#so this is what we have to settle on (i am sorry)

[amywritesthings]

Hi love!! Can I ask for some fluff with our man when we are still in bed, waking up and just talking about future? Like Levi's dream of owning a tea shop is so cute

i got you xo

window shopping.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 880 warnings: 18+ mdni, light oral sex (f!receiving), naked laying in bed, overall fluff and banter, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: divider by @saradika-graphics

"Nice to Mint You."

You're met with deep, disappointed silence.

"Jasmine-d to Meet You."

An unimpressed baritone groan rumbles against your cheek.

"...that really the best you got?"

It takes everything in you not to vibrate from your own amusement, knowing damn well that Levi's eyes must be glued to the back of his head from how hard he's rolling them in exasperation.

With pursed lips, you nuzzle your cheek back into the soft bare expanse of his chest. "...nice to... matcha—"

"Enough."

The dam breaks, and you're left bursting into quiet giggles when his strong hand pulls you closer to his body.

Easily you mold closer, gliding a palm along the flex of his abdomen until your arm has returned to its original place. Your fingers tickle the curve of his torso, barely brushing the white sheets below.

To think the two of you once lived a life where you couldn't spend the twilight hours of the day like this: in a proper bed with proper sheets and pillows; left to talk about nothing, nonsense, until the sun came up and you returned to his shadow.

Lieutenant and Captain.

"What?" you feign innocence, lifting your head to observe the miniscule scowl pinching his eyes to a narrow. "Every tea shop on the surface has a punny name."

"Not if they have a bit of damn self respect, they don't," he mumbles, still idly tracing circles into the flesh of your upper arm.

"I'm wounded."

"I'm sure you are." Caught red-handed in a lie; a grin stretches your mouth, causing his eyes to narrow further. "Brat."

"I'd rather be a brat than boring."

"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, voice still an octave lower from just waking up. "Is that what I am to you? Boring?"

"A real snooze."

You lie again, but you're persuaded otherwise when that hand on your arm snakes between flesh to tickle under your armpit. Immediately you jolt, trying to keep your voice down as you protest in panic.

"No! No, I'm kidding, don't, I'm sorry—"

"Shhh."

Levi pushes forward, landing in a position hovering above you. The arm that was once wrapped around your body now rises so his palm can cradle your face.

"So goddamn loud," he reprimands without heat. "You wanna wake up the rest of the shitheads?"

"As if they don't already know," you protest with a sigh, relaxing once you're certain he isn't about to launch an attack.

"They don't."

"Uh-huh."

For a moment, you stare. Focus, on the way his black fringe messily hangs over his stormy eyes. He's grown out his hair whether he'll admit it or not. You often find yourself wondering that it could look like longer.

"I'm losing you," he states, bringing you back to the present with him. "What's on your mind?"

You blink back into your body and really look into his eyes.

When you once dreamed about coming to the surface, you thought a thunderstorm would best these eyes. You've seen over a dozen storms at this point. None have ever compared.

"The fact that you don't wanna name your tea shop something cute."

"Who said I wanted to own one?"

"As if you wouldn't cream yourself at the idea of getting good, quality leaves to put the rest of the Walls to shame." Your brows slide high on your forehead. "Am I wrong?"

A pause settles.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

"Tch. It's not gonna have a cute name."

"Then what do you wanna name it?"

Lifting your chin, the tip of your nose grazes his.

"Indulge me."

"Fine. Got one."

"Sure."

His legs slide under the thin sheet to hook around yours. You lift your hips and shift with him to accommodate the press of his body.

For the longest time he stares, studying you, before finally mumbling three words.

"...Humanity's Strongest Brew."

He must sense you're about to howl, because his hand leaps off of your cheek to press full against your mouth. And he's right to do it: you nearly betray your location by laughing outright, head tilted back.

"S'funny to you, huh?" he grunts.

"Mmm!"

Trying to speak, to tell him that you're good, you won't alert the neighboring scouts, you wave a hand in his face. His gaze narrows to slits before eventually letting up.

"I swear, James—"

"No!" you interrupt in a whisper, fighting demons to conceal your giggles. "No, it's amazing. I'm serious."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it, Levi! But — shit, if you thought my puns were bad—"

"I'm done talking," he decides, kissing between your breasts. "Gonna make you pay for laughing."

"Wait!"

He makes a point to crawl down your body, kissing a trail of sloppy kisses at the middle of your ribcage to your belly button.

"I promise you, it's a great name."

He answers by grabbing the edge of the sheet and ripping it over his head, disappearing under the fabric.

"Levi—"

When he hooks your left thigh over his shoulder and dives in to bury his face against your center, you gasp sharply and grab the pillow behind your head. He hums against your clit, satisfied by the silence.

"Not laughing so hard now, huh?"

Before you can answer, he dives back in to devour his breakfast.

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

part two

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to an end.

warnings: none besides being slightly unedited.

word count: 1.4k

4 months later 

Dearest Wynnie Lara,

I hope you are doing well, we miss you very dearly in the Night Court but understand you leaving after such harsh things were spoken to you. I wanted to invite you to Nyx’s first birthday celebration. He does miss you so much. (As do we).

After finding out what Azriel and the other two had said to you I almost blew up their homes with the help of my sisters. 

Elain misses you very much, even though she writes letters to you weekly, you and her seemed to help each other heal after everything happened to you both. She won't tell anybody where you have gone so I will be handing this letter to her in hopes it reaches you. 

We miss you so much, and I hate that the boys said those harsh things to you for no reason. You are not a bother, or suffocating, you light up every space you go into which is so refreshing, I do not want you to feel forced to come home (Nesta feels otherwise, she misses you so much she almost started a war with another court in search of you.) But we do want you to know you do have a home here. No matter what. I know Rhys feels devastated with how the situation turned out, even though it is partially his fault.  I want to make it clear how sorry we are for their actions and that we adore you. 

Lovingly, 

Feyre

I crumple the edges of the letter with tears streaming down my face, with a shaking breath I fold the letter gently and put it back into the envelope. I set it with the piles of letters Elain has sent to me on my coffee table. I wipe my face and head over to my rough looking door of the tree house that I am living in and latch it. This area of the Autumn Court has always been on the poorer side but it was home. Growing up with no family and moving around as a fairy was never safe, so before Amarantha’s reign I settled in this area of Autumn. 

Having not been to this home in two years it took a while to get it back into shape, cleaning and removing critters that have turned it into their home while I was gone. I have wind chimes and wards surrounding this home just like my other one, the difference here though is the Autumn wind is much more soothing for me then in any other court. It’s almost like my soul knows it's safe here. 

I have my wind playing soothing music with the small instruments placed around the open room. Candles lit and windows open for the utmost ambiance while I research different wind patterns.

I hear one of my chimes go off near the front door that catches my attention, I get up from the table and walk back to the door.  Frantic knocking is what I hear once I get to the door itself, I rip it open to see what is wrong. 

“Miss Wynnie!” with a sob, and I look down to see one of the kids I help take care of from the children’s shelter near my tree house. Little antlers poke through his red hair, and tears stream down his tanned face as he launches towards me. 

“Oatie what is the matter?” I say and crouch to his level. I put my hands on his shoulders to sooth him and look him in the eyes.

“Those mean guards are back at the shelter, they are demanding more money.” Oatie is a twelve year old boy who had to grow up quickly due to being an orphan partially under Beron’s rageful reign, but he was still a gentle soul. Things have started to get better slowly with the new High Lord, but it is a slow process when the court has so much hate built in. 

“Okay sweet boy, it’s going to be alright. Go curl up on the couch with a book and some tea and I will go take care of this okay?” I tell him with a soft voice. He nods and heads off that way. Once he is settled on the couch I fix my dress, and re-braid the two long braids under my bob and fly off the balcony.

When I arrive at the shelter there are two guards yelling at the volunteer on duty at the shelter. With a burst of wind I separate them from the worker, and land in front of them. I motion for the worker to go inside.

“What is the issue here?” I bark at them, their heated eyes turn to me.

“They owe us money for protection.” The one on the right says with a grunt.

“That’s your job. The High Lord literally pays you to protect the people. So that was the wrong answer, do me a favor and try again.” I say while rolling my eyes and shifting my weight to one hip. 

“You bitch.” One says and I let out a laugh with a clap of my hands. I know I probably shouldn’t egg them on but it’s so easy. As I am about to respond they both seem to stiffen and look behind me.

“Well that’s no way to speak to a lady.” I turn to face the new voice, which belongs to High Lord Eris, who recently has had his hair trimmed since the last time I saw him. 

“She is barely a lady, my lord.” One said with a snicker. I respond with a glare and a large gust of wind knocking them both over.

I turn to face Eris completely and give him a graceful curtsy grabbing the edges of my green dress. To which I receive a sucking of the teeth sound from him.

“Wynnie dear, stand up please. You don’t have to bow to me, we are old friends.” He says with a soft smile. The two guards seemed to have disappeared leaving the two of us alone. I straighten and glow a soft pink with a cheeky grin say,

“Yes, well, I have to show my respect My Lord.” He chuckles and makes a small lunge toward me, so I float backwards and he narrowly misses me. 

“You’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me sir.” He grunts a small breath and lunges towards me again. And I am suddenly reminded of when we were younger.

“Eris! Where are you?” I yell knowing he is hiding behind one of the trees with his hounds. 

“Got you!” I hear from behind me and feel my waist being pulled into someone's chest. I look up over my shoulder and see Eris with a wide grin. I pout at him. 

“That’s not fair.” I whine. “You know I am afraid of your pups, they think I am a big bird waiting to be hunted.”  He laughs in response. 

“I would never let them hurt you Wynnie Lara, I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said softly. “You are my only friend in this wretched court. I will burn it down to protect you.” 

“Eris that is sweet but, you are an heir would that not be counterproductive?” I ask teasingly but my skin glowing a bright warm orange with endearment. 

“Not for you Wynnie.” He says.

“I can’t stay in this area long, but I did want to invite you to dinner soon.”  He tells me when we both are sitting on the forest floor. Me on a rock with my wings glowing and him leaned up against it. My hands naturally find his hair and gently run my fingers through it. 

“I would love to.” I tell him, “I might visit the Night Court here soon.” I say with a whisper.

“Oh?” He asks me softly.

“Nyx is turning one and I miss the girls a little bit.” I responded.

“Yes, that's understandable. I still am beyond livid for how you were treated there.” He says back with a huff. And I laugh a little, “You and me both.” 

“I will have to send you with a gift, hmm?” He tells me. 

“That would be very kind of you, my lord.” And in response I get him standing up and pinching my sides. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” I say in between giggles. 

“Alright Wynn. I will send a letter for dinner when you return. Be safe and have a good night.” He tells me with a pat to the head and soft voice. 

a/n: soooooooooooo what do with think???

I am a sucker for soft Eris omggggg. Please if any questions please let me know!

I am trying the taglist I hope it works lmao

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 3

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, fluffy, mild angst, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: reader character dealing with anxiety from previous chapter (non-descriptive),hinted at trauma from fatphobia, hints of Jason's self esteem and body image issues, otherwise it's fluff central

word count: 2.2k (oops? 😅)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Ding!

I looked over at my phone, briefly considering not picking it up. When I got through my front door I had ripped my jeans off, suddenly hating everything touching me. I showered, scrubbing the night off until my skin was raw and tingling, and now I was curled up on my bed sheets, having a good cry. I didn't really want to talk to anyone right now…

Ding! Ding! … Ding!

God, whoever it was was insistent though … I sighed softly and picked it up, checking the messages:

Jason: Good morning! I am so sorry for the sudden disappearance - my phone broke on my way to visit my brother!  3:15am Jason: Just got back into town, so I've finally got the sim card in an old one for now. 3:17am Jason: I feel bad, I owe you a week of good mornings! 😭 3:17am Jason: And sorry for spamming you - I just didn't want you to think the worst for a second longer than necessary… 3:18am

I stared at the screen for a long while. Jason was back … just like Red Hood said. Huh… 

Me: Don't worry about it, shit happens! 3:40am Jason: … What are you still doing up?  3:41am

I briefly considered telling him everything. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone … or maybe it would feel even worse. We didn't really know each other yet, who knew how he would react? Nausea gripped my stomach and I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths before replying.

