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#removing anonymous asks in the mean time
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i'm getting real tired for being joked for being chubby it's not funny anymore as much as i try to be aware that its just a joke
never in my life have i ever cared to be insecure about my body. like the complete entirety of my body. i literally never gave a flying FUCK about it because im really content with how i look. im honestly so happy with how i look.
yeah. i've been eating a lot more lately, but that's because...? i'm just eating? i genuinely dont understand
im not gonna mention who is this person but they always talk about how i'd look plumpy (initally saying it's the good kind of plump because i used to be super skinny and pale) which meant i ate healthy
but recently its now becoming a joke that i'm. just fucking fat. like. funny looking. just hilarious to look at.at first i didnt give a shit because????? it's not severe? im actually so bothered and mad right now because i literally cannot see where's the issue? im actually struggling to come up with words right now because im so mad and irriitated
the turning point that started me to go complain here was because i was drawing. i was drawing a character. the person immediately assumed its me because of the green outfit (they'd be right). i gave them an outfit that would make it "bloat" at the bottom because the dress is big and they immediately walk up to me like. "oh is she pregnant? why does she look so big? shes you, right? becayse of that big stomach."
usually. i'd laugh and say something else. but. but the factthey commented about my art which is supposed to be a posititve projection ofme and make fun of me of it- i couldnt laugh. i didnt want to laugh this time. i swiped them away from me (they were physically playing with me) and told them to stop joking about it, and that it wasnt funny
they walked away saying nothing. im so upset right now. fucking tears coming out , i should not be crying about this dumb shit but here we are
i always loved seeing peoples' inserts appearing plump and plus sized, because i always feel so happy for them for being honest about how they look. but here i am. feeling like shit about MY OWN appearance. i always love cropped top sleeves and anything similar to it. but now it's making me feel ugly for even wanting to wear it.
i dont like venting here. i hate ruinung the vibes of my blog. but this popped a vein in me so bad that i need to complain about it.
sorry. thank you for reading allthe way if you did.
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paganinpurple · 2 years
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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aegonstradwife · 2 months
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exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader
summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.
warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)
a. note:link to the original request.
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As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.
But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.
You are terrified of him.
Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.
He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.
Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.
But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.
And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.
Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.
Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.
"Come. Sit with me."
In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.
In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....
Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.
You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.
This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.
"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."
Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.
Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.
But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.
Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.
He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.
You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.
"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.
"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"
You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.
"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."
Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.
"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.
For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."
Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.
"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."
"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"
Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."
At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.
"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"
Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.
"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."
You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"
Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.
"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."
"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"
Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.
"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."
"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."
Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.
"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."
You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"
For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.
"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."
"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"
Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.
"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"
You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.
"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."
Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.
"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"
“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”
He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”
"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."
Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.
“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”
"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"
Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.
"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”
Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.
You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.
"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"
Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.
“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”
You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.
"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.
As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.
He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”
You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.
Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"
His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.
“You may.”
With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.
"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"
Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.
He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.
"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."
You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.
Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"
But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."
"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.
"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."
His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."
You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.
"Do not apologize."
His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.
"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"
You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.
Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.
"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"
Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.
"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"
Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.
Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.
"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.
You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.
"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"
Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.
"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."
"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."
A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."
Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.
"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."
Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.
"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.
At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.
"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.
Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?
Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"
In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.
He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."
He looks down at you again.
"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."
If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?
"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"
Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.
He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.
"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."
The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.
"And you? Who was your first time with?"
As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.
He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.
Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."
Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.
"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"
"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"
Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.
"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"
"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.
Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.
"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."
"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"
Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.
"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."
You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."
You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"
Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.
"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.
You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"
Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.
He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.
His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.
"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."
He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."
Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.
"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.
Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....
Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?
"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."
Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.
He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."
He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."
Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."
Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.
He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."
"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."
He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."
You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"
Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.
Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"
You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"
Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.
"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."
The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"
You don't know much, but you do know that.
He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.
"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.
"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.
You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"
He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"
You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."
He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."
Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.
But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....
You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."
Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.
"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"
"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"
This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.
He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."
Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.
As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.
Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.
Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.
"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.
Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.
You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."
He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.
He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."
"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"
Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.
"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."
You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.
"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.
Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.
The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.
"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"
You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.
Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.
He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."
Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.
The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"
Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.
"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."
With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.
You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.
He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.
You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.
This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.
"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"
His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.
When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."
A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.
Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.
Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.
His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."
"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."
He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"
You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."
At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.
His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"
With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.
Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.
As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."
That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"
His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."
He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.
"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."
Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.
"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.
Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.
Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.
As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.
He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.
A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.
"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."
One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.
With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."
Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."
You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.
Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.
"Shit, sorry."
Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."
He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"
A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.
"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.
Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."
He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.
With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.
"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."
Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."
He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."
He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.
"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."
Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."
Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"
You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."
Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.
He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.
"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."
Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.
The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.
He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.
"Aemond...."
A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.
"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.
With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.
"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.
Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.
"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."
"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.
His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"
You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."
Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.
"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."
The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"
"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."
You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"
"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."
Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."
Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.
He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"
"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."
You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"
Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.
By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.
But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.
"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."
"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."
You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."
Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."
He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."
"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."
You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"
Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.
"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."
Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"
You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?
"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."
His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"
"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"
Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."
"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."
Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."
Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"
This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.
Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.
He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."
You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."
Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."
He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.
There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.
His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.
Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."
Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.
"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"
You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.
"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"
"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."
"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.
Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."
You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."
The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.
"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."
And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.
All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.
"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.
He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.
"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."
You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."
There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.
Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.
He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.
Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.
"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.
Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.
He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."
You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"
Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.
He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."
Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.
Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.
"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.
"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."
Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."
Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.
"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."
Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.
"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"
Aemond sighs.
"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."
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qqueenofhades · 2 months
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I got political whiplash on Threads. First, everyone was screaming, “All is lost!” I came back an hour later, and everyone was screaming, “We Ride at Dawn!”
The right-wingers are in panic mode. Steven Miller was practically screaming on Feckless news. 🤣
I mean. The right-wingers' entire mentality, the fuel for the January 6 attempted coup, the recent SCOTUS President God-King Immunity ruling, and all the rest, is premised on the simple fact that the president is indeed, Almighty God King who serves for life and will never, ever willingly give up his power. So that's how I can guarantee that the GOP, because they are short-sighted fascist morons, did not plan for this. Their entire strategy was built around attacking Biden, because they hate him. Like, really hate him. He defeated Trump the first time and there was still a good chance that he could do it again. Trump got impeached the first time for trying to extort Zelenskyy for dirt on Biden, because he didn't want to face him. That's why they went after Hunter on largely bogus charges, tossed around the idea of impeaching Biden, actually (uselessly) impeached Mayorkas, etc.
And yet, because Biden (even if he was forced to do it) decided to step away and voluntarily give up his presidential power instead of wrecking American democracy to hold onto it, that has broken their little shriveled fascist brains. They literally can't comprehend it, and I can guarantee they're now shit scared about having to face Kamala, a brown woman, who is the epitome of everything their tiny evil brains hate. As noted by those bangin' fundraising numbers, there is also a lot of excitement around her. And suddenly, after MONTHS of "this election is a referendum on which old and mentally declining man you hate more," that has been removed as a factor. (Watch the media suddenly forget all about age and/or mental competency as a factor now that Biden is out. Does it apply to Trump, you ask? CRICKETS.)
