#my first time thru i sobbed all night

[yellowsubiesdance]

watched all of fleabag again, this time with me mum

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 12: Aphrodite, Goddess Of Love] [Series Finale]

A/N: Surprise!!! A new chapter from Maggie?? On a Thursday?? I was just too excited to wait! Please enjoy the final installment of 1968 🥰💜

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6k

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

The sun is rising, and all the guests have dissipated like morning stars. You and Aegon are sitting across from each other at the table in the kitchenette of your suite, cool grey morning light slanting into the silence, confetti on the floor, broken glass, crumbs from the catered appetizers—gyros, hummus, pita, mini spanakopitas, baklava—stomped into the carpet, spots that are soggy with spilled champagne. The Plaza might have to replace it. Outside, rain falls in a mist. Your makeup is smudged; your hair is falling out of its clips and pins. Aemond is waiting, standing with his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, blonde hair slicked back, blue suit, prosthetic eye filling the void in his skull. You know what happens next, but you can’t bring yourself to rise, to speak, to set it into motion. You stare down at the lines in the palm of your uninjured hand and think of the ropes of a sailboat, the invisible strings of gravity that enchain the universe.

Aegon swipes at his eyes: bloodshot, vacant, continuously streaming tears. “I’m gonna go back to Yuma.” 

You look up at him, startled. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Aemond agrees from the wall.

Aegon begs you in a hoarse whisper, eyes dark and glistening like the Atlantic at night: “Come with me.”

Your hands shaking, your voice splintering. “I can’t, Aegon. I can’t.”

He drums his knuckles on the table, gets up from his chair, rushes to you before Aemond can stop him. He’s holding you, his lips to your forehead, the salt of his tears on your cheeks and your lips, like the ocean is bleeding out of him, like he’ll drown you. “I’m sorry,” he says, breath catching in his throat, his pores hemorrhaging smoke, horror, rum, ruin. 

Once you pushed Aegon away, hated him, stained him with your husband’s blood. Now your fingernails hook like claws into his army jacket and cling there, frantic and childlike. “Not yet, please, Aegon, don’t go, please don’t go.”

“I have to, I’m sorry.”

“Aegon, no–”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He’s sobbing, he’s trembling, he’s gone. The doorway is empty like an unfinished sentence, like a myth no one remembers. The silence floods back into the rain-grey November air. The room is cold like a mausoleum. You touch your own face: tears Aegon left there, muscles and nerves dead beneath your skin, disbelief you sink through like the sea, waiting to hit the floor deep with the silt of rocks and wreckage and bones.

He’s gone? He’s really gone?

