badly. "But we are going to have to cut me out of these clothes to finish the job. Do you have a pair of of sharp preferably pointy scissors?" She asked flatly. Ben looked horrified again. "What? Why?" He look at her and trying to push down his rising anxiety. "Some burn victims in the hospital were so bad that their clothes fused into their skin. We had to cut away as much of the fabric as we could to be able to treat the wounds as best we could. I was in that trap for too long and you are going to have to cut me out of these clothes like that, alright?" She explained finishing with a sigh. "And you may also have to give my hair a trim..." she added, pulling up her head to see how much she was going to lose in the process. "Hospital? Like for...little people?" Ben asked very slowly trying to understand what she was saying. Hazel sighed again. *** End of Part 6

#g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #borrowers #g/t fluff

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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 1 year

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“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

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