Kamala is going to mop the f'n floor with Trump at the next presidential debate, and I guarantee that the GOP knows that too. Because yes, if Biden had another bad debate, or if he has a bad case of COVID that might end up giving him long-covid symptoms or keeping him off the trail for days or weeks, that would have been very, very hard to recover from. Now the GOP is the one stuck with an old, mentally baffled, virulently hated presidential candidate and the most pro-Russia, anti-woman, demonstrable-sellout whitebread VP pick imaginable, that they had to choose because Trump nearly got the last one killed and he wasn't interested in the job again, for some weird reason. And as we have pointed out before, this is the last-chance saloon for Trump in any number of ways, and he has been demonstrably overconfident the last few weeks as the media was consumed with discussion of Biden's stumbles rather than Trump's manifold unfitness, treason, felonies, and all the rest.
I don't agree with Biden on everything he has ever done in his long career in public service, but I will say that I don't think he would have actually done this if he wasn't eventually convinced, for whatever reason that might be, that it was the right decision. And my one big fear about him stepping down was that the party would instantly fracture, people would start flogging unrealistic Magical White Boy replacements, and otherwise insist on an "open mini-primary!" or some other fucking bullshit. Now, there are still a few idiots trying that, but by and large, the Democratic power apparatus has instantly thrown its weight behind Kamala. That doesn't excuse them for the weeks of wibbling Anonymous Sources self-sabotage beforehand, and I still vote that we destroy the billionaires at our next opportunity, but if we can stick with that and keep up those mongo fundraising numbers, we might indeed actually have a better chance than before, and that was what this was all about.
As I noted yesterday, Black women have been disproportionately influential in taking Trump down (think Leticia James, Fani Willis, etc) and there is undoubtedly a huge, HUGE amount of poetic justice if Kamala can be the one to stick the knife in his greasy orange gut once and for all. I can likewise guarantee the GOP is well aware of that, and the fact that while they can yell even louder and trot out the same old racist, sexist, misogynist fearmongering dirtbag attacks they used on HRC, that is a strategy with demonstrably diminishing returns (it sure as hell isn't going to help them win any more female or suburban or black voters or anyone else we always hear about how they're Making Inroads with). And we're not going to talk about how it's Obvious that America would never elect a black female president. Obama won two terms. Even with all that weight of frothing misogyny and DECADES of Republican smear machines, HRC won the popular vote and was ratfucked out of the Electoral College by the slimmest of margins, after a massive interference campaign by the Russians. It is fucking possible, we are going to do it, and the Republicans are so, SO FUCKING SCARED of having to live in an America run by a brown woman, that can only be for the good.
Kamala Harris 2024. Let's go.
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Text
Objects in Motion
Part 2
Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader
Part 1 here
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You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.
Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.
.
You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.
You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.
After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.
William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.
This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.
He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.
So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.
The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.
Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing.  Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?
It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.
None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted. 
The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.
You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.
Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.
.
Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.
“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”
You smile in delight.
“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.
“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”
You nod, enthusiastically.
“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.
.
Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness. 
It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.
Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.
He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.
Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.
He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.
At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.
Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.
He wanted his omega.
It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.
He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.
He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.
He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.
One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale. 
He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.
Surely not-
He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.
When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.
.
He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.
Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?
Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.
He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.
“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”
Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.
It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.
.
When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.
It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.
You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.
When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.
To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.
When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen. 
Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air. 
Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?
You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.
Cracked pepper, citrus- 
The alpha was here.
Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.
There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.
Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.
But you were fucked.
Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.
Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.
His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.
“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.
You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.
You run.
Well, not exactly.
More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.
You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.
You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you? 
No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat. 
Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.
You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.
So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone. 
There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.
You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.
It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.
You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.
And you walk right into him.
You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.
You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.
“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.
You whine in distress.
“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.
“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”
His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.
“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.
He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.
“Omega.” He says meaningfully.
The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.
“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”
You make a little sniffle.
“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.
The corner of his mouth curves up.
“No, I just want to talk.” 
“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.
His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.
“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”
You gulp.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”
You take a deep breath, eyes widening.
“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”
He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.
“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”
You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.
You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks. 
“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation. 
“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”
You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.
You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.
You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.
You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.
“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.
Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.
“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.
He lets out a slow breath.
“Lunch is great. Where?”
You think for a moment.
“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”
He inclines his head.
“Sandwiches are great.”
You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.
“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”
He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.
You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.
“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”
Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.
“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”
He nods in understanding.
“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”
“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.
“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”
You offer a sad smile.
“That's what they all say.”
.
He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.
He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home. 
Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters. 
Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.
He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.
He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.
Thank you. Sweet dreams
.
.
.
A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.
Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅
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hideawaysis · 6 months
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hello. absolutely hate involving myself in fandom drama, but ifeel this is an important post to make as i have seen a lot of people taking a certain post at face value and believing it.
im referring to this one, made by @/realultimatehater
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now, before i say these things, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i do not personally wish to align myself in this fandom debate. i am a tax-paying adult and do not have any energy or time to put into arguing about a tv show on the internet. nonetheless, i have seen people blindly spreading this post around and i feel this needs to be addressed.
this person is lying.
it feels like it should be obvious with the levels of "down with cis bus" energy pulsating off of this, but it's a huge fucking lie.
this person is a known harasser and has targeted children in the past. they will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to rack up attention and internet points. they have made bold claims like this with little to no evidence in the past all so they can garner more hatred for certain fandoms on the internet. testimonies here and here, and some pretty damning screenshots here.
i advise you all to stop reblogging the post ive shown. it's disinformation, a story fabricated to direct more vitriol towards a fandom with little to no proof that it can somehow make people like this or attract people like this. this person is either a troll or just plain deranged. please stop believing what they say.
tags added for reach.
edit: i received an anonymous ask giving me extra information on this topic, apparently this person is in fact an internet troll who has gone under countless aliases and will often fake identities in order to ruin the reputations of others. more information here and here.
edit 2: another anon ask gave me a preserved version of a post from realultimatehater's first account, showing how they'd crop screenshots of dms in order to make it look like they were being harassed for simply having a negative opinion on hazbin hotel. here's the post, though do know the reblog is from a supporter of them, make of that what you will. here's another version of the post ifound showing how they'd bait people into saying these kinds of things in order to make them look bad. and here's another one! wow!
i also found a few asks showing how this person would literally approach hazbin fans and just blatantly insult them, rather than blocking them. because yeah, when you detest a fandom, you clearly must stir up conflict! that'll keep them away from you! said asks can be viewed here and here
edit 3: the anon i received telling me realultimatehater was an internet troll who'd been trolling people for years apparently was not being truthful, this does not discredit the other evidence ive listed but id really appreciate if people would stop spreading that ask around. ive removed the link to the ask, sincere apologies to anyone affected by that
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bellarkeselection · 9 months
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Halstead’s Favorite Duo
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Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.
My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.
The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.
Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.
“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”
He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”
“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.
Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.
“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.
Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.
Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”
“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.
Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”
“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.
He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”
“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.
Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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More Lucifer x f!reader stuff!
I was sent an anonymous prompt for more Lucifer x reader and I got a little done! This will more than likely contain more NSFW later, but this snippet doesn't have any so no active warnings!
You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.
Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.
"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."
"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."
Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."
"O-Ok," you stuttered.
"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.
You shook your head. "No."
"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"
You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.
"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.
Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes hotter. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth has never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.
"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.
"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.
Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."
"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.
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twice-inamillion · 3 months
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The Company 
Teasing Bunny Nayeon
Smut (Self-sacrifice, fingering, teasing, squirting, orgasm)
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Chapter 13
1430 Words 
(Nayeon finds out your role in her personal affairs. To show her appreciation she decides to offer her body, but things don’t go according to plans.)
It’s been a few weeks since the incident with Nayeon’s former stepdad, and everything has been well. There haven't been any issues from your end, and you even took care of their outstanding debts, obviously anonymously. 
You head back to your apartment when you hear someone call your name, “Oppa!” From afar, you see Nayeon returning from the other side of campus. 
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay, let’s go to a cafe.”
“It’s personal.”
Thinking of a good place, you say, “There’s a study lounge a few floors down from my apartment. We can go there.” 
“That’d be great.”
You lead Nayeon to the elevator and press the button to where the study lounge is. “I heard from my mom that someone paid all our debt a few weeks back.” 
“That’s great news.” 
“That was you, huh.” 
“What do you mean?”
“It was you who paid my family’s debt off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know it was you, Oppa. No one else knew of our debt besides my family.” 
“Okay, it was me.” 
Nayeon hugs you, “Oppa, thank you so much; I’ll repay you no matter what.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, let me repay you.”
There’s no response; Nayeon, standing next to you, tugs on the edge of your shirt. She glides her hand against your pelvis, touching your limp cock, and ask, “What are you doing, Nayeon?”
“I want to repay you.”
“No, you’re good. There is no need.” 
“I can’t pay you monetary, but I can offer you my body instead,” as she rubs your cock through your pants.
“Nayeon, you don’t have to.”
“I don’t want to be indebted to you; please let me pay you like this,” as Nayeon puts her head onto your chest, still gliding her hand on your limp cock. “I want to show you my appreciation.
The elevator door slides open; you scan your keycard and press the button for your floor, causing the door to close. You place your hand on Nayeon’s butt and give it a nice squeeze which makes her smile. 
The elevator opens, and you walk with Nayeon, who is still attached to your side. She watches you open your door and walks in, now realizing what's going to happen. 
“You have a nice apartment. Should we get started?”
”Are you that in a rush?”
”No, it's just that I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know what to do.”
”Oh, so it’s going to be your first time?”
Startled by the question, she shyly says, “Yes,” turning completely red from embarrassment.
”Let’s make this a special night to remember,” as you give her a gentle smile. You want her to feel comfortable with you and be open to what you’re about to propose. 
“Okay, what should we do?”
”I want you to strip.”
”Ehh?”
Strip.”
Nayeon is surprised by your boldness but slightly turned on. Embarrassed, she watches as you sit on your couch while she stands in front of you. She crosses her arms, removes her blouse, and reveals her black bra. Next is her pants, and she takes those off, one leg at a time. 
“Wow, you have a nice body.” 
Nayeon can’t help but smile at your compliment, “Thanks, I try to take care of myself.” 
“Alright, now the rest.” 
She reaches her left bra strap with her right hand, slides it down, and switches to the next. She undoes the back of her bra and, releases it, and lets it drop on the floor. Nayeon crosses her arms and covers her breasts from embarrassment. 
“Don’t forget about your panties,” as you give her a warm smile.
Nayeon uses her hand to cover both her breasts as she moves the other to pull down on her panties. 
“Move your hand off your chest.”
She nods, moves her hand, and uses it to balance herself as she removes her panties. 
You see Nayeon cover her privates, embarrassed of being seen completely nude for the first time. “I won’t ask you again; move your hands away.”
With some hesitation, she moves her hands, placing them to her side as she reveals her small breast and tight cunt with a slight bush. 
“It’s cute.” 
Nayeon turns red from embarrassment and closes her eyes, “Don’t say it’s cute; that’s embarrassing.” 
You pull out your phone and say, “Look towards me.” Nayeon opens her eyes and sees your camera flash go off.” 
“You’re taking pictures?” 
“Your body is just too amazing not to take a picture.”
Enjoying the compliment, she says, “Alright, just don’t show it to anyone.” 
“Of course not.” 
“Want me to pose?”
“Press your tits together.” 
She presses her breasts together and bends slightly, allowing you a good view. You snap multiple pictures and see Nayeon enjoying the attention with each one.” 
“Turn around and spread your cheeks for me, will ya.” 
Nayeon turns and bends slightly, placing each hand on each cheek. With a firm hold, she spread her cheeks, allowing you to see both her tightly pucker hole and part of her cunt.”
“Fuck, what a beautiful ass you have,” and snap a set of pictures. You lick your thumb and press it against her cunt, causing her to moan. You switch your attention to her pucker hole, “wait, what are you doing?”
“I just want to see how tight it is.” 
“I’ve never put anything inside; that’s weird.” 
You can’t help but chuckle at her innocence, knowing she won’t stay so innocent for much longer.
“Alright, come here and take a seat,” patting the area next to you. Nayeon walks towards the couch and sits next to you, “umm, can I go to the bathroom before we do it?”
 “Haha, we’re going to have some fun before the main event.” You slide your hand across her chest and grab her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Ahh…” 
You go straight for her neck and kiss her, making her moan even more. You switch back and forth, massaging her breasts, and you make out with her neck. 
After a few minutes, you move your hand off her chest and place it on her thighs, giving it a nice grip.
“Ahh, oppa, it feels good.”
Little by little you move your hand, anticipating her reaction as you move towards her lower region. She feels your fingers hover against her cunt, which catches her by surprise.
Nayeon tightens her legs to the feeling of your finger, tracing her lower lips. It’s a weird sensation, but don’t hate it, instead, it makes her stomach tickle. 
“Ahh, oppa, what are you doing?”
 “You’re this wet, already?” as you continue to rub against her wet lips. You press your fingers deeper, rubbing it quickly.
Nayeon puts her hands on top of yours and moans, “Ahh, oppa, stop, you’re making me weird…” 
You increase the pace, rubbing her cunt, making her leak uncomfortably. She puts her hands on her breasts, twisting her nipples. 
Suddenly, you see Nayeon arching her back and crying out, “oppa, I think I need to pee.” She tries to stand up, but her body doesn’t respond; she begins to shake violently and cry out as she has her orgasm. 
You feel a large amount of liquid gush out of Nayeon, staining the couch she was sitting on, “Ahh, oppa, sorry, I peed all over your couch!” She tries to stand up, but you grab her arm and pull her back onto the seat. “Don’t.” 