Aemond stalks over to the table, smirking, radiant, his hands in the pockets of his suit; he takes his time, he savors it. He’s never been higher. He was right all along. He can’t be killed, he is destined to be the president. It is God’s will. “Get ready,” Aemond says. “I have a victory speech to make.”

~~~~~~~~~~

He heads west on Route 70, billboards and drive-thrus, toll booths and reflective green mile markers, the kids fighting over who gets to pick the radio station from the back of the Dodge A-100 that Otto had hastily procured, handing over the keys as Aegon rolled his suitcase out of the Plaza Hotel. That first night they stop in Wheeling, Ohio, and the kids have startlingly little resistance to this upheaval. They can’t find much to complain about. A road trip with Dad and only Dad, no journalists badgering them for photos or quotes, no orders barked from Otto or Aemond, no exacting campaign itinerary, no scripted propriety, Mountain Dew spills on the carpet, Pizza Hut boxes on cheap springy motel mattresses.

“What do you think about all this?” Aegon asks Orion when the younger ones have dozed off: Cosmo and Thaddeus on one bed, Violeta in another, Spiro lounging across the threadbare sofa with a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring resting open on his chest.

Orion shrugs, that adolescent aversion to vulnerability, like the whole world is out to shake you down for evidence of the defections you’re so convinced define you. “It’s cool, I guess. It’s like an adventure. And we’ll get to see you a lot more.”

“Yeah you will,” Aegon promises. He feels sick: no booze, no pills, the grease of pepperoni churning in his belly. “And I’m never gonna be the way I was before.”

The bathroom is tiny and spartan, white porcelain, black specks of mildew. When he’s done showering, Aegon wipes the fog off the mirror with his fist. In Ancient Greece, a shaved head was the mark of a slave; it was meant to strip the man of his past, to make him brand new. He remembers Aemond saying this one afternoon as they were all out sailing at Asteria, Aegon sprawled on his back and drinking rum from the bottle as beams of sunlight refracted through the glass, Aemond leafing through one of his history books, Helaena throwing bits of pita to the seagulls, Daeron peering through his telescope for glimpses of dolphins, sharks, bobbing treasure from shipwrecks, imagined enemy vessels. Aegon thinks as he studies his reflection under the harsh fluorescent lights—crinkles by his eyes, skin ravaged by years of careless sunburn—that he wouldn’t mind not having a past. He opens his shaving kit and takes out the straight razor he never uses, shears off his tangled, windswept locks of blonde hair, smiles when the kids laugh and call him Yul Brynner the next morning over breakfast at the diner beside the motel, blueberry pancakes and toast wet with egg yolks. He’s not brand new; it’s impossible to be. But he’s getting closer.

The Fort Yuma Indian Reservation has grown during the Kennedy and Johnson years. The tribe now enjoys a steady income from numerous projects, including the leasing of farmland, a convenience store, a casino and resort, and an RV park. The school has been rebuilt—bigger, more modern, air conditioning, hallelujah—since Aegon was first exiled here twenty years ago, but several of the employees have familiar faces, and the current principal was once an English teacher assigned to be his mentor, a different lifetime, an ancient myth.

“You look good,” Artie says as he descends the concrete front steps on an afternoon in mid-November, 75 degrees, bright cerulean sky, no clouds. He takes Aegon’s outstretched hand and shakes it. “Kind of fat, but good. You still play guitar?”

“I do, yeah. I have one in the back of my van right now.”

Artie glances at the giggling, waving children behind the glass windows. “Jesus Pleasus, how many kids you got?”

Aegon chuckles. “Five, I think.”

“Five! Well, they’re welcome to attend here, if you want them to be where you are.”

“That’s a very generous offer. They’ve never gone to a real school before. They had private tutors in New Jersey.”

“What a great way to raise jackasses, if you ask me.” Artie gives him a stern look over, wrinkled brow, narrowed brown eyes. “You sober?”

“No pills, no drinking, occasional weed.”

“Goddamn, that’s a lot better than I expected.”

“Hey Artie?”

“Uh huh.”

“Would you happen to need a math teacher?”

Artie studies him thoughtfully. “I mean, we’re always looking for qualified math and science people. They leave the quickest, those aerospace and electronics companies over in California pay too much. Why? You know someone?”

“I used to,” Aegon says, then motions for his kids to get out of the van. Artie lets them eat ice cream in the cafeteria while Aegon signs his contract.

He’s in Yuma for three weeks before he meets a girl. Her name is Rachel, and she’s a dream that walked out of the Summer Of Love: hair down to her waist, boots to her knees, handknit vests, chipped nail polish and teasing smiles, a taste for sun and smoking. At night they sit under the stars behind Aegon’s bungalow out in the desert, roasting marshmallows and hotdogs with the kids, Aegon strumming his guitar, Rachel playing her harmonica, a few homely adopted mutts loping around instead of purebred Alopekis. She likes him, this boyish sunbeam of a man who always seems just a little lost, a little sad. She might even love him.

And yet there are ghosts, beasts, threads the fates have not yet severed. One night in January after the kids have gone to sleep, Aegon is flipping through television channels as Rachel returns to the couch with a bowl full of Jiffy Pop, plops down onto the cushions, curls up against him. Aegon stumbles upon CBS Evening News, a clip from the inauguration, and his words vanish mid-sentence, his eyes—an opaque, stormy, melancholic sort of blue—growing wide. He doesn’t change the channel. He doesn’t move at all.

“What?” Rachel asks. On the screen is a clip of President Targaryen being sworn in, his wife at his side and cradling the Bible in her hands. She’s wearing Oscar de la Renta—a powder blue wool coat that matches her husband’s tie—and a stately new hairstyle that is very distinctly inspired by Jackie Kennedy. Her smile is serene and dignified, if perhaps a bit remote. She could be a marble statue in a garden or a museum. It must be a lot of pressure for her, Rachel thinks. To live up to being the partner of a man that remarkable. “Aegon? Baby, are you okay?”

After a long time Aegon says, very softly, like it’s only to himself: “He made her cut her hair.”

Rachel stares mystified at the television and then turns back to Aegon. “What happened with her?” Something must have. He looks staggered, he looks haunted, he looks like someone Medusa turned to stone. Rachel knows about who Aegon is, of course, everyone does; but he never wants to talk about it. When people mention his family, Aegon smiles politely and then changes the subject. When they ask about his sister-in-law, he says he needs a cigarette and walks out of the room. She sent him a beautiful, shimmering gold acoustic Gibson guitar for Christmas; the first lady’s name was on the return address. To Rachel’s knowledge, Aegon never thanked her.

Aegon shakes his head, and Rachel can’t tell if that means the story is too long or too short, unrealized potential, loose kaleidoscopic strands of stardust, infinitesimal moments that wouldn’t have meaning to anyone else. “Nothing.” Then he resumes switching channels: I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, the Newlywed Game.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your parents fly north for the inauguration, so proud, so effusive, interviewed by every major news network. Business is booming at the Spongeorama Sponge Factory back in Tarpon Springs. They are seated between Alicent and Ludwika’s mother Elzbieta, newly arrived from Poland. LBJ and Lady Bird are cordial but uncharacteristically understated, retreating back to their home state of Texas like kicked dogs. All the defeated adversaries of the campaign trail attend to show their support, to wordlessly plead for a long-awaited national reconciliation. George Wallace won’t meet your eyes. Richard Nixon whispers through your hair as he clasps your scarred hand: “Aemond could never have done this without you.”

Jackie Kennedy’s chosen cause as first lady was the restoration of the White House, Lady Bird’s was environmental protection. You want to visit schools and help teach math to little kids, but Aemond decides it would be more politically expedient for you to be seen tending to wounded veterans of Vietnam; so you spend many of your days in hospitals, inhaling charred flesh and Lysol and dying flowers and blood. The Japanese ambassador bows lower to you than he does to Aemond. The prime minister of France tries (unsuccessfully) to flirt with you. Athenagoras I of Constantinople, the Archbishop of the Greek Orthodox Church, brings you a komboskini he has blessed. Reprieves come in slivers like a disappearing moon: lunches with Fosco–carpaccio, caprese, bolognese, polenta–and drinks with Ludwika, always something with rum, something that tastes like Aegon. You dream of incubators and arterial spray, stitches and scars and crimson bandages, the flash of blades, the thunder of bullets; but the would-be assassins go to prison and no one else ever tries. You are Persephone in the Underworld. You are Io in the wilderness.

You are just beginning to panic about what you’ll do when your tiny pink birth control pills run out when Fosco shows up to one of your lunches with a paper bag full of familiar circular packets. “I have been informed that I am to be your dealer,” he says, grinning. “I will be back with more in six months. I told the doctor they were for my mistress. I don’t even have a mistress! Isn’t this exciting? I am like a secret agent. I am the Italian James Bond. The name’s Viviani, Fosco Viviani.”

“Aegon asked you to do this?”

“Well, he did not ask, exactly. I do not think I was allowed to say no.”

You hide the paper bag in the Louis Vuitton purse Ludwika bought you, so thankful you don’t have words for it, missing Aegon like Orpheus missed Eurydice, searching through the shade-haunted grey haze of the Underworld for her.

“It was odd,” Fosco says quietly, delicately. “He did not want to know anything about you. He asked if you needed anything else that I was aware of, I said no, and then he hung up when I started to tell him about Christmas dinner.”

You remember Aegon’s words, ghosts from where Long Beach Island meets the Atlantic Ocean: Mimi wasn’t as strong as you. Maybe what Aegon didn’t say is that he isn’t either. You imagine the fates snipping threads, the memoryless oblivion offered by the River Lethe, moons becoming greater and lesser. He has to try to forget you. You have to let him.

On Valentine’s Day weekend, Daeron comes home. He and John McCain are the last two men freed from the prisoner of war camp known as the Hanoi Hilton. When he steps off the plane, Daeron is carrying with him, of all things, a single white rat in a wire cage. The first question he asks, after being engulfed in embraces from Alicent, Criston, and Fosco, is: “Where’s Aegon?” And he knows from the stilted, piecemeal explanations he receives that something has happened. You take Daeron to breakfast the next morning, and you don’t tell him everything, but you tell him enough. He spends a month recuperating at Asteria, then follows Zephyr, the god of the west wind, across the country to Arizona.

Aegon didn’t send you anything for Christmas, and he didn’t respond to the guitar you gifted him with Ludwika’s assistance. But on July 13th, a green envelope arrives in your mail basket with no return address. You open it to find a greeting card with an exuberant cow on the front. Inside, the original message—You’re mooooooving on up in the world! Happy retirement!—has been crossed out with black ink. You laugh, your first real laugh in weeks, and then read what Aegon has written in his chaotic, scribbling penmanship:

I thought this was blank :)

Hope you’re doing okay. You look great on tv.

Then there is an expanse of open white space, like a weighty hesitation. There’s no signature, but there is one final note like a postscript.

Thank you for the guitar, but please don’t send anything else. It fucks me up, you know?

Yes, you do know. Aegon never calls you, but Cosmo does. Once or twice a week he dials your private line at the White House–Aegon must have asked Fosco for it–and tells you all about his new life in Yuma, his school, his friends, the dogs, the desert. Aegon’s met someone named Rachel; Cosmo mentions her intermittently yet with unmistakable fondness: “Rachel makes the best s’mores,” “Rachel told me about seeing Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock,” “Rachel took us to pick pumpkins for Halloween.” You’re glad Cosmo calls, and you’re glad he’s happy; but afterwards you always feel so indescribably, irredeemably sad.

You sneak your pills and avoid Aemond as much as you can, something that becomes easier as he spends long hours reviewing briefs in the Oval Office, preparing speeches, meeting foreign dignitaries, strategizing with his cabinet, and scheming against his conservative foes across the nation, a faction soon led by California governor Ronald Reagan. You stand perfectly still as designers alter Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent and Givenchy to fit you like woolen armor. You strike up a chaste, harmless flirtation with a Secret Service agent from Atlanta named Nathaniel, not because he reminds you of Aegon—Nate is 6’4, 250 pounds, and a former Navy SEAL—but because he listens, because he is kind. He gives you riveting summaries of films and books that are considered too scandalous for you to be seen enjoying. He makes fun of your matronly skirt suits. He takes you to get lemon-lime Mr. Mistys at Dairy Queen. He massages your scarred hand with rose oil.

In May of 1969, Aemond voices support for university students across the nation protesting in favor of increased Black faculty and Africana Studies courses. In July, the Apollo 11 mission lands the first men on the moon, effectively ending the Space Race with an American victory. In September, Lieutenant William Calley receives a sentence of life in prison for his role in the My Lai Massacre the previous year. In November, the Rolling Stones release a new album entitled Let It Bleed. Ludwika gives you the record for Christmas along with an array of perfumes and lipsticks, all extravagantly packaged in a pink Gucci gift box. Your favorite song is Gimme Shelter. You listen to it at dusk in the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden, your chair facing west, taking slow drags off Lucky Strike cigarettes that Nate buys for you, embers glowing as the sun disappears.

“What’s out there?” Nate asks you one night with a slinky half-grin, and then when you don’t immediately answer: “You’re always looking that way. What are you looking for?”

You don’t know what to tell him. Nothing. Everything. Something that almost happened. And slowly, under a lavender twilight peppered with the remote glimmers of constellations—stars that cannot be changed, disasters predestined since before you were born—Nate’s smile dies, and he never asks again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three time zones away, Aegon’s hair grows out and he gets his ears re-pierced, tiny gold hoops that make him think of wedding rings. Rachel pretends she doesn’t want to get married. Aegon doesn’t offer. Once in a while after the kids have gone to bed, he climbs into the hammock in the backyard and smokes a joint, staring absently into the east as the new Rolling Stones album spins on the record player. Aegon’s favorite song is You Can’t Always Get What You Want. Rachel stands at the telescope they set up for the kids—Cosmo’s idea—and stargazes, making her way down a checklist of visible celestial objects.

One night Aegon asks as she’s squinting through the eyepiece: “Where’s Jupiter?”

Rachel glances over at him, then points up at the indigo sky. “It’s that one, the really bright spot near Perseus. Why?”

Aegon shrugs, exhaling smoke. “No reason,” he says; but he’s still looking at Jupiter, wounded, stoned wonder floating on the surface of his watery eyes.

Daeron settles down in Yuma and buys a ranch. He does some work at the VA Hospital a few hours away in Tucson, some white water rafting on the Colorado River, some hiking in the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge, a whole lot of roughhousing with his niece and nephews. John McCain, now a war hero and national celebrity, is always calling to see if Daeron has decided to run for office yet. A few times a year, they receive visitors from the East Coast: Alicent, Criston, Ludwika, Helaena, Fosco, and their three children. The president and first lady are not mentioned unless by accident. The kids adore their grandmother, and she loves them back, although Alicent never learns to appreciate Tessarion the rat and refuses to hold her. In 1970, Helaena and Fosco have one last baby, a daughter they name Marina after Mimi. Life goes on, but the ghosts remain.

On a chilly evening in January of 1972, Aegon is flipping through television channels when he lands on an NBC segment about First Lady Targaryen touring the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. “That’s so fucked up,” Aegon murmurs as she calmly soothes the suffering of mutilated men, and his voice is dark with scorching, clandestine fury. He gestures to the screen with the remote control. “She hates hospitals. He makes her do things that hurt her. He does it just to prove he can.”

Rachel says as she stands in the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, a question she has finally worked up the courage to ask: “No one is ever going to be able to compare to her, right?”

Aegon opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it again. And something washes over him like waves of the ocean, sun on sand, poison in the blood and the lungs, myths that carve themselves into your bones so deep you can see the red of the marrow underneath. He replies truthfully, his eyes still on the screen: “Right.”

Rachel packs her bags. Aegon gets up to help her. He feels it’s the least he can do.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you and Aemond return to Asteria for summer vacations, the seaside Targaryen compound is full of ghosts. You catch glimpses of Mimi stumbling up staircases, Cosmo trotting after you as you turn corners, Aegon smoking a joint under the statue of Zeus in Helaena’s garden. You open cabinets and bottles of his pills fall out. You see Sunfyre bobbing abandoned in the boathouse. The basement is just as Aegon left it. Sometimes you go down there and stand on the green shag carpet in the hushed, cool, damp emptiness, not knowing what you’re waiting for, staring at the wall until someone comes to look for you.

“What’s in these?” Nate asks one afternoon, snatching a notebook off the shelf. “Oh wow, look!” He shows you messy sketches in black ink, cartoon versions of the stories of Greek gods and goddesses, myths reimagined. “Who do you think drew them?”

“Maybe Daeron,” you reply, but it wasn’t him. You’d know Aegon’s handwriting anywhere. Nate leafs through a bunch of the notebooks, booming laughter—he especially enjoys that Poseidon has been characterized as a sexually insatiable dolphin—and reading his favorite parts out loud to you. One notebook is only half-full; the last few pages are covered with drawings of tiny cows, telephones with long spiral cords, the moon in all its phases. You tear these out to keep.

On each July 13th, there is a card with no return address waiting in your mail basket at the White House, always featuring a jovial cow, always making you smile. You entrust Nate with the task of hiding the notebook pages and greeting cards away somewhere safe, an arrangement he honors like an oath.

Every so often, when you feel lethal bitterness kindling, you are struck by the inspiration to find Aemond’s Ouija board. It must be here in the White House someplace, but you can’t figure out where. You search the bedrooms, rummage through closets, climb into the oak cabinets beneath bathroom sinks; you scrabble around like a rodent under the cover of darkness while Aemond is away on state visits and campaign rallies for fellow Democrats. Maybe he makes secret stops in Tacoma or Seattle. If he does, you don’t care. You’d rather Aemond be there than here.

