#in the same vein if you wait to interact with people until YOU have the most perfect script that will theoretically win everyone over

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

you're really cool & i want to interact more. but i'm terrible at interacting :')

hehe tyty ♡

[okkotsui]

gojo satoru ⇄ you, yours.

synopsis : gojo satoru always acts like the man you met at the start of your relationship, he never does change— from his flirting skills to checking you out like the two of you just came together and eventually how he fucked you so good just like how the two of you had your first times.

tags / warnings : fem!reader, established relationship, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex, size difference, belly bulge, overstimulation, tell me if i missed something.

author’s notes : this is what my pussy nearly halfly made when she was horknee, this is my first time to make smut, please be nice— also half assed, sorry.

gojo was in love with you— he always is, he loves the way you talk, you move, and you interact with people and care about everything around you. how sweet and endearing you are with him, he falls for you harder than he thought.

it was weird, the way you two met, it was the other way around, he is your fanboy and you were his idol the first he laid his eyes on you. you were beautiful— gorgeous, even. he wished you upon the stars and eventually, came true.

he forgets who he is when he is with you, he doesn't even mind being the gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive when he is with you. when he does, he's just there, taking care of you, so sweet, so gentle, it makes his heart burst from giving you everything in a delicate manner.

he is used to people taking care of him, praising how incredible he is but when he saw you from the moment he laid his eyes upon you? he wanted to waste other people's efforts for him and give all his attention and care to you.

in his eyes, you were a star, a celebrity, once he wished you upon a star, they gave him you— where he cannot stop staring at you, he cannot stop loving you that it just overflows within his heart.

and just like now, the way your walls hugged his cock that you are always struggling to take because of how big and girthy he is, he cannot stop smiling teasingly and look at how hot you are every time you do.

you always tell him that sitting on him both on his face and cock was your dream of a lifetime but here you are, you did not know that it was much harder to get him inside of you when you are riding him than having him in different positions.

“oh fuck, ‘toru!” oh the way you moan and whine his name makes him even harder than he usually is, feeling him grow a bit inside of you makes your eyes roll from ecstasy as he grips and spanks your ass to guide you down his dick.

having him inside you already gives you butterflies, what else if he already started moving his hands around you, as well as sucking each part of your body, especially your tits that he truly adores?

satoru is trying his best not to slam you down on his dick, his penetrating your walls was enough to snap you though he still needs to treat you both like a princess and his slut at the same time.

his hands were on your ass, kneading its plush, your pussy was so tight around him, he was controlling himself. as he waits for you to take your time, he sucks on your right boob. god, he loves both of you ass and tits.

as you felt him, you sank to him, fully taking him in as you whined, leaning into him, his mouth is now on the other tit, sucking it until he is satisfied.

you started moving as his hands were still on you, holding you behind as you clenched every time you bounced on him, moaning as you felt his visible vein from his cock.

"daddy..." every movement you are giving him causes your tits to bounce with you, hearing his deep voice groan as he removes his mouth from your nipples.

you looked so hot that he started meeting your bounces each time you went down on him, as you did, your folds were squeezing him and you wanted to milk him sooner than he anticipated.

"yeah baby, fuck..." his voice was deep as he groaned, his eyes were shut for a second, feeling your soft walls wrapped around him so fine.

he felt like he was gonna cum sooner than he expected, how can he not? you’re so good at riding his cock or even taking it as he did in various positions.

every time you sank on him, you ground your way up as it made him grow bigger than he could, he’s so big that you swear you can feel him making a small bulge on your stomach, making you moan.

“‘toru, inside me please...” you breathed out as you continued moving yourself on top of him with his hands now on your waist, helping you bring him deeper inside you. “fill me up,”

"are you sure?" he asked, looking at your body as you moved, he bit his lip, gazing into you as he felt something building up within him.

“yes! please! gonna cum...” you whined, nodding, your eyes rolling almost at the back of your head as he hits the right spots within you.

he chuckled lightly from how he noticed your cute face being fucked out. of course, you did not expect him to be this big once you took him, riding on top.

"yeah, cum for me angel..." he whispered, his voice rasping as he felt your pussy tighten from coming down on your ecstasy.

he chased his high, using your body— his hands on your hips, bouncing you as he came inside you as you requested, feeling how hot his seed was within your womb.

your eyes widened as both breathed in and out from releasing. being the usual that he is, he whispered sweet nothings into you, spoiling you even more as you deserved it throughout the night.

as you woke up, you noticed a beautiful engagement ring on your ring finger that made you sob that day when you looked at it.

[shdysders]

forgotten remnants

pairing: jenna ortega & female reader

summary: in which you run into jenna again, but this time, you don't know who she is.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: memory loss, car crash & infertility.

author’s note: does this make sense? i hate this.

The golden bell above the door jingled loudly as you walked into the cafe, a big beaming smile on your face when you entered.

Jenna rose to her feet at the sight of you, trying to move slowly and discreet so your gaze wouldn't turn to her. However, she quickly sat back down in shame when she realized people were staring.

Your eyes were curiously scanning the menu, trying to figure out which one you were going to try today. Trying to find your old favorite.

"Caramel Macchiato." Jenna whispered to herself quietly, gazed fixated on your figure.

She had been sitting at the same place every morning for months, watching you order every single drink from the list.

She kept track on what drink you were on every day, prepared to help out if you ever forgot, but she knew she was too much of a coward to do so.

However, she felt braver today. Pushing pack the anxiety that surrounded her veins as she raised to her feet once again, grunting and sighing carefully as she walked, standing behind you in the line.

Jenna wasn't actually planning to order anything, she just hoped and prayed that you would notice her and start a conversation, like the old you always did with strangers.

Stranger. That's what Jenna was to you now. And it hurt her to bits.

You stood in front of her with your back turned, facing the other way. Almost jumping on you heels as you waited for your turn, like you always used to; you always carried the excitement of a child.

Jenna didn't bother to say anything, she knew that your observation filled mind would notice her eventually. She wasn't exactly hard to miss.

And she was right, just seconds later, you had turned around, your bright eyes meeting hers. It didn't look like you were about to start a conversation at first, but when your gaze fell down to Jenna's stomach and the hand that was placed there, your smile became even brighter.

"How far along are you?" You beamed, joy and excitement being the only emotions in your eyes.

Jenna felt frozen when she met your eyes again after all this time. She hadn't realized how much she missed them until now. She opened her mouth to say something, but her tongue wouldn't dare to move. Her whole body being too focused on the way she looked at you.

You didn't look at her like you once did, your eyes used to be filled with love and affection when you watched her, now they looked like the way you would look at everyone else, filled with admiration and joy, but it just wasn't the same.

Jenna's throat became dry at the thought, but she answered anyway. "Uh. I'm 28 weeks.." she sighed softly, letting her hand fall to her side.

The reality suddenly hit her when she said it out loud. 28 weeks.

It was almost time.

And you wouldn't be there. With her. Like it was planned.

Jenna's change of expression didn't seem to bother you; your beaming smile still being placed on your lips. "You have to be over the moon excited, right?" You leaned in carefully, looking like the excitement was creeping upon you as well.

Of course you thought that. This had been your idea to begin with.

You loved kids, were always great with them too. Jenna had watched you with her nephews and nieces, you were like a natural magnet to them. The second they saw you they had ran up to you, begging for your attention.

It was like you carried a magical touch when it came to engaging and interacting with kids, knowing exactly how to make them feel special and valued.

That's why your entire plans for your future crumbled when you found out you couldn't have kids, not carry them at least.

It had broke you completely. You had felt as if the only reason you were put into this world was to have children, and the fact that you now couldn't do that made it feel like nothing was worth it.

You had talked about kids forever with Jenna, technically the first time you met, explaining your whole plan for the future; what the name of your kids would be and at what age you would like to have them.

Jenna could not understand, not in any way. How come you, the person who wanted children more than anyone in this world, wasn't allowed to?

Jenna wanted to show you that you didn't go through all of that for nothing.

"Sure!" Jenna sighed deeply, loosely shrugging her shoulders, which felt stupid, of course she was excited. It just wouldn't be like she had planned, like you guys had planned, together, not at all.

"I guess I'm just.." She cut herself off, second guessing if it was the right thing to say. "..scared"

Your gaze softened, and Jenna could feel her knees buckle at the sight, you looked exactly like you used to. It was the gaze that Jenna once fell so hardly for, the softness and warmth in your eyes, that she still loved so deeply.

"How come?" You asked softly, voice full of sweetness and genuine curiosity.

Jenna was not surprised you were suddenly so interested in her, you had always been a people person, talking to strangers you had never seen in your life.

One of the main reasons why she would always bring you to award shows with her, you would do the talking for her so she didn't have to, which always ended up in everyone absolutely adoring you for being so genuine and caring.

You would give random people on the streets compliments out of nowhere, and greet people you didn't have a single clue of who they were. Jenna couldn't understand how you did it, you just did.

"I'm.." Jenna tried to answer, but interrupted herself once again by trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't know why she was sharing all of this with you. But you had that ability; the ability to get everything out of her, whether she liked it or not.

"I'm just alone." She sighed out, almost not daring to look into your eyes. And when you didn't answer, she felt the need to keep going. "I- I mean I have my parents and siblings but I don't have anyone else."

Sure, she had friends, tons of them actually, but it wasn't the same. Even you could understand that was what she meant.

Jenna could feel your curious eyes burning onto her, basically making the 'secrets' melt and fall from her hands, landing in yours. She couldn't help but vent out her whole situation.

It felt stupid. You didn't even know who she was.

"I mean- It's just.. complicated." She basically stuttered, not sure if you were looking into her with a glance full of judgement or just overall confusion.

"I bet he wasn't good enough for you anyway." You stated, sounding supporting. Jenna looked up at you after that, almost feeling like you knew her, like you knew what she was like, at least well enough for you to say that.

However, Jenna felt the need to correct you. "She.. It- It was a she."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across your face. "She wasn't good enough for you then." You spoke hushed, stepping a bit closer to her.

But Jenna couldn't find herself smiling. You were good enough for her. You would always be good enough for her, way too good. She didn't deserve you in this lifetime, and she certainly wouldn't in the next one either.

Nothing had been your fault. Nothing. The accident hadn't been your fault. The coma hadn't been your fault. Nothing had.

"It wasn't her fault." Jenna quickly let out, before she saw you turning around, the cashier saying that it was your turn.

Jenna wasn't sure if you had heard her, but she hoped you did. She prayed that you did. Even though you would never know she was talking about you, she still wanted you to know.

She was about to turn around and walk back to her seat in the corner of the coffee shop, but before she had the time to do so, she heard your voice talking to her.

"It was nice talking to you." You spoke, smiling at her. "I really hope everything goes well for you and your baby."

Jenna nodded carefully in return, "It was nice talking to you too.. and thank you." She put her hands on her stomach, smiling softly at you as she saw you turn your attention back to the woman at the pay desk.

Jenna was fully aware that this would be the first and last time she would be brave enough to walk up to you.

It had almost felt unbearable. She had been wanting nothing but to walk away from there and pretend she never walked up to you, but she also didn't want to leave. It had been heavenly to hear your voice directed to her, your gaze fixated on her and you attention on her.

She sometimes felt herself wonder if you ever missed her. Although she knew you didn't. You probably didn't even know she existed til now.

She'd give anything for things to go back to the way things used to be, she wanted to go back to the time when you had first told her your name.

Jenna missed the way you would treat her. She missed your tenderness and never ending compliments and kisses, your constant energy and the warmth your presence would provide.

She missed the way she was when she was with you. How happiness was the only feeling she could feel. Distress and pain wouldn't matter whenever she was with you. You always showed her the most beautiful things in life.