Nayeon yelps as you pull her back onto the couch, “Wait, I need to use the restroom!” You don’t give her a chance to react as you rub her cunt once more. She squirms around and shouts, “No, I’m going to pee again!” Using her own juices as lube, you vigorously move your hand. 
It doesn’t take long for her to have her second orgasm, “Ahh, ahh… ahhh, let me rest.” You repeat this another two times and smile when she becomes a complete mess. 
Nayeon tries to catch her breath; her own body is completely sore. When she sees you grin, she begs, “Please, don’t. My body is sore!” and crashes onto the couch.
Happy with the results, you spread her legs open and see her slightly red and swollen cunt, ready for the main event.
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changes · 1 year
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Friday, June 2nd, 2023
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strniohoeee · 10 months
Note
I have a question for a Matt fic if you can’t do it that’s fine, Could you possibly do a matt version of vie (I think that’s it idk) if you want to and can 😁🫶🏻
-anonymous out for now
Foe
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N absolutely hates Matt with a burning passion. Nick and Chris get fed up with them after hearing them argue on their road trip. What happens when he locks them in a hotel room together??🗣️
Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTT. Nothing too crazy though. This is also for another request I got for enemies to lovers with Matt where they travel far and stop in different hotels and have to stay together LOL. Also I was half asleep writing this, so I hope yall enjoy🤭
Song for the imagine: Back to the Old House-The Smiths
⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️
And you never knew
How much I really liked you
Cause I never even told you
Oh, but I meant to
Are you still there?
I felt my eye twitching, my head spinning and my jaw hurting from the fake smile I had plastered on my face.
“A road trip…how fun” I said through my teeth looking at Nick
“I figured since we have this whole month why not just drive through a couple of states you know” he said
“And you want me to come?” I asked furrowing my brows
“Yes we do” Chris said
“Not me” Matt shot out
I looked over at Matt giving him a death stare and rolling my eyes.
“I mean I’m happy staying here you know. Why don’t you guys go as brothers and enjoy this time for yourselves” I said looking back at Nick
“We really want you to come though like badly, and you can split the driving with Matt since we can’t drive for shit” he said pointing between him and Chris
“Ughhh fine I’ll go” I said throwing myself back on the bed
“Trust me we’d be fine without you” Matt said smacking my head
“Fuck off” I said slapping his hand away
“Matt literally shut the fuck up” Nick said
A few days had passed and it was now time to venture out to some random states. I wasn’t even sure what to pack, but all I know is I had a huge suitcase and a duffel bag. I mean you can’t be too sure right?
I had driven to the triplets house since we were taking their bigger car. When I pulled up Matt was packing some stuff into the trunk while Chris and Nick walked back into the house
I parked my car and got out grabbing my suitcase and my duffel bag
“The fuck did you pack for?” Matt said looking over his shoulder
“A fucking road trip are you an idiot?” I said placing my duffel bag on my suitcase
“You’re acting like you’re moving or some shit” he said laughing
“I like to have options since I actually have a sense of style unlike you, so buzz off” I said rolling my eyes at him
“Packed for a fucking runway show or some shit” he said
I pushed him out the way to look at the trunk
“Matt what the fuck is this?” I said looking at him
“Uhh looks like suitcases and bags to me” he said shrugging his shoulder
“No shit smart ass. You packed this car horribly. Let me fix it” I said
“Knock yourself out” he said
I had removed some suitcases and bags, and I got to a larger bag in the back of the trunk. Sliding it forward
“Okay princess hold this” I said looking over at Matt
“Fuck you….calling me princess” he said rolling his eyes
“Well you watched me undo all this without offering a hand, so yes you are a princess, now hold this please” I said trying to give him the heavy duffel bag
“No im good” he said smiling at me and crossing his arms over his chest
I looked at him blinking, and I lifted the bag up, throwing it over my shoulders, and letting it crash to the concrete pavement.
“Suit yourself then” I said shrugging my shoulders
“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY” Matt yelled leaning off of the car and walking over to the bag
“Aww it must’ve slipped” I said grabbing my duffel bag off of my suitcase, and rolling my suitcase
“You’re a bitch” he said opening the bag that I’m assuming was his and looking inside of it
I rolled my suitcase past him and lifted my duffel bag up to put it over my shoulder letting it hit Matt in the head.
“So I’ve been told” I said laughing at him
“This has filming equipment in it, my equipment to be exact. You’re lucky it didn’t break” he said standing up
“I’m actually pretty sad it didn’t break” I said frowning
Matt scoffed at me and walked into the house. Leaving me alone to finish packing the trunk up correctly. Soon they all came back out, and got ready to get in the car
Matt shoved past me to get in on the drivers side. I lost my footing and gave him a dirty look
“I hate you” I said to him
“Feelings mutual don’t worry” he said smiling at me
“Can you guys just not fight for once. I have not spent a single day with you guys in two years where there was no fighting going on” Nick said
“I try my best, but he really knows how to get under my skin” I said
“Tell me about it, but please I can’t handle a road trip with Matt in a pissg mood” Chris said
“Okay okay I’ll be nice” I said throwing my hands up in defense
Chris sat in the passenger seat, I sat behind Matt and Nick sat behind Chris. It was a pretty decent car ride for the most part. We were driving north at first.
Occasionally I’d look into the rear view mirror sometimes catching Matt’s eyes. But always looking away. But we kept locking eyes accidentally
“Stop looking at me like a creep” Matt said
“I’m not trying to look at you. Everytime I look up you happen to also be looking” I said getting annoyed
“Uhh yeah it’s the rear view mirror, I have to see what’s happening behind me on the road” he said shaking his head
“Literally shut up before I lose it” I said sighing
“Whatever..” he said rolling his eyes at me
We had been through three states already. We fought the whole time driving, we fought at every stop, we fought for every meal. Chris and Nick were growing frustrated. I think Matt and I didn’t even enjoy our stay in these states because we spent the whole time arguing.
In these three states Chris and Nick forced us to stay in a hotel room together. This was the worst idea in the world because this made us fight more.
The first hotel we stood in, Matt kept turning the light on every five minutes to piss me off, and then he talked the whole night. The second hotel we stayed at, Matt threw ice cold water on me the morning we were heading out while I was showering. The third state we got to there was only one sink, and Matt and I woke up late, so we were rushing. First he took an extra long shower using the hot water, so my shower was cold. Then we had to brush our teeth at the same time.
I leaned over to spit into the sink when suddenly I felt Matt hovering over me. He spat his toothpaste in my hair. My jaw dropped and I let a gasp out
“You did not” I said looking up at him
“Whoops must’ve slipped” he said shrugging his shoulders
I had no time to wash my hair so I had to wipe my hair with a wet towel, and hope for the best. I shoved past Matt packing my stuff up, and ignoring him as I made my way down to the lobby.
This incident was the icing on the cake. I was so angry. I wasn’t the nicest to Matt, but spitting toothpaste in my hair was a low fucking blow.