In the spring of 1972, you find the Ouija board in a drawer of the Resolute desk, where Aemond conducts official business in the Oval Office. “Oh, that is insane,” you say to yourself as you slide it out. You mean to burn it in your bedroom fireplace, then think again. On the back of the board, the inscription has faded, as if traced by Aemond’s fingertips again and again.

If I destroy this, what will he do to Aegon and his children? What will he do to me?

You place the Ouija board back where you found it, slide the drawer shut, and crawl into bed, besieged by dreams of smoke and rum and the rumbling bass of Season Of The Witch.

Aemond’s national approval rating hovers between 55-70%—far about the historical average, although he never stops pining for an heir and proper first family to maximize his allure—until May of 1972, when the tide begins to turn. The treaty formally ending U.S. involvement in the war was signed back in early 1969, but the hasty troop withdrawal left capitalist South Vietnam vulnerable, and now it is being invaded by the communists backed by China and Russia. The Fall of Saigon is immortalized in the evening news, printed on the covers of newspapers; people who once collaborated with the Americans are shot dead in the streets. Refugees flee west to Laos and Cambodia and Thailand, east on makeshift rafts into the ocean. The few that Aemond manages to hurriedly admit into the U.S. inspire racism and xenophobia from suburbanites. Many of the hippies have grown up, had children, gotten jobs, settled down with credit cards and mortgages. Protestors march with signs out on Pennsylvania Avenue: America abandons her allies! Our global reputation is in peril! Will the communists invade here next? What did my son die for?

“They wanted me to end it,” Aemond marvels as he gazes out the White House windows. “They begged for me to end it, and now look at them. Ungrateful imbecile bastards.”

And you give him a rare piece of advice that he listens to: “You should call LBJ.”

On his ranch fifty miles outside of Austin, Texas, Lyndon Baines Johnson is dying of heart failure. Still, he smokes more or less constantly, and refuses to adhere to the diet Lady Bird fretfully lectures their chefs about. He has grown his grey hair long and sits for as many interviews as he can, desperate to salvage his legacy and remind people of the things he did right: civil rights legislation, the War On Poverty, rising from a poor farming family to the Oval Office. He knows exactly what it feels like to be hated for having no good options. He says gruffly through the phone: “The Vietnam War needed to end, Aemond. It had to happen. But someone has to pay for it, too. That’s your job now. Take the fall, and the country survives. Plenty of people still love you. And I’m proud of you, son. I know it ain’t easy, believe me. But I’m real proud.”

Still, Aemond fights. He can’t help it. It’s all he’s ever known.

He campaigns at a murderous pace, and you have to follow him across the nation. Perhaps intentionally, there are no campaign stops in Arizona. Aemond does very well, but Ronald Reagan does better; he’s quick and he’s cutting, but he’s also funny, and grandfatherly, and warm, and God knows the American people could use some of that after the past decade. He characterizes Aemond’s policy regarding Vietnam as “peace without honor.” He calls Aemond short-sighted about a dozen times, a jab his supporters guffaw at. He says the United States has surrendered its rightful place as the leader of the free world. His wife Nancy—his second wife—is vehemently opposed to recreational drugs and other supposed moral crimes including abortion and premarital sex. You hate her, and she hates you right back, though in a perfectly pleasant, ever-smiling, mid-century housewife sort of way. Reagan’s disciples call you a whore. Aemond gets the newspapers still loyal to him to publish scathing denials. You aren’t exactly sure why he does this; no comment at all would almost certainly be wiser politically, as Otto advises. But Aemond does it anyway, with deep trenches of violent determination knit into his scarred brow.

The 1972 presidential election is held on Tuesday, November 7th. It is not until the early hours of the morning on Wednesday the 8th that Aemond learns he has narrowly lost. It couldn’t possibly be construed as your fault; he wins Florida by a greater margin than he had in 1968. As the sun rises in a bright, cloudless sky, Aemond’s entourage clears out of the Lincoln Sitting Room, leaving the two of you alone with the droning television. Aemond is sipping an Old Fashioned on one end of the couch. You light yourself a Lucky Strike cigarette on the other. For once, Aemond doesn’t seem to mind.

“You know,” Aemond muses after a while. “Ronald Reagan is divorced.”

Your heart is racing; you aren’t sure what he’s offering. You’re petrified to say the wrong thing and change his mind. “Yeah, he is.”

Aemond nods, twirling his Old Fashioned so the ice cubes clink against the misty glass, not looking at you. “I think I’ll marry Alys and adopt the boy.”

And that’s how you learn that what Aegon said in the doorway of a hospital room four and half years ago was true, no impassioned declarations, no gratitude, only grudges that have grown quiet and cold and dormant. At last, Aemond is done with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Otto, glowering spitefully, getaway car procurement extraordinaire, hands you the keys to a green Chevy Nova. On the front steps of the White House, you say goodbye to a palpably heartbroken Nate. He gives you the notebook pages and greetings cards. You give him a kiss on the cheek, a parting stain of red lipstick. But instead of blood, the color makes you think of cherry-flavored Mr. Mistys, the Lucky Strike logo, roses, sunburn, firelight, the rust-hued earth of the desert. You duck into the Nova and start driving.

The East Coast unfolds into the Midwest and then turns jagged as you hit the Rocky Mountains. At a gas station in Albuquerque, New Mexico, you toss your remaining birth control pills—still squirreled away in a box of hollowed-out tampons—into a trash bin. At a McDonald’s in Asher, Arizona, just forty minutes outside of Yuma, you stop to get a large Coca-Cola and touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror: black eyeliner, gold shadow, both as heavy as you want them to be. You stroll back to your Nova under a radiant November sky that feels like summer, smiling to yourself. The hem of your roomy, floral skirt billows around your brown leather boots in the desert wind. Your earrings are small, glinting gold hoops. Your white tank top is simple and hand-crocheted, found at a yard sale in Amarillo, Texas; but your sunglasses are Bugatti, a gift from Ludwika.

You park outside the only school on the Fort Yuma Indian Reservation and go inside to the front office. The secretary says distractedly: “Can I help you, ma’am?” Then she does a double take. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear, do I…do I know you from somewhere…?”

“You might,” you say, pushing your sunglasses up into your hair. It’s only shoulder-length now, but growing, and wild from the wind. “I was hoping to find Mr. Targaryen, does he still work here?”

“He sure does, but he doesn’t like anyone calling him that.”

Of course he wouldn’t. “Just Aegon then. Which classroom is…?”

But before you can finish your question, and before she can answer, you hear echoing through the labyrinthian hallways the start of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Bad Moon Rising, not just an acoustic guitar but bass and drums too.

“I see the bad moon a-risin’

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin’

I see bad times today

Don’t go around tonight

Well it’s bound to take your life

There’s a bad moon on the rise.”

The secretary laughs, keeping rhythm with taps of her pencil on her desk. “I guess you can find him on your own, can’t ya?”

Yes, you can. You follow the music through long empty corridors, wondering where all the students are. You drag your fingertips—black polish, chipped around the edges—along grooves in the cinder block walls that have been painted over with vibrant murals. The song is getting louder, and now you hear other noises too, an ocean of energetic voices and squealing chairs.

“I hear hurricanes a-blowin’

I know the end is comin’ soon

I fear rivers over flowin’

I hear the voice of rage and ruin

Don’t go around tonight

Well it’s bound to take your life

There’s a bad moon on the rise, alright!”

You step into the cafeteria, raucous with students swapping pudding cups and bags of chips. Many of them are watching the stage, clapping along, playing their own imaginary guitars. Aegon is there strumming the sparkling gold guitar you sent him for Christmas back in 1968. He hasn’t seen you yet; he’s grinning at the kids up on the stage with him—his fellow bandmates, his fledgling rockstars—and leaning back from the mic to give them pointers. But Cosmo has. He flies out of his seat and crashes into you, now nearly ten years old, long blonde hair, a Rolling Stones t-shirt.

“You’re back!” he bellows over the music as you hug him. Teachers chatting amongst themselves by the wall give you curious glances.

“Yeah, kiddo. I am.”

“For a visit?”

“Maybe for a little longer than that.”

“Yay!” he shouts, jumping up and down.

You look back to Aegon, and now his eyes catch on yours: instantaneous recognition, disbelief, amazement. He’s just like you remember him; he’s just like he is in your dreams. You raise an eyebrow and wave tentatively. His own words surface in your skull like swimming up through cool, sunlit water: What are we gonna do about it? And Aegon smiles, the god of light, music, healing, truth.

Now his tiny bandmates are yelling at him, irate. He’s still plucking at his guitar on autopilot, but he’s missed his cue to sing the last verse. He shakes off his astonishment and continues, beaming, watching you.

“Hope you got your things together

Hope you are quite prepared to die

Looks like we’re in for nasty weather

One eye is taken for an eye

Well don’t go around tonight

Well it’s bound to take your life

There’s a bad moon on the rise.”

Cosmo sprints back to his lunch to stop a friend from seizing his unguarded Ding Dongs.

“Don’t come around tonight

Well it’s bound to take your life

There’s a bad moon on the rise.”

Aegon gives his guitar a final few strums as the cafeteria erupts into cheers and applause. His bandmates bow to their audience as Aegon takes off his guitar, leaps down from the stage, runs to you as children twist in their seats to stare. He’s wearing khaki shorts, tan moccasins, a half-unbuttoned white shirt that actually fits him, dog tags with Daeron’s name on them. He’s so afraid to ask the question; he’s terrified you won’t say the right answer. “Io…what the hell are you doing here?”

You shrug, casual, teasing. “Didn’t like where I was. Thought I’d try someplace new.”

He touches your face to make sure you’re real, marveling at you, his voice going hushed. “We’ve lost so much time.”

“Don’t worry. Your life’s only half over.”

Aegon laughs, eyes shining. “I’m really, really looking forward to the rest of it.”

You can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses you; you can hear a quiet, kind melody that fills the universe, the sound of all the chains of gravity breaking and moons drifting free from their planets.

[mcrizzystardust]

scenes that would make me physically die and ascend to nirvana if fantasy high got an animated series the way tlovm did:

the whole scene of riz blowing off biz glitterdews fingers and fig burning his crotch

fabian eating glass

ENDING OF FRESHMAN YEAR EPISODE TWO

adding onto the last one, the whole scenes of arthur getting kristen to sneak him into heaven, and gorgug seeing mr gibbons in orc heaven

adding onto the last one!! kristen thinking shes going to go talk to sol the next time shes in heaven, and ends up finding arthur aguefort and that whole shitshow

gorgug and zelda getting ice cream (with all the bad kids tagging along LMFAO)

fig stealing + driving johnny spells' car, along with that whole fight

BOGGY THE FROGGY

fabian gut punching gorgug on the first day of school

adding onto the last one: "DETENTION! DETENTION! ALL OF YOU, DETENTION"

riz throwing up in fabians backback, gorgug then 'stealing' said backpack

tracker flirting with a completely oblivious kristen when they first meet

the hang van!!

gorgug trying to sing his parents song to porter

jawbone in kalvaxus' mouth, im sobbing jdhdjsbs

"yes, yes, bike, now, lets go get some ice cream!"

THE THISTLESPRINGS DEFENDING THEIR TREE AFTER BANDITS TRIED TO BURN IT DOWN, MFING LAWNMOWER TANK

fig, on fire, climbing thru the window

buddy cubby busting the bad kids out of jail!!!!

gorgug kissing ragh

"goldenrod!! goldenrod!! goldenrod!!"

figs sexy rat, need i say more.

riz, high out of his goddamned mind on snuff, getting his tattoos

gilear being hired as lunch lad, after jawbone takes the position of guidance counsellor!!!

fig playing guitar for bill seacaster ALL NIGHT (think of those like, "8 hours later" spongebob slides)

sandra lynn seducing garthy o'brien???? not that i particularily like this scene, but for the pure storytelling purposes

that entire fucking fight scene with the dwarves, from 'havoc on the half-pipe'

"am i my own dad???"

[sweetheartmotives]

`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三

Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, kidnapping, crying (from clumsy yan), begging (from clumsy yan), clumsiness/falling, angst. BIG angst!

Let me know if I missed any!

The weather was warm and the time was 2pm. You were out with some friends/family at a pizza shop and a family member/friend decided that you should come! You were on your way back to your and your family/friends' private room, until you saw someone fall, and to make it worse, they had a drink and it spilled everywhere. You decided to help them out! You walked over and he was already scrambling to grab some napkins and clean it up, you came over and helped him. He cried and thanked you. After that day, you earned yourself a stalker.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… you met in a very pathetic way. Soda all over the floor and you both on your hands and knees cleaning it up.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is actually a loser. He doesn't go out unless he's forced to. This was one of his many embarrassing moments. But unlike the others, this one had a good outcome!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… waited for you to leave. It was dark outside, so following you wasn't gonna be hard.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was horribly nervous when he followed you. If you turned around, he'd probably cry!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… follows you home and gets your address. Then he runs away..?

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gets your number, socials, etc. He spends the whole night searching for you on the Internet.

He got ur number thru ur address.. don't ask how

•• Clumsy Yandere who… jerked it to your pics. If you don't have any on social media, he probably took one 78 while stalking you.

Onto the genre stuff! :]

•• Clumsy Yandere who… drools over you. He can't get enough of you, so don't mind the drool dripping down his chin!

Casually drooling over you

•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries when you are loud. When they first took you down to their basement, you cried/yelled. They began to panic and cry.

PLEASE STOP He sobs

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is hopeless. They cry and beg for your forgiveness.. What can you ask? Anything!

M'sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive meeeee!! He whined and cried.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… created a playlist for you. They like romantic gestures! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you like. Wanna crochet or play video games? They're down!

Oh? Uh.. yea we can!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was shy about sex at first.. but then humped your leg and cried about how much they loved you.

Mmm..~ ahhh~ I love you.. love u so much..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… likes to paint! They've painted portraits of you and gifted them to you.

Ah.. my love.. look what I made for you..! He hands a nude painting of you to you.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you want. And he doesn't whine or cry! Pretty great, right?? :3

Of course my love..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a crybaby. He's also a really nervous/anxious person!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… has a resting sad face and always looks like he's gonna start crying :(

•• Clumsy Yandere who… owns 3 cats! Tax Fraud, eepy, and coco ♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a loser. A very pathetic loser. No further explanation.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… always trips over his own feet. At any time in the day, he trips. Does he cry every time? Nope, but he's always close to tears and he'll be horribly embarrassed.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gives kisses anytime of the day. Sure he's super shy, but that doesn't stop him from giving kisses! :)

Mwah mwah mwah (〃ω〃)

•• Clumsy Yandere who… lets Stockholm syndrome do its thing. Until then, he'll shower you with praise and love!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… knew it was wrong to kidnap you, but.. is it bad to be a little selfish?..

I'm sorry my love.. I just really wanted to be with you..!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… if you're really suffering while being with him and Stockholm syndrome doesn't work.. he'll let you go. He can't stand seeing you upset.

Goodbye.. my love.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, will always love you, even if you leave him.

My love.. I'll love you no matter what.. even if you hate me. My love will never stop..

This is a bit of a long wait! But I hope you enjoyed it as I enjoyed writing it! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

[shadesslut]

hiiii! could i suggest a fic thats kinda been on the top of my head recently?? soft ethan landry originally tried to get close to the group by getting with amber freemans ex whos the adopted daughter of dewey and gale. originally she died alongside her dad, but the doctors brought her back. so now, she lives in constant ptsd from it and has a bad episode after having a nightmare of deweys death, though even though she tries to not bother ethan about her past, hes there then and helps her thru it

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. I HOPE YOU ENJOY🫶

haunted

Pairing: (Ex-Amber Freeman x Ex-Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x Ethan Landry)

Content Includes: (Angst, fluff)

Main Masterlist

✮

✮

✮

Her mouth was stained with a taste of metallic. Her vision was blurred, everything tinted by a bright white light, but she knew what was happening. Her father was dead, staring coldly at her as he laid on the white tiles of the hospital. Was all of this for nothing? All those years of fighting not only for himself, but for his daughter. All those years of winning those battles against Ghostface. All of the sacrifices he gave, it was taken away by a simple kitchen knife. Taken away by her. 

Amber Freeman. The one who finally got Dewey. The one who haunted Y/N’s dreams, and the one who haunted her nightmares. Tonight was a nightmare. 

She knew she was dreaming, she knew it. But the way Amber pulled off her mask as she laid there bloody, it hurt just as much as it did that day. 

“Please, Amber,” she pleaded in pain. Blood spewed out of the freshly cut wound on her chest. “I love you.”

Amber looked coldly down at her, and at that moment, Y/N realized. Realized all of it was fake. All of the words and kisses Amber gave her; none of it was real. She wished she could apologize to her dad, she wished she could tell him how much she loved and appreciated him. She never did that. And now she never could. 

She prepared herself for the knife to sink into her side. She knew the routine by now, it was like clockwork. It would hurt, it would feel real, but every time, Amber would kiss her. And maybe, just maybe, that made up for the pain. 

