#it has to be otherwise i might have to skip sorry!

[darabeatha]

  /  What if this was strictly (from my end) a very simple dialogue starter call- (pls do specify if not im skipping 😳👉👈 )

muse list for ref! : Constantine XI (rider) ; Ashwatthama (archer) ; Vlad III (slighty canon div) ; Jason (saber) ; Camazotz (temp. assassin) ; Odysseus (rider) ; Daybit (crypter) ; Tezcatlipoca (grand assassin) ; Charlemagne (saber) Moctezuma II (Avenger) ; Caeneus (lancer) ; Oberon ( - ) ; Medb (rider) ; morgan le fay (berserker) ; kukulkán ( - ) ; tlaloc (pretender)

[sonknuxadow]

something so beautiful about how shadow with huge demon wings is probably something that would have been widely made fun of a few years ago but the general consensus on it now is that its the coolest thing to ever happen . peace and love on the black comet

[trashfangirlsworld]

Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.

they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.

we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.

the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.

quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.

quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.

At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.

[sanb3rry]

just finished blue lock and i can’t get that one episode of rin speaking in english out of my head…

may i request fluff of whipped!rin who so obviously pines for foreign!reader who he thinks doesn’t speak japanese (spoiler: they do!!) thank u ^.^

sorry it took me so long!! hope you like it <33

disclaimer !! : all times characters speak japanese will be written in bold italics.

hey, i think you're cute ! 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

it started off with small and frequent glances at the new manager. rin was just curious that was all it was, at least what it was supposed to be. for some reason, you're just so intriguing to him but he didn't exactly know why.

he sat next to you during one of the breaks and nudged you with his leg to get your attention before opening a small box of strawberry shortcake.

he knew for a fact you'd like it as he was listening to overheard you telling zantetsu out of all people that you did.

you glanced up from your volume of kimi ni todoke, "is that for me?" you asked, kinda confused.

the imaginary angel on your shoulder skipping and squealing over the thought of it and how this was ripped out of a shoujo manga.

rin nods, he was unable to maintain eye contact with you, you were so cute! this cannot be happening to him. the itoshi rin has a crush!? how preposterous!

"thank you, rin. that's really sweet of you." you said giddily as you put your book aside and took the cake.

he was happy as is, i mean his crush really sweet and pretty friend took the cake he bought just for her.

but, you had to go one step further and give him the first spoon. no no, not just give, feed him the first spoon. were foreigners always this bold? rin thinks his heart won't be able to handle this and thanks you before leaving.

you would've thought you made him uncomfortable but the flustered look on his face said otherwise.

"see you around, rin!" you waved. rin didn't hear you, he was too busy thinking about the interaction and trying to walk straight.

a few days passed before you were able to have a proper conversation with him.

"good day of training, rin?" you asked as you handed him his water bottle. "yes-" his words failed him as his eyes widened. did you just speak japanese or was he becoming crazy?

ten seconds passed by,

then twenty,

.

.

.

it's probably been a minute now.

rin just stood there staring at you, you were getting nervous. "are..are you alright? was i too informal?" you asked frantically, getting ready to apologise.

"no, sorry, you're fine. i . . . didn't know you spoke japanese." he said sheepishly, looking away from you.

"oh! that's okay. i was so sure you knew though." you wondered out loud.

rin thought back to all the times he should've caught on. your japanese version of manga, the fact that managers have to know at least a little japanese or get it taught to them through daily language classes, when you said bye to him a few days earlier. he mentally slapped himself.

"i should've known." he mumbled to himself, he's disappointed that he got so distracted with his feelings that he forgot basic context clues.

"don't beat yourself up for it, rin. anyways, i think julian is calling for you guys." you said as you glanced at julian.

you laughed nervously, "i better get back to work." a nervous shudder following your words as you think back of the time anri got angry at the managers for slacking off.

you waved to rin before leaving, he might not show it but if this were a tv show he'd have flowers and sparkles around him to show how happy he was.

© sanb3rry2024

[bruisedboys]

❛you got me flowers?❜ + ❛aw, did you miss me?❜ with tasm!peter maybe?

thank you for the request blair!!!!! xx

tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

Peter’s never really been very nimble. Even after becoming SpiderMan, he’s still a little bit of a clutz. He’s lanky and much taller than he thinks he is, so he’s always under-compensating for his size and walking into things.

He makes it through your bedroom window without incident, but then he trips over a book on the floor and can’t catch himself because his hands are full. He goes thudding into the carpet. There’s a pause, and then he hears the shower shut off.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes from the bathroom, much too frightened for Peter’s liking. Whoops.

“It’s me!” He calls out, scrambling to his feet and ditching his effort to surprise you. “It’s Peter, honey, I’m sorry.”

Another pause. Then, “Oh, okay. Just give me a minute!”

Peter’s happy to wait, though he’d go barging into the bathroom if it was up to him. He sits on the end of your bed and brings the bouquet of flowers he’s holding to his lap. It’s a little wilted from his fall, a few petals on the outermost layer crushed. He doesn’t have time to fix them before he hears the bathroom door open and your footsteps down the hall.

“Are you trying to rob me?” You’re saying, amusement clear in your soft voice. “You aren’t very stealthy, Peter.”

You appear in the doorway with a huge smile, a towel wrapped around your otherwise bare body and your skin all dewy and fresh. Peter feels instantly like you’ve put him under a spell.

“I wasn’t trying to rob you,” he argues. His head is swimming. Worse when you cross the room to stand in front of his knees with a sugar sweet smile. He looks up at you, starstruck. “I was trying to surprise you. There’s a difference.”

You raise your eyebrows. Peter’s eyes catch on your bare collarbones. They skip over the dip of your throat, your sternum, the sparkling diamonds of water that cling to your skin.

“Is there?” You ask, amused.

“Uh. Yeah,” Peter says dizzily. He’s completely forgotten what he was just talking about two seconds ago. You smell exquisite. Your skin is smooth and shiny with moisturiser. He might die and you’ll be the culprit. He blinks once, twice, thrice, but his head doesn’t show any signs of clearing.

You giggle at his inadequacy, a sweet, airy sound that has Peter’s heart doing somersaults.

“Aw, Pete,” you say, faking sympathy. You take his face in a soft hand, fingers pushing to the space beneath his ear. “Did you miss me?”

Peter blinks hard. Your fingers set his skin on fire. “What makes you think that?” He asks, aiming for accusatory but landing on clumsy and starstruck.

You burst into laughter. Peter knows very well that you’re laughing at him. He finds he doesn’t care, not when you lean over him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re cute,” you tell him fondly.

Peter blushes all the way up to his ears. Thankfully, you’ve become distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands and you don’t notice his very intense blush. He wouldn’t mind if you did, actually. You might call him cute again.

“Oh!” You gasp softly, and lift your eyes to Peter’s. “You got me flowers?”

Peter nods. “Yeah,” he says. Finally, he’s managed to say something without embarrassing himself. “Do you like ‘em?”

You nod vehemently. “They’re lovely, Peter. Let me get dressed, okay? And then we can put them in some water together.”

You touch his cheek and then move away, leaving him in a dizzying cloud of sweetness. He can still smell your moisturiser, still feel the heat of your hand where you’d touched his face.

“Cool,” Peter says, his voice two notches too high. Not his smoothest moment.

[chaosandmarigolds]

you can skip this all u want but

I wanna know abt readers ex ngl

why does Ollie have attachment issues?

you seem like you could do soft angst, 👻

(I audibly giggled like a maniac when I opened this, because angst has my heart. it has my HEART- only when it ends in fluff tho, otherwise someone might as well just shove me in a ditch it feels the same- ahem, sorry, got sidetracked)

Let’s do a lil flashback and backstory to this whole…debacle shall we?

May 20th

“Annnn then we got get- got get, noo-no! Ister Riley no,” Ollie grumbles as he reaches over the block castle he had spent the last twenty minutes building to grab the toy Simon was holding- a tyrannosaurus, or as Ollie called him- The Superman. The little boy fixes the doll cape attached to the toy and then holds it back out, “Otay, is fix.”

Simon nods, “Good good, he needs to have his-his-“

“The cape gives him powers.”

“Oh!” Simon agrees and looks at the worn out toy, the cape like it would be found on an actual Superman toy but put on a dinosaur. He only looks back to Ollie as the boy goes on about grabbing the rest of the toys he thought they should have.

“Yeah, that what my daddy tell me. That-that my superhero cape make me have superpowers.” A short silence and he sets the toy fire truck down along with a tow truck, “It no give me power, but it does for Bo though.”

(Bo, the name of the T-Rex.)

Simon looks at the boy, watching his demeanor change and he holds how the toy, “‘ell your dad was right, Bo does have some super cool powers.”

To that Ollie takes the toy and then shrugs, “I guess. But my dad- he-he lies and you say lying is not good.”

“Ladd I’m sure your dad didn’t lie,” Simon returned, it was just a toy, and he couldn’t see the harm in letting a three year old believe in superpowers for his plastic T-Rex.

Ollie shakes his head, “But he do! He said he come back for-for my birthday and no come, he didn’t-he lie.”

“Oi, Olls, ‘m sure your dad wanted to come, he just couldn’t-

“My mom doesn’t like him anymore, I heard her talk to my Auntie Beth and she said my dad is lair and mean- so that mean he not good.”

Simon, upon a lot of other things, realized that little kids really did share anything that came to their mind. and that he should definitely do some more research.

July 2nd

“It is-“ you laugh out a sigh as you stumble into the entrance of Simon’s house, having left your umbrella outside, “Raining cats and dogs out there!”

Almost as it had fallen into some odd and domestic pattern, he helped you take off the coat and hang it off without much speaking and you then look to him as you take off your boots, “Thank you for watching him later, I didn’t know I would be working a double and it-“

“No problem, darling. Lil’ guy was out by seven.” He cut you off and hung up the coat beside Ollie’s on the rack, which hung beside his own, “You go’ dinner al’eady?”

You hum and stand back up, “Are you offering?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Dinner was a delicacy of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and oven cooked fries, matched with a hearty portion of sprite. And about an hour of what you would consider you yapping about your crappy day, and what he would consider it favorite part of the day- you finally faltered, leaning on the dinner table with a dull and lifeless laugh.