As we got in the car and headed to get breakfast Chris opened his mouth
“It smells like toothpaste” he said laughing
“Yeah thank your idiot brother” I said with a straight face
“What’d he do?” Chris asked turning back to look at me
“He fucking spat toothpaste in my hair, and I had no time to shampoo it out” I said rolling my neck
“Matt what the fuck” Nick said getting annoyed
“It was an accident” he said pouting
“To hell with you you fucking asshole” I said loudly
“You can throw my bag and hit me in the head, but this was too much?” He said laughing
“Toothpaste from your mouth? Yeah you crossed a line you stupid fuck” I said putting my hand in between the space of the head rest and the chair, and pulled his little neck hairs
“OUCH WHAT THE FUCK” he screamed grabbing the back of his neck
“Awww it was an accident” I said pouting at him
“Bringing you with us was the biggest mistake” he said
“Yeah I think so too” I said crossing my arms over my shoulders
The whole ride went like that. Every restaurant we stopped at and every gas station. Chris and Nick even snapped at us a few times because we were stressing them out.
We stayed at a hotel in the fourth state, and I was hoping us arguing all day would make Nick split us up, but I thought wrong.
“You and Matt are staying together, and Chris and I are keeping your room keys, so if you leave…you’re shit out of luck we’re not helping you” Nick said shrugging his shoulders
“WHAT” we both screeched out
“This arguing is so fucking annoying. We are supposed to be having a good time, and instead we’re miserable. Yall need to talk out your issues because I can’t do this anymore” Nick said to us
“Yeah like I’m exhausted and annoyed with you both bickering like children. I wanted this month break to be nice and fun, but it’s not…please figure this shit out” Chris said rubbing his eyes
We both nodded our heads in defeat, and Nick unlocked our door letting us in, and watching as the door shut in his face.
We locked the door and turned the lights on. Our jaws dropped at the site. One fucking bed….
“They’re fucking with us, they have to be” Matt said scoffing
“Yeah no shit dumbass…they want us to be as uncomfortable as possible, and talk about our issues” I said placing my duffel bag down
“Okay fucking mystery P.I” Matt said laughing
“I’m going to shower and get this toothpaste out of my hair, so behave for like 30 minutes” I said to him
I got in the shower and enjoyed my alone time. It was so peaceful to be alone with your thoughts. I mean I hated fighting with Matt all the time. I wasn’t even sure why I fought with him all the time. It’s just everytime I would see his face it made me so angry. If it wasn’t for his shitty attitude Matt was actually an attractive guy. Beautiful on the outside and ugly on the inside. At least from what I saw….
I ignored Matt as I finished my routine and he went to shower. I laid in the bed after drying my hair and just stared at the ceiling. All that I could see was flashes of Matt’s face. It made me angry. The one person I hate the most and that’s all my brain is clouded with.
Matt got out of the shower and sat on the edge of the bed scrolling on his phone. I was staring into the back of his head just thinking. Mainly mean things, but one other thing….his hair looked so good right now. WHAT THE FUCK NO!
It was 2AM at this point, and Matt shut the main light off keeping the lamp on. I grabbed a pillow and a blanket it laid on the floor
“What are you doing” he said looking at me
“Throwing a party…Matt I’m going to sleep” I said rolling my eyes at him
“Yeah, but why on the floor” he said laughing
“Because I’m not sleeping next to you” I said scoffing
“You act like I bite” he said giving me a dirty look
“You might as well with those teeth of yours, so damn big” I said laughing
Matt let out a giggle and looked away. Did I just make him laugh? My eyebrow raised as I looked at him
“Just get in the bed” he said looking at me
“I’m good” I said laying down and turning away from him
Matt scoffed and shut the light off. My mind started racing. His little laugh was so cute, and the way he looked down at me to lay in the bed with him….idk why I started to smile this was weird.
“This feels wrong” Matt saddened blurted out making my heart jump from being scared
“What” I said confused
“You sleeping on the floor like just get up, and sleep next to me” he said
“No” I said
“Stop being so stubborn already” he said smacking his hands down on the bed sheets
“Fine okay” I said getting up
I made my way over to the bed and laid down. Matt was facing me as I looked up at the ceiling. My breathing became shallow as I felt his eyes on me.
“Please stop looking at me” I said in a whisper
“Sorry” he said back
I let a slight smile fall on my face, and I guess he saw it with the little bit of moonlight coming in through the window
“You look very pretty when you smile, you should do it more often” he said
“Well stop pissing me off everyday and I’d have more to smile about” I said
“Are you flirting with me?” He asked laughing
“In your dreams Matthew” I said laughing lightly
“Oh in my dreams indeed” he said
“You’re such a strange person” I said rubbing my eyes
“Is that why you hate me?” He asked
“I don’t hate you. I hate the way you act. You know how to make me angry” I replied
“I mean I don’t mean to be that way, but to see how easily you get upset it makes me smile” he said laughing a bit
“I’m glad my anger brings you joy” I said shaking my head
“It’s cute” he responded
“I must be mistaken…is Matt flirting with me?” I asked
“Oh no I would never” he said laying on his back now
“Right right” I said shrugging my shoulders
The room got silent…painfully silent. I’m sure you could hear my heart beating out of my chest. My breathing became heavier. Why was there such weird tension now?
I mindlessly started to lightly hum a song trying to coo myself to sleep?? I don’t know..
“What’s that? I’ve heard you hum that song before” Matt said
“Oh it’s Back to the Old House by The Smiths” I said
“I’ve been trying to figure out that song for the longest every time you hum it” he said in a whisper
“Oh yeah” I said also in a whisper
Matt’s hand came down near mine, and I felt his pinky graze against my skin. My breathing hitched in my throat as I glanced down at his movement.
“I love The Smiths” I said in a low whisper
“What was that?” He asked his pinky now completely rubbing up and down my hand
“I said… I love The Smiths” I responded looking over at him. To see him already looking back.
Suddenly Matt’s lips crashed into mine. Throwing me for a fucking loop because what the fuck was this?
But my lips moved with his as he leaned up and over. Slowly making his way to hover above me. My hands immediately rubbing through his hair
Our lips locked in such a heated and passionate kiss. Who would’ve thought I needed a kiss from Matt so badly. My body ached for him, and I slowly hated that. I was supposed to hate him what's going on…
“Wait wait wait” I said pushing Matt back
“What’s wrong?” He asked looking at me
“I mean nothings wrong. It’s just….we’re supposed to hate each other” I said
“Who says enemies can’t kiss?” He asked
“Fuck it” I said pulling him back down for another heated make out session.
Matt’s dick slowly pressed against my cunt as my legs stayed spread for him. My heart fluttered at the feeling as I pulled Matt down more to allow our chests to touch.
Matt began to kiss down my neck as my nails scratched his scalp. This was so wrong yet felt so right. I had complete control in my hands. And I wanted this to go further than some kissing. I so desperately wanted Matt right now.
“I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything” Matt said looking at me as he kissed up my neck
“Trust me if I felt forced I would’ve kneed you in the balls” I said, and he laughed against my skin causing me to get goosebumps
Matt and I continued to kiss until his hands ran up my shirt and slowly began to take it off. Lifting off the bed for him to get it off my head
He pulled away and removed his shirt as well. Leaning back down as our bare chests touched causing me to let out a whimper
He kissed down my neck and down my chest as he left open mouth kisses on my breasts. He kissed down my stomach and to where my pajama bottoms sat
He came back up running his right hand over my breasts as he kissed my neck.