The knife sunk into her stomach, and she arched up as she screamed in pain. Amber kissed her, just as she anticipated. Her vision started to grow black, like spilled ink staining a painting. Amber was a painting to her. Her beautiful work of art she loved looking at, even if Amber wanted to hurt her. 

Then, she awoke. 

First she shot up, then she breathed heavily. Her breaths were sharp and quick, and her hand went to her chest as she felt it tighten. Ethan stirred as she started to cry. 

His eyes fluttered open as he looked to the source of noise. His eyes widened, and he immediately sat up to wrap his arms around her. 

“Shhh it’s okay, I’m here,” He whispered. 

She turned her head to look at him, and all she focused on were his eyes. Dark, brown like hers. She hated how sometimes she would get so lost in his eyes, she would think of Amber’s eyes. How they darkened as she looked down at her in excitement. 

“It’s just me,” he said. It was just him. There wasn’t any evil in his eyes

She only let out a choked sob, and Ethan moved her head to rest on his chest. He pulled her to curl in his lap, her legs pulled up to her chest as he cradled her. 

“You're okay, I've got you.” 

She steadied her breaths. Don’t think of her, think of him. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. This was the fourth time this week. He shook his head and shushed her. He kissed the crown of her head and started humming her favorite song. The same song Dewey sang to her when she was little. 

“I miss him.” She whispered under her breath. 

“I know.” He whispered back. 

She didn’t know how many more nights of these she could take. She knew Ethan would leave her soon, that he would grow tired of this. 

“I’m sorry for waking you, again.” 

“It’s okay,” He cooed, playing with her hair. “It’s not a bother. I just want you to be okay. I love you.” 

She looked up at him, eyes glossy. She opened her mouth to respond. To tell him she loved him too. 

“You don’t have to say it. I know it’s hard for you.” 

She let her head move against his chest as he breathed. They sat in a blissful silence in each other’s arms. Her nose whistled as she breathed softly, and Ethan smiled down at her. He was the only thing that made her feel happy. He protected her, just like Dewey did. 

“You know,” Ethan started as he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “The moment Chad pointed you out at that party, I knew I was done for. I knew that you were the one for me, and I didn’t need to look for that perfect girl anymore.”

“Ethan,” she choked out. 

“Let me finish,” he gently interrupted her. “I knew what happened to you last year. Chad told me that he’d kill me if I hurt you, but I knew you could do that yourself. You’re so strong, Y/N. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You are so much more than what happened to you that night, so much more than her. She wasn’t good enough for you, and even if she was she didn’t deserve you. No one does, because you are perfect. I love you. I love you with everything I have.”

She grabbed his hand, and she placed it over her heart. I love you too. 

He kissed her. He kissed her so many times that she forgot about her dream. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel bad about her father’s death. 

That night, Amber wasn’t in her dreams. Only Ethan.

[dabislilbaby]

Come Home

A/N: This is just a little bit of fluffy angst I was thinking about last night after watching the new episode. Aged up Deku, still in his vigilante stage.

Warnings⚠️: mention of blood and scars.

@electricnovaa @haru-x-ren @juslili

"Izu?" You called to the masked man a few feet away from you. He was quick to turn his head, emerald eyes glowing behind his disguise. He saw you, standing under the bridge to shield yourself from the pouring rain. Brows furrowed with a pained expression of worry painting your features. His eyes widened. "y/n?" He quickly rushed over to you, red sneakers splashing in the puddles of water beneath his feet. His gloved hands held onto your arms and looked you over for any damage. "What are you doing here? It's not safe. Are you hurt?" Panic in his voice.

You grabbed his face in your hands and stared into his eyes for just a few seconds. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug as the tears began to well in your eyes. He tensed, he hasn't had a moment in months where he felt it was safe to let his guard down. "I miss you, Izu." You choked out thru your tears. He sighed, his arms finally relaxing and caging you in. He held onto you tight. "I know...I'm sorry." He whispered, burying his masked face into the crook of your neck.

For a moment, the rain was the only sound that filled the space as the two of you just existed in each others arms. It was the first time in so long you'd been able to feel his warmth and you wanted to relish it for as long as you could. He broke the silence when he pulled away from you just enough to see your face, hands still on your hips just to feel you for a little longer. "You shouldn't be out here y/n. It's not safe for you to be anywhere near me I-" You interrupted him with a hand on his chest. "Come home."

There was a silent pause. You wanted so bad to read the look on his face, so you reached for his mask but he flinched. You waited, staring at the ripped, green fabric that was stained with dirt and blood. And when you reached for it again, this time he allowed you to remove it. As you peeled back the layer of his green armor, you saw the scars that littered his face, the dark circles under his eyes and the lack of life in his gaze. He was tired. Exhausted, drained, and worked to death. You cupped his face in your right hand and made him look you in the eyes. "When was the last time you slept?" He didn't answer. Mostly because he didn't want you to worry so much, but also because truthfully, he doesn't actually know the answer himself.

"Izuku please... you can't keep going like this."

"I'm fine—"

"Don't lie to me." He stopped and looked at you, eyes darting between yours trying to find his words. "I know you. You will say your fine when you are suffering." Tears rolled down your cheeks full force as you continued. "Please...don't pretend with me." He reached up and wiped away your tears with his gloved hand. He saw the pain in your eyes and it did nothing but break his heart.

"I can't come home just yet...I'm sorry y/n." Your head fell with a broken cry, more tears streaming down your face. "I haven't seen or heard from you for months." You lifted your head, meeting his eyes again with blurred vision. "No calls, no texts. Not even a note or something just to let me know you're okay. The only reason I know you're still alive is because I keep overhearing conversations about you. Most of which are from people who are terrified of you. It's like you've become this...thing that's just out of my reach. Like I know you're there, but I can't see, or feel, or speak to you." You continued to rant to him, venting all your built up emotions from the last few months. "I have been so fucking worried about you. Having no idea if i'll ever see you again or if you're bleeding out in an alley somewhere with no one to help." You sobbed, holding your head in your hands as you broke down in front of him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, like he was holding your pieces together so you wouldn't fall apart. "I'm sorry, I know it's hard... I never meant for things to get this bad." He held you while you cried shamelessly into his warm chest, tears staining his suit but he didn't care. "These past few months have been hell without you, Izu. I need you...please just—"

"Hey, look at me." He lifted your chin gently, making you look him in the eyes. "I promise I will come home to you, okay? I just can't right now. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because I was careless. I hate every second that I'm away from you, y/n. I want nothing more than to have things back to the way they used to be." He paused and wiped your tears again. "I miss you every single day. You may not see me, but i've always been there, watching you the whole time. Making sure that you're safe." He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. "Just hold on for me a little longer, puppy. Can you do that for me?" You opened your eyes and nodded, sniffling down your tears.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you." You felt him scoop you up in his strong arms and saw the flicker of green lightning. "Now let me get you somewhere safe."

[t1ts-4-scattorcio]

hi!! could you do a dating pre crash shauna hcs list? thank you!! p.s i love ur writing it’s so cute🫶💗

Thank you lovie <3 I'm glad you like my stuff.

Shauna Shipman General Dating headcanons:

The cutest girls with the biggest brown baby deer eyes.

Comes out of her shell when she’s around you, she’s pretty quiet unless she’s around people she trusts and you’re her #1

She drew you all the time. You were in her room one night and her journal was open on her desk. You caught a glimpse of a drawing of yourself, it was a drawing of you reading on Shauna’s bed next to her window ledge. It made you feel so warm inside. 

You so support her art endeavors, gifting the supplies that she wans and in return, she shows you what she’s made. She gets especially excited to show drawings she made of you. 

She gives you notes in class,  telling you how much she loves you, how sweet you are, and hoping you have a good day.

Jackie definitely grills you before you start dating Shauna. She doesn’t know much about you other than you were in Shauna’s English class and that she’s completely in love and won’t stop talking about you. 

She makes you a little nervous when you first meet, asking you a bunch of questions about your intentions with Shauna, she’s ready for you to slip up. Shauna is a little bit embarrassed and wants her to let up but NOPE she needs to protect her pookie bestie. She just wants the best for her but soon enough you both become best friends as well.

You go to all of her games, even practices and pep rallies. She appreciates the support so much and gets super excited whenever she sees you in the stands. 

She’s really protective over you, not afraid of standing up to anyone that talks shit. We saw her defend Nat in the first episode she will get in someone’s face if they don’t back down. 

There will definitely be communication problems, she lets things bubble up inside her until they burst at the wrong time. Reassuring her that it’s okay to be open would make your relationship 10 times stronger. 

Also is very impulsive, tends to jump to conclusions and doesn’t think things through before she reacts, She ends up in really sticky situations that are hard to get out of. She once saw you talk to a girl from your Math class the girly pop was way too close for comfort. Shauna’s thoughts immediately went to equality upsetting you, she would ghost you for a while, not answer calls or texts, not go to your house as often as she did (ect). Your last straw was when she was lying across a random girl's lap at a party and it broke your heart. You thought she hated you and was cheating on you and you couldn’t think of any reason why she would hurt you like this, she saw you sobbing and immediately felt so guilty and followed you like a lost puppy on the verge of tears begging for your forgiveness.

I think another toxic thing she does is lie. She 100% will if she thinks she’s protecting you. It’s frustrating

Is super intelligent and I think that’s overlooked by everyone, it’s great when she helps you with any type of work you have to do. Homework, projects, anything that requires brain power. She also loves reading with you cuddled up in her bed or your couch, she’s the cutest little bookworm.

You love listening to her talk about her interests. People don’t take time to listen to what she has to say, Her eyes light up whenever she really gets into topics she loves. Sitting with her and observing her be excited makes you happy. 

I think her major love languages are quality time and acts of love, her favorite days are when you both can relax together, sitting on the bleachers after practice for a while instead of immediately going home, going to your favorite dining spot for hours, study dates at the library, walking around in the mall. She just wants to be around you, little puppy.

You’re her designated passenger princess, she will happily drive you wherever you’d like. Picking you up and dropping you off from school, mini drive-thru dates where you buy anything you like and binge eat in her car. 

NSFW:

I think she’s more dominant in bed, she naturally knows what she wants and likes to be in control, and definitely won’t be scared to bring that into the bedroom

She goes feral if you only wear her team shirt or jacket and nothing else when you’re together at home

Manhandles you while you’re having sex, and will roll her eyes if you get insecure about how heavy you are, especially when she wants you to sit on her face.

Queen of teasing and orgasm denial, fake pouts at you while you beg for release. “Baby wants to cum, you can wait a little more I promise.”  

Tbh you do anything she is immediately on her knees, she’s so enamored by you. You’re perfect in her eyes.

[frenchfrywrites]

Trimesters

MINORS DNI

Warnings: MC named Feliz who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns top (soft)dom amab, pregnant trans man leviathan, anxious levi, pregnancy kink, vomit (not in detail), lots of mention of Levi's belly :)

terms used for levi: chest, pussy, cunt, he talks about his period very very briefly

An unbelievable amount of thanks to the person who commissioned this fic and their endless patience for me as I struggle and cringefail my way thru august. I hope you enjoy <3

The discovery

Feliz is yanked awake in the middle of the night by Levi calling their name from the bathroom. Puzzled and on the verge of irritation they rub away the sleep from their eyes, then stumble out of bed.

"Feliz," and okay, they didn't pick up on it when Levi called their name the first time, due to being forcefully pulled out of slumber and what all, but he sounds panicked. They quicken their step and find him hunched over the toilet holding,

"Is that a pregnancy test?" they ask, their voice gruff with sleep. Levi's hands are shaking, and when he looks up at Feliz, his eyes are brimming with tears. They drop to their knees between his legs, holding his face gently,

"It's positive, and-and it's not a fluke. I've done five now, and they're all- they're all positive," he manages to tell them before the dam breaks, and he's sobbing.

"Oh, Levi, baby," they coo, holding him to their body. It takes them a second to process his words and then it feels like they've been struck by lightning. "Wait," Feliz pulls Levi's head from out of their shoulder where he's been hiding, "wait, Levi, you're pregnant?" they ask, excitement evident in their voice.

Levi, upon seeing their reaction, gives them a confused look, his tears drying up slowly as he nods. "That's amazing, wonderful- I mean-" they start, but he cuts them off.

"You wanna have a baby with me?" he asks incredulously. Feliz grins- and their cheeks hurt a bit, because it's not often that they do so- before kissing him lovingly,

"Yes, god I love you so much," they finally answer when they pull back. Levi lets out a sigh of relief, and then sobs again, but this time Feliz can tell his tears are happy ones.

"Feliz you have no idea how terrified I was, I was so scared you were going to leave me or- or-" they stop his rambling by kissing him again.

"Shh, come back to bed with me, it's so late, and your silly, pretty little head has given you so much to worry about," they haul him to his feet, first letting Levi toss the test and pull up his pants, then guide him back to their bedroom.

Levi practically crashes into their bed, and Feliz cuddles up behind him, spooning him with their significantly smaller build.

"How'd you figure out that you should take a test?" they ask curiously, running their fingers gently through his hair.

"My period was late," he sighs, sounding utterly exhausted, "plus, I threw up a couple of days ago," he confesses.

"Why didn't you tell me?" they ask, referring to the sickness. Levi whines,

"You'd tell me it was the energy drinks," Feliz laughs at his statement,

"Yes, that's true," they kiss the back of his neck lovingly. "Try to sleep now darling, I think you should tell your family tomorrow," Levi groans, covering his face with his hands. They pull Levi's hands from his face, squeezing them comfortingly "hey, I'll be there too!" they remind him, "you know they're all going to love getting the news," to that Levi sighs, because he knows they're right. "I love you so much, guppy,"

"I love you too," he murmurs softly, relaxing then finally drifting off to sleep.

Trimester One

Levi moans as he finally finishes heaving up this morning's breakfast. Feliz kisses the back of his sweaty neck, wrapping their arms around his ever growing belly.

"Are you alright?" They ask softly, rubbing gentle circles into Levi's belly.

"Am I alright?" He asks weakly, huffing a laugh, "no. This whole morning as been a critical hit at my hp. I'm dying," Feliz moves their fingers gently across their lovers belly, and Levi giggles weakly, resting his body against them.

"Let's get you up," they suggest, helping Levi, who's now struggling a bit with the new weight gain, and sore feet, and sore back, and sore- well, he's just sore all over these days.

"Jeez, my body hurts," Levi whines, after brushing his teeth and letting himself be led into Feliz's room. Feliz hums softly as they guide the taller man into their lap.

"I'm sorry to hear that," they tell him softly, rubbing the stress out of his shoulders. "You'll tell me if you need anything from me, yes? Anything at all, and I won't hesitate to help." They watch in amusement as a blush works it's way from Levi's cheeks to his ears.

"Gwahh, you're so nice to me!!!" He cries covering his blushing face with his hands. Feliz nearly smiles at Levi's adorable response, but instead kisses his neck lovingly.

"Of course I am, I love you, you know," Feliz tells him, causing Levi to squeal and flap his hands excitedly.

Though the morning started pretty rough, Feliz is confident Levi's feeling good now. The only goal they have is to keep him feeling good; and with the way that Levi's moods have been swinging these days, Feliz knows that's easier said than done.

Trimester Two

"You seem-"

"AHHH!!!" Levi cries, jolting in his seat, and whipping his head around to look at Feliz accusatorially. Feliz raises their eyebrows at the reaction, but doesn't offer an apology, It's not their fault Levi was so engrossed in whatever he's doing on his tablet.

"I was going to say, you seem to be in better spirits these days," Levi huffs, and then gives a weak smile.

"Mhmm yeah, I feel a lot better. I'm less hormonal, and throwing up less, and my chest doesn't hurt so much, or at least I've kinda gotten used to it, y'know?" Feliz very much does not know, but nods anyways. "I've been feeling good!"

"And looking good," Feliz adds, because truly they can't help themselves. Levi's belly bump has grown significantly, and he has the stretch marks to prove it. It drives Feliz crazy knowing that they're the one who knocked him up, that it's their baby growing inside of Levi. These days Feliz daydreams constantly about kissing every inch of their lover's belly. They lick their lips subconsciously, and Levi flushes under their gaze.

"You- you really think so?" He asks, nervously picking at his skin.

"Yes," Feliz purrs, taking Levi by the hands and helping him to his feet. They guide him towards the bed, helping him lie on his back, so Feliz can get a good look at him.

"You look delicious," they mutter, and their tone comes off as a little ominous, but Levi only flushes and nervously giggles at their words. "Can I see you, my darling?" They ask softly. Levi bites his lip, pulling up his shirt shyly. Feliz runs their hands along his belly tenderly, the corners of their lips turning upward at the soft sigh that falls from Levi's lips.

Feliz knows they're going to relish this trimester. The glow that adorns Levi is heavenly. And the surge of hormones making him horny and (semi) confident are both welcomed and appreciated. It makes Feliz's cock stir in their pants.

