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suugarbabe · 8 months

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foolish flowers | g.w x reader

word count: ~1.5k

summary: little georgie blurb based on an ask I recieved and lost.

warning: fluff

The dinging above the door alerted you that a customer had walked into the shop. You did your best to sound polite as you shouted from the back, “I’ll be right up.” Whoever had walked in told you to take your time, but you still found yourself rushing a bit as to not appear rude.

You walked from the back with a bushel of Aster flowers in your arms, completely obstructing your view. You feel yourself nearly tripping over a pot as you’re making your way to your work station, quietly cursing to yourself. “Here, let me help you with those,” two large hands grab the bushel from you, placing it on the counter.

You smoothed out your apron before looking up and meeting quite possibly the softest and kindest green eyes you’ve ever seen, “T-thank you.” The man in front of you just smiled, giving a nod before going back to look at the flowers and arrangements you had around your small shop.

His brows furrowed reading the different cards associated with certain displays. You found yourself watching him, observing him as he looked around. He was incredibly tall, having to nearly bend in half to read anything on the counter.

You couldn’t help but find his looks of confusion endearing. You decided it was probably best to offer your assistance, for as much as it seemed like he wanted to appear like he knew what he was looking for, he was completely lost. “Looking for something for your girlfriend?” you kept your tone innocent, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t motive behind the question beyond being helpful to a customer.

“Erm, no, for my mum actually,” a blush crept up the man’s neck, dusting his cheeks along with it and accentuating his freckles. “Well then might I suggest not getting these,” you gestured towards the red salvia’s, “as they typically symbolize meaning ‘forever mine’, not quite sure that’s best for mum.”

You gave him your sweetest smile and he returned a nervous one, scratching the back of his neck, “What, erm, do you suggest then? It’s her birthday tomorrow, my mum, that is, I just wanted to get her something nice.”

You tapped your finger against your lips as you thought, glancing around the shop to create a beautiful and meaningful piece in your head. “How about…” you trailed off walking up to the marigolds and grabbing a handful, “and a little of…” you grabbed a small batch of chamomile, “oh and definitely…” you grabbed some fully bloomed clematis, “and lastly…” you grabbed some columbine.

The man watched and you arranged it all in a beautiful glass vase, the purples, whites and yellows dancing together perfectly. He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as he watched you work. “Stunning,” he breathed, “What does it all mean?”

You clapped your hands together in excitement, explaining pieces was one of your favorite parts of your job. “So, the marigolds here,” you pointed to the flame colored flower, “are her birth month flower and these here,” you pointed to the chamomile, “mean patience in adversity. I assumed because she was a boy mum that she probably dealt with a lot while you grew up,” you shot him a playful wink.

He laughed lightly at this, “You have no idea.” You continued, pointing next at the clematis, “These mean mental beauty, which is simply true for any mother, and these here,” you pointed at the white flower surrounded by what looked like a purple shell and leaves, “are columbine flowers, they represent foolishness.”

The man quirked an eyebrow at this one, “And why, pray tell, did you pick these?” You bit your lower lip slightly, “Well, you look awfully close to the moving character atop the joke shop across the street, so I just assumed you probably own it. Thus the additive of some foolishness representation.”

He smirked at your explanation, leading you to believe that you were correct in your assumption, “Would you believe me if I told you I was born on April fools?” You giggled lightly, “I would expect nothing less coming from the man who owns a joke shop. What is it called again?”

The man smiled proudly now, “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.” You looked at him curiously, “So is that your name? Weasley?”

He nodded, “Surname. My first name, however, is George.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, George.” You smiled sweetly, then turned to your register, “That’ll be ten galleons.” His smile never faltered as he dug into his pocket, pulling out the coins needed.

He grabbed the vase, walking towards the door. As he was halfway out, he turned back to you, “I just realized that I told you my name, but you never told me yours.” You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess you’ll have to ask when I stop in your shop next time.”

George raised his eyebrows, liking the bit of mischief you were flirting with, “Alright, guess I’ll see you then, love.” With a wink, he was out the door.

—--------

Fred stood at the top of the steps, watching the smiling faces roam around his shop. He loved the kids faces as they discovered a new way to prank, a new toy to cause chaos, or how he could see the light switch in their eyes when they saw something on the shelves that had them plotting.

He and George would get the same look when they were younger. Godric, they get that same look still to this day, they just try their best to choose the appropriate time and place for their shenanigans.

What his shop did not often get were beautiful women exploring his shop and looking at… “Puking pastilles?” He looked at you curiously, but you hadn’t yet lifted your head from the package.

“Seems like they’d come in handy for the family dinner I’m trying to avoid tonight,” Fred laughed with you and you finally turned to look at him.

“Well, you’re certainly not George are you,” your smile was sweet as Fred cocked an eyebrow at you. “And how could you possibly be certain of that, darling?”

You looked up at the man in front of you, he looked exactly like George, very obviously a twin brother. However if you paid attention enough, there were subtle differences. You didn’t inform George of this last week but you had noticed him before he walked into your shop that day.

There were quite a few times you had spotted him through your front window, leaving or coming to work, always dressed colorfully and having a smile on his face. When he smiled the corners of his eyes wrinkled just a little, his eyes downturned just slightly more than the man in front of you.

But the thing that really gave it away you had noticed just last week, when he was finally close enough for you to really see him properly. Staring into friends eyes you smiled, patting his chest, “George has a beauty mark on his neck, right here.” You pointed towards the spot where George’s mark was on Fred’s neck.

Fred’s smile seemed to grow impossibly wider, “You’re the flower shop girl aren’t you.” He said it more like a statement rather than a question. “Y/n,” you corrected.

The redhead laughed, “Oh Georgie is going to hate that I learned your name before him.” You shook your head, “Is Georgie here?”

Fred nodded, “Yeah, boyo’s here alright, but I’m really relishing in me getting to learn more information about the girl he’s been pining after before he does.”

He was hoping to embarrass his twin a little, so what you said next instead had Fred a bit shocked. “Well I’m glad the feeling has been mutual,” your tone and smirk quite impressed Fred.

When you looked over his shoulder he turned, seeing his twin on the upper level of the shop, “If you’ll excuse me, not George-”

“Fred,” he interrupted. You smiled, “If you’ll excuse me Fred, I’m going to go find George.”

Fred watched as you sauntered up the staircase, George still none the wiser as he helped a few customers out. As you made it to the top you stood behind him and started speaking, his ears perking at the sound of your voice, “Got anything here to get out of a dinner party?”

George turned around, sly smile on his face, “Have you looked into puking pastilles?” You held up the box in your hands, “Ah yes, that’s what the other George suggested.”

The smile on George’s face quickly turned to laughter, “The other George?” You nodded, “You didn’t tell me you had a twin; Fred was it?”

He nodded, leaning a hand on the railing beside him now, “And you still haven’t told me your name. I’ve been referring to you as flower shop girl in my head all week.”

Your grin widened, knowing now (thanks to Fred) that George had probably been referring to you as that for a lot longer than a week, “Y/n. My name’s Y/n.”

“S’beautiful,” George was bold, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Fred watched from a few floors below, mentally patting his brother on the back for pulling out the moves they used to use in school.

#george weasley #george weasley blurb #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #weasley twins #harry potter #golden era

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prince-kallisto · 2 months

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Dire Crowley: The Serpent and the “gift” of the Forbidden Fruit

I’ve been seeing a lot of interesting comparisons about Crowley’s repeated mention of apple trees in his new vignette to the “forbidden fruit” from Biblical lore. I had a bit of a lightbulb moment the more I thought about it! Σ੧(❛□❛✿) My take on the idea is certainly far from perfect haha, there’s a lot of gaps in the technicalities of it all, but I do think there is a connection between Crowley, the serpent, and the Forbidden Fruit 👀

Apples have been a repeated (although subtle) motif of Crowley’s for quite some time. The courtyard at NRC is riddled with apple trees, his vacation shirt depicts them as well, and it’s been heavily implied long before his vignette that he is the one who takes care of these trees. Additionally, the ever-so ominous opening animation depicts quick flashes of a bitten apple on the ground, much like the scene in Snow White when she takes a bite of the Poisoned Apple and falls into a death-like sleep.

In Crowley’s new vignette, it first begins with him making a whole speech about how the apple trees in the courtyard thrive no matter the hardships and seasons, and how they’ve grown before he knew it- much like his students! The students are oblivious to what he actually means by this, repeatedly mocking him and messing up what fruit he’s talking about because they didn’t pay attention to his speech. But later, the vignette ends with the ominous Dire Crowley theme playing (same one as in the opening prologue), as he says “because you are all…my precious, precious apple trees.” His story begins and ends with apples! 🍎

The opening animation depicting the apple feels very symbolic- I don’t think it’s a representation of Book 5, aka the Pomefiore book at all! Neige and the themes of an apple’s temptation played a surprisingly meager role in that book, and he was given apple juice instead of an actual apple. And in the opening animation, there’s shots of a book, spilled ink, the bitten apple, the spindle, and Crowley sitting in Pomefiore’s (a replica of the Evil Queen’s) throne.

For a long time now, we have believed Crowley sitting in this throne meant his ties to the Evil Queen, like him being twisted from her crow. Which I am not discounting that idea by the way! 👀 But what if…this scene is meant to hint that Crowley is taking on the symbolic ROLE of the Evil Queen herself- and also the serpent from the Bible? The novel gives more details of his whip weaving and constricting like a snake, as if it were alive…

Because when thinking about the story of Snow White- she is an innocent maiden who is tempted by a fruit that is dyed with beauty and promise of good, while underneath it lies a creation that will harm her IF she eats it. Despite the dwarves warning Snow White to never take anything from strangers, the Evil Queen disguised in her crone form tempts her with the apple, and her biting the apple puts her in a death-like sleep. Isn’t this just a loose retelling/allusion to what happened with Eve and the serpent, and how the serpent reassured her the Forbidden Fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil wouldn’t harm her, despite God strictly forbidding her and Adam from eating it?

Side note, I’d like to mention how Crowley keeps saying how “kind,” how “magnanimous,” how “generous” he is. And in Twisted Wonderland, the Evil Queen is now called the FAIREST Queen

Apples symbolize knowledge, fertility, love, wisdom, and immortality (soon I will specifically talk about the apple symbolism in general for Crowley)! Serpents/snakes symbolize can symbolize evil, mischief, trickery, but there’s also a lot of potential positive associations in them as well. They can symbolize rebirth, wisdom, and fertility. This is post that goes more into a bit more detail about the snake imagery at NRC but the edges of the Dark Mirror and NRC logo depict the caudeceus- two serpents together that also represent negotiation/diplomacy and eloquence.

