#spotted silver dollar

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Got any facts about Spotted Silver Dollars? 🐟

Of course!

Daily fish fact #501

Spotted silver dollar!

This shoaling relative of the piranhas is native to the Amazon river basin and some Guiana Shield rivers! They're sometimes kept in the aquarium hobby, though they require large tanks with lots of hiding opportunities.

[ichorai]

little dragon ; aemond targaryen. (m)

part two ; water dragon.

pairing ; aemond targaryen x tully!f!reader

synopsis ; he was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest.

words ; 5.8k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy, established relationship (married), pregnant au

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, tiny bit of oral (f recieving), breeding and praise kink, pregnancy/childbirth, vhagar cameo, aegon being a menace, foul language, aemond being a good husband/dad unlike his own father, so sorry if the valyrian grammar isn't completely correct ;-; if anyone gets the bert & ernie tully reference you deserve a million dollars

main masterlist.

It happened in the dead of night. When the winds quietened to but a feathery whisper, when the moon shone white and gold and silver, when the fires in the hearth of your chambers had waned to a soft orange glow.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon,” he whispered against the flushed skin of your neck, traveling downwards to softly kiss along your clavicle. His voice was gravely and rich, soaked with honey and ocean salt. The sapphire within his eye glinted with the dim lighting of the sparse candles scattered around your chambers, and you craned your head to press a kiss upon his scar, your nose slotted against his cheekbone. 

My love was what he’d said—you didn’t know much Valyrian, still trying your best to study during your free hours, but your husband called you that often enough for you to recognize the affectionate words. 

One of your hands was buried within his silken silver hair, tugging in tandem with his swift, fluid motions. The other clawed down his toned back, leaving angry red trails in its wake. A strained cry fell from your kiss-swollen lips as you rocked your hips against his. 

Aemond held your waist in a tight grip, thumbs brushing against the sides of your ribs with every stroke of his throbbing cock within your slick, heated cunt. His lips, his tongue, his teeth—all blistering, scorching, searing with need. 

“Sīr sȳz syt nyke, ñuha embar.” So good for me, my sea. He was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest. A guttural groan tapered his voice to a close when you clenched around him, his susurrating praises mumbled against your breast sending jolts of arousal straight to your core. His rapid, desperate string of Valyrian fell upon deaf ears, buzzing with pleasure. Stars colored your vision a blinding white when one of his hands relinquished his hold on you to snake down your abdomen, pressing his long fingers against your clit.

“Aemond!” you just about sobbed, legs curling around his waist to pull him closer. You were insatiable, cracking your eyes open once more, a thin film of tears warbling over your widened gaze. “Oh, please, please—!”

A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you with more power than before, but froze once he was completely sheathed within your throbbing cunt. “Please, what? Have I fucked you stupid already, jorrāelagon, hm? Dragon got your tongue?” he hummed in mild amusement, regarding your beautiful, sweaty form with a hungry, lustful expression, eyebrows cocked as he waited for your answer. 

Part of you wanted to snarl at him, tell him to keep moving, but the other half of you wanted to cry and plead and beg for his cock.

Knowing your husband, he would’ve been quite pleased with either. 

“I want you to finish inside me,” you breathed out, lips brushing the shell of his ear, eyes half-hooded with want. “Fuck me full of your cum, valzȳrys.”

His cock grew impossibly harder within you, throbbing almost painfully—whether it was because of you calling him husband in his native language, or because of your devilish tongue laving upon a sensitive spot on his neck, he couldn’t quite tell. Expression hardening, he grabbed at your hips and yanked himself out of you, before flipping you onto your stomach and swiftly breaching your entrance in no less than three seconds, earning him a shriek of surprise which winded into a litany of breathless moans and blubbering pleas. 

And yet, he remained still, cock stretching you out so deliciously well—but he wasn’t moving. You sobbed with frustration, burying your face into the feather-pillow in front of you, muffling your desperate cries. Aemond’s growl thundered through his throat, and he slid his hand into your hair and tugged you up flush against his chest, so he could hear your obscene noises loud and clear. His free hand creeped down between your trembling thighs, where his middle finger only barely grazed over your clit, despite your fruitless attempts to buck your hips up to meet his touch.

“Ask me again nicely, ñuha embar,” he whispered, placing a loving kiss to the side of your temple. “In my mother tongue—you remember all those lessons I gave you, no?”

You wanted to curse at him. Your Valyrian lessons with him were the very last thing on your mind at the moment. Thoughts hazy, you murmured out a bit shakily, “Kostilus, qogralbar nyke, Aemond. Ta… Tatagon iemnȳ, kostilus.” 

Please, fuck me, Aemond. Finish inside, please.

He hummed in satisfaction as he pressed sweet kisses along the curve of your shoulder. He gently pulled out and began to roughly thrust back up into you as soon as you moaned out, “Nyke jorrāelagon ao!”

I need you!

A broken sigh tumbled from your throat when he finally began to fuck you just the way you wanted, knowing that your climax was drawing near. You had no chance of lasting when he began to circle the pads of his fingers against your clit. 

“Iksā sīr sȳz. Sīr, sīr sȳz, ñuha embar,” he said, chest rumbling with each word. You feel so good. So, so good, my sea. “Avy jorrāelan, avy jorrāelan, dōna ābrazȳrys.” I love you, I love you, sweet wife.

You preened with his praise, arching your spine and pushing your hips back to match his quick pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, of your arousal rang loud and true throughout your chambers, bouncing off the stone walls and ricocheting back to you, heat spidering over your skin upon hearing your own lust. 

“Tatagon syt nyke,” he growled, motions growing erratic and hurried. Cum for me.

With one final moan, you collapsed against him, cunt spasming tightly around his dick as you toppled down from the edge, pushing Aemond over the brink as well, spurts of warm cum painting your cunt. Despite the both of you already coming down from your highs, Aemond rocked into you a couple more times, kissing your sweaty hairline over and over again as he showered you with muted praise. The sticky substance dripped down the insides of your legs once he gingerly pulled out of you with a low sigh. He reached down to collect it and abruptly stuffed his cum-slickened fingers back into your cunt, wrangling a sharp intake of breath from you.