All of that was gone now. And it wouldn't come back, it wasn't allowed. Not from your parents, not from Jenna's parents. Everyone had expressed that it was all for the best.

But Jenna knew it wasn't. How would they know?

She felt like a part of her would always wait for you to come back. And it hurt her to bits knowing that she would always be in your past, not in your future.

How could she begin again? How could she ever try to love someone new, someone who wasn't you?

[alessiasfreckles]

Lonely

Lucy Bronze & reader (platonic)

after moving to barcelona, everything is hard; the language, your anxiety, the loneliness. after a particularly rough day, lucy finds you crying in the changing room and is determined to help.

A/N: based off of this ask! i tried to make it different enough to Fitting In but still along the same vein, i hope you like it ✨

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

The sun was shining, it was a beautiful (albeit a bit cold) day in Barcelona, you were playing for one of the best women’s football teams in the world, and everything was perfect.

Well, it should have been. You knew that. Really, there was no reason for you to be anything but happy. When friends and family back home asked you how you were getting on, you told them about the gorgeous scenery, the weather, and how much fun you were having. It wasn’t all a lie, the scenery really was incredible, and the weather was nicer than it was in England, at the very least. 

But, if you were being honest? Things were really fucking hard. 

You were trying to learn Spanish, really, you were, but languages had never been your thing. Everyone had told you before you left that “it’ll be easy, once you’re surrounded by it!”. Bullshit. You went through the day understanding single words and phrases here and there, but for the most part, it was like your brain just shut off when people started talking. 

The language issue, of course, didn’t exactly help your social situation. You’d always found it hard to make friends, even in your native language. Trying to do it in a whole other language felt like an impossible task. The team tried to be welcoming, of course, but most of the time your brain was too exhausted from trying to keep up with the language for you to socialise. The other international players helped a little and would translate things for you sometimes, but you were the newest recruit and everyone else’s Spanish was miles better than yours. You could tell that the other players were making an effort to speak Spanish, some even learning Catalan, and you didn’t want to be the stereotypical English speaking person who couldn’t be bothered to speak the language of the country they were in. So, when everyone would burst out laughing at something Aitana said, you laughed along, hoping no one would catch on to the fact that you hadn’t understood it. 

You had hoped to become friends with Lucy and Keira, thinking that it would be nice to have at least a couple other English players to talk to, but they seemed so settled in their lives here that you felt like you were intruding. Lucy spent a lot of time with the Spanish girls and seemed to talk Spanish, or at least a mix of Spanish and English, most of the time, and Keira did the same. Even when you had the opportunity to talk to them, your social anxiety would flare up, and you’d find yourself overthinking and debating what to say for so long that by the time you’d decided, the moment had passed. 

So, you kept to yourself, mostly. You spent a lot of time observing your teammates, their interactions with one another. Trying to figure out how you could interact with them, then losing the courage to do so. 

Your teammates felt bad, they could tell that you hadn’t settled in and that you were the outsider of the group, but with so much training and all of the games the team had, it was all too easy to forget about everything outside of football.

That’s how, on that beautiful day in Barcelona, after a particularly tough training session, you found yourself crying in an empty changing room. You’d waited until everyone went home, stalling and saying you wanted to run a few more laps. Once the changing room was empty, you collapsed on a bench, staring into space, not even aware of the tears beginning to stream down your face. You were so tired of having to try so hard all the time, and if you were honest, you were really lonely. 

The door to the changing room bangs open, making you jump, and you look up to see Lucy standing there carrying a box of towels. The look of surprise on her face quickly changes to one of concern when she realises you’re crying, as you quickly try to wipe away your tears, white-hot embarrassment flooding your body.

“Woah, y/n, are you okay? What’s wrong, do you need me to get someone?” Lucy asks, putting the box on the bench closest to her. She stays by the door, looking like she’s not sure whether to come closer and comfort you or to leave to get help.

“Um, no, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you say, sniffing a little and laughing awkwardly. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow as she comes closer and lets the door swing shut. “Yeah, right, pull the other one. Clearly something’s not okay, or else you wouldn’t be sat here, crying, alone.”

“Yeah, I guess you got me there,” you smile weakly. “But really, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not nothing,” she says firmly, sitting down next to you. “What’s going on?”

You shrug, not wanting to burden her with your problems and not sure where to start. “It’s just a lot, sometimes, y’know?”

She nods sympathetically. “The language?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m trying, I really am, but it’s just so hard, and I don’t know, maybe I’m not trying hard enough, but I am trying, really-”

“Hey,” she interrupts you, placing a hand on your back. “It’s okay. It is hard. Everyone can see that you’re trying.”

“Really?” you say, doubt clouding your mind. “Because I feel like I understand way less than everyone thinks I do. Most of the time I’m just copying other people’s reactions, or nodding along.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I did that at first, too. It gets easier after a while, I promise.”

“I’m not sure it will. I don’t-”, you start, breaking off as you struggle to figure out what you wanted to say. “I don’t know how to do a lot of social stuff. Talking to people. I can’t even handle it in English most of the time, to be honest. I feel like even without the language problem, there’s the me problem.”

She lets out a laugh at that, but it’s not a mean one. “What do you mean, a you problem?”

“The me problem,” you explain. “I feel like I’m like, an alien or something. I don’t know how to behave, how to be a real human like the rest of you.” 

At that, she puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you to be facing her. “Y/n,” she says, a serious look on her face. “You’re a real human.”

“No, I know that I’m a real human,” you roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle. Lucy smiles, glad to have made you laugh. “I just don’t feel like it sometimes. I don’t know how to interact with people. Like, what do people talk about? What do people do when they’re hanging out? It was fine with my friends back home, because we’ve known each other forever, they know what I’m like and I know what they’re like. But here, it’s all so… different.”

Lucy stands, holding out a hand to you. When you take it she pulls you up, a determined look on her face. “Right, well, it sounds like we have to get you feeling more comfortable here. So, you’re going to come back to my place, we’re going to play something on the Playstation or watch something on TV, and tonight a couple of the girls are coming over. But only a couple, and I’ll tell them that we’re having an English night, no speaking Spanish allowed, alright?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t want to be a bother-” you start, but she quickly cuts you off.

“Nonsense!” she says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “We look out for each other on this team. You’re a part of the team, y/n. So we’ll look out for you too. Got it?”

You nod, feeling nervous but excited, even hopeful. 

And she was right. It ended up being one of the best evenings you’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t long before you started to feel like you really were not just a part of the team, but a part of the family. “English” nights even became a regular thing, the Spanish and other international players eager for a chance to practise their English even more (not that they had to, it seemed like they were all basically fluent). Lucy and Keira tried to help you with the language, giving you their tips. Honestly? Their tips weren’t much help, and it was still pretty hard. But as difficult as it was, you had to admit that, slowly but surely, it was all getting easier, especially with friends by your side.

[hulloitsdani]

What do u think Kiran is

How do u think the order sees kiran

*slowly sits up in my chair*

I think Kiran is a very normal person. This is someone you and I have met before. Be that from the other side of grocery store cashier, waiting in the same elevator, or walking by on a crosswalk. Kiran is a civilian from our world trying to roll with the punches of being warped somewhere completely alien. And you can see it in how they conduct themselves.

I always have a lot of fun writing Kiran’s dialogue because their casual modern speech almost feels like a dialect in comparison to the more formal fantasy tone everyone else speaks with. An “ain’t” will never exit Alfonse’s mouth, you know? And there’s a difference in “Do you have gold?” vs “You got gold?” To me, this gives Kiran an air of unfamiliarity to anyone they interact with. Let’s use Grima as an example, because it doesn’t sound like this grammatical change would make much of difference until Kiran has the audacity to hit Grima with a bro mid sentence. But that’s just how they talk. And as sweet and friendly as they are, there’s always moments like that to remind that no one has the cultural context to fully understand Kiran. Except for the audience, who can realize that Kiran let the customer service voice drop to talk to Grima like he’s an actual person.

And that’s just about how they talk! This view is only emphasized by every other thing about them! They’re a lovable goof, which is normal chill person behavior in the audience’s eyes but feels REALLY ODD to the characters of FE’s medieval fantasy war setting. There is this air of unknown about them that the more socially perceptive will pick up on and will try to come to a conclusion about. Example, I imagine Soren would interpret a lot of this as a dangerous and deeply annoying lack of intelligence from someone he has the displeasure of sharing a tactics table with. Or looping back to the Grima example, he would totally think Kiran has greedy ulterior motives behind that pleasant facade. It takes a lot of work for those types to realize that the discrepancy present isn’t really any of those things. But I also wouldn’t be too surprised if Kiran doesn’t try to directly prove any of those assumptions wrong unless they have to.

Why? Well now it’s time for the implications! Oh how we love the implications.

Because the Summoner is a different story. No one has any fucking clue what that is.

I can tell you what Kiran has pieced together so far. Summoning people from across time and space is apparently not easy. It’s not some school of magical study that some mage could pull off with enough time and research. Trust, Eitri tried. It’s a lot of complex moving parts. For example, the contracts. The contracts Kiran automatically binds their summoned to don’t even compare to the ones Veronica used in book 1. They are far more intense and infinitely harder to break. The only way out of them is if Kiran wills it so. Not even death is an option, because Kiran can come in for the revive. If they had to guess, it’s an older, more completed version of the art. Something lost to time. But no matter the case, Kiran has the ability to take full control of whoever they manage to summon. From a lowly farmer to the divine. And their power only grows.

In a similar vein, if there was any character to canonically see the hud, I think it would be Kiran. It’s genuinely part of their power set. I have previously described Kiran as the party mage until Veronica shows up to be the actual mage, but it would be way more accurate to call them a mystic/seer. They see the map, everyone’s stats, and is doing a fast amount of math to give the combat forecast. Then, upon processing all this information their enemies couldn’t dream of having at their disposal, Kiran can telepathically communicate any change in plans to anyone under contract. Kiran is not inherently some great tactician the moment they touch ground in Askr; they simply can do things no one else can. They’re learning the actual tactics part on the fly. This makes them simultaneously the largest ace up the Order’s sleeve and potentially its biggest liability. If they fall, it could cause a whole system cascade. By that same token, some of the biggest threats the Order has faced are the ones who do their research and rightfully target Kiran.

Now. Thinking critically about all that. That’s downright terrifying. A ridiculous amount of power has been dropped callously into Kiran’s lap and they have to work extremely hard to be moral with it. It’s terrifyingly easy not to be. It would actively take less effort to ‘take the reins’ as it were. But in order to be able to sleep at night ever again, they go the extra mile to not invalidate the will of their summoned. To take over like that. To make a colony of worker bees out of people. Because oh dear god they just summoned a child and the fact that they could easily force them to fight and die for them, only to be revived and do it all over again, is HAUNTING. No. No the Order has an in house orphanage now. This kid is getting adopted and cared for god damnit or Kiran might just pop a blood vessel. And sure that child is going to be a child and there will never be a world where they get along with everyone else, but that’s just going to need be a problem they address when they get there and not an excuse to use Hubris; the power set. Now replace the word child with everyone they ever summoned and you have the wider philosophy they apply to the entire Order.

They’re hyper aware of the power imbalance. They hate it with every bone in their body. They work really hard to correct it in whatever way they can.

So Kiran might not jump on the opportunity to correct those who think lesser of them. It’s… oddly comforting to know someone is keeping a critical eye on them. Holding them accountable. Especially since so much of the order just thinks of them as this quirky yet well meaning host. And, really, what can they even do about that? They have gone over the contract with every hero they summon and despite that they still choose to stay. So, what, do they try to inspire more mistrust? The problem with that they would have to actually do acts that intentionally inspire mistrust. And even if that was successful they can’t just waste the extra man power because every other month there’s some new divine asshole who wants them all dead. And if they fail that means they have to start their life from square one and god they can’t do that again so—

Just breathe Kiran.