“I need more” I moaned out
“Okay” he said in a whisper
Matt pulled away and helped me slide out of my pajama bottoms. He slowly slid his pants off.
He ran his hands over my cloth pussy as I shuddered. He removed his boxers and slid my underwear to the side. Slowly he slid into me allowing myself to adjust to the burn from the stretch.
God Matt felt so good. I was already in heaven and he hasn’t even fucked me yet.
“Are you ready?” He asked me as he bottomed out
“Yes” I panted out as my back arched
“I’m going to go slow okay” he said
“Okay Matt” I said licking my dry lips
Matt began to thrust in and out of me at a slow pace. Truly allowing me to feel all of him. My hands gripped the sheets beneath me as my toes curled.
Matt was filling me up so well. I swore my eyes were in the back of my head. His thrusts slow but deep and harder really stretching me out
“You can go faster” I moaned out
Matt leaned forward and brought my left leg to wrap around his torso as he began to pound into me.
“Fuck Y/N, you feel amazing” he panted out into my ear
His necklace tapping against my collar bone with every thrust. As my hands began to rake up and down his back
“Shit Matt….holy fuck just like that” I moaned out
His hips snapping into me at a faster pace. The bed creaked and lightly tapped against the wall. We really hoped Nick and Chris were asleep because this would make for a awkward experience tomorrow
“You’re taking me so well. I thought you hated me” he moaned out
Pounding into me deeper causing a loud whine to escape my lips
“I might’ve hated you before, but you’re fucking me so good I might fall in love” I moaned out throwing my head back
“Love so soon?” He moaned out as he hit my g spot
“Eventually” I panted out
“Yeah I want to fuck you a few more times before you decide on that” he said as his thrusts became sloppy
“I’d like that very much” I moaned out
“I know you would, fuck” he moaned out
My mouth hung open as his lips ghosted against them. My brows furrowed as I began my orgasm slowly approaching.
My heel of my foot for a fact digging into his back as my body quivered and shook for him
“Matt I’m so close” I moaned out as my hips lifted off the bed
“Hold on baby hold on” he said
Snaking his hand in between us he began to rub my clit causing me to let out a high pitch whine.
He began to run faster as my breathing got heavier. My mouth fell slack as his hips smacked into me.
My stomach coiling and my thighs shaking
“Fuckkkk I’m cumming” I moaned out as my legs began to shake and my back lifted off of the mattress. Clenching around Matt as his name fell from my lips in a loud moan.
He helped me ride out my high and slowly pulled out of me as I laid there. He began to stroke his dick chasing his own high
His breathing became heavy as his lower stomach contracted and he painted my thighs with his cum. His mouth slack and eyes staring down at me as he moaned out my name.
Once he came down from his high he helped clean us up. And he got back in bed. It got quiet again and my thoughts started racing
“I don’t hate you. I never did” Matt suddenly blurted out
“Oh” was all I could say
“Watching you get mad over small things made me laugh, and I felt like it was our own little way of flirting” he said
“I mean at times it was” I said looking at him
“And other times I went over the line” he said shaking his head
“Yeah you did, but that’s okay. Look where it landed us fucking in a hotel room” I said laughing
“I suppose that’s true” he said laughing
“It’s just easier to dislike someone than to actually like them, and I’m so mad I can’t hate you” I replied
“Oh the feelings mutual babe” he said licking his bottom lip
I laughed and shoved his shoulder
Matt pulled me in, and we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms after having much needed conversations.
The next morning when we woke up. We showered and packed up. It wasn’t even awkward and we actually enjoyed our morning together. We even walked down to the lobby together which never happened.
“You guys seem happy” Chris said
“Did you hash things out?” Nick asked
“We did, and it was all one big misunderstanding” Matt said looking at them
“Yeah it was. However the one bed was a dick move” I said looking at Nick
“Oh one bed? That’s so weird I didn’t even know that” he said
“You didn’t?” We both said
“No, it must’ve been an accident” he said shrugging his shoulders
“Well I’m glad it worked out that way anyways” I said shrugging my shoulders
“Yeah! Plus it seemed to work you guys are getting along great” Nick said
“Oh yeah you know. Just a good ol conversation to make it all better” Matt said
“I’m so glad you guys are okay now” Chris said getting excited
“We are too! So now let’s actually go have some fun like we’ve been planning to!” I said loudly
We finished our road trip, and I was so thankful for Nick and Chris putting us together. Who would’ve known how badly I needed Matt, and I finally got him. It only took two years…
The End
Mannnn idk how I feel about this, but also I was like half awake writing this it’s bad LMAOOO. I hope you guys enjoyed and I love yall dearly🥹🖤🖤
-J💅🏽
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suffersinfandom · 10 months
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Controversial opinion (?): the Kraken Era wasn’t all that dark.
There’s a lot of meta and fic out there that portray Ed as a bloodthirsty, hyperviolent monster, and when that portrayal is challenged, the rebuttal is usually along the lines of, “I’m just doing what canon did. Did you even watch the show? It's racist, not me!”
I did watch the show, and honestly? I went in expecting far worse based on meta and fic I read during the hiatus. When I see people say they didn’t think Ed did enough to redeem himself or that he went past the point of no return, I just don’t understand.
I already went into this in my way-too-long meta about Ed and abuse, but I do think it bears repeating (in a shorter post) because it seems like Ed’s actions -- more than the actions of any other character -- are scrutinized and discussed outside of the context of a comedy about pirates. There’s tons of casual violence in Our Flag Means Death. Sometimes the violence is even funny! 
So what does Ed actually do in the first episodes of season two?
We see Ed directly harm someone twice in the first two episodes: first on the wedding boat, and then when he shoots Izzy in the leg. Kind of unimpressive numbers, yeah? I'd expect more out of a heartbroken Blackbeard.
The first instance involves Ed shooting a man during a raid. That man has a sword through his chest before Ed fires, leading me to believe that Ed’s still following his season one pattern of keeping himself a step removed from murder (technically, the sword killed that guy). We also don’t see the murder happen; the man tumbles offscreen before Ed shoots. This makes the action less brutal. If the writers wanted us to be appalled by Ed’s violence, we would’ve gotten a graphic kill or several.
And the second instance is Izzy. Ed shoots Izzy in the leg after he suggests that the shitty atmosphere is because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. Hot take, maybe, but I don’t think that was entirely out of line. Ed’s feelings for Stede are not the only problem; a significant chunk of the problem is Izzy. Izzy called in the navy and led to their capture. Izzy threatened Ed back into the Blackbeard persona the last time Ed tried to talk things through, and that was without an audience of potential mutineers.
We’re also told that Ed has taken more of Izzy’s toes between seasons. This isn’t cool -- bosses definitely shouldn’t be asking for their employees’ toes -- but there is a precedent for it. In season one, Ed told Stede that he used to feed people their toes for a laugh (yuck). For a laugh. This, to me, implies that it’s not a huge deal. It’s certainly not completely unexpected pirate behavior, and it seems more lenient than a keelhauling or a whipping. I think both of those things would've felt far more gruesome and dark.
