#give us a scene where these two are just brothers who have cared for each other deeply for like three centuries

[thosebitingdoxies]

i completely understand Chris Hemsworth wanting to quit Thor after the recent news he got

but PLEASE GOD/ODIN/TAIKA or whoever give us one last Thor film or even just a guest role in a Loki episode and give us a sweet final ending for the Loki and Thor brotherhood where they acknowledge they care deeply for another, just you know, put a final bow on this character driving relationship

preferably ending with a hug

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face. 

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them. 

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that. 

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened. 

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah. 

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing. 

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol. 

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late. 

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head. 

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse. 

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig. 

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly. 

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?” 

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door. 

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone. 

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself. 

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet. 

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening. 

Kent was going after you. 

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around. 

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it. 

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh. 

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs. 

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two. 

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist. 

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard. 

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face. 

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley. 

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more. 

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you. 

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet. 

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it. 

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face. 

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours. 

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards. 

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.” 

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you. 

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?” 

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.” 

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin. 

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side. 

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted. 

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship. 

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring. 

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls. 

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk. 

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered. 

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar. 

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else. 

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world. 

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder. 

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt. 

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers. 

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church. 

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger. 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

���So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly. 

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him. 

He was right, after all. 

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?” 

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone. 

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse. 

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee. 

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest.  “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables? 

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone. 

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain. 

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?” 

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you. 

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek. 

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body. 

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours. 

You heard him chuckle softly. 

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss. 

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it. 

None. 

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench. 

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss. 

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours. 

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you? 

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself? 

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit. 

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further. 

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance. 

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat. 

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt. 

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline. 

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise. 

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt. 

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else. 

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t. 

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud. 

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest. 

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson. 

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God. 

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?” 

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[ghouldump]

here a silly request... louis has a sister and that's who lestat is interested in and louis is just a means for lestat to get what he really wants! I'm imagining that scene with lestat, louis and lily where lestat practically just used lily so he could sleep with louis, Louis will be so much more worried about Lily that he won't even notice Lestat seducing his sister 🤫🤭

Spider And The Fly | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ when Lestat uses Louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.

this is FAR from silly !!

Fierce, Secretive, Cunning, you were quite a vixen with everyone wrapped around your fingers as if you were a goody two shoes - but Lestat could see right through you. He remembered the first night he'd laid eyes on you.

You had no business being on this side of the city, some salesman pressed against you. You'd paid one of the many prostitutes to warn you, if Louis came through, and low and behold, he had just parked.

Pushing away from the guy, you pretended to be uninterested, unlike seconds ago. He kept trying to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, but you kept shrugging him off.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, his hand brushing down the sleeve of your dress.

“I need to get going,” you said, standing, but he followed, throwing the money on the table, and going outside.

“Hold on now, princess,” he said, trying to stop you and kiss on your cheek, while you attempted to push him away. Unexpectedly, the man was punched, groaning, confusedly staring up at Louis.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked you.

“I came with some friends, but they left, so I was going to get a drink,” you said, pouting at your dearest big brother.

“Hell no, you don't need a drink, get in that car and wait for me,” he pointed. Nodding a solemn expression in place, you walked to the car. As you passed Lestat, he could see the mischievous glint in your eyes, you could put on a good show.

He had to get close to you, he found out about your background, your usual circle of friends and associates. How other than Louis, you were the only other child to have some sort of socialite status. You were popular amongst men, and while you weren't a loose young woman, you weren't as innocent as you led your family to believe.

There was only one problem, you were impossible to get to. Louis was protective, extremely protective, perhaps it was his way of projecting his fears. Whoring out women, day and night, yet the idea of his baby sister doing the same thing bothered him. Paul, when he wasn't chasing down Louis, expressing his dislike of Levi, or at church, he was trying to warn you to stay away from men, in general, and Grace was too focused on her wedding to care as much as the two. It was challenging, but Lestat wasn't going to give up easily.

He became close with Louis, and while he enjoyed the man and what he had to offer, Lestat already had made his decision. He recalled fondly, the first time you'd met each other.

Sitting at the dinner table, next to Louis, he was cordial with everyone in vain conversation. Abruptly, the front door could be heard opening, before your head poked into the dining room.

“Y/n, where have you been?” your mother started.

“I was over at Anna’s house,” you said, as you waved everyone at the table, making your way to the empty seat next to Louis.

“This is Lestat de Lioncourt, he is a friend of mine, this is the baby of the family, Y/n,” Louis said, as you sat down. Facing the man, you thought how handsome he was. He was probably Louis’ lover, heaven knows he had never brought a woman home.

“I have heard many things about you,” he said.

“I hope only good,” you smirked, briefly glancing at Louis.

“Of course, Louis goes on and on about you,” he smirked.

The conversation shifted back to Grace and Levi as they went on and on about their wedding. Picking at your food, you sat uninterested in the topic. “Is this all they talk about?” you heard, making you look up at Lestat.

His mouth hadn't moved, as he still faced Grace, nodding his head as she spoke to him. “I see why you're always disappearing” you heard again.

“Excuse me?” you spoke, everyone’s attention turning to you.

“Something wrong?” your mother asked.

“Nevermind,” you shook your head.

“Be careful, ma chérie, they’ll think you're like your brother,” he said, this time when you looked up, everyone sat frozen.

“What is this?” you asked him.

“A specialty of mine,” he smiled.

“Unfreeze them,” you demanded.

“I’d like a word, I have anticipated this moment, since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he smiled.

“You and Louis, are you not together?” you asked him.

“We’re colleagues, who like a little fun on the side, but you, your brother is very protective over you, a precious gem, inaccessible, but I wonder if he knows you aren't even a virgin. Even I can't help but want a taste from you,” he said before everyone unfroze, continuing their conversation.

This was only the beginning of seeing and questioning the essence of the Frenchmen. It was also the start of the inception of Lestat’s plan.

“You okay, pudding? You look a little on edge,” Mr. Clèmence asked, reaching to touch your lower back. He was your father’s business colleague before he passed, and also a creep. Not long after you turned twenty-one, he began trying to bed you.

“I’m okay, I think I‘ll have another drink,” you smiled.

“Go on and hurry back, we have some catching up to do,” he whistled as you walked away.

Rolling your eyes, you regretted accepting the party invite and having to deal with his perverted tendencies. Walking to the bar, you made small talk with a few old friends along the way, thanking the bartender as he replaced your empty glass.

Making your way back to the table, your heart sped up, seeing Mr. de Lioncourt. What was he doing here? When did he get here? Was Louis with him? Why was he talking to Mr. Clémence? They seemed to be having an interesting conversation until you approached.

“I’ll be right back, Y/n,” Mr. Clémence said, standing up, and walking away. He looked hypnotized, never meeting your eyes as he left.

“Join me”

“Is Louis here?” you asked him.

“Louis is working, he has an establishment to run,” he smirked, crossing his leg over the other, as you sat down.

“Then what are you doing here? You don't want business with Mr. Clémence, he's a crook,” you laughed.

“Yes, depraved swine, I am here to see the star of the night, Ms. de Point du Lac,” he said, smirking.

“You seem special to my brother, I don't want to cross any boundaries,” you shook your head.

“Is Louis the only thing stopping you? Or is it the act you plan to keep up for your family and friends? You and I aren't much different, carefree, meant to live your truth, unapologetically, without fear of judgment”

“You wouldn't understand, we’re from two different worlds,” you told him.

“And with just the snap of my fingers, I can make you a part of my world, I just need a yes,” he said, you didn't realize how close he was to you, until now.

“Mr. de Lioncourt-

“Lestat,” he corrected you. Gulping, you stared into his eyes, he was inches away from your face.

“Lestat, I appreciate your offer, but I will have to decline. Louis has the business, Grace has Levi, Paul has the church, and Mama. It is up to me to make a name for myself and have something of my own. I can not ruin my future because I was known as the French man’s créole plaything, good night,” winking at him, before standing up to leave.

Your rejection only added fuel to Lestat’s burning lust. He bit his lip, watching as you walked away, and headed toward your driver. So set on what you needed in life, or what you thought you needed, you were willing to sacrifice everything you were. Marrying an attractive, but poor man, or an old ugly rich man, and for what? To please your family and finally receive the approval you craved, to show them you had something of your own - but this, this fantasy, was not what you truly wanted. You wanted freedom, from misogyny, racism, social pressures, etc.

“I will set you free, from the troubles of this life, ma chérie”

Time went on and Lestat was no longer a concern in your mind. You'd seen him at a few events, sometimes alone, sometimes with Louis, regardless, you kept your distance. He'd stare, but you ignored him. Eventually, you didn't even acknowledge him anymore. There was still a small feeling that you were being watched, or followed, but you ignored it until it went away completely.

“Paul, you have a fever, mama said to lay down,” you told him, helping him into bed.

“I’m alright, really, I just need to see Father-

“I’m more than sure God wants you to get better before you go to church,” you said, sternly. Putting his head down, he nodded, climbing back into bed.