It’s fine. You’re fine. Just breathe.

You have work to do.

[daddyhausen]

could you do 59 and 68 from the nsfw prompt list with hook? love your writing btw!

• for so long, i’ve waited — hook •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { hook masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } — six months away was pure torture and tyler was determined to prove just how much he’s missed you

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, face sitting, oral sex { female receiving } switch!reader, female orgasm squirting

{ word count } — 700

{ pairing } — fem!reader x hook

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ 59 } — if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs

{ 68 } — come sit on my face and i’ll show you how much i’ve missed you

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

you waited anxiously as the airport terminal filled with patrons

awaiting family members, friends and lovers

tyler’s plane had just landed and the anxiety that had flooded your veins only increased

it had been six long months since you’d last seen him, last felt him

sexting and late night facetime calls did not do it justice

and quite frankly, you’d been deprived recently

it did not feel the same without his touch

you scanned the terminal, noticing passengers already beginning their exit

your eyes locked on tyler’s, widening with relief as a heavy sigh filled your lungs

you raced towards him, almost knocking over others in your attempt to duck and squeeze past them

he engulfed you in his arms, holding you close

inhaling your scent as if it was the only thing keeping him alive

“god, i missed you” he mumbled into the crook of your neck

peppering small kisses to the skin

“me too…” you responded, voice quivering slightly, trying to hold back choked sobs

he held you for a moment, just basking in the warmth of your embrace

“if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your thighs”

his voice rumbled deeply against your skin,

feeling his hands sneak around your waist, dipping into the curves of your hips

so dangerously close to your ass

“tyler, there’s people around” you reminded him, the both of you still standing in the middle of the airport terminal

“don’t act like you’ve never been fucked in public, princess”

he let his lips linger against your jawline a few seconds longer than normal

still holding your body close, so desperate from being away for so long

“i know but, i don’t want these other people to see or hear. i want you all to myself”

you cupped his cheeks in your palms, thumbs lightly grazing atop the apples of his cheeks

finding yourself getting lost in his warm irises

“well then let’s get you home then, shall we?”

he gave you a small kiss, eventually parting from the embrace

you’d never seen a man with such desperation to get home

he practically raced to the car, throwing his bags in the back seat with no hesitation

he insisted he’d drive, despite just getting off a ten hour flight

you adored his persistence, even when you offered to drive in his place

the drive home felt shorter than normal

mostly because of tyler’s impatient driving

he could not even wait until the two of you were inside

his hands already roaming your figure

his breathing laboured, hungry and lustful

dragging you to your shared bedroom

not even bothering to strip himself as he laid face up on the bed

“come sit on my face and i’ll show you how much i’ve missed you”

you were quick to comply, already shedding your clothing before he’d even finished his sentence

crawling up his frame, your breasts full and round, bouncing slightly with your movements

he craned his neck upward, lightly licking your nipples before you pushed him back down into the mattress

“wait” you remarked with a dominant tone tyler was not used to

“yes ma’am” he retorted with enthusiasm

licking his lips as your void hovered over his tongue

moaning into you as you sink onto his tongue

his hands instantly reached up to grab your waist

holding you down as he devoured you

he ate you out like a man possessed

drinking you in as you dripped onto his tongue

“oh fuck!-“ you whined, taking a fistful of loose curls

the brown sugar colour complemented your skin so well

his tongue flicked across your clit, sending shivers between your thighs

watching his eyes roll back into his skull as he sampled your taste

feeling himself grow firm in his sweatpants as the moments ticked by

your hips swirling against his tongue, feeling lighter than air upon release

tyler was in heaven, moaning against your walls, feeling you clench around his tongue

a small whine of displeasure leaving his lips when you pulled away

your hand fell to the bulge in his sweatpants

palming his cock lightly

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna show you how much i missed you too”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[phaelimbs]

— Farah had never really grasped the definition of love. (John Price x Reader)

As a child, she'd seen the way her parents interacted with one another, her observant eyes witnessing each gesture between them, from touches to treatments. The way she and Hadir had been raised— to fight, to honor, and to love.

But she had never seen anything like that after the tragedy. The horror that fell among the Karim siblings and the rest of the city as they've fallen in the hands of a bloodthirsty General Barkov, when all dreams had been shattered and the laughter that surrounded the people were replaced by terror. Farah had to shut her feelings at such a young age, and face the cruelty of the world in order to survive. She was born a leader, with a clear mind, and a visual of hope for the ruined country.

That was until she had met a man named John Price.

Burned in Farah's mind was only war, strategy, and death. This was done for the love for her country, the love for her brothers, sisters, and cousins that sacrificed their lives to fight against invaders, but that did not mean she understood love, specifically towards someone.

That thought remained in her, when a certain Lieutenant whose name was John Price meets Farah during their escape from Barkov's hands, when at Death's door and incredibly outnumbered by Russian fighters. Among the war was a young man with a story, and a girl with a hope for freedom.

"Lieutenant, tell me a story." Her voice lowered to a mere whisper, enough for the man beside her to hear as they'd silently marched their way to surround the enemy that had been distracted by the others.

The man did not question her request, for being in the battlefield for quite some time meant he'd witnessed, and experienced longing for a piece of something to calm one's nerves with as they risked their life, and so he complied.

He racked his brain for something to tell as he crouched behind shelves and debris, until one specific image entered his mind.

Lieutenant Price knew Farah was trusted, with reasons he did not know, he just felt. Reluctantly, he gives a brief story to her, surrounding a lover waiting for him back at home, about celebrating their first monthsary in a few days, after a while of pursuing her heart.

Curiosity rushed in Farah's veins, trying to understand that certain feeling of love, of giddiness, of happiness, of coming home to someone. She knew she did not yet know wholeheartedly what it means to love, and to understand, but the thought had given her a sense of hope. For the first time in years, she truly felt alive. A girl with a mission to live life with normalcy and dreams. But for now, she had to fight for it first, for now, she had to lead.

The attack was a success, a taste of freedom for the people as they've freed themselves from suffering. The Lieutenant and the Commander separated ways, to fight for different dreams.

And so, Farah Karim had decided to translate his words into her own, but with a vision of freedom, that her definition of love was a free country of Urzikstan.

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

It took a while for their paths to cross once again, a decade after their encounter that changed her life. Both had exceedingly grown during the years, and Farah had grown wiser, tougher, and braver.

Once again meeting the Lieutenant in the middle of a war— she now learned he had become a Captain, joining forces with him just as they had done before to defeat a certain enemy, the General that ruined the lives of many. Their reunion was no happiness full of tears and hugs, but for Farah, it still felt nice to see the person who saved your life, a person who helped you witness another day to fight; and as for Price, a person whose life you have saved, and helped remain strong.

In the back of Farah's mind remains the story, and for the second time, she had asked of him the same request. For her, it no longer felt like just a story, but a dream. A dream of something pleasing, of happiness, of contentment in life. A beacon of motivation that amidst the blood and death, of toughness and bravery was beauty, a place of respite and vulnerability.

Thankfully, the Captain complied once more. Giving her the satisfaction of knowing the continuation of the dream that gave her hope, and she was not disappointed.

Farah learns the lover of almost a month is now a spouse of 6 years, the realization that he wanted to marry her came after 4 years of dating, when they'd gone through a rough patch, and it took Price a near near-death encounter to realize she was the person he wanted to come home to after every mission, every deployment that left him in ruins or in triumph, that lead to him proposing without a ring right as soon as he had reunited with her. All Price needed was her, and it was enough for him to live and survive through hell.

She also learns that the lover is now a mother of their month-old child.

And it was beautiful, the idea of domesticity flickered across her mind as she grasped every word, because there was something to him as he talked about it, a touch of lightness within him as he gave her bits of information about his personal life, there was a glint in his eyes that shone as bright as it did ten years ago. A respite amidst the war, a place of happiness, of contentment.

And Farah knew right then and there that that is what it was to love someone, to fight for them, to fight with them, and to live for them. She finally understood the Captain.

Because she had found it in the eyes of blue, of a fighter alongside her, of Alex Keller.

(A/N: Hello ! Thank you so much for reading, it is my first time writing and I'm not sure if I did a decent job, feel free to criticize if you wish. Have a good day !)

[dianneking]

Intoxicated - Larissa x Reader -  Drink Two. Truly Bloody Mary.

Summary: Larissa is a handsy drunk. Vampire!Teacher!Reader is a sad drunk. This fact, and their inability to talk about their feelings, blows what could simply be a drunken accident out of proportion. 

Angst! Drama! Drunkenness! 

Part one is  here.

Cross posted on AO3 here.

Here's my fanfiction masterlist.

---

A/N: I am quite ambivalent about this second part. It totally spun out of control from my original idea, but at the same time it kinda made sense, so I didn't want to scrap this second chapter to make a new one. I might revisit this in the future to have an alternative second chapter, but not anytime soon for sure. Beware of the content warnings below if you are at risk of being triggered.

TW second chapter: Drinking, intoxicated people, blood, swearing, angst, mentions of dubious consent, talk of death, talk of self harm, in-depth talk of suicidality. Please be safe if you are fragile, no fic is worth you suffering. 

“I know you have something to take off your chest.” Vlad closed the door to your quarters behind him with his shoulder, and toed his shoes off, his hands busy with the paper bag, crystal carafe and two shot glasses he was holding.

“Good evening to you too, Vlad, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this lovely Saturday night?” You sniped sarcastically. You were already in your nightclothes, not expecting any visitors, especially not him, friend or not.

The only person you had any interest in spending time with, which happened to be your boss and the person who had tried to seduce you while completely drunk, had apparently decided to pretend you had dropped off the face of the Earth, so you didn’t really want to partake in any other sort of interpersonal interaction for these two blissfully empty rest days. You even managed to swap patrolling duties with another colleague, just as to have an excuse to lock yourself in your room for the whole weekend.

“I don’t know what happened to you in the past days, but this sulking and hiding away is not something that is acceptable for a young stripping vampire such as yourself. So here I am coming to the rescue like the knight in shining armor that I am.”

He set down the two shot glasses and the decanter on your desk and proceeded to take a clear bottle and some blood packs from his paper bag.

“Vlad are you serious?”

“Truly Bloody Mary shots!” He announced cheerfully, tossing the now empty bag over his shoulder and perching precariously on the edge of the desk to pour the liquids in the carafe allowing them to mix properly. You were sitting in the only chair available, but that didn’t seem to dissuade him in the least. “The only way to get through heartache, as my old gramma always said, bless her nonexistent soul. Do you want to start talking without it or wait until they start to loosen your tongue?”

“Start pouring, you soulless bastard.”

“You know you love me, darling”

“That’s the only reason why you’re still alive.”

“Well, as alive as possible.”

“Truth.”

He expertly poured the first shots and held one out for you to take.

“What should we toast to?”

“To your gramma, bless her nonexistent soul.”

“Indeed! To my bunica!”

That started a long series of toasts, each growing more and more absurd as the mix of blood and alcohol started to have its effect on the both of you.

“To…to alcohol!” You proposed, raising the shot glass once again “That brings out fiends from the most frigid bitches!”

“Hear hear!” Vlad downed his quickly, before pouring some more. The carafe was starting to be quite emptier than when you started out. “To those frigid bitches, may the alcohol always flow in their veins!”

You nodded solemnly, trying to raise your glass to match his, but only managing to slosh it around. “To those bitches, like Principal Weems!”

Vlad had been halfway through his shot when you added your two cents to the toast and he choked, spraying alcoholic blood all over the front of your nightclothes.