“I feel like…I owe you, god, I owe you my life or something.”

He furrows his eyebrows to that, “No’ why? ‘M no doing anything special.”

You give him a look, “Free babysitting for one. Not to mention the rides, you-you pay for him to go to soccer, and you go to the games and you buy him clothes and you love him and you care for him and-“ you cut yourself off and look up to stop the tears- which were threatening to flow, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. I’m…it’s just- no, it’s just been a day.”

Now, Simon was many things, a merciless killer and a solider was one of them but he always knew how to read body language. What really gave it away was how you messed with your ring finger, as if you were twisting a nonexistent ring, “What’s today?”

A glance up to him and you give a dull laugh, almost mocking yourself with your words, “I got married five years ago today. Wore the pretty dress and said ‘I do’ to a man that was a piece of shit but damn….i loved him. I did. I loved him so- and I’m, god, Simon you gotta tell me to shut up sometimes.”

He looks at you, and he knew you couldn’t read him, but there was sadness etched in his expression, “I never want you to shut up, luv.”

( That’s all the backstory you get for right now! Aka, I am doing this on my phone and my thumbs hurt…and all I’ve thought of rn- comments, feedback, and your ideas make my day!! Annnnyway that’s it! <33)

[strawb3rrystar]

Hii! 💞

If yous till write for tmnt stuff, then I was wondering (if you do you smut) with head canons of the rise turtles (seperate) , of their favorite s#x positions (older ofc!! Like at least ranging from 18-23 years old)

Or if not all turtles then either Raphael or Mikey 🤷‍♀️ but that's up to, whoever hour turtle may be. Write it 👍 Or doesn't specifically have to be Rottmnt. I'm fine with any generation!

Positions by Ari.

Pairing: Bayverse! Leo, Raph, Donnie, Mikey x GN! Reader

Warnings: Sex positions, kinks n' stuff

Word count: 400

✰ Hi!! Sorry to (maybe) disappoint, but I don't write smut about the rise turtles. I do, however, write smut for the bayverse turtles. Much love!

Leonardo

Butterfly - is when the bottom lies at the edge of the bed and the person with the top standing in front of them

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Most hc's I see of Leo usually are pretty vanilla, but I don't want to do him dirty like that.

Leo definitely focuses on your pleasure over his.

He's more of the soft dom kind of turtle.

LOVES to praise you. You're his special little person after all!

I think Leo would like to see you in pretty lingerie

Just the idea that you would get dressed up all for him makes his heart skip a beat

I also think Leo would have a thing for bondage

Like he wants to see you all tied up for him. Ready to be fucked

Because trust me. You will be fucked.

The king of aftercare, though!

Will literally do anything for you ♡

Raphael

Mating press - similar to the missionary position with the person's legs tucked up.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

He has a breeding kink, and you can't convince me otherwise

Raph just loves to see your pretty hole stuffed full of his cum

He's 1000% a biter

Leaves hickeys all over your body

Especially on your neck and thighs

He loves to SQUEEZE

Squeeze your thighs, your hips, your wrists

Some sort of manhandling going on

Definitely into impact play, more specifically, spanking

Uses spanking as a punishment but also just randomly during the day

Like he'll just randomly slap your ass for no reason

So so at aftercare

His form of aftercare would be kissing all over your body until you both drift off

Donatello

Cowgirl -  The person with the penis lying down with their legs straight while the person on top straddles them

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Donnie gives me a dominant bottom type of vibe.

He's into roleplay

Like scientist x assistant or something like that

TOYS

He'll be making you toys that'll have you screaming

Mabye, have you tied down while he experiments on you

Into orgasm control

Like telling you when you can cum or counting you down

Donnie loves it when you ride him

He just sits back and admires you bouncing on his cock

I mean, you do such a good job taking him

How could he NOT admire you

Extremely good at aftercare

Sweet and tender little guy

Michaelangelo

Doggy style -  In which the person penetrating stands or kneels behind their partner

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Horny fucking 24/7

The KING of dirty talking

He's saying the nastiest shit to you

Another turtle that's into bondage

LIVES to see you tied up

Mans eats good

He'd be eating you out all day if he could

Pulls on your hair while you fuck

Not in a mean way

He's just showing you how much he loves fucking you

He won't cum inside

Instead, he'll cum on your back or your face

Kinda bad at aftercare lol

Like he has no idea what to do, so you might have to teach him

Star's notes -> Why did I add definitions?! 😭

(Thank you @judtcallmeanon for your request!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> N/A | Join the taglist

[thesith]

— You Deserve Better

crosshair x f!reader (friends with benefits) —> hunter x reader

this is a one shot

warnings: 18+, nsfw, PinV, sexual themes, mentions of FwB (friends with benefits), crosshair’s a fuck boy

notes: she/her pronouns. some characters might be slightly ooc (crosshair is an ass…). implied jedi!reader, pre!echo. mentions of reader being used for her body. has not been proofread/edited yet!

“Cross-”

He loved the way his name fell from your lips, the pleasure made evident from his aggressive thrusts and the moans that elicited from his throat. His pace quickened, leaving you more breathless than before.

Those moments spent with Crosshair weren’t rare, as you’d lived together on the Marauder for almost a year now, but they were wordless (save for each other’s names and the occasional “you feel so good”) and otherwise not very emotional. You knew he just saw you as a good and quick fuck, no matter if you wanted it to be more.

Every some-odd days when Crosshair needed to blow off steam, he’d come to you and work it off - everybody on the crew knew about the arrangement and what “refresher” meant in your context, whether it was by overhearing in one of your sessions (ahem, Hunter), trying to use the bathroom while occupied, or, if you’re Wrecker, still being completely clueless as to where the two of you go after particularly rough missions.

You settled in the co-pilot’s seat next to Hunter and placed your face in your hands, “What am I supposed to do? He likes me, he likes me not.”

Your muffled words were understood by Hunter, who subsequently placed a hand on your shoulder, “I think you should just tell him.”

“But does he feel the same?”

Hunter knew the answer, but was hesitant to reveal his findings to you. He heard whenever your heart skipped a beat near him or whether it was that time, yet Crosshair had no tells of being interested in you as more than a friend. “I’m not sure,” was all Hunter could get out before you interrupted him.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Hunter. I’ve already prepared myself for the worst - no need to beat around the bush.”

”Then, no. He doesn’t - at least not that I can tell. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t falter at his words like expected, just silently sobbed into your hands with his fingers rubbing shapes on your upper back. “Thank you for being honest, Hunter.”

”If it hurts you this much, why stay?” He questioned, eyeing your hunched form, “He makes you cry, General.”

You took a minute to collect yourself before responding, “I… I think he’ll hate me if I say anything. If I express how I feel, will he even care? I’m just a fuck-toy to him - wherever he wants, whenever he wants.”

“You deserve so much better.”

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You were back on Coruscant’s ecumenopolis when you heard something unusual coming from Crosshair’s room - it wasn’t an intruder or anything, just noises you’d only heard during explicit holomovies.

“Mmh-! Don’t stop!”

Oh.

The realization came sooner than it left - he was sleeping with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you. You walked away from his door and down the hall before comming Hunter that you’d be coming over. When you arrived he was already waiting by his doorframe.

“What happened, cyar’ika?” Concern filled his words while watching your frame come closer. Your hunched body, your sniffles, your tears. Only one thing had made you cry like this, “Crosshair again?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his toned torso, begging for his comforting embrace. He promptly returned the hug and pulled you into his room, setting you on his bed. Moonlight poured through the window, highlighting your tear-stained cheeks.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, yeah?” He motioned to your going-out clothes, understanding how uncomfortable they must be. “I should have a set of civvie clothes - they might be large though.”

He handed you a pair of sweatpants along with a t-shirt, “You can shower if you’d like. I don’t have anything like your shampoo, though.”

You expressed your thanks before heading into the washroom, ready to wash yourself off. You started with your hair before trailing down to your body, the scent of Hunter’s body wash taking over your senses.

After you finished your shower and changed, you exited the refresher to be met with Hunter’s unclothed torso. You quickly averted your eyes, “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” True, but most of the time it’s not in his own quarters, “You can look now, Cyar’ika.”

You sat back on his bed, now more comfortable than before, and looked out the window. Coruscant felt so… huge. You felt like a speck of sand on this planet - the bustling planet-wide city, the speeders racing toward their destination.

“So,” He started while taking in your appearance on his bed, “what happened?”

You set your hand on your thigh, gripping Hunter’s pants - just the thought of Crosshair irritated you. “After I was done at the temple, I went by his room.”

Hunter was confused - how could your endeavors with his brother be bad? “Okay, and?”

“And he was fucking another girl, Hunter.”

He moved to sit next to you and placed an arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his warmth. No words were said by the man, but none needed to be. You just needed comfort, and he was there to provide it.

Some time during the night you fell asleep in Hunter’s embrace, as you were startled awake by his communicator beeping.

“Hunter,” He spoke unhappily, obviously still tired. He wiped the sleep from his face, evidently used to these wake-up calls.

The voice that came from the other line was surprising, “Do you know where our General is?”

Crosshair’s voice held no concern, his silvery voice uncaring over the line. You felt Hunter’s gaze rise to meet you, to which you shook your head. You didn’t want Crosshair to know your location, and you certainly didn’t want to see him.

“No, why would I?” Hunter easily lied into his communicator. There was a click from the other side of the line - Cross’ line was on, he just wasn’t speaking.

“You’re her best friend,” the voice finally came, “She isn’t answering her comm.”

You gave Hunter a knowing look, “Maybe she forgot it on the Marauder? Or maybe she’s meditating?”

“Sure.”

After Hunter placed his communicator on his nightstand, you nestled back into his side to enjoy his warmth. He was a comfortable person to be around (and even more comfortable to cuddle with.) You always found solace in being around him - whether it’s in battle or close quarters, he was a rock for you to ground yourself with.

A knock on the door. There was a knock on the door. Luckily you couldn’t see the bed from the door, so when Hunter opened it to come face-to-face with his brothers they couldn’t see your silent form.

“Are you aware of the General’s whereabouts?” Tech asked, “She is not answering her personal communicator.”

“She might be in trouble!” Wrecker added, concern lacing his voice.

Hunter raked a hand through his bandana-less hair, “She’s fine. Just taking a personal day.”

