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livechatjobs788 · 4 months
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Live Chat Jobs - You have to try this one!
Looking for a flexible and rewarding work-from-home opportunity? Look no further than Live Chat Jobs! "Live Chat Jobs - You have to try this one!" isn't just a catchy phrase; it's a genuine recommendation.
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Intrigued? Live Chat Jobs might be the perfect fit for you. Keep reading to explore the exciting world of live chat customer service!
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hancoxinc · 11 months
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Job Offer: Live Chat Assistant
Are you looking for a job that you can do online, from home? Do you have a laptop, tablet, or phone with a reliable internet connection? If so, this live chat assistant job could be for you. We are hiring people from all countries right now for these positions. Full training is provided and we are looking for people who can start work right away. Read here to complete your application if you are interested.
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smartvirtuals · 1 year
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Are you looking for a job that you can do online, from home? Do you have a laptop, tablet, or phone with a reliable internet connection? If so, this live chat assistant job could be for you. We are hiring people from all countries right now for these positions. Full training is provided and we are looking for people who can start work right away. Read here to complete your application if you are interested https://bit.ly/3JKkjOF.
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Earn Money Online Working From Home!!
Earn Extra Cash By Doing Simple Jobs Online With Facebook, Twitter and More If you’re seeking a dynamic career that offers flexibility and the opportunity to enhance customer engagement, online chat jobs may be the perfect fit for you. Are you looking for a flexible and rewarding career path? Look no further than online chat jobs! With the rise of the digital age, companies are seeking…
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01zfan · 4 months
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paint you | l. at
swimmer!anton x art student!reader | 7.6k words
this fic has a little bit of everything good lord…set in uni, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, pining…very much a slice of life i think…i hope everything isn’t too scattered or hectic
contains: semi public sex, no protection (DON’T BE LIKE THEM)
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you didn’t say a word as you watched the movers take all your belongings into your new home. you were like that now, completely silent as your form of rebellion. you had moved far away from everything you knew to come here. your mom was happy, talking about new beginnings and more adventures. you only thought about your going away card and bouquet of flowers you smothered to death on your way here.
you crouched in the driveway, drawing in the dirt with your stick as your mother called to you. you were no longer the sweet child that would come anytime their name was called. you only focused on the dirt and long lines you drew, imagining it was your path back home. you didn’t look up until a shadow was casted over you, and you saw someone foot over the line you drew in the dirt.
you looked up slowly, squinting as you took in the sun above the person looking down at you.
“my mom said i have to come say hi to you.” the boy said quietly.
you looked over to your mom, chatting with a lady while the movers continued to do all the work. you ignored the boy, looking back down at the path back home you etched into the earth.
“you don’t talk?” the boy asked.
you ignored him. you only continued to draw your lines, making your way to his foot. he took a small step backwards, letting you complete your line.
“i don’t like to talk either.” he said.
he crouched beside you silently and grabbed a stick. it was smaller than yours but still did the same. he started drawing shapes in the sand next to your lines and winding circles. you looked to him again, to see that he was focused on playing in the dirt the same way you were. you scooted over in the grass, leaving a space open for the boy to come next to you. he caught on immediately, moving from in front of you to be by your side. you two played in the dirt, pushing around the earth to mold it into shapes and lines. your mother’s got along, not noticing their kids getting their clothes dirty until it was too late. 
“anton!” 
both you and the boy snapped your heads to the voice of anton’s mother. seeing anton respond immediately to his name being called made you do the same. both of you got up from the dirt to walk to your mother’s and both of you were scolded the same, hearing a speech about how expensive clothes were. both of your mother’s were smiling the whole time, seeing their two antisocial and quiet kids get along. 
from then on, it was history. you stuck close to anton, trailing behind him in school, quiet and stealthy like a ghost to everyone but him. anton was understanding, becoming your representative anytime someone threw a glance over his shoulder to eye you, like they were confused if you were real or not. each time he would smile and pull you beside him, introducing you as his bestfriend. 
you and anton remained close. he was with you when you started speaking for yourself, no longer needing him to be your voice. you were with eachother all throughout school, spending more time with him than you did your family. 
the amount of time you spent together through swim and school made him know you better than anyone else. you were by eachothers side through the transition from kids to teens and the growing pains of puberty. you even made it through the trials and tribulations of being friends in highschool, surviving through the countless dating rumors that seemed to arise every week. none of it mattered, anton was there for you and you were there for him. you guys challenged eachothers personal records in swimming and were neck and neck in class. sometimes you were convinced he was the mirror image of you, your platonic soulmate. that’s what comes with the territory of being with someone for nearly twelve hours a day—you end up knowing them better than anyone else.
so it was unfortunate, after all the time you spent together as kids it was college that did you two in. you blamed it on the fact that you and anton both chose different paths in college. he stayed with swimming while you went to the arts. it called to you, the ability to make something with your hands. you never regretted your decision, but you did find yourself thinking about anton often. sometimes your mom would call and ask about him, and you would be forced to pretend like you had actually spoken to him and not just regurgitating rumors you heard on campus. the only truth you told your mom in relation to anton was that you passed by him on the way to class. that’s all you seemed to do, only seeing him in snatches as he walked around campus. 
each time you saw anton, something about him was different. he had somehow grown more, and his dedication to swim contoured his muscles and made him broad. he was visibly bigger than all of his friends, your eyes drawn to him each time he came in your vicinity. each time he waved back to you, the two of you reduced to sharing pleasantries while walking in opposite directions. sometimes it felt like it would’ve hurt less to be completely ignored, but you knew that wasn’t anton’s style. within his friend group he was the social butterfly, once he was able to get past his introverted nature he became the glue of his group, bringing all of them together and planning the gatherings. anton was such a social butterfly to the point that everyone seemed to know him, and before you knew it your friend groups began mingling and overlapping.
you were afraid you were going to regress back to the shy girl you were as a child when anton came to you at a gathering. you had practiced this moment, him approaching you and asked what you were up to now. you had your hobbies written down on your hand and your new interests saved to your phone. you had made a playlist of the songs you liked now and a folder filled with art from your class. you wanted to desperately show anton you had grown up too, that you used your hands to hold a brush instead of slicing through water and you smelled like oil paint now instead of chlorine. 
“how’ve you been?” anton asked.
he held a barely touched drink in his hand and you had a solo cup filled with soda in yours—neither of you were really fans of drinking.
“i’m good.” when anton nodded you looked around the living room of your mutual friend. everyone was mingling, engaged in conversation except for you too. “i read now.” you said abruptly.
anton smiled, tilting his head at your new hobby.
“what have you been reading?” anton asked.
“oedipus rex.” your grip on the red cup almost bent the plastic around your fingers when anton looked you in your eyes. when you held his eyes for too long you instinctually looked down at your feet, focusing on a crack in the floorboard. “it’s for class, but i like it alot.” you said to the floor.
“hey.” anton reached his hand towards you, making you pull your eyes back up to him. his eyes were warm, his smile lines made you smile too. “that’s cool, really.” anton assured you.
you suddenly felt comfortable, the imaginary tension dissipated like the smoke clouds around you two. you put your hands on your hips ironically and shrugged your shoulders.
“you know, it’s nothing.” anton laughed a little at your reaction, copying your little pose. “i read shakespeare during the weekends.” you joke.
“something light?” anton jokes back.
“you get it.” you say.
for the rest of the night, you and anton caught up. you talked about everything that happened between the last time you saw eachother, laughing at funny stories and eyes going wide when something scandalous was said. no time passed at all between the two of you, you went back to your old routine like it was second nature. you talked in every part of the house, sitting on your friends bed while talking about class then standing in the kitchen when you mentioned life at home. you guys stood by the restroom talking about life and next steps, and ended on the couch while the night was winding down.
even though you didn’t have a single thing to drink that night, you felt dizzy staring at anton. he had his arm on the back of the couch, head leaning against his closed fist as he listened to you so intently. you felt yourself forgetting some words, looking to him to fill in what you were forgetting. you saw his smile grow big as you talked his ear off about art—once he got you started you couldn’t stop. you related your major to swimming, how you get in the zone the same way you used to before starting relays. talking with anton about swim made you realize how much you missed it. you missed the camaraderie with your teammates, how it felt like they were the only ones who understood what it was like to be so dedicated to the water. you ended the conversation on a somber note, but anton looked wistfully at his hands as he recalled his own memories.
“i miss being in swim with you, but i’m happy you’re doing what makes you happy.” anton says.
he puts his hand on your knee and you quickly put your hand on top, enjoying that you have an excuse to touch him. his hand is soft like it always was.
“i appreciate it.” you don’t let go of anton’s hand, squeezing it slightly. “you should come to my class sometime. sometimes we get extra credit on assignments if we bring in live models.” you say.
“you want me to slut myself out so you can get an A for the semester?” anton asks.
you scratch the nape of your neck to hide embarrassment. you recover well, looking at anton jokingly.
“isn’t that what friends do?” you ask.
anton throws his head back to laugh. his hand on your leg squeezes your knee, causing you to move too. both of you laugh for a moment, but you can feel your face heating at the thought of anton posing for your class.
“maybe your next solo assignment.” anton looks forward at the party. a couple flirts in front of you guys on the shag rug, holding a joint to the others lips as they breathe it in. “i don’t know if i can do that in front of your whole class.” anton says, looking back to you.
you turn to look at the couple now, face feeling even hotter at the thought of anton posing just for you. you can’t stop your mind racing. suddenly you are inspired, the dynamic poses you see anton in flashes through your mind as you try to speak. you wondered if anton would be able to stay still as long as you needed him to, if he could keep his lips parted the perfect amount for hours on end. the ideas couldn’t stop flowing—you had to slightly shake your head to refocus.
“it wouldn’t be nude. i’ve seen it all before amyways.” you say casually.
when anton laughs shyly you turn back to him. he has a smirk on his lips, and you can feel your hands get restless. you want to paint his lips and his perfect teeth that show when he smirks. you think that if you were to paint it and show it to anton he would understand why you suddenly feel sheepish looking at him.
“first of all, you haven’t seen it all, you’ve seen my top half. second of all, i’m not that flimsy prepubescent kid anymore. i’m a man.” anton says, posing to show off his muscles.
you have to nod and smile to act like nothing is a big deal. you reach forward and poke his flexed arms for comedic effect. before you can say anything, the host of the party tells everyone it’s time to leave. the lights cut on and anton’s blushing face is revealed to you. when your eyes go wide he draws his hand away from your leg, hiding it behind a stretch.
“before i pose for you though, i’d like to actually see you again.” anton gets up from the couch, and holds out his hand to help you up. you grab it and stand right in front of him, looking at his broad chest. anton’s hands to to your shoulders, and you look up to him. “not just by chance at a gathering but like actually planning something out.” he says.
you nod your head. you find your hands to be restless again, the only way to get them to be still is to stuff them into the small pockets of your jeans.
“you have my number.” you say back.
“anton, let’s go.” you look and see anton’s friends beckon to him from the entryway. 
“were you drinking? you’re our DD.” another friend said.