“Gee, thanks for that, Vlady, I really needed to upgrade my wardrobe to baby vampire’s first feeding”

He was still trying to recatch his breath from the coughing access that had followed his accidental inhalation of the shot.

“I’m sorry…what?” He managed to choke out “What does Weems have to do with this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were talking of frigid bitches who need alcohol to loosen up”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it seems a bit too specific…did something happen between you and Weems? You’ve been giving each other the cold shoulder since Outreach Day.”

“Of course nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. And she has been the one giving me the cold shoulder, that ungrateful piece of s-“

“Woah woah woah. Hold your horses. That doesn’t sound like the reaction one has when nothing happened, so here.” Vlad got a hold of your favorite mug, lying abandoned on the other side of your desk, and poured a generous amount of Truly Bloody Mary mix. “Drink up and tell daddy Vladdy what happened to make you so pissed at her. I honestly thought you had the biggest crush on her for ages.”

You took a sip of the concoction and suddenly sadness overwhelmed you like a tidal wave. Oh, how you wished you could go back to when you simply had a crush for her, when all you did was admire her from afar and imagine how her lips would feel like on your skin…

You suddenly broke into sobs, holding onto your mug with both hands as big, salty tears came rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a dam had broken within you and you simply couldn’t stop.

“Oh my baby. What happened? I’m so sorry.” Vlad was really astonished at your sudden outburst, but he tried to comfort you as best as he could, jumping down from the table to pull you out of your seat and in an awkward hug, the drink still somewhat caught between you as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “Here, let’s sit on the bed, and tell me everything.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your tears into submission. The sobbing stopped, but your eyes kept stubbornly watering. You took a large gulp of the drink in your hand, the vodka burning your throat as if you hadn’t been drinking it for the past – how long had it been? –  Time was starting to lose all meaning in your alcohol-induced haze.

“I did have a crush on her. I…I think I still do.” You tried to start explaining, Vlad’s hand still rubbing your back and giving you the comfort you needed to keep going, but how could you even explain? “But now it’s painful. Do you understand? I don’t want to have a crush on her anymore! Not after…” you drank some more, hoping to stop your voice from breaking again.

“After what? What happened?”

“It was the night after the absolute clusterfuck that was Outreach Day and…Laris-Principal Weems…I found her drunk in her office. Like drunk drunk. Like, slurring words and all that jazz drunk. I…I thought I could help her” You couldn’t help yourself, you spat the words out, angry at your past self for putting yourself into that situation out of the kindness of your heart.

“And?” Vlad was completely captivated by the story now. Even his hand has stopped his comforting motion on your back. He was suspended in the moment.

“And well, it turns out that Larissa Weems is one handsy drunk.”

“Oh my God. You two slept together?”

“No, Vlad! Who do you take me for? Didn’t you hear the part where she was completely out of it because she was drunk? She probably thought I was someone else anyway.” You didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of your voice. The tears were not stopping, and you were starting to feel hollow inside. Vlad’s hand trembled slightly on your back before it resumed its circles. His voice trembled too, as he murmured in the softest voice you had ever heard him use.

“Darling did she…do things to you that you didn’t want?” The question took you aback. You didn’t expect Vlad to care that much. You were friends, yes, but more of the boisterous, over-the-top, ‘let’s get drunk together and have fun’ kind. This gentleness was not something you were used to.

“No, no I wouldn’t say that. I did want her to do that and much more to me, it’s just… I wanted her to be aware that she was doing it. And when she sobered up, she made it extremely clear that it was just the alcohol, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me. Not even small talk apparently.”

The sobs were back, and this time you didn’t even try to put a stop to them. You just put your mug down, and hid your face in Vlad’s chest, his other hand coming to wrap around you as he whispered comforting words “I’m so so sorry, dear. It’ll be alright, I promise. Tomorrow we’ll find a solution… Shh, It’ll be alright. I’m here with you.”

After what could have been minutes, hours or full days, your sad hiccupping subsided, and you tentatively detached from Vlad, “Thank you, I… I think I needed that.”

“What are friends for, darling?”

“Still, that was a lot to unload on you. I appreciate it.”

He stood up, picking up his paper bag from the floor, and putting all of the things back.

“It was my pleasure. Will you be alright tonight? Would you like me to stay?”

“I think I’ll be ok.” You could still feel the alcohol buzzing through your body, but the tidal wave of repressed emotions was gone. You picked up the mug again and drank it dry. “Thank you for the Truly Bloodies, your gramma was right as always”

“Ah, my bunica, she never missed a beat. Except that of her heart, of course.”

“Bless her nonexistent soul”

“Quite right. Sleep well, darling, and if you need me, feel free to come knocking. Tonight or anytime.”

You grasped his arm in an affectionate gesture. “Thank you.” You stressed the words, trying to impart how much you meant them.

And with a toothy grin, he was gone, living you so very alone.

Suddenly your small quarters felt almost claustrophobic around you. You needed air and you needed it now. You opened your door, and slipped through it, your bare feet not making any sound as they carried you like a ghost through the halls and up a small staff-only flight of stairs that brought you to one of your favorite places in Nevermore: the teachers’ terrace. It was a lovely place to come and think, and you were especially fond of it during the night. This is where you had come to decompress after Outreach Day, before your traitorous steps had brought you into Larissa’s grasp. You hadn’t come here since.

Just another bit of happiness that had been stolen from you in that fateful night. The knot was back into your throat, a mix of sadness, regret, and frustration. You had honestly thought you didn’t have any tears to cry anymore, but you can feel them prickling at your eyes nonetheless, undaunted.

Man, who’d have thought that you would turn out to be a sad drunk?

You took a deep breath, taking in the endless sky, riddled with stars. It was so breathtakingly beautiful. You let the tears fall again, unable to pinpoint even your emotions anymore. Were you sad at having had a glimpse of something with Larissa, just to have it so ruthlessly taken away? Or angry at her treatment of you from the morning after onwards? Both? Neither?

Slowly you walked up to your favorite place to sit, the parapet. There was something just so mesmerizing in sitting so far up over the world, the night breeze gently caressing your face, drying the tear tracks on your face before new ones were made in a never-ending sad game of chase. It was as if you were floating among the stars, offering them your heartbreak, and drinking their light in exchange.

It wasn’t the door opening behind you that diverted your attention from the heavens above, nor it was the surprised intake of breath of the person behind you; you were too deeply entrenched in your connection for that, tears freely flowing now, dripping onto your ruined nightclothes. It was the slow, controlled, almost circumspect sound of heels clacking on the stone floor of the terrace that finally did it. You turned your head and cursed your horrible luck.

Larissa stood frozen where she had been when you turned to look at her. Her eyes were open, alarmed, almost…scared. She was holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hey there.” Her voice was high-pitched and uncomfortable. Why was she talking to you now, after going to great pains to avoid you? She didn’t make any fucking sense, and you didn’t want to waste any more time than you already did trying to interpret her behavior. You turned back to admiring the night sky, hoping that she would get the hint.

Clack. Another step in your direction, followed by a pause.

Clack. It was as if she was walking in slow motion and your slowly-sobering brain could not even try to understand why.

“I just wanted to check if everything is okay.” The words sounded wrong in that high, anxious tone, and at the same time they rang slightly familiar to you, like a memory out of context, or a déjà-vu. You kept ignoring her, choosing instead to look down on the faint lights of Jericho just some way off. They were not as pretty as the stars.

Clack.

Clack.

“May I talk with you?”

You wanted to scoff at her, but what came out was a strangled sob. You angrily wiped at your eyes, but the tears just kept falling.  Why did she have to come and torture you after ignoring you for days?

“Oh so now you want to talk?”

Clack.

“Please. I…I know you are in pain. I understand” What was up with the pleading, desperate undertones that her voice had? You couldn’t even begin to imagine. And you didn’t care.

Clack.

The last clack was right behind you. Strong arms snaked around your frame, hoisting you bodily off your seat and depositing gracelessly in a heap on the terrace floor. Larissa crouched between you and the parapet, her eyes still wide, her breathing labored with exertion.

“What the fuck, Larissa?” Whatever you had been expecting, a bodily assault was not it. The tears stopped, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel like you were hollow and broken inside. “Are you drunk, again?”

She physically recoiled, as if you had slapped her.

“No…no. I just. There’s ways to get help. Please.”

You shook your head, still not understanding. Were you being insulted here? “Are you telling me I should get help? Have you seen yourself?”

Her face scrunched up in a grimace, and she lowered her gaze “I… I know I’m not the right person for this but I can call someone else if you’d like. There’s always something that can be done.”

“Larissa, you’re not making any fucking sense right now”

“It’s alright. As long as you keep talking. Just…don’t do anything drastic.”

Keep them talking.  A lightbulb went off in your head. No wonder some of Larissa’s sentences sounded eerily familiar. You had received the same training as she did, when the people from the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline had come a couple of years ago to Nevermore.

“Larissa, I wasn’t about to jump!” The sheer absurdity of the situation dawned on you. That explained the cautious approach, the nervous voice, the bodily removal from your favorite sitting place.

“You…weren’t?”

“Is that what all of this was about? Are you out of your mind?”

Larissa bristled, her temper rising to match your disbelieving tone.

“What was I supposed to think? You were there, in the middle of the night, blood down your front, sitting on the parapet and sobbing your heart out. And that was after days of retiring yourself from interaction with others.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You think I don’t know?” Her voice was high, raw with emotion “How do you think I felt five minutes ago, believing you were ready to kill yourself because when I’m drunk I just cannot keep my bloody hands to myself? I…I don’t want to ever experience that again. I am so sorry to have caused you pain.” You were struck dumb. How did this become such a huge deal all of a sudden? Yes, she had broken your heart, but that was, as much as you liked to be dramatic, not a matter of life or death. You would get over it, especially if she stopped acting so fucking weird.

Larissa passed a distraught hand on her face, smudging the dark lines around her eyes. She changed her position and sat on the stone floor instead of crouching. She sighed, a sad, deep, all-encompassing sound of defeat.

“There’s another school for outcasts, up in Canada. It mainly caters to werewolves and doesn’t have the longstanding tradition that Nevermore has, but it will do, I guess.”

Your point, exactly. What was she going on about?

“Oh, so now you want to send me away? So that I’m out of sight and not at risk of reminding you of-“

“Of course not. I meant for myself. I will resign.” This shocked you out of your passive-aggressive state. Larissa leaving the school? That was absurd.

“You can’t be serious. Larissa, you are Nevermore. You cannot just resign over a drunken mistake. One that almost no one knows about, as well. I will keep my mouth shut, and…and keep out of your way if you want.”

“That is not what I want! Can’t you see? I molested you! You were helping me and in my drunken state I thought that meant that you reciprocated my feelings for you and I just assaulted you, my employee! I am not fit to be in charge of Nevermore. Hell, I shouldn’t even be in charge of a fish tank!”

“You…you have feelings for me?”

“Of all of what I said that’s what you choose to focus on? That’s not the point here! Being attracted to you doesn’t allow me to do things to you that you didn’t want to in the first place.”

You grasped her hand, and she jolted, as if you had tased her.

“Larissa, look at me.” Her blue eyes were full of tears, unguarded like that one fateful night, but this time due to the strength of her emotions, not the alcohol. You were seeing the true Larissa again, not Principal Weems and you would be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it. “I didn’t reject you because I didn’t want your advances. Quite the contrary. But you were drunk, and I was sober, and I didn’t want to take advantage of your uninhibited state just because I had a crush on you for the longest of times. It wasn’t right.”

“You…don’t hate me for what I did to you that night?” She looked so fragile, so incredulous, that you put your other hand on her cheek, a comforting touch.