Me: Just got home is all. Picked up a late shift tonight. 3:50am Jason: That's a hell of a late shift, that must have sucked! 3:52am Me: … Yeah, honestly it wasn't great… 😔 3:53am Jason: What are you doing tomorrow? 3:54am Me: Nothing in particular, y? 3:56am Jason: That settles it then! No more excuses, come hell or high water I will see you tomorrow! 3:56am

I stared at the screen, not sure how to feel about that idea. I did want to see him again, but I also really just wanted to sleep for 48 hours straight…

Jason: Seriously, name a time and place. We'll do anything you want! 😁 3:59am Me: You don't have to do that, Jason - you just got back! Don't you need to work? 4:00am Jason: Nope! We came back a day early, so I am all yours! 4:02am Me: … All mine, huh? 😏 4:05am Jason: 100%! Anything you want, name it! 4:06am Me: … Gotham City Mall, meet in front of the bookstore at … say 4? 4:08am Jason: Perfect, see you in 12 hours! Good night 4:08am Me: Good night Jason 4:09am

I was exhausted, but couldn't seem to sleep. I was still coming down from the anxiety and adrenaline from being attacked, and now I was also nervous and tentatively excited about seeing Jason. This was the step that usually proved someone was playing games with me. I sighed softly, sliding a hand down my soft tummy. I didn't mind the way I was shaped, but other people sure had a way of making it seem like the end of the world… I silently begged the universe; let this one be good. No more games, let it be real this time…

When I finally did sleep, my dreams were filled with red. Blood all over the pavement, staining everything. Red chrome staring me down as I cried. Large hands, so gentle against my cheeks, pulling me against a warm, broad chest…

I woke with a start and peered over at my discarded clothes in a heap from the night before. Red Hood's flannel peaked out from under my ruined pants, taunting me; I was about to go on a date and I was dreaming about another man? A man I was surely never going to see again no less? That's real healthy, well done Brain.

I stepped over the clothes on the floor, not wanting to deal with the mess left over from last night, and selected a cute but comfortable outfit. I ate a quick breakfast, spent longer than I'd care to admit on my hair and makeup, and headed downstairs to catch the bus to the mall.

My anxiety grew as I approached the front doors. It’s a trick, it must be a trick. The cold air conditioning hit me in the face, a welcome respite from the summer heat, and I made my way toward the bookstore. He's a hottie, and really sweet. Or at least knows how to play sweet. He's definitely not actually interested. I could see the sign for the bookstore on the other side of the mall. And he's a Wayne too! What could a Wayne want with me?? … Oh god, I threatened them, didn't I? I told the little one I'd stab them if they came back to the table. Why did I say that???

I blinked a bit, pausing. That was him, leaned against the wall right next to the bookstore. He had actually shown up. I watched him scroll on his phone for a minute before looking up and scanning the crowd. When his eyes landed on me I continued walking toward him. He pocketed his phone, kicked off the wall, and walked over to meet me, a little grin lighting up his face.

“You're actually here…” the words left my mouth before I could reconsider, my disbelief apparent in my tone. Jason looked a bit confused at that, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Well, yeah? … You said 4, right?”

“Sorry! Yes, I said 4. I just … I honestly wasn't sure this was … real…”

“Why wouldn't it be real?”

I blushed a bit, clearing my throat slightly; “n- never mind! Sorry, I had a weird week; my brain hasn't fully caught up.”

He nodded a little, smiling gently. “Well, I hope it's getting better at least.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. Thanks. … So, what should we do?”

“Like I said last night; anything you want.”

“Well, … we're right here, do you want to start at the bookstore?”

He nodded and fell into step beside me, smiling gently. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the store, browsing the aisles. It was odd how comfortable this was; he was a good half foot taller than me, and at least 200 pounds of pure muscle. If his arms and cheek were any gauge he was absolutely covered in old scars, and he had a bandage on one forearm so whatever gave him the scars probably wasn't confined to the past.

I should be terrified - everything about my upbringing told me this was a dangerous situation to be in. But when I saw the look in his eyes, like I was the most interesting thing in the world, all of my self-defense training fell out of my head. The voices urging me to get to safety quieted, all my instincts stilled, and there was peace. His eyes were so beautiful… 

“... Is there something on my face?” He blushed a bit, chuckling awkwardly.

I blinked, looking away. “Sorry! I wasn't staring, I just …”

“... Did you want to ask about this?” he pointed to the scar on his cheek.

“Huh? No! I have a policy of not asking people about stuff like that; you'll tell me or not on your own time. No, I just … I like your eyes is all …’’ I blushed brightly, staring at but not reading the back cover of a book.

“... My eyes?” I nodded, still pretending to read the back cover. “... You're really not going to ask about my scars?”

“Unless you want to talk about them, it's not any of my business.”

“... You're a very unusual girl.”

“Because I'm not going to pry about something you may or may not want to talk about, particularly on a first date?”

“Well, they're usually the first thing anyone wants to talk to me about. If they don't avoid me in the first place…”

I frowned a bit at that. If we met under any other circumstances, I would have taken one look at him and ducked my head to avoid an interaction. “... People suck…”

“It's not their fault; I'm intimidating…” I cautiously looked over at him. He was also staring at a book cover, a pensive little frown on his face.

“... I don't think you're intimidating.”

His eyes darted over and back to the book, and the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly. “... Thanks.”

I nodded, setting the book down. “.... So …”

“So? …”

“... Play a game?”

He chuckled, looking over at me. “A game?”

I nodded. “You tell me some of your favorite things in books, I'll tell you some of mine. We separate, select a few of our favorites that the other might like, and reconvene.”

“Alright. Is there a way to win this game?”

“Well I assume we'll each pick at least one book the other hasn't read, so we'll get to make each other read at least one of our favorites. That sounds like a win to me.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Meet back up at those comfy chairs in the back?”

I nodded, telling him some of my favorite tropes, genres, and settings. He did the same, and we darted in opposite directions. He beat me back there, but I eventually approached with a small stack, falling into the seat next to him.

He gestured toward my books; “ladies first.”

I tucked my feet under me, passing him each book in turn and making a case for it. He took each one, read the back cover, and listened intently. He had read one of them, and I figured he'd pick one of the others, if that, but he insisted he was going to get them all. When it was his turn, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but Pride and Prejudice wasn't the first thing that came to mind. 

“I've seen a few movie adaptations, but I haven't gotten around to reading it.” I smiled softly, taking the book. It was a beautiful blue cover with swirling calligraphy font in gold.

“An unparalleled tragedy - I insist this is the one you're taking home!” I giggled at his determined tone and nodded.

“Yes, sir!” I made a little mock salute, trying not to smirk at the sudden wave of pink overtaking his face. “... Well, what else do you have for me?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at the books in his hands. “Ah, um …”

One by one he passed me, Hamlet, the Three Musketeers, a book of Greek myths, and … a trashy romance?

“... Not gonna lie, this is an unexpected choice.” I read the back. It looked like your typical bodice ripper.

He chuckled, blushing a bit. “Look, it was the only book I had access to one day and I was losing my mind with boredom. But if you give it a chance, it's actually really well written, and the love interest isn't one of those creepy possessive guys the genre is known for, so …”

I nodded, taking a picture of the book covers. “I will give it a chance then!”

“... Why are you taking a picture of them?”

“... To get later? I'll start with this one, since you were so determined that I read it.” I held up Pride and Prejudice. Jason gathered up the others, putting them on his stack, then gently took Pride and Prejudice from me as well.

“Or I could just get them for you.” 

“What? Jason, no. I mean, that’s really sweet of you, but that's way too much!” Between the books he'd picked out for me and the ones I'd selected for him, he was holding at least $200 in his hands. And he'd picked the pretty hardcovers too! 

He shook his head. “I've had to cancel on you at least 5 times, and then I disappeared with no warning. You have been incredibly patient and understanding, and I will make today worth it.”

I blushed brightly, a bit surprised. “Jason, … you're worth waiting for. I enjoy talking to you, you don't have to spend money on me for today to be worth my time.”

He looked away uncomfortably, bright red, holding the stack of books to his chest. “... I … I like talking to you too … just let me do this, yeah? Call it a first date splurge.”

“... Alright, if you're sure. But I don't want you making a habit of this.”

He nodded, smiling softly. “Don't worry; I know you're a strong, independent woman.”

I nodded once, chuckling. “Damn right.”

Jason grinned, god he had an infectious grin, and led me to stand in line together. He held the stack of books in one hand, and we chatted a bit more while we waited for our turn. I was looking at a selection of little plushies in the impulse items when I felt something brush ever so slightly against my finger. I looked down; his trembling hand was next to mine, his pinky slightly extended toward me. I chuckled softly, extending mine toward him, and gently linked our fingers together. He stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing into it, gently squeezing back.

Divider by @saradika (and my thanks for making them free to use!)

Taglist (let me know in the comments if you want to be added or dropped!)

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona

[3rizu]

A Weeping Willows Dream

His pretty toy

Contents: Gojo x fem!reader - Shoko x Utahime - modern au! - pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, and etc) - ooc

Word Count: 2,519

A/N: This is a bit shorter bc I had a project but the rest will be 5k+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It was nice and warm in the morning due to Utahime keeping the heater on, and Shoko had woken up, though she was a bit angry after Utahime told her about what Suguru had said and done to you.

“Gosh, you know he’s such an asshole. I can’t believe he did that to you.”

“You can say it; I know you want to.” You said knowing she wanted to say that she was right all along, and you messed up by not listening.

“I’m not going to be bitchy—I told you so. I’m sorry, you know I had to; it was tempting.”

Shokos said apologetically, though she was a bit glad Suguru was going to be gone from your life. Although Shoko hated the way he had hurt you before leaving, she was happy he left. At least for a little while, and hopefully enough time by the time he came back, you had someone else in your mind, preferably not somebody who was just as toxic as him.

“Nope, I knew you would. Although I am definitely taking your advice next time, I do not want to repeat those things again.”

"Well, I’m just glad you’ll finally be able to get over him. Though there’s a party happening, it's the birthday party of some girl, but everyone’s invited, so wanna come with me and Utahime?” She asked, though she was a bit nervous if you rejected the offer, knowing it’d either be because of Suguru or you just don’t want to go.

“Oh, really? Uhm… you know why not?" You said after thinking about it in your mind for a bit.

"Okay, that’s great. I’m sure they’ll be umm guys for you or whatever you like." Shoko said trying to coax you into coming with her and Utahime

"Yeah, after what happened, maybe not, but if I feel like it, I’ll definitely come with you guys.”

“Hah! Come” Shoko laughed at your words before settling down.

“Shut up”

—

11:31 pm

It was already late at night while you were watching a movie after not being able to sleep and having been worried if the girls would need a ride home. So you decided to watch whatever movie seemed interesting to you. Your phone rang, thinking it was Shoko or Utahime. You grabbed it and answered, not stopping to check the contact name.

“Shoko? Utahime?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Satoru, not whoever you’re calling out to.” He said softly to you after hearing the worry in your voice.

“Oh, it’s you?” You said taking your phone away from your ear to see his contact name, ‘Weirdo🐇’

“Yes, I was calling to see if you hadn’t slept yet.”

"Well, I haven't, so is that all?”

“No! Uhm, I mean no. Anyway, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight.”

"Uhm, I’m not sure about that.”

“Pretty please? I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

"Fine, I’ll come; just you pick me up. I don’t feel like driving.”

“Got it, princess.”

—

Gojo hummed while he walked to your door, knocking on it, waiting for you to answer. You opened the door a bit surprised, forgetting that he was coming to pick you up.

“I completely forgot that you were coming.”

“Have you really forgotten me so easily, sweetheart?” He said, acting dramatic and putting his hand over his heart as if he were truly hurt by your words.

“Yes.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, you’re a liar.”

“I know, I could never hate my future wife.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment while you closed the door behind yourself. His hand grabbed onto yours, leading you into the car and opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman, hm?” You hummed getting inside the car.

“Of course, why would I ever treat less than you deserve?” The door closed while he walked to the driver's seat.

“Do you want to stop anywhere before we go to my place?”

“Uhm, no, I’m fine; we can just go.”

“Yes, ma’am. Though do you want any music playing?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Alright”

He continued driving while you kept your gaze on the road, turning your head to your window to watch as you both passed buildings. He looked at you while the light was red. Seeing if it was alright to hold onto your hand, you shook your head. You weren’t yet ready to start with another guy; your heart was still recovering from Geto. He nodded as you declined with a shake of your head, and he put both of his hands back on the steering wheel.

Finally, after a couple minutes, he arrived at his place. He opened your door as per usual. His hand led you inside the house while he locked his car and closed the door behind the both of you. He turned on the lights so he could see you more clearly and also so neither of you would run into something by accident.

“So what do you want to do, sweetheart? Watch a movie? Or do we want to bake something together?”