“it’s literally kombucha.” anton shakes his head, and you can see the nonalcoholic text on the label. he faces you as he walks backwards to his friends, pulling out his phone. “i’ll text you.” he says.
anton turned back to his friends before you could say okay. when you walk out with your friends a few minutes later you felt the buzzing in your back pocket, and you open your screen to read the message.
let’s hang out tomorrow
this is anton btw
ever since that night, you started seeing anton everyday. whether it was a quick stop to eachothers dorms in between classes or eating together you were with him everyday. in a weeks time anton gave you the spare key to his dorm, emphasizing that you could crash there whenever you’d like. you had no sense of self preservation and neither did anton—both of you went all in, spending so much time together you started getting the urge to swim again. 
although you spent time together like when you were in highschool, there was a different feeling to it. there was a line you two silently set in the dirt when you got to highschool. you two came to the agreement then that friends didn’t hold hands, they sat on opposite sides of the couch, and had crushes on other people. it was upsetting, both of you mourned the loss of innocence and degree of closeness brought by skinship. but you guys were becoming adults, it was time to draw a line in the dirt the same way you did when you were children. sometimes you thought about the line, how it might’ve been the thing that drove you two apart. you two were on opposite sides, heading off in different directions. 
but time is a flat circle and you two went around the world to meet at the same line. this time, it was the division in his couch, the line down the middle that separated the two cushions the both of you sat on. a romantic movie played on the television in anton’s dorm, one about two people finding their way back to eachother. you scooted closer to the division in the couch and anton did too, still watching at the movie. 
that’s how it was at first, you two getting so close to the line until your thighs touched, but nothing more. you felt the cold sweats all over you body and heat across your cheeks and neck as your mind wandered to all the possibilities. his hand went to your knee first, the same way it did at the gathering. everything was different, the implication of being alone and him touching you made goosebumps spread across your skin. heat came from anton in waves, and you could smell chlorine and his body wash when he settled deeper into the couch, moving his body slightly towards you.
“i really like this movie.” anton said.
you nodded your head, feeling anton squeeze your knee. you tried mimicking him, relaxing further into the couch until you could lean against his body. when your head rested on his shoulder he visibly relaxed, lowering his body more to give you more space. his hand moved from your knee to your thigh, squeezing and rubbing what he could reach. you felt hot all over, trying not to read too much into how anton was holding you. 
anton was the one that crossed the line first. he stepped over the line in the dirt when he picked up your legs and moved them over his, coming completely into your space. a tiny sound left your mouth, you were excited, feeling static electricity across your body and inside your mind. you could only put your hands over anton’s as you got used to his touch. 
nothing happened that night, nothing seemed to happen when you guys would spend time together. it was grueling and agonizingly slow how you two were working up to being in eachothers space again. anton would hold you in the privacy of his room timidly, touches light as a feather like he was worried you’d flinch away. you were worried you were enjoying it too much, the way he’d look at you sweetly and hesitate when bringing the back of your hand to his lips. anton grabbed your hand while walking you back to your building, fingers lacing with yours casually as he talked about his schedule for tomorrow. the both of you could only speak absentmindedly and nod, too focused on how your hands fit together like puzzle pieces. 
even though you didn’t spend as much time with anton as you did when you were in swim, he still took up an unhealthy amount of your mind. the slow and delicate pace you two moved at burned across your skin, leaving your brain frayed at the edges. it was the worst when you were painting. you’d be focused on an object in front of you for a study and your mind would drift to anton. your fingers and your strokes would turn into half assed portraits of the boy you were getting close to again. it became an obsession, you were hiding your unfinished work of anton in the studio space, scared he’d find it if you put it in your room. 
just when it got to be too much, it was like the art gods were smiling down on you. your class got assignments to do a human anatomy study. you wrote down your name to rent the studio space to accommodate anton’s schedule that you now had memorized. when leaving class you texted anton, telling him about your upcoming project.
are you going to draw me like one of your french girls?
i’ll try my best.
you didn’t even have to ask anton to be your model. he agreed on the spot, only asking for the time, place, and how many clothes he needed to bring. he showed up to the studio shortly after his class, wearing a matching gray sweatsuit. anton had a duffle slung over his shoulder, and he held on tightly to the strap as he navigated his way around the studio space. he was unbelivably careful, almost tiptoeing around the half done sculptures that littered the floor. droplets from anton’s hair fell on the ground as he walked—he came straight from swim practice, not wasting the time to go back home.
you both hesitated before going in for a hug, making it an awkward embrace. you both knew the implications, and the tension made hairs on the back of your neck raise. anton patted your back twice, pulling away and asking about your day. his voice was sweet and nonchalant, but the blush appearing across anton’s cheeks told you he was nervous. you were the same, refusing to make eye contact as you stared at the zipper on anton’s tracksuit.
his hands rested at his sides when you were done exchanging pleasantries, trying to figure out what was next. you cleared your throat and motioned towards the block in the center of the studio surrounded by a circle of easels.
“just pose there however you’d like.” you pointed to the sheet neatly folded on top of the block. “there’s a sheet to cover yourself up with.” you said.
you walked past the block, weaving through a row of easels until you made it to yours. you focused on your name carved into the wood as anton rolled his shoulders to try and relieve tension. he slid his duffle down his arm first, and you had to stare at the blank canvas in front of you to stop yourself from stealing glances at anton’s body. his curly hair peaked out above the canvas, moving slightly as he got undressed. you focused on the curls when you hear anton but when you heard anton unzip his jacket you went to playing with the charcoal utensils. you had to duck your head when you heard anton’s jacket fall to the ground and him messing with the drawstring on his pants. you count the little paint splotches on the ground over and over again when you see the gray sweats pool at anton’s feet. you watch his feet as he steps out and makes his way towards the block. you hear him bump into an easel, how slow his steps are. you almost pinch your skin when you hear the fabric of the sheet move, hoping that the self inflicted pain will give you something else to focus on.
you refuse to look up until you hear anton’s voice in front of you.
“can you help me?” anton asks.
you realize it was a mistake inviting anton when you finally get the courage to look past the easel and at him. instantly you are bothered, watching anton sit on the block while looking at you hopelessly. anton’s stares right through you as you slowly walk over towards him, causing your palms to feel sweaty. you wipe them on your jeans a million times before you stand in front of anton. from up here you can see overheard lights in the studio reflect in his large brown eyes as he looks up to you.
you make minor adjustments to the sheet that wraps around anton’s body, trying not to focus on his smooth skin that’s exposed or the peak of toned muscle you see. you make the mistake of looking at anton’s abdomen as you move his legs to a more comfortable position. his stomach is chiseled, intense workouts carved anton’s body out of stone. no matter where you touch him he is so soft and so solid underneath your fingertips. you focus on anton’s shoulder, but you can feel him staring directly at your face. you move a piece of hair from anton’s face and travel down. you look at his nose before you can look at him in the eyes.
“looks good now.” you say.
before you can turn away anton’s hands go to your waist. he keeps them there, fingers splayed out but he applies no pressure. 
“what looks good?” anton asks.
you shrug quickly, trying not to shiver underneath anton’s look. he presses his fingers into your hips a little harder, and his thumb messes with the bottom of your shirt before slipping under. your hands go to his shoulders as he pulls you closer.
anton’s expression is almost pained when he leans his head back, blinking quickly before he opens them fully. his brown eyes almost look glossy when he focuses back on you. you see your reflection in anton’s eyes he pulls you in a little closer. your hands creep from anton’s shoulders to the nape of his neck. you let one of your hands splay across the back of anton’s neck, rubbing the pads of your fingers against his scalp. he leans his head into your hand with a sigh and a smile on his face. he brings your other hand that rests on his shoulder to his lips, looking directly at you when he kisses your hand.
he doesn’t stop at your knuckles. he works his way up slowly, moving his hand to graze over each kiss. you let him kiss you gently, and you let him pull you down until you’re face to face with him. anton stops at your tricep, his shaking hands still pressed to his trail of kisses.
“anton.” you say.
you close your eyes and lean in when anton looks back at you. for a moment you’re floating in space, heading towards the unknown. the thought of rejection flashes across your mind before you feel anton’s reciprocating, soft and gentle against your lips. 
you press into him gently, your hand fully goes into his curly head of hair to finger the ends and twirl them around your finger. anton’s hands hold your arms first, gripping them slightly as he brings you in place. when it’s not enough anton slides off the block he was sitting on, the thin sheet that was covering his naked body falls with him. more of anton is exposed to you but you don’t shy away, you place your hands on his skin and press into his solid frame. anton pulls you down to the ground with him, not breaking the kiss as you become more desperate. you two almost bump into the easels surrounding you, but neither of you can be bothered.
you cross the line of his lips to push your tongue into his mouth, and anton tilts his head so he can do the same. you guys find a rhythm, lips languidly moving in sync while your tongues press against eachother. 
“i rented out this space for the next hour.” even when anton pulls away from you while you keep a hand locked in his curly hair. “just us.” you say breathlessly.
anton hums and nods his head, pulling you closer by a hand wrapped around your waist. your back bows against his hold, giving anton space to drag his hands up your sides to grip your clothed chest. your shirt creases underneath anton’s hand, and you whimper when he presses his plush lips to your exposed collarbone.
“just us?” anton asks against your skin.
you nod your head vigorously when anton looks up at you from your chest, and you straighten your posture to try and bring your body closer to his. anton smiles, the creases in his eyes almost covered by the curls that cascade down the frame of his face. he presses his forehead to yours and the two of you look down between your two bodies. anton focuses on you two fitting together like puzzle pieces while you focus on his dick resting against his stomach. his tip is red and angry, the beading pre-cum making a patch of anton’s abdomen sticky.
anton pulls you onto his bare lap, his dick resting heavy against his stomach. his hands map your body, so desperate and unaware of his own strength that he overstretches the fabric of your shirt and causes you to move at his will. his hands mess with your jeans, pulling you closer by your belt loops. he rearranges himself on the sheet he used to cover himself as the charcoal staining your hands rubs off on his chest.
both of you are still, letting the weight of the situation sink in. your hand pressed against anton’s chest while the other grips his shoulder for stability. his hand on your chest, and the other on the small of your back as he splays his hand across the expanse. you look at your charcoal stained hand resting on anton’s chest. his heart thuds against your palm, mirroring the hammering in your own ribcage. your quickened heart rates effects everything, the way your breathing has turned into short huffs, the way your eyes flicker across anton’s face. the only thing that remains slow and steady is your hand as you drag it down anton’s chest. you make it past his heart, keeping eye contact as you trail down his stomach. when anton’s eyes close you let your hand finally wrap around his length, twitching and hard in your hand. 
anton sighs in relief, taking one hand off of you to prop himself up as he leans back. the other hand on your body doesn’t calm down. even with his eyes closed anton finds the bottom of your shirt, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when you start pumping his dick. anton’s grabs at any part of your body he can get a viable grip on. he kneads the flesh on your stomach before reaching up and holding your chest over your bra.
when he opens his eyes again anton brings his other hand to you to lift your shirt over your head. you’re forced to take your hand off his dick to discard your shirt, but when it’s thrown somewhere in the studio you go right back to him. you don’t pay the sound of and easel moving or the sound of paintbrushes clattering any mind—you’re focused on something else. 
anton pauses only for a second, placing a kiss on your chest before he grabs a handful of you again. you go back to him, grabbing his dick in your hands. the slow pace you were going at previously was abandoned, you have waited too long to tease. the angle is awkward, almost uncomfortable—but the way anton’s eyes close and his mouth slightly opens in ecstasy drives your hand to go faster. anton’s precum makes your hand glide easily. the wet sound of you jerking anton off is subtle and quiet, almost as quiet as the whimpers that slip from anton’s mouth. you open your mouth too, mirroring the way anton whimpers pitifully when you tighten your hand around him.
anton lifts his hips and lifts you too, bringing both of you off the ground momentarily so he can fuck your hand. you look down at anton, how his body flexes to fuck himself and how his face is contorted in pure pleasure. you use your free hand to run over anton’s stomach, admiring the chiseled beauty in front of you. you can feel his abs ripple underneath his taut skin as you press your hand deeper into him.
“you look like a painting.” you murmur. 
when you start pulsing your fist around his twitching dick anton puts his hand over yours. he brings you both back to the present.
“i won’t last long.” he says sheepishly.
you can see anton’s face already becoming flushed, the blush adorning his face in splotches. anton pulls your hand away from his dick, placing your wet hand on his chest instead. you both start feeling eachother again, letting your hands feel everything in the calm of heavy breathing and occasional sighs. anton brings you in close, nudging your ear with his nose as he lets out a shaky breath.