“Larissa, I don’t think I could hate you even if I tried. Am I mad at you for refusing to talk to me about what happened and ignoring me in the last days? Abso-fucking-lutely. But the only thing that drove me crazy about that night was the fact that I believe that had been my one chance to be with you, when you were too out of it to know it was me.”

“I…I did know it was you. That was what made me that…uninhibited.”

“Would you mind trying that again some other time when the both of us are sober?”

A tremulous smile bloomed on her face. It was a tiny, shy, wobbly thing, but right now, it felt like the biggest success.

“Tomorrow after some hot chocolate at the Weathervane?”

You pressed your lips to hers, a chaste, closed-mouth gesture, full of affection and promise.

“It’s a date, Larissa.”

You stayed there for a while, sitting like kids on the stone floor under the stars, holding your hands, lost in each other’s eyes. When you finally broke the spell, and the both of you climbed back to your feet – with some muttered curse, the cold stone at night wasn’t too kind on the joints for either of you – Larissa jokingly pointed to the darkened stains on the front of your nightgown.

“So, what happened there, did you murder someone before coming up here?”

You chuckled, looping your arm through hers and leading her companionly towards the stairs.

“Well, in vampire culture, there’s this thing called Truly Bloody Marys, or Truly Bloodies if that’s too much of a mouthful…”

[lemotmo]

https://x.com/fionaswhvre/status/1832063203687432350

Curious to hear your thoughts on this (And Ali’s as well if you feel like asking her but no biggie if not)

I have to admit that I still do kinda think he’ll be back if just briefly to wrap that storyline with Buck (or I guess maybe part of me hopes so just so the narrative doesn’t suffer maybe?) but.. this is a good point. Like there is zero reason to not mention him at this point. And they did mention Marisol and hell even Natalia last season.

So idk. I guess I’m conflicted lol. But my expectations of seeing him are very rapidly decreasing these days. And I know people will say well the insta account is still following him but I don’t think that holds as much weight as some people think it does. We all know they are very aware of the state of things these days, Tim included, so I really don’t expect them to unfollow him (if they do) until after season 8 finishes just to avoid the drama it would cause if they did so now.

I got a bunch of asks in the same vein, so I'm just answering them all in this post.

Ali and I did talk about this synopsis earlier. We kinda came to the consensus that fandom has probably made Lou into a much bigger thing than he really was in the first place. He wasn't a part of recurring cast. He was a guest star and a pretty unimportant one at that, because we hardly saw him in 7b. So, he was never important enough to mention in that synopsis in the first place.

Those cameos certainly did a number on the fans. It made Tommy seem so much more important than he really was. While Lou was talking about how BT was 'thriving', the cold reality was that Buck and Tommy hardly shared the screen together and when they did, there was no substance to their interactions.

We're still waiting on a more extensive trailer and whether or not he'll be in it. If he isn't anywhere to be seen? We both agree that there might be a good chance that he is gone.

And let's not forget: no promo, no interaction, no mention of his character or the relationship anywhere...

Also, that link you sent me was very interesting Nonny. It's true, Marisol was mentioned. Articles were written about her and Eddie's relationship and where it would go. They haven't at all done that with Tommy and BT.

It's blatant and certainly in your face. So yeah... 👀

I'm always cautious to say that he really is gone with 100% certainty, because the truth is that we probably won't know for sure until we start watching the episodes.

But yeah, red flags everywhere Nonny! I agree.

[evertidings]

Hi! I'm the anon who was staring into the abyss of No Interactive Fiction Idea- I have managed to claw my way out (thankfully- I thought I would spend a billion years in there/jk) I have decided on the genre being a mashup of Steampunk, Gaslamp Fantasy and Urban Fantasy though! and am slowly working out the worldbuilding details and trying to find plot ideas-😅

eeek i’m happy for you!! wishing you the best ! in case it might help, some other bits of advice i have for starting out:

you don’t have to plan out your story too heavily. as long as you get a grasp on the main plot points and build a solid foundation, you’ll be okay—details can come when you’re writing

if you’re a visual person, making mindmaps might be helpful !

especially when writing fantasy, don’t skimp on worldbuilding. it doesn’t have to be complex, but if your plot relies heavily on the politics of your world or the way it functions, if you don’t explain your world well enough, you’re going to leave your readers confused

don’t go overboard with stats. you might find that you won’t use them all

develop your ros first and foremost as characters before deciding their relationship and dynamic with the mc. this helps flesh them out as an individual and makes them more interesting as a whole

unless you’re already confident, don’t complicate things with a bunch of branches at the beginning. ease yourself into it; it’s okay if things are a bit linear at first

in the same vein, form choices out of the existing narrative, rather than making your story bend to the will of your choices

when creating choices, make sure you acknowledge the mc’s answer. even if it’s something small like picking what to eat for breakfast, it’s gratifying to see the text notice what you picked

take breaks :))

also, i’d recommend not making a blog/posting about your wip until you’re closer to launch. making people wait for a game that’ll come out in six months or might never exist isn’t exactly fun. the closer the launch, the more sneak peeks you’ll have, the more anticipation you can create. good luck !!

[kpolls]

K-polls Rules

Please know that we only accept submissions about K-pop, K-music in general, Korean Dramas and Movies, and Manhwas! Webtoons are very much allowed and encouraged if they're written by a Korean author.

Submit is the word we use, but you send us poll questions through our ask box.

For the most part, I won't be strict about these rules. Especially the interaction rules. These are mostly to prevent fanwars, dogpiling, or hindering people from being truthful because they're afraid of a fandom. There is a lot here but don't worry about it too much. It's just a frame of reference to keep in mind just in case. Check these if you're really worried about what you're going to comment or submit!

Submission Rules:

1. Don't be a monster

Any usage of sl*rs or derogatory language towards minorities or disenfranchised/marginalized people will result in an immediate block. Just general deplorable behavior is not allowed (no, calling someone a bigot or racist is not the same as anything previously mentioned).

2. No rage bait or loaded questions

For example, submitting "why is blank crappy?" is a loaded question with an opinion already built into it. Asking the people who do think it's crappy why they think it is is a better question, but consult the next rule.

Instead of making a new rule I'll just include it here: don't fish for people to agree with you. The example incognitopolls used is "Who else thinks pumpkin spice lattes suck?" and it's not related but still makes for a good example.

No rage bait is self explanatory. Don't submit questions that will clearly insight a fanwar, inherently insults real people, or clearly contributes to a hate train. Referring to rule 7, you are NOT allowed to send polls like "which group/idol/actor/writer etc. do you dislike the most in this lineup".

Once I get more real examples I will expand on this if I can.

3. Do NOT rope real life tragedies or serious event into your submission

Never submit a poll about something serious happening in the community or the industry. This includes idols/actors/writers etc. who are accused of violence (s*xual or non-s*xual), who have recently taken their life, or who have lost someone close to them.

Using him as an example, submitting polls like "Do you think T***l did it?" WILL get you immediately blocked.

We also do not accept polls about non-serious controversies. Just leave them out.

4. Make sure the question isn't too open ended

Something like "people who like blank, why?" doesn't work in most contexts. There are too many answers to give. Incognitopolls can get away with this because the submission is usually extremely specific. In saying this, submissions like "people who are against streaming music, why?" is slightly better than "people who don't like (insert group), why?".

If it requires too many answers, it may not be posted.

5. Joke submissions are allowed (read further)

Inside joke polls are allowed (e.g.: 127 jokes), if you can find a way to make it funny AND make sense as a poll, go right ahead. But please don't spam, repeat polls that have already been posted, or make light of serious topics. This goes without saying, but jokes at the expense of real people are not allowed.

6. No repeat polls or spam

Some topics can be an exception. For instance, if you're going to ask "what's your favorite Le Sserafim title track?" you need to wait until there have been two official Korean comebacks since the last time it was asked. The same goes for questions like "what's your favorite Kdrama from Park Boyoung?", I would wait until the actor has released 2-3 more Kdramas.

If I get an influx of submissions in the same vein, I will use reasonable deduction to rule out if it's spam. Just as a rule of thumb, don't send a bunch of submissions asking what the voters favorite song by 3 or more artists is.

7. Negative polls are allowed

You are allowed to send in polls that ask for simple, innocent opinions. Even if they're negative. This includes "what's your LEAST favorite song". Referring to rule 2, you are NOT allowed to ask for negative opinions on a real person or group. Keep it contained to fictional characters, songs, works, etc.

This does NOT rule out polls asking about the voters' favorite-- for example-- visual, and someone coming in last. Someone has to, it doesn't mean they're being slandered.

8. For now, NSFW or explicit submissions are not allowed

I'll consider making another account or just tagging the NSFW ones as such. I will update you.

However, don't come into my inbox asking people who they think has the biggest hot dog. Don't send me explicit thoughts about real people at all. They will not be published. Unless it's to my writing acc.

Interaction Rules:

1. Don't insult/demean/intimidate the poll takers

Don't rant in the replies or reblogs about how angry people voting for a certain option made you. Don't insult people for choosing an option you don't agree with (e.g.: you've got to be dumb if you picked blank). This includes joking that whoever voted for blank has no taste. This does NOT include reacting in surprise at a certain option being popular/unpopular (e.g.: people dislike blank???).

2. Don't like it? Ignore it.

I would not recommend following or interacting with this account if seeing negative opinions of the things you like upsets you. If you need to block the account, go right ahead. And you're allowed to speak on it if this account upsets you.

However, do not rant under our posts about how upset you are that a poll exists or what choice is winning. This includes claiming that the poll is somehow damaging to an artist's/actor's/writer's etc. reputation, claiming that anything concerning the polls are hate, and what was mentioned in the previous rule.

3. Don't post about/reblog our polls to encourage an option to win

If it's a silly poll, I won't be strict about this (e.g.: things like "which hair color is the best", polls about fictional characters, anything in that vein). But if it is framed in a way that indicates the results are genuinely upsetting you/are hateful/are "incorrect" then I will be a bit more strict.

We can't totally prevent this, but if we see it or it is brought to our attention, we'll do what we can. That could include issuing a warning, blocking the offending blog if the warning is ignored, or even adding groups/topics/shows/fandoms to a banned list if there is a common denominator. Password is yerimiese. We want people to come here for real opinions and feel comfortable giving them.

4. Don't treat our polls as a popularity contest

Very similar to the last two. In general just don't take these too seriously. Anything voted for or said doesn't actually affect you or the things you like.

If your favorite group or actor is last place in a poll, don't take to the comments to try and bolster up their reputation or accolades. No "blank doesn't care about what you guys say, they're too busy cleaning their awards". It was never supposed to be taken that way.

5. Refer to rule number one of the submission rules

Yeah.

Reasons For Being Blocked:

Repeatedly breaking rules in the replies or reblogs despite being warned

Violating submission rule No. 1

Aggression towards me or any moderators

Inciting fanwars or arguing with people in the replies despite receiving a warning

{last updated: 9-6 for grammar and tidying}

[clonerightsagenda]

Ok I'm back on my grind liveblogging the adventures of sad British children who roadtrip to various afterlives. L&Co ep 3, let's go.

While delayed I was pondering the whole Mind Landscape thing from the last episode and wondering if they'll use that to show the skull's face much earlier, although the fact that Lucy can't see him is part of how she willfully ignores that she's doing all that to a real human person. In the same vein she should beat up Marissa's old lady form in the psychic mindscape. *Georgie Crusoe voice* She's great at beating up old ladies. Anyway, onward. Time to meet the first CEO she kills.

Did they have that copy of Hamlet on hand or did George run to the library to do his dramatic research presentation. I say sitting like 2 feet from a copy of Hamlet from high school.