He had been sick with a nasty cold, and you had been helping your mother take care of him, since everyone else was too busy.

“I have soup,” your mother announced, holding the tray with the porcelain bowl on top.

“Good, and now you can explain to your son why he needs to get better before he runs off to church”

“Paul, Y/n is right and you're risking getting others sick,” she told him, setting down the tray.

“Where’s Louis, maybe we could read a few chapters together, like old times,” he said, hopeful.

“Sorry, Paul, he's working-

“Go get him, he won't mind coming home,” your mother told you.

“How am I supposed to know where he is? You want me to go around the French Quarter screaming his name?” you asked. Louis was never in one place for long and it would be a struggle to find him, now that the sun was setting.

“Check at Mr. de Lioncourt’s house, and the red light district,” she said lowly.

“No, Y/n, you have to stay away from that devil,” Paul shook his head.

“His address is in the address book, please, I think it would be nice for him to bond with Louis,” she said. Holding back the urge to groan, you nodded, leaving the room.

She was always trying to accommodate Paul, he had his issues, please Louis, he carried the family, help Grace, she was the first to marry - but what about you?

Taking the car, you went straight to the red-light district. You frowned at the smell in the air, as you looked around. You didn't see him or his car anywhere in sight.

“Hey, have you seen Louis?” you asked Bricktop, one of his madames.

“He left a while ago, either went home or to that French man, he didn't say,” she told you.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching over, giving her a few cents, before driving off to his home.

By the time you parked, night completely covered the sky. You couldn't differentiate between the vehicles, as you pulled up to the curb. Turning off the car, you hope that he is in this house because you did not want to see this man for the fun of it.

Anxiously, you approached the gate, raising your hand to knock, and you realized it was unlocked. Making your way to the door, you reached to knock, when the door opened.

“Lestat”

“Y/n, it is a pleasure to see you, what can I do for you, at this hour?” he smirked.

“I'm looking for Louis, is he here?” you asked, standing on your toes, attempting to look over his shoulder.

“Come in,” he opened the door, stepping to the side to let you in.

“Well, is he here?” you asked, as you walked in, watching him shut the door.

“You knew he wasn't here, ma chérie, but you had to give in to your desire only a little, to see me again,” he grinned at you.

“What the hell are you talking about Lestat, get out of the way,” you said, seeing that he stood in front of the door.

“You can fool them, but I see you, I know you wanted to give in, you want to give in, but you're too afraid, you'd rather hide your true self from the world,” he said, moving out of the way, walking towards the living room.

Rolling your eyes, you went to reach for the door but stopped when he spoke again.

“Just so you know, what happens in secret, is always revealed”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mr. Clémence, Mr. Smith, Gabriel, William, Isaiah, he seems like he is you're favorite. Funny how people with the very names from the Bible are usually the most troubled, I mean, look at your brother,” he laughed.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you don't get to speak about him or any of them-

“I wonder how poor Louis would take it, knowing his innocent baby sister is a femme fatale, struggling with hypersexuality because she didn't get enough love as a child”

“Does Louis know that you're a dick, he'd love to hear that,” you spat, but it only made him smile.

“Bathrooms, boats, fields, cars, at the park, it would break his heart, to know how erotic you truly are”

“You've been watching me, you pervert,” you realized.

“I think you're entire family would be disappointed, moans such as those could only be made by a nymphomaniac”

“So tell them, is that what you want to do? Are you jealous? They get to have me any way they'd like, but you were rejected,” you taunted.

“I have you where I want you,” he smirked, tilting his head.

“The only place you'd ever have me is in your dreams”

“Is that why you haven't left yet? I moved from by the door and you followed me, you want to argue for my attention, but it is already set on you. I could never be jealous of any of them, they don't make your heart skip a beat, make you nervously chew your lip, clench your thighs together, I do,” he said, approaching you.

“Asshole,” you said, backing away from, them and turning to leave. However, your feet stopped on their own, running back to him, jumping into his arms.

Pressing your lips against his, you moaned as he hungrily explored your mouth, reaching for the back of your dress. Lestat was frightening, not because of how mysterious he came off to be, or his appearance, or background - but because he was always spot on. He had been right about you.

You last track of time, Louis wasn't even a thought, as you gave yourself to Lestat. In his lap, on the loveseat, panting in the most ungodly manner, you gasped, as he bit into your neck. The pain was quickly replaced by pleasure, his cool arms wrapping around your warm skin. It wasn't until the euphoric ecstasy came down, that you realized what you'd done and with whom. He was special to Louis and yet here you were, lying against him.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you said, scurrying to get dressed, your hand going to your neck, holding the two holes in your skin. He smiled, satisfied, for now, at least he had more access to you, with his blood in your system.

Rushing home, you tried to look as natural as possible, taking the small backup scarf from your purse, tying it around your neck before entering the house, and going upstairs to your room.

“Hey, they told me you went looking for me?” Louis spoke from the bottom of the stairs, making you turn around. Your eyes softened, guilt plaguing your mind of your actions.

“Yeah, I stopped by the district, at Mr. de Lioncourt’s and I drove around a while,” you lied.

“Sorry about that, I went to see Ms. Lily, her birthday recently passed,” he said.

“It's okay,” you said, told him.

“What’s with the scarf? It’s hot as hell tonight,” he chuckled.

“The mosquitoes are tearing me a new one, I had to hide my neck, I can't wait until winter,” you said, going up the steps as he laughed.

Entering your room, you immediately pulled off the cloth, staring into your reflection. Wincing, your fingers pressed against the two holes, moving to your lips, you thought about Lestat, how he kissed you as if it was his last kiss. Held you, as if you would slip away. He was everything you could ever want, and he was right about all of the things he'd said and for that reason, you would have to stay away from him.

“I’m so glad you're feeling better, partying just isn't the same without you,” Anna, your best friend, pouted, intertwining your arms, as you both sat in the back of the car.

“I know, I think I caught whatever Paul had,” you said to her.

“Lie”

You heard, making you glance around, but he was nowhere in sight. It had been two long weeks of hiding away in your room. At first, it was only until the bruising went down, no amount of makeup could hide the holes in your neck. Then it started, calling for you, telling you to come to him, but you couldn't, you wouldn't. He plagued your mind, crept into your thoughts and dreams. You felt crazy until it finally stopped, immediately, you were rejuvenated and accepted Anna’s invitation to her boy toys party.

“Your mother had you tending to him again? I swear, you need to get married Y/n so you can get away from them,” she said.

“Uh, Laurent lives in the French Quarter?” you asked, feeling the hairs on your body standing, as you recognized the area.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you, he recently bought a house here,” she said, your eyes landed on his house, as the driver drove past.

Parking in front of the large home, you stared down the road, he stayed minutes away.

“Come on, I can't wait for you to meet him,” Anna squealed, dragging you into the house.

As the party began, houses down the road, Louis faced a dilemma. He and Lestat had been growing closer, concerning too many. He knew by their looks the multitude of slurs they were biting back. Lestat had brought Ms. Lily to his house, insinuating on a threesome. However, after a little kissing, he whispered into her ear, grinning as she fell into a deep sleep.

“Ms. Lily?” Louis pulled away, worriedly staring at her.

“She is only sleeping, where were we?”

“I’m supposed to trust your word, wake her up?” he said, lightly shaking her.

“I can't, she's in a deep sleep, she’ll wake up…eventually,” he chuckled to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, she's innocent,” Louis screamed at him.

“When has prostitution become innocent?” Lestat laughed, watching as Louis picked her up, carrying her out of the house.

“Stay away from me”

“Y/n, come to me, I can not wait much longer, ma chérie,” he called out.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned against the wall, the glass to your lips, as you listened to Anna’s boyfriend and his friends go about uninteresting matters.

“Ma chérie, I will set you free”

“Get out of my head,” you muttered under your breath, looking off to the side.

“You said something?” Anna asked you.

“No, I think I seen someone I know, I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself, going outside.

“Y/n, come,” he said, as soon as you were outside. You were beginning to panic, your body moving on its own, headed to his house. To his front door, until you reached for the knob, entering. Going to the living room, you stopped, his back facing you, as he stood in front of the piano.

“Why are you doing this to me? You have Louis,” you asked him.

“I have never wanted Louis, it was always you,” he said, as he finally faced you.

“He just left and wants me to stay away from him, you have no competition, ma chérie,” he continued.

“Lestat, I told you, I can't-

“I love you, and I see you, your efforts, your attempts to please everyone around you, to live up to the standard they have for you - but you don't need that with me. There is nothing too little or too much, you could do, to change the unconditional love that has grown,” he said. Embarrassed, you covered your face as you began to cry. You couldn't recount a time anyone had ever said something as loving.

“You don't want me, I’ve pretended my whole life-

“I want nothing more than to have you, and so you've done a little acting, it doesn't matter. Accept me, and your life will start anew, and you can decide, according to your standards what is best,” he said, he was in front of you within milliseconds, reaching for your hand.

“What are you?” you asked him.