“So she answers your comms but not mine?” The sniper replied, obviously irritated by your bias toward his brother.

It took all of Hunter’s energy not to scowl at his brother, “Yes.”

“Noted.”

The conversation ended shortly after with his brothers finally leaving, allowing you to get up to stretch. You hadn’t slept that well in awhile - you weren’t sure if it was due to not being on the ship or something else, but it was refreshing.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The next time you were alone with Crosshair, you didn’t spend it like you normally would.

“So, was she good?”

Probably not the best conversation starter on your end, but Crosshair definitely reacted to it - good.

His eyes narrowed onto you before smirking, “Which one?”

You lost the upper hand and your face faltered - he was trying to get a rise out of you and it worked, much to your dismay. You turned your back to the sniper to calm yourself down. “I don’t think we should do that anymore.”

“Do what, Princess?”

You could feel the arrogance radiating from him, “You know what, asshole.” You took a deep breath before turning to face him again, “I need to do what’s best for me.”

“And getting your guts rearranged isn’t what’s best for you?” The smirk on his face was prominent as he thought of his next words, “your moaning says otherwise, Princess.”

“I cared about you, Crosshair, and you’re treating me like a fucking joke. I thought we were exclusive - I thought you cared for me past just the sex.” You vented your frustrations to him, well-knowing that he wouldn’t care.

He clicked his tongue to the top of his mouth, “You can’t just make assumptions, General.”

“I’m done.” You turned to walk in a different direction before feeling Cross’ hand on your arm, “Let me go, Crosshair. I said that I’m done.”

”I’ll do better. You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

That statement was the absolute last straw with him - you were right, he didn’t care about you past the sex. You yanked your arm away from him and finally took your leave, which somehow ended with being in the cockpit with Hunter.

You didn’t even greet the man before getting into it, “I can’t fucking believe him, Hunter!” You puffed out an angry breath, “He’s such an ass, I don’t know what I see in him.”

Hunter turned to your pacing self, “You like seeing the best in people. Did he not take it well?”

You rolled your eyes, “He told me he’d ‘do better’ because my ‘pussy is the best he’s ever had.’” You could feel Hunter growing angrier at the way you were treated by his brother, “He only ever cared about the sex. I should leave his ass for dead next mission, don’t you think?”

“He’s an idiot, but he’s my brother, General,” he inspected your angry face, “I’m not happy with him right now either, but I wouldn’t leave him for dead.”

You knew how much Hunter cared for his family, so you tempered your frustration. You mumbled an apology and walked out of the cockpit, opting to sit in the unused gunner’s mount. You closed your eyes, opting to meditate as your usual source of venting didn’t exist anymore.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The next day, you found yourself in the gunner’s mount yet again - this time, not alone.

“Should I go back to him, Wrecker?” You asked the friendly giant, not wanting to bother Hunter with more of your issues. “I just feel so stupid.”

“Go back to who?” He asked, snacking on a rations bar. “You were with someone?”

Your face remained blank as you blinked at him - of course Wrecker didn’t know, he couldn’t read between the lines. “Never mind.”

“When I’m sad, blowing something up always helps!” He tried to console you, though to no avail.

You remained stoic, “Would you like me to blow up the Marauder while in hyperspace, Wrecker?”

“My Lula helps when I can’t blow something up. I’ll go get her.”

You could feel his presence leaving and another coming - Hunter. You opted to stay silent until he spoke, not sure of his reasoning for approaching you.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way - you were venting, I know you’d never leave Cross like that.” Hunter sat next to you, shoulder touching yours. “I shouldn’t have listened to your conversation with Wrecker, but you shouldn’t go back to him, General. It’s Crosshair. He’s not going to change, and you’re gonna be left more heartbroken than before.”

“What do you suggest I do then, Sergeant?”

He paused as if contemplating his words before speaking, “Focus on somebody who loves you and feels something for you - somebody who isn’t going to use you for your body.”

You turned to look him in the eyes, a new emotion overcoming them, “Do you know anybody like that, Hunter?”

“Hm, let me think about it.” His face moved closer to yours and placed a hand on the nape of your neck, stopping centimeters before meeting your lips, “If you don’t want this, tell me.”

Your heartbeat quickened as you took the initiative into your own hands, kissing him with the passion you neglected with his brother. You tangled a hand in his hair to deepen the kiss. Hunter groaned into your mouth as his other hand made its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You straddled the Sergeant and bucked your hips, feeling him under his codpiece. You grinded into him, an unsolicited moan coming from your mouth.

He unlatched his lips from yours, panting “Do you want to do this? If I continue I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You answered him with your lips against his, never thinking once about his silver haired brother.

Maybe Crosshair was just a stand-in for the man you truly wanted - Hunter.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

tags: @skellymom

fill out my taglist form through the word “agree” in my bio! <3

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist!

[moonbiscuitsims]

SIMDEW VALLEY SET 🍄👩🏿‍🌾🐷🐴🐄🧙🏿‍♂️🌻🌽

Stardew Valley Pixel Art Floors/Walls/Deco (TS4) Download Below

Aside from a couple most of these pics are just the demo pics showing what's included, more CC in game pics can be seen here

🍄Misc Large Decals

In order: Junimo huts + large Junimos, Holdiay Decor and "sky decor", furniture items, rarecrows, plants.

🍄Wall Decals Paintings and Banners:

🍄Wall Decals Misc small:

Adventure stuff and boots, small junimos, random furniture items slime monsters different expressions

🍄Wall decals Gems and Minerals:

I didn't do them all, just some that I liked.

🍄Wall decals farm animals

🍄Wall decals Fishing

Again just the fish I wanted to do, not all:

🍄Wall decals Harvestables, Crops, Products:

Here's a random in game pic (see more in links provided at top or bottom of post), all decals show through glass too!

🍄Stardew Valley Villagers (yes the bear is a villager I refuse to accept otherwise) portraits

The portraits are the only item with actual dimension, I recoloured a base game framed painting, so these are not flat like the rest of decals. (they look a bit orange but that's just my mood lighting)

🍄Walls and Flooring (indoor and outdoor flooring)

I did all the ones you see here:

For the floors I made a large and small version of all:

🍄You can see more CC in game pics in my wip post here

Are you sick and tired of those smooth graphics from Sims 4? Do you wish you could replace those pesky curves and detailed HQ textures with nothing but square pixel heaven and flat colours? To be finally rid of all those 3D bump/light effects and replace them with volume-less cardboard cut-out illusion and imagination? Do you want your build/game to look just like Stardew Valley? Or do you simply think that if the sims team are gonna give us low poly and low quality meshes and textures might as well do it properly? Fear not! The solution is here! I made a new Stardew Valley save (why I need yet another save that I'll never have time to complete I don't know) and tried my first build, the recreation of my current (and only) farm. It was ok but I got frustrated at how "Sims 4" everything looked, and checked for stardew valley cc conversions, art, decor but only find people making it using sims 4 stuff, which is probably the most logical thing but not for me! So I made this as there are plenty of game assets from Stardew Valley available online and however tedious and time-consuming resizing the tiniest of pixel art images is to fit Sims 4, it is fairly easy and doable, so I did it. I did skip some items in each category as there are way too many and just did the ones I like, sorry if there was one I didn't include. Also there are some floors in the game or icons that I couldn't find. Some Junimos were taken from the internet but most are individually resized game assets. INFO: all decals in wall deco, all are zero simoleons, and the portraits are 10. You can find my stuff typing "moonbiscuitsims" or "stardew". All have correct colour filter tags and removed "talk to object (insane)" and "can be struck by lightning" (these things annoy me or could cause more distractions for my sims, sorry if you like this though I'm sure there are plenty of objects to talk to/ lightning strikable objects). I don't know if this has an effect. All the portraits are just tagged as brown. All are resizable to your liking. Forgot to mention the floors i think are in wood flooring and outdoor flooring; and I think the walls in panelling. REQUIREMENTS: Nada, nothing. Just base game. (though I did accidentally make one item from a get to work decal by mistake, I remade it to fix it and I've play tested everything, but let me know if something doesn't show up.

PLEASE READ AND RESPECT MY TOU AND DO NOT ❌❌❌: - ❌ Reupload - ❌ Include in sim downloads - ❌ Put behind paywall of any kind no matter what. - ❌ Claim as yours. If you wanna use the texture files to make other different original content that is fine as long as it is different from mine and NO PAYWALLS and no reuploading my stuff. The images are from Stardew Valley, but I spent ages editing every single one to fit the sims, and this took me days to do. All my stuff is free. I don't care about conversions to ts2 or ts3 but NO PAYWALLS and please tag and credit me. If used for screenshots please tag me too, I'd love to see <3 🍄DOWNLOAD (including a pick and choose or a merged file with everything, don't get both) Enjoy! Happy Simming/Farming

Stardew Valley fav music playlist 🎵🎵🎵

[heliads]

Hi!! I’m so excited your request are open I love your work!! I would like to request Charles leclerc x reader where he finds out the girl he has a crush on is a street racer and decides to finally approach her and talk ending up in him asking her out on a date. I hope this makes sense, sorry if it doesn’t 🥲💗

'first sight' - charles leclerc

masterlist

Charles Leclerc has never found himself as thoroughly engrossed in the dynamics of street racing as he is right now. He has, of course, been vaguely aware of it before, as someone who was born in Monaco’s lap of luxury and then subsequently indoctrinated in the grand and glorious art of racing sports cars, but not like this. Never like this.

If he were in the mood to be particularly honest, Charles would admit that he’s not just interested in street racing all of a sudden because of the same need for speed that’s consumed his life and led him to Formula One. Nor is he here because he’s developed a taste past sports cars to souped up tin cans. No, he’s here because of one driver, a woman. A woman named Y/N L/N.

See, this was never Charles’ intent. He would have been able to skip this unfortunate little obsession in his life were it not for the fact that he’s best friends with Pierre, and Pierre is way too fond of his girlfriend Kika to ever say no to her. So, when Kika begged Pierre to come with her to watch a friend’s street race, Pierre decided that he simply couldn’t do it alone and forced Charles to tag along as well, because of course there’s nothing Charles likes more than third wheeling the two of them on yet another flirtatious date night.