“how do you want it?” he whispers into your ear.
“we have to be quick.” you say just as quiet.
anton nods, sliding you off his lap onto the sheet. he moves his body fast, resting on his haunches as he works the button of your jeans. the fact that you two are running low on time looms over your heads, and the thrill of getting caught makes you two desperate. anton’s dick is rigid in the air, twitching upwards when he imagines someone walking in on the two of you. 
you work your bra off your body, unclasping it quickly as anton pulls your pants down your legs. when he gets the denim down to your mid thigh he stops to abruptly lean over and kiss your exposed chest. it’s quick, a small peck right on your erect nipple. you wish you had more time with anton in this cramped studio, so you could whimper and while asking him to do it again. but you didn’t have time, and you were getting uncomfortable in your panties so you let anton pull your pants off the rest of the way.
anton pulls you in for a kiss, moving to stand on his knees and you do the same. he brings you in by an arm wrapped behind your back. you put your hands on his broad chest, letting his teeth clash against yours before pulling away.
“we have to be quick.” anton says.
he warns the two of you, but he still takes his time looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. being quick is lost on him as he caresses your cheek. he almost asks you how you’ve been before you pull away from him, turning around to get on your hands and knees.
“we have to be quick.” you echo.
anton laughs, looking at the position you got into so quickly. he doesn’t have anymore time to waste, he’s been doing that for the past fifteen years. so anton slots himself between your legs, letting his hard dick rest against your ass as he gets comfortable.
”i don’t have any condoms.” anton says. 
he looks at your dick rest against your ass, twitching each time you move.
“i’m on birth control.” you wiggle your hips, scooting backwards to get closer to anton. “i’m not seeing anyone.” you add.
“me neither.” anton says immediately.
you nod, moving your hand back to grab anton’s dick. he guides himself into your hand, and shuffles forward until his tip prods your entrance. he can see a translucent pearl of precum mix with your slick. anton grabs his dick where you held it previously, running his tip up and down your folds. he sees you sigh and shiver, pressing your hands flat to the ground to mentally prepare yourself.
“the door is locked right?” anton asks.
both of you look towards the small classroom door. it’s halfway across the room, but you can vividly remember turning the metal bolt. it was ironic how much you hated distractions in the studio but here you were on your hands and knees, the most distracted you’ve ever been in your entire life.
“it’s locked and no one comes here during the weekends.” you let out a sigh when you feel anton come closer to you. “it’s like if we were in the locker rooms on a saturday night.” you say.
anton visibly relaxes behind you, finding comfort in the fact that you remembered saturday night competitions. everyone cleared out of immediately when the swim meets were over, everyone desperately trying to enjoy the start of their weekend. by the time the meets were done there wasn’t a soul around, not even the cleaning staff. so it was truly just you and anton here, completely engrossed in eachother. he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder blades before moving a hand to your ass. he spreads you out, wanting a clear view of you spread out. anton sighs, wishing he had the time to press gentle kisses to your bottom half. anton tells himself silently that you have no idea how well he’d eat you out, how he’d take his time and not stop until you begged him to. but time was of the essence and anton was getting impatient—he rubbed a hand down your back while he lined himself up.
“are you ready?” anton asks sweetly. 
you nod against the sheet underneath you. anton looks past your ass to smile at you. you’re so pretty with your lips pouted in anticipation anad your cheeks smushed from pressing into the sheet.
“yes.” you answer.
anton nods, and stays in the same position so he can see your face when he slides in. your eyes close instantly and your lips part, anton does the same as he watches you. he’s bewitched, locked in on how he’s making you feel. you suck him in more and more, and when anton bottom’s out he sees you bite down on your finger to stop yourself from moaning. he pulls all the way out before sliding back in, just as slow.
anton looks around at the easels surrounding your bodies, and the platform anton was posing on not even five minutes ago. he almost feels bad, he feels like he’s tainted the space you’ve created for yourself. he remembers when you used to be so shy you couldn’t look at someone in the eye, but now you gave presentations to seasoned artists about something as personal as art. he was proud of you, he thinks he loves you as he looks around and sees the art you’re working on. anton swears he sees a drawing pinned to the wall, an unfinished bust where the curls and side profile is unmistakable. anton looks down at your face, where you have tears prickling your vision and your teeth dig into your bottom lip. 
when anton notices you staring at him he sees your hand reach back for him. anton sees your other hand gripping the sheets, and how you slide forward each time his hips kiss yours. before he knows it anton reaches forward to grab both of your arms, causing your knees to move forward as you sit on the back of your legs.
when anton grabs your arms at your sides, he pulls you back to him. you grab onto his biceps, the only stability you have in your position. you can hear anton grunt as he thrusts forward, using his hold on your body to bring you back. each time he thrusts his hips forward he exerts his strength, nearly knocking the breath out of you each time. 
the sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room, and you can hear paintbrushes on the easels shake. your teeth digging into your bottom lip is the only thing stopping you from crying out anton’s name.
anton looks up from where he fucks you for behind, focusing on your nails that dig into his arm. he hisses from the pain, already feeling sensitive all over his body.
“feels good?” anton asks.
his voice is still sweet and airy as he talks to you. and you let a moan slip from your lips to let him know, and he sighs in response. the two of you can barely form sentences, becoming twitching messes as anton continues fucking you from behind. all communication turns to high-pitched whines and tightening grips from your hands. eventually it’s not enough, you let go of anton’s biceps to clench your fists to relieve the tension. he pulls your body back each time he thrusts forward, causing your body to jolt and the easels around you shake. you hear paintbrushes clatter against the linoleum floors far off in your mind, it barely registers when anton moans about how good you feel.
anton lets go of your hands and you plant them on the sheet. you can feel him behind you, his hand pressing into your stomach as he brings his sweaty chest to your back. anton continues to fuck you, a handful of your stomach in anton’s hands helps him drive your body backwards to meet his hips. 
anton lets a whimper slip from his lips as he presses his cheek into your shoulder blades. his thrusts turns to ruts, and his free hand starts gripping your ass. you start acting on your own needs, purposely clamping your walls around anton’s dick so you can feel every inch of him inside of you. you start pathetically pushing your hips backwards, trying to do some of the work.
anton brings his face forward, hitting deep inside of you as his body superimposes over yours. you can feel puffs of hot air fan your ear as anton presses his face into the side of yours.
“you feel so good.” anton whimpers into your sticky skin.
“your dick is perfect.” you whine.
“you’re so perfect.” anton moans when you clamp around him again. “you have no idea.” he says.
you can feel anton’s smile against the shell of your ear as he continues to desperately rut into you. his smile falls when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. you can hear the moans he tried to silence, how they recklessly slip past his lips. he’s loud, unmistakably loud. you think about the rare chance there’s someone on the other side, pressing their ear to the door as they try to make out the sounds they hear over the music.
anton realizes he’s being too loud, he moves his mouth to the crook of your neck so your skin can muffle his sounds. you can feel the vibration of anton’s voice against your neck, and his teeth pressing into your clammy skin to calm himself. hearing anton causes you to spasm around him more. you’re slowly losing control of your body, the same way you lose control when painting. you let the feeling wash over the same way your ideas do, following the strokes of your brush and the sound of anton’s whimpers becoming more desperate. his hand goes from your ass to your chest, kneading your breasts roughly as he pants into your neck. 
“i’m close.” you whisper.
you say it only for anton and for yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. you see anton pass by your eyes in a blur, all the times he’s looked like a painting you wanted to keep locked away in your sketchbook. the fleeting touches and palpitations in your heart seared to the back of your eyelids. just before the coil in your stomach snaps, anton pulls away from your body. 
“i need to see you.” anton says earnestly.
you’re on your back in seconds, laying on the white sheets anton used to cover himself. you can’t look away from anton’s wet eyes or his mussed curly hair. his chest is pressed up against yours in an instant when he pulls your legs to bring you closer to his hips. he kisses your forehead quickly, slowing down before kissing your lips then each cheek. you wish you could’ve kissed him back, but your brain was still foggy from being on the brink of an orgasm. only one thing is on your mind as you look at anton with big teary eyes.
“put it back in.” you nearly cry. “please.”
anton grabs his length, gliding it down your folds until he finds your hole. he doesn’t waste time sliding in, fully pushing inside of you. anton has to go to the crook of your neck to moan out his frustrations, feeling his hot pants bounce off your skin.
“i love you.” 
anton says it into the sweaty skin of your neck. if he had any self control he would’ve saved it for a better time, like a romantic dinner date or a trip back to your hometown. but anton can’t help it, he’s driven by needing you as close to him as possible. he tells himself he’ll confess to you properly again, when you both have time.
before you can tell anton you feel the same way, the words are taken from your throat as picks a brutal pace. you can only nod your head and pull your legs closer to your chest to help him hit deeper. you can feel anton everywhere, and you can see his curls bounce above your head as the ends become heavy from sweat. you can only pout, feeling your own eyes become teary from all the emotions.
“anton.” you whimper his name pitifully. anton puts one of your legs over his shoulder to free your hand so he can hold it.
“i know.” anton coos. he moans at the new angle and squeezes your hand tighter. “i know.”
when anton presses his lips to yours, you walls spasm around his dick again. this time anton doesn’t stop, driving his hips into yours while his name falls from your lips a million times. anton uses it as motivation, using the last bit of self control he has left to fuck you through your orgasm. when your legs become weak and anton’s name turns into incoherent babbles, he goes back into your neck.
“where can i?” he huffs.
you let your hands press into his shoulder blades, bringing his sweaty chest to yours.
“anywhere” you clench around anton, feeling yourself getting week. “don’t make a mess.” you mumble.
“fuck.” 
anton can’t hold on any longer, especially when your lips attach to his neck sucking harshly. he twitches inside of you and he goes as deep as he can one more time before stilling inside of you. your back arches from the ground when you feel him cum inside of you, hot and sticky in spurts. each time anton twitches inside of you his whole body shudders, and he lets out a sigh you think he’s been holding in for years. his grip of your hand never loosened, still white-knuckled as he presses your hand into the sheet. you let your leg wrap around anton to keep his waist in place and it’s your turn to coo at him now.
you two stay like that, sweaty chests heaving as anton stays inside of you. neither of you want to pull away, and you feel a pang in your chest when you can feel anton’s cum seep out of you. he pulls out, whole body shuddering as he slides out of you. 
anton taps your bent knee affectionately, and you nod your head as you try to breathe normally again. anton looks around the studio before pushing off your knee.
you see him meander around the studio for a second before wlaking to the paint stained sink. anton turns on the water and washes his hands before pulling out more paper towels than necessary.
he comes back to your body on the floor, wiping away the cum that seeped out of you and drying your sweaty face with another paper towel. you can only smile as anton cleans you up, and when he’s done he grabs your face in both of his hands and presses a fat kiss to your lips. both of you smile when he pulls away, and you run your hand through his curly hair.
“how much time do you have left?” anton asks.
1K notes · View notes
uyuforu · 2 months
Note
Hi, Uyu. You've made a post about the Groom Persona Chart and the personality of the future spouse in relation to the persona chart. May I ask if you could make one for the Briede Persona Chart explaining how you would be as a wife? Thank you hehe
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Briede/ Groom Persona Chart for yourself
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Hi everyone! Hope you are doing good! Here is a post I have been preparing for a while. I thought it wasn't talk about much. Groom and Briede PC are often seen as PC for spouses but in other cases it also represents you. For example, you are a woman and interested in men, Groom PC will represent your spouse but Briede PC will represent you as a spouse! Someone also asked me about it and I thought it would be a good opportunity to make a post about the subject ^^ This post was inspired by my Bride PC but also married people and friends, and some celebrities too ^^ Both Groom and Briede PC were studied for seeing more type of cases! Hoping you will enjoy :)
All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Union PC Observations I
જ⁀➴ Juno, Groom, Briede in Signs, Houses, Degrees
જ⁀➴ How to know where your Future Spouse was born?