And going back to the novel description of Crowley’s binding Whip of Love, Lian mentioned that Crowley’s Whip of Love literally binds the students together in his vignette much like these threads do on the spinning wheel with the Diasomnia characters in the Book 7 trailer animation🤔 And I feel like when looking at all these images of the spinning wheel together, there is threads and thorns “weaving” and “binding,” much like Crowley’s whip of love. And in the novel, Grim also mistakes Crowley’s whip for a “string” 👀

So after ALL of this ANDJSJJD, the long story short is that I believe Crowley is the serpent, which the Evil Queen also plays a similar role of. I made a much more detailed analysis here going through every Book, but I feel like Crowley is secretly guiding the Overblots to happen. There is always a weakness each Overblotter has that Crowley manages to exploit. Even though I think Crowley’s potential end-game plans are meant for the good of everyone, there’s a lot of bad things and suffering that must be caused for even the possibility of a happy ending. In the Bible, the Serpent was said to be the most “subtle”, aka the most cunning of God’s creations, convinced Eve that the Forbidden Fruit would not kill her and Adam if they ate the fruit unlike what God claimed, and said that Eve would have the knowledge of everything.

And going back to the vignette, Crowley seems to almost lament how naive and sometimes foolish his students can be. They certainly have much to learn under him. They completely missed and disregarded his speech about the apple trees and their growth, and then the NPC students and Grim call him weak and try to taunt him- but then he comments on how they know so very little before whipping them into shape 🤣

Additionally, in that same vignette, he says that hard work and experience is what makes life so much sweeter instead of doing what just comes easy to you- apparently he even pops into Special Lessons all the time to purposefully frighten the students and get them to work harder! 🤣 And another a new voiceline also reveals he does not intervene with the student’s shenanigans because he wants them to grow as individuals and have their own autonomy. It’s as if Crowley desires his students to have freedom in every sense of the word- but not to have everything just given to them on a silver platter.

And if Crowley is indeed involved with causing the Overblots as I think he is, then it even furthers this idea. The students never actually died despite their magestone being tainted and Overblotting. They were certainly forced to realize the deeper pains and issues inside them, but they didn’t die. What Crowley is doing is not because he wants to hurt them, but for the growth they experience afterwards! Directly confronting these horrible things is what triggered a change in many, and we even get to see the core reasons at how they led to their Overblots.

What the Serpent essentially did was the same- it technically never lied, much like how Crowley is always telling half-truths. Adam and Eve discovered shame and fear, but they technically gained a lot more freedom and knowledge of everything, both good and evil, once cast out of Eden for how they disobeyed God.

What’s interesting to me is that this philosophy Crowley has directly contradicts Malleus’ philosophy when he Overblots in Book 7. Malleus practically quotes Revelation 21:4 of the Bible, saying he will create a world without pain, sorrow, and loss. Practically orchestrating everyone’s individual “Garden of Eden” in their dreams. And as we see in the peeks of Idia’s and Sebek’s dream, everything is so ideal that everything changes. As we see in Idia’s dream specifically, we presume that the “original” Ortho is alive and well, and has grown up and is attending RSA.

AND this is where Lilia becomes so fascinating in this book. Lilia’s dream is full of hardships- his life as a General, the hardships of war, the loss of Levan and Meleanor, the cruelty he received outside Briar Valley. But ALL of this was a necessary part of Lilia’s journey in adopting and raising Malleus. It was a harsh journey, but his life became so much sweeter by the end of it, where he even bursts into tears from how happy he is to have hatched Malleus. Earlier in the dream, we see him complain how he’d probably be responsible for babysitting Levan and Meleanor’s kid- but now he’s begging Malleus to hatch, saying he’ll do anything as long as Malleus can live, even sacrifice his own magic and lifespan to do so. (Credit to Otome Ayui on YouTube for the translations!)

I think it’s interesting how the events of Lilia’s dream is essentially Crowley’s philosophy. That pain and hard work is necessary to achieve one’s true potential- an idea that Malleus is not emotionally ready to comprehend yet. I wonder if Crowley will play a role in Book 7 to lure everyone out from their “Gardens of Eden” that Malleus has created? 🤔 Because now that I’m thinking about it more, the whole Garden of Eden think represents the loss of innocence and bliss in exchange for the knowledge of death and hardship- Twisted Wonderland starts with us essentially having schoolboy squabbles, and now in Book 7 we have witnessed literal war and the death of loved ones! Is it because we as the player took Crowley’s hand (or someone’s) in the opening on the game, slowly leading us down this story? 🤔

Birds are not the sort to coddle their young forever. Eventually, the fledgling gets pushed out the nest by their own parent to learn how to fly- this is Crowley’s “tough love” and the results of his forbidden fruits. Even if the fall is frightening, seemingly cruel and potentially deadly, fledglings learn how to use their own wings regardless! Crowley is giving that push to help his students fly, even if they can’t ever understand his admittedly tough yet well-meaning motives.

But if Crowley is the serpent AND the nurturer of the Forbidden Fruit, who IS the Eve, and who/what is the Forbidden Apple? 🤔 After all, the role of the serpent relates to temptation- there must be someone he has to tempt in the first place.

This is where I get stuck, in all honesty! 🤣 There is so much about Crowley that we don’t know about yet, that his odd connections to apple trees are unknown. The apple symbolism aspects are quite interesting, especially for the Levan theory, so I will hopefully cover that tomorrow 🤔 But the literal concept of what the “forbidden fruit” could be is unknown to me.

…But I would like to add that the likely reason why the Forbidden Fruit became commonly known as an apple (the original text makes no mention of an apple at all) is because of either a misunderstanding or a pun of the Latin text. “Mâlum” is the Latin noun for Apple, and “Mālum” is the Latin noun which means Evil- and is derived from the adjective “malus.”

Evil…Meleanor…Maleficent…Maleficia…Mālum…Malus…MALLEUS???

…Isn’t it interesting that in the first part of his vignette, Crowley speaks of how an adolescent apple tree suddenly grew without him realizing despite its hardships…a speech where Malleus conveniently wasn’t invited to and never got to hear how proud Crowley was for his apple tree? And in Glorious Masquerade, Crowley speaks of being the one to “nurture” Malleus into the great and powerful mage he is today. Just like the apple trees Crowley frets over so much? 🤔🍎 I suppose in “original sin” terms of the forbidden fruit, Meleanor did “bless” Malleus to be a malevolent star to humankind???

And…another new voiceline has Crowley being concerned that Yuu seems to know no fear when they ask him about the extent of his powers. Yuu being seen as an almost naive figure that Crowley is worried about…Malleus and mâlum…I’m not sure anymore 😭🤣 Because it can go both ways as well!

I feel like I went all over the place with this theory! 😭 My brain is still trying to process everything that happened with Crowley today…I hope the general idea of what I’m trying to say made sense though! 😭 Everything I said is just a loose interpretation ^_^ I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts, as I felt like I kept confusing myself trying to figure this out 🤣🤣 I @moonlightequin1 made notes on a super interesting theory of Grim and Yuu being the Forbidden Fruit!! It makes me think of the headcanon/theory that if Crowley was Levan, he “gifted” Yuu to Malleus. Like a forbidden fruit of knowledge for Malleus?

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst theory #twst dire crowley #twst Crowley #twst spoilers #twst jp spoilers #twst malleus draconia #kallistopost #twst Lilia

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satirates · 10 months

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Seeing Pomme and Richarlyson together made me think a lot about their how their firsts days on the server gave them two completely opposite relationship with death. Analysis under the cut:

Both of them came on the server after the initial egg event and a long time after the precedent egg's death. They didn't get the ten days other eggs had when losing a life wasn't a big event. When they arrived, they had to adapt quick to insane mobs and code monsters. I think that the imminent danger was a leading point into forging their personality.

Richarlyson

Richarlyson lost a life his first day on the server. His parent were unaware of the danger the server represented, how powerful the mob are. It got reversed, but not forgotten.

Then, a couple of days later, he lost his first perma-life to bulls. If it was not because of the decision to give him his first life back, he would have been the egg to die the quickest on the server. The Brazilians were not given stuff to help them face the danger, they were barely warned. Only this death really made them realize how Richarlyson death was not a question of if, but when, if they continue to play like that.

So they created the project Immortalyson. They showed him how to fight, how to be brave, how to survive on this wild Island. They provide him with insane gears to protect himself, a whole TP system to get him out of danger fast, and are always ready to fight for him.

Richarlyson was confronted to death really early in his life. But it didn't make him scared, No... It made him live his life to the fullest. His whole personality his a good representation of "you only live once". He doesn't care if he dies, only that it will sadden his dad. So he doesn't let fear stop him from living his life like he wants, as dangerous has it sometimes look (with the armour and the sas and all X)

Pomme

Contrarily to Richarlyson, Pomme was made really aware of her impending death on the first day. Forever made sure to warn the French of the danger ahead. Maybe even a little too well. For the first two weeks, The French keep telling Pomme (and themselves) that she was going to be attack and maybe die. They didn't want to go anywhere with her alone, always made her go back to her room after an hour or so. They were really prudent and careful. Then she moved to the Ninho, and started her journal, which his a good insight in what she was feeling at the moment. She didn't understand why people were overprotecting her like that. People kept telling her to be afraid of something she didn't understand, so she was careful. But fear, at that point, was almost the only thing she knew.

Then the first and second code attack, the "nightmare" happen. She was finally confronted to that fear, seen it face to face. Reading her journal after that is really an angst fest, I'm telling you. She keep saying that she wanted to be more brave, but keep being scare by everything happening on the Island. She goes to dungeon with Étoiles, build, participate in lore. But fear is still driving the way she acts. She is almost never removing her armour except if people let her, even in safe places. She is really obedient, the last time she wasn't she was almost killed by the code. And fear has started to bleed into other part of her life. She is scare of conflict, of division, of death, of loosing people. Her character has been taught to fear the world before she even has the chance to explore it. And even if she's braver nowadays, we can still see how fear has impacted the way she developed.

In conclusion

Richarlyson early experience with death taught him to live his lives to the fullest, while Pomme's early experience with death taught her to live in fear of it.