"Mandatory oversight." I'm still kind of amused that TV!DEPRAC actually does stuff instead of book!Barnes showing up on his off hours like "hey a bunch of the most powerful people in London want to murder you. My hands are tied. try to be less annoying. bye"

Fairfax didn't approach them directly in this version? He's covering his ass better

And he didn't prepay them either. How are they going to get his money after they kill him

They're drinking beers…. takes away from these kids going 'god what a fucking day. time to go have a hot chocolate' because they're 14.

Man when I was joking about Lucy having a thing for dead girls this was before I watched her TV counterpart sneak off to psychically commune with one while only wearing a towel. Get it, girl. It being frostbite.

Never mind she was just doing some light workplace theft. Never let it be said she steals mundane office supplies like paper clips.

I'm looking forward to seeing how they do Combe Carey hall because that was the only haunting in the books that I found genuinely suspenseful/frightening. Bring on the blood

We didn't even get the screaming? On the screaming staircase? Come on that whole scene was made for a scary tv adaptation. They should've given it more breathing room.

I'm not sure if book!Lockwood guessing that Fairfax wants to kill them but still taking the job without telling his team or show!Lockwood totally buying it is a worse leadership fuckup. At least by later books they're assuming out of the gate basically every adult who interacts with them wants them dead.

The goggles are nicely bulky to contain the pieces of dead children that they're presumably made of.

uhhhhhhh well that sure was a lot more dramatic. is that what ghost touch usually looks like

Orpheus gear spotted

Lucy spends the series signing various NDAs and then spills everything in her memoirs which is kind of why I think she waited until she died and then went I am hanging around just long enough to hang everyone's shit out to dry.

Eyeing Penelope's necklace given they switched what kind of jewelry Annie's was. Doesn't look old enough to be Ezekiel though. Also, her mother? Did they cut one generation out of the Fittes dynasty? Marissa stealing her own daughter's body is a bit kinder than stealing her granddaughter's body and then using that body to murder her daughter while the poor woman thinks her daughter is killing her.

The skull does have its lower jaw. Envisioning some poor Fittes employee dredging what's left of a dead kid out of the sewer, washing 100 years of gunk off it, and painstakingly wiring the pieces together only to present this rare find to their boss and it calls her a bitch until she throws it in the trash. There goes their promotion.

Hey what the fuck. Strongly worded post to follow

[cewyll]

hii! i found your blog by accident and i'm mesmerized. i used to play rp on twitter and i really wanted to start doing the same here but idk where to start. could you please give me some tips?

oh hey, thank you so much for reaching out! :D i'll admit i'm not as active on this blog as on others, but it makes me happy to have reached you nonetheless. <3

i'd be delighted to give you some tips to start out! it's definitely a process that feels a bit alien at first, but over time you get a feel for it. :>

i am soooo sorry in advance, this is going to be super long — you picked a wordy bitch to ask 😂 but i'll try to format this in a way that's easier to read!

take your time to go through stuff & no need to read or absorb it all right away. feel free to keep this post bookmarked to look back on whenever you need it as well.

💖 welcome to raine's stupidly-long guide to starting tumblr rp! 💖 qualification: i've had this blog for 11 years. fml disclaimer: still all just from my perspective, i'm just one gal with opinions hehe

start out by making a new blog for your character. (i wouldn't recommend starting out with a sideblog personally, since you can't send asks from them). choose a url that feels relevant. i'm always a fan of the ol "smush two words together that sound nice" technique — ie, my other blogs are huntershowl and icarusplunged — which never seems to fully go out of style. really you can do whatever feels right to you :)

the most important part of setting up an rp blog is creating a rules page and, if you're writing an OC, an about page. the rules set up your boundaries, your wants and don't wants, anything you want someone to know before they follow you. the about page should give new partners everything they need to know about your character — personality, appearance, setting/lore, any backstory you want to display publicly.

feel free to look around at different rpers' rules pages and use them as inspiration! as long as nothing is copypasted and everything is your own original content, which brings me to etiquette.

etiquette!

'tis largely an Unspoken Thing in the rpc (rp community), and breaching it can def make people feel uncomfortable (even though that's something that Should be in rules pages, most of us forget haha). here are the things i can think of off the top of my head:

the way to reach out to new people is simply to follow them. that's all you gotta do! if they don't follow back, don't push, just unfollow them after a few weeks and move on. it's almost never personal!

in that vein, if someone's blog is private/selective/mutuals-only, wait to interact until they follow back.

once they do, it's up to you how you want to move forward — usually i'll wait until they post some sort of interaction call for you to like. a starter call, a plotting call, orrrr if they reblog an ask meme (which is like a list of sentence prompts! you can choose one from the list and send it as an ask, which they can use as an rp starter.) you can also just IM them though :)

don't reblog non-rp content (ask memes, quotes/imagery, etc) directly from another rp blog, it clogs up their notifications! just reblog from the original post instead.

don't interact with other people's threads (liking or reblogging, but feel free to read them and talk about them ooc!), and only respond to a starter if it's labeled as open — otherwise it was probably written for another rper specifically.

try not to prod people too hard if they haven't responded in a while. some folks are okay with being reminded about a forgotten thread a few weeks after replies stall out.

always tag nsft (not safe for tumblr, the other acronym gets flagged/hidden) and very upsetting content — gore, SA or abuse mentions, etc. i've seen some people starting to use "dead dove do not eat" as a catch-all for super dark content, but honestly that phrase gives me the heebiest of jeebies so i prefer to go with individual tags

general platformless rp etiquette rules apply: don't steal other people's content, don't assume or control the other character's actions/thoughts/etc.

be kind to each other, most of all. communicate when you have a problem with someone, rather than making a vague/callout post about them. that being said, i'm a proponent of the block button — blocking people is okay! it's not a big deal. this is a hobby space and no one is entitled to you. advocate for yourself!!

okay that was a long section, whew! lil break. take a sip of water. have a snack mayhaps.

now: RP STRUCTURE (the fun part)

we don't really do "script" style rp on tumblr — it'll usually, if not always, be in prose/paragraph form. formatting is a fun touch, but not necessary. as you can see, i'm using small text here with some little chunks of text in bold/italic or regular size text to add some visual interest. again, not necessary! experiment, figure out what you like!

lots of people will use icons of different sizes — 100x100 is the most common, but they really do vary. i would suggest going smaller rather than bigger (like don't use full post-width gifs or icons, try to keep them under half the size of the post? that's the most common vibe at least.)

icons can be used to "illustrate" your character's expression among a bunch of text, if you want Visual Spice. but they are soooo not necessary! totally up to you.

here are some examples of my icon styling!

there are lots of rp resources out here for cool coloring psd's and graphic templates for ya blog. create something fun and pretty that you like! <3

to reply to a thread, reblog it and add your post.

important: i highly recommend downloading and installing XKIT in your browser. it's an extension that lets you trim posts to the last two reblogs (common around here), customize your blog experience, and just makes it a lot easier to exist on tumblr haha.

ummmm i think that's it actually! you're finally free of my rambling. i really hope this helped!! please let me know if you have any questions, and gimme a follow when you start up a blog — i'd be happy to help you out however i can.

[rueitae]

Season 1, Episode 8 the lucky cat caper for @csweekly

Another of my favorite episodes almost entirely thanks to Chase Devineaux and his beloved coat. RIP

The screen is SATURATED in red the ENTIRE exam. Trying to show that Black Sheep was SAFE even if she didn’t realize it at the time.

I find it a neat detail that Carmen here isn’t looking to see if she has the dollar until she’s tried several pockets and has stopped to rest. The scene is really effective for me to show exactly how good she is.

More of Player and Carmen talking through nightmares for their health, please. How many times has this happened before and where are the fics. In general I crave to see more domestic in between caper scenes like this. The downtime. On that same vein, love the insight into the team that the whole scene provides. Player just literally hangs out on the phone with Carmen all day, just for fun. Presumably this is what they always do. Nice reminder that capers aside, they are still each other's best friend and they want to hang out.

CARMEN WANTS TO SPOIL HER FRIENDS. I love the entire auction sequence because probably unsurprisingly her love language to others is gifting/acts of service. Zack’s favorite movie? Yeah let’s get him the car because he’s my driver and I can’t wait to see his reaction. Player wants to spontaneously take up stamp collecting? Yeah I’ll get him the one of a kind stamp to START. Yeah I love Carmen loving her friends. This episode is so chalk full of between the lines team red bonding.

IM SORRY. THE SHOE kills me every time. Season 1 Chase is such a good fumbling foil. I love him so much. He’s on the right track usually but soooooo wrong. Julia again has such patience that she really shouldn’t have to put up with. She’s the most right track but everyone around her has blinders on. Otherwise this show wouldn’t be near as long lol.

First episode with Mime Bomb in the field! He’s such a funky dude. Nice to see that the Faculty have become proficient in mime for him. They took a while to get what he was saying in the opening episodes but now Maelstrom gets him right away. There’s a fic in there somewhere with several (probably creepy) one on one sessions between the two.

I really love that the Cleaners actually clean throughout the show lol. They don’t seem to mind. Probably my favorite of the VILE operatives. They’re just so. Done. Dangerous. Chill.

AND they pause for TEA and gossip. As in Coach Brunt and Shadowsan tensions. Love these guys.

No one backs up Brunt that VILE is family. Like yeah she can live in her own little world. It’s such a pity the show wasn’t able to explore this fully you can see the set up. They wanted to do something and it needed another season to bring it around.

FINE FINE SEND WHOMEVER. The Faculty are simultaneously the cruelest and absolute silliest people on the planet. I love them muchly. Their interactions with each other tickle me to bits.

Assuming The Troll has always been with VILE (since Shadowsan is aware of his existence), he totally made that bomb icon for the tracker app.

Mime Bomb is super clever honestly, to do the bait and switch like that. He uses Tigress and the cat and the store to make a clean getaway (at least from Carmen) WITH the stamp. The entire sequence of events in this episode is extremely entertaining. There’s so much cool stuff going on, either paralleling a previous episode or something new and fun.

Love the shop owner lol. Takes everything in panicked stride.

Chase and Julia are SO close. (Look at that lack of keycard) I'm amused that Carmen gets to witness part of that. And speaking of this interrogation scene, I do think of the interrogation scene from Detective Pikachu every single time I watch this episode. Then I double over laughing.

ON BASTILLE DAY

And the stamp goes into the lucky coat. I'm always in awe of so many moving parts to this episode that all tie neatly together at the end.

When I first watched this i really thought that Carmen would get there in time but Chase’s coat getting shredded is better because then we get one of the best deliveries of any line in the show. The *cracked sob* of SHE iS VICIOUS AND CRUEL is magical. Please appreciate this with me.

Even VILE makes sure their operatives use a seat belt.

LOOK AT HOW HAPPY ZACK iS. And how he wants to replicate the movie he is absolutely a top notch driver but he is a cinnamon roll. The duality of Carmen’s focus and Zack’s childlike delight makes me so happy. And then when he gets into serious mode LOOK at Carmen. She’s halfway convinced she’s not going to make it lol. Take notes, Carmen does not like not being in control of a situation that makes her uncomfortable. She’ll fall off buildings but when she’s being driven somewhere in a high stress situation she fears for her life.

For the record, I hope team red watches the whole Rogue Vendetta series for movie night.

Also the music in this sequence slaps.

“THIS IS EXACTLY WHY IM NOT INVITING YOU ALONG. I CANNOT BE SLOWED DOWN BY CAUTION WORDS” This man. These writers. Off the wall bonkers great.

“The woman beams herself from a fountain pen she can do anything.” Fhfhfgcff

What car number is this again the ongoing joke is superb.

The amount of upper body strength from both women to climb the bridge.