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JULY BOOKING OPEN
email adress: [email protected]
Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews
astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings
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༊·° If you are a woman, check Briede PC to see what kind of wife you'll be. If you are a man, check Groom PC!
༊·° Sun 7H can mean you are a spouse who take care of themselves, who want to appear good looking, or even without trying this is how you'll look.
༊·° Juno 7H means you'll be very much in love with your spouse!
༊·° Sun conjunct Juno means you'll be considered a very lovely and very beautiful spouse.
༊·° Cancer Rising means you'll look like a trad spouse. You could look like the "perfect cliché" of a spouse.
༊·° Mercury 7H means you'll be very romantic, you can often call your spouse to know how they are doing, you can also be quite lovely about how you speak about your spouse.
༊·° 10H Ruler in 8H means you'll be very focused on your career still and you could work a lot still after marriage. You will not stop working and your job will be one of your true dedication.
༊·° Venus 6H can mean you'll love to get a routine in your marriage, and you could work well with it. You could also get involved in everyday romance, meaning you'll show romantic gestures through everyday life and simple things.
༊·° Pluto 6H means your routine will deeply changed and be transformed to the core because of your marriage.
༊·° Chiron Sagittarius can mean your marriage can bring you to unknown places (physically or mentally). There can also be some pain because of being away.
༊·° Chiron 6H can mean routine you have as a spouse can be very tiring for you mentally. You can do a lot more than you used to do, you'll be so busy you could have hard times relaxing from times to times.
༊·° 5H will be about children in your Briede/ Groom PC. Considering the sign, what is in the 5H, etc. it will say a lot if you will have children and your relationship with them.
༊·° Libra 5H means you can have children, and you can be pretty close with your children, and you could love to buy them some gifts, and you could love to shop with them, but also love to chat and gives them advices about their life.
༊·° If 5H Ruler is in 6H, this means you'll daily spend time with your children, being a parent will part of your routine. This can also mean helping children with homework, their education, driving them there, etc.
༊·° 4H will be more about your home and family in general, as a spouse.
༊·° 4H Virgo means you'll have a very clean and steady house, you'll try to make it stay very clean, very well presented, etc. You could have a specific routine with your family, and you could work hard to make your family successful.
༊·° 4H Ruler in 7H means your home will be very beautiful and can follow a certain aesthetic. It can also mean you'll have a home that is well decorated.
༊·° If 4H Ruler is Sun or conjunct Sun/ Groom/ Briede, this can mean you'll be the main in charge for your house and what is happening in your family.
༊·° Cancer 2H means you'll be a wonderful cook and cook very often at home!
༊·° Sun Capricorn can mean you are the type of spouse that can decide for most of things in the house, you take the lead are are very serious when it comes to family business.
༊·° Sun/ Briede/ Groom 9H means you can be an open-minded spouse, but it can also mean you can travel often during marriage.
༊·° 11H in 9H means you can travel often to see your friends.
༊·° Jupiter 11H can mean you'll make a lot of new friends because of marriage.
༊·° Saturn 11H can mean you won't see your friends so often!
༊·° 7H Ruler in 11H can mean you'll take your spouse as your best friend during marriage, and this can indicate strong partnership.
༊·° Virgo Rising means you'll appear as a practical and perfectionist spouse, you could also look like a cold spouse, and not so romantic.
༊·° Sun 11H means you'll be the kind of spouse that is friendly, fun, outgoing, and loves to learn. You can be considered a unique spouse too.
༊·° Pluto 2H can mean your money will change a lot after marriage, and you could get more money.
༊·° Stellium 2H + Juno being there means spouse can bring a lot of money into your life.
༊·° 9H Ruler in 12H means you'll travel with spouse but only in foreign places, and can be only for vacation. If 4H Ruler is also the same one, you could also travel to see family.
༊·° Pluto 9H means you can move abroad to live with your spouse. You can totally change your location and live in a new culture for your spouse.
༊·° MC Ruler in 7H mans your marriage can bring you a lot of contracts and opportunities.
༊·° Stellium 1H means you can have a big glow up physically but it can also means you'll be considered a very beautiful spouse.
༊·° 5H Cancer is a big sign of having children.
༊·° 4H Gemini can mean having more than one house!
༊·° Saturn 5H can mean you'll have children later or you'll have some hardships with pregnancy.
༊·° Venus 2H means you can be the type of spouse who loves to shop and who loves to own things. You can buy many presents for everyone.
༊·° 4H Stellium means your family life and home will matter the most for you! You could also choose to focus on your family and prefer to be a stay at home parent.
༊·° MC Cancer can also be a sign of being a stay at home parent.
༊·° DSC Ruler in 4H means your spouse will be very involved with your family too.
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༊·° 10H Ruler in 9H means you can travel for working. If Ruler is Moon, you'll need to come back home for that.
༊·° 2H Ruler in 2H means gaining way more money after marriage!
༊·° 11H Ruler in 4H means your friends can often visit you at your home or often visit your family.
༊·° Saturn 6H means there will be hardships in your routine with your spouse.
My uncle has this placement in his Groom PC, and he has hardships with his routine with his wife since she is a flight attendant, and he was doing most of the things at home.
༊·° Sagittarius DSC can mean your spouse can travel often.
༊·° 10H Ruler in 7H can mean your spouse can also be very focused on work.
༊·° Stellium 5H means you can have a lot of children through your life.
༊·° 10H Stellium means you'll be very focused on work, and your career will matter very much to you.
༊·° If you don't want children, a 5H stellium can mean you'll be very creative as a spouse.
༊·° Pretty much all Black Pink members have indicators of being stay-at-home wives in their Briede PC ;-; That 4H Stellium don't lie.
༊·° Aries 4H can mean you'll not be home often, and you can actually often be out or doing something else.
༊·° My brother has 4H Aries and a stellium in his 10H, which means he can often be out of his house for work.
༊·° My sister has 4H Aries and Jupiter in 9H, she can travel very often, and her MC Ruler is in her 5H, so she can travel for work too but related to art (she is studying Movie making).
༊·° Chiron 2H can mean having some difficulties with money at some point.
༊·° Stellium in 12H can mean you can be a secretive spouse, and will not want other people to know what kind of spouse you are. You'll show a different version of what you truly are.
༊·° Having 29° in your PC means you can be famous as a spouse
Examples: Selena Gomez, Taylor Swift.
༊·° Chiron 4H means your home life will be hurt, you can be the cause of it or something else can be.
༊·° 7H Ruler conjunct Chiron can indicate a divorce at some point.
༊·° Juno 9H means your spouse can be away often.
༊·° Stellium 7H can mean being very dedicated to your spouse.
༊·° Uranus 5H can mean unexpected pregnancy.
༊·° Chiron 10H can either mean not liking your job or can mean working because you don't have a choice.
༊·° Part of Fortune 5H is a sign of feeling blessed with children.
༊·° 5H Ruler in 11H can mean your children will think of you more as a friend than a parent, you can be very close to your children.
༊·° Sometimes, Cancer MC means working from home but doesn't mean being a stay at some spouse.
༊·° Cancer MC + Moon being in 11H can mean working from home and working with social medias or internet.
༊·° 5H Ruler in 4H is another sign of having children.
༊·° 10H Ruler in 3H can mean you can talk a lot about your job or career, but it can also mean people talk a lot about you related to your career.
༊·° 3H Ruler in 7H means people can talk a lot about you as a spouse, or people can talk a lot about your spouse too.
༊·° Mercury 7H can actually mean you'll talk a lot about your spouse!
༊·° 5H Ruler in 7H means your spouse could want children!
༊·° Groom/ Briede 5H can mean the same thing too (if they represent your spouse and not you).
༊·° Part of Fortune 12H can be a sign of not divorcing.
༊·° 1H Ruler in 6H can mean being seen as always busy, someone who always got something going on.
༊·° Saturn 7H can mean you'll have hardships with your spouse through marriage.
༊·° 1H Ruler in 9H can mean being seen as someone who is never with their spouse, someone who is always away and someone who is not so serious in their marriage.
༊·° 1H Ruler in 10H can mean being seen as someone who work very hard, someone who's priority is their career.
༊·° A lot of people who got divorced had their 1H Ruler in 12H.
༊·° 1H Ruler 4H can mean being a great parent and being seen as such.
༊·° 5H Ruler in 10H can also mean being very serious about your children's education.
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Thank you for reading!
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moonastro · 3 months
Text
groom persona chart
mercury in the house
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what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.
mercury represents and embodies ones ability to communicate, express themselves and knowledge. in the GPC it can determine how the husband will communicate with you and how he may express himself with words and knowledge.
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reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.
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mercury in 1st house: the fs may speak their mind and tend to talk about themselves often even if other people dont realise it. can come across as blunt, rough and passionate when expressing themselves. can have dominant facial expressions when talking and therefore it is easy to distinguish what they are feeling or thinking because their face can really tell a picture. fs can communicate with full leader mode meaning that they may like to lead or start conversations with people. they surely know what to say and speak with confidence even if what they are saying may not be entirely true.
mercury in 2nd house: fs may come across as sensual, slow and steady with their words. can have a very aesthetically pleasing tone of voice and the style of their voice can be beautiful. this is a placement where the fs has all ears on him. can hum and whistle quite often to express themselves. usually fs can like to refer back to memories they had in the past and talk about the littlest details about it. fs communicates well in comfort places such as the home or their favourite hang out area or just somewhere that brings them peace and security.
mercury in 3rd house: the way that the fs can communicate is quite easy going and childish like. this doesn't mean anything bad but just means that when they are comfortable around you they will show their laid back personality. can aften joke around with their words and not be serious, can joke around a lot either with their actions or with their words. can be the person to speak their mind and be quite upfront with their words. may tend to speak quicker and just love chatting away with other people. fs can also communicate while changing subjects often which can be confusing at times i reckon. as the saying goes that the mind works faster than their mouth so they may be like ten conversations ahead in their head than what you may be talking about.
mercury in 4th house: often the fs can really deeply be affected by words of other people or the other way around, their words can affect others. fs can talk in a nurturing, caring and attentive form. usually their words can move others and develop trust quickly. fs can keep in contact with their relatives often and may have an attachment to his family and can be in good terms with them. fs can communicate by resonating your experiences with theirs in order for you to not feel bad or upset. they like to take things very seriously and personally so they can tend to also not lie as much. they see emotions as something serious so if you tend to joke about your feelings they may get very concerned.
mercury in 5th house: the entire vocab of your fs can be full of fun and enlighten energy, they have a way of boosting other peoples moods with their words. can tend to have luck with expressing themselves and will most likely attract attention and receive help when feeling off. fs can help people when expressing themselves and is someone who makes other people feel relatable and comfortable around them so people can usually talk freely and comfortably with your fs. fs communicates with a positive energy and that makes them have an audience and make other people just watch them speak for hours. thats how entertaining they are.
mercury in 6th house: often the way the fs can express themselves is by taking care of themselves. they aren't the ones to use much of vulgar words but often times may try to fix situations even the ones that they have no place to be involved in. can come across as neat, sensible and organised with their use of words which can usually make a lot of people understand them more. fs can communicate with lots of focus and with lots of observing so that can make them appear distracted because they are also focusing on what is going on around them.
mercury in 7th house: fs can have a soft but frank way of speaking. they tend to not lie and usually dislike liars in general. are very approachable with their speech and can attract people from their way of speaking. the fs may like to defend themselves a lot and can overthink way too much than needed. can communicate fairly and reasonably, meaning that he will give the chance for you to address your concerns as well as speak his own opinion. will try to constantly be respectable of your boundaries and not go too far.