"Please," Levi moans after a while of Feliz groping and massaging his belly. Feliz quirks an eyebrow,

"Please what?" Levi whines, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on his shirt.

"Don't tease," he begs, and of course that makes Feliz want to tease more.

"Just tell me what you want," they say, like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Do you want me to keep touching you?" Levi nods his head wildly, before Feliz can even finish their sentence, "do you want me to touch you," they move their hand down his belly towards his thighs, "here?" Levi takes a moment to think, letting Feliz feel him up.

"No," he finally whines, spreading his long legs, trying to hint at where he needs relief.

"Oh? Do you want me to touch you," their hands drift back upwards, massaging Levi's sore hips, "here?" He moans and melts as Feliz gently rubs the stress out of his muscles, but eventually shakes his head.

"Do you want me to touch you-" their hands start drifting again but Levi cuts them off, taking Feliz's hands in his own and moving them to his pussy.

"Here, touch me here," Levi whines, pressing their hand against his cunt, and grinding on it, "please."

Feliz hums, "okay sweetheart, I'll give you what you want," they lean down to kiss him, their dick now hard and straining- nearly uncomfortably so- against their pants. Levi purrs happily, letting Feliz lick against his lips.

"All you had to do was ask," they murmur when their lips part. Levi glares, but Feliz ignores him in favor of helping Levi out of his maternity pants and underwear, groaning when they get a look at Levi's glistening pussy.

"Look at you darling," they breathe, staring unblinking at the sight before them. "Fuck, you look good enough to eat," Levi keens, his long legs trembling.

"No, no, please," he whines as they lean down to have a taste. Feliz hesitates, staring at Levi with their big unblinking eyes. "Just use your," Levi's voice drops to a whisper, "your fingers," he requests, avoiding eye contact.

"Aw, so needy," Feliz coos, and reaches over to grab lube. They make quick work of slicking up their fingers, and press them against Levi's hole.

Because he's so wet, Feliz is able to slip in two fingers right away, scissoring and stretching him open for their cock. Levi's moans, releasing his grip on his shirt in favor of wrapping his arms around Feliz, pulling them in for a kiss.

It doesn't take long at all for Feliz to open Levi up, and sooner than later they're gently pulling away. Levi whimpers softly at the lack of attention and kisses, but his mood quickly shifts to one of excitement as Feliz begins to strip themselves of their clothes.

Feliz takes a bit of time with lubing up their cock, even if they absolutely don't need to with how wet Levi's pussy is right now. It's just fun for them to watch Levi grow needy for their dick.

"Please," he whines, jutting his bottom lip out in a cute pout, "please," he begs again weakly, looking like he'll genuinely become distressed if he doesn't get fucked soon. Taking pity on him- and really they're getting desperate too- Feliz presses the head of their dick against Levi's entrance.

Levi lets out a long, drawn out moan at the sensation of being filled, and wraps his long legs around Feliz's waist, pulling them closer.

They slowly inch their hips forward, pushing gently into Levi. For the sake of any and all anxieties that the both of them hold, Feliz has been especially gentle and careful ever since that fateful night when Levi called them into the bathroom. It's an agonizing few minutes, but finally their hips meet his as they bottom out.

"Fuck you feel good," Feliz hums, massaging and petting Levi's belly as they wait for him to adjust.

"Um, you feel good too," Levi tells them, barely above a whisper. Feliz presses a sweet kiss to his lips, delighted by the confession.

"You can move," he says when they pull away, quickly adding a nervous, "if you want to, I mean."

Feliz lets out a soft laugh, and gladly begins with a soft, but steady pace. Levi moans, knocking his head back against the bed. Ever the indulgent lover, Feliz picks up the pace very quickly, because the way that Levi tries- and fails- to rock his hips back against them is telling of how worked up he is.

"I'm gonna cum-" Levi gasps, like it's a shock to himself. "Fuh-Feliz, please- ah- faster?" he begs, clenching and fluttering around their cock. Feliz complies, their hips snapping in an erratic pace, as they near their own orgasm. Seeing Levi like this, coming apart so quickly, so desperate and needy, and so beautifully full and pregnant gets them nearly embarrassingly worked up.

"Please, please, ah-need it, need you, so- oh- close, close, Feliz," Levi cuts himself off with a choked moan, clinging to Feliz like he'll die without them. His breathless, frenzied babbling makes Feliz feel hot all over, and they know they're close.

Levi finishes first, his voice cracking as he cries out Feliz's name and locks his legs around their waist, his pussy clenching and fluttering around them until they follow soon after. Feliz fucks Levi through their orgasm, pumping him full of their cum and basking in the sweet mewls and moans that escape Levi as they do so.

Once both have come down from their highs, Feliz goes to pull out, but Levi stops them.

"Um, can you just," he picks at the bedding under him, mumbling at a nearly incomprehensible level, "stay inside me, cause I'm gonna prob'ly want more, soon, like really soon, if that's okay," he trails off, awaiting judgment.

Their dick twitches, blood already flowing back down as arousal sinks deep into their gut at Levi's words.

"Yes," Feliz breathes, "sweetheart I'll keep you full as long as you need me," they promise, sealing it with a kiss. They can feel Levi smile into the kiss, and they know there's a long night ahead of them.

Trimester three

"You're still awake?" Feliz groans, wiping the sleep from their eyes. They'd woken up to see Levi illuminated by the light of his monitor, clicking away at his newest game. Before they made it clear that they'd woken up, Feliz listened to him explaining what he's doing in the game to the baby. He's taken to talking to the baby a lot these days.

Levi turns sheepishly to Feliz, embarrassed at being caught. "Sorry," he mutters, "couldn't sleep." Feliz hums,

"Did you try?" and Levi doesn't answer, because they both know the answer. "Come here and lay down with me," they plead softly, "I want to touch my baby," and it's unclear whether Feliz is talking about Levi or the bump.

With a growing smile, Levi hauls himself up, and waddles over to the bed. He lays down with a bit of difficulty, but it's all worth it when Feliz wraps their arms around him. Levi sighs contently, his eyes fluttering shut. In moments he's fast asleep. In the dark, Feliz smiles to themselves, happy that Levi's able to sleep now, knowing (and slightly dreading) that they'll have many sleepless nights in the near future.

The Baby

"It's so beautiful," Feliz gasps in awe, holding their newborn for the first time. Levi would probably cry if he wasn't so sleepy. Seeing Feliz holding their baby makes him so overwhelmingly happy he doesn't know what to do with himself. All he can do is reach out weakly. Feliz gets the message, because they always know what he wants, and carefully places the baby in Levi's arms. They then join Levi in the hospital bed, wrapping their arms around him, and staring at the baby as it sleeps peacefully.

"I love you," Levi whispers, looking at the baby, and then Feliz. Feliz kisses Levi's cheek lovingly, "I love you too."

[dietmountaindewbae]

Alex's dick being too big and he doesn't want to hurt you so her prevents you from going all the way down when your riding him but when he's asleep you get really horny and try to wait but u can't so you ride him when he's sleeping and u go all the way down and he wakes up to quiet sniffles and sobs and mouns and whining coming from you because it hurts so fuckin bad but feels so good then he starts degrading you and telling you how your so desperate for him cause you couldnt wait.

It's a lot ik but it's all I could think about this past week 🙈

xiv. trash magic

alex turner x reader

anonymous requests

word count: 4906

summary: You met (early 2018) Alex at the casino through a dating app

warnings: bruises, bite marks, pa!n k!nk.

song recommendation: trash magic by lizzy grant

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆ 

The clock on your phone tells you it's time, you glanced at each door, fixing your dress, putting powder on your nose and lip gloss on your lips, and you waited impatiently for his arrival, there were no new messages, no missed phone calls, you were under the impression he always was on time for everything, but a few minutes had gone by and he wasn't there, maybe you were exaggerating.

"Looking for someone, baby doll?" You turned your face and smiled at him.

"Hi" Your voice trembled, this was actually happening, "It's nice to meet you"

"Woah, you look gorgeous" He took a moment to take all of you in, the features of your face, the shape of your lips, the color of your eyes and cheeks, the texture of your hair, and the dress you wore leaving enough for the imagination, "Follow me, I got us a table" He grabbed your hand, signing you to follow him, your heart was at its pick, you felt nervous as fuck, he has noticed your hand was shaking, your breathing was short, he glanced at you up and down as he ordered the elevator, "First time doing this, right?" He sounded so confident, and you shrugged.

"I-I mean... n-no... yes" You confessed, you had tried that dating app your friend had told you to use, if you wanted someone to constantly give your gifts, take you out to dinner to a place you could only see the inside thru the glass, take you out shopping, and spoil you, you ought to sign in to Honey & Sugar, a website for men who looked for a sugar baby, you had to be 18 at least, and on your birthday while drunk you signed in.

"It's ok, doll, I think you and I will get along pretty well" The doors opened, and he walked you down a hallway, he had invited you to a hotel, swearing they had the best drinks in the bar, you trembled when he opened the door of a hotel room, thoughts were quick to appear on your head, "This is my place" He opened the door of a huge penthouse filled with couches, a huge TV, a big living room, and dinner table, there was even a piano, it was the size of your house, all in one floor, it was elegant, and cozy at the same time.

"Wait... your place?" You asked him, does that mean...

"Oh yeah, I'm the hotel owner... I have this to myself, I spend a lot of time here... so why not have a place here as well? A second home for me," You felt like you hit the lottery with that man, he wasn't like you thought, he had a profile picture with his friend, and you weren't sure who out of the two of them was Alex, but God, he was a handsome man, his long hair and beard suited him perfectly, his elegant night suit, black was his color, his eyes were dark and moody, you wonder what could he be thinking.

"It's wonderful," You said to him, you were in awe by the amount of room it had.

"And if you love this, look outside" He opened the glass door of his balcony, and outside there was dinner for two, the view of the streets of LA, and the moon shining right behind the table, he smiled at you, he loved how that pink silk dress hugged your body so perfectly, and your knee socks, they were a bit junior but he loves the way they fit you, "What do you think?"

"I'm blown away" You giggled as he pulled a chair out for you.

"Dinner is served," You felt like the lady and the tramp with a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs on your plate, "Not the fanciest but you said pasta never goes wrong" He pulled out a chair for you.

"And I was right, wasn't I?" He sat in front of you twisting his fork in the plate.

When he said you would get along well, you never expected it to go so well, like that plate of wine and pasta, both complemented each other well, he never forced you to talk about anything of your private life, even though to know someone you have to have a little trust, and he inspires you that, it was so easy to talk with him, he listened, and laughed, jokes around, he was a humble man, when you get to the top everyone expects you to be cocky about it, but he never changed his personality, honest, and kind-hearted, he was confident but it wasn't confused with cockiness, he wasn't as fluent when he tried to explain to you something complexed but you listened closely as he looked so cute explaining things he was passionate about.

He was blown away by you, you were brilliant, and funny, kind, and understanding, you were very mature for your age, when he was yours he never wanted to hear anyone's advice and just did what he thought, tried, and failed until he eventually settled down and got his shit together, you, on the other hand, were just finishing high school, packing your stuff for college, talking about the future with him was helpful, you've never met anyone as wise as he was, and his way of speaking was just like poetry, you were quick to fall for him.

After dinner, he excused himself to grab a cigarette from his coat, you stood up, your hands ran on his waist, hugging him from behind, this making his heart melt instantly for you, your doe eyes taking the worse out of him, he embraces you, his arms around your shoulders as you see how little everything looked from above, while he looked down at your flushed cheeks, and nose from the cold air, when you look up at him, he finds you so attractive, he caressed your cheek, running his thumb thru your bottom lip, you smiled nervously, you were too shy to be even touched like this, even if it wasn't much.

"You've never done summat like this before, have you?" You said no with your head, "You want this?"

"I do," You said looking at his eyes, sweet like honey.

"You want me?" Your arms looped around his big shoulders, he took out the smoke from his mouth, and you inhaled the dense air into your mouth, he shut the space in between you, his warm lips tasted like wine, and his cigarettes, it was so intoxicating and addictive, his lips were eager, while you tried to keep it cool, your heart beat against him, he could feel how you tried to let go as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, caressing your hair, pulling you closer to him by the hip, eventually you let go, forgot about everything, the ground you were standing up on, the place that you were, suddenly your head was up in the clouds, floating, and enjoying the taste of his lips until you eventually let go of his lips.

"Why don't you stay?... we can make the night last longer" Your eyes spark and you nod, he wraps his arm around your waist, his hand landing on your lower hip, your heart speeds of anticipation, you weren't sure what was going to happen, or even if you were ready.

He walked you into his room with golden lights, hand on hip, peppering your cheek with tiny ticklish kisses, he sat on his leather couch and pulled you into his lap with no struggle, "Do you feel like having a small treat, babe?"

"I don't know, what do you have in mind for me?" You whispered into his ear with your soft voice.

"I have a lot of things in mind for you" He drawled, his eyes so magnetic and dark, "But for now..." Served on a silver platter there was some rich dark chocolate and fresh strawberries for dessert, he turned his music up, and you thanked him as you fetched the champs glass from him, he sat you back on his lap, and you leaned forward to grab a strawberry but he stopped you, taking one for you, putting it between your teeth, signing you to bite, and he smiled at you when he saw you chewing it, "Take another bite" He insists dipping the strawberry in the chocolate, his thumb had some chocolate on it too, you licked the remaining leftover on his thumb making him sigh content, "You must be really hungry still right?"

"Very" You pecked him on the lips, and he dipped one more in the chocolate, you closed your eyes, humming as you bit the strawberry off his fingers, he traced his thumb over your lips, his index, and middle on your neck, pulling your chin down to kiss you roughly, his tongue lapping over yours, tasting your heavenly mouth, you were gasping for air as he deepened the kiss, he shifts you to sit directly on his lap, startling him between your legs, his hands dropping to your ass and gripping it roughly.

"You have what I want right here," His hand sneaked between your legs, into your panties feeling the wet patch you left, "And I bet is even tastier than just some strawberries... listen, little girl, I'm gonna show you how real men do it," He shifts your underwear to the side, his fingers playing with your clit roughly, you stifled your moans, feeling the angst and the nerves fulling your blood system.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, he got lazy with the pace, you saw it on his face, you missed one crucial word, the one that began everything, "Daddy..." He pulled your dress up to your waist to finally have complete access to you, he pushed one finger inside you, and your walls were so tight and warm.

"Fuck, you're so tight baby, got all wet since I kissed you, I knew you loved it" You sighed trying to get his finger to reach deeper, "You like this? do you need more babe?" He drawled taking his finger out of you and rubbing your clit in circles.

"Oh... daddy, please give me more" He used his index and middle finger to fuck your little pussy, it was so wet for him it was unbelievable, you complain a little about the stretching on your walls but shortly you got used to it, and it began to feel more enjoyable as you grind your hips into his fingers.

"Make yourself feel good babe, then I'll take you to bed" You whimpered, you were more than ready to take him, even felt excited, but first you wanted to return back the pleasure he was giving you, your hand stroked his cloathed cock, he was stiff and long, thick, it would definitely hurt once inside you but you were prepared, "Playin' round with me I see" You purred a yes, shuffling your hand inside his trousers feeling every inch of him completely, he spread his legs open, and rests his head back on the couch as you began to jerk him off slowly, the tension was growing hotter as you kept grinding against his groin, the veins on his neck popping up to the surface, your lips were content to attack his neck with kisses, softly nibbling on a spot that made him groan loudly, you thought you had hurt him, you pulled your mouth away thinking you had hurt him.

"I'm-" His hand brushed against the bruise you had left him, but instead of getting angry he smiled at you.

"You're eager, aren't you doll?" You softly smiled, "Don't be sorry, It's ok" He said just as if he could read your mind, your heart began to pump faster as he inched closer to your ear, leaving ticklish kisses on it, "You're so beautiful" He pushed his hips up, his boner brushing against your cloathed clit making you moan softly, "You don't need this anymore... take your clothes off for me, do as daddy tells you" You pulled away from his warmth, he turned you around helping you with the zip of your dress, watching slide down carefully revealing your naked back, you pulled away sliding down the straps of your dress, and the straps of your bra fell down your arms to the floor along with your white knickers, your big eyes glistened with the lights, the golden cross on your collarbone being the only thing left in your body, and you looked so innocent, exposed, fragile, your skin was smooth, he couldn't see a single flaw in your body, he stared at it in awe, you watched as a spark appeared on his eye, but you weren't as comfortable with the nudity of your body, you didn't look at it the way he did, it was so penetrating, you hugged your body with your arms, "No, don't" He said standing up from the couch, "If I could have you like this all day,"

"You can have me any day, daddy" His heart melts into your hands as you talked, "Keep me," You said, he caressed your face, like a little puppy he held you in his arms, taking you to bed, your back landing on the silk bedsheets, he ran his fingers down your hair, and you closed your eyes as an instinct, he kissed your tenderly, his chapped lips so heavenly.

"I'll take care of you just fine doll, you'll be loyal to me, right?"

"Yes, daddy," You said with no doubt, "I don't need anybody else but you"