Charles had assumed it would be another long night of alternating between wishing he was back home, worrying he should be on the simulator more often, and wondering if he should have dragged along a brother or two so he wouldn’t have to watch Pierre and Kika ogling each other for the thousandth time that night. However, all of that changed when Kika led them over to meet her friend Y/N, who was racing that evening.

Charles is no stranger to pretty people. Every race, some new slew of celebrities gets a tour of the Ferrari motorhome. Charles has seen plenty of actresses and singers pose by his car and wear his merch, but it’s never really meant anything to him. He can tell when they’re fans or if they’re just doing it for good PR. Most celebrities are just people in higher tax brackets with higher rates of avoiding their taxes. You meet one, you meet them all. No amount of perfect smiles or dazzling faces can change that.

Y/N, though, was different. She was gorgeous, and Charles immediately felt as if he might have been run over by his own car several times. One look from her and he was lost in it, tumbling over and over in his mind. She had this charming confidence that Charles could only wish to emulate, the sort of ease you get when you know you’re better than everyone and don’t need to remind people of it because you know you’ll prove it the second you get to work.

If it were not obvious by now, Charles is in love, alarmingly so. Even after Kika makes some quick introductions and Charles manages to shake Y/N’s hand and stammer out a few pleasantries about it being a nice night for a race, he’s still left wishing he could get himself together long enough to be a real human being. Y/N probably thinks he’s insane, but she’s still smiling when she leaves them, so at least he hasn’t done too terribly.

Pierre, by contrast, seems to think otherwise. Y/N is barely out of earshot when the other driver turns him, unable to hide his laughter. “Charles, man, what was that? You look like you forgot your own name.”

“I don’t need to remember mine,” Charles murmurs, watching Y/N go, “Just hers.”

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Be serious. You fall in love a hundred times a week.”

Charles sputters indignantly. “That is not true. And besides, this is different.”

Pierre can’t persuade him otherwise. The drivers on the scene that night start their engines, and Charles watches from the sidelines, captivated, as Y/N accelerates to an early win. Once the race is over, Y/N runs over to Kika, who embraces her friend with an excited hug.

“Well?” Y/N asks Charles once she’s released from Kika, “What does the Formula One driver have to say about that? Fast enough for you even without V6 engines?”

Charles does his best not to fall to pieces. “Um, yeah. It was very great.”

She flashes him a bright grin. “Perfect. See you at the next race, Leclerc.”

With that, she pushes back into the crowd, receiving congratulations and praise from her other friends. Pierre is grumbling something about not getting asked as well since Charles isn’t the only F1 driver around, but Charles just laughs, still giddy on the aftereffects of those shining eyes on his.

Pierre expects him to just bounce back from this little crush, and truth be told, Charles would appreciate it if he could, but no such luck. Even a few weeks after that first race, Charles is still hopeless over Y/N. He scans articles on street racing, memorizes the names of her competitors, and becomes an expert on her win history. She’s fast, super fast, and it looks like the easy victory Charles had seen was just a typical habit of Y/N L/N when it comes to racing.

Needless to say, he was captivated. Although Charles usually tries to keep a little pride when it comes to these sorts of things, he only made it two weeks before caving and asking Pierre if he and Kika were planning on attending any more street races. Charles wondered this for no reason, of course. Just, you know, his natural love of racecars.

Pierre sees right through it. “You want to see Y/N that badly, huh?” Pierre asks skeptically. “Jeez, man, I didn’t think you were such a simp.”

“You didn’t even know what that word meant until Kika taught it to you two days ago,” Charles says scornfully. “Now answer my question. Are you going or not?”

Eventually, and not without a fair amount of teasing, Pierre admits that they were planning to go to another race that Friday. Charles is able to convince his friend to let him tag along, but only under the condition that he would actually get up the courage to ask Y/N out instead of just staring like a lovesick puppy. Pierre’s words, not his.

This time, the race is actually legal. Y/N’s day job is a drag racer, although she tends to get bored on the weekends and shoot for a few undercover street races as well. So the fan Twitter pages say, at least. Charles definitely hasn’t been snooping around enough of those to know.

Now that he won’t get chastised by Ferrari PR for attending illegal races, Charles is free to post as much as he wishes about the race, the cars, and most importantly, the drivers. Barely half an hour has gone by before fans across the Internet are calling him out for ignoring literally every other car there to post about Y/N, but what does he care? Y/N’s probably too cool to look at those sorts of posts. Hopefully, or she’s going to think he’s insane. Again.

This time, though, when Y/N strolls by their area to say hi, she doesn’t just immediately focus on Kika. She says hi to her friend, of course, and thanks both Kika and Pierre for coming, but stops directly in front of Charles. All that separates them is the barrier of the stands. Well, that and the immutable fact that Charles is clearly crushing hard and she is clearly just having fun.

“Good to see you back, Charles,” she says.

Charles grins. He’d promised himself he’d play it cool this time, but he’s already failing at that aim. “You remembered my name?”

“I had plenty of your social media posts to remind me,” she says, one eyebrow quirked.

Pierre facepalms by his side. Charles ignores him. “I was excited,” he tells her as casually as he can. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know yet,” Y/N muses. “I suppose I’d have to get to know you better.”

“I have no problems with that,” Charles grins cheekily. “How about I take you out to dinner and you decide for yourself?”

In Charles’ peripheral vision, he can see Pierre’s look of desolation turn to slow shock, but come on now, there was no chance Charles wasn’t going to follow through and ask Y/N out. The only thing he needs now is for Y/N to say yes.

She doesn’t answer immediately, but judging by the way her cool smile brightens, it’s less because she dislikes him outright and more because she enjoys playing with him, which is perfectly fine by Charles. If he respects the game, he has to respect the players as well.

“I’ll have to wait and see how I feel after the race,” Y/N responds at last. “Maybe I’ll lose and I’ll be too devastated to go out with anyone.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “I doubt that will happen, but alright.”

Y/N gives him a surprised look. “You’re willing to bet that I’ll only go out with you if I win?”

“I’m willing to bet on the excellent odds that you win every time,” Charles answers with a wink. See, Pierre? He can be smooth when he needs to be.

Y/N laughs at that, evidently pleased. “I’ll have to make sure I don’t let you down. See you after the race, Charles.”

With that, Y/N joins the throng of other drivers heading towards their cars to begin the race. Once she’s gone, Charles turns to Pierre, far more proud than he should be. “I don’t want to ever hear you complaining about my flirting again. Did I not do what I had to do?”

“You did,” Pierre grumbles, “but she still didn’t say yes, you idiot.”

Charles scoffs. “She absolutely did. She didn’t say no.”

Pierre can’t technically argue with this, so it’s up to Kika to distract them both from technicalities by asking them about one of their upcoming races, a surefire method of changing the subject. It does little to divert Charles from his own nerves, though. Suddenly, he’s gripped with an impossible terror that something will happen with Y/N’s car, or maybe she might come in second place and not first, and she wouldn’t want to go out with him after all. He shouldn’t have left it up to chance like that. He should have just gone after what he wanted in the first place.

Charles is a nervous mess the whole race. When the checkered flag waves, though, he’s finally able to relax. Y/N wins, and that means Charles has just scored himself a date with the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. 

Y/N takes her time in coming around to his section of the stands, just to mess with him. At last, though, they’re face-to-face again. Y/N is breathless and thrilled with the victory. Charles thinks he could bask in her glow forever.

“So?” He asks casually, “How about that date, then?”

Y/N grins. “I think it’ll work out. You can pick me up at seven. Does Saturday work for you?”

“Saturday is great,” Charles says a little too quickly, then tries to recover. “Wear something pretty.”

“Don’t I always?” She jokes, gesturing to her race suit.

Charles laughs with her. It’s easy. He can imagine doing it many times again. “Of course.”

Her laugh settles into a quiet smile. Even in the tumultuous uproar of a race that’s just been won, Charles can focus on her instantly. He wants this, he decides. He wants her. And, with the way she’s looking at him now, mirroring the incline of his head towards hers, Charles knows that she wants the same thing. This is just the beginning. He cannot wait to see where they go from here.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[jessefandomunited]

You said the top floor right????

Spencer Reid x reader (no gender or skin color specified)

-you've been feeling really close to Spencer since joining the BAU and with his new found fear of elevators you suddenly get a burst of confidence.( no sex but a make out scene)

@raythecomputerart I hope this was what you're looking for 😉

You were about to wrap up the case you were on and while you really didn't want to waste any time sleeping, you would be useless without it.

There had been a screw up with the rooms at the hotel , and while everyone else was on floor two, you and spencer were on floor 15. You instantly noticed a bead of sweat form on his brow, everyone else had already left otherwise you knew someone would have swapped. He had had a bad experience in and elevator before and now would typically opt to walk up the stairs but with us being both exhausted, we risked it.

As you pressed the button you suddenly realized how close you were to him. You had always had a thing for him but ,being coworkers and all it felt inappropriate. However being in this confined space made you suddenly feel self conscious causing you to subtly fix a fly away hair and tug your shirt back into place. Glancing back at Spencer you noticed he had gone almost completely pail . You gingerly asked," hey are you okay?" At that moment the elevator lurched causing him to reflexively grab your hand.You could feel heat rising to your face and risked a glance at him to gauge how he was feeling. His panic drained into embarrassment and he rambled " I'm so sorry I didn't mean to do that just ...you know that one time ..it kind of has me paranoid " you smiled gently and rubbed the back of his hand causing him to realize that even though he had apologize, he didn't let go.

The elevator started to rise again and you said ," hey Spenc?" He looked over , seeming to be feeling better, " yeah? What's wrong?" You felt this rush of courage and blurred out ," can you just kiss me already." It wasn't demanding , it was a desperate plea causing you to feel more embarrassed than you already were. His eyes widened and you noticed his pupils dilated , making your heart skip a beat. "Really," he gasped suddenly breathing a bit more heavily. " please," you insisted. Without hesitation he cupped your face, gently running his thumb against your cheek, starring lovingly into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. It started gentle him being careful not to go too hard, but as you tangled your fingers in his hair, gently tugging it, a switch flipped. It became deeper , hotter, and more heavy. You bit his lip, and let his tongue explore your mouth. He trailed kissed down your neck nipping along the way causing you to moan a bit. He tugged your shirt down a bit and sucked on it, leaving a red mark, claiming you before returning to your lips.