"Mm, you know what baking something sounds like?”

“Alright, what should we bake?” He said turning on the kitchen lights and heading to his pantry, which was stoked up on a lot of junk food, though he had some healthy things.

“I hope you actually have a healthy diet, but uhm, I’m not sure. Maybe a cake or cupcakes?” You said after having glanced inside his pantry.

"Oh, don’t worry, I do, but uhm, we can do both if you want to.”

“Really? Can we do both?” You said, smiling happily at his words.

“Yeah, of course, anything for my sweet girl.”

"Okay, but if you play careless whisper, I’m out." You said it jokingly while he frowned at your words.

“You wouldn’t dare, and I was going to play it, y'know, be romantic again.”

“Oh yeah, definitely you had me on my knees.”

He chuckled, smiling at your words. His smile was beautiful; gosh, if you hadn't known any better, you would’ve thought he was an angel.

"Yup, I did.” He said, finally grabbing the ingredients for you and him to make the cake and cupcakes.

"Totally.” You giggled before helping him out with grabbing a bowl and a whisk. He hummed, pulling you closer to him.

“What’s with you?” You said look as his hand wrapped around your waist.

“Can’t I be romantic? I mean, you’re going to be my future girlfriend.”

"Yeah, calm down, mister, it's not going to happen.” You said, patting his shoulder before focusing your attention back onto making the cupcakes.

“Well, I’ll work on the cupcakes, and you can make the cake.”

"Alright, I got it, ma’am.” He said moving away and starting to work on the cake.

"Great, now it better look decent.” you said, starting to grab the eggs out of the fridge for the both of you.

“Of course I'll try my absolute hardest to make it look as pretty as you.”

He said, cracking the egg against the edge of the bowl, letting the egg fall into the bowl. His movements continued, and you watched him. You liked the way he looked, the way he spoke to you kindly, his beautiful diamond eyes, and most of all, the way he treated you.

“Princess? Are you okay? You’re staring at me." His said his tone soft while he seemed concerned. You shook your head no and focused on making your cupcakes.

“Wanna listen to some music?” He said, looking at you before his gaze focused back on the bowl with the batter.

“Can we listen to Heavenly?” You said focusing on your own batter of cupcakes.

He smiled at your words and then spoke with that soft tone he always used when speaking to you. “Cigarettes After Sex? I would’ve never known.”

“Well, Alexa? Play Heavenly by Cigarettes After Sex.”

"Well, I just like it. It sounds nice to me. It’s kind of calming or peaceful.”

—

After having baked and waiting for the cake and cupcakes to cool down, Satoru ate some then went to bed. Although there he was watching over you while you slept like a guardian angel, he loved looking at your peaceful face. He knew you were home, and he hoped whichever spiritual being existed that they blessed him with having you in his arms. Gosh, how he longed to feel you in his arms; he’d treated you beautifully like a queen; no man would ever hurt you in his presence.

You shifted in your sleep, causing one strand of hair to cover your face. He hated that, so he moved it and tucked it behind your ear. He smiled as you moved and tried to get warmed under the blankets. He kissed your forehead and went back to his own bedroom to fall asleep thinking about you.

—

You were back at home, and Shoko was asking you all types of questions, asking who you were with last night. She seemed eager to know who interested you so much you stayed overnight. Although you kept dismissing her questions and got ready to go out to the mall together, she was already ready, and so was Utahime.

“Come on? Answer me” Shoko said, obviously impatient, and she had to know which man it was and if he was a good man to you.

“Shoko, he’s just a friend.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at your stupid words. “Ha! You expect me to believe that bullshit?”

“Fine, he may or may not be someone who’s interested in being with me." The words came out of your mouth softly and too quickly for her to fully understand, but it clicked soon enough.

“Is he a good man? No more Suguru situation, right?

“Yeah no. He’s uhm something.” You said a bit nervous; you still weren’t sure what you classified your relationship or friendship as.”

 

“That’s great, gosh, am I glad it’s not some toxic guy? Anyway, come on, let's go to the mall now.”

 

—

 

Shoko and Utahime were looking at jewelry, and you wandered off still near them, but instead you entered another store and looked around. It was a candy store where you wanted to see if they had anything you liked, so you kept looking around till you finally found something you liked. You grabbed it and looked for anything else, grabbing other things. You went up to the cashier and bought your candy.

 

Finally, Shoko and Utahime came back after Shoko bought Utahime a necklace. You left the store and went into another to see if you wanted any clothing.

 

"Oh, this would look great if you tried it on.” Utahime said sweetly to you, and you listened, going into the changing rooms while they followed and sat on one of the benches. You changed and looked in the mirror. You looked nice just as Utahime said you would; you opened the door, and Utahime nodded. 

 

“You have to get it. It looks beautiful on you.” She smiled, and Shoko nodded, agreeing with her girlfriend.

 

“Really? You think so?” 

 

You went into the changing room, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked lovely, but at that moment you didn’t think of that but how Satoru would react to the dress.

 

“Maybe your ‘friend’ will love it.” Shoko said, making air quotes while saying friend.

 

“Shut up.” 

 

She shrugged as she kept speaking. “The truth hurts.” 

 

"Well, we can leave after this because that should be all for us, right?”

 

“You we’re done.”

 

—

 

Utahime and Shoko had long left to go out together for a date while you texted for Satoru to come over. 

 

You: Wanna come to my place, Gojo?”

 

Weirdo🐇: Yeah, that’d be lovely.

 

You: Okay, come over now.

 

Gojo🐇🎀: So demanding, sweetheart.

 

You: I’ll see you in a bit.

 

Gojo🐇🎀: Okay, bye, honey.

—

He made himself comfortable on the sofa while you both watched a movie. You decided to watch a kids movie. He didn't mind at all if anything; he found it adorable that you would want to watch such a thing with him, and you must’ve been comfortable to watch such things as Sleeping Beauty. A blanket was draped over the both of you while you leaned a bit closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you and kept you close to his chest.

 

“Why is the beginning so long?” You hummed as the beginning was a bit too long for your liking and also because you were impatient.

 

“Just wait, princess. I promise you’ll like this movie.” 

 

"Mhm, I will." You hummed, focusing back onto the screen, the fairies appearing and giving Aurora one gift. The singing was nice and peaceful. You loved the way it was made; although it was years ago, it was your second time watching after forgetting what happened when you watched it for the very first time. 

 

 

He nodded and kissed your forehead while still focusing on the movie. You tucked yourself deeper into the blankets, sleep overtook you slowly but surely, and you got tired. Satoru noticed your sleepiness and smiled. He let you doze off; you closed your eyes and opened them, drifting in and out of consciousness.

 

He chuckled and kept you closer soon enough; your head lay against his chest fully, and you were asleep. He turned the TV off and carried you into your bedroom, laying you under your blankets.

 

"Satoru, don’t leave." You mumbled sleepily, and you grabbed onto his arm. He seemed conflicted but nodded and got into bed with you. He held you close enough that you were practically molded together. 

 

You smiled, and he closed his eyes, finally falling asleep with you in his arms.

—

It was 7:30 am, and Satoru was still in bed with you snoring softly and his leg thrown over your body. It felt somewhat suffocating, but it was fine; you didn’t mind one bit. The only thing on your mind at the moment was how pretty he looked over the night. You had changed positions, and you could see his pretty face. You moved closer to him, and his arms instinctively wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to his chest.

 

“Oh princess?” He said a bit groggily he had just woken up and his eyes opened, taking a bit to adjust to the light peeking from your blinds.

 

“Yes?” You said while he moved one of his hands away from you and clasped it with yours.

 

“Nothing; you’re so pretty." You smiled at his kind words, cuddling ever closer if it was even possible to do so.

 

“Wait, how come you’re in my bed?” 

 

“Last night you asked me to sleep with you; not that way, just sleep.”

 

“And you stayed?” You said a bit taken aback he had listened to you, although you were half asleep while saying it.

 

“Should I go? No, yeah, I totally should’ve let you sleep." He seemed a bit nervous and scared to hear that you were weirded out by him.

 

“No, stay, Satoru; you're like my personal heater.

[ghcstao3]

Price survived the sarin gas inhalation but it benched him for quite some time so Ghost had to take over the CO's responsibilities.

so now Gaz joins Ghost and Soap on missions and is forced to listen to their horrible jokes on comms.

but one day Soap says something so smutty to Ghost that Kyle is convinced Soap's days are numbered but to his utter surprise Ghost rolls with it.

Gaz suspects that Soap's and Ghost's bond is deeper than they let on.

don’t worry, happens to the best of us haha. love this idea btw im so sorry it took me so long to get to it 😭

-

Gaz has seen and heard… a lot during his time in the military.

From having witnessed the much more traumatic gore and destruction and men gone mad with power to the decidedly less impactful crude jokes and stupid things soldiers get up to in their downtime, Gaz doesn’t think much could surprise him anymore.

As it would turn out, however, there’d been one thing that he’d left unaccounted for: his lieutenant and fellow sergeant’s flirting.

Now, he’s heard Ghost’s awful jokes before. He’s heard the offhand teases and ‘buy me a drink first’s, but without Price as the voice of authority, Gaz discovers that there is far, far worse to be said between the two of them—specifically by Soap.

The team’s first mission without Price, with the captain still in early recovery, Gaz gets the general sense of testing the waters. The mission itself goes off without a hitch—they couldn’t call themselves an elite task force for nothing—but the comments not meant for Gaz but still said over comms are certainly… something. Bordering on raunchy. But it’s fine, whatever, Gaz has heard far worse from soldiers who aren’t even friends, let alone whatever Ghost and Soap are.

The second mission is already worse.

Soap seems to have taken Ghost’s silence as permission to continue with his over-the-top flirting, and Gaz has already begun to worry at what point it becomes too much. At what point Soap will cross the line, and at what point Gaz will have to figure out what to wear to his friend’s funeral.

The second mission, none of the above occurs. They all make it out alive and with minimal injuries—though Gaz could argue his brain has already been scarred by what Soap seems to deem appropriate to say to his lieutenant.

It’s the same thing for their next few outings. Price is doing better but is still out of commission, and Gaz cannot wait until he’s back, it’s started to get so bad. He’s heard more than he wishes to forget. He thinks it’d do him well to have his mind erased, scrubbed clean of Ghost and Soap’s worsening banter, but alas.

But up until this point, anyway, he’s chalked it all up to the lack of Price in their ears not letting them get away with the awfully filthy talk and increasingly terrible jokes.

Gaz is fearing for his own life when it happens.

Mercifully, Price is green-lighted to go back into the field at some point during the task force’s current mission, so Gaz has been counting down the days until finally, finally someone with a voice of higher authority than Ghost’s can cut through the line and tell them to either knock it off or keep it to their own channel.

They’re almost in the clear, Gaz thinks, and just as he does is when Soap says something that no way in hell Ghost should be tolerating.

“—bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, LT? Havin’ me on my knees, cryin’ and beggin’ for mercy?”

Honestly, it isn’t the worst Soap has said these past few months. Not by far. But it’s the directness and very clear implication of what he means that sets Gaz on edge—because surely, surely even Soap couldn’t possibly outright proposition Ghost with a blowjob and not be reprimanded for it.

Yet for some reason, Ghost’s response is not keep it tactical, but rather, “Ask nicely and you might get it the other way ‘round.”

Gaz isn’t sure how to move on normally from hearing that, but he manages, somehow. The only good thing to have come from Ghost’s reciprocation is that it manages to make Soap go quiet for the remainder of the mission, unless there’s something critical to be mentioned.

It doesn’t click for Gaz right away, too focused on the mission and figuring out the most effective method of brain-bleaching, but hopping off the heli back at base and watching Soap drag Ghost off to god knows where is certainly telling of something that he’d missed all this time.

He’d bring up to Price later, he thinks. The captain ought to know if Ghost and Soap were really a thing—and if not yet, well.

They probably would be soon enough.

[septemberlikestea]

yknow if if the iron crown had found its king upon MY furrowed brow things would be different. im built different. my mental illness wouldnt seep out and turn my mind inside out to project my flaws onto the world.