"Mmm, I love the sound of that," He touched your golden cross, and he smiled, "Strict household I see...you're far away from there now, you won't need this anymore" He carefully took your necklace away, "You're lost little girl, I can shelter you, I can take care of you... always," His words were the ones you needed to hear, now that you had him, you knew nothing was gonna be missing, your plate was full, and your heart had healed, he had worked you up just about enough now, and a part of you wasn't ready to see his enormous size, you trembled, "Too much for you, doll?"

"I've- never... I've never gotten this far" You admitted.

"I gotta warn you, it's gonna hurt for a minute... if you're not ready, tell me, it doesn't matter to me... what matters is that you're with me, and I promise if you do, nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, I can wait, besides... there are other options for me to make you feel so good" You hummed.

"Show me, please daddy" He smirked so evilly, and he slowly descends kissing your belly and spreading your legs open, he spat in your sensitive spot, shivers crawled up your spine, he licked a bold stripe, and he pushed his fingers inside you, the stretching felt so good now but it was nothing compared to what he had, but it was all you thought you could handle for now, he pressed his tongue down on your clit, his beard tickling between your legs, all the sensations mixing so well, it didn't take long until you were pulling on his hair, your legs were uncontrollably shaking, and you were set free, sweating and panting, "Fuck darlin', you taste so good, came for daddy so well, you're my good girl" You kissed him sloppily, he giggled at how happy he just made you, your whole body was tired, and he laid you down on the bed gently, "I think it's bedtime for you and me"

He stood up, and took his clothes off in front of you, he discarded his belt to the side, along with his other clothes, and you could see the outline of his dick on his Calvin's, you bit down on your lower lip.

"See sommat you like, babe?" He made you giggle, he covered your body on the bedsheets and he tag along with you.

"I'm sorry, daddy," You said to him, you were ashamed, you had given him one of the most uncomfortable boners, but he waved it off.

"Don't matter, it'll be gone in a minute or two" He left a small kiss on your forehead, "Sleep, you must be tired, right?" You nodded, cuddling closer to him, back pressed against his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him, "Hmmm, you won't make things easy for me if you rub yourself up like that" You giggled, and the lights went off, you took a distance, and you closed your eyes to sleep, but your mind kept looping around an idea, you were ready, if he was capable of making you finish with just using his tongue and fingers, God, what else could he do? what else could he show you? maybe you should take the initiative, surprise him, and show him how good can you be too.

At around 3 in the morning, you woke up again, feeling a dull ache between your legs, the ideas, the images, what had you seen, what he could do, what could he feel like, everything was pilling up for you, and you once felt a heat no one else could extinguish but him, you rubbed yourself closer to him, his breathing warm against your ear, you could feel he still was a little stiff, you were eager, and you began to grind your ass close to his groin just like you did in the couch, you remembered how much did he enjoy that, he began to get stiff again, but what else could you do, you grabbed your phone, taking advice from a friend, she had more experience, and you wanted to make him feel just as good, she said to wake him up, giving him some head, you didn't know exactly how to do that, you watched a few videos thinking you could mimic the movements of the other girls, and when you felt like you could do it, you put yourself up for the test.

Your hands slowly descend down his body, he groaned in his sleep when you stroked his dick thru the sheets, you smiled at his frown, he looked so cute with his eyes closed, and his eyebrows pushed together like that, you climbed on top of him, taking the blanked off his body, and carefully pushing your warm hands inside his boxers, you took it out, your hand lightly stroking his dick up and down, and you licked his tip with your tongue, going in small circles, he slowly began to wake up from his slumber.

"Babe-" His voice raspy, and heavy with sleep, "God, what are you doin'?" His heartbeat began to speed, his cock getting harder as you stroked him.

"I wanted to help you, daddy... make up for it," You said, your whispering echoing in his head, you gulped before you took him in your mouth, you fitted in what you thought you could handle, he gasped, and moaned loudly, "Am I doing good?"

"So fuckin' good, babe, you really wanna make me feel good, huh?" You nodded clinging to every word he tells you, "Spit on it," He said, you mimicked the way he did it when he went down on you, a string of warm saliva glistening with the cool light of the moon, "Fuck... just like that, now spread it" You took your hand and pumped him up and down, you didn't know if you were doing correctly but he seemed to enjoy it, "Take it inside your mouth like a big girl, can you do that?" You said yes with your head, and you opened your mouth as wide as you could, taking him inside, "Mmmm, now move your head up and down," You bopped your head up and down for a few moments, you were doing it fast, "Hollow your cheeks, suck it" He panted with his dark and raspy voice, you hummed and hollowed your cheeks like he said, "Mmm fuck babe, just like that, you're doin' so good, you're making daddy feel so good," You sucked harder with each time, it was mindblowing to him how close he felt now, he pushed your head up, you mouth making a loud pop, "Babe, slow down... let daddy enjoy it" You took it slower, in a more calm pace hearing him hum in satisfaction, you moaned around him, "Do you like sucking daddy's cock?"

"Yeah, I do daddy" You sounded so confident now, he had the idea of a more shy you but now that both of your feelings have been revealed, he liked this more confident and bratty side of you, "Are you close, daddy?"

"Very... you're making me so proud, babe girl, get daddy to finish, show me" You speed up your pace once more, sucking harder, bopping your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his dick focusing more on the head, that was his sweet spot, it made him lose control, and he pulled your hair as he came inside your mouth hot and heavy, "Swallow daddy's cum" He ordered, you took a deep breath in, your heart was rapidly beating, and you swallowed his release, "That's a good girl," You crawled to him, your silky hair made a mess, a soft pout on your lips, he lightly pecked them since you didn't give him the opportunity to kiss them as rough as he wanted, he was still dazed with sleep, but you needed more, you sat directly on his cock once more, it was still stiff, you felt ready, you wanted him more than anything, and the need over the pain you would feel was bigger, you grabbed his dick and pressed it against your entrance, you wimpered at the stretch, it was really painful at the beginning, you were sure about to give up, he heard your little sniffs, and weeping, "Babe-" He opened his eyes and watched your eyes water, as you finally had managed to fit all of him inside you, your whole body fell down, and he held you in his chest, "Are you ok, angel?"

"Y-Yes, daddy" You whimpered, "I'm ok" Your voice sounded so fragile against his ear.

"God, babe, you never stop to impress me, and for fucks sake you feel so fuckin' tight, so wet for me... you make daddy so fuckin' happy, but you gotta be careful, I don't wanna hurt you"

"You won't, just g-give me a moment, please daddy" His fingertips grazed your back up and down as you tried to compose yourself, softly humming in your ear the song that played on his stereo, and when you felt ready, you put your hands on his chest, moving your hips back and forward very carefully but more sure, "Ugh, fuck... it feels s-so good" You shivered as you felt him so deep inside you, it felt wonderful, finally you understood what was that you were missing out on.

"I can feel you, and you feel so lovely babe," He helped you guide your movements, slowly picking up a pace you enjoyed, and most of all you felt comfortable with, your body was covered by a wave of goosebumps in places you didn't even know you could get, he rocks you back and forward, "Couldn't wait to get it all inside you, darlin'?"

"You're so b-big" You lost control over your movements, Alex grinding your hips against his body, holding you for dear life, gripping your skin until it bruised, but you didn't care, you loved to have the reminder of how good was he making you feel, he heard your moaning, he entered a magical trance, your lips attached to his, and he lost control of his movements, but you didn't care, you encouraged them, "Go faster, p-please daddy" You begged, he bends his knees, pressing you up to his chest, and pounded your little hole over and over again, your legs were trembling as you felt closer, "I love it," You said, as you hold on to his chest, you dig your teeth into his shoulder, he moaned as he felt your walls tighten, clenching around his tightly.

"Babe, I-I'm gonna cum," You giggled, and whispered to his ear.

"Cum inside me, please, daddy" Your weak voice was all that he needed to hear to burry himself inside you, covering your insides with his hot release, and you covered his cock with your juicy release, both panting as you came down from that high, "I love you, daddy" You quietly said, but he heard it loud and clear.

"I love you too, my babe, you're daddy's girl" You hummed, he left you tired, and worn out, but happy, and most of all in love. He holds you in his big arms, pulling out of you slowly, you whimpered at the feeling of emptiness, but your heart was full of him, "Let's get you cleaned up," He carried you to the bathroom, legs wrapped around his strong torso, he sat you on the sink, and damped a towel to clean you up, he did it in the most caring way possible, "Do you feel ok? Nothing is hurting or anything, you need to tell me honey, I don't wanna-"

"I had a great time, I'm ok daddy, cross my heart" You did a small cross on your chest and gave him a bright smile, he gave you privacy to go to the bathroom and when you looked in the mirror you saw your runny makeup, but somehow you felt like you were glowing, later on, you joined him in the bed, spending the rest of the night cuddled up to him, you felt sheltered in his arms.

⚬✧˖ °☾☼

The sun rises behind the curtains, you roll on the sheets of the comfortable bed, you quickly realized you woke up alone, in the bed, you patted the spot next to you, yesterday you felt on cloud nine, and he was gone like pure magic. You had thought of everything that could possibly go wrong, but suddenly as you were trying to find your clothes you heard someone had closed the door, and footsteps coming your way, and he quietly opened up the door to find you sitting on the bed with a frown.

"Did I wake you up, my love?" The look on your face said everything, he walked up to you caressing your cheek, and you snatched your face away, but he redirected it, his thumb on your chin, "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," You said, crossed arms, he eyes you up and down, he looked so powerful dressed with his big coat, and stripped button-up shirt, he saw right thru you.

"Oh, come on, tell me," You moved your head from side to side, and he tickled your sides, you couldn't escape him, and you couldn't stop laughing, he pinned you down on the bed, he left a small kiss on your nose as he looked at you up and down, "You're gorgeous, I like it more when you smile at me, be honest, you can tell me"

"I just... thought that... you had left me," You spoke, he laid next to you, you couldn't believe you were still naked, you covered your body with your arms but he took them away, "I can't spend the rest of the day naked, Alex" You joked.

"Yes, you can, don't ever think I would do such a thing, the only reason I left early was to get you a lil somethin'" From his back pocked he reached to grab a black velvet box, you smiled at him, "Do the honors" You opened the small box, and inside there was a golden chain, his golden chain.

"But... this is yours, Alex" He moved his head from side to side, putting his golden chain around your neck.

"It's yours, I just wanted to find a good box to put it in, wrap it up for you... everyone's gotta know that you belong to me, no one else, just you" Your cheeks painted dark crimson, no one else had done something like this for you, "And... I got some other things for you" He grabbed your hands and let you outside to his living room, you saw two channel boxes, along with other bags of clothing you had never thought you would ever get, "Went on a little shopping spree, got somethings for me girl," You gasped as you saw the most gorgeous pair of heels, and boots you would ever own.

"This is vintage channel! How did you?-"

"Karl's an old friend of mine, when I talked to him about you he knew exactly what to give me," He kneels to put the heels on, perfect fit, "Only the best for my princess," You gave him a big kiss on the lips as a thank you, but it turned deeper, sexier, and erotic, it caused him shivers, "Still in the mood?"

"Always for you, daddy"

A/N hope you didn't miss me much, sorry for not updating in a while, i wanted to say sorry beforehand as well, i won't be updating as much as i did before :(( some serious family business happened recently, i'm ok tho! i can't focus a lot of me rn, i have bigger responsibilities to take care of, but i won't be gone forever, this isn't the last you will hear of me any time soon, just sit tight ladies i'll be coming back soon. i love you and thank you for the comments and support!

note to anonymous: hope you didn't mind i changed things up a little, enjoy thank you for the request and reading!

  ∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡ I love you

[chronicpain-itsastruggle]

Third surgery of the year went rocky yesterday. I have cried a lot in the last 48 hours. My mom and husband came with me and my mom was able to stay with all the way up to laying down for surgery bc babe had a therapy appointment i wanted him to go to and he agreed. My nurse was so nice and sweet but she tried and failed once to get my IV in. Then the anesthesiologist came in and was a very quiet man. And he sat and picked and prodded at my right hand for about 30 minutes. He tried twice with a lidocaine shot each time before he finally got an iv placed on the inside of my right wrist the third try, also with a lidocaine shot first. I sobbed the whole time. I barely remember walking to the surgery room and laying on the table. Then i woke up holding my moms hand so confused and then in 10/10 pain in my left arm where they took more of my arm out. I screamed and sobbed in pain. I asked Mom “where is Tyler?? Where is babe?!” I didnt even open my eyes i was crying in so much pain. My mom told me they couldnt reach him and i sobbed even harder, terrified. Tyler walked in abt 3 minutes later. His phone wasnt getting calls and he literally sped from home when he saw the voicemail notification. They held my hands as the nurses pushed a bit more pain and anxiety meds and i sobbed in pain. It took a while to get me to Tyler’s truck. I puked twice before i got home, revisiting the apple juice i had tried right after waking up and coming to. Once home i slept a lot on the couch. In and out of consciousness. Tyler stress cleaned our kitchen building our new shelf for our pantry and even selling our dog crate we’ve been needing to sell. So he was very productive awesomely while i was in and out of sleepy town.

Our dog Jupiter, his timing impeccable as always, had diarrhea and pukey all night so we were up every twoish hours having Tyler take him outside again and again. I woke up each time but had to stay on the couch. It was a very rough night.

Today has been the day after surgery and the pain has been so severe. I am staying on top of my pain meds. And thankfully i have been able to eat and drink just fine. The pain is just incredible and severe. We had to take the bandage off and clean it tonight and i sobbed thru the whole thing in agony. Tyler was so patient and gentle with me. I was so brave and its rewrapped and I’m back on the couch calming down while i write this. Im exhausted and it hurts and im so glad i gave myself a month before i go back to work because this is going to be a long recovery.

If anyone is so inclined or wants to: my cashapp and venmo is @ earnham and literally anything will help. I am having to spend so much on medical supplies and dont know when my fmla will actually go thru. Im also going to link my amazon wishlist eventually with a bunch of melanoma gear for this summer but that will be closer to my bday in June bc thats what ima be asking for this year, is help with anything on my wishlist.

This isnt the point of the post i rly just needed to vent my past 48 hours. Thanks for reading if u did.

[pisboy]

Continuing from my read more posted last night: my cat Tib went missing thru a door that got unexpectedly opened while I was on vacation and had been open for at least 2 days before someone noticed. so i had to drive myself back home to help search for him. The only saving grace in this scenario is that my other cat Lili was nearby when it was discovered the door was ajar so she is in the house and doing fine

Barely slept at all and the minutes still drag on like hours

I was already running on fumes but I feel despondent. I'm literally surrounded by orchards and farm style properties so it feels impossible to do a thorough search but I can't help but circle and wander calling for him.

He's quite skittish so chances are he's been hiding but it's been 3 days now and it's hot and if he's still alive and not eaten by coyotes I'm worried he'd be in rough condition to make it back

All suggestions online say they're more likely to leave their hiding place when it's dark but I don't know what else to do right now. I can't sleep because my brain is rushing and my gut has been unendingly nauseous since yesterday so I can barely eat either.

We've just posted signs so part of it is a waiting game. After people start getting off work I'm gonna knock on doors and ask if I can look under people's decks and stuff.

I don't know man

I haven't even cried yet. I feel so numb like I'm in a living nightmare.

Tib is the love of my life. Like I can't overstate how much he means to me. I feel like an evil shithead entertaining thoughts on how proportionally relieved I would be if he was here and Lili was the one missing.

But if something killed him I need closure. It feels quite fucked. Every minute that passes feels like I'm wasting it. This isn't the first time the cats have gotten out but it has by far been the longest.

In fact, the last time it happened I was home but didn't latch my stupid door and it was open all night, but in spite of that I got woken up by Tib walking on me, who had returned in the house just to cuddle.

Nevermind now I'm sobbing. Fuck. I miss my funny man.

[gracie4]

COLD

Lando norris × reader

TW: suicide

CHAPTER 1

Y/n pov

Cold

that's all I feel on this Monday morning 08:27 am to be exact. Is today the day I finnaly give up? I ask myself. This I ask myself many times a day like when I need to wake up.

"Good morning Monaco" I say loud but not too loud so that people could actually hear."I welcome you to my death. Some would say it's tragic, while others would say that it's a deserved suicide. I say that it's an amazing story that would be told for many years to come." I wonder if this would actually be historic and if someone is recording me,or if someone's security camera caught me. Maybe tommorow I'll be famous for this suicide.

" Anyway I don't want to bore you with my sad sob story's, so I'll get on with it. " As I spread my arms ready to jump into the water, my whatch starts beeping. I look at it. It's the alarm I set to get ready for today's qualifying interviews. Why must I always get ready so early?. I think to myself.

I walk back to the road where I was having my morning run. I start running again. After a few minutes my lungs start to burn. The burning clears my head. I focus on the sound of my running shoes hitting the road.