#qsmp #qsmp french #qsmp brasil #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp pomme #long post #qsmp analysis

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axelsagewrites · 9 months

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Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targeryan #hotd daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon headcannons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

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lavender-romancer · 10 months

Text

Fools

Part Three

Tommy Shelby x Male Reader

CW: internalised homophobia, sexual themes

You always felt that you were hiding or running from deep inside of you, this feeling that you weren't like other men around you. When you met Tommy it made sense but how could you explore these feelings?

AN: Tommy is not married to Lizzie and Ruby does not exist

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

Tommy had been thinking about you from the moment you left. Lounging back on the sofa in his office he stared up at the ceiling, the shapes in plaster seemed to swirl and twirl into a portrait of your face. An imaginative representation of your beauty that followed Tommy throughout his office, he saw you in everything. Tommy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hearing your moans and feeling the weight of your body on top of him- he was already horny again.

For the remainder of the day Tommy knew that regardless of his shame, his secret, he had to be with you. He had to see you again, under whatever guise the two of you needed to use to be with one another. His mind was full of ways to see you again without raising suspicion. All he wanted was to hold you, comfort you, kiss you. Your lips had been so forgiving of his crimes and past indiscretions. This affection between the two of you was not perverted, it was not some sort of disgusting bohemian act. It was tender.

When Lizzie entered his office after knocking she found Tommy reclined on the sofa staring up at the ceiling and she smiled. "So how was your so-called meeting?" She asked with a smirk and Tommy rolled his eyes but focussed them back on the ceiling.

"It was…promising. You know how I've wanted to get into the arms business." Tommy could have almost smiled at his own coyness.

"Oh come off it. What was he like?" Lizzie asked, pulling a stool over from the side of the room and sitting near Tommy.

"It was…" he paused, trying to find any description he could give to represent your time together but he couldn't find one.

"That good?" Lizzie commented with a hint of jealousy after a few moments and Tommy let himself smile slightly.

"Don't tease." Tommy swung his legs round and sat up, looking at Lizzie.

"He looked proper terrified when I saw him." Lizzie had to hold in her laugh.

"I think he thought I brought him under false pretenses." He lit up a cigarette and breathed out smoke. "But you could tell otherwise, couldn't you?"

"I think I can always tell when someone is one of your strays, Tommy." Lizzie smiled softly and paused.

"He's not like the others, I can't pinpoint it yet. But I think it's altogether much more dangerous that he is different." Tommy stood up and walked over to his desk. "Set up a meeting for next week but tell him to meet me in the bar of his hotel tomorrow night." Tommy turned to look at Lizzie and she nodded before leaving.

The following day you weren't sure how to go through the motions of a normal day knowing that you would be seeing Tommy at the end of it. Everything seemed a means to an end of winding down the clock, nothing was interesting to you. You tried to read or listen to records or go on a walk but fuck, all you could think about was Tommy's smell, the feeling of his hand on your cock or how you internally ached for him. The need you had for him felt primal and yet all together soft. The animalistic nature of your sexual attraction was overpowered by a sense of comfort in his presence and that his embrace was a prerequisite for your complete happiness.

The validity of these thoughts troubled you for a while in the hours before you were to meet with Tommy. Was this a mental construction of your attraction and need for him? Or was it a genuine ache for him to be near you?

Regardless of this you got yourself ready to meet Tommy. Taking care that every part of your suit and your hair was meticulously laid out and formed perfectly. It was pathetically juvenile to want to impress him this way but you couldn't help it. You wanted his attention so badly that you were prepared to beg for it. The effect Thomas Shelby was having on you was altogether terrifying.

You sat in the hotel bar with an aged whisky in front of you as your heartbeat stayed in time with your rising anxiety. What if he didn't want this anymore? If he came here to end it or tell you to leave? These worries were so superficial you worried more for your own state of mind and lack of self worth. Either way you knew that if Tommy didn't turn up or this all ended it would take an unimaginable amount of effort to recover from it all.

"Sorry I'm late," you heard a voice behind you say and it felt like you let out a breath you'd been holding since you sat down.

"No, not at all, I-I hadn't been waiting long and-"

"What's going on with the whole," he gestured to you. "Anxiousness and that straight jacket of a suit." Tommy smiled and you felt the heat rise to your face.

"I… uh," You paused. "I came from a meeting and didn't have time to change."

"That's definitely a lie, Y/n." Tommy ordered a whisky and you laughed quietly.

"Well, I can't seem to hide anything from you." You loosened your tie and lit up a cigarette.

"I much prefer you in less clothing anyways." He said very quietly, so only you could hear and it felt like your breath got caught in your throat.

"What did you want to discuss?" You asked Tommy with more confidence in your voice.

"What our arrangement would be. I thought a public place would be easier but we can go to my house in Small Heath instead." Tommy drank some of his whisky and looked at you through the corner of his eye, gauging your reaction.

"I thought you made your wishes for these arrangements clear yesterday?" You asked, recalling his desire to fuck the shit out of you with a fondness.

"Yes, but the detail is just as important, how often we will see one another, where and when etcetera," Tommy took a deep breath and looked down. "I'm accustomed to the secrecy, the sneaking around but not this."

"And what is…this? At least to your understanding of it." You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"I believe I could feel things for you that I have never felt for anyone." Tommy didn't meet your gaze but he could guess your expression.

"This is what worries you? The possibility of a sort of emotional entanglement with me?" It would have offended you if public opinion wasn't so damning about men like you.

"It's not you specifically, it's what it could mean for me, and for you. The consequences of it all." Tommy tried to explain but you still didn't understand so you stayed silent. "I'm- we're not in a position to take this beyond sex." Your stomach felt like it had dropped and you turned back to your drink with a solemn expression.

"I see." You remarked in a way that felt very final, Tommy could feel the change in atmosphere between the two of you.

"This is not about you specifically its-" Tommy began but you interrupted him.

"I'd argue it's very much about me personally and I'm not going to sit through it." You sighed but didn't move.

"I only mean that…it has never been more than this for me and the whole concept of something further is absolutely terrifying." Tommy ran his hand through his hair nervously and you couldn't help but look at him with sympathy.

"We both know the risks. We both know who we could theoretically tell and who we couldn't. Men like us don't have the liberty of taking chances but I feel something else, I know you do too. That fucking- the connection." He continued and you looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I know, I felt it." You replied.

"I can't let this go. I physically can't." Tommy looked so incredibly anxious but also suspiciously horny….

"Does the depravity of this situation get you off, Mr Shelby?" You asked with a small grin.

"It most certainly does." He looked down.

"How do you feel about all of this? This thing between us?" You asked and Tommy looked inquisitively at you.

"I'm cautious about it. Which I suppose is in my nature." Tommy replied.

"I mean… I feel good about it. Also ridiculously guarded in my feelings but I suppose most people do." You replied and continued to look almost pleadingly at Tommy to just come up to your room, Tommy just took a drag of his cigarette.

"I can tell you're waiting for me to do something," Tommy spoke up and you tried to hide your intent but he only smirked, "You can try, but you'll never be able to hide your intent from me anymore. I'm inside your head with all my g**sy magic you see." He said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

"You absolutely are not in my head, I'm just a terrible liar with absolutely no poker face. Tommy, you're hardly facing up to someone of your caliber when relating to lying." You called over the waiter and ordered two more whiskeys.

"Even buying drinks for me? You must be trying to sweeten me up." Tommy raised his eyebrow and it made heat rise to your cheeks. It was at that moment of almost complete embarrassment that you decided to be completely reckless.

"When I finish this drink I'm going to my room, you're going to meet me there in five minutes." You said in hushed tones before downing your whiskey and walking out without a second glance.

The closer you got to your room, the higher your sense of anxiety got. What in all holy fuck had you just done? You weren't that confident at least not towards Tommy when alluding to sex. He made you feel inexplicably weak and submissive without doing anything remotely dominant. But this change of pace gave you a sense of control for once and as you closed your door behind you, you almost sighed in relief. Not being able to touch Tommy the way you wanted in public killed you ever so little each time.

You loosened your tie before pulling it off and unbuttoning your top two buttons, even your slightly oversized blazer felt constricting as your body ached for him. Everything was warm and uncomfortable, but you could hardly strip naked and just awkwardly wait for him in the room. Every minute felt like one more you couldn't handle, you wanted to run downstairs and pull him into your arms.

You sat down on the end of the bed and sighed, running a hand down your face and then gripping the bed frame. What were you doing? What was the point of all this skulking around with Tommy? The silence enabled you to examine how truly subdued you felt about it all. But then the knock came and you bolted upright, your mouth grew dry and your breath caught in your throat. As you walked slowly towards the door you couldn't help but get involuntarily excited about what awaited you on the other side.

"Tommy." You breathed as you opened the door, he looked you up and down before pushing back his hair and walking into your room. "I wasn't sure if you were going to–"

You were stopped by Tommy putting a hand around your throat and slamming you into the wall. Your eyes were wide and whilst you were unsure of what was happening, you couldn't help the hardness growing in your groin. His scent was just as intoxicating as the day before, making it impossible to focus. Tommy looked down and saw the bulge in your trousers, he looked up at you with a smirk and leant towards your ear.

"You love when I'm fucking rough with you, eh?" He asked and you unintentionally moaned whilst nodding.

Tommy tightened his grip slightly and your knees began to weaken with every squeeze around your throat. You couldn't explain why it felt so euphoric to you, but you hated control. Especially when it came to sex you didn't need to feel the pressure of having control.

"Get on your knees," Tommy released you from his grasp and turned around, removing his blazer and rolling up his white sleeves.

You quickly obliged his request and sat back on your heels on the floor with your hands clasped in your lap. When Tommy turned around he looked pleased, he lay a hand on your cheek and ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You took advantage of the position and licked his thumb whilst looking up at him. Tommy only smirked as he took off his trousers and let his briefs fall to the floor. It wasn't surprising to you that Thomas Shelby had a big dick, but it didn't make it any less beautiful. You slowly leant forward and placed your hand at the base whilst pushing him into your mouth, Tommy let out a moan that sounded like he had been holding in for years. As if he was finally somewhere he needed to be.

He came quicker than you imagined but after you swallowed and wiped your mouth you stood up and pulled him into your arms. Tommy gripped you so incredibly tight, his vulnerability after finishing was palpable and you weren't going to let him go.