“I will teach you, what I am, what you are, and what you're meant to be, I just need a yes, a simple nod from your beautiful head,” he said, caressing your hand.

Staring into his pale eyes, you wiped your tears, before hesitantly nodding.

“Yes,” you said, taken by surprise when he pressed his lips against your own. Kissing along your neck, you released airy moans, your eyes shut. Taking the back of his hand, he wiped the makeup from your neck, revealing the mole-like scarring from the bite.

“Your new life starts now,” he said, his fangs sinking into your neck.

In the end, the fly was left tangled in the webs of the beautiful spider, awaiting death. Lestat had succeeded and he couldn't wait for the eternity ahead, spent together.

[luna-lovegreat]

Triple Threat Time

The Terror Trio

Legend, Hyrule, and Wild are known as the Triple Threat and I love them.

@breannasfluff for you, m'lady

Legend and Wild

These two are the most over looked.

And from the very beginning, we have a ton of examples of them just. Being. Near each other.

Like magnets

We can trace back to the moment these two really connected and spent more time with each other... which was of COURSE over girlfriend trauma

That's one of our first Legend being soft moments, showing true empathy. And Wild found that Legend could be understanding of his hurt- this is where they connected beyond just being closer than most

The main point in the plot with Legend and Wild is when they split off into groups

They went together, and this interaction shows that with these three, Legend is the common sense filter that keeps the other two from falling off of cliffs

Wild: I wanted to climb the mountain!

Leg: there is literally a cliff to fall off of right there

One of the things I love most about about Legend and Wild is they understand each other

We have multiple examples of them literally stating facts about the other in coversation.

"I know you love to tease" "you break everything" "you're not usually impressed"

They just state facts about each other because they get each other and understand

Wild and Hyrule

Ah yes. The two that have so many similarities in which they give the rest of the chain heart attacks

They both have the insecurity about knighthood. Hyrule because he's never felt adequate, and Wild feels like he only used to be.

They both hate maps (who needs them, right? *promptly gets lost*)

They do not care about injury at all. "I can walk off a broken leg for sure it'll be fine"

When left alone these two nearly die. Like every time. Love them.

Here's a lot of them hanging out:

Legend and Hyrule

The downfall duo

These two are from the same timeline, the downfall timeline, and there are certain connections coming from the same world. I think that their world made them have a similar fighting style because of how it's developed.

They are around each other mostly

And they always fight together

Here's my take on these two: Legends more confident because he's done so much. Hyrule's less confident because he didn't have such an insane number of adventures.

Legend's been through enough to know this is ganon's fault, not his. Hyrule's been through little enough (even with insanely hard adventures) that he has much more insecurity.

These two are quite possibly the most skilled in survival, because of no formal knight training. Instead of having perfect swordsmanship, they have tools (legend) and spells (hyrule) to fight in a world that was so much harder.

Which of course relates to wild who woke up in a cave, found a sword and winged it.

That's their relationships two on two

Legend and wild: power team, overlooked but so so close

Wild and Hyrule: do not let them near fire

Legend and Hyrule (downfall duo): They fight together and they are a pair

Combined these three make a Triple Threat

They also have dynamics with all three of them combined

Bestest moments of them:

When turned into a bunny, Legend mentioned both Hyrule and Wild as the ones he was worried about seeing him that way

In both scenes of Wild breaking swords Legend or Hyrule was there

When Wild was injured, they both somehow lost their senses and freaked out about him being dead (lol)

But with all of them they understand each other

Wild and Hyrule know Legend is grumpy and rude- they don't care, he's their brother. As the one who appreciates maps, he keeps both from getting even closer to dying

Hyrule: he feels accepted. These two make him feel like he has a place and is valuable to those with similarities.

Hyrule and Legend don't care about Wild's odd traits, they know that he breaks stuff and gets hurt often.

Proof

!!!! Looking at their scenes (in my screenshots above too), this is clear: all three of them have more examples than most of them being next to or near the others

Plus all the adventures and scenes of them- they fight and wander together- they are on this journey with each other

Because they understand each other, they spend time with each other. With nine people in the chain, when a few are around each other this much rather than the others, it makes it very clear how close they are, since they simply want to be near each other.

Here's my very favourite picture that perfectly sums up the three of them:

Legend: grrrr

Hyrule: excited

Wild: still can't put his hands on his hips properly

And these three combined... we've got constantly injured, set fire to everything, get lost a ton, snarky rudeness galore, plus swords and tools and magic, and that makes them a threat

(one thing I want to point out. you can see this by looking at the screenshots in this post. with the chain, much of figuring out who is close is simply who is near each other. looking at their interactions and the times they are hanging out as a group, Four is most often near and hanging out with these three rather than the others, so I think he is also very close to them and feels comfortable with them. do with that what you will.)

Yeah! Terror Trio.

:)

[lauraneedstochill]

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.” 

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve. 

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

[thestobingirlie]

conformity in stranger things

(as we see it through the characters of steve, dustin and eddie)

dustin meets steve while steve is already heading down his own path — he’s leaving behind ideas about high school and relationships, and figuring out who he is without them.

steve, by season two, had already become disillusioned with the idea of high school, and power struggles, and being the most popular guy in school. which is why he doesn’t react to billy’s taunts.

despite what the fandom may have you believe, steve’s seasons long arc about his struggle with conforming to the person people expect him to be is done.

don’t get me wrong, steve is still hanging onto some ideas in s2, like pretending you don’t care to get girls, and seeing nancy as different to all his other girlfriends (though i personally think that speaks more to steve’s prior relationships than the way he views woman).

and so, dustin and their friendship play a major role in steve fully moving on from the concept of ‘conforming’. steve doesn’t want to change who he is to get people to like him, or love him!

and with dustin, he doesn’t!!!

they make up dorky handshakes, and give each other advice. they talk about girls and steve teaches him how to achieve his signature hairstyle.

their relationship impacts both boys, but neither of them are conforming. it’s pretty much the exact opposite!!! despite what some fans would have you believe steve and dustin have a positive impact on each other!!!

dustin doesn’t change who he is to impress steve! he’s just as dorky as before, and in fact imparts some of that dorkiness onto steve!! steve and dustin help each other to find who they are, and figure themselves out.

on the other hand.

eddie had a negative impact on dustin.

dustin in s3 is dorky. he likes science, and school, and building great big radio towers up hills.

dustin in s4 is failing classes, treating friends like shit, his hubris is at an all time high; all aided by eddie’s high opinion of himself and ideas about conforming.

see. when eddie talks about conforming, he doesn’t really understand what he’s talking about (which is why his fans don’t either).

when he criticised people for ‘conforming’, all he’s really talking about is people being interested in things he doesn’t like. parties. band. science. basketball. he looks down on them all.

he makes snap judgments, and reduces them down to stereotypes. we literally watch him learn this on screen!!!

we literally watch as he verbally recognises that he knew nothing about steve, and yet reduced him down to his interest in basketball.

and here’s where the irony comes in. eddie is literally leading the club on conformity.

everyone in hellfire wears the exact same thing, and he makes fun of the clothes they used to wear. he seats himself on a thrown, and judges anyone that wishes to come before him before he deems them worthy to play a game. he’s not accepting all losers. he’s literally telling them they’re lesser than as he stands on tables in the cafeteria, and then fights against erica playing with them… just because he thinks she has to prove herself to him first.

that’s the point of eddie’s character!! that his whole big speech at the beginning of the season is wrong. and we literally see how he’s wrong scenes later when eddie interacts with chrissy.

people watch eddie learn and grow as a person, and then reduce his character right back down to who he was when he was first introduced.

tl;dr — if one of dustin’s relationships is about conformity, it’s his friendship with eddie, not steve. his brother dynamic with steve is about the complete opposite. about reaching across dumb nerd v jock social divides and finding a family.

in looking up to eddie, dustin has let his other interests fall to the wayside. he’s snarkier, makes fun of steve more (just like he’s been watching eddie mock jocks for months), his friendships with the rest of the party are at an all time low.

and yet. some people would have me believe this is dustin’s truest self? who gets his mormon girlfriend to hack into his school because he’s failing latin. who mocks steve for ‘wanting to be a hero’ when just the season before he was prepared to die by steve’s side.

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 4!

satan and diavolo ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor and solomon)

small note: last part is here wooh! i apologize i wasn't able to add the others. i just didn't know what to put for theirs bc im big idiot. i might make some of them soon tho! i'll probably make aot headcanons next but there will be delays bc exams are next week 😔 i'll also plan on putting more characters in one post next time so stay tuned!

☆ satan:

- likes friv.com, y8 games and papa games.

- picked up the habit of meowing out of nowhere when he's bored or enters his room. only does it when he's alone ofcourse because no way he'll let others see him like this. (everyone knows he does it they just don't say anything)

- he really liked enola holmes and other movies where it has detectives. it just riles him up more and more and wishes a hard ass case will just appear in the devildom already so he'll be first in the scene.

- don't get me started on how many times this man has tripped on his pile of books. he never really learned his lesson and just kept the books on the floor because he enjoys watching cats step on each one

- watches mat pat theories with you and levi. that's when he genuinely started gaining interest in games and sometimes fear he'll end up like levi one day.