~~~~

Arriving at the paddock is usually calm, but not this weekend. We are in Monaco so the paddock is flooded with f1 journalist, like myself, photographers and so on. I walk towards the sky news employes preparing for any sort of conversation.

I walk up to Natalie as we have a good bond. Not only in interviews but in our personal life's to. "Hey nat" I say opening my arms for a hug. She accept's my hug and replies "Hey Y/n ready for all the interviews and such today?"."Always" I  say pulling out of the hug. "Do you have any idea where. I can get some coffee?" I ask desperately. "I think at one of the team's hospitality's. Maybe,try Mclaren." Natalie answers "Thanks Nat." I reply quickly making my way to Mclaren's hospitality center.

As I enter I'm greeted with the smell of some coffee and a few people's deodorant and perfumes. I walk towards the coffee machine and push the button which says espresso. "Hey Y/n the new sky journalist right? " someone speaks behind me. I turn around to see Lando norris. "Uh yeah and you must be Lando." I say smiling "Yeah, you interviewed me at the previous race I think. Correct me if I'm wrong." he says to me with an 'I hope I'm right face'. "Yeah that was me" I reply.

"I saw you this morning on my run." He says. This sends a shock of panic thru my my body. What if he saw me? What if he heard my little speech?

"Oh were you on a run aswell this morning?" I try to play the panic off. "Yeah, I saw you at the corner of the back side of the casino" he says immediately letting me relax as that's a good few minutes after my little moment "Sorry i didn't realize you were running behind me, I was sort of in the zone" he shakes his head "no no, it's okay I had my airpods in anyway so" I stand there awkwardly not really knowing what to say, thankfully the coffee machine stops and I grab my coffee cup. "Well I'm sorry I have to go, interviews and media but maybe we can talk later" I suggest.

"Yeah that would be fun, well see you around y/n"He walks off. holy shit! I think to myself did I just make a suggestion for another awkward conversation?

Writers note

Hey guys this is my first story on any platform, any tips or criticism is allowed and I hope you liked the first short but hopefully good chapter. I'm gonna try to be like very consistent but I can't make any promises. Anyways hope you have an awesome sauce day or night Xx

[godotdotdot]

I watched the end of evangelion in theaters last night. The last time I watched EoE was a near spiritual exp; I had been going thru a lot at home and needed catharsis, because I was personally grieving a lot of close relationships that had been hurting me, and could not stop feeling shitty for how I hurt my loved ones.