Slowly, you led him over to the bed and lay down, pulling him on top of you. Tommy's head lay on your chest as he silently cried at the tenderness you showed him. You stroked up and down his shirt clad back, comforting him for as long as he needed it. Every now and then kissing him on the top of the head. This wasn't normal. Usually your sexual partners couldn't wait to leave, to avoid as much suspicion as possible when leaving a man's room that smelt of sex. But Tommy… he wouldn't let go. Not that you wanted him to leave but you had become so accustomed to it that you half expected him to reject your advances of aftercare.

"Why isn't this right?" Tommy suddenly asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" You asked, stroking his hair.

"I mean, why is this affection between the two of us so wrong?" Tommy sounded like he was about to burst into tears so you shuffled down and lay next to him, turning on your side so you were face to face.

"It's not. You should know by now that just because one thing is viewed as wrong, it doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Take every liberty you want regardless of expectations." You told him, placing a hand on his cheek. He had this unfathomable ability to always look gorgeous regardless of his emotion or expression and whilst he lay here, eyes full of tears- he'd never looked so perfect.

"I might be a godless perverted heathen, but you're a fucking angel." Tommy whispered before pulling you into an aggressive kiss. He pulled you on top of him, one hand behind your neck, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was so loving and needy at the same time because you both knew opportunities for this type of affection didn't happen as often as you'd like. Most of the time there was a great deal of sneaking around but in this moment, you felt like all of this could be infinite.

next part

Peaky Blinders taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

Series taglist:

@denzellovehazelnuts

@edgyboi10000 @strnqer @arsoniscommited @flynnr2d2

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didhewinkback · 1 year

Text

Something Old

Written for @harry-on-broadway's fic challenge.

Written prompt used: "What's this, then?"

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

A/N: the pic represents more of an overall vibe rather than a definite representation of what he is wearing. but the vibes of the pic are absolutely accurate. some liberties have been taken with accurate chronology of his dating life bc this is fiction town usa baby. takes place during the fine line era, in a world with no covid. dream world. please let me know what you think!

-----

There was a huge water fountain, right in the middle of the hotel courtyard, making criss-cross patterns into the pool below and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It was soothing, in a way. Or at least you were trying to force the concept of being soothed upon yourself, trying to focus in on the sounds of the water and the lights reflecting off of it. Anything to not think about the background noise of the party, of the clinking glasses and what that sound would mean, to think of him – nope. Back to the fountain.

Your mother cleared her throat. Her eyes had been burning holes into the side of your face but you couldn’t face her or that look of pity in her eyes. Your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase as you kept your eyes on the water. Just keep staring at the water.

“Did you call an Uber or…?”

“I’m just going to take the rental back to the city and go from there.”

“You could always take it back to the house. Bit of a drive but…”

The thought of walking into your childhood home, alone, while his own childhood home sat right next door was too much to bear. “I don’t,” you cleared your throat as your voice caught, “I don’t think I can be surrounded by all those memories. God, Mum, this is so embarrassing –”

“Oh, baby, no. Come here” Your mom rushed over to you and wrapped her arms around you in a death grip as you let yourself collapse into her arms, feeling 8, 15 and 26 all at once. The tears which you had been trying to save for the drive poured out of you, your mum shushing you as you buried your face into her shoulder. She stood there and held you tight, letting you release all the emotions you had pent up since you got here. You had never had an explicit conversation with her about your true feelings for Harry but with the way she was holding you, you knew you never had to. She knew. The thought made you tighten your arms around her, burying your head a little deeper as the tears flowed. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m getting your dress soaked,” you said, trying to pull your head away and pull yourself together before your mum tightened her arms around you, holding you in place.

“Could give two shits about my dress.” “Mum!” “I’m serious, I don’t care. Not when my baby is weeping in my arms.”

“Okay, I’m hardly weeping,” you huffed a laugh as you took a step back and wiped your face, looking into your mum’s kind eyes, glassy in their own right.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Tell him what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head before she even finished her sentence. You had tried that, years ago. Winter break 2013. He had been gone almost two years, touring and traveling the world while you watched from afar at uni. You had walked down your stairs, rehearsing your big speech in your head while smoothing down the new skirt you bought for the occasion, only to look up and find him in your living room with the most famous pop star in the world in his arms. He had brought her home to “meet the family” he said. Which included you. You were just family. And he dated pop stars now. A gut punch that you quickly healed with copious amounts of tequila. And a drunken hookup with a boy from sixth form. It was fine. You were fine.

You had been best friends since you were 8, neighbors since you were 6, and for years you brushed off your crush, chocking it up to an extension of affection for your first male friend - the boy who made you laugh until you cried, who always needed help with math homework, who dragged you onto the dance floor when everyone else was too nervous to at that first school dance. The boy who stood in front of you in his bedroom, nervously singing along to a Youtube track before asking you if this was something you thought he could do, for real. The boy who invited you to join him a few weeks each summer, riding bikes through muggy Colorado streets for late night froyo or hiking those Hollywood hills. The boy growing into a man who called you when you were studying at the library, in the middle of the night halfway across the world, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure and needing a piece of home to slow his exhausted, racing mind.

This crush was something you thought you would grow out of. Except you didn’t. His life had become drastically different than the one you two had shared in your small hometown but whenever you were together, it was like no time had passed. After that fateful winter break, you had tried to keep your distance but each time you saw him, you were sucked right back in.

There had been more moments - falling over yourselves during a drunken McDonalds run, or during a screaming match in the middle of a very competitive round of charades, or when he bounded off stage after that first solo night at MSG, wrapping you in his arms and holding tightly - moments where the words were about to burst from your chest, overwhelmed by the love you felt for him. But you knew it would never work - he wasn’t interested. And, even if he was, you were nowhere near his league. Even his one night stands were straight off the Forbes 500 list. Not that you were ashamed of yourself or who you had become, you just knew, for many reasons, that there was a disconnect there. He wasn’t interested. You were family. You had to keep it that way.

You steeled yourself to get over it, to be okay with just being his friend. And you had convinced yourself it worked. You had met his girlfriends over the years; no longer tearing yourself apart in comparison as you blossomed into that confidence that comes with getting older and finding your place in the world. Falling into relationships with some really great guys, guys that you really cared for, who made you laugh and met your family on your birthdays. But no matter how hard you tried, those relationships always seemed to fizzle out because you never felt that spark. That once in a lifetime spark. That spark you felt the second you saw him yesterday - a smile blooming across his face as his arms lifted up in a cheer when he locked eyes with you. All that hard work shot to shit in an instant.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head more fiercely, desperately trying to get those memories to fall out of your head forever. “That’s not how he sees me, Mum. It’s not - this is just something I have to get over. But I can’t do it here.”

Her face fell, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Okay,” she said, looking at you with new determination. “So, what’s the story? Work emergency? Appendicitis? Stomach virus? Uncontrollable pooping?”

“Mum! Oh my god!”

“What?!” she shrugged, her eyes glowing with a playful twinkle as she watched the smile grow on your face. “I just feel like the more details we provide, the more believable it will be.”

“Whatever you have to do,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pulled her into another hug.

“It’ll be okay, lovebug,” she whispered in your ear. “This pain won’t last forever. He’s not the be all, end all.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” you said softly, tightening your arms around her, unable to stop yourself when more tears began to fall. “I really have to get going, I don’t want anyone to see -”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got progressively louder as the doors swung open. Your stomach sank as you heard the last voice you wanted to hear. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two. Ang? - Oh. ”

“Yeah?” Your mom turned to face him, blocking you from view as you furiously wiped away your tears.

“Mum’s been looking all over for you. Something about a bet involving tequila shots…”

“Ah, was hoping she’d forget about that. Tell her I’ll be in in a bit, just need to help this one -”

You cleared your throat, keeping your head down as you nudged her forward. “No, Mum, it's fine. Go in. I’ll be okay.”

She turned to look at you, eyes searching. “But you’re not feeling. well.” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on your forehead. Oh, god. No Oscar in her future then.

You looked at her, feeling his eyes on you, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Really. Have fun”.

“Love you.” She kissed you on the cheek as she squeezed your hand, whispering, “Be brave”.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you heard her walk inside, closing the doors behind her. Enveloping the two of you in silence. You looked up, taking him in for the first time all night. He knocked the wind out of you.

His white suit was tailored to perfection, the dress shirt open in a deep v down his chest, revealing the smattering of tattoos that you swore he’d regret one day, but that only looked perfectly in place as his muscles grew more defined. His hair, curls tousled just the way you liked it. The smattering of scruff along his chiseled jawline, held tightly as he took in the scene in front of him. He looked good.

You can’t imagine what you looked like. Tear tracks streaking down your face and hair messy from how often you had been nervously running your hands through it. Dressed for a cocktail hour while wearing your sneakers for the quick getaway. You had to get the fuck out of here.

“Thought only the bride was supposed to wear white.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. This was not the time for banter. You should be in the car already, leaving all this behind you. You snuck a look at his face, his green eyes locking with yours, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked right at you, his deep voice rumbling as he shot back, “Wanted to be dramatic. It’s my day too.”

“Classic H.” you said. You could not get your feet to move. Your car was no more than 10 paces away and yet here you were, frozen under his questioning gaze.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked, as he took in your suitcase, the car keys fiddling around in your hand. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Uh, a work emergency came up.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it’s not -”

“Your mum just said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shit. “Both things are true. H, please just - I have to go.”

“No, I think I have the right to know why my best mate is leaving my wedding weekend early. Why you’re standing out here with your mum and - are you - were you crying?” He looks desperately confused, eyes searching your face. “Need you to talk to me.”

He takes a few steps towards you when he notices your hands visibly starting to shake. “Hey, hey…” He reaches his hands towards yours as you quickly put your hands on your suitcase, pulling it towards you. You take a few steps back and try to take a few steadying breaths.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice when you're gone. Haven’t been able to find you all night, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Wanted to spend time with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the look on his face, trying to not think too hard about those words. Trying to be casual, nonchalant. Trying to be anything but the crumbling mess you were in front of him. “C’mon, I’m not even in the wedding party it’ll be better -”

“Is that what this is about? You knew we were keeping it small on purpose, didn’t think you needed to be in the bridal party to know how much y’mean to me but I guess–”

Anger suddenly swirled in you, turning your cheeks warm, eyes blazing. As if you’d be out here having a full mental breakdown over something so trivial. You scoffed, “You think I’m out here crying because of some arbitrary fucking title? You know that’s never mattered to me when it comes to you.”

“Then WHAT is going on with you?”