- before he was able to manage his anger, he used to pull on his hair really hard. he'd have bald spots for years. thankfully he takes care of it now and it's perfectly luscious and soft.

- gets pissed when he sees people leaving pens uncapped like this is a waste of ink

- also gets pissed when his brothers leave the bathroom door open. he'll use his sleeve to cover his hand and close the door like a clean freak (i do the same thing)

- snores really loud when he sleeps on the couch. yes, the couch not his own bed. the couch.

☆ diavolo:

- he finds pleasure in buying a lot of unnecessary stuff. never learns from his lesson and just kept buying little trinkets and giving silly excuses for it.

- "but barbatos! doesn't this pig just look so cute on my office table? look! i even bought 300 packs of those tea leaves you ordered last time! isn't that great :D?"

- "my lord those tea leaves cost 100k grimm each-"

- he loves to spoil people so much it's so insane. you mentioned you like tanghulus? he ordered barbatos to make 20 of them. oh you really liked that furry coat made by a famous designer? he just bought you 5 pairs of it in different colors. your welcome.

- he likes onesies

- takes really long showers as well. he recently caught up to this thing called an "everything shower" and got invested. now he can't go on with his day without using body washes, oils and cleansers. a demon prince always has to be fresh and well maintained.

- he's always very excited to see you so when he rushes for a hug it's required to pick you up. who cares if he gets scolded by barbatos or receives a glare from belphie? you enjoy it and so does he!

- beautiful thick thighs and ass cheeks it makes me go what the fuck papi chulo

- enjoys the idea of cosplaying. doesn't care what he wears as long as gets to go out and dress up as a character. a dinosaur? sure! princess diavolo?! say less!

another note: we just reached 30 fucking followers hello??1!1(1?@? thank you so much !!! (⁠●⁠��⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - September

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 11.09.2024

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

gif-requests are open, but you'll need to have some patience🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in September with a MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. 4 Minutes 🇹🇭 (6/8)

Such an interesting series. Still a little bit confusing, but yet I am intrigued. Just how did Tonkla know that Great was the one who helped with his bother's murder. Why was is videotaped. This doesn't make much sense to me, but I bet I missed something. Interesting what can go wrong if you decide to take another path.

2. Cityboy_Log 4.2 🇰🇷 (18?/23)

This one is getting a little bit too staged and too boring. There is not much happening. It doesn't mean you have to fit in a jealousy plot or cheating, just let them do stuff. And those "upsi-we-got-caught-moments" are so staged and just not good. I don't like them. And please give the throuple some scenes where they acknowledge they like each other. Don't play with us like that!

3. First Note of Love 🇹🇼 (6/12)

This week we dealt with the aftermath of Orca coming back to Taiwan and the huge pressure lasting on Sea's shoulders. There is still not really a romantic spark between those two, it is more of a fan and his idol or a older brother caring for his younger sibling. And yet next week we get a confession and some romance... I don't know how to feel about it.

4. Happy of the End 🇯🇵 (4/8)

This week got dark. Damn. The whole episode four was a hurtful flashback of Haoran's life. And he had a fucked up life. And some of that he projects onto Chihiro, even though he is the only light in his life right now. But he doesn't know better, so I don't blame him. It was hard to watch, but it is something that happens everyday everywhere... we just don't look.

5. Hidamari ga Kikoeru 🇯🇵 (11/12)

We are 11 episodes in. I was trying to love it till the end. Yes, this is not just a story about Kohei and Taichi. There is so much more to it. But nothing is really told till the end. We just get snippets. We get snippets of how Taichi deals with the abandonment from his parents, but no real conflict or conclusion, but we know this affects him. We see a friendgroup, and don't get me wrong, I like Taichi's friends, but we don't get a real deep connection between them. Maya was put in there to be the drama, the villainess. Her story might have been interesting, but she is in no means a likable character and her story is going where? What was her purpose? Still don't get it. And the main plot. Where is it going. We got the first half of the series where Kohei and Taichi building a really strong connection and of course we whitness Kohei falling for Taichi. And with the second half I thought we see how those two work around it, how Taichi comes to terms with his own feelings for Kohei, because we already got the hint that he likes him too! Why was there no communication between these two at all during the last couple of episodes. It was all misscommunication. A trope I really don't like. And still today was no real talking between them. Just beating around the bush and changing the subject. I don't need smut or even a kiss in everything I watch. But I want some clearity and some good writing and most of all staying true to the characters! And this is not it anymore.

6. I Saw You In My Dream 🇹🇭 (9/12)

Okay. They are cute and I love their communication, from noth couples. Everything is going real smooth, so I guess the next episodes are going to be a little bit rougher. But this week we got a little bit consent and heart-eyes and soft touches and I really liked it here!

7. Jack & Joker: U steal my heart! 🇹🇭 (1/12)

I loved that we got this flashback of their past and how those two poor souls try everything to make people proud of them and end up in their own prisons. And yes, I am a War addict and I am finally back to my stuff on my screen and I couldn't be more happy!

8. Kidnap 🇹🇭 (1/12)

Okay, it is the first episode and Min is already head over heals with Q. With this paste we'll have the first break-up on episode five! And I like it! The show so far is quite alright. I am looking forward to their dynamic and the humor of it and of course I want to see how everything's going to turn out.

9. Seoul Blues 🇰🇷 (5/8)

When I said I want some drama, I didn't mean that! I hate this ex-story. He comes off like a real asshole, but they have a weird tension. But there was just the drama with the ex-girlfriend. And now there is the next hurdle in the way. Just give them an episode to relax and enjoy their new love. Argh!

10. The On1y One 🇹🇼 (7/12)

"You know, I've always felt that Guanyin Mountain by the Danshui River is quite efficacious. As long as you wish sincerely to it, it will certainly come true." And after that sentence you get this look on Wang's face!? Oh, he doesn't want them to be brothers. He is wishing for something closer, more intimate! And Tian too! And now they want to live together. I can't deal with the show! It is so good! The looks, the chemistry, the story, exquisite!

11. The Trainee 🇹🇭 (11/12)

And they're dating! They are cute together. I like that Ryan is encouraging Jane to go after his dreams- He build up his confidence and now Jane is ready to start something new. I really like this dynamic! It is a very pleasant turn of events. Ryan is such an interesting character. He is kinda shy and inexperienced, but can voice his needs and wants really good. I am looking forward the last episode.

12. Word of Honor 🇨🇳 (20/36)

Do you still believe I'll come back to this one? It is a really good series, but I can't motivate myself to dive into it right now 🙈

Finished in September

Series

Takara no Vidro 🇯🇵

We had our final today and I loved it! The fact both of them missed each other and communicated this. Taishin likes it when Takara opens up to him, because it makes him feel special and closer to him. And I get that. Takara is a person who doesn't talk much about himself, but who has so much anxiety and Taishin wants to share those burdens, because they are equal, because he wants to take care of Takara too. I started this series without any expectations and with mixed feelings, but it slowly became one of the gems of the week and I was so looking forward to this final episode! A really good 9 out of 10.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped in September

Looking forward to in September

Live in Love - Trailer (Sep 1st)

Happy of the End (Sep 3th)

Kidnap - Trailer (Sep 6th)

The Hidden Moon - Trailer (Sep 7th)

Jack and Joker - Trailer (Sep 9th)

Unlock your Love - Trailer (Sep 11th)

The Time of Fever - Trailer (Sep 12th)

Love Sick - Trailer (Sep 14th)

Bad Guy my Boss - Teaser (Sep 15th)

Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Sep 17th)

Chaser Game W2: Utsukushiki Tennyotachi (Sep 20th)

Uncle Unknown (Sep 20th ?)

[yanderestarangel]

Would you write the lin kuei trio turning into neko? And the reader would be responsible for taking care of the three of them until they returned to their natural form

HEADCANONS MK1 | NEKO!TRIO LIN KUEI

A/N: Random fun fact - my boyfriend's kitten is called "Tomas" because my boyfriend knows I like Smoke from MK, so he let me put it.

TW: sfw, cute, fluff, the Lin Kuei trio can turn into kittens too!

✧ headcanons from neko bi han ✧

Oh no... The Lin Kuei trio have become cute nekos!

You really didn't know how to deal with the three ninjas now as nekos, mainly because Bi Han was going to tease poor Tomas even more, his little ears were gray, Bi Han's were black, just like Kuai Liang's and each one would take on a different personality. combinatorial with his current neko form.

Bi Han is like an elegant and skittish black cat, he can transform into a smaller kitten too, but he is still extremely grumpy and likes to knock things over on purpose when he takes on a black kitten form ── he is the type who sees a mug at the end of the table and deliberately knocks it over just to see your reaction, soon transforming back into a humanoid neko and saying that he "didn't realize what he did."

He's really the one who gives the most work out of the entire trio, especially when he realizes that you're paying more attention to his brothers than to him. He will also coo on your lap and scratch and bite you if you don't pet his tail ── regardless of whether he is like neko or totally kitten, he needs your affection and to be spoiled by you.