So cool that it’s all parallel to the exam and Carmen gets to sorta put her nightmares to rest. Just in time to have new nightmares next week! :D

I like how the Cleaners just stand by with their metaphorical popcorn and shine a spotlight. Running theory is that they just like the drama.

She got the phone too! I love this ending. Carmen got validation on her own, she doesn’t need the answer over the coat. Even though she gets it next episode haha. It’s freeing though for her to get some resolution here. She’s not dependent on Shadowsan’s reasoning in preparation for the next episode. It’s the message that she’s continually freeing herself from VILE every day.

Oh boy oh boy I can’t wait for next week. The angst monger in me is SALIVATING.

[nandysparadox]

roses and blue teddy bears

Pairing: romantic royality; brotherly moxiety

Word count: 1343

cw: just fluff. a lot of it

Summary:

Roman finds his boyfriend waiting for him after his debut in the lead role of a musical. Patton discovers Roman has a question to ask after the graduation ceremony.

or

Two times Patton and Roman gifted each other flowers.

---

fic for day 3 of @royalityweek!! ive been having so much fun writing these, and I kinda fell in love with this verse haha ❤️🩵😊

huge thanks to @ivaryn0 for beta-reading!

prompt: seasons/flowers

There was nothing better than this, Roman thought, as he looked over the crowd. The bright stage lights blurred his vision of the audience, but he still heard the cheers, the applause that set his blood roaring in his veins as he linked arms with his colleagues and took the final bow.

The walk to the dressing room was filled with laughter and the giddy satisfaction that came with the end of a performance. They were already all quite familiar with each other, Roman would say, but goodness if the debut of their show didn’t make them closer.

Carefully, he began to unbutton his suit, feeling the fabric brush his skin as he slipped it off. It felt all too professional, and it’s then that it hit him. He did it. Most times he could barely believe this was real. Roman supposed he’d have Patton to thank for that, convincing him to go to the audition in the first place. Roman chuckled under his breath, he’d lost a lot of faith over years of unlucky streaks.

And now he had one of the lead roles in an up-and-coming musical with a lot of potential. He would be the actor to originate the role on stage.

Like he said, unreal.

Despite all the excitement, changing out of costume was still a tedious process. The adrenaline wore off, after all, and as he rubbed his skin with the makeup wipe, trying to take off the stubborn mascara, he definitely felt it. By the time he was done, he wanted nothing more than to jump into bed.

A few people greeted and congratulated him on the way to the stage door. He was his usual, charming self, of course, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t rush the interactions a little. When he finally slipped away, he exited the theater with a sigh. Then stopped right in his tracks as he saw who was waiting just by the door.

He’d recognized those flower-embroidered overalls anywhere, along with that peek of black hair.

Patton’s face was almost fully hidden, covered by a bouquet so huge you could spot it from a building. A combo of red and white roses that looked right out of Queen of Heart's garden. It was lovely — and the gesture made Roman’s heart do all sorts of flips in his chest. Patton supported him in every performance, usually spotted somewhere in the first rows, but the fact that he chose to go above and beyond on this one, knowing how much it meant to him?

It made Roman want to kiss him until they ran out of air.

As if he noticed him in the same instant, Patton stuck his head out of the bouquet. He was beaming, bright and beautiful. “Honey! Congrats-”

He just couldn’t help it, Roman practically threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Woah, careful with the flowers,” Patton giggled, moving the arrangement so they didn’t crush it. “Hello sweetie,” he whispered with a smile, coy and teasing. It was like a thread snapped.

Roman surged forward and pulled Patton into a kiss, practically melting when the other reciprocated. It was always like that with Patton, a kiss both warm and sweet, like hot chocolate with cinnamon. The kind that made Roman long to do it over and over again.

“I love you so much,” He breathed out as they pulled apart, and Lord knows the moon-eyed look he must’ve been giving Patton. He couldn’t find it in himself to care too much.

Patton chuckled, all mischievous as he fiddled with the collar of Roman’s button-up. “Well, thank you, honey.”

Huffing, Roman batted at his shoulder, causing Patton to laugh outright. Instantly, he softened.

It was the kind of laughter that sounded just as beautiful and melodic as ringing bells. The kind that made him want to rescind his previous statement on theater because he was certain that there wasn’t a thing in the world that was better than it.

“I love you too,” Patton said. “So much.”

---

Excitement filled the auditorium as everyone geared up to leave the stage. Patton was more than ecstatic, of course, but after listening to speech after speech, he was more than ready to get out of those robes and head to the restaurant and celebrate with his family.

He ran a thumb across the certificate tube as he trailed down the stairs, feeling the leather in his fingertips. That was it, huh? A combined 8 years in the same university and now he had a Veterinary Medicine degree. It was weird to think about. Part of him couldn’t believe he’d really done it.

Patton smiled, holding his diploma tighter. Despite the uncertainty, an overwhelming sense of pride bloomed in his chest. It was like he was floating on air. He’d really done it… he’d be a vet! His dream job since he was 8 and his parents took him and his brother to the zoo. This was real.

It took a few seconds for him to spot his family in the crowd, but when he did, he found them waving with huge smiles on their faces. He was sure he matched that as he ran over, having to step aside a few stray caps. His mother hugged him tight before he could even get a word in, and his father was in a state, sobbing and fussing over Patton as much as he could. They congratulated him, teary-eyed and looking so proud Patton ended up shedding a few tears himself.

Virgil approached him, all stiff and awkward, and he thought his brother would give him one of his usual shoulder pats, but then all of a sudden he was pulled into a hug. One that lasted for a whole 15 seconds, which was quite long — for Virgil. When he pulled away, Patton could’ve sworn he saw tears in the corners of his eyes. He chuckled, but didn’t mention it — Virgil would probably deny it to his grave.

“Is Roman here?” Patton finally asked, after letting his parents snap a few pictures for the photo album. "He’d said he’d come.”

His mother smirked, putting a hand on her hip. “Look around, sweetie.”

Patton tilted his head, but he did so, turning around. What he saw made his eyes widen.

“No way.”

Roman waved at him with a grin, pushing a blue-painted pushcart, of all things. Flowers, light blue and blooming, filled the cart to the brim, along with heart-shaped boxes, chocolate bars, and a teddy bear resting right on top of them. Patton laughed in delight, though it might’ve come off more as a squeal.

“You’re crazy,” he said, eyeing the cart as Roman got closer. “What, is this Valentine’s or something?”

“Only about you, darling.” Roman winked, taking his hand and kissing it in a move that never failed to make Patton blush. “And no, more important than that.

Roman let go of his hand and hugged him tightly.

“Congratulations, my heart, I’m so proud of you.”

Roman had always been one for big gestures, but somehow he still surprised him every time. Patton beamed, feeling so happy he rocked on his feet. When they finally pulled apart, Patton leaned in and pressed a big kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“How did you get this thing in here anyway?” he laughed.

Roman shrugged, smirking like the cat who got the cream. “I have my ways,” he said, falling into silence as he ran a hand through Patton’s hair. He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if nervous all of a sudden, and cleared his throat. “Actually, could you get that plushie for me?”

Patton blinked and reached for the teddy bear. It was incredibly adorable. Made out of blue checkered fabric and with big black eyes. It even had a necklace! A thin golden chain that led down to…

A key?

When Patton looked back at Roman, the other was smiling bright enough to outshine the sun.

“Move in with me?”

---

A/N:

he said yes, by the way ;)

first half takes place about 5 years after they met, while the second half takes place a few months later, after patton has finished veterinary school :>

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

(𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 /𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)

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summary: Kirigan and Katherine have a curious talk, but, due to interruptions, they schedule a another meeting. Agatha is excited for finally reuniting with someone that truly knows her.

word count: 3442

warnings: grisha/witch hunt, blood

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They entered the Little Palace through the Darkling's personal door chambers, not wanting to be seen nor bothered by anyone. Kirigan had only told a Heartrender, one of his personal guards, to not be disturbed. The man nodded and went away to spread the General's order, but Katherine felt his gaze burning her back.

She has a feeling that she'd already interacted with the Darkling while this Corporalki was near him, but couldn't remember that at all. However, little does she know that this is true. Ivan — along with Fedyor — was one of the Heartrenders that were shocked to present the first time that Kirigan wasn't annoyed or bothered by an otkazat'sya servant clumsiness. The two Corporalki privately discussed that event, both having no idea of what had happened that day.

When they finally got into the General's office, he circles the wooden desk until his chair, making Katherine feel obligated to sit down at the one in front of him. The Darkling's silence, analyzing every movement of hers to decide what he's going to say first.

After a tense minute, where both of them just look at each other without a word, he breaks the silence with a question: "Who are you?"

Your equal, the witch thinks.

Instead, she answers: "Someone that wants to fight for my people."

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "You don't seem Grisha."

"I am not."

"Then who are your people?"

"The ones that just want to survive."

That catches his full attention, making him fight the urge to lean over the table to get closer to her. The Grishas are the only ones he knows that fight for survival and for a place to live in peace. And since that woman said she isn't a Grisha, then what is her?

"We hide to live. Lie to survive. Although Ravka is a safe place for Grishas, it isn't for my kind."

"Nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense when it's true." Katherine tries to breathe without trembling. "Especially when you're threatening to end our security."

There it goes. The thought that he is the villain of every narrative in this world. The disgust for his deeds, no matter how much they helped the Grisha on their quest to conquer a place to call paradise.

Kirigan can already feel the hatred towards this woman starting to corrode his insides. She's one of the ignoramus people that blindly believes that the world before the Fold was better for the Grishas, that the hunts were like nowadays — less atrocious — and there were no fights for survival between Grishas.

If there's anything the General hates more than hunters and traitors is this kind of people.

"You're ready to cease the peace we lived through so many centuries, one of the only things that protect us from the bastards that wish to torture and murder us." Disdain starts to fill Katherine's veins as she remembers the stories of many supernaturals of what Ravka was like before the Unsea.

People accusing each other, riots in villages for someone to be condemned, supernaturals fighting with themselves to survive, friends betraying friends for fear of being thrown at the gallows or at the stake... The list of heinous cases just goes on and never seems to end.

"You want to dissolve the Fold with your lightscu— Sun Summoner." She quickly forces herself to say the right term. "And I want you to rethink—" end "that decision."

Kirigan's breath stops for a moment. That's not what he was expecting at all. Usually, people want the Unsea gone to navigate through the waters without fear of being killed. However, this woman wants it to stay how it is and change nothing.

Wait. It's not just her. Her people wish the same.

An entire species, then? And if they aren't Grishas nor otkazat'sya like she said, what are they?

The Darkling has a whirlwind of questions in his head. He needs answers, to know about the life of this mysterious woman and all her people who, apparently, have the same intentions as him. An entire population can become his ally.

You're ready to cease the peace we lived through so many centuries— She has said. One of the only things that protect us from the bastards that wish to torture and murder us.

Finally someone understands the danger of dissolving the Fold and disdains the silly narratives of those who never lived through such a dark period for Ravka! This is a miracle! For Saints sake, not even his mother comprehends that!

But there are only two ways to know this: having heard accounts of Ravka before the Fold, or having lived in that period.

"You're silent." The witch's voice takes him away from his reveries and makes him look at her, who's admiring his office while walking through it. When has she stood up? Was he so immersed in his thoughts to not notice this?

"What are you?" Katherine turns to him in awe, yet confused. That's a very broad question. "You said yourself that you're not Fjerdan nor Shu Han, and I doubt you're Ravkan. Though you speak marvelously and have a good backstory to not know some common habits, there's something... uncertain about you." He analyzes her from top to bottom, skepticism all over his face. "It seems that you're lying about your nationality, Ms. Anya."

She narrows her light green eyes at him in an attempt to conceal a surprise. Katherine had indeed thought he wouldn't discover that lie of hers. And if he's doubtful about that little untruth that rolls off her tongue so naturally, he's skeptical about more lies than she had considered.