[neon-danger]

hello tunglr, this week a guy I told I didn’t want to see anymore followed my Instagram

Again

[kaeyapilled]

So with the hangout.. do you think that settles the issue of mistranslation or not of Kaeya and Diluc being brothers?

is it even possible to settle it? i feel like there must be some insane cultural difference between me as a western person and chinese people when it comes to adoptive siblings because, i honestly don't see how the biological son of the guy you consider your adoptive father isn't, by extension, your adoptive brother; how would that relationship not be familial? even when you bring in the "sworn brothers" trope as a means of queercoding, which is a concept ive had explained to me more than once – like, okay? i agree that it's true you can't properly translate/localize that, but. how else did you want them to translate it? even if the word brother was never used once in the eng translation, how do you make it so that kaeya and diluc calling the same guy "father" doesn't imply some uncomfortable things if he and diluc are romantically involved..? but then, who knows, maybe i just don't have enough knowledge about how censorship works in china, how they do queercoding over there, how they deal with adopted relationships, whatever. it's fine. different cultural upbringings, no? it's funny when it's the western side of the fandom discussing this, though. because you'll have these extremely white people arguing with you about the intricacies of chinese BL media. as if either of us knows what the hell we're talking about. anyway, none of this matters in the end because most klc shippers just... like the incest. and the day we stop arguing about mistranslations and simply accept that people either 1) see this relationship in a different light due to their cultural background or 2) are a little bit of a freak online is the day i will finally know peace as a kaeya fan

[mashmouths]

is it an adhd thing to need to reinvent the concept of a study space so you have any chance of actually studying or just a facet of being alive that no one warned me about

[toastsnaffler]

I love to talk but I rly do feel like we have to be talking for a minimum of 8 hours straight before I feel like I can even begin to rly broach things on my mind or that have been bothering me a lot that I actually want to talk abt without being vague or deflecting or omitting or lying and if the conversation takes a break at any point it resets back to 0 and its still nice regardless but.

[screampied]

ʚ BUBBLE, POP, ELECTRIC ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. it’s your birthday and your sugar daddy takes you on a spree to the mall. perhaps buying a new set of panties with his initials engraved on it to tease him wasn’t the brightest idea. get in loser, you’re going shopping.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, semi-public risky themes, dry humping, implied multiple rounds, lots of praise, squırting, fıngering, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving), dirty talk, brēeding, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

“a- anything?”

“anything, darlin,” satoru hums with a teasing smile, burying both hands into his pockets. your face lit up as he happily slides his black card into your palm. it had a glinting shine to it, your eyes gape at the sixteen digit code plastered on the front with his full name in bold, ‘satoru gojo.’ the both of you stood near the center of a busy, packed mall. it was an ordinary hot friday, and since it was also your birthday, he decided why not let you pick your special gift. the older man leans down, planting a kiss against your forehead. “go crazy, yeah? ‘s your day, gorgeous. the pricier, the better. buy something that’ll be easy ‘ta tear off. oh, i mean uh— buy something pretty, heh.”

you felt a wave of heat burn over you. you could never, never get enough his praises. satoru’s eyes remain on you as you clutch on one of the many purses he bought you. “toru, you don’t have to.”

“shh, you’re my baby,” he reassures you, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling the palm of his hand caress circles against your back. he feels the thin straps of your top glue against your skin. his cologne, it was forevermore intoxicating. in a husky low tone, satoru whispers. “i wanna spoil you extra hard today,” and you gasp, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. “what do ya say, sweets? i heard victoria’s secret has a few new deals goin’ on right now, heh.”

you spent the next good hour shopping, going to any store that just so happened to pique your fancy. you told gojo that you’d save victoria’s secret for last, and he nodded.

of course, he tagged along with you. like the gentleman he was, he carried your weighty bags for you like they were nothing.

“gonna run me for my money, huh sweets?” he snickers, an arm slinging around your shoulder as you stood beside him on the escalator. as it slowly took you both upstairs—you let off a tiny exhale. you were preparing to go toward the second floor of the mall.

with a coy smile, you brush a thumb against the edges of your skirt. “o- oh, sorry ‘toru,” and you knew he was teasing, he’d buy you the world if he could. he was stood so close next to you that you could almost always get a good whiff of his loud scent. “didn’t mean to get so much stuff.”

“sweetheart, i’m joking you know that,” he hums, stepping back to let you get off the moving escalator first. it was so packed, dozens of people walking around each part of the centre. it was full of chatter and laughter. a whirring breeze sets against your skin as he steps beside you, leaning down to plant a kiss near your forehead. “tired out yet? or do ya have more pretty stuff ‘ta buy?”

speaking of pretty, satoru gojo was the prettiest.

he stood out in the mall—he was an elite businessman but people were smart enough to not disturb him while he’s spending time with you.

so classy, he was always wearing the finest richest suits, preferably black or white ones. long, stretched out slacks to show off his legs and his hair. gojo’s hair was always neatly done, as he aged he usually settled with a parted style, a visible undercut to run his fingers through to pass time.

thin white bangs would run down his eyes a few times—occluding his vision. gojo would often find himself digging his hands into his pockets as he happily watches you drain his wallet.

“we can go get some lingerie now,” you murmur out, hearing some random pop song blare through the mall’s speakers.

“we? aw, am i gettin’ dolled up too?”

he peers at you as your expression twists to abashed embarrassment. gojo chuckles, a soft thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly. “you’re so cute, i’m teasing. let’s go then, lead the way princess.”

you ended up getting at least three new sets, including the brand new panties gojo’s been rambling to you about nonstop.

he told you how he’s recently got a partnership with the store.

a million dollar partnership at that — his new ‘satoru gojo’ limited edition panties were finally launched, and at first the idea of his name on underwear made him grouse. thanks to gojo’s hefty contribution to the company, they’ve gained a lot of new customers over the past summer. but, the moment you pick them out with a cute curious smile, he only cared about how you’d like them. so far, he’s heard from the reviews of buyers that it was quite soft, cottony and synthetic.

waterproof also, and gojo being gojo brought that specific fact up to you about a dozen times.

“can i open my eyes now, darlin'?” a low, husky yet playful voice calls out. gojo sat manspread in the dressing room, awaiting for you to show the final results of the product. “mhh, ‘s kinda dangerous to jus’ let my imagination roam, you know.”

“hold on, satoru.” you roll your eyes, slipping on the panties. they were really pretty, they fit perfectly and had tiny blue bows on the side.

you spun around near the nearby mirror, taking in your figure. it had a thong yet bikini type shape to them. stretchy and all, not to mention it was very comfortable—not too tight whatsoever. right on the back, you spot the infamous letters that were sewn in bedazzled rhinestones, front ‘n center.

‘ satoru gojo, ’

you felt a brew of heat tickle its way down your thighs before you strut toward the white haired man. even sitting down, he’s so attractive. long legs stretch themselves out as he’s laid back against the concrete wall. he’s surrounded by colorful bent hangers, the dressing room was spacey enough. as he sat on the bench, he taps his foot. “baby, i can feel you lookin’ at me. are ya done?”

“yeah,” you utter, slowly removing his hands away from his eyes. “you can look now.”

it takes him a moment to register the sight — you stand still, feeling his cerulean blue eyes awe at your beauty.

oh, your curves, his blown irises linger everywhere so intently that it makes you feel small in the best way. your heart’s thumps accelerate as he’s got a growing smug smile curling against his pink lips.

“oh my,” he purrs out, a hand cupping under his chin. his expensive g-shock shimmers against the luminescent ceiling light as also he gently pulls his bottom lip down. his stare makes you nervous and you don’t even know why. “spin around for me.”

you do, twirling your body slowly and his eyes get a front view of your ass. you still wore your blouse, feeling his gaze burn into your rear.

“goddamn,” and you let off a soft breath, feeling his hands gingerly creep up against your thighs. “you look gorgeous in anything,” he whispers, inching his lips toward your backside. gojo then drags his twitching, crooked lips toward the left cheek of your ass. it smooches against the lace fabric, a thumb stroking the letters of his own name. “i’ll buy this entire brand just to see you walk around ‘n these for me, sweetheart.”

“satoru don’t do that,” you protest, gasping once he parts your legs open a bit. with you, his touch was always gentle. he couldn’t ever keep his hands off of you though. his strokes continue to roam, and that’s when he playfully bites your ass cheek. “h- hey!”

“sorry, baby,” he chuckles, giving it a soft teasing smack. gojo hears you whine out in need before he turns you back around. “mhh, don’t give me that pout. come give ‘toru some sugar instead.”

your heart always flutters whenever he says that, those sweet words never fail to strike right into your heart. churning the pit insides of your stomach that’s already packed with butterflies swarming everywhere.

as you slowly make your way toward him, tantalizingly, he cocks his head to the right.

“don’t be shy, i won’t bite today,” he flashes you a soft toothy grin, patting his lap for you to take your favorite seat. wasting no time, you sit on his lap, your bare skin brushing up against his loose fitted slacks. “good girl,” and his hands meet your waist. zeroing his eyes down your sweet physique, he strokes your bottom lip. “closer.”

the moment you finally close the distance, your lips press against his. a cheeky smile curls against his mouth — a groan shortly following out of his throat, betraying his playful demeanor. you moan, finding it impossible to not move a bit against him. as you gradually grind against his lap, delving your tongue between his, he lets off a sharp breath. “mhm,” pretty snowy lashes of his shut tight, fluttering as he’s poking a single thumb against your hip. gojo tastes sweet, sweeter than he’s ever been. peppermint lives on his tongue, running against your tastebuds and with utmost grace, you relish in it. the flavor, its additive and his touch wasn’t helping. a raspy groan slithers into your mouth once your grinding speeds up, the bottom part of your panties grazes against his secret growing boner and he huffs.

“f- fuck, baby,” he snarls, breaking away from the kiss to look down. there, he spots it. he was indeed hard, he’s been hard this entire time you’ve been splurging hefty amounts on his black card. the moment you gave him a little show of the sediment panties, that was the final straw. “you’re such a tease, y’know,” and you gasp once he slides a lengthy finger toward the cottony fabric. “ooh, is someone already a mess? lemme see ya.”

and as you’re just barely hovering over his lap, legs sprawled apart for him, he swipes the fat print of his thumb inside. “s- satoruuu.” you hiss out, the last syllable of his name elongated and cutely dramatic. a bit loud, you had to remind yourself the two of you were in a store. indeed, you were soaked already. part of you thinks it was because of his showering praises.

every time he calls you a ‘good girl’ or his ‘pretty girl’ you felt the stickiness between your thighs dampen. it was just embarrassing.

“can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ this mess this entire time,” the white haired man almost pouts, a tone of playfulness humming underneath his tone. two of his fingers poke their way between the middle part of your panties, prodding against your soppy pussy. “oh, look at that. so fuckin’ nasty,” and cunning blue eyes flicker straight at you, making you gulp in ignominy. “sweetheart, you do know i gotta pay for this. did ya forget?”

“o- oh.” and reality hits you again. he was right, you were soaking panties that weren’t even bought yet.

you could feel yourself dripping, a little damp spot forming its way against the woolen linen.

“yeah, oh,” he mocks your cute surprised word, easing a single thumb past your slit. it’s swollen, he feels the eager twitch of it and your legs rock back in lewd rapture. “awh, how cute. you want my thumb, princess?”

“y- yes,” you whine, tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. the man eyes you with a haughty expression, continuing to flick the edge of his thumb in and out of your puffed clit. the panties were still on and you clenched your jaw before letting off a needy sigh. “take them off, ‘toru. please.”

he gives you a long stare before humming. “nah,” and a pout twines against your glossed lips. with his right hand, it grips your ass, his thumb resuming to fondle your skin before it tenderly starts to go in. “silly girl. panties are for wearing,” he teases, and your lips part themselves open once he successfully eases his way inside. you’re already so sloppy, spiraling all underneath his fingers. a white brow of gojo’s crimps into an intrigued furrow before he buries his nose into your neck. “ah, ah. don’t hold back those moans, let me hear that pretty voice.”

“but- we’re in public.”

“i won’t be crazy this time, i promise sweets, heh.”

total lie,

he says he won’t be crazy yet here you were bent over, face shoved into the wall, legs all parted. you moan, feeling his tongue dip straight into your cunt, slurping a loooong suck of your honeyed sweet. your thighs weakly tremble a bit at the teasing sensation of his stubble gracefully bristling against your skin. your cheek presses up on the glass of the other mirror that sits up against the wall. “f- fuuuuck.” you whimper out, toes curling up in utter ecstasy. his tongue, it was always so messy. messy and long, you whimper out once he dives straight in.

dipping in and out, no manners whatsoever. he’s nose deep, lolling it out all the way until he’s shamelessly drooling down your drizzling folds.

even still,

your panties were still on the entire time — they were lazily pulled to the side. with his eyes closed, he’s letting his tongue wander everywhere. you whine, digging the edges of your teeth into your bawled up fist. “arch more baby,” he whispers, hot breath ghosting right against your cunt. the store was blasting obnoxiously loud music, you hoped no one would walk in, hoped no one would see. the door was closed but still. once he watches your back obediently raise up at his command, he hums, nibbling right against your cunt. “atta girl, gimme that arch, uh huh.”

gojo groans, eating you out from behind, using a single hand to make your legs spread just a bit further. the continuous squeaks that pours out your lips makes him ten times harder than he already was. “ngh, t- toru,” you start to huff, feeling a crushing pull yank its way at your lungs. your breathing only started to get more crazed. as he’s spelling out the ten different letters of his name. you whine out a sobbing mewl, feeling the way his tongue curls once he flicks a sweet ‘s’ in your pussy. the swirl — your back only arches more, the skin of your cheek practically glued against the mirror. “ohmygodd.”