He chuckled lightly, pulling his hand back out and dragging his tongue over his finger to taste the filthy mix of your essence with his seed, before winding his arm around you to allow you to do the same. You whimpered around his fingers, sucking on the digits slowly—Aemond could feel his cock growing hard again. 

With a pleased hum, he languidly set you back down on the bed so he could lay beside you, pulling his hand away from your mouth with a lewdly wet pop. 

“I love you,” you croaked, throat parched and voice hoarse from all your moaning, an utterly blissful grin stretching your swollen lips.

Aemond cupped your face within his palms and pressed a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. “And I you, my dear sea.”

MOON ONE.

“It’s been a moon since you’ve bled, my lady,” your handmaiden, Lailena, commented, a knowing excitement to her gaze. “Could that mean…?”

In truth, you haven't told anyone about your pregnancy just yet. Nobody knew except you and the maester, who’d sworn himself to secrecy with a kind, understanding smile. It’d been a couple days since you found out, and you were still trying to find a way to tell your beloved husband. In the meantime, you were enjoying the peaceful privacy of knowing that it was only you who knew of the babe growing within you. No doubt when the news would inevitably break out, Alicent and Aemond would be hovering over you like overprotective hawks. 

Not being able to contain your smile, you grasped your handmaiden’s hands within yours. “You’re not to tell a soul, Lailena. I still have yet to inform the prince.”

Your handmaiden mimicked locking her lips shut, a beautiful smile etching across her features. “I am so happy for you, my lady. If you need anything—anything at all, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Oh, you’re too kind, my dear,” you hummed, patting her cheek affectionately. You had a soft spot for your young handmaiden—having stopped her from being sold into a whorehouse against her will at the ripe age of ten-and-two. “Will you please draw me a bath? I’d like to wash the day’s labor off of me.”

Not ten minutes later, you were sighing in relief as you sank into a tub of warm water, the heat a relief for your tense muscles. You let your eyelids slide shut, lolling your head against the bath’s edge. 

A familiar pair of hands settled upon your bare shoulders, and you didn’t have to look to know that it was your husband coming to check in on you.

“Rytsas, ñuha jorrāelagon,” he hummed, kneeling by the gilded tub’s edge and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. Hello, my love.

“Aemond.” You shifted so you could face him, the water sloshing about with your movements. Nervousness was eating away at your insides, and you thought that no time would be better than now, where nobody else would bother you. “My darling husband, I have something to tell you.”

For a brief moment, worry flashed across Aemond’s expression, afraid something was wrong. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing bad,” you reassured him, a soft smile hanging onto the corner of your lips when he leaned forward to rest his forehead over yours. “At least, I hope it’s not.”

He remained mute, wordlessly urging you to continue. 

“I am with child.”

There were exactly three seconds of silence, presumably Aemond taking time to fully comprehend what you’d just told him. And then, a rare, beautiful smile overtook his usually impartial expression, his heart skipping over several beats with the realization that he was going to be a father. 

“You’re not jesting, embar?” he whispered, nose nudging yours. “Because this would surely be a cruel joke.”

Mirroring his growing elation, you let yourself beam brightly, craning your neck to kiss him properly. “I’m not jesting, Aemond,” you murmured, trailing your lips up to freckle kisses over the marred skin of his scar, and around his eyepatch, which you itched to yank off. 

“My love,” he said, struggling to find words for how he was feeling. Overjoyed? Shocked? Scared? “This is… you’re so… wonderful. This is wonderful. Avy jorrāelan. I love you, more than anything—and our little dragon.”

You scoffed, pulling away from him with raised brows. “Dragon? You forget I am a Tully, dear husband—they will be half my blood.”

With an affectionate roll of his eye, Aemond lifted his hand to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Alright, alright. Half-dragon, half-trout, then.”

“Fire and water.” You nodded in satisfaction at the compromise, your jubilated smile stolen away with a kiss from your sweet husband.

MOON TWO.

Aemond felt the bed shift as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress. A small noise of discontent rumbled in his throat as he propped himself onto his elbow, vision still adjusting to the darkness. 

“Where are you going?” he whispered, voice still gravely with slumber, twinged with confusion. “The hour is still early, my love. The sun has yet to rise.”

You hummed, leaning down to kiss his cheek, before rising onto your feet, shrugging on a silken green robe. “I have a sudden craving for honey cakes. I’m going down to the kitchens to see if they have any left from yesterday’s supper.”

“Now?” queried your husband, seeming partially miffed, and partially amused. He roused from the bed himself, sliding on a loose tunic so his chest wasn’t bare, and followed you out of your shared chambers and into the hall. “What brings about such a queer craving? You’ve never been particularly fond of honey cakes before.”

Subconsciously, you rested a hand on your stomach. “It must be the babe. I’ve been having the strangest cravings the past few days. Around a fortnight ago, I wanted to have nothing but apple fritters—those ones with cinnamon glaze, you know? For a while, everything else made me feel sick.”

A ghost of a smile graced Aemond’s lips. “I remember—mother said you were looking rather green at the mess table.”

You scowled at the memory, which spurred Aemond to huff out a laugh and tug you closer into his side. 

“My little dragon is a picky one,” he murmured, glancing down to where your hand hovered over your belly, still having yet to show physical signs of the pregnancy. “This is a good thing, ñuha dōna embar. They must already know their worth.”

Once in the kitchens, a part of the castle neither of you had ever ventured in before, Aemond scoured around for the blasted honey cakes you craved for so badly, and found them in a small container on the highest shelf. He pulled them down and handed one to you, grinning ever so softly when you didn’t even give yourself time to properly thank him before shoving one into your mouth and moaning around the pastry. 

Aemond kissed your temple and took a bite of his own piece of honey cake to appease your pleading urges for him to try it, even though it was far too sweet for his taste.

MOON THREE.

 You were beginning to show, and Aemond couldn’t be happier.

“Our dragon is growing,” he’d say every morning without fail, a prideful gleam to his eyes. “And you have never been more beautiful, dōna ābrazȳrys.” Sweet wife. 