“Can you please just drop it and let me –”

“It’s my fucking wedding, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. I need you here and you’re just standing outside with your car keys and your fucking suitcase like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing–

“Oh my god, how can you even say that – ”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’m flying blind here you won’t TALK to me–”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU MARRY HER!”

The words were loud, louder than you meant them and out faster than you could stop them. Fuck. This was. Not. How This. Was supposed to go. You shut your eyes. Your mind was racing, mouth trying to move to make an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything and then you hear a derisive snort, your eyes flying open to see his, suddenly colder, taunting.

“‘S that what this is about, then? Never did like her, did you? Always wondered when we’d have this conversation. Thought you may have been a little more fair and try to do it before my wedding weekend but hey, guess I’m not the only one who can be dramatic.”

You stood there, gaping at him, tears pricking your eyes as he glared back at you.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s so wrong with her?”

Oh, he misunderstood. You could let him think this is the truth, that you’re just some bitchy childhood friend who never approved of the fiancée and waited until the last moment to make a dramatic exit. You could leave right now and let him think that. But he needed to know the truth, as painful as it may be. You began to shake your head, the tears seconds from pouring out.

“No, that’s not - you’re not understanding me.”

“Am I not? Seems pretty clear to me” His tone was still taunting, angry. He had every right to be. This was supposed to be the biggest weekend of his life and here he was, out here with you, instead of partying with all of his loved ones mere feet away. The thought of it made the tears spill over, a small sob escaping you. Through the tears you saw his face drop, his brows furrowing.

“It’s not her. She’s lovely. She’s so lovely and you should be in there with her. You could be marrying fucking Beyonce and I wouldn’t be okay with it. I … I can’t watch you marry someone else without - without wishing it was me instead.”

You watched as he froze, his eyes widening. In shock? Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure.

You took a deep breath and kept going, continuing to dig yourself into the grave of your own making. Every part of you was screaming at you to stop, but now that you got started, the words kept coming, “I’ve been in love with you since we were like 15. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I…god, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes. You’re the first person I want to make laugh with a new lame joke, the first person I want to share good news with. The first person I want to do anything with. You’re kinda it for me. Always have been. You’re just my favorite person in the world. And I –”

You shook your head, cutting yourself off. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your cheeks burning. You stand there, slightly panting, watching him watch you, his own eyes glassy, his own breath coming in fast spurts. Neither of you dared to move.

You stand there, watching as your confession explodes between the two of you, helpless to do anything but stand in the carnage. It is deadly silent. A minute passes, then another. It could be five, it could be twenty. What did you just do?

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.”, you said frantically, your brain finally catching up to your mouth. “You should go back inside. I’m –”

He inhales sharply, head shaking in disbelief, “Y’think - y’think I’m going to go back in there right now? After–? Fuck.”

He drags his hand down his face, bringing his other hand to meet it and standing there with his head in his hands. You wish you could get a good read on him, to tell how he’s feeling, but you just stand there, heart beating wildly, in disbelief of what you have done.

“I’ve got a reception hall full of people here.”

“I know.”

“People traveled for this.”

“I know.”

“Why - why now? I had no fucking idea. Why’d you never tell me before?”

“I tried, but the timing was never right – ”

“Yeah, well, your timing right now is impeccable,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, though his sense of humor reappearing made a zing of hope run through you. Maybe he won't hate you forever. Maybe, one day, the friendship could be salvaged. Maybe you didn’t just embarrass yourself beyond belief - though your burning cheeks indicate otherwise.

He clears his throat, pulling you out of your racing mind. “This whole time…you’ve felt this way? This whole time?”

You had been expecting to confess and run. For him to smile politely at you, let you down easy. You had spent your whole life believing this was a one sided thing. But here he was, looking utterly wrecked, his green eyes never once wavering from yours.

“Yes, H,” you told him. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

You watch as his face crumbles slightly. He brings a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, a mumbled, shaky “fuck” leaving his lips.

You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes, praying your waterproof mascara is doing its job. As much as you want to live in this fantasy of possibilities, you can’t let yourself make more of a mess of this than you already have. He was getting married. Tomorrow.

“H, the last thing I ever wanted to do is ruin this for you”, your voice shakes the more you look at him, “I will be fine. You should go back inside. I’m going to go.” You grab your suitcase and keys and start to make your way to the car. The sound of his voice calling your name stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking.

You turn to face him, finding him staring right back at you. His glassy eyes ablaze, his jaw set. You don’t make a sound.

“Please.” He closes the distance between you in a few quick strides. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to your jaw. You’re sure he can feel the warmth there, blooming at his touch. You lock eyes with him, both of you barely breathing. After a second, his thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his hot breath on your lips, the smell of mint and tequila filling your nose. You might pass out.

“This is a lot to process,'' he whispers.

“I know.” You try to pull your head back a bit to give him space, but he holds you steady in his grip. His other hand falls to your waist, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact.

“I have to go back in there. Supposed to get married tomorrow,” he whispers as his thumb starts to draw circles on your hip bone. You’re sure even he can hear your heartbeat at this point, the way it’s thundering in your ears.

“Y-you don’t owe me anything, you know”, you whisper back, his brow furrowing as he feels your breath on his lips. “Just because I told you. There’s no pressure or anything. I know, like… I’m not….I’m not expecting - I should -”

He takes a step closer to you, pulling you flush against him, effectively cutting you off. “Don’t. You can’t. ‘S not pressure, I just - I don’t know”, he takes a deep breath, “I need time. Please. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go back in there but don’t leave tonight. Please.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“Please.” His words fall across your lips as he moves to kiss your other cheek.

“Fuck. I wish…just - please don’t go.” He leans in slowly, kissing you once on the neck, right below your ear, inhaling deeply. His forehead falls to your collarbone, resting there. “You can’t go, not yet. Not until…Please. I need time to think. I don’t know. Promise me you’ll still be here later tonight.”

He lifts his head, holding eye contact with you until you nod, bringing your hand up to wrap around his wrist, moving your thumb in soothing circles. He stares at you, eyes dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His grip on your hip tightens, his eyes dropping to your lips once more.

You hear glasses tinkering, calls of his name. Shit. You take a step back, his hand sliding from your jaw to your wrist, holding a loose grip. Your cheeks burning at how caught up in the moment you got, head reeling at what this could all mean.

“I have to -” “I know.”

He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead, not once letting go of your wrist.

He steps back, his glassy eyes flitting all over your face before meeting yours once more and holding your gaze. “You’ll be at the hotel later tonight? You promise?”

“I promise,” you say, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

He nods sharply, walking backwards towards the door, eyes never leaving yours. He stops right before the entrance, quickly wiping at his eyes, shaking his head. You can see him physically brace himself as he pulls the door open, a tight smile on his lips as he gets pulled into the party once more.

The doors close, once again surrounding you with silence. With your own thoughts. The feeling of his lips on your neck playing over and over again in your mind.

Holy. Shit.

#harry styles fan fiction #harryonbroadwayficchallenge #harry styles angst #would u believe this was supposed to be posted 3 hours ago but i got so hung up on one detail that i couldnt iron out #i am a gal who loves run on sentences with commas and for that i will not apologize #fic rec #babys first fic #cant believe we are here #harry styles fic #i have read this so many times i started to hate it thats when ya know its time to post #just losing it in the tags over here #something old

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jaskiersbard · 11 months

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Fuck JK Rowling but it makes me so angry to think we could have had a complete Fantastic Beasts series with an autistic lead who isn’t a total stereotype, who is loveable, who has a love interest instead of just being infantilised…and instead we’re getting a seven season Harry Potter reboot/remake that no one asked for or wanted on HBO Max.

When I was going through the process of my autism diagnosis, feeling anxious and worried about what being diagnosed would mean, knowing that Newt Scamander - a character who is adored by so many in a major franchise - was being played as autistic helped me tremendously. I saw much of myself in Newt, and it made me feel seen that an autistic person like myself could be the hero, that Newt wasn’t a joke or stereotype. It was so important to me coming to terms with my diagnosis that a character I loved was like me and not limited by being autistic.

I’ve mentioned this before but on the opening day of Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore in the UK, there was a boy on the row in front of me. When Newt came onscreen, he started bouncing and flapping his hands excitedly - like me, he was autistic and saw himself represented on the big screen.

“But Luna Lovegood” - you know what, controversial but fuck your “but Luna Lovegood”. Her actress sided with the TERF, and Luna is NOT confirmed to be autistic, it’s just a popular fan headcanon. Meanwhile Newt Scamander has been confirmed by Eddie Redmayne (not JKR, fuck her) to be on the spectrum. I’m not saying she definitely isn’t because I can definitely see it, and it’s wonderful autistic people can relate, but I’m talking about a character who is intentionally written and portrayed as autistic instead of just fan headcanons.

What does having a love interest have to do with this? Believe it or not, this isn’t me just being a shipper: too often are autistic people infantilised, as if we can’t love other people or that people are incapable of loving us. But - as anyone following me most likely knows - Newt Scamander has a love interest, Porpentina “Tina” Goldstein, who he’s canonically married to in the future. They even have a grandson who is called Rolf and marries the aforementioned Luna.

In the three films, we only got a few scenes (and then JK Rowling cut Tina out because Katherine Waterston called her out on multiple occasions for being a transphobe) of Newtina but what we got showed that not only is Newt capable of forming a romantic attachment but also Tina clearly loves Newt as he is, quirks and all. She understood his odd compliment of “salamander eyes” because she knows his special interest is magical creatures and it’s his way of saying he adores her eyes. She read his book and genuinely made an effort to learn because she knew magical creatures were important to him, and we saw her grow from thinking he was writing an “extermination guide” to giving him the name for his book, “Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them”. My girl Tina LOVES Newt for who he is and always has, and that’s beautiful.

Seeing an autistic person not only fall in love - he spends the whole of the 2nd and 3rd films lamenting on how beautiful she is, talking about her and with her picture in his pocket/suitcase - but also being loved for who they are is something so rarely seen and is so important.

I’ll be the first to hold my hands up and say that the second and third Fantastic Beasts movies weren’t the greatest, by the way. I will agree to that. The first one seems like a damn masterpiece in comparison, even with its problems, but I’m still angry.

The fact that JK Rowling’s bigotry has contributed to losing this rare example of autistic representation in a major mainstream franchise is something no one talks about when discussing her actions, and it hurts that no one seems to care about canon autistic representation.