“y’r so fuckin’ hot,” he purrs out, and you’re so busy focused on his tongue that you didn’t even realize he had two fingers shoved inside you already. they’re so long, they reach into the very caves of your walls, specific spots that you didn’t even know could be located. with a swift motion, his fingertips curl around your cunt, feeling the gripping squeeze. “mhm, that’s it. bare around ‘em just like that,” and he’s making out with your cunt, giving it multiple french kisses. your legs were so close to giving up, you could feel that same annoying smile rub against your pussy. as your lip shivers, you start to breath heavier.

puffing and huffing . . heaving as you let off the same pathetic whimpers for more, more of his sloppy tongue.

he slurps everywhere, making sure to not miss a single spot. gojo sucks against your clitoral hood, knowing just how sensitive that spot made you. as you’re coating not only his fingers but his chin at the same time with your sheeny juices, you couldn’t help but swallow your pity. “i- i’m gonna cum,” you moan, a hand of yours reaching behind to grab onto his head. it lands near the top, gripping onto his strands and shoving him further into your pussy. “satoru, agh,” and you had to cup a hand over your mouth, growing paranoid once your heard a few people right outside your stall.

shit, shit, shit,

all you heard from gojo was that same raspy chuckle as he pumps in his two fingers inside your pussy with the most presumptuous grin on his face. as he’s bent on his knees, his chin was soaked with your slick.

every few seconds, he pries himself off to breathe and clean the lower part of his chiseled face with his tongue. “c’mon, baby. wait a little f’r me,” and his tepid breath repeatedly fans against your fevered skin. the pleasure — the pulsation, you were found with your legs spread and jaw dropped. so close, you could merely taste a salty tang that’s forming on your sugared tastebuds.

satoru gojo was a eater, and he could eat you all day if he really really wanted. your pout from his words makes him laugh. he spots your dumb expressions through the mirror propped up directly in front of you before he starts to spit on your cunt. “ugh, look at her. always so shiny ‘n slick,” and with bright eyes, he stares at the way his saliva trickles down your puckering hole. “ooh,” gojo breaks his mouth away again, lustrous cobwebs of spit dripping down his lips. frantically, you were shaking once he suddenly stopped. as his two fingers still plugged inside of your pussy, he gives the outer part of your entrance teasing pecks. “such a wet girl. listen to her with me, sweetheart.”

“s— fuckk, ‘toru,” you babble out, a sharp swat of his free palm hitting against your ass. suddenly, the cramped up dressing room felt hot. blazing, and yet, your thighs were even hotter. with your lips betraying themselves, curling into a circular shape in pleasure, you barely could make yourself stand still. “pleaseplease.”

“no, baby,” he gifts your cunt it’s final kiss, one of his hands running down your thighs. you had glossy slick racing down and he takes the opportunity to lap it right up with his tongue. “only sound i wanna hear is this pretty pussy talkin’ back to me. let’s hear what she’s got ‘ta say.”

the sounds of your own cunt was so lewd. it’s crying squelching rings and reverberates off the walls.

abruptly, you grow quiet and he hums, slowly dragging out his two long fingers before you gush out straight away.

your eyes were as wide as saucers, electric shocking currents travel through every part of your body as you come undone on his tongue. as you whine into your palm, your eyebrows come together into a furrow.

“mph,” you whimper, feeling your thighs shake. it’s so much that within seconds, you feel yourself spraying against his tongue until you couldn’t anymore. it felt like your life flashed before your eyes. the tenderness of it all was almost too much to bare. as you’re still violently shaking on his pink twitching muscle, gojo spreads your ass apart, growing drunk at your taste before he chuckles against your clit - teeth nibbling against your sensitive, puffed folds.

“my baby’s velocity just gets better ‘n better,” he snickers, giving your right ass cheek a frisky kiss.

as he stands up again, he faces you — watching as your eyes were all droopy ‘n hooded.

“c’mere,” and you felt your cunt throb as you fall into his touch, pressing your lips right back against him. right away, your tongue gets met with the taste of yourself on him. you tasted sweet, he’s always described you as sweet anyway. gojo groans, lifting up your thigh before making you lie back. “good girl. ‘s just you ‘n me. let me spoil you today, princess.”

glancing down, you spot his slacks that were just barely hanging on. they were half on, dark blue boxers clinging onto his perfectly sculptured waistline. you spot a bit of a peeking white happy trail that’s curly — sticking against his skin.

“s- satoru,” you pant, pawing your hands at his already open fly. he ogles at you, popping the two wet fingers that were stuffed into your cunt literally just a few seconds ago right into his mouth. you watch, growing more aroused as he sucks on his digits right in front of you.

“satoru what, baby?” he leans down, springing out his cock. it was quick, he fishes through his boxers before whipping it out, wrapping a single bare hand around his fat length. giving it a few pumps, a thumb of his swipes against his pulsing vein and he groans. with a snarl, he bites into your neck. “you don’t wanna wait ‘till we get home, huh?”

“no,” you whimper, and he lets you take control a bit.

with shaky hands, you make him sit flat against his back, a cute shove goes against his chest and he huffs. “want you, ‘toru,” and he smiles at how out of breath you were, still trying to overcome your more recent, nirvana filled high. as you get on his lap, straddling him, you lean right up to the older man’s face. “please.”

he returns your lust-filled gaze, a hand of his creeping toward the curvature of your ass. “such a sweet girl. with manners like that, i could never say no,” he coos to you, helping you align your entrance against his reddened tip. with your panties still on, string passively pulled toward the crevices of your thighs, you whine. “there’s that sweet ‘lil moan,” he brings you closer toward his neck. the veins that ran down his cock pulse even quicker. “mhm, c’mon sweets,” he playfully pulls your hands away from your face. “i wanna see those eyes roll back. don’t be shy, ride me girl.”

and as he’s careful to sink you down on his cock, your legs wrap around his slim waist like a vice.

a hand of yours tugs onto his tie, giving it a little forceful pull. gojo’s hair was all ruffled — white strands everywhere, you had him a mess and right where you wanted.

whenever you straddled him like this, you always took his breath away and that hungry gaze you always give him, fuck you were dangerous.

intaking a sharp, deep breath, he’s halfway in now. gojo’s so thick and bulky that it feels like he’s fully in.

balls fucking deep,

a whimper pulls out of your vocal cords as his tip kisses your sweet swollen insides. his own eyelashes were half-lidded and he’s panting right with you, frigid cold band of his watch rubbing off against your skin. the saturated squelches of your pussy were so loud, he holds onto your hips before a pussy drink grin tugs against both corners of his lips. “attaaaa girl. move those hips, ride me good, birthday girl.”

the friction was so delicious, so appetizing..

you were barely moving but you felt like you were gonna screw up and cream all down his shaft. with your face still burying itself into the crook of his neck, your hips finally start to adapt to some sort of steady rhythm. gojo huskily grunts, feeling the welcoming grip your cunt gifts him every time he goes inside. the elastic stretch always makes him short circuit. as his blushing tip thrashes its way inside, your hips roll and it’s only then that you start to sloppily lurch against his lap.

“t- toruuu,” you sob out in a sweet broken syllable, your own words sticking against your tongue. strong, built arms hold you upright as you’re making steady haste. the music of the store seems to get louder and you don’t even care if you get caught anymore.

with the way his cockhead’s smooching up against your sweet spot, you’re already dumb, stupid ‘n hungry for more of your beloved sugar daddy. your whines always ghost right up against his earlobe, falling on deaf ears every time. your sweet, carnal sounds makes his dick twitch. the electric pulse surges through your cunt and you feel it — shivering, glancing at him and he shoots you a flashy, sheepish grin. “yeah, ‘s okay baby. doin’ so good for me.”

even still, you’re adjusting to his size. the big stretch has your lips parted and circular, moans spilling out of your lips again and again until you were a broken record.

every single time, gojo’s cock extends inside of you through and through. it’s like it comes natural to him. no matter how many times he’d please you, you’d always end up getting a bit more stretched out than the last time.

a constant lewd loop,

“s— satoru,” you start to whine again, swiveling your hips against him. he’s seated down on the bench, taking in your body and the way your breasts bounce. he can’t help but snatch a feel, bringing a hand toward your left mound, squeezing two fingers against your nipples. with your frilly blouse still on, he’s just tugging against fabric but you start feel the familiar incoming shockwaves of pleasure. you let off a tiny squeal, head tossing back and your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “ngh, ‘toru. ‘m sensitive.”

“baby you’re always sensitive,” he teases.

lowering his head down between your neglected tits, gojo pulls up your blouse and leisurely slides his tongue down the sheeny crack of your chest. you’ve got a bit of a glow, probably from your recent teeth shattering orgasm. “mhm, look at my girls. they get prettier every time i see ‘em,” and as you’re still swaying your hips against him, he pops out one of your tits from your bra, sucking against the tender skin. you whimper over and over, he can barely get a good solid suck from the constant movement of your hips. you’re jittery, repeatedly moving back and forth against him, about to erupt as if your cunt was a volcano. “thaaat’s my girl, always taste so sweet.”

you ruffle his hair a bit as he’s latching his mouth against one of your sore nipples. the mobility of your hips so sloppy and unstable. he tends to each nipple, latching his wet lips against the sore mounds before slobbering all over it. as you’re grinding against him in an alluring manner, your eyes start to roll back. “toru, ngh. ‘s fuckin’ big,” you squeak out in a tiny mewl, your voice entirely small.

you’re moving so much that he could barely keep up, burying his face into your chest. his hot breath tickles against your skin — it’s feverish, sending a multitude of shivers to race down your spine.

he grunts in annoyance at your bra in the way, snatching it down to properly attach his plump lips against your neglected nipples. gojo sucked until they were all sore ‘n swollen, madly pulsating from the salacious stimulation. he eyes you with a teasing simper, a crinkle informing underneath his eye as he licks up his saliva dripping down the bare valley of your chest.

“y’r always a perfect fit though,” he whispers, another groan leaving out of his throat. as he’s leaning back again, allowing you to continue riding him, you’re just completely dumbfounded.

irises were dilated, lungs were full, toes curled.

you moan once he spanks your ass at the feeling of your hips slowing down, his way of encouraging you to keep at it. with your frilly blouse pulled up, he gawks at your body and admires how you match his crazed tempo, rolling and mirroring the same amounts of rickety.

“my fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, a hand sliding down your ass again, spanking it again. “uh huuuh,” his tongue slides against his lips, averting his gaze at your seductive looking hips. “just like that, sweetheart. niiiice ‘n slow, ‘toru’s not going anywhere.”

as you’re jerking forward against him, constantly bouncing against his thickset, bulky base — your jaw hangs wide open. he��s reached your sweet spot, it’s out of nowhere and you feel a bundle of nerves scream all through out you. your limbs were getting weary, and as your arms wrap around his shoulders, you nibble on his chin. “satoru, satoru, f— fuuuuck.”

he chuckles, watching as both of your eyes close tight, feeling one of your hands slither its way inside of his dress shirt. “hm,” he looks down, and your fingertips feel against his chiseled washboard abs. your pace was relentless, and with the feeling of just how ripped he was, you felt that same twitch arise in your cunt again. “fuck yeah, baby. touch me anywhere you like. this body ‘s all yours,” and you moan from his provocative words, still moving back and forth. gojo’s scent made itself well known throughout the entire dressing room. his abs instinctively clench from your gentle yet tender touch. “make me feel so good.”

“i- i do?” you moan, his words alone sending you a plethora of spine-chilling chills everywhere. they linger for a long time before you feel yourself starting to tighten. you were hungry for his approval, his praise — anything.