Tomas is a more fearful and quiet neko, like a Siamese cat ── with white fur and small gray spots. He was scared by the transformation but quickly got used to it, mainly because he kept biting his own fluffy tail. (He will whine and complain when you forbid him from biting him, his big blue eyes will bore into you while he would just go somewhere alone. )

The ninja will also try to play with his older brother when they are both in shape. kitten, but Bi Han will hit him and kick him out of his side (like in those videos of kittens fighting and pawing each other) he will come back meowing and crying at you, saying that his brother was mean to him.

(Bi Han will just turn his face away and go back to pretending nothing happened while he waited for you to pet his head.)

Regardless of whether he is as neko or not, the slavic ninja is extremely sensitive, enjoying playing and having your attention ── He's really not as worried about changing shape and becoming fully human again like his brothers, he has you taking care of him and a warm bed, hot milk and love.

He will stay on top of you while you sleep (please don't complain to him, he knows he is heavy but he will just want you to massage his gray ears while he purrs happily and yawns showing his fangs. He will also turn into a kitten sometimes to go for a walk around and also for you to carry him in your arms.)

Kuai Liang is the calmest of all, he doesn't ask for affection and doesn't want to be taken care of ── but he also won't complain if you pet him. When he turns into a kitten, he will be the orange kitten type, running around and being equally silly.

He is also responsible for taking care of Tomas, sometimes you will see the two of them walking together like kittens, playing with some balls of wool that you left loose, while Bi Han will fight with Liang for being so inelegant (later you will seeing the grandmaster also playing with balls of wool with his brothers is a rare scene where the three are together).

Kuai will also spend most of the time sleeping, you can feel his arms and claws on you during the night while he sleeps again ── if he accidentally hurts you he will apologize and lower his little ears while hiding his face in the sheets.

You'll also have to share a bed with the three of them, so be prepared to stay up all night listening to the three cat men's loud roars.

You will be responsible for taking them out for a walk and stopping Tomas from running away at the first opportunity he sees something that catches his attention. So every time you ask them to transform back into kittens to make it easier for you to take them from one place to another.

You'll see them watching cartoons while you take care of the Lin Kuei appointments in Bi Han's place (he'll just purr and say he can't write down the papers because he's too tired, and he'll still be on your lap while you write everything down, listening to him tell you to do it faster and pay attention to him and his brothers.)

Overall you'll have to be very patient, but it's worth it after seeing the three of them sleeping peacefully with their ears flopping happily.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆.

♡⁠˖ 》 my ao3 profile

♡⁠˖ 》 my janitor a.i pfp

♡⁠˖ 》 my character a.i pfp

[maevelin]

The entrapment thing.

So...did I like that scene? No. As a book reader I liked it even LESS.

I won't even get to the point where it was Colin who actively did his best to 'trap' Penelope, by consistently exchanging letters with her, dancing twice in balls, no chaperones over and OVER, demolishing her chances with Debling, 'ruining' her in a carriage LOUDLY with open curtains, having all sexual power over her because sure she is giving consent but she does not exactly know what she is consenting to, creating an engagement before she can have time to actually think about it and without the permission of her family and only presenting said engagement to her mother as a matter of fact and taking her daughter away to their new house without chaperone. I mean...my sweet summer child you are a chaotic TRAP in a human form.

However as a show-viewer I understand it and it kind of makes sense given Colin's background. Given his Bridgerton pride and his "I am a gentleman" attitude but most of all...his past traumatic experience.

The Marina thing has been a great shock for Colin. Colin has always been sensitive and on a certain level innocent and naive compared to his brothers. The shock he had with Marina shaped a new world view for him. It hurt his pride, his feelings and it shaped his character forward.

So we have a male character that has had his own trauma and insecurities and those can manifest at any time.

When he accuses Penelope of trapping him it is like...his worst insecurities coming to surface and he can't control them because he is hurting given how what he feels for Penelope is far greater that what he ever felt for Marina.

However we also need to see how Colin views his worth. At this point he is like...two out of two lied to me. Used me. 'Trapped me'. That alone is a massive hit to his self-esteem and we already know he had issues with that (given how he actively changed his personality to be able to function inside society).

When Colin lashes out to Penelope "then what I good am I to you."...It is basically all his insecurity coming out in waves. Because for Marina he was only good enough to cover for an unplanned pregnancy. She quite made it very clear to him even in S2 where she basically rejected him by telling him that he was not needed at all.

So that was his worth.

For Penelope, he has PTSD flashbacks of entrapment but then she is like...No, I do not need you to fix my problems which is contradictory for him because what good is he to Penelope then? She has power. He has not. She does not need him in THAT way (thus the conundrum of the trap). What other worth could he possibly have? It is unfathomable to him to be loved in such a a degree that his worth would be just that...being himself. Being loved not because he is there to serve a purpose but because he is worthy of love by being himself.

I am not even pointing out how at this point he even gets to the altar and when Penelope falters he is the one smiling encouragingly to her and is the most happy man to every be trapped (like he is one step away from: TRAP ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE I BEG OF YOU LOL)

Colin also sees himself as a protector and before he saw all layers of Penelope he viewed her with his own rose-colored glasses that saw her as a virginal damsel in distress needing of his constant protection and care. She was the shy, innocent wallflower he got to save at each ball, and the girl without any protector he had to save from Jack Featherington and after the Marina fiasco that gave him worth. Self worth and he felt as if that was stripped away from. Again.

So even though I hated that accusation I could see where he was coming from and it was growth for him in the end to be...I am in love with a BRAVE woman that has no need of protection and she only needs me to love her and she...loves me. That's it. She loves me. I am loved. No strings attached. I am loved.

Penelope telling to Colin that "I LOVE YOU", that I can live without you, you gave me more confidence and pleasure but I will solve my own problems and what matters is that I am CHOOSING YOU, because I LOVE YOU.

That is something Colin didn't even know he needed. So his was hurt, his behavior reflected that hurt but in the end he grew and got to appreciate having a woman with which they could be equals and he could be himself without pretending to either be a rake or to be the "protector" society has deemed very woman needs as a damsel in distress. It was different sides of the same coin and something both Colin and Penelope needed to work with.

[shitsndgiggs]

Well I know you have a lot of Kenan request but can you write Ferdi Kadıoğlu's sister x Kenan.

They kept it as a secret at first because they were thinking he could be angry but Ferdi finds out and he didnt give a reaction like they were expecting.

APPROVAL FROM FERDI - KENAN YILDIZ

Ferdi finding out about your relationship with Kenan

Kenan Yildiz x ferdi kadıoğlu’s sister! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Dating Kenan was a whirlwind of emotions, from the stolen glances to the secret dates, and the excitement of keeping our relationship under wraps.

But there was always a looming cloud over us—my brother, Ferdi. As much as Kenan and I loved each other, we both knew that Ferdi could be a bit overprotective, especially when it came to me.

We kept our relationship a secret, not because we wanted to, but because we were worried about how Ferdi would react.

Kenan respected my brother, not just as a teammate for the national team, but as someone who had always looked out for me. Still, we both knew we couldn’t keep it a secret forever.

The night Ferdi found out started off like any other. Kenan and I were at his apartment, enjoying a quiet evening together.

We had been careful not to leave any traces of our relationship, but I guess our luck ran out.

Kenan was making a snack, moving around the kitchen with ease, while I sat on the counter, swinging my legs and laughing at his attempts to flip the pancakes

He finally managed to get one to flip perfectly, and I clapped my hands, proud of his progress.

“You’re getting better,” I teased, reaching out to steal a piece of the pancake.

Kenan grinned, coming closer to offer me a fork. “Only because I have a good teacher.”

I smiled, about to reply when my phone buzzed on the counter. I picked it up, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Ferdi’s name on the screen.

“Hey, Ferdi,” I answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked, his voice sounding curious rather than suspicious.

“I’m… just out,” I said vaguely, glancing at Kenan, who was raising an eyebrow at me.

“Out where?” Ferdi pressed.

Kenan shot me a playful smirk, and I mouthed, “Stop it!” at him, trying not to laugh.

“I’m, um… at a friend’s place,” I said, hoping Ferdi wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Which friend?” he asked, his tone suddenly more serious.

I hesitated for a moment, and that’s when I realized Kenan had gone silent. He was looking at me with a mix of curiosity and concern, clearlypicking up on my nervousness.

Before I could come up with a lie, Ferdi spoke again. “Never mind, I’ll just come over. Send me the address.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. There was no way I could hide this now. “Ferdi, wait, you don’t have to—” I started, but he had already hung up.

I looked at Kenan, panic written all over my face. “He’s coming over.”

Kenan’s eyes widened. “Now?”

I nodded, my mind racing. “What do we do?

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess we just have to tell him the truth.”

I bit my lip, feeling a knot form in my stomach. I knew Kenan was right, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. The thought of my brother walking in and finding out like this was enough to make me want to crawl under a rock.