mercury in 8th house: usually the fs can use a lot of vulgarity in their conversations and aren't afraid to address topics that may be viewed as closed off. can hold their silence well and may speak according to the vibe meaning that they can sense when it is or is not the right time to speak. fs can communicate very deeply with you and may include intense eye contact, deep attentiveness and intense responses. are really more of a listener than a speaker and will have a way for others to keep speaking. this is where manipulation can take place, they can ask lots of questions about people and yourself included which can be targeted in order for you or others to keep talking. thats how they can get a hold of secrets easily.
mercury in 9th house: the fs can speak with big words and can change their way of speaking often depending on the day. can make a person really think and wonder when they open their mouths and say something. can have a very smart way of expressing themselves and may be seen as someone who had many trials in life with the amount of maturity and wisdom they bring to the function. fs can communicate with authority and may speak with great confidence and certainty when speaking and sharing something that they are interested in. they will surely share their interests with you in a way of spreading something fun that they enjoy doing so you can have something fun to do too.
mercury in 10th house: fs will have some uncertainties when it comes to expressing themselves, they like to get to the point and not waste their time dilly dallying with their time. they can present themselves to be blunt and straightforward which can make them easily misunderstood. they tend to be more serious when they are talking and are the ones who will joke around with their actions rather than with their words. fs may take things to heart easily and be quite naïve. communication comes when is needed or rather when the surrounding is professional, but nonetheless are very good with remembering and obtaining knowledge about other people.
mercury in 11th house: fs may like talking to groups of people and tend to be confident in their speech. they like chatting with their friends and people closest to them. their way of speaking consists of being themselves Infront of others, being expressive with their hands and they tend to be ones who talk well but may not be the best at listening, they can forget easily or just dont attentively listen due to thinking about other things in their head. fs communicates irregularly and can change their way of speaking often which can make people or yourself think that it is your fault but it is not thats just how they are.
mercury in 12th house: this is a very clear indication of your husband speaking foreign tongue which means that they can be from overseas. can be quite creative with their words and can often surprise people with their hidden or locked away knowledge. can also be very soft spoken and can rarely raise their voice unless absolutely necessary. usually fs can address the slightest things even if you are having an off day, they realise and notice the shift in energy and make sure to address it. fs communicates with feeling, illusion and attachment that can make people think that there is something between them when there's actually not and thats just how they are. can bring delusion when in fact the fs can not think anything of it and misleads others without knowing.
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thank you for reading <<33
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brucewaynehater101 · 7 months
Text
AU
After the timestream, the tension between Tim and three of his brothers (Dick, Jason, and Damian) is a bit high. He's been polite and cordial with them, but there's this emotional distance that wasn't there before. When he was mad or upset with them, he'd actually show it. Now, it's like talking to an underpaid customer service representative.
In one of the sitting rooms, Dick is lamenting to Jason and Damian about Tim's distance. The two of them aren't that interested in Dick's woes as he prattles on and on. Yes, they no longer hate Tim, nor do they try to kill or maim him. They also just don't like him at this point. Going from antagonistic to grudging indifference was already a huge step. It's not like they've really conversed with Tim either. There's absolutely nothing to build a relationship on besides their not so great history. They don't really care to get to know him either.
So the two are listening to Dick vent about his relationship with Tim when something the eldest says sparks a slight incredulous irritation in them. Dick acknowledges that Tim probably felt hurt by the older's actions. Therefore, Dick concludes that it's obvious that Duke is Tim's favorite brother.
Now, listen. Both Jason and Damian like Duke. He's funny, kind, and somehow still has Bruce convinced the kid isn't the chaos gremlin he absolutely is. There's bets on how long it will take for Bruce to notice some of his headaches are coming from Duke (it's like the man doesn't remember Duke's origins). Neither Jason nor Damian have any issues with the kid.
However, Duke has been a family member for a few months at best. They're still getting to know each other. Both Damian and Jason have been brothers with Tim for years. There's absolutely no way this newbie wins best brother.
The two are not happy with the revelation, but Dick keeps talking. He, as if to himself, wonders aloud who Tim prefers more between Jason and Damian.
The two turn to look wearily at each other.
The final nail is the coffin is Dick giving up on finding out because neither of them are good at talking to Tim anyways. What's the point on speculating?
This cues weeks of the two competing with each other and, unbeknownst to him, with Duke to be the better brother. That's not what they're calling the competition, but they won't lose.
Duke is confused why every time he hangs out with Tim he gets glares from both Jason and Damian. Fearing that the two might be returning to their fatricidial ways, Duke sticks around Tim even more. Tim, clueless to Duke's reasoning, is happy that someone wants to spend time with him and chat about Tim's gadget upgrades.
Jason and Damian become even more aggressively affectionate after this.
Tim, confused as hell why the two brothers that hate him are suddenly hanging around him more, starts implementing his previous routines. He starts scanning all his food, checks his room for traps, ensures his equipment isn't tampered, and tries to avoid the Manor. The fact that his checks aren't revealing anything freak him out even more.
He doesn't know what their end game is, but there's no reason Damian is asking Tim about his photography techniques and Jason is handing Tim home-cooked goods.
Dick, the master emotional manipulator of the family, uses the chaos to mend his relationship with Tim. He also pats himself on the back for tricking Jason and Damian into putting the work in for finding common grounds with their estranged brother.
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heich0e · 1 year
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walking home from work and passing a flower shop that's closing up for the day and chatting with the florist for a moment about how beautiful the blooms are. the conversation draws to a close but the florist insists you take home a bouquet of off-cuts and a few extra flowers with a smile, and you cradle them in the crook of your arm and admire the rich colours and soft petals the rest of the way home with the perfect recipient in mind.
shouto greets you at the door—like he always does—and he stares down in shock as you hold the bouquet out to him proudly.
"who are these for?" he asks, hesitantly taking the bouquet in his big hands. he touches them delicately, like he's worried he might break them.
"they're for you!" you tell him with a smile, and he looks up at you with a blush high on his cheeks and eyes so earnestly bright you think you might actually see a sparkle in them.
"for me?" he repeats, staring down at the bouquet in quiet wonderment.
he turns towards the front door—still open because you haven't even yet had time to cross the threshold—and slumps against it glumly, forehead first, with the bundle of flowers held protectively to his chest.
"shouto, what's wrong?" you ask him worriedly.
he peeks over at you with a sad little pout on his lips.
"i just thought about how sad i'll be when they start to wilt," he says quietly. "no one's ever bought me flowers before."
and you laugh. you have to. there's no other sound you can make that better represents the warmth and fondness you feel swell suddenly in your chest. then you tuck yourself up close to his arm and brush a kiss against the edge of his jaw.
"then i'll just have to get you more!"
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holywizardheart · 1 month
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My solar return observations from real-life experiences
These are all my experiences and observations sometimes they may not resonate with you and sometimes may
Feel free to write down your unusual experiences whether it's traumatic or delightful
Don't copy my work they're all done by me let's respect someone's input and time ;)
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2nd house ruler in the 9th house can mean gaining money or self-confidence through higher education (in my situation I got a scholarship)
When my ascendant was the same as the 8th house sign I had a very emotive traumatic experience that left a big scar on me
When my solar ascendant was the same as the 9th house sign my family had to move to another city
When I had my solar moon in the 10th house I was constantly worried about my academic status and studies. I sacrificed my sleep and energy to pass the final exams plus I had panic attacks and anxiety
3rd house ruler in the 9th house may mean talking to people that are from different regions or cities
Saturn in the 7th house feeling lonely even though you have people to chat with and have fun with, unable to connect to people in a deeper way
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Mars in the 11th house losing friends over conflicts and misunderstandings (I lost one of my close friends that I spent a long time with)
Mercury in the 9th house conjunct Jupiter learning a new language (in my situation it's German)
Moon in the 12th house reflection, spending time alone, distancing yourself from the outside environment, feeling isolated and detached from your emotions
The ruler of the ascendant in the 4th house spends the majority of your time at home, valuing your comfort zone and peace
12th house ruler in the 5th house doing art while being by yourself, healing yourself with the help of your hobbies and interests, discovering yourself through hobbies and creativity
12th house ruler in the 8th house I had problems related to sleep like abusing my sleep schedule or insomnia (plus it can also indicate having nightmares or seeing past traumatic experiences in your dreams)
9th house stellium usually represents getting to a university or college
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Follow me if you wanna see new posts and observations ;)
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nocasdatsgay · 6 months
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Then There Were Three:
A Neapolitan Bonds Fic
Day One of @polyacotarweek : Beginnings
Summary: You are invited to the Autumn celebrations as an emissary of Dawn. The High Lord’s mate invites you to meet him after the party is over. Alternatively: The night the mating bond snapped.
MasterPost | Poly Week MasterPost| AO3 Link |
Pairing: Azriel/Eris/Reader | Rating: E🌶️ | Word Count: 4962
Warnings: heavy flirtations, slightly rough sex, Reader does panic near the end.
A/N: I did my best to be vague about the reader’s origins. I realized it leaves autumn out of her home court choices but you can pretend she’s from there if you squint and pretend she was raised elsewhere 😅
Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @hieragalbatorixdottir @ysmtttty @mybestfriendmademe
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You grabbed a flute of champagne off the table in the corner and took a sip. Autumn champagne was so different. The breed of champagne fruit grown in Autumn retained some of the sweetness like those grown in the warmer courts. However, it had a crisp undertone from the chill air. It was one of your favorites and you needed to remind yourself to buy a bottle from the market before leaving the Court.
You looked out at the party taking another sip to steel your nerves. They called you the floating emissary behind your back. Not that you would deny that name. You’d made your home in almost the same amount of courts as your friend Lucien. You were no spy- just versed in law and good at making fair treaties. Thanks to that, you had a good reputation with the High Lords.
At the moment, you were employed by Dawn, sent with a few others to represent the court for the Autumn festival week. It’s been held since Eris Vanserra became High Lord but this was your first time attending it. The ballroom was filled with delegates and courtiers. There were also natives of Autumn, high fae and not, intermingling. The party continued out the door to the courtyard.
The courtyard itself was beautiful. The trees were so vibrant, more than the last time you saw them. You’d been here once before under Beron’s reign. That one visit was enough to have you never come back to Autumn while he lived. Thankfully, you never had an excuse to come back until now.
So much changed in the past few decades.
You decided you’d rejoin the mingling, maybe find a few other courtiers to chat up. You held your glass tight and went to step away when a tall male seemed to stop and turn to you. You immediately recognized him, his black hair and Illyrian wings giving him away.
“Lord Azriel,” you curtsied, free hand fanning out the skirt of the maroon dress you wore for the occasion.
“Just Azriel.” A smile ghosted his lips. His gaze never left your own as he asked, “I don’t believe we’ve met, Lady?”
“Y/N,” you replied. “Just Y/N.”
Amusement flashed in his eyes and across his face.
“And where are you from, Just Y/N?”
You knew in your mind that he was just being polite but your stomach still flipped on itself. If this was the High Lord’s mate and famed shadowsinger being polite you were terrified of what he could do when he was truly flirting.
“Depends. I’m a liaison for the Dawn Court, currently.”
“The Floating Emissary, I’ve heard of you.” His gaze raked over you and you felt your cheeks heat. “You’re much prettier than Lucien.”
“I would hope,” you laughed. “Handsome male that he is, I have to surpass his reputation somehow.”
His laughter rang out like a song. You steeled yourself again. The last thing you needed was the High Lord of Autumn catching you speaking with his mate and assuming you were flirting. Why it worried you, you weren’t certain. Possibly because Azriel was devastatingly handsome and easy to flirt with.
“Was there a reason you were hiding out over here by the drinks?”
“Taking a break. Parties require more small talk than some might suspect.”