“yes, sweetheart,” he grunts, cupping your face as your hips continue to rock against him. he was reaching his inevitable limit and so were you, gojo’s face turns flustered and his pretty blue eyes flicker backward for a moment. that action alone was sexy, only you made him like this. “you like hearin’ what you do to me, huh?”

his voice was always so low — deep ‘n pitchy, it had the right amount of rasp hiding underneath it.

the timbre, it was a huskiness that always got you soaked. gojo moved his hands back down toward your waist, helping you keep up your frantic rhythm. every few seconds, you felt his throbbing dick plunge in and out of your drooling cunt. it’s so thorough, and every once and a while, it slips out. “fuuuck,” he groans, lifting you up before aligning himself back in. “got me workin’ over time, baby. stay still, yeah.”

your sweet nub was constantly being kissed up against, and you’re already so so stupid.

metaphoric heart eyes form through your pupils as you twitched ‘n fluttered on his cock. the moment you came again, and again, and again, there was barely a thought in your mind. you were always left being a puddled mess, swollen walls perfectly ravaged and stretched out.

it’s probably been about a good hour or two.

the dressing room had a sweet smell of tangy sweat and cologne—you whimper, babbling repeatedly as you’re now bent back over again.

but this time, gojo’s fucking you from behind.

he’s probably had you do various positions, and he was just about to finish again, anticipating to see another load pour right into your puffy pussy.

“s- shit,” he swallows a lump residing in his throat, catching your secretive hand trying to reach down and touch yourself. “princess..”

you pause, your hand staying still and he chuckles — pressing right up against your ass. he’s still pumping you full mid-thrust, a free hand wrapping its way around the back of your throat. his tone sounded like you’d just been caught redhanded. “aw, someone’s eager. but you always ask before touchin’ this sloppy pussy, right?”

with your breath hitching, he’s continuing to reel you back into his sharp hips within each piston of a thrust. with your mouth opened wide, you moan. “y- yes,” and as he’s jutting his cock into your gripping walls, you whimper out a sweet question of want. “can i touch myself, ‘toru?”

“let me think, baby.”

and you whine, a pouty expression marinating against your features as he’s got you pressed up against the mirror once more. gojo chuckles, clammy hands squeezing against your ass. “oh, you big baby. ‘m joking, go ‘head princess.”

as your fingers skid down your sopping pussy, it’s immediately coated with your slick. you whine, feeling his pace go faster before he groans. after a while, he’s just about there. gojo’s eyes remain fixated on your pretty rear — skin against skin clashing onto each other in such sync ‘n harmony.

his orgasm hits him like a truck. as a pretty translucent ring forms around his heavy cock, lust foils at his brain. “hah, fuck, pretty. such a mess, arch more for me, good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”

with the way he’s praising you continuously, you felt the constant twitches of your pussy cling onto his length. as your limbs were shaky ‘n on their final concluding hinges, you grow quiet at the feeling of him dumping in yet another sweet sticky load of cum. in the process — he coats the fabric of your panties with his mess, luxuriating in how sloppy you looked.

everything feels so slow - it’s probably been hours.

the current song that’s playing on the speakers, you’ve heard that same chorus for at least three times now.

it’s so warm inside, the flushed left temple of your cheek sticks against the mirror as you’re pressed right up against it. “f- fuck.” you wheeze out, allowing him to pump you full of creamy, velvety loads. he groans, throwing his head back and letting off a deep exhale. pretty lashes of his flutter shut as he’s staring openly at the way your cunt swallows its favorite bittersweet meal. with his mushroom tip still thrashing against the bulb of your sensitive clit, he gradually pulls out.

gojo’s eyes remain at your backside — gazing at the way he’s overflowed you with ropes ‘n ropes of hot wads of cum.

he licks his lips, staring in awe at how it dribbles down your thighs so effortlessly. it’s so messy,

a thumb of his swipes down the inner crevices of your thighs, getting a taste of it himself. “such a pretty girl,” he huffs, bringing the same thumb up to his lips to get a good enough taste. with the honeyed concoction of both flavors, he hums in contentment. “awww,” he stands up, taking in your dumbed down state. you were still panting, cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

you’ve still got a brief portion of your fist in your mouth - trying to suppress your sweet noises, split knuckles tickling against your tongue. “cute. c’mere, princess.”

you shudder, feeling him reposition your panties whilst pulling up your frilled skirt. with a teasing smile, he kisses your forehead, giving the fat of your ass one more squeeze. “you did so good,” and once he’s making sure you’re okay, with glossed eyes—you leer as he drags his slacks back up, zipping up his fly. as you gawk, gojo looks so handsome. ruffled white strands all over the place and his once professional dress shirt was now all unbuttoned ‘n scruffy. “hm,” he catches you staring, and he strokes the bottom of your chin. “you look hungry for more,” and his voice gets a bit low, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, watching as you pout once he devastatingly pulls away. “happy birthday baby.”

“t- thank you, ‘toru,” you speak, trying to catch your breath. abruptly, you’re suddenly being lifted up by him, bridal style. a gasp wrenches out of you before you involuntary hurl your feeble, numb arms over his tense shoulders. he smells so good, you sink your face into the collar of his tux, feeling his body rumble from a chuckle.

“welcome,” and he unlocks the dressing room, walking out with you in nowhere but his warms. glancing at you, he whispers in a sweet low tone. “let’s get you outta here, hm? a nice warm bath ‘s waitin’ for ya at home. don’t want my baby’s limbs to be all sore.”

and as gojo’s carrying you and your bags with one arm supporting underneath you—he continues to make his way toward the front of the store.

he’s met with a few eyes yet he could care less. all he cared about was you, his pretty princess.

you shift a bit in his arms, still feeling creamy remnants of his cum plug you full even while being protected by your panties and skirt. it sticks against the fabric and you couldn’t help but grow flustered, feeling your thighs glue ‘n stick together. as he’s just about to leave out the door, he’s interrupted by the loud sound of a beep.

it’s the anti-theft security alarm, and gojo groans once he’s stopped by one of the employees.

“sir, i think you forgot to pay.”

“oh right,” the white haired man rubs the back of his neck, gently placing you back down on your feet. you glance up at him and your forehead’s met with another one of his tender, sweet kisses. “stay put, baby.”

you nod, watching as his back turns. he trods toward the cashier, whipping out his black card that he had you use for the majority of the day. as he’s paying for your items, he apologizes for the inconvenience with the most faux unknowing expression. gojo leaves a big tip in advance before making his way back toward you.

his staggering height stands tall and he slings an arm over your shoulder. he grabs your bags, having you lean against him as you both finally make your way out of the store.

“c’mon, darlin,” gojo mutters in a low tone, guiding you out of the mall. he’s still holding you close, but he stops briefly to plant a kiss near the inside of your neck. “still not done makin’ a mess out of my messy baby girl.”

[ivegoneturbo]

ough

[yuwuta]

friends with benefits with nanami wouldn’t work because he would think you deserve better. you think your arrangement is going well, kento has never complained before, and you’re certainly more than satisfied in bed. he’s handsome, strong, kind, generous with aftercare, and really fucking good with his mouth, so there are no complaints on your end. which is why it’s such a surprise to you when kento confesses that he doesn’t like the way he’s been treating you, and no matter how much you insist that it’s fine, and reassure him that he treats you more than well enough, he refuses. 

“but kento, i’m okay with this,” you attempt to convince him that hooking up is enough—he doesn’t need to feel like he has to do more for you, “you’re good to me, and not just in bed. please don’t feel like you owe me more.” 

“you deserve something proper,” he’s adamant, shaking his head, “you deserve more than convenient sex.” 

“but what if this is all i want?” you can’t help but to tease him. he looks awfully cute with his arms crossed, respectful refusal written all over his face, “i think eating me out on a weekly basis is quite enough, it would just be greedy for me to ask for more, don’t you think?” 

your jokes don’t amuse him, but his expression keeps you giggling. still, nanami sighs, and grumbles, “you should want more. it’s not greedy.”

“kento, if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re telling me to raise my standards.”

he blinks, cheeks pink with irritation and eyes hollow with tiredness. you push every single one of his buttons and he doesn’t know why, but he would never stop you. maybe that’s where this impeding guilt is coming from—kento likes you, and he doesn’t enjoy feeling like he’s using you, even if you get to use him in return. he doesn’t want your relationship to be transactional, and he doesn’t like that you think such a relationship is okay. 

because, guilt aside, kento knows he wants more of you; he wants all of you. and even if you don’t want him back, he thinks you should know that you’re worth having all of, and nothing less. 

“maybe i am,” he settles, “you are worth more than an occasional hookup. you should be treated better than this, and i am sorry that i have let it go on for this long.”

“this is ridiculous—you’re nothing but good to me! and i like having sex with you. if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, that’s fine, but—”

“i didn’t say that,” he interrupts. 

“so… you do wanna keep sleeping with me?” 

“yes. but we should go on a date before we continue.” 

“but what if our date is terrible. do we still get to have post-first date sex?” 

he shakes his head, stepping closer to you and holding your forearms before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “i don’t put out on the first date.”

you scoff, taking a half-step closer, snaking your arms around his torso, and grinning up at him, “what a prude.”

at that he smiles, before bending his neck to indulge you in one last kiss. “i’ll pick you up at seven.” 

[dykepuffs]

How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?

(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")

You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.

(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)

Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness’s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”

And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.

Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.

So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.

Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)

It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.

So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.

First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?

If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)

How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?

What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")

If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?

When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?

If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?

Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?

And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?

Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.

[suiana]

I'm thinking about a yandere! secretary who's an absolutely manipulative piece of shit❤️

you hired him because his resume was impeccable and you thought he'd be a perfect fit for the empty position.

which... he is.

but the fact that he's younger than you by a decent amount and can be quite unprofessional at times does throw you off. is it something younger people like doing? is it normal to visit your employee's house with no one else around?

"hey boss, I'm thinking of inviting you over to my place tonight? just the two of us? we can drink and eat fried chicken together❤️"

"my dear, that is rather unprofessional don't you think?"

"what? no of course not. you're thinking into it too much."

it doesn't help that you're sort of a people pleaser and give into his demands easily.

you just want to see all your employees be happy! is that so wrong of you? of course not! and all your other employees (excluding your secretary) all appreciate and treat you with respect. and as you know by now, your secretary is an asshole who makes use of your easily swayed personality to get you to do... things in his favour.

but you don't know that! you just think it's because of the age gap that causes you not to understand his actions and words! surely he's not trying to love you right?

"boss~ don't you think i should meet your family? your parents? you met mine the other day didn't you? oh my parents absolutely loved you! they thought you were so sweet and-"

"w-well... that's only because you got a raise and you suggested i should inform your family about how well you were performing during work... there's no reason for you to meet my-"

"boss, be serious. do you hate me?"

"no of course not! i-"

"that's settled then! we can go and meet your family after this!"

"...yes, my dear."

with that said, he's also an excellent actor and knows how to play things to his advantage. by the time you realize what's going on, you'll already be trapped in the palm of his hand.

"my dear... i am so sorry. we shouldn't have slept together, nor gotten together. it was a severe lapse in judgement and I'm sorry that i crossed the line between personal and professionalism."

"what are you talking about darling? don't worry your silly head over all that. professionalism? who needs that? all the other employees think we look great together, and your family loves me! plus, I'm your boyfriend that you love, yes?"

"i-"

"now stop speaking about stupid things. you don't have to worry about that anymore. just listen to me. it's normal to date your secretary. it's what the younger people are doing nowadays! I'm already 26! so don't worry..."

and it's not like you can just fire him either. like i said, he does an excellent job at being your secretary. also the fact that he practically controls HR and influences them into thinking every other potential employee is subpar. so when you hold a meeting about whether to fire him everyone protests against it. but that's not important.

besides, he won't let you do that. why would you want to get rid of him? you only need him don't you? he's perfect for this job! you don't need another secretary. you don't need anyone else.

just him. only him.

and you two will be happy together as long as you listen to his words and don't try getting rid of him. after all, you might be older but times are changing! you need the hand of a younger and more knowledgeable person. he'll help you bring the company to greater heights and bring in more revenue for you!

so stop talking about how it's wrong. it's not. it's the way of the new generation! and he just.. loves you very much. way too much.

[softspiderling]

est-ce que tu m’aimes? | j.v

summary:

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

OR; Jace’s reaction truly confuses you, you settle in at Dragonstone and a surprising addition to the team makes themselves known.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: Jace being a little mean (we all know he’s capable of it)

word count: 5,6k

author’s note: yoooo pt. 2 is finally here!! i hope you love it sm!!! pls don’t forget to reblog/leave comments etc if you liked it!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I cannot believe you would let her waltz into our home like that! She’s putting all of us in danger!”