That afternoon, he brought you down to the dragonpit where Vhagar was nesting with her brand new clutch of eggs, wanting to introduce his little dragon to his much larger one. You watched with wide eyes as her bronze, spiny tail curled around four scaled eggs, each a different shade of copper. It was a miracle that a dragon of her old age laid a clutch of eggs at all, much less four of them. 

“Do not be afraid, embar,” he whispered, noticing your stiff movements and your hesitant steps, despite the brave facade you tried to hold on. “Vhagar will not hurt you.”

At the sound of her name, the dragon lifted her head, bright green eyes shifting to her master, then to you. She huffed out a small plume of warm smoke in greeting.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” commanded Aemond, placing a hand on her snout and gently urging you to come closer. “It’s alright, love. She can sense the dragon inside you.”

Still a bit tentative, you shakily lifted a hand and laid it beside Aemond’s, stroking the warm scales of her large nose. Emerald eyes shining, Vhagar’s chest rumbled, and she dipped forward ever so slightly, slotting her hot muzzle against your belly, as if acknowledging the babe inside you. 

Aemond smiled, his one eye creasing at the corners. “She likes you.”

“Though I have never been more petrified in my life…” you began softly, patting Vhagar’s snout and grinning widely, “I like her, too.”

“What do you say we pick an egg for our little dragon, hm?” asked your husband, commanding Vhagar to stay as Aemond led you to the beautiful quartet of shiny eggs. 

MOON FOUR.

You leaned against the intricate stone railing of the balcony attached to your chambers, breathing in the fresh morning air. You had woken up early—much earlier than you usually did, unable to fall back asleep because of the baby constantly moving inside you. 

Not too long after, your husband stepped out onto the balcony as well, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Neither of you said anything, perfectly content on basking in each other’s comfortable silence. 

His hand laid upon your slightly rounded stomach, rubbing gentle circles over the thin fabric of your sleeping shift. The first birds of the day chirped as the sun rose, spilling golden light over the two of you. 

You leaned back into him with a pleased sigh. “Helaena has asked me to come watch the twins today. I’m rather excited for them to meet the babe.”

Humming, Aemond nuzzled his nose into your cheek. “I’m excited to meet my little dragon, as well.”

MOON FIVE.

Since you’d been having trouble sleeping as of late, Aemond found that fucking you to exhaustion was one of the few ways to get you to sleep soundly throughout the night. It was either that, or he could read philosophical books to you in Valyrian. 

And though he quite enjoyed reading to you, the prince much preferred the former option.

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he hummed deeply, bordering on a growl, thrusting back into your sensitive, slick cunt. My beautiful wife. “I’ve fucked you full hundreds of times and yet you always want more. I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything, sweet embar.”

A low moan slipped from your throat and you desperately pulled his face to you, your lips meeting in a feverish manner. He grunted into your mouth when you clenched around his lengthy girth, nails raking angry red lines down his shoulders to the middle of his back. 

“Aemond!” you cried, bucking your hips up to meet his, lips parting in a tantalizing manner. 

Your eyes slipped shut with the overwhelming pleasure, but Aemond grasped your chin, softly grunting out, “Keep them open, love. I want to see you when you come all over my cock.”

The intense eye contact made your body flush with a certain heat, hurtling you ever so close to your climax. Your husband snuck a hand between you to draw slow circles on your aching clit, and you were abruptly slammed into your third orgasm, the first two stolen from Aemond’s silver tongue and long fingers, respectively. 

Utterly spent, you trailed kisses over Aemond’s cheek, up to his scarred eye. He had slowed down to a gentle rock, cock still stiff and aching within you. “You can move, Aem,” you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the very tip of his nose. “I want you to cum inside—I want my cunt to be dripping with your seed.”

And he groaned at your lewd words, dipping back down to meet your lips once more, all teeth and tongue. His breath hitched as he began moving once more, your soaked core feeling like absolute heaven. 

“Mmh, fuck!” he growled, emptying inside you, catching himself with his elbow when he collapsed, thankfully before he could crush you or the babe. “So good for me, dōna embar.” 

A low whine emitted from your lungs when he slowly pulled out, holding your legs apart to observe his spend leaking out of your fluttering cunt. 

Much to your simultaneous dismay and pleasure, Aemond just couldn’t resist, swiftly moving down to drag his tongue from your cunt up to your clit, grumbling an expletive at your taste. 

“Aemond!” you yelped, flinching away with overstimulation, lightly swatting at his shoulders with a laugh. “Gods, you’re going to be the death of me,” you said, grinning when he moved back up with an apologetic smile, dark sapphire glinting with the flickering candles lit about your chambers.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. You taste heavenly.” Finally, he settled back onto the bed behind you, pulling you flush against his chest. “Get some rest, Y/N. I plan on tasting you on the morrow. Perhaps you can ride my face again.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you murmured in response, not having listened to anything he’d said, already drifting halfway into sleep. 

You slipped into a deep slumber with Aemond’s arm protectively slung over your baby bump.

MOON SIX.

You were grateful that you no longer grew sick at the sight of a regular supper. You weren’t quite sure how long you would’ve lasted on honey cakes and apple slices alone. 

Dinner that night was a warm, peppered vegetable stew with loaves of steaming bread to mop it up with. There were other courses, such as honey-glazed venison, and slow-roasted pork belly—the latter of which Aemond avoided entirely despite Lucerys’ hushed giggling from across the table. Initially, he’d wanted to stride across the room and strangle the smug expression off the younger boy’s face, but one look at your stern, disapproving countenance made him hesitate, before begrudgingly digging back into his food.

He was to be a father soon. What example would he set for his child if he were to go about beating his nephews every other minute?

Lucerys was not the only one who stirred trouble at the table that evening. 

Rhaenyra and Helaena were pleasant for the most part, querying about your pregnancy and giving their own advice from their previous experiences. Baela and Rhaena were also kind to you, eagerly asking if you had any names picked out for the babe. You told them that you haven’t yet thought about it, sheepishly smiling. “If you have any ideas, I’m more than willing to listen,” you told the younger girls, which made them beam brightly with excitement. You didn’t know the two nearly as much as you wished to, but you were willing to try and build bridges between the steadily distancing sides—bridges that Aemond, as much as you loved your husband, was keen on burning. 