He hummed in agreement. “Would you be up for a dance?”
Your mind seemed to stop working, trying to process what was just asked of you. You glance at the throne and the High Lord is gone. Part of you was disappointed at that. You decided to down the rest of your champagne.
“Of course.”
Azriel grinned at you. “I like your style.”
He held out his hand and you took it in yours. Your stomach flipped on itself again and the texture of his hand had heat flaring between your legs. You smiled and mentally shook yourself, trying to keep it together. Some of the crowd parted as he led you to the dance floor, though no one seemed to care.
“An Autumn dance?” Asked, his hand went to your waist and you inhaled sharply. “Or a Night Court dance.”
You told yourself the look in his eyes was just him being impressed. It was not the look of someone who wanted to devour you whole in the middle of the throne room with everyone watching. You watched his shadows swirl around your arms. Like they were studying you.
“Autumn,” he replied as the band started the next song. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
You knew the song and took it as a challenge. Of course the dance he wanted was faster, and involved a lot of footwork and being close to your partner. Thank the mother your skirt slit, though hidden due to volume, was high.
“You must have a lot of practice,” you said as he guided you backwards. “It’s not the easiest dance with wings.”
He twirled you and pulled you back.
“It’s not. Nesta spent two weeks teaching me for my mating ceremony.”
Right. Azriel was mated to the High Lord. You glanced around, letting him guide you again. Your eyes widened when you made eye contact with that very male. He was watching you intensely. And speak of the Weaver and she shall appear. Beside him was Nesta Archeron herself, watching you just as closely until a tall Illyrian male- her mate, walked up beside her.
“Don’t mind them.” His hands didn’t leave your shoulder and waist but it felt like he’d gently tugged your chin. “They’re just enjoying the show.”
He said it as if he wasn’t doing a Fire Waltz with you. Thankfully you two were not the only ones dancing. You’d be mortified if everyone was watching. He twirled you again and pulled you flush to his back. You spent the whole time he walked you around like that focused on not letting your scent get away from you. Another twirl and you were back in front. You were imagining it, you told yourself; the slight sweetness of his own scent.
Thankfully the song ended. There were claps from the crowd for you and the others who danced. The High Lord nor Nesta and Cassian (you believed that was his name) were where you last saw them as you looked around. You thought Azriel would bid you good night, and part from you. Instead he leaned into you, and you held your breath.
He whispered into your ear. “A left from the main hall, three doors on the right. Be there after the party.” You could only nod. “See you then, Y/N.”
You didn’t exhale until he moved away, leaving you slightly dizzy and flushed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the mother, what were you doing? A smart female would go to her room and forget whatever the Shadowsinger said. A smart female would walk in, explain her apologies and how she must go. The irrational part of you saw this as just an unconventional in for negotiations. It’s not bribery to flirt. Nor is it that unethical to speak in private with one of the heads of court.
You arrived at the door and could feel something like a tug in your chest to go in. Your nerves were getting the better of you. You looked down the hallway both ways twice. You could leave and write a note, explaining it’s improper for you to meet him this late. He would have to understand. However before you could make a decision the door opened.
In front of you was not Azriel. It was the High Lord, Eris. You’d never been up close to him before. The front of his long red hair was pulled back into braids, and his whole being glowing in his power. Amber eyes stared back into yours. You scrambled to gain your bearings, still too stunned to explain your presence. He raised a brow at you, expression like steel and your mouth opened and closed. You took a breath.
“High Lord,” you bowed. “Good evening.”
You straightened and you watched his gaze run over you.
“Come in, Y/N.”
You could have swooned with how your name rolled off his tongue. Gods what was wrong with you? He stepped aside and held the door. You forgot what you were thinking, stepping in past him. His scent made your eyes flutter.
You scolded yourself. You were a trained emissary; one of the best. Yet here you were losing your mind over a High Lord and his mate. Which said mate was sprawled out on a chair, wings spread and legs opened like he owned the place. He looked at you smugly when you raked your eyes over him.
“You requested to meet with me Lord Azriel?” Your voice was calmer than you felt.
Lord Eris shut the door, drawing your attention back to him. Even without the power radiating off of him, he was devastatingly handsome. He went past you and sat on the couch. Looking between the two of them; it was night and day almost.
“Just Azriel. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you. I think I had enough at your ball.” You looked at Eris. “It was very lively. Thank you for inviting us.”
Your subtle reminder that you did not come alone caught his attention. You could see it flash in his eyes. That didn’t seem to deter him.
“Have a seat,” he gestured to the chairs behind you.
You brushed the back of your skirt, pulled them forward so you didn’t sit on them awkwardly. You looked between the two males in front of you.
“Thank you for inviting me to meet you.” You used your most polite and naive tone. “Though I am uncertain what has warranted a private meeting.”
The High Lord and Azriel already had their own drinks on the tables beside them. The High Lord picked his drink up and took a sip.
“Azriel was explaining to me what a famous emissary you are,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Giving my brother a run for his money.”
“I don’t know about all that,” you replied and straightened the front of your skirt.
“I think I do,” Azriel grinned at you.
The next few minutes encompassed Azriel listing out your achievements- the Summer Court trade route, for one. He brought the peace treaty between Spring and the Night Court. You argued Lucien did more work with that, considering he was mated to the High Lady’s sister. A few laws you overlooked during your brief time in Winter came up as well.
“Should I feel left out that I’ve never received the honor of you working in my court?” Eris asked.
“Are you trying to recruit me to be your emissary, High Lord?” You teased.
“You can rest easy knowing I’m not trying to steal you from Thesan,” he joked back. “However, I might invite you back more often if you can dance like that.”
“I saw you watching.” You crossed your legs. Unintentionally, the slit fell open. You ignored it even if the two males in front of you were eyeballing your legs now. “You’re mate is a very skilled dancer.
“He learned from the best.” Eris took a sip from his glass. “I almost married her for it.”
That you didn’t know. You filed that away in your mind to examine later.
“Don’t lie. You did that to piss off Cassian,” Azriel countered.
Eris rolled his eyes. You wondered if you should continue the small talk or be direct. Both the High Lord and his mate seemed to like the direct approach so you finally asked them.
“Why was I really invited here?”
“You know why.” Azriel kept a heated gaze on you as he downed the rest of the alcohol in his glass. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were pretty.”
Your mind was telling you to leave. The solar courts were more lax but this was Autumn. If anyone saw you, your reputation could be ruined. But you couldn’t move with both very handsome males staring at you like they wanted to eat you alive. Situations like this didn’t happen to you. Was it so terrible that you were enjoying the attention?
“You can leave and neither of us will stop you.” Eris reassured you. “Nor will it be held against you. This is strictly off record. It’ll be as if it never happened.”
“As if staying is any better?” You countered.
“Do you think so little of us that we’d allow your reputation to be ruined?” Eris chuckled.
“A female can never be too careful.” You wished you had taken another drink. If only to give your hands something to do. “Do you always recruit a female from your parties or am I special?”
It was meant to be a joke. A tease really. There was nothing teasing in Azriel’s eyes when he replied.
“You’re the only one we’ve ever agreed to make an offer to together.”
Heat flared between your legs and you knew your scent betrayed you. Especially with that wicked grin Eris had on his face. You squeezed your legs together and barely kept your composure.
“What would you like me to do?” You whispered.
Azriel held up his hand, fingers curling to beckon you over.
“Come here baby girl and let me show you.”
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*`*~*~*~*~*~*~
If you told yourself yesterday you’d be falling into bed with a High Lord and his mate, you would have laughed. Then you would have asked in what world Helion would agree to share his bed after centuries of waiting for his mate to be free. Falling into the High Lord of Autumn’s bed? Impossible.
And yet.
Azriel was behind you, kissing your neck. His hands had pushed down the top of your dress on one side so he could cup your breast and roll your nipple between his fingers. Eris sat on the edge of the bed, hands up your skirt and pulling down your panties. Once they were off he pulled you forward by the hips and moved your knees onto the bed so you straddled him.
You fell back against Azriel, moaning when Eris wasted no time slipping a hand up your skirt and pushing two fingers into your slick heat. Azriel chuckled at you, pulling his mouth off your neck. You reached your arm back, hand grabbing his hair if only to hold onto something. Eris didn’t even move; you rode his fingers, thighs brushing against his pants.
You whined when he removed them only to be silenced when he stuck them into your open mouth. You hummed against them, sucking on them. He didn’t anticipate you would lower yourself on his lap and rub against the bulge in his pants, by the groan he made. Azriel had worked the zipper in the back of your dress down and it was hanging limply on your arms.
“Soon pretty girl,” Eris said and took his fingers out of your mouth.
Azriel removed your hand and arm off of him and Eris pushed up your dress. Azriel tossed it aside just like Eris had your undergarments. You were about to protest, you being nude while they were not, then Eris snapped his fingers. The clothes on himself vanished, and you inhaled sharply at the feel of his bare skin against your own. Azriel was naked as well, judging from the hard length against your back.
“Nifty trick,” you said, running your fingers over the dusting of hair on his chest.
“It is useful.” He looked about as hyper aware of the fact his cock was pressed against your cunt as you were. “Who do you want first?”
“Depends on how you want me.”
They invited you. You were not going to insult one by picking the other first. Eris’s gaze went behind you to Azriel. He looked back at you with a knowing smirk.
“How is your reflex?”
His hand came up and cupped around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, just brushed his thumb against your skin. You wonder if he knew what a power move he just made. Surely he could feel how wet you were. Az put his hands on your waist, waiting.
“Okay, I guess.” You replied. “It’s decent.”
He hummed, removing his hand. “Azriel gets you first then. He can be rough and we don’t want to ruin that pretty throat of yours yet. Are you okay with taking me in your mouth while he fucks you?”
“Yes,” you replied very quickly.
“Good.”
Several things happened at once. Eris moved from under you and down the bed, while Azriel lifted you up with his arms. He hooked his hands and arms under your thighs and lifted you up, carrying you for a moment before dropping you back onto the bed. You screamed when he did that, which had them both laughing at you.
“Not used to being handled properly?” Azriel bent you forward over Eris’s lap, your hands propping yourself up.
“No.”
You couldn’t think of a witty response. Not when his hands were lifting up your hips to positions exactly how he wanted you. And Eris- the scent of him surrounded you while you watched him stroke himself.
“Open your mouth, princess.”
You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. When you did that, Azriel grabbed your ass and you felt him spread you open. He pushed into you and you forgot what you were doing, dropping your head with a moan. Azriel was big, you gave him that much. He held you by the hips until he was damn near pressing into your stomach. There was no movement from him as you adjusted. Until he grabbed you by the hair to lift your head. You were looking at Eris again.
He whispered into your ear, “open your mouth.”
You did so again. He let go of your hair and lowered your mouth onto Eris’ cock. He was big too. You went down as far as you were comfortable with and rubbed your tongue against him.
“Good girl,” Eris murmured.
That made you clench around Azriel. There seemed to be an understanding in that moment. When you bobbed your head, Azriel pulled out and slammed back into you. Azriel was indeed rough. He took exactly what he wanted from you, your whole body moving in time with him. Eris was stroking your hair while you used one hand to make up for what you couldn’t take into your mouth. You finally pulled off of Eris, salvia stringing from your mouth to the head of his cock.
“Touch me,” you turned to almost look back at Azriel. “Please, I can’t,” you didn’t know how to express what you wanted or why. Your hand still stroked Eris, your other arm starting to shake.
You felt the weight of Azriel shift on your back and his arm hook around your waist. You fell face first into Eris’s thigh when Azriel’s fingers found your clit. You even stopped stroking the High Lord. How were you supposed to think when Azriel was hitting all the right spots inside and outside of you?