We didn’t have much time to think it over. In what felt like seconds, there was a knock at the door, and my heart nearly stopped. Kenan looked at me, his expression softening as he took my hand.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I nodded, trying to take comfort in his words as he went to open the door. Ferdi walked in, looking around the apartment before his eyes landed on me sitting on the counter, and then on Kenan standing beside me.

His expression shifted as he took in the scene, a mix of confusion and realization crossing his face.

“Wait… are you two…” Ferdi started, his voice trailing off.

I held my breath, not knowing what to say. Kenan stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “Ferdi, we’ve been dating for a while now. We didn’t want to keep it from you, but we were worried about how you’d react.”

Ferdi blinked, looking between the two of us as if trying to process the information. There was a long, tense pause, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

Then, to my surprise, Ferdi’s expression softened. He let out a breath and shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s you, Kenan.”

I stared at him in shock, not expecting that response at all. “You’re… not mad?”

Ferdi chuckled, walking over to stand beside me. “Mad? No. I mean, sure, I’m a little annoyed you kept it from me, but I’d rather it be Kenan than anyone else. I know he’ll take care of you.”

Kenan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, visibly relaxing. “Thanks, man. I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Ferdi smiled, giving Kenan a light punch on the shoulder. “You better.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, the relief washing over me like a wave. All this time, I had been so worried about how Ferdi would react, and now that it was out in the open, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

“Come on,” Ferdi said, turning to me with a grin. “You guys owe me a proper explanation. And I want some of that pancake Kenan made.”

Kenan laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed another plate. “I’ll get you some.”

[sadesluvr]

hi! I was wondering if I could request something angst/fluff where the reader defends Mike to his aunt Jane and the custody case worker about how he gives his all to take care of Abby by himself? I wish someone could have advocated for him during the scene where they discuss the case and his aunt talks down on him a lot :’( thanks so much for sharing your writing!

A/N: Hi Anon, thank you for the ask and being patient! My inbox was a little crazy…It wasn’t specified what relationship they have, so it’s neutral, and can be read platonically or romantically. I hope you like it :) 

When Mike had asked you to accompany him to a meeting with Abby’s safeguarding officer and their she-devil of a relative - Aunt Jane - you’d said dropped your things without hesitation. You knew it was going to be rough, as the woman had been on him practically since the day their mother had been buried, but you never expected to be blindsided. Still, from the moment you’d walked into the room and seen the catatonic man with a briefcase clutched to his chest, you knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“Just look at my nephew — It's not even 10:00 and he can barely keep his eyes open!” 

That’s because he can’t sleep properly. He’s literally on prescription pills, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?

“And this degenerate is who they trust with the wellbeing of a mentally ill child?”

Degenerate was such a strong, vile word. You’d visibly flinched at it, both in disgust and agitation. Mike hadn’t seemed to react, but you knew that deep down he was internalising each and every word that was leaving the woman’s mouth. 

Abby is not mentally ill, she’s just introverted. All kids are different. 

“You’re the doctor, and you're making me feel like I'm the crazy one - and after what he did to that poor man…”

Oh, of course it was time to break out the tears. Luckily no one - bar herself - was buying it, instead producing a deep collective sigh shared between yourself, Mike and Valerie. Even though the display was all fabricated, you knew that there was a darker side to her behaviour. She’d probably grown up entitled; being able to cry her way out of things so she could mould her victim and bend those in her path to her will. You were livid, and you were sure Mike was too.

“I have tried to play nice - but I have to think about Abby now…Enough is enough - Doug —” 

The click of the briefcase and a rustling of papers brought the final blow. She wanted custody, and there was a high chance that - should the case go to court - she would get it. From the corner of your eye, you cast a glance over at Mike, watching as he let out a sigh and straightened his back as he came to terms with what was in front of him. His hands trembled slightly, and he bit his lip, mind likely racing to find the appropriate words. With a cocked brow he looked up at you, and you ran your tongue over your lips before pursing them. 

You didn’t want to hold back anymore.

“Pardon my language, but this is bullshit,” you spoke, and Jane seemed amused by your sudden aggression. Valerie looked at you with wide eyes, but subtly nodded her head for you to go on. “Mike is a good carer, and he has been for the past few years,”

“Have you not listened to anything at all?” the blonde woman scoffed. “Abby is sick. She’s not progressing like her peers,”

“Obviously, sickness runs in the family,” you said pointedly. “We’ll all be damned if Abby has a fraction of whatever you’ve got going on up there,”

“Are you implying that I’m some sort of sociopath? It’ll say a lot when a judge grants her to me instead of him,”

“Can you stop using Abby as some kind of bargaining chip?” you said, rolling your eyes. “She’s a human. A growing girl who’s lost her family at such a young age, and Mike is the only real person she has left! Yes, he’s made mistakes, but what parent hasn’t?”

Mike’s heart swelled slightly at the flippant use of such a strong word. He was always the ‘older brother’, forgetting that he was basically two things.

“Mike was barely an adult when your sister died, but he’s done a hell of a job becoming one. He’s never missed a doctor's appointment, spends half of whatever shit salary he earns on keeping clothes on her back, and he’s even sitting here silently, not acting out because Abby means just that much to him– ” you spat, feeling your heart race as it pumped blood furiously around your body. Pausing, you loosened your jaw and dropped your shoulders. Your voice had certainly escalated, and the last thing you needed was to be detained.

Mike’s brown eyes were wide, and there was a small smile that lay hidden under his flushed face. He didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’d really fucking needed that.

“--- Take it from someone with experience…You don’t separate those two. They’re a package deal.” you said softly, glancing over at him again, reminiscing on the moment you’d met them. Being close to the pair, you’d seen it all; the good, the bad and the frequently ugly, but you’d never once doubted Abby’s love for her brother. It was evident that your speech, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t mean much, but you knew you were going to fight like hell beside Mike to make it a small part of a larger story.

They were going to get their happy ending.

[daisyblog]

YN in This Is Us

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is Louis's sister and Harry's girlfriend, and appears in clips in One Direction: This Is Us. Warning: mild swearing

***

“Whether we're together or apart, we can both remove the masks and admit we regret it from the start” Louis and Niall both sing behind YN as they all walk through the backstage area.

YN continues walking beside Louis as they both head towards the stage area, Liam and Niall are a few steps in front of them talking about how good they're feeling now they’re standing in the 02 Arena. As YN walks between Louis and Helene, Louis swings his arm around his sisters shoulder as they continue to walk towards the stage. --- The next scene shows Harry in his white t-shirt and black shorts kicking a football to Louis, whilst Paul explains that it’s their first day of rehearsals and in the background, YN is sat with Niall and Louis's friend Oli watching her brother and boyfriend. Louis kicks the ball so hard that it flies between Paul and Will and almost hits them. “Heads Will”, Louis shouts as a warning. In the background of the scene, YN's voice can be heard “Lou..be careful will ya”, and the camera shows Harry chuckling at Louis's antics.

--- Louis is sitting on top of one of the tour black boxes in the hallway “I was never really a fan of boybands before One Direction..like I remember me sister YN always listening to some boy group..and it just wasn’t for me you know”. --- The boys are in the open space attempting to practice their choreography. Harry is skipping around topless displaying his tattoos and swinging his white t-shirt in the air, whilst Paul is trying to give them instructions. YN can be seen standing with Louis and Liam with her pinched fingers in front of her leaning forwards and back and laughing at each other and their ridiculous attempt at a dance move. In the corner of the screen, Harry is caught staring at YN with a slight smirk on his face…”YN you’re supposed to be helping me with these lot…not joining in” Paul playfully scolded. --- “I don’t know if any of you hav’ seen my first audition..but it was horrendous..I hope it doesn’t make any part of this movie” Louis states and the clip of Louis auditioning on The X Factor is shown. A clip from The X Factor is shown where Simon is telling the boys on the show who the final contents are and who is going through to the show. “I can see me mum and YN” Louis explains whilst waving his hand under his chin “and they're going yeah yeah yeah…and I'm like no..this clearly means no” Louis continues his hand movement. --- The boys were at New York City's Madison Square Garden getting ready to perform for the sold-out show. The boys were messing around on the stage, Louis and Liam were doing a dance together and the others running from one part to the other, whilst practising Last First Kiss.