Alicent was silent for most of the time, only pitching in every so often to make passive-aggressive remarks to Rhaenyra, and occasionally trying to compliment you with a strained smile. As Aemond was her most beloved child, she’d always wanted to be closer to his dear wife, but found it troublesome to bond with you when you were so very fond of Rhaenyra. 

The men at the table, on the other hand, were an entirely different story. Jacaerys and Daemon quietly spoke to one another, but were rudely interrupted by Aegon spilling wine all over Jace’s lap. He drunkenly proclaimed it to be a slip of his hand, a mere accident—but everyone at the table knew he’d done it on purpose. Jacaerys was visibly stiff, but held his tongue, fist clenching and unclenching around a silver fork. 

“I pity your betrothed, I really do,” simpered Aegon to his nephew, hiccupping as he downed some more wine. The rest of the chatter at the table halted to watch the drunken Prince blubber on further. “How will you please her in bed if you haven’t the faintest clue where to put your cock?”

“Aegon!” Alicent admonished sharply, eyes wide and jaw set.

The eldest Prince waved his mother away, standing up abruptly, brandishing another chalice full to the brim with alcohol. You briefly wondered where all these cups were coming from. Then, Aegon rounded his gaze on you and Aemond at the other end of the table. “See, my dearest brother has figured out how to do it! Look, his wife is all round with his first child—perhaps the next could be mine. It matters not which Targaryen fucks you, it’s not like you can tell the difference when the babe comes out. Your Tully whore of a wife probably wouldn’t even mind, brother! I’d bet all my coin every guard in this room has sullied her already!” 

In a blink of an eye, Aemond was on his feet, lips curled into a snarl. Alicent also stood up, glancing between her two boys worriedly, afraid a fight would break out. 

You were the last one to rise, placing a hand on Aemond’s arm. He seemed to soften beneath your touch, glancing back to look at you briefly, nonverbally making sure that you were alright.

You shook your head, glaring harshly at Aegon, before turning on your heel and marching out of the mess hall, leaving a portion of your dinner largely untouched. 

It took everything within Aemond not to clamber onto the table and throw his fist into his older brother’s arrogant, drunken face. He longed to resort to physical violence—after all, Aemond was taller and stronger and quicker than him, and would easily best his brother in a fight. But his urge to be by your side was far greater, so he settled with scathing words and a lingering threat.

“You are a foul excuse of a brother, Aegon. If you ever dare to insult my wife again, I will carve out your tongue myself and feed it to my dragon.”

With that, Aemond stormed out of the hall, strides quickening so he could catch up with you. On his way out, he faintly heard his mother trying her best to patch up the situation, rambling in a panicked fashion, “Aemond doesn’t mean it, Aegon. Sit down and finish your supper, will you?”

Aemond rolled his one eye. He’d meant every last word of what he said. 

When he finally caught up to you, you were already in your chambers, gently wiping the dampness of your frustrated tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, tugging you into his chest and stroking the back of your head. “My brother is a drunken fool. Do not take his crude words to heart. He is not worth your tears.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond,” you murmured into the fabric of his tunic, blowing out a calming sigh. “You didn’t have to follow me, though… you didn’t get to finish your supper.”

He blew out a mildly amused huff. “Neither did you, dōna embar.” Sweet sea. How you adored the affectionate nickname he called you. “I love you. And I would follow you to the ends of this world if I had to—even if it meant missing a bit of supper.”

It felt as if your heart was melting through the confines of your ribs, and you could only lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You are everything to me, my darling Aemond. I love you, too.”

MOON SEVEN.

The baby was kicking again. Nonstop, for the past three hours.

You glared down at your swollen belly, before uncomfortably shifting on the bed until you were sitting upright. The babe kicked once more, as if sensing your annoyance. You couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. 

From beside you, Aemond looked away from the thick history tome he was reading and tilted his head. He’d thought you were already asleep. “The hour grows late, ñuha jorrāelagon. What troubles you so?”

With an exhausted sigh, you laid your head upon his shoulder, and Aemond immediately shut the book and placed it off to the side. 

“The babe,” you said, threading your hand with one of his and tracing shapes along the back of his palm. “They haven’t stopped kicking since I got out of my bath and I can hardly sleep more than a few winks. Though, I can’t say I can complain—Lailena says the ones who kick more will grow to be strong warriors.”

A small, satisfied smirk flitted over your husband’s sharp features. “Of course they’re kicking around—they’re a dragon after all.”

“Trout-dragon,” you reminded him, a soft smile to your lips. 

Aemond barked out a laugh. “Dragon-trout.” His free hand came around to place it on the center of your belly, and he sucked in an astonished breath when he felt the baby moving around beneath his palm. He met your eyes, shining with pride and adoration—for both you and the babe within you. “They’re a true Targaryen. We’ve never been too keen on sitting still.”

“So this is your fault,” you bit out, drawing yourself away from his shoulder to narrow your tired eyes at your husband. “I just want to sleep!”

His purple iris glinted salaciously. The hand on your belly began inching further down between your legs. “Maybe I just need to tire you out, hm?”

“No, I’m already so very tired,” you murmured, melting beneath his touch. Immediately, Aemond retracted his fingers, cupping your face and pressing sweet kisses over your heavy eyelids. 

“I’m sorry, love. What can I do?”

With a grateful slant of your lips, you settled yourself into his side once again. “Read to me, please. You have a very beautiful voice—it’s especially soothing in Valyrian.”

Humming, Aemond reached over to grab the history tome once more, flicking it open to where he’d left off. 

The Prince began reading the tale of Aegon’s Conquest out loud for you, his Valyrian effortlessly smooth, like pure honey to your ears. Not even three pages deep, you had already given into the alluring promise of sleep, cheek smushed against his shoulder. Aemond kept reading anyway, placing a hand on your belly, certain that his child could hear his low voice.

“One day you and I will be in one of these books,” he told the babe, a wistful smile on his face. “And our great, great, grandchildren will be reading about us and the many adventures we’ll go on.”

MOON EIGHT.

The fire crackled hungrily as Aemond kindled the greedy flames with a fresh wedge of wood. 

“What do you think of Jacaelar?” your husband asked. “It’s a fine name for a son.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t know—their nickname would be Jace, and you’re not particularly fond of the Jace we already know. What about a Tully name? How does Bert sound for a boy?”