#this was prompted by me rewatching the first two films whilst sick last week #I tweeted this out last week but felt it relevant to post here #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #eddie redmayne #autism #actually autistic #tina goldstein #porpentina goldstein #katherine waterston #newtina #fantastic beasts: the crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beasts: the secrets of dumbledore #newt x tina #anti jk rowling #anti jkr #radfems dni #terfs dni

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friends-to-lovers-tournament · 10 months

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PRELIMINARY POLL 2: THE OWL HOUSE

hello owl house fandom! out of all the ships you guys submitted, soba and i have narrowed it down to these three: aladarius, huntlow, and raeda. as per a previous post where we said we'll only be letting a maximum of 2 ships per fandom into the tournament, we're doing this poll to determine which ship(s) will represent your fandom. we haven't fully finalised the shortlisted ships yet, so based on the results either the top 1 or top 2 ships will be selected

also let us know if you guys have any preferred images for your ship(s)! i just plucked these from the shipping fandom wiki

propaganda for the ships are under the cut!

-mod deli 🎀

Aladarius:

Ahhhhhh, so many thoughts; where to begin? Well, first off, they were absolutely childhood friends and were practically attached at the hip for years and years. When they finally started dating around mid to late teens, they literally only changed labels and that was it. After a falling out and a messy breakup (and y'know alador getting married to someone else), it seemed like all was lost. after all, they were desperately trying to lessen contact with stark animosity between them. but after the day of unity, everything changed. with character arcs and divorce papers galore and maybe they began on speaking terms. and then friendly terms. and then back to where they were before, bickering like an old married couple. and then *being* an old married couple. yeah. gotta love the magical slime dilfs ◡̈

Huntlow:

They’re just. SO CUTE!! Hunter develops a crush on Willow first. When they first met, he was just looking to recruit more people into the emperor’s coven, and he thought she and some others would be a good fit. They played flyer derby together (a sport in the demon realm), and it was the first time he’d actually been able to have fun with people his age. His original plan was still in play so Willow and the others on the team got taken and put into custody so they could be put into the emperor’s coven. However, at this point Hunter felt incredibly bad. In the end, he broke the rules and got them out of there. He was prepared to be hated, but Willow and the others forgave him. I think at this point is when he started developing feelings for her. This guy, who talks so much people can see through his disguises because of his voice, will get SO quiet and blushy when she’s nearby. He knew there was an illusion when the illusion acted scared and shy because he saw her as the strong, courageous witch she is. She saw his cringe outfits and cosplay and took a picture for her scrapbook and called it a look. She winked at him and he blushed and smiled this goofy smile. When she finally broke down after trying to keep a brave face for the others, he comforted her. I think somewhere around here she started developing feelings too. They held hands!!! She said “you mean a lot to me too”!!! They mean so much to me.

Raeda:

NONBINARY REPRESENTATION DISABILITY REPRESENTATION TOGETHER AND HAPPY IN THE END They met as kids and got along from the start. They barely knew each other and still defied the orders of a representative of the EMPEROR so they wouldn't fight each other (they literally DANCED on the face of authority together. They eventually became lovers and broke up. Many years later found each other again and still loved each other so so much. I'm gonna repeat myself, but a disabled, chronically ill character and a nonbinary carachter have a friends to lovers story with a happy ending in a DISNEY ANIMATION. What else could you want?

#the owl house #aladarius #huntlow #raeda #mod deli 🎀#ftl admin stuff #ftl prelim poll #neither soba nor i are familiar with the owl house so if we made any mistakes please kindly point them out! <3 #also i probably don't have to say it but please be nice to the ships you didn't vote for and those who did vote for them <3

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sailoryooons · 2 years

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Suga's How-To Guide | Mouthful | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Camboy!Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes.

☾ Word Count: 941

☾ Genre: Friends to lovers, pwp

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. receiving) spit play, hand jobs, playing with Min Yoongi's perfecr bawls, voyeurism, sexual on acts in front of a live audience (on camera), sex work

☾ Published: August 8, 2022

☾ A/N: I don't know, I just wanted some sloppy toppy and this series is supposed to be more drabble-style like this anyway. Enjoy :)

beta’d by the love of my life @here2bbtstrash who I keep forgetting to tag like a very bad friend ily M

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

“Fuck just like that,” Yoongi groans, head tilting back. His throat is flush, chest rising and falling unsteadily like the rapid beating of your heart. “God dammit, I don’t need to teach you shit.”

Yoongi doesn’t. Sucking cock is something you know you’re good at. You’ve done it enough times and you enjoy the way it makes your partners fall apart. You enjoy the way it makes them stutter, the way their words slow together and you can feel their muscles jump, body reacting before their mind can.

And Yoongi is beautiful to watch.

Drool slicks out of your mouth, making the glide down his thick cock easier. Your tongue runs along the underside of his cock as your mouth slides down his considerable length again, watching him through your lashes as he bites his bottom lip.

What you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump slowly with your right hand, adding a gentle twisting motion when your lips near your fist. It’s wet and messy, tears trickling down your cheeks when you take him deep into the back of your throat, his tip brushing against your soft palate.

Yoongi is a vision. Lips bitten and turned a shade of strawberry, hair pressed against his sweaty brow. There are marks on his neck, blooming like hyacinths from your greedy mouth.

Even now, your left-hand digs marks into the meat of Yoongi’s thigh, his muscle flexing as one of his hands grips the back of your head. His fingers apply pressure to your scalp, but he doesn’t force you down on him more. His fingers are needy, begging, desperate. He doesn’t fuck up into your mouth, but you can tell he wants to.

But that’s not what today’s session is. Today’s session is about how to suck cock, and Yoongi provides a stream of conscious, mumbled commentary when he can remember that he has viewers.

You’re determined to make him forget.

Yoongi has lost himself in the heat of your mouth again. You moan around him, popping him out of your mouth to kitten lick the tip of his cock. And fuck – his cock is perfect like the rest of him. Even as he slowly pulled the zipper down at the beginning of the stream, you knew.

The fact that your face is now on camera as much as Yoongi’s is doesn’t cross your mind. Not when he lets out a whine as your tongue licks his slit. Not as you gather the spit in your mouth, letting it drip on the head, Yoongi’s cock glossy and dark and swollen.

“Fuck, where do you want me to cum?” it comes out breathless. Yoongi’s breath is heaving, the hand propping him up tangled in the sheet of his bed. His thighs are quaking and his eyes are squeezed shut, long lashes stark against his cheeks. “Gonna cum soon.”

You suckle on the tip, humming contentedly. “My mouth,” you murmur after letting go of the tip with a lewd pop. “I can swallow.”

“God dammit,” he chuckles. His voice is raspy and deep. “Always- shiiiiit – always ask your partner where they prefer you – fuck – to cum.”

Yoongi keeps losing his train of thought, barely able to get the sentence out to inform his viewers. You don’t care about them. You care about the way his dusky nipples are pebbled and the way his hips squirm on the bed as he fights off shivers driven by your hungry mouth.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he sighs, held tilted to the ceiling. For a moment, it looks like he’s praying, a warm glow from the ring light behind you making him glow at the edges. “Feels so good.”

Something akin to pride surges through you as you lick down his shaft, ducking down to give a teasing lick at his balls. Yoongi lets out a high-pitched sound. You look up at him, pausing and watching him as his eyes blink open to look down at you. He can barely keep them open, drowsy with pleasure.

“Oh?” you ask. A smile teases your lips and you give a gentle suck again before lifting to look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Baby.”

It’s a warning, but there’s a soft curve to his lips. Stroking his cock slowly, you dip back down, eyes fixed on his charcoal gaze as you gently run your tongue over the soft skin again, watching the way he can’t keep his eyes open.

You experiment, tongue inquisitive and seeing what other noises you can draw out of him. Yoongi collapses backward, laying down entirely on the bed. You remove your mouth and nip his thigh, teeth leaving pink crescents in his skin.

“I want to see you.”

“Fuck. You like watching me lose it?”

You lick the teeth marks on his thigh, hand pausing on his shaft and giving him a gentle squeeze. “Yes.”

His laugh is deep and scratchy. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi shuffles and props himself up by the elbows. His hair is sticking up everywhere, and his eyes are glassy, his round cheeks rosy. He looks so beautiful that for a moment, you’re not on your knees with a pillow under you, and there are not thousands of people watching you suck him off on camera.

Yoongi smiles at you, all gums and soft, crinkling eyes. “You’re pretty,” he murmurs. Heat crawls up your neck as you grunt, hiding your face by pulling his cock back into your mouth. He groans. “Fuck. I like having you around.”

You hum, satisfied. And when he does cum, he does it with a shout and going boneless as you grin around a mouthful of him.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#haliiimede writes #bts smut #bangtan boys #bts fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #suga bts #suga fanfic #suga smut #halishappyagust #sex worker au #minors dni #minors do not interact

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9leaguesofmirrors · 8 months

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My Favourite Reece Shearsmith Characters

So it's Reece Shearsmith's birthday today, so I decided to celebrate this by sharing some of my favourite characters played by this fantastically talented actor

These are in no particular order

Gregory Brewster - Him Indoors

Him Indoors is a short film about a serial killer with agoraphobia. Not only is the premise very interesting, Reece delivers a chilling yet very entertaining performance as the main character. It's on YouTube if you want to watch it, which I highly reccomend you do!

Tommy - Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room

This HAD to be on the list! Reece's performance as Tommy is heartbreaking, we watch a man seems to put-together and serious slowly fall apart and lose control of his calm façade - impeccable work

Sean Stone - Chasing Shadows

Admittedly, I don't know where the watch the full show, but I have seen clips and I knew I had to put it on this list because of Reece's portrayal of an autistic person. You can tell he put a lot of thought and research into it in order to give a realistic performance, which is a testament to his dedication and how much he truly cares about the roles he plays and who he's representing

Tyler - Riddle Of The Sphinx SPOILERS BELOW

If there's one thing Reece is good at, it's how to play a chilling villain. Everything about Tyler is unnerving and he manages to be terrifying without being loud or angry all the time. It's measured and the emotion builds and builds - fantastic work!