Then Azriel pulled out of you. You yelled in protest- until he was lifting you up and spinning you around. These two males had to have a routine. Azriel put you right into Eris’s hard length like it was nothing. Before you could think, his hand was in your hair, pushing his length into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him and it made you dizzy. More movement behind you: Eris had shifted onto his knees.
They moved in sync, more so than before leaving you to sit there and take it. Eris lifted your hip up at a different angle that had you seeing stars. Azriel was gagging you and being just as rough as Eris promised. In no time, your orgasm was rushing through you with unstoppable force. Your muffled moans had Azriel spilling down your throat. You’re certain Eris followed and came inside you.
You were a wreck when they both pulled out of you.
“You did so well.” Azriel wiped the tears off your cheek while you caught your breath.
There was drool all over your mouth and you could feel Eris’s cum slipping out of you. You needed to clean yourself up. You went to move off the bed and ask where the bathroom was. Instead you pulled back onto the bed with an invisible force. You were held there on your back by your arms; shadows pinning you down. Eris snapped his fingers and you were mostly clean again.
Eris grinned down at you. “Oh love, did you think we were done with you? We’re just getting started.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You waited until their breathing evened out before easing out of bed. Looking for your dress in the dark on wobbly and sore legs wasn’t ideal, but you needed to get back to your room before someone noticed you were missing. Samira would not believe you if you got caught sneaking into your guest chambers. You found it and slipped it on, fighting with the zipper and giving up when you got it halfway up your back. Shoes were next. Your underwear was nowhere to be found.
You huffed. The last thing you wanted was for them to find it and return it with a smug grin. You finally found it by the bathing room door. Slipping them on, you didn’t hear bed creak or the sound of footsteps until something whispered your name.
“By the cauldron,” your whole body jolted, heart racing. You turned to see Azriel behind you, thankfully wearing pants.
“Sorry,” Azriel chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine.” You caught your breath and whispered. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother. I can winnow you into your room so you don’t have to walk.”
“That’s kind of you.”
He put his hand on your arm and when you looked him in his eyes- your whole body recoiled and you inhaled sharply. That tightness in your chest you felt all evening snapped. You took several steps back staring at him horrified. Your hand went to your chest. You stared at him with eyes wide and he stared back in what you were certain was horror.
What just happened was impossible. Azriel was with the High Lord. You needed to leave. Panic ripped through you at the implications. It was not possible- you were imagining it. You needed to leave. You took several steps back, not looking at Azriel. Maybe it was just you. Maybe you lost your mind. It had to be. There was no way-
Someone was calling your name.
You blinked. You’d backed yourself into a corner. You couldn’t catch your breath no matter how much you breathed in and out. A warm hand made you startle; you focused on amber eyes staring back at you and it happened again. That sharp tug in your chest like a rope going taunt.
“Look at me.”
A soft but firm command of a High Lord you couldn’t ignore. You blinked and you were crying. Strange emotions that weren’t your own were overwhelming you. It was too much, the sudden wave of feelings hitting you. Something cold wrapped around your wrists. You looked down and screamed, shaking your arms when you saw black lines.
“It’s just shadows,” Azriel said calmly from behind Eris. “They’re trying to help.”
“It’s alright,” Eris whispered, brushing your hair back with his hand. “Take a deep breath.” You did as you were told. “Good girl. Now breathe out.”
You found your voice even if it was laced with your tears. “I didn’t. I swear it, I don’t know how.”
How do you explain that this wasn’t a trick? They had to think that. If they felt it then they had to believe you cast a spell on them. They could throw you in the dungeons for this or worse. What were the odds you climbed into their bed and- two tugs halted your thoughts. Warmth flooded your chest. You choked back a sob.
Eris sighed. “Az can you go get a calming tonic from the infirmary please?”
If he disappeared, you didn’t know. Eris dropped his hands to your shoulder and gently guided you backwards. Your legs hit the back of a chair; he gently sat you down into it and then knelt so he was eye level with you.
“I know this is a lot to take in. I promise you, we are not upset.” He took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.
“I don’t understand,” you whispered. You swallowed and blinked profusely. “Aren’t you afraid I’ve placed a spell on you?”
You couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. Eris laughed.
“We invited you to our bed. Was it that good you suddenly thought of a spell to cast in between orgasms to trap us?”
Your face heated at his remarks. Thankfully out of the darkness Azriel appeared with a vial. He handed it to you and you took it with shaky hands. You felt dramatic for your reaction but there was nothing you could do about it. Eris took it from you and uncorked it before handing it back. You downed it quickly. He stood and took the bottle from you, vanishing it into thin air.
“Well?” You looked between them after a moment passed. “Aren’t you going to say something about this?” You gestured between yourself and them, specifically pointing at your chest.
“It’s a mating bond, what else is there to say about it?” Eris replied.
Your stomach flipped at his candor and Azriel hummed in agreement. As if this happened all the time. Maybe they took a calming tonic also when you weren’t looking.
“How are you both calm? Mating bonds,” you forced the term out, still not believing it was real, “are between two fae not three!”
Azriel and Eris glanced at each other. Both of them had a knowing look. Azriel shrugged and Eris sighed. He turned to you, meeting your gaze again.
“Years ago we were told this could happen.” You blinked, something akin to shock washing over you. He continued. “We were told specifically that the light of dawn would bring forth a third bond.”
“Like a prophecy? That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” you replied without thinking.
Azriel bursted out with laughter. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”
You scoffed in response, uncertain of who she was. “You also said you didn’t plan to steal me from Thesan. You, High Lord Eris, are a liar.”
Now it was Eris who laughed. “Glad to see the tonic is working.”
If they had been told before- “So you knew it was me?”
“No, we did not. I felt a draw to you but,” he looked you up and down. “I think the reason is self explanatory.”
“My shadows took a liking to you out in the throne room,” Azriel added sheepishly. “But they didn’t tell me. The bond snapped for me when I touched you.”
Mates.
Mates, plural.
You had mates.
Realization sunk in and you slumped against the chair. You never entertained the idea of having a mate. For you it was an old wives tale, a fictional love story you read about in romance novels. Yes, they existed. But it seemed like it was reserved for High Lords and other important fae. You weren’t anyone special.
“I think,” Eris interrupted your thoughts. “We should rest. Azriel can winnow you to your room. We can talk in the morning if you are up for it.”
“Can I stay?” You whispered.
You had no right to ask that of a mated pair, let alone a High Lord you didn’t really know. However, the idea of leaving made you uneasy. Your friends would understand. Gods, how were you going to explain this? Yes, well a High Lord and his mate asked me for a threesome and surprise seems like I’m their mate too! You mentally groaned at how ridiculous this all was.
“Of course.” Eris pulled you out of your thoughts. “Azriel can get you a change of clothes from your room. If that’s alright with you.”
You nodded. This time you saw the shadows envelop Azriel. It was amazing to watch him disappear almost into a puff of smoke. However, that left you alone with Eris. Not that you cared. The potion was deeply in effect. You realized he was shirtless and your gaze ran over his bare chest and arms.
“We have a guest bed you can sleep in.” You looked up to see Eris with a slight smirk on his face.
“A guest bed?” You furrowed your brows. “In your own chambers?”
“Az’s wings are sensitive. Sometimes he doesn’t like to share a bed.” He paused. “I know I speak for us both that while this isn’t an ideal situation, we would like to get to know you. If you wish.”
“Are you asking for permission to court me, High Lord?” That did something for him because you could feel it before he shut it down. “I need to process it, I think.”
“That’s reasonable.” He gave you a soft smile.
You didn’t have to wait awkwardly for long as Azriel returned quickly with your bag. There was indeed a guest room right next to the High Lord’s bedroom, which still shocked you. As surreal as the past few minutes were, you were exhausted. You bid them an awkward good night and when Eris shut the door and you swore you heard him whisper something to Azriel, about how they owed his sister-in-law a lengthy apology.
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hancoxinc · 11 months
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Customer Support Chat Job: $25/hr
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alltimefail · 12 days
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Another small way to help Dead Boy Detectives that takes less than 5 minutes
This was a suggestion from the @savethedeadboys account on TikTok!
If you have a Netflix account, go to this page:
When you get there you can just type your issue in as "Chat with a representative" and then press "Chat with us."
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A chat box will pop up, just like if you were private messaging someone. They will ask what you need and again I just typed in "Chat with a representative."
After that, you will be connected to someone (for me it was less than 5 minutes) and asked what email your account is associated with and what you need help with. I said the following:
"Hello! I wanted to reach out and voice my displeasure and disappointment about Netflix's recent decision to cancel Dead Boy Detectives. I know that as a customer service representative, this is not your fault and you are not involved in these decisions, but I have been so heartbroken and angry that this show was canceled by Netflix with no justifiable reason. It seems to be a trend lately that Netflix does not care to complete stories that mainly focus on the experiences of queer people and people of color, which is a great injustice to the audiences that typically are looking to be represented in the media they consume and the diverse cast who put their all into creating a fantastic, nuanced show. If possible, I would greatly appreciate you passing this message along to let someone in management know my displeasure with this recent decision that could very well lead to me ending my relationship with the streamer in the future. Thank you!"
You can use what I said as a template, but obviously, adjust it to sound like you! My representative was lovely and I had this message typed beforehand, so literally it took me 5 minutes. You can even request a copy of the conversation (a transcript) to be sent to your email if you desire (I did, I have been keeping meticulous receipts of my work regarding saving this show so Netflix cannot have any plausible deniability, at least where I'm concerned).
Remember to BE KIND. Whoever you're talking to did not make this decision and they shouldn't be treated poorly because of it!
Happy case solving, detectives! We're going to bring our boys home, have faith! 💜
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literary-motif · 12 days
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Pick Me Up
Jonah x Reader
An interaction with a rude customer leaves you a little rattled.
Warnings: harassment
Working at the bar would not be half as bad if it were not for the small percentage of horrible customers. The majority was alright, some were even memorably polite, but at the end of the day, you always remembered the outright rude ones, making every pleasant customer interaction sink to the back of your mind. 
You could still picture the face of the woman who had sneered at you, telling you that the Vodka Martini you had served her was made with cheap Martini — as if you had any control over the beverages your employer chose to supply his establishment with. 
You remembered the man who had rolled his eyes at you, clicking his tongue before telling you that you were horriblyorganized because you told him the licorice was out of stock — as if it was your job to walk to the store and get it.
When being served, people often forgot the basic structure of the establishment they were sitting in. 
It was normally not the bartender who was responsible for the limited option of drinks at the bar — it was their employer. It was not the waiter’s fault if the portion of the food was insufficient, they were not the ones in the kitchen preparing it. 
It was not you who made the prices, but the boss who occasionally helped himself to the tips of his staff. It was not your fault if you were out of every type of whiskey if your boss refused to buy new ones because their prices had skyrocketed. 
The only problem was that it was you, interacting with the customers. It was your face they saw. It was you representing the establishment, so naturally, it was you they blamed for every little inconvenience they could think of.
Still, it was alright. 
You had learned quickly not to take these things to heart, and it was not an unusual occurrence for you to return home late from one of your shifts, find Jonah still awake, and spill your guts about the trashy customer you had had to deal with that day. He always listened attentively, laughing alongside you at these people’s weird sense of entitlement, and offering commentary on the situation. Together, you often came up with the most hilarious replies to people’s snide comments that had you howling with laughter. 
If rude customers were rare in the majority of people you interacted with daily, there was another fraction who was rarer still: the people who made you genuinely uncomfortable. 
Every once in a while, maybe every two months or so, a person would fall into that category. Sometimes, they tried flirting with you. Sometimes, they made inappropriate comments. Sometimes, they reached over the counter and gave you a confused look when you sprung back. 
Most of the time these people were drunk, having indulged in a little too much alcohol. They tried fighting your decision to stop serving it to them, and only begrudgingly walked out of the bar after you remained stubborn. 