“No.”

“Ooh, what about Ernie?”

Aemond grimaced. With a laugh, you playfully rolled your eyes. “Alright, alright. We’ll stick to Valyrian names.”

After a moment’s silence, Aemond suggested, “Vaeron?”

“Yes, I rather like that one.” You grinned. “Do you like Daera for a girl?”

Your husband sat down on the plush chaise beside you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “That’s a good name—though my younger brother Daeron might think we named our child after him, and I’d really rather not inflate his ego. I like the name Visera. There’s also Rhaelor, Jahaela, Haerys, Saelyra—”

“Oh, it’s just too many to choose from!” you exclaimed, cutting his extensive list off and sinking further into your seat. “We can just call the babe Aemond the Second and be done with it.”

With a chortle of laughter, Aemond shook his head, fine silver strands of hair tickling your cheek when he drew you close into his side. “And what if our little dragon is a girl?”

“Then we call her Aemonda. I don’t know,” you harrumphed, crossing your arms. Aemond lightly pinched your thigh. After another second, you gently proposed, “... Syraena sounds lovely. Don’t you think so?”

Humming, Aemond bowed his head. “Syraena. It is a lovely name.”

You rubbed your hands over your distended stomach. “Do you know if you’d rather have a son or a daughter?”

He took a moment to consider your question before quietly replying, “I care naught for the babe’s sex—they will be my blood, regardless. My little dragon.” Before you could correct him, he hastily added, “Trout. Dragon-trout.”

The two of you began cracking up with silent laughter, and you turned to watch the fire burn away, small golden embers floating up from the hearth. 

You heard your husband murmur Syraena beneath his breath once more, clearly content with the name. A glowing beam graced your expression. 

NINE MOONS.

The birthing was the most painful experience you’d ever gone through. There were tears streaming down your face, and your hair was damp with sweat. Aemond was by your side, loyal as ever, clutching your hand and murmuring sweet words of encouragement, uncaring of the impropriety of a man in the birthing room. He’d gone so far as to threaten the guards when they first told him that he should be waiting outside, enjoying the celebration being held in your and the babe’s name. 

“Try to keep me from my wife and I will decorate the floor with your guts,” he growled, his single eye burning with a thirsty flame.

The guards didn’t bother him after that.

“Oh, it hurts! Aemond, Aemond, please, it hurts,” you sobbed, another wave of pain washing over your body. “I need the baby out! Come out, come out, come out!” you screamed, skin burning hotly as more sweltering tears meandered down your perspiring face.

“It’ll be over soon, embar, you’re doing so well,” assured your husband, even though he looked every bit as terrified as you did, perhaps even more so. Gods forbid such a thing to happen, but if Aemond were to lose you to the perilous task of childbirth, he didn’t think he could ever live with himself afterwards. 

The midwives began telling you to push, and you happily obliged, eager to get the labor over and done with. 

It was said that your screams shook the very ground, but that might’ve just been Aemond exaggerating the truth out of proportion. 

“Congratulations, my Prince,” said one of the midwives once you’d pushed and pushed and pushed until you nearly passed out from the strain, the babe finally coming out of you with a shrill cry. Aemond could feel his heart lurch at the sound. “You have a beautiful, healthy girl.”

“Do not congratulate me, it is Y/N that did all the work,” muttered your husband, kissing the back of your clammy hand and sweeping the hair sticking to your face aside. “You were wonderful, jorrāelagon.” His face bore nothing but radiant pride, a rare beam stretching his lips wide. 

He stood up, turning to the midwife to look upon his small, screaming daughter, who was quickly bound in a red woolen blanket. She handed him the babe, and Aemond gently situated her into his arms.

“You have the lungs of a dragon, little one,” he crooned, expression bearing little else than raw love and adoration for the tiny thing. With fluid movements, he kneeled down beside the birthing bed once more, easing the baby into your awaiting arms. 

An exhausted smile made its way onto your face when you took the baby, cooing, “Oh, so you’re the one always kicking around during the night. It’s nice to meet you… Syraena.”

The baby—your daughter—sported thin wisps of silvery hair, much like her father and her grandsire. Targaryen blood ran thick, after all.

You turned to grin at Aemond. “She has your nose,” you murmured, voice thick with emotion and love.

Little Syraena’s wailing began to wane away as you bounced her, and she cracked open her tiny eyes for a brief moment, blinking up at the two of you with a wide gaze.

“And she shares the color of your beautiful eyes, embar. Rytsas, Syraena,” greeted Aemond, expression soft and ever so tender. One of his fingers reached out to gently stroke her soft, chubby cheek. For several moons, he’d read to her when she was still in the womb, and he wondered if she could recognize the sound of his voice. 

“My little dragon…” Aemond murmured. “My sea dragon.”

[dognonsense]

Question...how do you make your patches? They seem so fuckin cool. I'm working on a vest and a jacket atm, and I'd like for them to be done by the time a pride fest rolls around next month.

Main technique I use for making patches nowadays is linocut. Its best suited for mass production of patches.

Make sure to remember your carving the mirror image so you have to flip all the text. Using tracing paper to flip the design is a good trick, as well as leaving graphite marks on side, then pressing that to the lino to leave the marks in the same spot. Another trick with pencil is to view what ur carving in negative space quickly, put a paper over your design and shade over it with pencil, darker marks will be where you haven't carved yet.

I use speedball fabric ink, it takes 1 week to set then will be fine to be washed. I have magenta, violet, turqouise, and white. They have a limited range of fabric colors at the store. I have seen gold and silver fabric paint for sale and I will investigate it one day.

I use a speedball roller, i find the smaller one to be better than the big one as I can be more precise and waste less ink.

I got a fancy handle for $40 but the screws fallen out so its broken now so just get some heavy books. I used to use a mug. Whats important is pushing your whole body weight into it.

I got a speedball carving tool with different heads I can swap out so I can cut into the lino at different deepness and widths. The heads are stored inside the tool since its hollow and has a screwable removable bottom. I use linocut or dollar store erasers for my carvings. Make sure to wash the ink off your linocuts after your done using them.