In less than two days, you were sat outside a study as a heated argument about you took place behind closed doors. It was merely a coincidence that it was within the same family.

After Jace had stormed into the council room, meeting you with open hostility, Rhaenerya had asked you to give them some privacy. You had barely left the room before Jace had started spitting ill words about you.

“She saved me, Jace!”

“What if this is some plot for her to put herself in our midst and feed information back to King’s Landing?”

“Was she not residing in Oldtown with Daeron ever since we left for Dragonstone? It is doubtful she has been let in on the plans to usurp the throne.”

Jace let out a frustrated groan and it was silent for a few moments before Rhaenyra spoke again.

“It seems to me you have a different issue with her… Is it because you have feelings for her?”

Your breath stocked in your throat, your hand stilling against the door. Jace’s behavior towards you confused you deeply. It seemed like he harbored resentment, but you weren’t sure when it had started, when you had suddenly become a traitor in his eyes, instead of a friend.

“Don’t be ridiculous, mother.”

The way Jace scoffed hurt you more than ten daggers in your back, and you pressed your lips together, refusing to let the words of a man affect you.

“I only wish to protect you.”

Swallowing thickly, your hands balled into fists and you jumped back when the door suddenly opened, a knight gesturing for you to step in.

Hesitantly, you entered the room, the tensions still high and you looked at Jace, but he refused to meet your eyes, turning his head away.

Rhaenyra on the other hand stepped up you, taking your hand in hers, cradling it gently.

“I will never be able to repay the debt,” she said in a soft voice, her eyes warm. “You saved my son, even though you weren’t obligated to do it. For that, I will offer you a place here, at Dragonstone, and a place in my council, if you wish to take it.”

“Mother!-“

Rhaenyra ignored Jace’s protest, her voice unwavering. “I believe your insight into our enemies will give us an advantage to win this war.”

“I do not wish to cause a drift between you,” you said honestly. “If Jace does not wish for me to stay-“

“It is not his place,” Rhaenyra said and Jace only scoffed. You fought the urge to glare at him, you didn’t want to antagonize him even further.

“Thank you, your Grace,” you said, lowering your head. “I would very much like to stay.”

Frankly, you wouldn’t know where to go, had Rhaenyra not offered for you to stay, you weren’t sure what expected you, would you return to King’s Landing; it surely wouldn’t go over well.

“And the seat on the council?”

You pressed your lips together. It was an honor, an offer like that, but you could tell Jace wanted you to say no with the way he was looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“May I think about it?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra said, squeezing your hand. “Ser Lorent, escort the Lady to her chambers. I think the ones in the West Wing will be fitting.”

Ser Lorent bowed, before gesturing his arm out to you. “My Lady, if you please follow me.”

You bowed your head to Rhaenyra, turning to leave, but just before you stepped over the threshold of the room, you glanced back. Luke gave you a small smile, but Jace had turned his back to you again. You tried not to let it go to your head, but your mind was racing with questions after Ser Lorent had dropped you off in your chambers.

The sun was shining through the windows when you awoke the next day. You had chosen to take supper in your chambers the night before, trying to give Jace some space. There had been no maid to wake you, so it must still be early. A loud clang of swords floated up from outside and you wrapped a robe around your shoulders as you got out of the bed, glancing out the window.

It turned out that your chambers laid directly above the training grounds, where Jace and Luke were currently in the middle of training. It was nice to see Jace without a scowl on his face for a change, and you took the opportunity to look at him.

He had grown into a very fine Prince, his hair long, curling around his face, his cheekbones high. You had always known he’d grow up to be very handsome. It was hard to imagine he’s the same boy who had told you to write to him every day.

Now, he hadn’t spoken to you a single word after his agitated discussion with his mother.

“Lift your sword up higher when you are in offense, but when someone is advancing on you, make sure to defend the lower part of yourself as well.”

Luke sighed, dropping the point of his sword on the ground, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. “We have been training since the sun has risen, can we go break fast now?”

“No, you need this.”

“What am I to do with a sword when Aemond descends upon me with Vhagar? Slash at her wings?” Luke scoffed. “I’m not lacking in swordsmanship.”

You pressed yourself against the window as Jace laid a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, lending him comfort similar in a way you have done with Daeron.

“It will not happen again, Luke. I will make sure Aemond will not get the chance to get near you again.”

Jace let out a breath, his face pained, you could even see it from a distance.

“It was foolish of me to suggest we go deliver the messages,” Jace sighed. “I should’ve gone with you, you had no protection. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“Jace…” Luke looked at his brother, his forehead creased. “It wasn’t your fault. Our uncle behaved himself with no honor.”

“I should have expected that.” Jace smiled at him wryly. “You were lucky to escape Vhagar when you did.”

“I wasn’t lucky, I had help.”

Jace let out a loud sigh, giving Luke a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Let us go break fast, then.”

“Oh so now you want to end training,” Luke nagged, resheating his sword. “Because I mentioned Lady-“

“Do not speak her name to me,” Jace snapped, stopping Luke in the middle of his sentence.

Luke only sighed at his older brother.

“Jace… None of this is her doing. You cannot-“

A knock on your door quickly made you push away from the window, your cheeks red, almost having been caught eavesdropping.

The two young women standing in front of your chambers gave you a friendly smile, their hair - already twisted in intricate fashion despite the early hour - immediately told you of their parentage.

“You must be Baela and Rhaena.”

One of them, you assumed Baela, as she was wearing riding gear and last you had heard, Rhaena had yet to claim a dragon, inclined her head in yes. You gave them a smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m-“

“Oh we have heard all about you.”

Rhaena gave Baela a jab in the side, glaring at her sister and even though Baela had fallen into your word, it did not seem like she had done it in chargrin, as she had a friendly look on her face.

“We were about to break fast. Her Grace asked us to extend the invitation to you,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“Thank you. Let me get dressed and I will meet you in the dining hall.”

After getting dressed and making yourself presentable, you made your way to the dining hall. Well, you tried, at least. The keep was much bigger than you had anticipated. Finally you rounded the corner, thinking you had reached the dining hall, but instead you were standing in a hallway that split into three more hallways.

“I could have sworn this was the way to the dining hall,” you muttered to yourself, looking around in confusion, when someone called your name.

“… Are you lost?”

Luke stepped out of his chambers, lingering in the doorway. He must have gotten changed after training in the pit, his doublet a little askew as he walked towards you.

“I was exploring the keep.”

Luke gave you a suspicious look, a grin growing on his face.

“How long have you been wandering around?”

“Why do you assume I wasn’t waiting for you to walk me to the dining hall?”

Luke laughed, offering you his arm, which you accepted gratefully as the two of you walked together. You found it was easy to converse with Luke, he was telling you about Arrax and how he has been faring ever since you got back, and that he wished for some more meat instead of fish. His cheeky grin reminded you a lot of Daeron when he was pulling one of his jests on his uncle. It was nice, to have something to remind you of home in a place that felt so unfamiliar.

“And here we are, at the dining hall,” Luke announced as you stepped into a completely different hallway, the large doors to the dining hall open.

“I never would have found my own way here,” you admitted and Luke laughed.

“I know.”

Judging by the sound of easy conversation coming out of the hall, you were the last to arrive. You were hesitant, unwilling to cause any tension but Luke tugged on your arm, sensing your discomfort.

“Come. You shall sit with me.”

You relented, following the young boy inside. The conversation at the table ceased as you entered, everyone bidding you a good morrow. Well, almost everyone.

“Have you slept well?” Rhaenyra asked as you sat down next to Luke. You nodded, giving her a smile.

“Yes, thank you. I am very grateful that you have offered for me to stay. And for the clothes, of course.“

Next to Rhaenyra, her lord husband Daemon only gave you a subdued smirk.

“It appears we are the ones who have to offer our thanks,” he said, his fingers circling the brim of his cup. “You acted when it was easier to do nothing. You showed true courage.”

“Please,” you said, nearly melting into your seat out of embarrassment. “I did what was right.”

You ignored how Jace visibly rolled his eyes, turning his head as he took a sip from his cup. He seemed incredibly displeased by this all.

“You should have seen her,” Luke said, nodding fervently. “She leapt from Vhagar to Arrax just above the clouds like it was a small jump over a beck.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“It was. I truly do not know what came over me in that instant.”

“Sometimes we don’t know how brave we are until the moment asks for it,” Rhaenyra said with an encouraging smile and you nodded, your cheeks red. Thankfully this scene of praising you was interrupted by the servants starting to serve food.

“You have been living most of your recent name days in Oldtown, is that right?” Baela asked curiously, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Alicent sent Daeron to Oldtown and asked me to accompany him to make the distance from home easier.”

You have always thought it cruel of Alicent to send Daeron away from his family, his siblings. But now you wondered if Daeron was better off for it.

“It was really different from King’s Landing. The grandmaesters were incredibly wise and I have learned a lot from the them,” you told her, a smile on your face. “Daeron of course always dragged his feet, but I knew he enjoyed it as well.”

“How old is Daeron now?” Luke asked, swallowing his food.

“Eight and ten,” you answered. “Not quite a man just yet, even if he believes otherwise.”

The family laughed, and even Jacaerys cracked a smile, though it seemed more unkind than the rest.

“That seems to be running on his side of the family, no?” he asked, taking a sip from his cup. His voice was so cutting, and the light mood seemed to dissipate at once. “Aegon, Aemond, none of them display characteristics of a what a real man is… I wonder if Daeron turned out any better than his usurping and kinslaying brothers, though I-“

Before Jace could continue, you slammed both of your hands on the table as you stood, the tableware clattering. The table grew quiet, the tension thick as everyone laid their eyes on you, but you paid them no mind, your focus on Jace as you glared at him, and he seemed surprised at your outburst.

“Please excuse me,” you pressed out, eyes gleaming with anger. You barely waited for Rhaenyra to excuse you as you left the table, your food still untouched on your place.

As you hasten out of the dining room, you could hear Rhaenyra raising her voice.

“-unacceptable behavior!”

“Why are you all rushing to her defense? Or Daeron’s? She’s just being sensitive!”

“I have lived with you about as long as she has with Daeron,” Rhaena argued. “Would you not come to my defense if someone spoke ill about me?”

You didn’t wait to hear Jace’s answer rushing past the Queensguard that was standing by the door. By some miracle, you easily found your way back to your chambers, the heavy door falling shut as you threw yourself on the bed, letting out a scream of frustration.

You were at a loss.

Jace seemed to use every opportunity to antagonize you, treating you like an enemy instead of a friend he had grown up with. You were no damsel in distress who couldn’t handle tough words, but it was to hard to hear them from someone you harbored feelings for.

You wished you could talk to someone about this. You wished you could talk to Daeron about this. A part of you longed for the days when you were in Oldtown, before any of this occurred.

A knock brought you out of your thoughts and you lifted your head from the cushions, frowning.

“I wish to be alone for a little longer,” you called out. It was probably a handmaiden Rhaenyra had sent to check up on you. You hoped she would respect your wishes, but the knocking didn’t cease and with a small sigh, you pulled yourself up, heading to the door.

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

“I have been told that my behavior this morning was unbefitting for a Prince,” he ground out, the words like gravel in his mouth. “I’m here to extend an apology.”

You bit back a scoff, rolling your eyes. “Fine. Go ahead, then.”

He guffawed at your words.

“If you are going to be like this, I am not sure it makes much sense for me to apologize,” Jace said haughtily and you snorted.

“If I were to believe that a single word of your apology were genuine, I would readily accept it.”

Jace only scoffed, shaking his head but not denying your accusation. His nostrils were flared and you searched for his eyes, but he refused to meet your gaze. Exhaling softly, trying to let go of your anger, you uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides.

“Why are you so angry?”

Suddenly, Jace’s eyes snapped up to yours, his lips parted in disbelief.

“My mother’s claim to the throne has been stolen by her usurper brother, my uncle! Whereas my other uncle tried to murder Luke, and you ask why I’m angry?”

You let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Forgive me, I should have been more clear. Let me rephrase,” you said. “Why are you angry with me?”

Jace took a step back, surprised by your question.

“You treat me like I myself have usurped the throne, Jace.”

You looked at Jace expectantly; his mouth opening, like he wanted to say something, before he closed it again, his words unspoken. Before you could demand an answer, hurried steps came down the hallway, Ser Lorent appearing, stopping next to your chambers. Jace seemed relieved at the distraction as the knight inclined his head at him.

“My Prince, the Queen has requested your presence for the council meeting.”

Jace nodded, giving you one last glance before stepping towards Ser Lorent, expecting him to leave right away, but Ser Lorent turned his eyes on you.