As far as violent actions go, that’s not a lot. Like, numerically.
Things get darker in S2E2 when Ed becomes increasingly desperate for someone, anyone, to send him to doggy heaven. He’s unhinged and working his way up to a murder-suicide before he’s stopped. He hacks the wheel right off of the ship and threatens to shoot the mast. He orders Archie and Jim to fight to the death. He ignores anonymous crewmembers as they’re swept overboard in the storm. This is bad! It’s self-destructive and selfish! But it's also tragic and human and understandable.
In my opinion, the worst thing Ed does in these episodes is force his crew to do violence for him -- not because it’s violence (again, they’re pirates), but because the violence hurts them. THIS is what traumatizes them. Their trauma flashbacks are scenes of them hurting others, not of Ed hurting them directly. Ed didn’t physically torture his crew (with the exception of Izzy, and that’s complicated). His crime was driving them to do one violent raid after another, killing and plundering without any joy or theatrics. Ed feels trapped in the role of Blackbeard -- the role that he’s been desperate to escape -- and, in his heartbreak, he opts to trap his crew with him. 
Yes, Ed is messed up in the first two episodes of season two. I don’t blame the crew for almost killing him; it’s what needed to be done. I think that Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang had every right to want Ed gone after Stede’s return. 
But I don’t think that Ed was a super violent monster who tortured his crew and murdered his way through his breakup. He engages in very little onscreen violence, and the person that most of his violence is focused on -- Izzy -- is the same person who told him to be violent. I think that anyone who says that Ed’s actions in the first part of season two are extremely dark is either looking at them out of context, misremembering what actually happened and just recalling the dark tone, or working with some kind of motive.
In conclusion: Ed is a man who, at his very darkest, was still operating pretty firmly within the bounds of "stuff pirates do" (but not stuff Ed has historically done, presumably).
Also look at him. Thank you.
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GIF by unearthlydust
EDIT: Read the reblogs for some amazing and more nuanced additions!
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ts1m1kas · 11 months
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Original Ask: Hi love! I was wondering if you could do a Jude x reader where they get into a VERY nasty argument and reader goes to sleep on the couch crying and wakes up with jude next to her on the couch! (anonymous - @neosfam)
Word Count: 678 words
(author's note: thank you for the request, my love 🫶)
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Y/N and Jude never seemed to argue. They were both so similar and held the same views on everything, so there was never any need for them to fight. But this time was different. Jude had just blown her off again to go for a meal with his teammates, and she had finally had enough.
“I’m not saying I don’t want you to hang out with your friends, baby, you know I encourage you too. Its just we’ve had plans multiple times this week and you’ve cancelled on me every time to hang out with your friends.”
“I need them to like me Y/N, you don’t understand. So what I cancelled on a few plans, we can always reschedule? I don’t understand why you’re so annoyed?”
“Jude, I’m annoyed because it feels like I’m second best to your friends. I know how hard moving teams has been on you, and I get it. But it doesn’t mean you can push me aside and forget about me!” 
At this point, she felt like crying. Jude was normally so understanding, and she couldn’t understand why he was being like this.
“No, Y/N you don’t know how I feel. You don’t know anything.” 
With the final gut-wrenching line, Jude stomped upstairs, leaving his girlfriend crying in their kitchen. Y/N moved over to the sofa, grabbed a blanket, and tried to fall asleep.
Hours passed, and Jude felt awful. He was in disbelief with himself over how he had spoken to Y/N. He didn’t know what came over him. All he did know was how the guilt was slowly eating away at him. 
When Y/N didn’t come up to bed, Jude began to worry. He pushed the plush covers away from his body and quietly walked downstairs. When he saw his girlfriend curled up on their sofa, her cheeks still wet with tears, his heart broke. It was all his fault.
Jude moved over to where she was laid down and manoeuvered himself down next to her. He readjusted the blanket, so it covered them both and tried to fall asleep.
Y/N woke up to the early morning sun streaming in through the window. She felt something wrapped around her waist, and she turned around to see Jude sleeping peacefully behind her. All the pain from last nights argument resurfaced in her mind.
She removed his arms and got up. She turned the kettle on to boil and got a mug out of the cupboard. Once the water had boiled, she began preparing herself a cup of tea.
Stirring at the sound of the kettle, Jude sat up on the sofa. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the heavy weight of sleep away. He watched his girlfriend mill around their kitchen, preparing herself a drink and some breakfast.
“Good morning.” Jude said, breaking the thick silence that had settled over the room.
Y/N just nodded at him, barely acknowledging his presence. She continued making her food, determined to ignore Jude. 
Jude knew that she was still upset. He didn’t blame her. Y/N had poured her heart out to him and alerted him she she was upset and he had responded with spiteful comments and aggression.
“Look, I know you’re angry. You have plenty of reasons to be angry. But I just want you to know that I’m so sorry. I should never have spoken to you like that, especially when you were only telling me how you felt. I understand now that I’ve been a complete idiot.”
Y/N stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. 
“You have been a complete idiot. But I know how much pressure you’re under. I accept your apology, but please don’t ever act like that again. That isn’t the Jude I know and love.”
He nodded at her words, thankful that Y/N had accepted his apology. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. Jude made a silent promise to himself to never argue with the woman he loved so dearly ever again.
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GUESS THE AUTHOR IS BACK!
That’s right, it’s that time of year again! Hop to your keyboards and get your betting slips ready, because it’s HERMITCRAFT GUESS THE AUTHOR 2024!
But what IS Guess The Author? Simple! You’ll have until THE DEADLINE to write a work (or multiple works, or dust off an old WIP, we won’t judge) and get it in the collection. (Which can be viewed right there!)
When THE DEADLINE hits, we will reveal the collection while keeping it anonymous. Once it’s open, the readers go and guess who wrote what! One week later, we’ll reveal who our authors are!
Don’t worry, we’ll be posting weekly reminders, just like last time!
Now, on to the important stuff!
THE DEADLINE will be July 7th, 2024, at Midnight EST.
(Here’s a handy little countdown clock we’ve made just for the occasion!)
The collection (To where you’ll post your works) can be added to by following the instructions HERE. 
Now, we do have some ground rules:
-THERE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO EXTENSIONS TO THE DEADLINE, PERIOD. We will not make exceptions. If your work isn’t in the collection by THE DEADLINE, it’s not getting in. If you don’t make it, you shouldn’t despair- post it anyway! This challenge is all about getting people writing, not some silly collection. That said, we will not reopen it for any reason.
-No smut. Sorry. Cut away from it, fade to black, heavily imply it, just no onscreen smut. Everything else is fine.
-Nothing explicitly illegal.
-No causing us to break TOS (Tumblr or Ao3!)
-Minimum wordcount of 50. There is no maximum!
-Hermit-centric! This is a Hermitcraft event, we’re Hermitcraft fans. Feel free to have other people show up, but the focus should be on at least one Hermit! (NPC’s or Hermit characters such as NPC Grian, Grimdog, Goatman, EX, Hels, and so on are all fine!)