The only thing that brought you back, was the soft ding of the elevator. The two of you almost jumped apart as the doors innocently slid open. The number at the top glowing with the number 15. As you stepped onto your floor you looked at eachother for a long moment before you innocently called," goodnight." He nodded and you both quickly went to your rooms not wanting to risk what might happen if you stayed a moment longer.

[lovl3igh]

alicent as a mother is always so intensive subject, cause where tg refuse to admit that alicent was a bad mother, tb don't give her justice in reasons why that happened (it's not general, both teams has exceptions ofc)

tg defend her saying it's not her fault, she was used, she didn't want those children, they forced her, but was it said otherwise? yes, she was bad mother because of her own trauma and assault she experienced but she was still a bad mother. having an "excuse" don't change that

and not every time that someone said she is not a good parent, they need to add why. no need for assuming that person who says it, doesn't know the reasons. they can say why alicent became bad parent or the way alicent shows bad parenting or that she is just that, bad mother, they can say all of it or just one thing. all of that coexists

before I'll start: there's most stuff from the show, but there's book spoilers, maybe that will be also show cannon in the future, I dunno, sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language

we have evidence of her being basically sold by her father, sa'd by viserys, forced to birth one child by another. she was motherless child forced to becoming a mother before she was ready. she was not a fan of her children, we see her unhappy with them, and when she speaks it's about dry facts like the labour and not her feelings. she does not care for them that way, which is fine bc she not wished for them and she's still a child herself, but that's a fact

we see her later with her kids and again we cannot say she became better while becoming older. she sees them as her duty (her worst enemy), her responsibility and also (admit it or not) way to put rhaenyra down. otto said to her way before jace was born that he wants aegon on the throne, he already could be accused of treason but alicent remained silent and later she acts the same way. she puts on aegon big pressure, responsibilities and also involves him in act of treason (because again she thinks it's her duty to the realm)

what's more she abuses him physically and mentally. we see her beating him more than once, screaming or neglacting him (all of that are forms of abuse). blames him for aemond's losing an eye while it was her responsibility to watch her kid or a servant and guards', not his (you can say also viserys', there was never a dispute if he's a good father, we know he isn't, it's about alicent only discussion then)

aegon in his 20s has to ask his mother if he's being loved, how sick is that? that he drowns in need of attention? (you can say he deserves all of this but the truth is alicent - and viserys ofc - failed to raise him well and now she fails to punish him, cause he should be sent to the wall, instead she beats him and let's him be a monster to another girl, now as a "king". all not to protect him but to protect his reputation, all she does there is bc of her sense of duty)

helaena hates being touched by her own mother, why wouldn't she? child bride alicent did the same to her daughter, knowing what a menace her son is. she does not understand haelena, she forces her to early marriage, childbirting, unhappy life. (and be fr, haelena might not like touching generally but 1. it's speaks even worse about alicent who touches her againts her will and married her to sexual predator, 2. she didn't mind being touched by jace who not really knowing his aunt was far more gentle)

absence of daeron would say more about their relation if not for long time skips, the truth is sending away little child is a form of neglacting however we do not know if they were in touch and how often. i know it's a common practise, i am glad that baela was at least sent to her loving grandmother in her later childhood, but I still do not like the whole ward thing and i won't comment on it in daeron's case, cause we did not see it here how was it done

I will speak about aemond x alicent relation though which is by far the most interesting. he is the only one we can say that he loves his mother and cares for her which doesn't automatically means she was a good mother for him. for the dynamic he observes alicent needs protection from men around her (rightfully so) and decides to lie to the king to protect her. not only he usually lives meeting her expectations (ekhem ekhem not anymore ig) but can initiate his actions to please her even if that means he'll go against his own wishes (searching for aegon to make him a king)

the fact is he was much miserable for not having dragons AND for being bullied. yet two things we have: first alicent as queen could easily arrange aemond going to dragonstone to claim dragon or take rhaenyra's deal to have syrax's egg. second - she blames velaryon boys as if she wasn't the one who destroyed good relations between kids and as if aegon weren't bellwether for bullying actions (YES, JACE AND LUKE ARE GUILTY TOO, but we discuss here alicent dynamics with her kids, so I point her fault right now) and she raised one child to bully others, his own siblings

then we have the children's fight and aemond loses his eyes. one of the best scene when alicent attacks rhaenyra, 10/10 love everything here. that's gonna sound harsh but alicent's behaviour here screams about duty too. it shouldn't at all, her child just lost his eye, her priority should be to comfort him. instead she wants rhaenyra to take responsibility for having bastards (that's not the case), aegon for not taking care of aemond (it's her responsibility), viserys to admitting her own sacrifices weren't for nothing. she put here herself and her needs above aemond, she used his wounds to attack rhaenyra and her children (no, I do not say she didn't care aemond got hurt, don't put words in my mouth)

"if the king won’t seek justice the queen will" she wants so called "justice", but stated by her only, where's justice in taking child's eye after accident? would she also break aemond nose for "justice"? if he'd killed luke or jace, would she call for killing aemond? it's not caring mother, it's the queen wanting revenge cause she doesn't like princess' privileges (and also privilege that bastards here have). she calms down when she realizes that she went too far, "neglected her duty", that's not aemond's doing (and also fcked up that her assaulted child feels that he needs to calm her down)

"she was ready to die for her children" desperate actions in the worst scenarios to not matter that much with previous behaviour, especially since her children were doubting if she would do that for them in the first place (that ig you can take as opinion, but if mother abuses child for years how much does it counts if she gives up her life for this child?)

regarding rhaenyra she doesn't understand a good mother patterns as well. she either doesn't care nyra will suffer or doesn't understand that mother who just gave a birth to a child, will not send it away even for a second. she doesn't care or understand mother will not allow for taking her child's eye for "duty". she doesn't understand that bastards are not any less worthy of love. her view of motherhood is sacrifising herself, not enjoying what she can

perhaps she did not know any better, her mother was a child bride (forced by old pedo otto) just like her, she did the same to helaena and unfortunately later that happened to jaehaera. she was abused in many ways but later also became an abuser. and all that because she thought life is about duty and sacrifice. she had every reason to be bad mother and she became one but that it should be seen as a fact while some of you see it as an opinion and criticism

if you read all of that - seven hells okay

[yearningaces]

(Too shy to say off nonny, sorry.) But I love your writing. Especially that it explores more than the sexual side of romances. I love to interact with the world in a way less driven in such a manner. It's a lovely change to see your writing in my sphere.

But also:

We have you meeting Nyx's family and fitting into his world, but what about trying to fit him into yours?

(never apologize, anon is on for a reason 👍)

I'm so so happy my blog can offer that for you! It's such a bummer each time I find some romantic buildup "plot sweet fluff they fuck." "Plot wholesome- they did this all just to fuck." "Romanc- they did it for sex."

And that's no problem! If people enjoy that then they can there's nothing wrong with enjoying sexual things, but as an asexual who is romantically attracted to folks(monsters mostly) it's disheartening to have almost every story end the same way so I have to skip huge chunks or just not read.which really minimizes how many stories I really have available

As for the idea you have!

Writing about families is far less reader inclusive so what I'm going to do is a brief overview that mostly is gonna focus on Nyx just being brought into the more human side of the world.

And with that in mind!

It takes time. And patience. Nyx is a bundle of nerves, and he loves you his wonderful human so much! But he's still terrified. Because you're sweet and good and know how to be gentle. Not every human does, and telling them apart is difficult at first.

Having to watch you and every other human tear through meat down to the bone at some restaurants (I'm craving ribs) takes him some time to not feel like he's about to fly out of his seat. So you compromised, he would never ask you not to eat something, but you do offer to cut whatever meat you're eating off the bone cause it seems to help his nerves.

The swarm and crowds of humans are so much larger than him, and so very loud for his delicate rabbit ears. Headphones and earbuds don't exactly work given his... Ear shapes.

What does work is a beanie he can tuck his ears into, or a crochet scarf(grandpa bun at it again) wrapped around his ears and head enough to cover them. It muffles the sounds.

Carry him. Please carry him, his legs are rabbit legs, his hind paws are rabbit paws no shoe can fit that and he refuses to wear dog shoes. Pavement is hot. Piggy back ride or sling him over your shoulder, if he's off the ground he's happy. (moreso if you show off that human strength)

Hates transportation at first. It's different, he walks or hops everywhere and now he just has to sit still and wait to get there? No. Give him the backseat to move around or find a bus that's not crowded so he can stretch his legs, y'all will not survive otherwise I'm sorry but ultimate "gotta move" attitude.

Other humans will scare him. You do, but in the attractive "this is my partner and they're so capable I love them so much" kinda way. Other humans set off danger alarms 24/7 that you only set off 11/7. It takes a good amount of time and slow buildup in exposure to combat this. If any human gets too close and doesn't hear him when he says to leave him alone(something you and him did practice) then he will fall on instincts and just bolt. So once you lay someone out in the asphalt, you gotta find the bun.

General aside, into family's. This is based around a loose idea of mother father siblings just because that's what I'm most familiar with

Absolutely prey fear in his eyes. Deer in the headlights when your folks opened the door to greet y'all together for the first time. You might have to actually carry him into the house and just sit with him for a few minutes, cuddle him a bit somewhere alone because he's in a human den of unknown humans. He needs to adjust to the many different scents and sights and sounds. And even if you vouch for them, these humans aren't you- he doesn't trust them the way he trust you and his instincts are absolutely screaming. 0/10 experience for the first few minutes.

Let him take his breaths and he'll gather his nerves to greet your family- but the best way would be to do so one by one. Otherwise it's another overwhelmed break time.

Eventually he might relax enough to rest around them, but Nyx absolutely will never sleep around any humans if you are not actively attached to him in that moment. He'll lay and lounge if he's really exhausted but will never sleep around your family or friends or any human if you aren't actively holding him or just close enough he can feel or at least smell you.

Humans are scary, they won't ever feel safe to him, that's just instinct. But you're his human, his partner. He'll sleep like a baby in your arms if it's just the two of you, and even if he wakes and has a heart attack because why are your eyes dilated in the dark and staring at him?

He's always gonna be a bunny boy. Always gonna be a bundle of nerves and hardwired red flag instincts because he is prey.