The witch weighs on a balance the consequences of telling the truth in this case. If she insists to him she's indeed Ravkan, he'll doubt her more and jeopardize this already fragile alliance. On the other hand, if she tells him the truth, he'll want to know more about her and invest in tricks to make her deny her own lies.

After a minute, the shadow singer takes a deep breath, her decision made. "You're right. I am not Ravkan."  She faces him without nervousness. "I am British. English, specifically."

To anyone, Kirigan's face would've seemed normal, amused at its maximum. However, Katherine's captured a slight glint of shock in his features. He must be replaying her sentences in his mind while questioning what on Earth she's doing in Ravka.

"You seem surprised", the woman breaks the silence without looking away from his face. "Please tell me, General, what were your guesses on me. I'm quite curious now."

"I thought you were at least Russian." His statement made her lips quiver in a small smile.

"Ketterdam?"

For her amusement, he chuckled. "You're too refined for that city, Ms. Anya."

"Although I do prefer big and developed cities, I can survive Ketterdam." He looks at her in skepticism. "I'm telling the truth. Compared to some... situations I have been in, Ketterdam is heaven."

"I might state the same, then. But changing subjects now, I can't help but wonder what's your real name." She frowns to pretend innocence. "Anya doesn't suit you. It seems wrong on you, especially for a British lady."

"Kirigan seems wrong on you too." He couldn't reprimand his eyes widening. "Is Gaelic, isn't it? It means black."

"What are you implying, Ms. Anya?"

"Oh, me? Nothing. I'm stating facts." Katherine leans on her chair to be closer to him. "This is a name that suits your power, which means you've spent some time searching for it. After all, old Gaelic names are not that popular. To my amazement, you're the only Kirigan I've ever heard of."

He has to gather all of his patience to not slap this woman, and somehow, he thinks she's doing the same. "I don't like to repeat myself, Ms. Anya. Answer my question."

"You're older than everyone thinks. You're not 120 years, as you say."

The Darkling feels his blood run cold. Since he gained power in Ravka, no one has ever doubted his past. Every person followed the silly story he'd made to cover the truth. However, just in this conversation this woman has managed to put the pieces together and — almost — complete the puzzle of his life.

Kirigan knew that knowledge and cleverness are developed with time; it's two characteristics that if you don't practice enough, you'll never get them. It took him almost two centuries to gather all his wisdom and know the perfect moment to use it — never too early or too late. You have to be shrewd to detect a lie and search for exactly what you want in the person who said it.

This woman in front of him knows this, she has knowledge and cleverness together in her mind. She has the behavior of a manipulator: lies naturally roll out of her tongue. Moreover, her fake personality seemed real in the Little Palace, along with all the pretense of being an otkazat'sya. For a short period of time, she managed to deceive him and all trained guards.

There were few times that the General clashed with someone's wit. The times when someone was actually on the same level as he were even smaller. Furthermore, he could count on one hand how many had managed to gather real information about him, about his life.

In just a few minutes of conversation, this woman shifted its focus from her to him. She turned his own game in her favor. With her gift of the gab, she's discovered more about him than he wanted to share with anyone.

There's only one way that she has such an analytical behavior.

She had lived as long as him.

That would explain not only this situation, but also her smartness and why she's never backed off of him. That woman hasn't shown apprehension nor nervousness at any moment by his side. She was bold enough to accuse him of stealing "her" books at his face without dreading its consequences withal.

She doesn't fear him. And he doesn't know if that's an act of silliness or courage.

"They are naive enough for you to puppet them, but I'm not." Katherine continues without breaking eye contact. "Unfortunately for you, General, I'm no fool. I cannot be manipulated."

"How old are you?" That's the only thing he managed to say in a heat wave of shock. There's been ages when he wasn't so astonished.

"Centuries", she smirks. "Just like you. Though I think you're older than me."

"And why do you have such thoughts?"

The witch shrugs. "Intuition."

He opened his mouth to reply to her, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Yes?"

Ivan entered with an annoyed look on his face. "The tsar requests your presence in the meeting, moi soverenyi."

That child cannot do anything by himself! He mentally scolds the monarch.

He controls the urge to roll his eyes. It's unbelievable how he'll have to replace such an interesting conversation with a boring one. The tsar may want his presence just to compliment his opinions — which will certainly not happen.

Kirigan slowly faces the woman in front of him. "Unfortunately, I must go now, though I'm sure we can rearrange another encounter."

Katherine nods in understanding. "Meet me before dusk in the fountain."

"I'll be there." He assures her and stands up to go to that hideous meeting. "Ivan will secretly escort you out of the Palace."

She doesn't oppose him, yet obediently seated on the chair, waiting for him to leave and be accompanied by the Heartrender. However, when The Darkling is almost crossing the doorway, she mutters:

"Ekaterina." He stops on his tracks, not able to conceal more surprises. The woman gracefully stands up while looking at him. "That's the Russian version of my name."

He gives her a quick nod before heading to the royal office. And even with the entire court almost making his ears bleed with all the unimaginable nonsense in this world, his mind only thought of her. Of her confident words, of her elegant behavior, of her light green eyes gazing at his dark brown ones. But most of all, of her last phrase.

Ekaterina is the Russian version of a very common British name, one that's impossible to not have heard of it.

Katherine.

Her name is Katherine.

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"So—", she locks the bedroom door and looks at her cousin "tell me everything."

"Agatha—"

"Why did I want to go to Russia? Where are the others?"

"Agatha, that's not how—"

"Why the hell are they hiding?" There's a momentary pause, and she gazes at the redhead with a frown. "Are some of our enemies here too?"

"That's not how it works, Agatha!" Hope regrets yelling as soon as she sees her cousin shrink a bit. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have screamed."

"No." The dark skinned woman sits on the bed, looking down at her lap. "I was being annoying."

"You're curious. It's different." She shrugs, and Hope sighs, sitting by her side. "We can't help you."

"But you said—"

"The spells that recover something that shouldn't come back have a price. Like necromancy: a soul for a soul."

"A memory for a memory." Agatha's stomach twists at the realization.

"It's not always that; there are some that give your memory in flashes."

"I don't want that."

She chuckles. "I know, and that's why we're trying to find another one. We want a spell that doesn't affect you. But for that, you have to remember things naturally as much as possible."

"So they won't go away when you cast the spell?" The tribid nods. "At least tell me how they are, then. Please."

Since her cousin now remembers the family and only wants to know if they're fine, Hope tells her how things are going. She says how Nick is trying to stay strong as much as possible and the times Levi has to hold him to not invade the Little Palace and jump on Agatha. Informs how Michelle is spying on some people in Ravka in search of a good wizard, how Levi is contacting every ally he knows to get a safe memory spell, and how Katherine is staying up all night trying to find that as well, but in grimoires.

The redhead also explains to her that they didn't tell any of their uncles and aunts to not worry them. If they become aware of the news, chaos will explode. They'll all go to Ravka and not act discreetly. Heads would roll, blood would be sucked out, memories would be erased, hearts would be ripped out, and some limbs would be severed... All of that in front of everyone to impose the Mikaelson power. After all, the family always leaves a track of chaos wherever they go.

Due to that, the cousins have decided to just call them if nothing works on Agatha.

"I can't tell you stories—", Hope smirks at an upset Agatha "though I can confirm them."

The hybrid brown eyes widen. "Really?"

"And I can help you to remember too. We can go to places that can unlock your memories. How does that sound?"

Her lips quiver in a genuine smile, happiness finally making Agatha's — preciously tense — body relax. Finally she's going to have some help from a person that really knows her, that lived with her since they were children and learnt together how to control their powers. Although she won't tell any story, just the company of Hope is ensuring for the hybrid, meaning that she's not alone in a different country anymore.

The family will pass through this with her, and will fight with all their strengths to get her memories back. Because they're always and forever.

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It's almost dusk when Katherine arrives at the fountain. She came early to analyze the forest to guarantee a good conversation with The Darkling, without any interruptions. This is a less comfortable place than the Palace, where the eerie silence makes you listen to anyone's approach. Also, the witch's escape plan can go better if the General tries to attack her; she has more strategic corners to hide and more space to fight and defend herself.

The woman sits on the fountain for a few minutes, attentively observing the landscape. If there's one thing she learnt in life it's to never get your guard down, no matter how amazing the situation is or how good people are. If you let your strong defense rest for a minute, enemies can take advantage of that and attack you.

All your achievements will turn into ashes of the past. Moreover, there will be more chances of you getting blackmailed, tortured or murdered.

A sudden rustle of the leaves makes Katherine stand up in alert. She's not alone anymore.

It's not him. One of her shadows whispers.

That's all she needed to know. Whoever this person is, they aren't The Darkling, which means she must get rid of them before he arrives.

"Whoever you are, I suggest you leave." She slowly distances herself from the fountain, analyzing the trees where the person might be hidden behind.

No response. But the witch knows they're still here. She can feel their shadow; quiet, alert and ready to attack.

"You shall not come back home if you threaten me. Leave before you regret it."

The woman quickly recoils as soon as she sees the silver glow. But even her quickness didn't stop her from being hurt. The metal of the blade scraped against her left arm, ripping her skin enough to cut through the fabric of her clothing and smear it with blood.

Katherine lets out a shriek of pain, but quickly looks at the spot where the dagger came from. Fury begins to take over her, her fingers crunch, itching to grab the weapon on the floor to kill its owner.

"Drüsje!" The attacker yells from behind the tree. She learnt enough Fjerdan to know the meaning of this word.

Witch.

Her attacker is a drüskelle, a man that hunts Grishas because they "insult Djel". Therefore: someone that doesn't deserve mercy.

That'd explain why he aimed her arm: to disable her from using her hand. Grishas can only practice Small Science when their hands are free, but witches and wizards can cast spells without them. Their minds are the only thing they need to hurt a person.

She picks up the dagger and marches towards the hunter, using the blade to deflect the others thrown. The witch wants this to last, that every minute that every weapon that doesn't hit her makes the man feel that his death is coming. She wants him to experience the same fear and agony that all drüskelle victims feel. So Katherine won't use magic against him yet. She will only do so when looking into his eyes. The creature he hates so much must be the last thing every witch hunter should see before they die.

Their last breath needs to be before their greatest enemy to know that they lost the fight.

The man finally comes out of hiding. His jaw is clenched with hatred, one the woman reciprocates towards him. It is visible that his blades have run out, which has left him to try his luck with her.

"Don't worry." The Shadow Singer says. "You will pay for everything you've done."

"Drüsje demjin!"

That was enough for the hunter to shoot her. Well, try to shoot her, as she quickly managed to dodge and run towards the man to stab him. She had no more patience, she couldn't bear anymore to breathe the same air as someone so repugnant. The witch wanted him bleeding on the floor while she casted the most painfull spells in him till death.

A quick wind blows her hair forward, the dark brown strands blocking her vision enough that she can't see clearly. She removes them from her face in time to witness a beam of darkness hitting the man.

There's been decades since Katherine was impressed by a fighting technique and finds it truly good. But this one not only surprised her, it startled her as well. Her breath caught in her lungs, her light green eyes widened and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It's the same feeling that ran through her when she first saw her father rip out a living person's heart.

Fast, silent and lethal. A blow that guarantees certain death.

But, as incredible as it may seem, this one is more violent than ripping out a heart or beheading someone. Because the drüskelle is now split in half.

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A/N: Hey, guys! How are you? I just want to thank you that are reading and enjoying. I can't believe there are people that like my writing! I also wanna say that the Fjerdan words in this chapter were taken from Grishaverse Wiki, so forgive me for any mistakes.

A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!