-The mod team reserves the right to remove works from the collection that violate these rules or violate the spirit of the challenge. That means, for example, please don’t add a work that’s a part of your ongoing series! That’s just spoiling the fun.
-Adding on to that, we will allow a maximum of ten fics per author in the collection, to keep guessing varied and fun. You're welcome to add "compilation" fics, where each chapter is a separate story.
-if AO3 implodes on launch day again, the mods reserve the right to scream.
Other than that, do what you like! Horror, shipping, coffeeshops, we don’t care! The point is to write and have fun!
You’re encouraged to lie, misdirect people, write in another author’s style, write about Hermits you don’t usually write! Any trick you want to use is fair game.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask the blog. We have five mods: 
-Mod Bayonet 
-Mod Butterfly Knife 
-Mod Machete
-Mod Rapier
-Mod 🔪
Now get out there and WRITE! Can’t wait to see you in the collection!
Lastly, if you want to chat about your work anonymously, head over to @hcguesstheauthormessageboard !
@mcytblrsource
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qqueenofhades · 4 months
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There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place
And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?
Do you think I don't know that?
Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?
Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.
Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?
Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:
THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS
and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???
Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.
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ofmdrecaps · 3 months
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07/05-06/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Rhys Darby; David Jenkins; Nathan Foad & Con O'Neill; Leslie Jones; Nat Torres; Darby Family Foster Kittens; Articles; Fiber Arts Brigade: Auction/Fundraiser Updates/Bronson Pinchot Cameo; Uproar in the UK; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; OurFlagMeansFanfiction/BabyKrakenPodfics; OFMD Themed Earrings; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika
== Rhys Darby ==
More coverage of Rhys' new show The Hungry Games! This time on Today.com.
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Source: Rhys Darby's Twitter
Annnd more shots of Rhys and Bonus Rosie & Finn at the Great Big Cow Band Concert on July 4!
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Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram
Annnnd yet another Tural Commercial for FFXIV!
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Source: FFXIV's Instagram
== David Jenkins ==
Well the last two days were big clowning days for everyone! Early Friday we had Chaos Dad commenting on a tweet from March.
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Source: David Jenkins Twitter Next, fans noticed that the "Got a really good feeling about 2024" post that David took down from Instagram was re-added. Our friend cremeishere noticed that the post had been removed from David's Instagram after one of the cancellations (around March 22). Today however, it was noticed that it was back. Do we know exactly when it came back? No idea-- but Honking ensues!
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Source: CremeIsHere's Twitter
And if that wasn't enough honking, our friend Jules mentioned the following from Kinga's recent post about Simone LeBone, "When dad is working we're napping" and asked "what is he working on"? Good question.
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Source: TheRevengeBoys Twitter
== Nathan + Con ==
Nathan posted some more about his spotlight in the Hot Shots publication, and our dear Con wrote him a lovely love note <3
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Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram
== Leslie Jones ==
Leslie's been out to the LA Sparks game!
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Source: misterjt319 Instagram
== Nat Torres ==
One of our awesome writers, Nat Torres, is making a rare appearance on Instagram.
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Source: Natalie Torres Instagram
== Darby Family Foster Kittens ==
As we all know, I'm a sucker for kittens! Here's new Darby Family Foster Kitten content!
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Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram
== Articles ==
@adoptourcrew Found some very interesting articles regarding the cancellation of OFMD. In addition-- the #1 from Collider is adding to the Honkfest going on!
10 Canceled TV Shows That Deserve to Be Revived
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Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter
"I Tear Up Every Time I See It": Here Are 23 Romantic Movie And TV Moments Without The Words "I Love You"
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Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter
== Fiber Arts Brigade ==
The Fiber Arts Brigade reached their next tiered goal! They've raised $1750 with the #ThriveAsACrew campaign to support SageUSA! Thank you to everyone who's donated!
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An anonymous donor was kind enough to pay for another cameo in honor of FAB reaching the fourth tier goal! Below is a video from Bronson Pinchot on his (and Ned Low's) advise on how we can ThriveAsACrew!
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The Fiber Arts Brigade Ebay Auctions are ALMOST DONE! If you were bummed to miss out on Moosh's cross stitch commission from the AOC raffle, here's another chance! Check out the ebay listing here! Thank you to all the artists and patrons of this auction!
Source: Fiber Arts Brigade Twitter
== Uproar In The UK ==
Thank you @adoptourcrew for keeping us apprised of the UK Release of Uproar on Prime video! Check it out UK Crew!
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Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter
== Fan Spotlight ==
= Cast Cards =
Tonight's cast cards from @melvisik are Nathanial Goodman who's "another submission for ‘Outstanding Cinematography in a Comedy Series for Impossible Birds’ -AdoptOurCrew"! And Jaden McLeod -- "Soldier #1 in Mermen, no doubt someone who came across Ed and/or the crew of the Revenge..."
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Source: @melvisik's Twitter
== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==
Our dear friends over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction are moving up the charts on spotify!
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Annnd coming up this Monday, a New Episode - The Silly Voices Episode, this time joined by BabyKraken Podfics!
Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction / BabyKraken Podfics
== OFMD Themed Earrings ==
I would just like to say I love all of the beautiful and creative ways everyone continues to honour our favourite show! The darling @paleoleigh has been making OFMD Themed Earrings and she was kind enough to allow me to share some of her work! You can learn more on PaleoLeigh's Tumblr Post and if you're interested, order them on her Etsy Store!
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Source: PaleoLeigh's Tumblr Post
== Love Notes ==
Hey there Lovelies! I hope you all are getting some much needed rest this weekend! It's been a lot lately, huh? The world, elections, so many different countries struggling, online -- everywhere's been pretty crazy lately. I know a lot of you have so much on your minds, and rightly so. When so much is happening all at once, seeing struggles go on in your safe spaces too can make things so much harder to cope with. It is okay to feel sad or upset if your safe space doesn't feel the same way it did right now. It doesn't mean it won't feel safe again one day. Life and situations ebb and flow, and circumstances change, as much as we always want good things to stay the same. Good things can come from change too. Our magnificent and kind friend @xray-vex shared a screenshot on twitter the other day of this tumblr post and I thought it was incredibly appropriate to how a lot of people have been expressing they've been feeling lately.
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I know sometimes it feels like you have to respond to that tweet, or get into that discourse, but if you don't have the energy, just remember you don't owe anything to anyone. You are wonderful the way you are, and you deserve to enjoy your space too. If it feels like too much, take a break, watch a new show, read a new book, step away if you need to. Or if re-watching our pirate show would help-- feel absolutely welcome to do that too. Whatever YOU need for YOU. It will be different for everyone, and there is no shame in wanting to do something different to make you feel better. There will always be folks here for you if you decide to step away and come back, so don't be afraid to if you need to okay? We love you crew, we care so much about you, and your health. Be well <3
== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==
Some BTS gif tonight for the discerning gif lover. Git courtesy of @dallonismysavior!
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