He can grow to trust and care about your family, but only really because they're an extention of you, selfish as it might seem.

[anika-ann]

A Night at the Museum (A.B.)

Type: one-shot, fluffiest fluff; canon-divergence from Defending Jacob

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader  WC: 5000

Summary: You always loved wandering through your museum after closing time – there was something so peaceful about it, a new layer of beauty to space and all the art that adorned the walls.

Tonight however, the peace is interrupted by a charming handsome man who has no business to be there… will you throw him out?

Warnings: 18+ for allusions to smut, TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF., uncomplete list to keep some mystique - so read at your own risk (but no supernatural elements)

A/N: a story dedicated to lovely @chase-your-dreams-away ✨, to everyone who enjoys a tooth-rotting fluff and to all you lovelies who support my writing shenanigans - you know who you are, giving me love and life 💕 Happy Holidays, if you celebrate! // divider by @firefly-graphics

Every single step you took felt so light it was almost as if you were floating.

The endless beauty adorning the walls, the soft intimate lights reserved for occasional night visiting hours only accentuating the already romantic atmosphere of the art museum, walking through the halls and galleries equalled a magnificent experience that made your soul shiver and yet feel at peace. You let the serenity wash over you as you roamed the art museum, already having helped usher the lingering visitors outside. The sound of your heels echoed in the vast galleries, your eyes drawn from one beautiful piece of art to another, even as you had seen them all a hundred times.

There were simply sights in this world that would never get old, you mused, a small smile playing on your lips, a slow steady pace bringing you to another section – and having you freeze in your step.

Just standing there without a care for the outside world, apparently immersed in admiring a painting – one of favourite, you realized distantly – stood a man. A man who most definitely did not worked here.  Your heart skipped a beat.

“Excuse me, sir,” you called out lowly, anything louder than a that feeling wrong in the otherwise quiet gallery. “It’s after hours. You can’t be here.”

He startled too at the first sound of your voice – his head snapped to you, piercing but kind blue eyes wide with surprise, as if you brought him down from a haze, from a deep thought; from thorough appreciation of art. You would have smiled at that, since you knew the feeling too well, but you were too distracted by the man’s handsome face.

Awfully, unbearably handsome, with a ruffle of dark hair and a clearly well-kept beard, a dark blue suit that only highlighting his beautiful eyes, hands slipping from his pockets as he straightened upon facing you; his biceps bulged a bit with that movement, visible even under the suit jacket. There was a good-natured expression on his face, a pleasant note in his voice as he responded on the same volume, if not slightly quieter.

“Oh. Sorry.”

His voice was as lovely to hear as his face was to look at; almost like he had belonged here, the central piece among the sea of art, a sculpture capturing the peak of a man crafted by talented hands of the old masters.

As you walked closer to him, your chest ached a little; he wasn’t just handsome. He was drop-dead gorgeous. And while that didn’t authorise him to be here, it sure made your approach more amicable. You were only human, after all.

“I was actually heading out,” he continued, “but I just… got a little caught up in admiring the art.”

The corners of your lips rose involuntarily. You could see that easily happening to anyone – it was after all a painting close to your own heart and soul. Some might call it too simple – an image of hands, one larger, rougher than the other, held out palm up to the other, softer, smaller one, fingertips barely brushing, the mahogany brown background with a few lighter strokes of brush adding an aura of warmth. But its simplicity and what some would call imperfections were deceiving.

Many would argue that hundreds of art students all over the world drew a hand study every day. Masterfully executed or not, this particular piece of art could indeed be called plain; but it wasn’t. As things stood, the painting was no Creation of Adam, your all-time favourite, but it had earned a rightful place in the art gallery and n your heart, and it wasn’t only because of how old the painting was or who had created it.

If you were being honest, you were never able to quite put your finger on why, but it always tended to touch something deep inside you. So truly, you understood the man perfectly.

He had no business being here so late – and yet. Perhaps for his pretty face and his breathtaking physique indeed, perhaps for his warm gaze having returned to the painting with curious, soft eyes – you couldn’t just have him dragged away, keen on hearing his insight instead.

“How so?” you inquired.

His gaze snapped back to you, surprised. He examined you for a bit, as if he couldn’t figure out whether you were asking or just bidding your time before security found you, but in the end, he just smiled, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, I couldn’t say. I don’t know the first thing about art, so I can’t even appreciate it properly-“

“Of course you can,” you interrupted him, regretting your hastiness when his eyes widened, watching you intently. You smiled apologetically, gaze dropping before it returned to the painting, the sight of the beautiful man too much – and you were used to looking at art every day. “What I mean is… sure, the knowledge of history of art and art technique can help you recognize a painting’s value to the world, but not its value to yourself.”

You cringed internally; you sounded like a fool, a pretentious one at that, contradicting your own words. And yet, his voice was soft when he spoke again without a hint of offense.

“I’ll take your word for it… but still. Might help to have a guide… what do you like about this painting?” he asked, gaze returning to the art in question. “That is, if you like it at all.”

“I like it a lot, actually. It’s one of my favourites.”

“How so?” he echoed your earlier words, something about the way his gaze flickered to you making you feel warm all over. He sounded genuinely curious. About what you thought. He seemed interested in your very personal insight; and in the intimate lightening of the gallery, you reluctantly gave in, all too aware of how close you seemed to stand now, side by side, barely two feet apart.

“I like how it makes me feel. I like wondering what made the artist capture this particular moment in time – not sooner, not later. Not when the hands touch further or part completely. And what the moment even is. All that wondering just leaves a lasting impression.”

“Yeah… I suppose that’s what I could say as well,” he mused, tilting his head slightly to side as he considered your words. “Tell me more.”

It wasn’t an order – despite the wording, it sounded more like a plea. Something pleasing hummed in your chest, a gentle stroke to your ego.

“It’s the position of the hands. Hands can be so expressive, we can say so much with them, with a touch. And I don’t mean it in the sense of sign language, where people literally use them to form words agreed upon earlier, but… they can convey feelings, capture so much more than words themselves often can,” you tried to explain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You sounded like a crazy person who read Jane Austen too much – and you were all too aware. You often couldn’t help it, when you talked about art – but the poor man didn’t sign up for this. You chuckled bashfully. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all,” he opposed, causing you to risk a side-way glance. His gaze lost nothing of its warmth, quite the opposite; his lips melted in a gentle smile and he was certainly paying more attention to you than the painting. You’d lie if you said it wasn’t flattering. And the electricity you seemed to feel in the air sure wasn’t unpleasant either. “I never thought of it this way, but I certainly cannot argue with that. And I argue for living.”

“Ah. A lawyer then?” you said, his hands rising in surrender in response.

He had really nice and big hands. Someone should paint them. And he should put them on me.

“Guilty as charged.”

“And with a sense of humour, I see.”

There was something a little shy and definitely intimate about his laugh, his gaze firmly on yours. “I have been told I only have old man jokes these days.”

“Well, that’s just rude. You should have that person arrested for such insult.”

“That’s not how this works.” He was laughing again, crinkles around his eyes. He had such a gentle laugh, quiet, fitting for the space. “Now… what do you think is happening here then?” he beckoned to the painting.

You pursed your lips, accepting his prompt.

“Well, that’s one of the things I love about it so much – it can be whatever you want it to be. A man and a woman… there’s this atmosphere of longing. Tenderness to the touch. Uncertainty, as if they aren’t sure if they are allowed. The man especially. Maybe they are future lovers…” You felt your cheeks heat, blush spreading as the man’s eyes flickered to yours. “Maybe not. Maybe it’s a goodbye.”

“How do you figure?”

“The blurry lines,” you whispered, your smile turning dreamy. You truly did love this piece – it conveyed so much emotion, offered so many interpretations. Made you feel so much. “They’re not accidental – the moment is hazy. Maybe it’s a memory, a painful one, a memory of a goodbye smeared by unshed tears. Maybe it’s a dream – dreaming about what can’t be, no matter what the heart desires.”

“Wishful thinking,” he murmured under his breath.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he’s an artist asking his muse to be let into her favour.”

Your head snapped to him in surprise; but for once, he kept looking at the painting. Still, your breath caught; that definitely was a lovely interpretation.

“Maybe.”

“What else?”

Your gaze returned to the painting, even as your gaze was drawn to him instead, distracted, your thoughts consumed by the image of his handsome profile and the well-fitting suit – and those damn hands. He stood even closer now, slightly behind you; you could almost feel his warm breath on your cheek, the woodsy tones of his cologne wrapping around you like a blanket. You could get in trouble, lingering here, with him – but deep down, you felt you’d happily do so. And probably thank him for it.

He spoke again before he gathered your wits, a warm smile in his voice. “Could be a lonely artist who set his eyes on the most beautiful of women…”

You felt the back of his hand brush yours. No accident; a lover’s caress. You felt tingles spread thought your whole body from the point of contact, your heart thundering in your chest even as it shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have such an effect on you. Not after two years of much more intimate touches, teasing brushes of his fingertips, his palms roaming your body firmly, his lips appreciating every inch of your skin. A simple touch of a hand shouldn’t have made you shiver, but it did. With Andy, it always did. Especially when he talked like that, your face growing warmer by the second at his praise. Because it was clear he was no longer talking about the painting on the wall. Not when he ran his fingers over the back of your hand before turning it so your own hand slipped into his easily, and squeezed.

“…and was somehow insanely lucky that she accepted when he asked her out two years ago. And ever since then, his life’s been full of happiness he thought was no longer in cards for him. How’s that for knowledge of history?” he asked cheekily now, full grin spreading on his lips as he pulled lightly on your hand to spin you around to face him, his free hand already cupping your cheek as you giggled, letting the façade fall.

“You’re a charmer and a flatterer,” you muttered as he leaned in for a kiss, palm cradling your face and guiding you closer to his lips, soft whiskers tickling your face as your lips finally met.

His hand released yours, sneaking around your waist instead, deepening the kiss, making your toes curl in your pumps even after having received thousands kisses like this from him.

You had met pretty much like this – with you working late and him charming your wits out of you and having you lose yourself in his beautiful blues, mesmerized by his almost startlingly handsome face, even if he had been the one who had got a bit lost in the museum complex. Sparks flew, hearts fluttered, hands wandered – much sooner than they ever had in your previous relationship. But the whirlwind of passion was wrapped in an intimacy on an emotional level too – you had never fallen so fast, body, mind and soul, but Andy Barber was simply special. Bless his heart, he hadn’t really known much about art back then – but he had a quick mind and willingness to learn, eager to listen to you as you talked about your long-life love, watching you with a curious adoring gaze, a patient smile on his lips.