Niall and Harry’s Mum’s were sitting in the back of a horse cart having a tour of the city, explaining how emotional they were about seeing their babies perform at Madison Square Garden in a few hours. Meanwhile, Niall is pushing Harry around the hallway in a large blue bin, and YN can be seen walking down the hallways with Liam after going to find him for Lou to style his hair. YN stops by the doorway that Niall is about to push the bin through..”What are you doin’?” YN asks the pair whilst giggling, Niall continues to chuckle and Harry begins to sing “I’m in the mood for dancing, romancing” the two bodyguards shake their head at the scene in front of them. --- “Even if one member of your family is in the audience..it adds to the nerves” Louis begins to explain whilst sitting in the chair beside Liam “All me family are gonna be ‘ere and I’m just nervous..you know” Liam adds to Louis's statement “For all our families to be together in this place and being here is..like amazing”. --- Jay was writing on the red telephone box “my baby first born Louis xx” as YN stood beside her in the merch shop. YN stood by the merch counter with her Mum and Karen, Liam’s Mum, whilst they explained to the girls behind that they wanted to buy a cardboard stand-up of their boys so that they can take it home and say goodnight to it when the boys are on tour. “Can I have a Louis one?” Johannah asked “YN..are you goin’ to get a Harry one?” Her Mum teased, as she and Karen laughed at YN's playful glare. Karen begins to get upset when talking about how she knew Liam would be big but never that big and how she misses him when he’s on tour. YN puts her arm around her to comfort her and says “Aww..Karen don’t cry”. --- “With The X Factor…Harry went to an audition..and never came home again” Robin, Harry’s Stepfather explained “You weren’t ready for that..were you?” he turned to ask Anne. “No..as a mother I should be taking him places..and showing him things and.. it..turned around for him to bring us here..it takes a bit of getting used to..it feels quite surreal” Anne spoke softly. Anne is then seen walking down the hallways of the venue and immediately pulls Harry into a big hug “I’ve missed you” she says into his hair and YN is seen just behind them smiling at the loving moment between Harry and his Mum. Anne then greets YN with a hug and kiss on the cheek “How are you my love?”.

--- Louis is sitting in the chair in front of YN reading the playlist for tonight’s show, whilst she blow-drys his hair “Are you stayin’ backstage or sitting with Mum tonight?” he asks his sister. “I’m goin’ to sit with Mum and Anne” YN replied whilst using the brush to move his hair. “Look at you..hangin’ with the in-laws” Louis teased YN to which she pushed his shoulder playful, trying to mask the blush on her cheeks. --- Before YN heads up to her seat with her family and the boy's families, the crew members and families are seen giving the boys words of encouragement and hugs. YN hugged and wished Zayn, Niall and Liam good luck before wrapping her arms around her brother's neck “Good luck..you’re gonna smash it” the camera picks up. Moving on to hug her boyfriend…the fans noticed the hug lasting longer than the others and Harry leaving a subtle peck on YN's temple. --- The boys and the crew are all waiting in the airport for the flight, some are lying across the small uncomfortable chairs and some are laying on the floor using bags and coats as a pillow.

Niall is awake and laying on the small sofa next to Louis, who’s sleeping with his hand resting under his head. Harry is laying on the floor wearing his signature black jeans and brown thick coat, despite not being able to see YN's face as it's tucked into Harry’s chest, fans are quick to spot Harry’s arms wrapped around her.

--- Harry is seen walking towards YN and Louis, in just a pair of boxers, as she's preparing to style her brother's hair. “Morning” Louis greets Harry as he turns to face him, noticing his lack of clothing as he enters his and YN's shared room. “Good morning” Harry’s raspy voice is heard. Louis notices the smirk YN and Harry share as their eyes are glued to each other, to which he raises his eyebrows to the camera in front of him with a teasing glint in his eye. After YN sprays Louis's hair with some hairspray, Harry takes his place in the chair in front of YN. Harry starts pretending to play the piano and making strange noises as YN attempts to cut his hair and Louis is laying across your bed also contributing to the noises, “Keep still will ya..I’m gonna end up messin’ it up” YN tells Harry who looks at Louis with a sheepish smile. But in true Louis and Harry style, they continue their childish behaviour and laugh at YN's unamused expression. --- The boys are waiting backstage, ready to perform at the 1D Japan party. YN is sat on the stool behind the drumkit, and Louis is standing behind her trying to show her how to play them. “Little Things” Harry suggests for them to practice before heading out to perform. Liam and Zayn are harmonising, whilst Niall and Louis add their own version of the song. Harry comes into the shot where YN is standing with Louis, Liam and Niall…beginning to poke her cheek ”And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth, 'cause it's you, oh, it's you, It's you, they add up to”

--- Harry is adjusting the beanie on his head as he’s explaining to the camera crew, whilst going down the escalator, “We rarely get a day off when we’re visiting places..so it’s nice to walk around…and explore” after moving the string of his mask that’s sitting under his chin, Harry moves to place a hand on YN's shoulder as she's standing in front of him waiting to get off the escalator. Sitting in the back of the van, Harry is telling Niall about his day of exploring “Me and YN went around wearing one of those surgical masks”. “Oh you did?..Where did you get them?” Niall asked “I bought a packet of five.. I've got a spare one that you can have” Harry offered. “Sick” Niall replied.

--- “You know we don’t get to see our families as much as we used to” Niall explains “But..um..we have like a road family”. Harry is sitting topless on the plain black chair in front of the large mirror waving his hands around at the camera filming, as YN is drying his hair, instructed by Lou who was trying to get Lux down for a nap. “I’m Paul Higgins and I’m their tour manager” Paul introduces himself, sitting behind a table covered with different papers. Paul is seen shouting about the boys having five minutes left until they need to be on stage. YN is sat on the brown sofa next to her brother whilst he cheekily looks at Paul and says “Thank you Dad”. “The boys are very grounded and that comes from the people around them” Paul explains. “Lou and YN gives us the best haircuts” Liam praises as Lou is shaving his hair and YN is standing next to her holding some of the equipment. “Aww thank you”. Lou and YN both say in unison. In the next frame, Liam takes the hairspray out of YN's hand whilst she's trying to tidy up his hair and begins to spray hers. “AHHH…LIAM” YN screams. Harry then grabs YN and Lou, both being off guard by the sudden movement and pulls them both into a group cuddle whilst expressing his appreciation “I love my hair..thanks girls”. “Don’t touch me” Lou repeats. --- It’s Paul's birthday and everyone celebrates in one of the backstage rooms, with a song and a round chocolate cake. Harry thought it would be a good idea to smear chocolate icing over YN's cheek and forehead. The camera captures Harry trying to crawl his way out of the crowded room to escape her grip, but he’s too slow and YN manages to climb on top of him. “No..No” Harry is heard shouting and protesting as YN wipes a large dollop of icing onto his cheek. Louis’s voice is heard from inside the room “I told you not to mess with her Harry lad”. Harry then gets up from the floor and runs after YN down the hallway of the venue and eventually wrapping his arm around her front and lifting YN from the floor and rubbing his cheek blindly against her face, making them both laugh uncontrollably together. --- The boys are talking about each other and what they bring to the band. Zayn begins by describing Harry as a perfect pop star who was born for it. Louis is sitting on one of the tour boxes “Harry is definitely charming…I mean he’s won over a Tomlinson you know what I mean”. “He’s just being Harry and he likes going out and having a good time” Liam adds “and doesn’t want to waste a moment”. --- Liam and Harry are fishing, well...Harry is leaning his head against the side of the wall. They're both talking about their time on The X Factor and how they remembered little discussions they had…even one about kicking Zayn out of the band because he didn’t turn up to a coffee meeting once.

And in an unseen clip, Harry admitted “I got so nervous..like talking to YN”. “Aww mate…I can’t talk to girls” Liam agreed “What was your..like protocol when talking to her?”. “I threw things at her” Harry laughed at his joke. “You threw things at her?” Liam repeated. "No..I'm only joking..I used to make her cups of tea". “Well it clearly worked mate”. --- Louis is skateboarding through the arena and grabs a box of popcorn from the table, with YN running behind him. Louis is then driving a forklift truck around, with YN sitting on the back holding on while he speeds around the room. “Watch out..” Louis announces. “The Tomlinsons are coming through” and the security guards are trying to catch them both to take the keys off Louis. --- In another clip, YN and Harry are outside in the car park of the venue running from Preston and Paddy, Harry’s security. They both managed to get to the metal fence but as they tried crawling underneath, Preston caught hold of YN's foot to stop her. “C’mon now YN” as he helped her up. “I am their Dad on the road” Paul explains. “We have a good working relationship..the only issue I've got is their all a pain in the arse..including YN” Paul adds with a chuckle. --- YN is walking through a crowded town with Louis, Liam and Zayn when some fans spot the group. Liam asks if Louis wants to go into one of the shops to the left of them. More fans start to recognise the boys and get excited, and more and more fans appear screaming and shouting. The security guards with them all are quick to try and get them all into the shop, protectively Louis wraps his arm around his sister's shoulder to keep her close to him. Once the security ushers the group into the shop and closes the front doors, fans start singing What Makes You Beautiful whilst blocking the store. YN continues to stand near Louis and Zayn as security decides how to get them all out of there safely. --- At the airport waiting to go home, Harry is laying on the floor whilst Lou’s boyfriend spins him around in circles by his legs. YN is seen in the background standing close to Harry whilst he hugs Zayn goodbye. Louis then comes over to his sister and wraps his arms around her shoulders and is heard telling her to phone him later as YN is going home with Harry. --- Harry is back home in his hometown, Homles Chapel, and is walking through a field area that’s not far from his mum’s house. “I like Homles Chapel because every other part of my life has changed…apart from like coming here it’s like exactly the same” Harry speaks as he’s walking across the short grass. As he approaches the water and some trees, he begins to speak “I kissed a girl down here..it was a bit further down..we were like against a tree” and cheekily smiles at the camera “I won't tell you who though…she’s got a scary older brother” Harry joked “..but it was pretty steamy”. --- Jay is wearing her red Yorkshire Tea apron whilst she’s sorting through clothes on the bed in front of her explaining how Louis has only been home five times since he auditioned for The X Factor. YN and Louis are visiting their great-grandmother at her home in Doncaster. “Hello luv’” Louis greets her with a hug. YN follows behind, “Hello Nan” as YN pulls her into a loving cuddle. Louis is sitting on the sofa with their Nan with an arm around her shoulder whilst she explains it's been a long time since she’s seen them both, but she does have photos of the two siblings along with their other siblings up on her walls that she looks at every day. --- In another clip, Harry has just woken up and is laying on his bare stomach under a white duvet. “We’ve got a show today” he rasps in his husky morning voice. Fans are quick to spot YN's smaller frame lying on the pillow next to his and he glances at her and mutters “I’m exhausted”. ***

[batneko]

Okay I got another bowuigi idea.