While that evening I had had the entirety of Eva fresh in my mind, and had sobbed accordingly to my heightened understanding and empathic ability, last night I did not. I had not prepared by rewatching the series or Death and Rebirth. It was a last minute chance that I took. I felt I had not "done" the experience properly.

I noticed so many details I hadn't before, thanks to the big screen: the name KAWORU printed on the EVA Series' S2 drives; how fitting it is that Kaworu (the ideal Shinji, the replacement for Asuka, the parallel of Rei) eviscerates Asuka. I also realised why Asuka has the bandage on her arm in the last scene, because her arm... ripped in two... and how insane is it, the arm that is iconically extended with "I'll kill you, I'll kill you" to be the same hand that reaches forward, as she's dying, to cup Shinji's cheek as he strangles her. I saw my favorite character, Rei, commit her revolt against Gendo. I absorbed everything on screen with greater clarity than I ever had before. The big screen magnified the details, the emotions, everything; and I realised with satisfaction that I was watching the movie the way it was supposed to be watched.

And as such, I think the most significant moment was in the actual theater itself. The scene in the film where they're in instrumentality and talking about dreams vs reality, and they pan to the irl audience of one of the first screenings of eoe? It hits different when YOU are in the theater. It's YOU on screen. I remember feeling like an individual and not at the same time. I realised that everyone in the movie theater was there for the same reason as me: for virtue of being human, having a deep connection w the series like me, having their own reconciling with the awe of seeing it in theaters; after all, all the young kids had streamed this movie on the phone like me, and all the older fellows had not been to an Eva screening in North America. We WERE the first audience seeing the movie, just like in the film; we had all gathered here with our rei plushies and our t-shirts and our cosplays like the audience in 1997. But would we be sitting there confused, like that initial audience was?

As it was, there is no sense of confusion in as an eva fan, not after the End. As the film ended, Shinji crying, Asuka still, Disgusting, and then the end card, there was a full 15 seconds of silence as the lights slowly came on. No clapping. No discussion. No laughter or sniffling or breath. The lights came on, and still, I was silent; I was both praying no one would break the silence as I needed it and observed it. I was completely processing the gravity of being the first (N. American) audience (ever!) since the show aired nearly thirty years ago; and with that weight, how SHOULD you react? And then, the silence broke as I heard people take shaky exhales like they had been crying, chuckling nervously, and then more comfortably laughing to their groups, beginning lore explanations--- someone had a beer snuck into the theater that I only noticed when I looked in front of me--- and everyone re-became themselves, imdividuals with lives and problems and things to be excited over. A couple was still crying and were not holding hands. I saw them outside, twenty minutes later, smiling and taking pictures with the poster.

It seemed strange to me that Eva had become such an emotional thing to such a crowd of people. I didn't realise that I was not the only one who cried tears of horror, who cried tears of disgust, who cried tears of sorrow. I had been excited to go to this movie and was left feeling... normal. It was life-changing, but also, not. I was just a person in a theater, and yet, I understood the movie because I had studied it. And so had everyone else, and we were still crying. At the same time, having reflected on my more private viewings, I still thought I hadn't cried enough.

I think to the things Hideako Anno has said about eva; how it's him on screen, his disdain for certain kinds of anime fans, his passing interest in things that people hyperanalyze. I think about the dedication he notes to his team of workers and five women in his life. Who are those five women? What kind of women are they? Why that descriptor, if you're separating them from your work?

I think the most appropriate explanation for my absurd reactions to the film are because the film itself is an absurd experience; I'm trying to assign it an aura (a la "art in the age of mechanical reproduction") but frankly, I believe it is impossible. Perhaps my theater wasn't right. Perhaps my company wasn't. Perhaps I was not. Perhaps the film was not. And most of all, perhaps it was okay for me to be there, because I wanted to be there, and I wanted to go on.

It was a really beautiful experience. The movie is absolutely meant to be played on a big screen, in a theater. I'm so glad I was there, and I'm so glad I got to be apart of eva history. It was not the perfect exp I wanted, but it was such a special occasion that I don't mind too much. One day I will keep going and maybe I will make that experience perfect for myself.

[tealseer]

Hello, I was scrolling through your tags (hope you don't mind) and I noticed you like the tangled climax a lot... honestly same. There's just something about it that I can't put into words. Anyways just wondering if you noticed some things that I didn't, I'm always looking for new details (is that weird? That's probably weird) and have a stellar day! I love your art BTW ❤

Yesss anon tell me all about details during the climax of tangled I think about it literally every couple of weeks if not days. I have a whole post drafted about the timeline of events after see the light because ???? Everything til that point is easily tracked but then either rapz and gothel walk all night to get back to the tower or they set up camp for the night that we don't see which makes more sense that they walk all day and gothel makes the supper comment THEREFORE Eugene spends all night and all day in the jail cell and rides thru the night to get to the tower THEREFORE rapz spends a full night in chains for Eugene to get there at dawn. Is my thought process. So there's like a rapid fire 48 hrs in the last 20 min when the first three acts take place over a really well paced two days. But ya ty anon i think about how I my first viewing in theaters as a twelve yr old was just Perfect and I wish I could watch it for the first time again bc we got to the theater two minutes late and I missed "this is the story of how I died" I got there at "once upon a time" so lil me genuinely thought omg Eugene is gone for good what will she do she's all alone and it was SUSPENSEFUL I had no idea what to expect and it was not for the main character to cradle the love interest and sob as he died in her arms on screen something changed in me that night

[skitskatdacat63]

Hiii CATIE!!!!! HIII

Im pretty pretty sure people have already asked BUT HOW WAS ATTENDING THE US GP LIVE!!!! WAS???? TELL ME!! DO YOU HAVE PICS??? I know I know im late.

I ALSO HOPE YOU GOT HOME SAFE AND SOUND AND THAT YOU ARE RESTING NOW+!!!(I saw the chaos you went through im deeply sorry for you :( )

ANYWAYS HOW WAS THE RACE? HOW WAS EXPERIENCING STROLLONSO LIVE?????? AND omg did you get pics of drivers??? :00

You must must share pleaseeeeee.wax.poet

OH MY GOD ELLE SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! IT WAS VERY COOL!!!!! VERY SURREAL!!!!!! I've taken a week to answer this but uhhhh yes I am in fact home now 🥰 I got home at like 1 am which was cool....

First of all I have to mention this! I was fighting for my life walking thru the Austin airport(from sleep deprivation), and I had my Fernando hat on my backpack, right? Some girl comes up to me and asks if I'm going to the GP, I say yes. SHE GAVE ME A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET, I COULD'VE SOBBED 🥹 It says on it "wtf is a km", I'm still so happy

COTA was the first race I ever watched, so to be actually at that track and watch a race live there was extremely surreal! Very hot though my god 😵‍💫 I think last year it was pretty hot, right? And my brother kept sending me the temp and it was pretty okay, and then of fucking course the temp leaps up to 89-97°(31-36° Celsius btw) right in time for the gp....so that was nice(I say as I burn in the sun like a vampire. But don't worry I didn't even really tan at all 😭 I always wore a hat and a lot of sunscreen. And meanwhile my brother was literally a lobster)

(This is a long post):

So unfortunately I missed the drivers parade because my brother and I were dying on Saturday night and his friends wanted to go first thing in the morning, and we're like "we will go later actually 😊" and missed it entirely 😭😭😭 but his friends took pics of Mclaren and Aston for me!!!!! But unfortunately I havent gotten them still, so I'll have to reblog this later with those! I took a lot of pictures of the cars I took from behind the fence, which I think I've posted some of? Lmk if anyone wants those!! They're very random, I just thought it was very surreal to see the cars flying past, so I took a million.

The coolest part was definitely running on track after the race was over!!! Soooooo surreal, and so I'm only gonna post pics rn from Sunday(bcs pic limit on phone) and also I think everything else kinda pales in comparison(but of course lmk if there's anything you're interested in seeing 🤭)

Okay and did I see any drivers...? ONLY ONE BUT AAAAHHHH I DID SEE LANDO!!! Not even one of my favs but it was soooooo surreal to see him, even from afar. As you can see above, everyone standing on the fences was blocking the view 🙄, but during the podium, I was focusing my camera btwn their legs and got literally one second of Lando 😭 I think its a pretty aesthetic clip, so I gifed it!!

It was so funny, I went to the gp with my brother and friends, so all these older guys yeah. And I was showing this off to them on the ride home, and his one friend was praising me so much for it 😭😭 like: "oh my god!!!! You could put this in an edit !!! This is so sick!!!!"

Oh one other thing!!! I think I've mentioned it before but my god, my favorite f1 podiums are always the ones with confetti, right?? AND THERE WAS CONFETTI AT THIS RACE!!!

LOOK AT HOW PRETTYYYYY!!!! And so anyways, I picked up so much confetti off the ground and now it lives forever in my phone case 🥰🥰🥰 I have no other room for pics on this post(for now) but oh my godddddddddd most of the confetti were just rectangles BUT THERE WAS ALSO ONES SHAPED LIKE TEXAS!!! SO COOL!!!!! And I also picked up a bunch of tire marbles off the ground!!! And a piece of plastic that probably came off some car. It was so funny when all of us were just scrounging off the ground. My bro's one friend somehow found a piece of carbon fiber, and we're all like "how can I kill him in his sleep and steal this from him..." But no the highlight actually of that process was watching my brother sprint to the podium, but stopping and grabbing a bunch of gravel first to shove in his pocket 😭😭😭

The other two days were fun as well, but also a lot of just dying in the heat and drinking a fuckton of red bull, so there's not too much specifically to say! I really liked hearing the cars. I think if you wanna know what's actually going on in a race, watching from home is better, but hearing the cars go by and seeing them is just so fucking sick. It was so funny to see grown men be like "I think I'm going to cry hearing these cars." I was really flexing on them with "uhhh yeah I've already been to a gp already 🙄🙄"

Anyways I ended the day by breaking bank by buying my dad and myself Fernando shirts because he is of course Fernando's biggest fan 🥰🥰 and I bought the most delicious overpriced lemonade, which I only drank half of bcs my brother proceeded to accidentally elbow it out of my hand....

OH WAIT ONE MORE DETAIL LOL. On Friday, my brother and his friend were waiting in line for smth and I was talking to them outside of the barrier. I look down, hmm theres a red cap abandoned on the ground, I pick it up, it is in fact a Ferrari hat. And that is how my brother acquired a $40+ dollar hat for free. Lucky bastard....I was the who found it!

[augentrust]

hi i just spent the past two hours literally sobbing while reading your cr fics and like i am not someone who usually cries at shit like this but holy fuck did those — esp the jester one — just hit me where i live in the most absolutely wrecking way. so yeah thanks for completely monopolizing this night i needed to use for Productive Things and instead leaving me unexpectedly weeping until my head hurts bc my god was A Wisdom Without Face or Name one of the most quietly devastating things i’ve read in a long time (not that quietly, considering i was sobbing the whole way thru, but still). you just, like, opened floodgates i didn’t even know i had w that one. christ

ANYWAYS! you write the nein beautifully (and i am very picky about my nein, especially my caleb, and he’s written so well in both!). do you have any recs for other good fics to look out for — either m9 in general or shadowgast specific? not necessarily emotionally destroying ones LMAO, just any in general; you write them so well that i definitely trust your taste!! thank u again for ur (devastating) contributions to cr literature they have not gone unappreciated

anon i am handing you tissues and a warm beverage of your choice. thank you for the kind words, and i hope the cry was a cathartic one  

i read fairly widely when it comes to critical role, but i’ll leave a few recommendations below the cut of fics that influenced how i thought about the nein — and shadowgast in particular — back when i was starting out. my writing today wouldn't be the same without them

“memory in double exposure” by hanap

this is the fic i look to when i think of jester and essek — it honors her depth in a way that i really fell in love with, and i come back to it often

“the other things that make us” by saturdaysky

one of my first shadowgast cornerstones. it does a remarkable job of exploring what is left unsaid, and certain scenes still make my heart drop (in the best way) even after many, many rereads 

“remote times and places and ultimate causes” by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi)

this is the shadowgast dynamic to me personally. the fact that it transposes so well to another universe is a testament to their characterizations, and i adore it a little more every time i come back to it

“Hard Mouth” by road_rhythm

an angst heavyweight for shadowgast, and a fic i still look towards for an incredible example of blending story and dnd mechanics 

“only code it knows is rote survival” by Chrome

such a well-written look into essek and the nein, and a wonderful exploration of love and caution and trust and the way that all of these intersect

“hold me down, hold me true” by lakrisrot (enheduane)

a really lovely subversion of expectation, and the careful exploration of letting yourself want things. i reflect on the conversations in this fic often, and it still influences how i think the wizards talk about love 

this hardly scratches the surface of the many wonderful fics i’ve had the pleasure of reading in this fandom, but i hope it can point you in the direction of something you haven’t read before, or at least inspire a reread. have a wonderful day/night, anon!