He told you he’d pick you up after work so you could celebrate the two-year anniversary of your first date. So as soon as you shoed away the last visitors, you hurried to the staff room to freshen up at least a bit. Andy hadn’t told you where he would take you up until two hours ago – where he called you on your short break to inform you that he was, in fact, a sneak who had an exceptional way with words.

Bribing your colleagues with god-knows-what, he had arranged for you to have the museum for yourselves up until midnight – a private tour with the softened lights saved for the evening, likely wandering hand in hand, beauty surrounding you as well as love. You had no doubt he had brought refreshments too, having left work right after lunch, probably preparing one of his excellent recipes; the premise of spending your special night like this with him had you giddy and soft for the rest of your shift. So when you saw him standing there like that, you couldn’t help but re-act your first encounter for a bit – but you didn’t expect him to lean into it so fully, letting you relive the awe of a handsome stranger being so impressed by whatever you had to say.

The nip of teeth on your lower lip brought you back to reality, heat swirling in your belly, having you press into Andy’s firm body further, not an inch left between you just as it should be, especially since your head was already beginning to spin with the lack of oxygen.

He was the one to retreat, smiling against your lips, nose caressing yours, your palms smoothening over his shoulders lovingly.

“You started it,” he opposed, pecking your lips again and then once more for a good measure, a little breathless himself. When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but adoration in his eyes. “I simply played along. …hi, by the way.”

You chuckled and returned his greeting, meeting his lips once more.

“Hi stranger. Happy anniversary.”

His smile was almost blinding as he tucked the lose strand of your hair behind your ear, fingertips stroking your cheek.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he whispered, eyes roaming your face so attentively – as if he was admiring what had been no doubt etched into his memory by now – that your felt your skin heat up again, gaze lowering timidly. “You’re beautiful. I love you.”

I love you. It was a simple admission – but that didn’t mean it still didn’t send your heart flutter, especially when he looked at you as if you were the single most precious piece of art in the whole complex.

“I love you too—what?” you questioned, when his eyes suddenly flickered behind you, back to the painting, and a frown twisted his features.

“There’s something missing,” he mused, causing your chest to spasm with panic. You spun on your heels and escaped his embrace so fast you nearly toppled over. Your eyes frantically searched for any sign of what was wrong – a missing plate with description? Had piece of the golden frame broken away? A- “I do like the painting, but it’s just… it’s missing something.”

You huffed out a breath of relief, turning back to Andy swiftly, hitting his chest with the back of your hand, earning a burst of silent laughter.

“Sorry-“

“You are not! Don’t do that, Andrew!” you whisper-yelled, your ribcage actually aching a bit from the sudden scare. “I’d be in real trouble if there was something missing, you know that! But do enlighten me, Mr. I Don’t Know The First Thing About Art. What is missing here?”

He had the decency to look a tiniest bit guilty as he gently touched your shoulders, spinning you back to the painting, wrapping his arm over your middle to pull you flush to his front.

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful. I know you love this one. But I… I think finally figured out what the scene is about,” he explained slowly, voice dropping back to a whisper, only a trace of gentle laughter in his pleasant timbre.

“Oh?” you inquired nonchalantly, still pouting a bit even as your exasperation evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. You could get fired if something got lost on your watch, so that was a mean joke – but you should have known better. You had known him for two years now after all.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, guiding your hands to lay on your stomach, placing one of his warm palms over them, chin resting on your shoulder. “Well, obviously, they are a man and a woman.”

“Is that how you win all the cases at court? With your excellent observation skills and dead-on-point arguments, Mr. Obvious?”

Andy continued, unbothered by your snarky teasing.

“And he’s an old, maybe a little dorky man, who is crazy in love with this gorgeous woman with passion for art…”

The corners of your lips twitched as you turned your head to him, nose nudging his cheek as you understood where this was going. “You’re not that old… but you’re plenty sappy for sure.”

“Who said I was talking about us?” he teased, squeezing your hands again as he nudged you to look forward again despite your prolonged ‘riiiight’. “But he’s a little bit like the artist, asking a muse for her favour… he’d feel like the luckiest man on Earth if she’d allow him.”

You leaned your weight back onto Andy’s warm body, tilting your head, as a full smile spread on your lips along with the sweetest warmth curling in your heart.

“Well… I know you said it’s not us, but… if it were, he wouldn’t have to ask. He’s already plenty in her favour.”

You let your eyes slip shut, revelling in the feeling of being in the arms of the man you loved, almost tasting his own affection for you on your tongue, feeling it float in the air. You felt at peace; safe, warm and loved. Nothing could measure up to the serenity of the moment. Whatever Andy had planned for you two, as nice as it no doubt was, it didn’t matter much – you could just stay like this for hours, with his lips occasionally reaching to kiss your cheek, your temple.

“I adore you, Andrew Stephen Barber,” you sighed. “Sappy and all.”

His chest rumbled behind you as he hummed, his finger softly stroking your hand, pulling you somehow even closer to him. “Well perhaps he’s asking something else then.”

You felt your eyebrows rise, eyes fluttering open, smile still plastered on your face – you were probably grinning like a loon at this point.

“What’s he asking then? And what was that thing you said was missing?”

He caressed your fingers again. You felt him gulp behind you before he straightened and took your left hand, bringing it to your shoulder, to his lips, his hold on you never faltering.

“Maybe he’s asking if he could gain her favour forever.”

You chuckled breathlessly. Sap. For someone who had already been married once, even if mostly for convenience of an unplanned child, and then got divorced, he sure stayed a romantic.

“Forever is a long time,” you hummed noncommittally, not at all opposed to the idea though.

Andy was without doubt your Prince Charming in a three-piece suit, the wishful image of a happily ever after having crossed your mind more than once. With him, forever sounded sweet – and entirely plausible.

“Yeah, I know. But I want to try my luck asking anyway.”

That was the only warning you got before Andy suddenly released you from his embrace and used the gentle hold he still had on your left hand to turn you to face him, the strangest expression on his face.

Adoration. Affection. Worry. A nervous smile.

Nervous? What reason-

The realization slammed into you the very second Andy began to drop to one knee, a voiceless ‘oh my god’ knocked out of you along with your breath. A little blue box held up in his free palm, he gazed up at you as you watched him with wide eyes already filling with tears.

God, had you had any capacity to do so, you’d feel like a dumbass for not figuring out sooner what all his talk had meant. Why the missing thing. Why this was the painting he decided to stand in front of, this one among hundred others that adorned the walls of this place. Why the hand that had been right under his had been your left one, the whole time, and he hadn’t been caressing all your fingers. He had been – perhaps subconsciously – tracing a line of a ring which he hoped to put on your ring finger.

“Andy-”

“Sweetheart… I’m supposed to be great with words, but now when you’re actually facing me when I kneel here, they all… disappeared. But know that I love you. I love you with everything I am, with my whole heart. I will never understand art as well as you do, but I promise I’ll never stop trying and never stop listening, because I want to understand everything you love. I promise I will always do all I can to stay in your favour, in the favour of a woman who might as well be a muse herself,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes turning glassy as a huge lump grew in your throat, several tears escaping you and rolling down your cheeks even as you were biting your lip – as not to cry, a not to laugh giddily.

He wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of your lives with you and he wanted to make it as tangible as possible. He made this damn moment all about you, a true promise, a true testimony that he meant what he was saying. You bit your tongue hard as not to blurt out your answer before he could even ask the question.

He choked a little as he said your full name, thumb pressing to the edge of the box for it to open and reveal a no doubt beautiful ring – but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at it, not when his lips twitched in a smile, his hand a little clammy as he still held yours. Or perhaps it only felt that way because your own were trembling, your heart threatening to beat its way out of your chest?

“Will you marry me?” he asked at last, finishing the question with a wide grin as you started to nod halfway through, the yes escaping a little too loud in the enormous room, the echo drowned in Andy’s relieved laugh, his hands – indeed shaking – slipping the ring on your ring finger meticulously before rising to his feet and framing your face with his palms and smashing his lips to yours, a grin to a grin, salty tears to salty tears.

Your fingers found purchase into his locks, holding onto him for dear life as he kissed you with vigour, nearly bending you backwards in half, one hand gripping your nape, the other moving to your lower back instead for better balance as he continued to steal your breath all for himself, an insistent press of his lips tasting like heaven and a promise of happiness.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips. “I love you.” A kiss to your nose. “I love you so fucking much-“

You giggled against his lips, returning the affection as much as you could, your heart pounding in your chest, pressed against Andy’s ribcage – his heart was racing too, as if he had run a marathon or argued the case of his life in front of a full courtroom.

“I love you too-“

“Thank you-“

You laughed breathlessly, yelping when his hands slipped under your thighs and he lifted you to up to spin you around, a brilliant smile on his face.

“You’re a sneak, Andrew Barber,” you teased him, the world still spinning even as he set you down, taking both of your hands to place a tender kiss to your fingers.

It was the first time you actually took a proper look at the shiny ring – and your breath caught in your throat, eyes burning, nose tingling with fresh tears.

“Andy…”

It was gorgeous – and most definitely not a mindlessly picked piece of jewellery with the biggest diamond in a ten-mile radius to show off. No. Much like he had shown dedication to the proposal itself – you were getting married, holy damn, Andy just PROPOSED – he must have put plenty of thought into choosing what was to adorn your finger for hopefully a very long time; forever even. Delicate but intricate in design, a bigger centre stone with what seemed to be a thousand of tiny gemstones surrounding it as a halo in an unpredictable but beautiful pattern. He must have spent a fortune on it – it was a piece of art itself. Probably one of a kind.

Just like the gem of a man who now stood in front of you with a mix of pride and bashfulness in his expression as you admired your new accessory – a new promise.

You met his gaze, eyes probably shining brighter than the ring.

“It’s gorgeous,” you sighed, unable to resist and leaning in for another kiss, hoping to pour all your gratitude and delight into his lips. “I see what you did here, Andy. Thank you… and I really really adore you, you have no idea. I’m the lucky one.”