Joseph Lisgoe - The League Of Gentlemen

I've mentioned before that the debt collectors were underused, and I simply had to talk about how extraordinary Reece's performance as Lisgoe was. He completely dives into the roles he plays and this one was no exception, not even a light smashing on his closest friend stops him from carrying on a scene (just check out the outtakes!), he simply embodies the part and delivers a performance that terrifies the cast, crew and the audience

Laurence - Merrily Merrily SPOILERS BELOW

Merrily Merrily is an Inside No. 9 episode that I can never rewatched because of how empty it made me feel - and I mean that in the best way possible! Laurence is wracked with pain over the loss of his late partner, and Reece delivers such a subtle yet haunting performance that I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about it

Ross Gaines - The League of Gentlemen

Ross is such a fun character because of how manipulative, calculating and cold he is. Not only does it set him apart from the other inhabitants of Royston Vasey, it makes his scenes with Pauline all the more tense and entertaining - and Reece really does deliver in the role. I'm glad they decided to go with this casting choice

Aiden - Thinking Out Loud

Like with Laurence, Reece delivers a hauntingly stellar performance. What makes this one really special is that it's a monologue. There's nobody for him to bounce off of or react to, he has to reach those emotions himself. And, as always, he nails it

Ollie Plimsolls - The League Of Gentlemen

I've said before that I think Ollie is one of the most cleverly written League characters and I stand by that. As a representation of the Saviour Complex and self-righteousness of people in theatre, Ollie is a character that should be easy to hate... but because of Reece's expert comedic timing and delivery, he ends up being so funny that you can't help but laugh every time he's onscreen

SPECIAL MENTION: Gilbert - Betty Blue Eyes

Reece Shearsmith said in an interview that he wasn't a great singer. Reece Shearsmith is a liar. Don't believe me? Listen to The Kind Of Man I Am from Betty Blue Eyes and thank me later

Also, if you can find it, there's a short bootleg of him in The Producers which is good too!

Of course, this are just a few of his performances and he's never delivered a bad one - whether he's playing a comedic character like Archie in The Bill or a more serious one like in Borley Rectory. And we haven't even touched on his writing skills, I can't wait to see what he does next!

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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 5 months

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Decorations

Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Pairing: Senator Vreenak x fem!Reader Words: 1.2K Summary: Vreenak knows a lot about humanity and their sentiment towards certain traditions. That didn't prevent him from being surprised when comming home to a newly styled house A/N: Not completely satisfied with this one, but it won't get better

Not my gif!!!

WINTER WRITING PLAN

Vreenak was not sure whether to feel amused or sceptical.

Of course he knew why she did what she did, after all he was not stupid or simple-minded. Vreenak was aware of the human tradition, which to his knowledge was celebrated in many, although not all, cultures on Earth at this time of year.

He was also quite aware that people who celebrated this festival tended to become incredibly joyful and emotional. They started seeing friends and family, even if they hadn't seen them since the last festival, and bought loads of unnecessary things that they would pack away after a month anyway.

And in addition, he was quite aware of people's tendency to decorate their dwellings unnecessarily and load them with rubbish.

He was aware of all this, but nevertheless he had not been prepared to come home that evening and find the house in such a state.

As soon as he opened the door, his entrance hall greeted him, dressed in dozens of twinkling fairy lights. After setting down his bag and taking off his coat, he let his gaze slide with scepticism over his wife's handiwork.

The aforementioned fairy lights stretched throughout the entrance hall, over railings and door frames, up to the ceiling, which was several metres above Vreenak's head. Also on the ceiling were colourful spheres and greenery, the branches of which were tied together with careful red bows.

Whether he liked it or not, Vreenak had to admire his wife's willpower and stubbornness in putting the decorations up there on the ceiling. He knew from his own experience how difficult it was to get to the ceiling.

Nevertheless, he still wasn't quite sure what to make of the display.

Sounds from the lounge caught his attention and on silent soles he slipped through the corridors of her dwelling until he arrived at the doorway to their lounge.

A slight smile crept onto his face at the sight.

On the floor, surrounded by boxes of various sizes, squatted his wife, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on untangling the string of fairy lights in her hands. Scattered on the floor around her were baubles of various colours, more fairy lights, the green branches he had already noticed in the entrance hall, and various wooden figures, which seemed bizarre to him.

Some of them he could still understand, for example the one that was probably supposed to represent a snowflake.

However, Vreenak was not sure who the blond wooden figure in the white dress and with wings was supposed to represent.

He had seen this representation several times before, but had never shown enough interest in it, to search for the answer.

The most striking thing, however, was the huge wreath of branches that stood on the table. There were four red candles on it, and here too he could make out the already familiar balls and cones. Even if he couldn't quite make sense of it.

"Damn thing," she growled, tugging briefly at the string of lights. "You'd think in the 24th century we'd have strings of lights that would be easier to untangle, but no-" A curse escaped her, causing Vreenak's eyebrows to shoot up. "Half an hour I've been fighting you you bastard and it's no use."

Quietly, Vreenak approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Well, well, I haven't seen you so dedicated in a long time, e'lev." As soon as his hands came into contact with her shoulder and his voice reached her ear, she flinched and wheeled around to face him, her eyes wide with shock.

"Oh heavens, Vreenak! Don't scare me like that!" He chuckled in amusement and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck just below her ear and could feel a shudder rush through her.

"You're getting inattentive, wife." He ran a hand through her hair. "You must be careful. Otherwise someone might hurt you." She leaned back and he could feel the smile on her face.

"That's what I married you for, isn't it?"

"And I thought it was because of my irresistible charm and good looks."

"If anything, it's for your power and money," she returned with a laugh before turning slightly sideways and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I didn't expect you to be home so early. I had hopes that maybe I'd be done decorating by the time you arrived. "A sigh. "Well, most of it down here is done."

Vreenak settled on the floor and pulled her into his arms so that his chest was pressed against her back and buried his nose in her neck. "And may I know the reason for which you so adorn our home, e'lev?" Her hands wandered back to the string of lights.

"I don't think I need to explain to you what Christmas is."

"No, but it doesn't explain the state of our home."

Playfully, she slapped his arm. "Oh please, don't act dumber than you are. I was trying to get into the Christmas spirit. On Romulus, Christmas just isn't that sought after due to the absence of other humans. I was just craving something typically Christmassy." She sighed and traced the lines on his palm with her fingertips, causing a shiver to run through him.

"But perhaps I should have asked you first, e'lev. Forgive me."

Vreenak clicked his tongue. "Nonsense. You are my wife and as much lady of the house as I am lord of this house. To be more accurate, the house is probably even more yours than mine, considering how much time you spend here." He pressed a kiss to her neck and she chuckled softly, bringing a smile to Vreenak's lips. He couldn't stand it when she was sad.

"If it makes my wife happy, she may put up as many decorations in this house as she likes." A glow spread across her face and she turned, but Vreenak raised an admonishing finger.

"However, I have one condition. We will not put a tree in our house." A sigh escaped her, however, she nodded in agreement. "Very well. We will just have to settle for these." She took one of the small twigs in her hand and waved it in the air.

"Tell me, my dear husband, are you aware of the tradition of these twigs? What happens if you stand among them with a person?"

He shook his head silently and leaned back a little when he saw the mischievous smile on her lips. "Well then, allow me a demonstration."

Silently, Vreenak smiled to himself as his hand moved to her neck while her lips caressed his. Of course he was aware of this tradition.

"I would like to call it a day," she murmured, "however, I still have to finish my fight with this string of lights." He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Then I wish you good luck, my wife. I am aware that you can fight your battles alone, allow me to get you some refreshment. Kali-fal, perhaps?"

Agreeing, she nodded and Vreenak rose before bowing playfully. "I will return shortly, Ihhei." Her laughter followed him into the kitchen and he could not hide his own smile.

Truly, he would be able to tollerate this bit of decoration if it put his wife in such high spirits.

And perhaps, he thought, as his thoughts returned to the green branches, not all decorations were so awful.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1

@akamitrani

#star trek #star trek deep space nine #star trek deep space 9 #star trek ds9 #ds9 #senator vreenak #vreenak x reader #senator vreenak x reader

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theultimatenonbinarynerd · 1 year

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Death In Paradise And How The Show or Shows Have Unknowingly Made Beautiful Autism Representation An Eassay By An Autistic Person

Introduction

I never get this personal or sappe but hi I'm Mel and just recently I got my Autism diagnosis. Recently I've been trying to discover who I am and what parts were just lies after realising i have been making and trying to imitate and please people my entire life.

I started watching Death In Paradise at the end of Season 10 my Mum had it on the tv and I thought it was interesting so I started watching. I then watched the first Christmas special and fell in love even more before giving season 11 a watch. Really loved all the characters and especially loved the characters, the visuals and the mystery aspect. Infact it made murder mysteries/who dunnits become one of my special interests. Started watching Beyond Paradise and some of the earlier seasons with Richard Poole.

Two things have made me realise why I probably love Death In Paradise since I have gotten my Autism diagnosis.

1: I was discussing the series finale with a fan who has sadly but understandably deleted their twitter account about how all the DI'S especially Neville when he was flashing back to the scene he was arrested found myself relatable as I replay my memories like that.

2: Martha's breakup monologue as heartbreaking as it was to Humphrey because she's absolutely out of line since they could adopt but her gut reaction is absolutely right. She has treated Humphrey appallingly not communicating with him about his feelings till that moment and not being honest with Humphrey resulting in him being dishonest in return. I am a people pleaser and will often think about others happiness before my own and Humphrey impulsively agreeing to move to Shipton Abbott is a good example as he really struggled setting in. Martha is right Humphrey is awkwardly nice to everyone even the police commissioner who I would have no patience with.

Now I realise that I am invested in these shows not just for the mysteries and the who dunnit element but to see Autistic people like me have human struggles in a very stressful job.

Even though I'm on a very different career path to all the DI'S as an Autistic person I think all the DI's are Autistic and show their own unique struggles. This is why I fell in love with the character of the Doctor to. If the DI'S aren't cannon Autistic they're definitely Autistic coded and it's my headcannon and I'm over riding the bbc on this one because when we see the way Autism is represented on screen within other white male characters I can see that Neville, Jack, Humphrey and Richard ain't no Rainman or Sheldon Cooper or Good Doctor which is why I feel so represented through these characters.

So with from what I've seen I would like to break down each DI that has been on the show and essentially justify why I have head cannoned all of the DI'S as Autistic.

1: DI Richard Poole

There are so many things that make me think he's Autistic I'm up to S2 Episode 7 of Death In Paradise as I'm wanting to catch up and as soon as this man came on screen I knew that there was no way in heck that Richard Poole is just neurodivergent grumpy english man as Camille would put it. One of the episodes I related to was Season 2 Episode 5 because if there's one thing I struggle with as an Autistic person its giving people the correct comfort they need.

Which links perfectly to my first point.