Koopa Kingdom gets infested with Legally-Distinct-From-Tribbles and nobody can figure out how to get rid of them, they're eating everything, fire only makes them multiply somehow, and one day Bowser is trying to come up with ideas and mutters "What would Princess Peach do?" and one of his minions says "Call the Mario Brothers probably." They both have a good laugh over this.

But time goes by and the not!Tribbles are still everywhere, and finally Bowser is like "okay I'm at least going to ASK, can't hurt to ask, but I'll address it to the green one, that'll be less embarrassing."

Meanwhile Luigi has been feeling a little down about himself, so when he gets the letter he's like "Maybe if I do it it'll prove I can solve problems by myself!" (he was the only one who was doubting this). So he rolls up to the castle determined to Be A Hero and only changes his mind and turns around three times along the way.

Bowser is kind of a dick at first, naturally, but Luigi manages to stand up for himself and insist on being paid at least. This is an extermination job, not a rescue mission. After some back and forth Bowser agrees to give him a Kidnapping Rain Check - next time Luigi just isn't feeling it, he can use the rain check and make Bowser give up on his latest Kidnap Peach plan.

So Luigi goes around, studies the not!Tribbles, comes up with some plans for keeping them out of the food, etc. At first he's having to power through the fear, but eventually he realizes Bowser is mostly bluster (this time) and focuses more on doing the job.

A lot of time passes with both of them being surprised by each other. Luigi learns that Bowser rules through respect, not fear, and that he cares about others. Bowser learns that Luigi is more than just an inferior copy of his brother. I'm picturing a scene where Bowser (who has been casually talking down to Luigi this whole time) says something insulting, and Luigi snaps back with an insult of his own, and Bowser is so surprised that he busts out in genuine laughter. "Okay that's a good one. If you ever repeat it I'll throw you off something, but that's pretty good."

And maybe a scene where they're planning a Public Awareness Campaign so people will keep their food in sealed containers and stop burning the not!Tribbles already seriously you're only making it worse, and as they're talking about it Bowser Jr. wanders in and demands to be able to help. Bowser is like “Sure, you can make the artwork for all the posters we're going to put up, here's what I need you to draw.” Luigi watches this and thinks to himself, in order, “huh, I didn't think Bowser would be a good dad” and then “wait a minute, why didn't I think Bowser would be a good dad? That's not fair to him,” and then “wait since when have I cared about being fair to Bowser?”

Bowser definitely falls first, though he doesn't realize it for longer. He finds himself actually caring what Luigi thinks of him, and gets angry at himself for caring. At one point they're looking for cracks that the not!Tribbles might be sneaking in through, and have to take down a portrait of Peach that Bowser had put up in a secluded corner. Once that's done he completely forgets to put it back up for like two weeks, only realizing when he stumbles over it that he's barely thought of her at all lately.

Luigi, on the other hand, one day thinks to himself “Bowser is so cute when he laughs” and realizes instantly that he's sunk.

Finally they start making progress with the not!Tribbles, so Luigi is like “okay I'll come back in a week and see if the numbers have gone down,” and Bowser is like “yeah sure whatever.” But the next day he's listless and grouchy (he'd barely been grouchy at all lately, what's up with that?) and takes until almost evening to understand he misses Luigi. They both miss each other.

When Luigi finally comes back the not!Tribbles have gone down, but not enough, so he's back to coming over every day to do more research. Bowser is still barely clinging to denial, but he's started trying to look nicer, polishing his shell and combing his hair. Luigi notices and tries very hard not to notice.

If fire makes them multiply, maybe ice prevents it? So they put together some kind of giant mousetrap with lots of food and successfully manage to trap most of the not!Tribbles in a giant ice cube. It only takes another couple of days to track down the stragglers. They've done it! Luigi has saved (for a certain value of “saved”) the Koopa Kingdom.

And... that's it. There's no reason for him to stay anymore. Bowser scribbles out the rain check and starts to hand it to him... And stops.

“Don't take it.”

“What?”

“Don't take that. It's useless.”

“You're not going to honor it?” Luigi asks. He'd almost been allowing himself to think Bowser might like him back, a little bit, but now he's reminded that there's been someone more important to him since before all this started. Before they even met.

“I mean you're never going to have a reason to use it!” Bowser says.

He's never going to kidnap Peach again. At least, not the way he used to. Bowser still wants to take over the Mushroom Kingdom – as well as everywhere else, but Peach... she doesn't mean anything to him anymore.

He can't bring himself to say that though, and frustrated and angry he snaps at Luigi to take something else from the castle too, treasure or tools, anything he wants. And goes up to his bedroom to mope.

It's not until days later that he realizes one of his portraits is missing. It was a good one, he thought he looked really imposing in it, so he yells at people until somebody admits that the portrait was the thing Luigi took as his “payment.”

It wouldn't have been worth much. The frame was nice, but not THAT nice. If Luigi took Bowser's portrait it must be because he wanted it.

Bowser writes Luigi another letter, this time inviting him to dinner.

[lilycolbertsstuff]

Ok let’s talk all things Bridgerton.

First things first, we’ve all binged it the day that it came out, right?

Second, Nicola Coughlan the woman that you are.

Now let’s move on to the serious stuff.

I have to say that so far I’m liking this season but there are some things that I really don’t understand, namely all the subplots. Some of them should’ve either been cut or they should’ve had less screen time. I understand for example the introduction of Francesca and John because of how their story plays out in the future but what about the Mondriches? Don’t get me wrong I like their characters and their chemistry but I really don’t get why they’re such a prominent part of this season, hopefully their presence will be justified in part 2 for it would be heartbreaking to see unnecessary hate towards them.

Another aspect I liked is Eloise and Cressida’s friendship. In the beginning I didn’t think it would be something genuine but turns out that El does actually come to care for Cressida, who is finally not just relegated to being the mean girl.

Kate and Anthony are a dream to watch on screen, their chemistry is out of this world and they most definitely deserve the long ass honeymoon for god knows how hard these two have worked for their families.

I found Francesca to be such an interesting character and her and John were cute but the side couple that I’m really curious about is Violet and lady Danbury’s brother.

The Featheringtons were a highlight of this season to me. They had no business being this funny. Every time a scene with them came on I was prepared to laugh.

Queen Charlotte and lady Danbury are such icons you can’t help but love them.

Last but not least, Benedict. My boy what have they done to you? It’s so painfully obvious that they didn’t know what to do with his character because give me a valid reason why his storyline this time around is him going to bed with a widow; I would’ve much rather liked to see him in those artists’ parties or whatever like he did in season one and maybe explore more of that aspect of his personality in preparation for his own season, which hopefully will be next.

Time to talk about the leads:

I wish we could’ve seen more of Colin’s identity crisis but I feel like whenever the script was lacking Luke did a great job compensating with his body language and facial expressions. Also can we all agree that he’s just so whipped for Pen after their first kiss?

As a fellow wallflower I really related to the scenes where Penelope felt frustrated with the ton and all the socialising. I can confirm that even when we get all dolled up and feel confident in our own skin for once it’s still so hard to put ourselves out there. We feel called by the wall and somehow we find it more fascinating to observe all the different dynamics going on around us rather than actively taking part in them, even if sometimes we want to.

The scenes where Pen threw herself on her bed and sighed? Yep, I felt that.

I honestly didn’t mind that Colin and Pen got together by the end of the first part of the season for we’ve been watching the build up to their relationship for three seasons now. These two have been friends for ages so it’s not like they had to go through all that getting to know each other phase. Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that part 2 will focus on the unfolding of the lady whistledown storyline and having Colin and Pen be together makes more sense because now he loves and wants to marry her leading to an even more crushing reveal.

The carriage scene?! I died and resurrected in the span of like 3 minutes, and that’s just their first intimate scene I don’t know what will happen to me with the ones to come.

These were my overall thoughts on Bridgerton season 3. I can’t wait till part 2 comes out but also I will be deep in exam season so it’ll be a wild ride, let’s hope everything turns out for the best.🐝🩵

[necrotic-nephilim]

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.