A thing to increase the lifespan of you're linocuts is to use wood glue, some cork or wood pieces, and glued the lino stamps onto them. I dont do that yet so my stamps fall appart from overuse sometime and because I cut way too deep into the lino since I hate chatter.

Chatter is the term for in linocutting when theres little messy lines and stuff. It makes the art more recognisably to be linocut. My work is very clean with no chatter which is why people don't notice its linocut usually. This is a stylistic choice, with diy styles having a lot of chatter can look really cool so experiment with leaving bits of extra uncarvered lino sticking out in ur stamp. I need to experiment and buy some more lino.

You can also use multiple linocut stamps together to make a patch. Some patches ive made have like 8 different stamps. Ive made a dog nonsense patch where each letter was their own eraser stamp. You can also use different colors between the different lino stamps on the same patch to add more color. An effect I like to do is first stamp it in color, then the next day I stamp it in white over the same spot but shifted to the right and down slightly. It makes the text have a cool border 3D effect I love doing.

If making a more detailed picture with colors, i reccomend hand painting patches. I use white fabric paint mixed with acrylics for color to get all the shades i need. Acrylic paint mixed with fabric softener works too.

If doing words and you dont want a unique font reccomend using letter stamps. If you want a unique font for that i recommend hand paint for individual or linocut for mass produce.

The positive of letter stamps is the font is neat and can be done quickly. I know from lending them to my roommate that they are very helpful if you have dyslexia and have trouble getting letters right.

A visual effect of the letter stamps is that have a nice boxy edge effect, its an imperfection that adds a personally touch to it. I have both lower and upper case stamps that I got from michaels. You can use a hair band or elastic to hold a bunch of letter stamps together to make a word stamp.

You can use other stamps than letters that you find at craft stores for example my racoon print is a craftstore stamp.

You can also find big plastic letter stencils at the dollar store that you can use to do lettering by filling in gaps with a sponge or or paintbrush. They make special paintbrushes just for using stencils.

You can also get plastic stencils in the shapes of things, i got some for children and use a horse stencil for my horse smoking weed patch. Easier than drawing a horse myself.

Another technique I use for more unique clean patches is gel plating. I haven't tried printing laserprint images with it as ive seen online a lot but I will try one day. What i personally do is use it to make imprints with chains and physical objects.

Another thing i use with gelplates are any stamps or linocuts that dont have words, or words ones that i fucked up with and forgot to mirror when carving. It flips mirror image twice with the gel plate so it goes back to being right again on the patch.

Another patch making technique is using foamboard cut into shapes glued onto cardboard. This is good for a quick test of a design and is very cheap to make. It will not hold under water so is more difficult to clean.

[noyzinerd]

Derek teaching unknown werewolf societal/cultural facts to Stiles is cute, and I love that for them, truly, but I want to see the reverse.

We're always hearing about when someone (usually Stiles) asks a naive question about werewolves and Derek going "No, you idiot! It doesn't work like that!" As if it's common knowledge that everyone should know, when in reality there's no possible way Stiles (or any average person, for that matter) could know that.

And I'm sure in Derek's world, stuff like silver not actually being effective against werewolves is a no-brainer or spotting a Kitsune is laughably easy, but not to the common bystander.

So, instead, I'd love to see the random, human customs and social norms Stiles would find himself needing to explain to Derek when they start living together. Stuff that the human family members of his pack never displayed because they had been raised surrounded by werewolves their entire lives.

From all the small things like how, when you get a canker sore or lose a filling, you always gotta stick your tongue in it. ("No, we don't want to do it. It hurts like hell, actually. It's just something we do. Don't ask me why. I honestly couldn't tell you. It's the same with picking scabs or pressing down on bruises.")

Or like how you're not supposed to eat the weird, little black nub at the bottom of the banana. ("I don't care if it's composed of the exact same stuff as the rest of the banana, that's so fucking gross 🤢")

Or like how you have to walk around ladders instead of under them ("Because otherwise you'll get bad luck, Derek!")

Or how, for a short time in history, a man wearing a singular earring on his left ear meant that he was gay for some reason. Or was it the right ear? ("Hey, listen, man, I didn't make these dumb rules!")

Or how you can't pick up a penny off the ground unless the face side is heads up ("Yes, it's another 'good luck, bad luck' thing. We actually have a lot of those, now that I think about it.")

Or how if someone far away sees you coming and holds the door open for you, you very specifically have to do a customary tiny wave or acknowledging nod before doing a small little half trot-half jog that isn't too slow or too fast all the way to the door. ("Because you don't want to take up their time, but also you don't want them to think they've inconvenienced you. Yeah, no, I get that they already have, but you don't want THEM to know that.")

All the way up to things like the weird history of Coke Zero, even though Diet Coke is essentially the same thing. ("Oh, now see, that's actually pretty interesting. And by interesting, I mean dumb and terrible. See, in the 80's, Coke only ever marketed Diet Coke as a 'woman's drink', so when they finally decided to expand their demographic, they had to spend millions of dollars to undo their own conditioning because their women's only Diet Coke campaign had been so successful, it took decades for men to stop associating drinking diet soda with being gay or effeminate.")

Just so Derek can finally know what it feels like to be on the other end of "common sense."

[piratefishmama]

There was just something magical about a good Renaissance Faire. Something in the air that set Eddie’s little crow brain alight with excitement. Especially around December when Christmas loomed around the corner and snow dusted the ground.

Be it the shiny trinkets dangling from wooden hooks amidst the old wooden stalls, be it the haggling voices of stall vendors and customers, all dressed in garbs they’d likely sewn, dyed, modelled themselves, the smells of the food stalls, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting on the snow, the music played on lutes and sang from haybales for gathering crowds, be it the energy of likeminded folks all there to be a little bit weird, joyously, freely, without shame or judgement.

He could be himself there.

Dressed to the nines in layered fabrics purposefully aged and torn to simulate era appropriate wear and tear. His hair held silver trinkets, tied up by lengths of dark fabric in a messy up-do that’d taken Wayne a good few hours to figure out, and would no doubt take them both a hell of a lot of huffing and puffing to remove without cutting it out later. He had a cloak made out of a thick set of curtains he’d thrifted, dyed, and repurposed.