1: Richard And Emotion

Constantly throughout the first two seasons we see Richard struggle to communicate his emotions and hide how he's feeling. When sad things come up in s2 ep 5 and when he's asked to hold baby Rosie for the first time he struggles to display how he's truly feeling and how best to react. It shines especially when he asks Dwayne how he comforted Camille. I think Season 2 Episode 6 and Episode 5 was the first time we'd properly seen Richard sort of embrace the sand and open up emotionally.

2: Sensory Needs

Similar to Neville he makes it very clear that he does not enjoy the loud festivals on the island. He seems most comfortable up in his shack secluded reading a good book and chilling out.

He also seems to wear no summer clothes on the island as despite the heat he only seems comfortable with suits. Personally I struggle with being in bare t shirts and shorts so I can definitely relate to the fact. Richard seems definitely like one of those people who doesn't climatise for the summer and will not wear coats in the winter.

Overall an absolutely amazing relatable character.

2: DI Humphrey Goodman

I haven't gotten to S3 with Humphrey yet but I can also see relatable Autistic Representation in him. This is all based on from what I've seen in Beyond Paradise Humphrey wants to please and get on with everyone so he often hides his own emotions and puts others first. I can also see that he stims, forgets stuff if there's a change in routine and burnout hits him hard. I think he was partly burnout as the falling out with Martha must have been quite exhausting.

Masking is a huge thing with Humphrey so in my head cannon I think people including Humphrey have dismissed him being Autistic as just him being quirky. In my opinion the beyond paradise finale and episode five showed just how much Humphrey represses his emotions and then when it comes to burst it's bad.

1: Masking and Socializing

Humphrey throughout the beyond paradise series constantly tries to hide his uncomfortableness with Archie being around and his feelings about Martha stopping IVF. I know he came around and was sincere in the finale but I honestly think he wanted to pretend he felt ok with it so he wouldn't lose Martha.

Social wise he is also very awkward with people and struggles to communicate what he wants them to feel. Fights and conflicts seem to also exhaust Humphrey. Talking to Esther in Episode Five he admits he doesn't know how to feel about Martha not wanting kids and can't stop thinking about it. Infact he's so distracted by his fight with Martha that he can barely help Esther with the case. I'm often overwhelmed with socialising and go away to relax and think things through is definitely a coping mechanism I use.

2: Stiming And Info-Dumping

A form of stiming I picked up from Doctor Who was flapping my hands about when I'm talking and rambling. Humphrey out of all of the detective's seems to do this the most even when not talking about the solutions to a case.

He also is very passionate when talking about his special interests. I also think the way in the beyond paradise series he pictures the crime in his head and relives it whilst explaining it to Esther is very not neurotypical I view memories and emotions in my head like that sometimes.

Overall a very relatable character regarding his social skills and his need to people please.

3: DI Jack Mooney

This is going to be very short as I haven't seen much of Jack Mooney due to the fact I'm on S2 of my Death In Paradise rewatch but even the three episodes I watched whilst it was rerunning alongside Beyond Paradise I got very not neurotypical vibes from him.

The episode where he's rooming with Dwayne shows his struggle to interrupt other people's emotions, read social cues and understand the right moment to intrude on a conversation. It's absolutely hilarious when he just walks in on Darlene and Dwaynes date without considering that it's not an appropriate time. Not to mention when he interrupted Dwayne from his shower.

Through all three episodes I saw I can tell that he really struggles with grief so Florence is a good friend that he can consol. She helps him realise what stuff might make the shack feel more comfortable and friendly, like having a record player etc.

If any Autistic DIP fans want to reblog this and share their own thoughts about why they headcannon Jack as Autistic.

4: DI Neville Parker

Ah Neville Parker a character that I can definitely see myself in especially after season 12. Although I started watching from half of season 10 I still have enough reasoning to justify my headcannon. The way Neville organisises his meds and takes rejection from other people shows. Although you don't have to be Autistic to experience and anxiety Neville from what I've seen definitely overlaps with both.

Similar to Richard he seems to really struggle with the environment but at least have the sense to not where his blazer all the time and change into island built clothes off shift. Season 12 shows that Neville has adapted so well to the island that if he was put anywhere else like a prison cell its nerve racking and difficult for him. Not to mention from my own experience I've switched off when I'm sad or when something too difficult to process has happened and Neville does just that at the end of S12 through the Sophie or should I say Rebecca situation.

1: Lack Of Red Flags + Social Cues

Season 12 showed that because of Nevilles desire to have a relationship with someone and get over Florence he was unable to ignore the red flags about Sophie until he was in jail for her murder. Ok I'm pretty sure not all of the neurotypical Death In Paradise fans didn't fall for Sophies scheme but like Neville I truly felt no bad vibes from her until the very end. I haven't seen the red flags till to late and its costs me my mental health.

Neville seems to really struggle how to communicate his feelings as also seen by his crush on Florence.

2: Stimming + Special Interests

Throughout the show Neville is very rigid he fidgets and waves his arms about enthusiastically when he has found out who the killer is.

Throughout the show we can also see that Neville is a passionate reader and loves Star gazing. He was absolutely thrilled to info dump about the famous star gazer that has been unalived. We see he struggles with stuff outside of his limits and will glady lovingly share fun fact with his team.

3: Emotions/Shutdown

As mentioned Neville tends to become quiet when he's upset and shutdown. We can see throughout the case in episode 8 he's not entirely there till he confronts Sophie for the final time.

Neville insanely loses his enthusiasm and energy after he's arrested. If you look back he does not instigate any of the conversations whilst he's in the cell unless it's Sophie. Most people would react screaming and yelling when arrested but Neville is just too shocked to move. As an Autistic person I've had a shutdown only once but I definitely relate that if I was arrested I would just be frozen in panic not wanting to upset anyone.

Being quiet seems to be one of Nevilles best coping skills when something immensely stressful has happened.

Again when he had that freeze frame recalling when he was arrested and who could have switched the keys it seemed very relatable and not neurotypical. Not to mention a lot of Autistic people have a high sense of justice which could explain Neds fearless anger and frustration at the end of Ep 7.

Conclusion

I think even if coded having Autistic representation that's not cis white man super intelligent with no struggles is impactful its also why I want a black or biracial DI on the show as it would be even more impactful.

Honestly all the DIS being Autistic or on the neurodiverse spectrum as a whole adds to alot of the fish out of water element of the show.

I highly encourage reblogs as i assume I'm not the only autistic or neurodivergent fan of the show.

-Melody-

They/Them

#beyond paradise #death in paradise #humphrey goodman #neville parker #richard poole #jack mooney #beyond paradise spoilers #actually autistic #neurodivergent

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neondiamond · 6 months

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🎃 Recently Read Fics - October 2023 🎃

These are all the amazing fics I read over the past month (from shortest to longest). Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation if you read any of these! 🧡

🎃 Pumpkin Baby by @louisgayvodka (1k, G)

Louis paints Harry’s baby bump for their Halloween themed photoshoot

🎃 let the feeling last by @wecantalktomorrow (1k, G)

Louis had been waiting a long time for the euphoria of moments like these. To feel such pride radiating through the room for him. He spent far too long in the spotlight for an image that had been forced upon him, built to show him in a particular way. A way that was nowhere near an actual representation of himself. He worked as hard as possible to create a safe space for himself and his fans at his shows, one that represented his authentic self.

He knew that his fans heard him. They could hear him screaming at the top of his lungs in the only way he knew how while still tangled in the false sense of leniency that came with his current contracts. It still did not match the feelings that came with moments like tonight, the overwhelming sense of love and belonging.

🎃 us means more than me and you by @starryhaze28 (1k, NR)

the one where Harry is sick and Louis takes care of him.

🎃 Touch the Sky and Kiss the Sun by @londonfoginacup (2k, T)

Louis Tomlinson knows without a shadow of a doubt that Harry Styles is his soulmate.

Harry Styles, Louis is virtually certain, is completely unawares of this fact.

🎃 Lights Are So Bright by @becomeawendybird (2k, G)

Newly first-string quarterback Louis Tomlinson mentions enough times in interviews that he's a fan of mega-famous popstar Harry Styles that people start to notice. At least one person does...

🎃 There and Back Again by @dedtobeginwith (2k, T)

A Keep Driving timestamp, one year later.

🎃 for you, darlin’, for you by @wecantalktomorrow (2k, G)

“Got another tomorrow before I leave,” Harry said quietly, nuzzling Louis’s blanket once more as he got comfortable in their nest. His body was still trembling with the aftermath of his sobs, but the tears had stopped for the moment. “Thank you, you know,” he rubbed his face once more, sinking farther into the comforting scent of his alpha, “you always seem to know what I need before I do.”

That made Louis smile, eyes crinkling in the corners which, in turn, made Harry’s heart race with a fondness for the man before him. “Of course I do, you’re my baby, my mate, my omega. ‘S my job to take care of you. Kept seeing the pictures coming out, and you looked more and more worn out, my love. Could feel it,” Louis breathed out, his hand coming up to prod at his own bondmark absently. The touch to his bondmark makes Harry shiver, bringing his fingers up to rest them against his own mark.

🎃 the blue never-ending sky by @justanothershadeofblue (3k, T)

“What do you suppose it’s like?”

Harry’s voice was dreamy, barely audible from where Louis lay on his back on the off-white carpet of Harry’s bedroom.

“Arizona?” Louis asked, and Harry made an affirmative noise from his position on top of his twin bed. “Wouldn’t know, would I?” Louis jerked his head at the window, dripping with mid-February rain. It was a useless gesture - Harry was busy staring at the ceiling. “On account of being British and all.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” Harry said, and his voice sounded like he was already gone.

🎃 Got Time (But We’re Only Human) by @galacticlarry (6k, T)

Louis and Harry have been dating for years, but have been keeping it a secret from the public, which is why when they decide to go on a trip with Liam, Niall, and Zayn to celebrate One Direction’s anniversary, they end up at a farm in the middle of nowhere.

What happens when a picture that shouldn’t have been taken starts circulating on the internet, threatening to mess everything up?

🎃 always had that heart of mine by @voulezloux (7k, M)

louis is nesting, though he won’t admit to it. between being ill, the stress of uni, and near drops, the only thing keeping him afloat is harry’s scent. the fact they don’t get along is neither here nor there

🎃 If We Have Each Other by @pocketsunshineharry (23k, M)

AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.

🎃 2 a.m. texts by @sun-lt (30k, T)

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #tracksintheam #monthly recs

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