“You as well, my Lady.”

Jace let out a scoff and turned on his heel without waiting.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he stalked away. You sighed, glancing at Ser Lorent but he only extended his hand in silent invitation, leaving you no choice but to go with him.

The painted table in the council room was already fully seated, save for one empty space, two seats down from Jace. Most of the council consisted of lords of various houses, who eyed you sceptically as you took your seat next to Baela.

“What is a girl like her doing at a council meeting?” The Lord sat across from you asked, clear disdain on his face. You only stared back at him, not knowing how to answer yourself, but disliking his tone towards you only for the fact that you were not a man.

“This girl,” Jace replied, and you already resigned to another slight at you, “Has saved my brother up thousand feet on the air with no training. What have you achieved for my mother, Lord Bartimos?”

Lord Bartimos only let out an aggrieved sigh as he leaned back in his seat, while you turned to Jace with a surprised look on your face. He didn’t meet your eyes. Luke on the other hand, was ducking his head to hide a grin, failing miserably.

“She can offer us insights into the plan of the usurpers,” Rhaenyra said, effectively stopping any more arguments. “I hope we can avoid any bloodshed.”

“Avoid?” Daemon asked, leaning forward with a crease in his forehead. “They blatantly attacked a messenger after you wished for some time to think about their offer.”

“Daemon is right.”

Jace’s voice was strong as he agreed with Daemon, his shoulders tight.

“This is not the time to sit back and watch their plans unfold. We have come too close to unimaginable tragedy.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to his younger brother, before he turned to look to his mother. “We need to fight back.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth, seemingly to disagree with her eldest son, but a commotion outside caught everyone’s attention.

“Dragon!”

“It’s a dragon with a rider!”

Everyone at the table looked at each other, unsure of what was happening when a knight from the watch outside came storming into the room.

“Your Grace!” he called, bowing quickly. “There has been a dragon sighted with a rider, he’s headed straight for Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra’s forehead creased in concern.

“Do we know who it is?”

“No, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra stood, her strides quick as she walked outside, the rest of you were not too far behind her. Outside, the folks were rushing in, trying to get to safety from an imminent attack from the dragon.

“I will mount Moondancer,” Baela said, already turning on her heel but Rhaenyra stopped her, shaking her head.

“No. We do not know his intention yet, another dragon might provoke him into attacking.”

You lifted your eyes to the sky, sight blinded by the sun for the first few moments. The dragon’s movements seemed familiar to you, and as your vision adjusted, you let out a laughter, relief coursing through you.

“That’s Tessarion!” you exlaimed, turning to Rhaenyra with a smile. “It’s Daeron!”

You broke out in a run, skirt of your dress lifted as you skidded down the stoney hill, ignoring how Jacaerys was yelling after you to wait.

Tessarion landed on the green grass, stretching her orange-blue wings, as Daeron slid off his saddle, feet on solid ground again. He oriented himself looking around, before relief took over his face when he saw you.

“Sister!”

“Daeron!”

You fell around his arms like countless times before and he held you so tightly, you were afraid he’d never let you go.

“You promised,” he whispered into your neck in a choked voice. “You promised you wouldn’t abandon me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you mumbled, squeezing Daeron. You didn’t let go of him until his hold on you lessened, knowing he needed to realize that you were, and not gone. Pushing his hair out of his face, you gave him a watery smile.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Brother.”

Rhaenyra’s voice brought you back to reality, as the both of you stood straight, Rhaenyra’s face null of emotion. Jace was furious, his eyes flitting between you and Daeron continuously, while Daemon stood behind Rhaenyra.

“Are you here to deliver a message from the false King that is your brother?”

“I am not a messenger,” Daeron said, his voiced heated. “And as I recall he’s your brother as well.”

His tone is starting to border on disrespect so you glanced over to him, your eyebrows creased. Daeron let out a small sigh.

“I hold no loyalty to my brother,” he added, his voice softer. “Nor am I here to deliver any messages.”

“Then what is your purpose of being here?”

“I’m here because she is,” Daeron answered simply, squeezing your hand. “She has been more kin to me than either Aegon or Aemond. I want to stay on Dragonstone, if you allow it. Fight alongside you.”

“Are we offering shelter for anyone who comes here now?”

Jace’s voice was directed at Rhaenyra, but Daeron narrowed his eyes at him.

“What happened to him?” he muttered to you under his breath. “I do not recall him being this miserable.”

“Daeron!” you hissed, the corners of your mouth tugging up anyways. Jace scoffed, taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Rhaenyra.

“If you are willing to trust me, you have to trust Daeron,” you said, looking at Rhaenyra. You understood that she was wary, she and Daeron barely spent any time together, he was a stranger to her. But you hoped that her trust in you was only half as strong as your trust in Daeron. “If anything, it adds another dragon on your side.”

Rhaenyra regarded you with a impressed smile, giving a small nod.

“Very well. You might stay, Daeron,” she said; behind her, Jacaerys and Daemon exchanged a look, neither of them happy about her decision. “However, I wish to speak with you, alone.”

Daeron nodded, and you squeezed his hand as you followed Rhaenyra back inside the keep, trying not to let Jace’s piercing eyes on you bother you.

“I think it odd. Seeing Rhaenyra again after all this time. My sister.”

You were sitting out in the grass, Daeron’s head in your lap as he talked. He had spent the last two hours in the council room speaking to Rhaenyra. You weren’t sure what exactly they had talked about, but when they both came out, they seemed calm, almost peaceful. You didn’t pry, knowing that Daeron would share whatever he felt comfortable with.

“Does she feel like kin to you?” you asked, knowing how distant Rhaenyra was to Alicent’s children, even when they were younger.

Daeron shrugged, ripping up a blade of grass with his hand.

“She was polite enough. She knows what advantage she has having me on her side. I cannot see us become closer,” he said. “Like us.”

Daeron peered up at you with a grin and you rolled your eyes. Something was still nagging at you, and you knew it wouldn’t leave your head until you had answers

“What happened when Aemond got back? How did you know I was here?”

Daeron’s smile dimmed a little and he looked away, his eyes focusing on the blue sky above you.

“I was already searching for you by the time Aemond returned. I could tell by the look on his face that something had happened, so he told me that he had been out in Storm’s End to secure pledges for Aegon, and that you had come with. Luke had arrived just shortly after Aemond had negotiated with Lord Borros and he got angry, starting a fight, bringing up what had happened at Driftmark.”

Your brows furrowed. You had suspected that Aemond wouldn’t tell the truth, but blaming Lucerys for his bad temper? Anything to paint you as the villain.

“Aemond said you took Luke’s side, your feelings for Jace swaying you.”

Your cheeks reddened. You hadn’t realized that your affections for Jace were so apparent that Aemond would take notice. Daeron continued, unperturbed.

“- and that was when Aemond returned to King’s Landing.”

“That’s not-“

Before you could finish, Daeron interrupted you, his eyes finding yours again.

“I know, Rhaenyra told me what truly happened.”

“But did you really believe what Aemond had told you? That I would just go with Luke because of an argument, leave you?”

Daeron shrugged with his shoulders, his eyes downcast.

“I did not want to. But what was I supposed to do? Call Aemond a liar? I don’t think that would have gone well,” he argued. “I did not have choice but to accept his truth as mine.”

“Then why did you come here if you thought me a traitor?”

Stilling, Daeron pressed his lips together.

“Helaena… She was behaving peculiar… I was sitting with her in the day room, watching Jahaerys and Jahaera play, and all she kept saying was “To save her brother, you must trust your sister” while looking between me and Jahaera,” he told you and you frowned.

To save her brother, you must trust your sister?

“What does that mean?”

“I am not quite sure,” Daeron said, shaking his head. “But I knew it must mean that Aemond was not telling the truth, that you had left because of something else.”

You bit back a smile; it amused you how Daeron did not hesitate to think of you when someone mentioned his sister, but hummed in thought, unsatisfied with his words.

“What if she did not mean me? What if she was talking about Rhaenyra?”

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel leading up to the small cliff made the two of you paused. You both looked up just to see Jace arrive to the top, stopping at the edge of the field stiffly. Daeron propped himself up on his elbows, glancing to you, then back to Jace slowly before he got to his feet, dusting off his clothes.

“I should go to the dragon mount. See how Tessarion is faring.”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do and you shook your head quickly, pulling yourself up.

“Daeron…!” you almost shouted, but the young Prince already departed. As he passed Jace, the older gave him an almost imperceptible nod, before Daeron disappeared down the hill. You let out a small frustrated huff, your eyes flickering to Jace before you turned away again. His steps were careful as he came closer, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, not looking at him as he came to a stop next to you.

You were the first to speak.

“I am surprised you didn’t call Daeron a traitor as he passed you.”

In hindsight, you could have chosen less biting words. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jace clench his jaw.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I am not!” Jace sighed. “I did not come to argue with you.”

“Then what have you come for?”

Jace fell silent again and you shook your head in exasperation. It was hard for you to read him; he seemingly had made it a habit to guard his emotions. When Jace finally spoke again, his words surprised you.

“I always envied him.”

“What?”

“Daeron,” he clarified. “When you wrote to me that you were to be sent to Oldtown with Daeron, I was furious. I begged mother to let you come with us, but she said it would be seen as disrespectful towards Alicent. She wanted to avoid a fight.” Jace scoffed, shaking his head. “The irony does not escape me.”

He paused, his gaze on the horizon. Two dragons had made their way out of the dragon mount, flying in the sky, stretching their wings. One, you were able to recognize as Vermax, with his orange green scales. He had grown exponentially since the last time you saw him. The other dragon was unfamiliar to you, but the dragons seemed to have a bond as they flew around each other playfully. You took your eyes off of the dragons to look at Jace. He was already looking at you, his cheeks pink.

“I looked forward to your letters every day,” Jace admitted, ducking his head. “… It eased my longing, if only slightly.”

Your lips pursed into a pleased smile.

“You longed for me?” you teased.

“Did you not long for me?” he asked quite bluntly, his eyes searching yours. “Or was what you had enough for you?”

Letting out a small huff, you shook your head, knowing what he was insinuating; the same thing that Aemond had hinted at only a few days prior.

“Daeron and I are like brother and sister, I do not long for him in any way than you do for Luke.”

Jace nodded, his smile delighted. But you let out a sigh, wringing your hands.

“If you truly felt like this… Why have you treated me so horribly ever since I’ve been here? Why have you stopped replying to my letters?”

“It’s not…” Jace trailed off, pulling his face into a frown. “After we received the news of my grandsire’s passing, mother has been on edge, preparing for war. We all have. And I felt guilty, I didn’t want to be distracted by anything, and whenever one of your letters arrived, I couldn’t get my mind on anything else than sitting down to write back to you. So I just… Stopped answering. And I thought I could write to you when all of this is over, but then you were suddenly… Here.”

Jace broke off, pressing his lips together. “You were supposed to stay in Oldtown, far away from the war that is brewing. Now you quite literally launched yourself right into the middle of it all. I thought it incredulous that you would just show up and save my brother… Like in a dream.”

Your chest ached. You had not realized how worried Jace was for you.

“But you thought I was spying for information,” you reminded him.

“I didn’t really believe you would be capable of doing so… But I couldn’t let my feelings cloud my judgement. Mother counts on me, and as her heir, I have to fulfill my duties.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, your chin low. While you understood why Jace had been behaving the way he was, it still hurt to be treated that way.

“I dislike causing you anguish,” he said quietly. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”

“The way to forgiveness may not be easy,” you warned him, a small smile on your face. “I am not known for being very forgiving.”

“Then it will be so much more rewarding,” Jace quipped, smiling at you.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence, staring out in the distance, the dragons dancing in the sky. You almost flinched when you felt Jace hesitantly reach for your hand; it was the first time he let go of the hilt of his sword since you got to Dragonstone. Swallowing nervously, you laced your fingers with his, feeling the tension bleed away from his limbs. For a while, you just stood there, hand in hand, lending each other comfort in the silence. A silence Jace soon broke.

“Do you want to go for a ride on Vermax?”

Your eyes lit up at the sudden invitation, but you held your excitement at bay, not wanting to seem too eager. Seeing Jace’s face however, it told you that you better work on masking your emotions. While the imminent war brewing in the near future scares you, you didn’t want to forego small moments of happiness, you were sure the war held plenty of misery and frustration. You would enjoy every single smile you could shed.

“I’d love to.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: before you ask, i’m not planning on writing another part! maybe a few drabbles in the future! 🫶🏼