He had his bag, something he’d sewn himself out of extra fabric from those curtains, made with plenty of little pockets and places to put his spoils, he’d saved up for months to get as much out of this faire as possible because things weren’t CHEAP there.

Most things were handmade, most things were lovingly crafted by gifted individuals. He didn’t even want to haggle, he had money specifically for the faire! He was going to spend money on the endlessly talented individuals at the faire!

He got himself a new journal, leather bound with thick blank pages for sketching in. it was embossed with intricate swirling patterns around a pentagram that he’d absolutely get shit for if he ever pulled it out in public but it was beautiful, and it had a cool swing lock clasp.

He got himself a pretty necklace, wire wrapped with a fancy gem that he’d keep safe to use as a prop at some point.

He found some beautiful homemade dice, made in such a way that it looked like liquid moved inside of the dice, little flecks of glitter sloshing around a cloudy liquid inside the green tinted gold leaf inlaid resin with every roll, beautiful, eye catching, immensely satisfying to his little crow brain. Surprisingly enough they were the most expensive purchase he’d made at the faire, tiny little dice, fifty whole dollars. Not the most expensive thing he’d seen there, but definitely the most expensive thing he now owned from the trip.

They came with an incredibly pretty velvet dice bag though, which he hadn’t expected to get as a little freebie but the girl at the stall winked at him when she handed it over and wasn’t that a trip. The fabric was dyed to look like some kind of galaxy, with little silver and gold stars embroidered into it.

It made those dice a steal and he would treasure it and them, always.

He perused the fabric stalls, getting himself a cool hand painted scarf, detailed with a beautiful dragon that he’d find a good frame for later to hang up because it would not be worn, no siree. He grabbed a cool hand carved wooden mug for Wayne that looked like something straight out of a Viking’s mead hall, he’d give it to him for Christmas.

He got himself some food. He watched a joust, got a photo with the riders and their horses, one of which tried nibbling his hair, tipped the riders, and very quickly found himself running low on cash.

All that scrimping, and saving, and dealing… worth it. So very worth it.

So sue him if he looped back around and walked through again, he couldn’t afford much of anything else, he’d spent his last ten spot on a fridge magnet, had five left for gas station snacks on the way home, but that was fine, he could take photos, he’d borrowed Gareth’s camera, Gareth would have come but his parents had one stipulation for him attending the faire, and that was taking his failing grade in biology, and upping it to something that at least predicted a pass before thanksgiving.

He’d failed, and no amount of grovelling could fix it. No Ren Faire for you good sir!

Jeff was out of town with his family on some ‘visit all the out of state family members before Christmas snowstorms lock everything down’ country wide tour. And Dougie couldn’t get the time off his part time job to go.

So Eddie had promised plenty of photos to show them what they missed out on.

It was the very last stall at the end of the strip that caught his attention. Maybe it was the way the dying sunlight hit it, or the way the wind caught the chimes dangling from its flimsy rafters, he felt… called to it. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame and who was he, but a lowly little moth, to ignore the call of the fire?

So he wandered over, let himself be drawn in, offered a friendly little finger wave to the greying woman sat behind a makeshift counter wrapped in shawls and decorated in silver jewellery that jingled as she worked a single crotchet hook into a slowly coming together wine red shawl. The woman offered him a simple bow of her head and a small smile in response but no sales pitch.

No conversation of any kind really, she simply sat there while he looked, crocheting away without a care in the world. He could appreciate that, not being bothered by pushy sales tactic, especially when he had so few funds left to play with, he always felt guilty when he couldn’t afford what they were selling.

Like why was he even there if he had no money to spend?

The old woman didn’t do that, allowing him to wander through her surprisingly large stall full of little trinkets and goodies uninterrupted, which was for the best because had she spoke, he might not have stayed long enough to spot it. Amidst the little boxes decorated with carved patterns and pretty gemstones, amidst the scarves, crocheted bags, amidst the leather work belts, and wallets sat a single, solitary little bottle.

Sealed with a cork coated in wax and pressed with a decorative seal in a shape too worn down to really make out but obvious that it’d at one point had a shape. The bottle was hand blown, not manufactured, lightly frosted a dark brown to a brilliant amber around its square base, the colour crept up the smooth sides towards its seal, like a diamond in shape.

The bottle wasn’t empty either.

Much like the dice that’d caught his crow brain hook line and sinker earlier, this little bottle was filled with some kind of liquid. It swirled like a galaxy inside, and at the centre a brilliant light that looked like it held its own sun, always at the centre of the swirl, never distorting or shifting out of place, eternal in its circular flow.

It was warm in his hands. He didn’t even realise he’d picked it up.

“Two dollars.” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin, whirling around, the bottle tight in his grip. That old woman had moved. And she’d done so with a quiet stealth some might attribute to a ninja, which was impressive considering how much jewellery she wore.

“Huh?” So eloquent of him.

“Just two dollars, child. The bottle? It is… calling to you, yes?” He couldn’t place her accent, something foreign, European maybe, he had no idea but it definitely didn’t sound any parts American. “I take two dollars for it, will bring you luck.” He looked back to the bottle, eyeing the swirl that still held its pattern even as he’d jostled it, like nothing could knock it out of its gentle swirl, then back to the old woman.

What was two dollars, really?

He had five left, if nothing else the bottle could make a really cool prop, and if it did bring him luck, then hey bonus. Who was he to argue with a mysterious old lady at a Renaissance Faire? “You uh… you got yourself a deal, ma’am.” She smiled brightly at him, eyes alight with both happiness and… something else, something that reflected in the light that he didn’t think hard enough about. She accepted the five dollars he had left, she gave him his change, and a little paper bag filled with tissue to hold his new purchase, which he didn’t really need as he put it right into his own bag after receiving his change, and then she sent him on his way, uncaring as to whether or not he wanted to look at her other wares.

He’d gotten the bottle. Nothing else mattered apparently. Maybe he should have found that suspicious, but why would he?

As soon as he left the little stall, all thought of it seemed to wash away from his mind leaving him freely wandering back to the entrance where his trusty steed, his Van, awaited him to take him home. Blissfully unaware of the little bottle he’d just purchased. Blissfully forgetful of the stall he’d visited, of the old woman he’d just met, of her smile, her eyes, her mysterious accent.