He shook his head with a grin, nudging your nose with his, hugging you close. “Let’s agree to disagree, sweetheart…”

A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips. “Mr. Barber… are you already disagreeing with your future wife?”

Judging by certain sensation against your belly, you weren’t the only one who felt a shot of euphoria through your veins when you said it; Andy’s pupils dilated, gaze flickering to your lips, this time with less than sweet intent, hand wandering from your lower back to the globes of your ass instead.

You giggled and let him pull you to him until you realized the direction you were facing – not. Because like this, Andy’s hand appreciating your ass was perfectly visible to the camera.

“Andy, wait-“

“I wouldn’t dare to disagree… guess we can both thank to our lucky stars then…” he muttered, completely ignoring your protest, lips nearing yours, suddenly painfully slow, butterflies fluttering in your stomach despite the rational voice in he back of your head that your really shouldn’t give in. But how when his palm sprawled further, long fingers reaching to your quickly heating centre.

“An-“

He swallowed your noise of protest and plea at once, your knees buckling an inch when he stroked over your covered slit.

 “Celebrate with me?” he whispered against your lips, his hips rutting against yours making you whimper.

“Andy, the cameras-“

“-are off, I bribed the guard, I swear-“ he cut you off as his other hand slipped under your pencil skirt,  already tracing the line of your panties on your thigh.

“Andy-“ you whined as his lips retreated only to pepper soft slow kisses down the column of your throat, your head tilting back on its own volition as your body craved his touch, your core now throbbing. He’d better not be joking about the cameras, otherwise you really would-

“Come on, love, you gonna let me pin you to the wall like the masterpiece you are deserves?” he whispered and it was a terrible, terrible line, but he nipped at your pulse point and your feet obliged as he back you into the wall, fingers pushing the soaked fabric of your underwear to side, finding your hot and wet and waiting for him. A groan escaped his lips, his hard cock rutting into you as his fingertips teased your slit. “Gonna let me paint you all pretty with my cum, like a good little wife?”

“Jesus, Andy-“

“Gonna say yes to me one more time today, won’t you?” he demanded huskily, a knowing teasing lull to his voice as he kissed you again, letting you taste his sinful smile. He knew you would. You could never tell him no, not when you knew what awaited you was pure bliss, a loving but no less filthy ecstasy.

It was wrong. It was beautiful. It was insane and you’d happily take the leap. You were getting married. What other answer was there, especially with such a reward in your reach?

“Yes,” you sighed, head hitting the wall lightly, the hard warm planes of Andy’s body indeed pinning you in place, right between two damn exquisite painting. “Yes, I will.”

And then, because that beautiful bastard seducing you in the least appropriate place deserved a retaliation, you breathed out the last coherent words you could form before Andy made you forget how to do so:

“I will always say yes to my husband.”

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Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed 🥰

Once again, Happy Holidays to all who celebrate 💕

Headboard info: framed picture from this artist (edited) - https://displate.com/displate/5918780, gif from Tenor

[skippyv20]

Skip, Julie here. I worked for 43 years in fantastic jobs. Some as an employee, in HR, and in Senior Management. My employers were very well known Companies or Government. They had sick leave policies where employees from CEO to newest employee were entitled to medical leave and privacy of all medical information.

As a Manager I was aware of some very serious medical issues and we offorded those people complete privacy. Time to heal was dependent on their medical team despite how much they might have been needed in the workplace (perhaps being the only person with authority or highest level skill to deal with something vital).

A couple of these medical issues dealt with very serious surgery plus complications, and convalescence to deal with consequences of how their bodies or lives were changed and the mental processes they had to go through to understand and accept the changes.

Under no circumstances would I have ever thought it necessary to inform the other employees what was happening with the ill employee other than to update the return date. These people worked closely together but knew the value of allowing the one who was ill the time and space to fully recover. My contacting the employee for an update on whether they needed us was their choice to make, not mine or the company.

Princess of Wales is a senior member of a firm and a much loved member of a family. In her case she has a world wide family who care that she has been seriously ill and as family members we just want her to fully recover physically and mentally from her ordeal. We care and I think that says so much about how highly people around the world think of her.

As a senior member of the firm her bosses are aware of her illness and prognosis and have given her sick leave based on medical advice. I know the taxpayers of the UK keep up the mantra of BRF works for us, we pay them. Ok they are shareholders in the Company and they have an interest in ensuring the Company is providing the service they expect from it. The Company is BRF but no Company provides health information on senior employees except the CEO for obvious reasons. The company continues to operate even if a very important senior staff member is unwell.

My personal view is Catherine has been through a major abdominal surgery that has immediate and long term consequences for her. For HER, her husband and her 3 children. She does not owe any of us an explanation or an update. She loves her job and she does it brilliantly. She is totally loyal to King and Queen, her parents, siblings and the Commonwealth. She will never intentionally cause harm to her husbands family members.

People need to give her the same space we would all expect if we were seriously ill. I know people want to know what happened to her but really it is none of our business. Our role is to allow her time to fully heal so she can return to her role in the Company as soon as possible. No doubt she is already working behind the scenes.

I’m sorry this is long winded but I feel for her. 20 years of trying to please everyone yet when she needs some help people turn on her some will be because they are worried others for their own reasons. People need to send a private message of support but otherwise let her heal.

Princess of Wales, Catherine, God bless and keep you and your family fully protected and return you to full health We await your return, with patience, to your essential role for the Monarchy and we look forward to seeing you with your beautiful family vase soon as you feel you are fully recovered.

This is a lovely, thoughtful post Julie…no not too long.  I greatly appreciate the time and your experience you have shared with us.  I am quite proud of the fact that the people that come to this blog, are sensitive and caring and express nothing but support for Catherine and her family.  People are so concerned with “accountability “ these days….people are simply forgetting that behind the public life….is a real life going on, and people are dealing with all the same issues as everyone else.  The old “walk a mile in my shoes” comes to mind!  Thank YOU again Julie!🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[bugsbenefit]

seeing a "Mike is completely oblivious to his feelings and doesn't know he's in love with Will" take float on my dash from the wild and... i'm sorry i hate this interpretations so much. everyone can see things differently, but Mike having no clue of his own feelings makes absolutely no sense with what we see on screen to me. none

if this is ranty ignore little old me, i just need to complain today lmao

not only does Mike pause to look at Will's lips multiple times, which you could maybe argue he just doesn't realize anymore (doubtful since it's not something he's always done, it only started in s3 which is less than a full year away from s4 canonically)

there's also the whole fact that nothing else of his s4 conflict would make sense anymore. if Mike didn't know he didn't love El, what was he worried about telling her then, that she wouldn't like the truth of? it can't be that he loves her because he knows she would like that. Mike has to consciously be aware of something he knows he should tell El, but can't, because he's scared of how she'll take it

the same also goes for the sbp scene where Mike looks back at Will, shocked or conflicted, because Will is pushing him to confess to El. the initial shock would be inappropriate if Mike was already planning to tell El he loved her anyways and had no idea he actually loved Will

it also means that Mike didn't intentionally lie during the monologue with is almost more egregious because we saw Mike talk to the other's about sending El to Pennhurst with 0 concerns. he didn't know El overheard that so it might be something he thinks El could believe. but he himself would remember that he didn't "fall in love with her that moment", saying otherwise just makes Mike look like the dumbest, most unaware character in the whole show by far. not even just the show, it would probably make him one of the most oblivious characters out of Any show i can think of right now actually

it would also make no sense why we're completely barred from Mike's inner feelings during the monologue. if Mike genuinely believed what he was saying we'd be allowed to know his thoughts, since they wouldn't spoil anything yet. but alas, not only does Finn keep his lips sealed, even the rough drafts from three years ago skip over his internal feelings or thoughts completely which is extremely unusual for an emotional monologue of this importance and magnitude

everything else aside, the idea that Mike would just. not realize. he's queer and in love with his best friend is kind of bizarre to me. it really plays into the fanon version of Mike who is inhumanly oblivious and stupid. because canon Mike is actually not that bad with feelings, he can articulate himself if he wants to and he can pick up on and explain complex emotions he himself feels all the way back in s1. saying that Mike is genuinely too oblivious to realize his feelings isn't at all in line with his canon characterization

and besides it not making sense for his character. it's also a nonsensical choice from a writers perspective. if Mike would genuinely be unaware of his feelings for Will and his queerness; Byler would be rushed. i'm excited for Byler as much as the next person but this would be a horrible way to go about it. because s5 would then need to include:

Mike realizing he's not in love with El

Mike realizing he's queer

Mike dealing with the consequences of being queer in the 80s/coming to terms with said queerness to the point he feels comfortable acting on it

Mike realizing he's in love with Will

Mike and El finally breaking up

Mike and Will confessing to each other and getting together

that is an absurd amount of things to cram into a single seasons and essentially a character 180 in 8ish episodes. and all these points also need space and time to breathe to sit well with the audience. having Mike realize he's not in love with El and realize he's in love with Will would need a significant pause in between to feel good for the audience, but there's only so much time left. that will feel rushed no matter how well you write it. if they just revealed Mike being queer and in love with Will to the audience while having him already be aware of it we'd skip steps 1-4 on this list. the audience getting new information and recontextualizing things that already happened takes significantly less time than having a character go through the realizations first hand since that takes more development time

at this point, there's no way to write Mike realizing he's queer from scratch well with only one season left. there just isn't. especially with the amount of plot we need to cover in s5, the action, and all the other characters that need solid endings. opening a whole new can of worms for Mike is counterproductive. last seasons close character arcs, they don't kick new one's up that would take forever to properly flesh out

the thing that just really bothers me about this whole, "Mike doesn't know yet, he's oblivious" narrative, besides making little sense from a writer's pov and directly contradicting his canon character. is also that most takes just read extremely belittling. because a lot of people who say this seem to be aware that there won't be time to properly explore Mike's character or feelings like this. and they're fine with it because Mike will just be "Will's boyfriend", and only Will needs to come to terms with his queerness, Mike doesn't need an arc. and it's weird. the idea that Mike will have his whole queer realization in s5 hinges on the fact that Mike's character isn't important enough to get a fully fleshed out arc/time to naturally move from point A to point B, and that he'll just go from one relationship to the next with no problems