Rarer still were the times when someone completely sober was sitting on the stool before you, watching you like a hawk as they tried chatting you up. 
“You have a pretty face,” he said, keeping his gaze on you as you prepared his Espresso Martini. He wore a tailored suit with a striped tie and must have bathed in cologne. You could smell its deep scent from the other side of the counter from how exceedingly he had applied it. “You should smile more. You’re too serious.”
You glanced at him. He gave you a smirk. The air of entitlement was strong with this one. 
“What is there to smile about when I am pouring vodka into a cocktail shaker?” you retorted, keeping your face carefully blank. 
“Maybe it’s the fact that you’re doing it for me, love. Come on, give me a smile.”
Your colleague had just left for a smoke break, so you were alone behind the counter with his increasingly uncomfortable presence before you. 
Those gray eyes did not stop boring into you, and your hands began to shake as he continued smiling at you. 
“Smile, come on.”
“Sir, I need you to back off,” you said, moving away from him in a faux search for the sugar syrup. 
“It’s behind you, darling,” he said, giving you a dazzling smile. “I’ve seen you here a few times. How come you still don’t know where everything is? Am I making you nervous, or are you just that much prettier than you are intelligent?” He chuckled, expecting you to do the same. 
You only stared at him, clenching your jaw. Who the fuck did this baster think he was talking to? You opened your mouth to reply, the words dying on your tongue as you caught sight of his watch. It was engraved, the name William Kennedyglaring at you in pretty cursive. How had you not recognized the son of your employer? 
You swallowed thickly. 
“Cat got your tongue, sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now come on, finish my drink.”
You reached for the sugar syrup, not dignifying him with a response as you did what you were told. What could you do? You needed this job, and although you were sure you could find another one in no time with your experience and qualifications, it was still an inconvenience you would much rather avoid. Telling the son of your boss to fuck off would get you fired, right? You were pretty sure it would, so you bit your tongue. 
“You know,” he continued, and you had never wanted anyone to shut up as badly, “now you are just the type of person I would take home. You’re sweeter when you keep your mouth shut, the only thing missing is a smile.” He pulled out his wallet, waving a ten-pound note in front of your face. “Smile if you want a tip,” he said. 
You stood frozen, the cocktail shaker in your hands forgotten as you blinked at the scum before you. “I’m in a relationship,” you said tensely, your eyes narrowing in a glare. 
“So am I,” he replied, adding five pounds. “Smile.”
“Listen,” you began, losing your patience. Son of your boss or not, this was getting ridiculous. You set aside the cocktail shaker, meeting his gaze coldly. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here. I’d advise you to stop, or I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“You listen, actually,” he said, placing his elbows on the counter and leaning forward until he was face to face with you, “maybe you don’t know who I am, and I can excuse ignorance. This whole place is going to be mine someday, got that? I could get you fired with a phone call. So how about you give me a pretty smile and serve me that drink I ordered.” 
“Sir, I need you to leave this establishment.” 
He chuckled, making a show of checking his watch. “I’m going to give you sixty seconds until I—” 
Whatever he was about to say got caught in his throat as you opened the cocktail shaker, throwing the contents of his would-be Espresso Martini onto his white dress shirt, staining it irreparably.
He cursed profusely, springing to his feet and staring down the front of his ruined shirt. You had gotten some on his suit jacket as well. 
The two women at the table in the far corner snickered loudly, and even the elderly man who liked to read his newspaper with a glass of red wine looked up, raising an eyebrow at the cursing mess before you. 
“I’m going to give you sixty seconds to leave before I call the police on you for harassment,” you said, staring him down. “Sir.”
He shot a deathly glare your way, picking up his wallet off the counter. “Just you wait,” he spat, storming out of the bar and leaving a wet trail of footsteps you now needed to clean up. 
The added work was worth it though. You wondered what your boss would think when he watched the CCTV. Perhaps he had gotten the angry call already, demanding to fire you immediately.
Your blood was boiling, and you found yourself not caring about his opinion at all. Nobody treated you like this, least of all your boss’ entitled son. Still, his words rang in your ears, and you wondered if his petty scheme of revenge extended beyond an angry phone call to his father. Who knew the connections he had? Who knew how much you had truly pissed him off. 
At the end of your shift, you found yourself dreading the thought of walking home alone. 
“Hey babe, what’s up?” Jonah’s cheery voice on the other end of the line was an immediate ray of sunshine on this bleak night. “You’re done early.”
“Hi, uh,” you stammered, feeling a little embarrassed. Your anxieties were probably just paranoia anyway. There was no need to inconvenience Jonah with any of this.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, the tone of concern slicing through your heart like a knife. You had not meant to make him worry. “Babe?”
“Nothing’s wrong, just,” you began, shifting your weight and looking around the empty bar. “Today was weird and— and if you’re not busy, could you come get me? I’d rather not make my way home alone.”
“Sure. Where are you?” he asked. You heard the creak of his gaming chair and the shuffling of clothes. “Still at the bar?”
“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at the cocktail shaker. 
“Stay there. I’ll be there in approximately fifteen minutes, alright? I’ll smother you in a hug and you’ll tell me all about your day. Sounds good?”
You chuckled, picking up your bag and turning off the lights behind the counter. “I can start walking and we’ll meet halfway.”
“Babe, you don’t need to if you don’t feel like it,” he said. You heard the front door shut. “I’m on my way. If you’d rather we walk together, then that’s fine. There is no need to rush, and honestly, if you tell me today has been weird, I’d rather you wait for me inside.”
“I’m probably overreacting.”
“On the one-in-a-million chance you’re not, I’d rather not test it,” Jonah said, hurriedly making his way down the street. “Do you need me to stay on the line?”
“Nah, I’m fine,” you said, peering through the shut blinds into the darkness outside. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. See you in a few minutes, babe. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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elkian · 8 months
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In Stars And Time (and its predecessor Start Again to a degree) did something really impressive in a video game: making a non-combatant child character not only likeable, but critical to the fabric of the story. Notably, the Kid is not a primary story character. They represent the common folk of the endangered fantasy land; someone whose home and family was taken by the Big Bad, leaving them stranded.
In the core party, we have the Housemaiden, blessed, immune to the worst status effect, bearing a unique elemental type, etc. It's actually very amusing that she is blatantly The Main Character of this story, because she isn't the POV character.
With her we have the Fighter, a good-hearted tank who worked as a Defender in the homeland of the first three; the Researcher, a foreigner traveling the land, who's book-smart and has a wide array of spells, the wizard type.
And then we have the POV character, Siffrin, a classic Improbably Good-Natured Wandering Rogue archetype. You know, the classic shifty thief-type and troublemaker who nonetheless aids the party without thought of reward and isn't actually a criminal despite the vibes? That kind of rogue.
The Kid isn't a playable character. They can contribute to combat, but it's randomized. The most you can do is equip them with gear and skills that affect the frequency of their input, and ask them to feed the party heals (and possibly feed the final boss a bomb).
What the Kid is, what they represent, is in many ways the emotional core of the party (as the party knows it; Siffrin might develop different ideas, but, notably, still cares deeply for the Kid's wellbeing).
The Kid provides snacks, which is partly about their heals-carrying role, but it has a broader application. Between each level in the main dungeon, there's a snack break with three options. As you play the game, looping over and over, choosing different snacks can be the most you can break out at times. Snacktime also creates a narrative and gameplay break, a time to chat with the party one-on-one.
The Kid is the moral support and backbone of the party; it's possible to tell this story without them, but it would, frankly speaking, be a less emotional, less interesting story, with lower stakes. The Kid is at risk when you fight; the adults team up and agree to protect them no matter the cost, and this is not a throwaway line. This has consequences. This creates texture.
Late in the game, Siffrin develops the option to do Party Member Personal Quests, and despite being a noncombatant, the Kid is one of them. All of these Quests are meaningful and important in their way, but the things we learn in the Kid's Quest are extremely important to understanding Siffrin. The other Quests have personal elements that Siffrin relates to, but this one is about him in a very specific way, that could not be fully replicated by mirroring the events referenced onto one of the adults. This Quest pans out the way it does because the Kid is a kid.
It's hard for me to put into exact words, especially when I don't want to spoil things, but there's even more specific details that make them important to the narrative progression, again, without being an "important" person in the context of the game world. By being important to Siffrin and the rest of the party, by having their narrative wound in with the others, the Kid is as integral to the story as any other character.
Kid characters like this in video games aren't often well-respected, and that tends to be for good reason - they tend to represent ludonarrative dissonance, be annoying, or be the product of overcompensation and have their importance rubbed into the player's face. Many of them could be extracted from the narrative without having a significant effect on the outcome, or would destroy the narrative because they're the focus character, borderline Morality Pets for protagonists. The Kid in ISAT and SA fascinates me, because I came to care about them in a very natural manner, not just because their personality and interactions are endearing, but because the way they and the other party members relate to each other has a tangible impact on the story and emotional core of the game.
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al-of-the-stars · 5 months
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"Lily of the Valley"
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Lute x GN Angel Reader
Synopsis: After being saved from a near-death encounter, you slowly fall in love with Lute, the very same angel who had rescued you. Little do you know, she harbors the same feelings for you.
A/n: I honestly had this idea in a dream and when I remembered it, my first thought was "holy shit I GOTTA write this" Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!
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You never had much of a relationship with Lute. Sure, you were pretty good acquaintances but there wasn’t much more to it than that. You both worked for the exorcist army but she was on the battlefield while you were on the sidelines as a strategist, planning the exterminators' next move. That was until one extermination. While you were lost in your own plans, your eyes practically glued to the map in your hands,you failed to notice the demon behind you holding an angelic weapon. Just when the sinner was about to stab you, you felt another presence nearby. When you turned around, you saw none other than the lieutenant of the exorcists herself, covered in splashes of crimson. Your eyes went wide and you felt golden blood rush to your face, though you couldn't tell if it was from the near-death experience you just had or how attractive Lute looked while killing that unholy soul. You thought it was most likely the latter. “Are you alright? You aren't hurt anywhere, are you?” Those words snapped you out of your train of thought.
“Oh I think I'm fine, thank you,”
“It's not a problem, I'm glad you're okay,” You could have sworn you saw the face on her mask turn into a smile, but you didn't have enough time to comprehend anything as she dashed off flying. Since that day, you grew much closer. During training, you couldn't help but take glances at her. Unbeknownst to you due to the limited expression of her mask, she was doing the same. When you looked her way, she would try extra hard to impress you. All the other exorcists noticed and attempted to wingman her in their spare time.
“Just tell them already!”
“What's the worst that could happen?”
“They look at you like a lovesick anime schoolgirl, there is no way they don't like you back,” After practice, you two would usually visit a cafe and just chat; your company was the highlight of her day. This became routine and slowly, your relationship and feelings grew more and more until it became unbearable to hold it in. Lute finally got sick of those outings being just a hangout between two friends, she was sick of looking at you and wishing she could just grab your waist and pull you in for a kiss, she was sick of pretending she didn't love you. Another day of training passed by and as you walked out the door of the cafe, Lute handed you an envelope.
“Open this when you get home,” She instructed. The walk back to your house felt like forever and the curiosity was practically killing you. The moment you walked through the door, you opened the neatly sealed envelope.
“Dear Y/n,
I was originally going to write a poem to explain how I felt but I'm not too great with metaphors or meanings, so I'll be straightforward with you like always. I love you. I can't help but admire you when you do the most regular things. I have fallen in love with everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your voice. If you feel the same, next time we visit somewhere after practice, I hope it can be a date.
-Lute”
Along with the letter, there was a flower. More specifically, it was a lily of the valley, a flower that represents love and sincerity. You picked up the lily and put it in a vase with water. Who knew the stone-cold lieutenant had a heart of gold?
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