All of which was for the best, really, as if he’d thought about it, if he’d taken a single moment to stop and look back to the little stall at the end of the row, the little stall that held more treasures than it should have been able to for its size, if he’d looked back to wave his goodbyes to the old woman and her treasures, he’d have found nothing.

No stall, no woman, no trinkets or treasures. Just a single row of recycling bins and benches.

But he didn’t look back.

Definitely for the best.

Part 2

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Get It For You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe is determined to make his angel's wants come true.

A/N: Inspired by this video.

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron is a loving and devoted boyfriend. He is always trying to provide for Y/N and get her everything she wants. However, even with all the money he possesses, the universe seems to be against letting him give her exactly what she wants tonight. She watches as his hand moves the joystick in the direction of the pink unicorn and holds her breath as she watches him press the button that lowers the claw. For the second time tonight, the claw wraps around the toy but raises without the prize. “Ughh, this thing is a piece of crap,” he groans, kicking it. The bartender looks over at the couple, “Hey, man! Don’t kick my shit.” Y/N yells over an apology, glaring at her boyfriend slightly. “Rafe, it’s okay. You’ve tried twice already, I really don’t need it,” she reassures. Her hand places itself on his chest and gives him a small rub of comfort. 

He pulls out of her touch to put more money in the machine and focuses on trying again. His new effort doesn’t work, leaving him empty-handed and more frustrated. As he pays for another round, she speaks up. “Seriously, Rafe. Let’s just go home. I’m tired.” He shakes his head, “No. You want this damn unicorn and I’m going to get it for you like any good boyfriend would.” “You are a great boyfriend. Winning me the stuffed animal isn’t going to prove anything that I don’t already know,” she says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He looks over his shoulder to give her a kiss on the cheek, “It’s going to prove how much I care about you. Now, please, let me get it for you, Angel.”

Y/N knows arguing is futile, so she takes his credit card and goes to sit at a table to get something to eat. This is going to be a very long night. 

——

Three hours later, Y/N and Rafe are still in the same positions. She is hunched over a book at the table and he is sitting on the bar stool he brought over to the claw machine. It has to be hundreds of games later, but he doesn’t care about his aching wrist. They are the only patrons in the bar and the bartender is now glaring daggers at Rafe while giving Y/N a sympathetic look. The bartender moves out from behind the bar and approaches Rafe. Rafe ignores the man, focusing entirely on the unicorn. “You got to go now. I’m closing up,” the worker says in a gruff voice. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “We can’t. I need to get this stuffed animal for my angel.” “Nope, you need to go. Come on, man. Look how tired your girl is. Just cut your losses and go home,” the man disagrees, gesturing toward Y/N. Rafe looks at her and notices the way her eyes are fluttering open and closed and then sighs. 

He gets off of the bar stool and heads over to her. He grabs her purse on the table, kissing her lips as an apology. “I’m sorry I made you stay so late, Angel. Let’s get you to bed,” he suggests. Her arm slings over his neck and they walk out to his car. When they get home, they go through their typical nighttime routine and fall into bed together, going to sleep in each other’s hold.

——

Y/N gets home the next day to find Rafe’s bed littered with stuffed animals. Front and centre is the pink unicorn with silver hooves. Rafe walks out of his bathroom, spotting his girlfriend with a grin. “You like it, Angel?” he wonders, coming to give her a kiss. She gives a small chuckle, “I love it,  Rafe. But how did you get all of them? It must have taken you all day.” He gives her a sheepish look and he doesn’t want to admit what really happened, but he can’t keep a secret from her. “Actually, I just went back to the bar and offered the owner a thousand dollars for all of them,” he admits and this really gets Y/N laughing. “Rafe, you know all of this is probably worth like fifty dollars. A hundred, max.” His head buries itself in her neck to hide his embarrassment, “I know. But what my angel wants, she gets. And I wasn’t about to let one little unicorn get in the way of that.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 34

part 1 | part 33 | ao3

Steve ducks his head against the flurries falling outside The Hideout as he makes his way for the entrance and tries really, really hard to not to feel totally out of place.

He agreed to meet Robin and her friends here separately because he was coming straight from a shift, but he’s kind of regretting that now. The only black thing he had in his wardrobe that was at all weather appropriate was a tight-fitting black knit pullover with a high collar and a silver zipper down the front, and he feels like some dorky, supportive golf dad coming to cheer on his rebellious son after a long day out on the green. The light wash jeans and silver wristwatch aren’t really helping matters.

Jesus. He should have let Robin dress him.

The guy at the ticket counter seems to agree because he gives Steve a weird look when he approaches and asks, “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no.” And if it comes out slightly more bitchy than he intended, well—

“Five dollars,” the guy scowls.

Strike that. Maybe it didn’t come out nearly bitchy enough. “The flyer says it’s two.”

The guy eyes him up with a tight, sarcastic smile and pops his chewing gum. “For you it’s five.”

Oh, my god. Operation Woo Your Man might be dead before it starts, because Steve’s about to smash the ticket booth window and pummel this fucking guy.

“I already got yours!” Robin calls brightly, jogging up behind him on the sidewalk and waving a lime green wristband. “He’s good,” she tells the guy, then tells Steve, “Eddie said to give you this.”

Ticket guy frowns, and Steve gloats as Robin fixes the bracelet to his wrist. Yeah, buddy, you heard that right; I'm with the band.

Robin drags him into the bar, and he stops her just inside the door, hugging her tight enough to lift her up on tiptoe, smacking a kiss to the side of her head. He jostles her around until something in her neck pops, and when he lets her go she groans, “Oh, my god, do that again.”

She spins around, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve grabs her by the elbows; shakes her like a piggy bank until her spine goes crack-crack-crack.

“Wow,” she sighs dreamily when he sets her down. “Marry me.”

“You can’t just marry me for my massage services.”

“I know; it’s tragic. Anyway, come on.” She takes his hand. “Everyone’s already at the table.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Robin doesn’t answer — probably can’t hear him over the loud rock music pouring through the speakers — but she weaves them through the venue, skirting the edge of the main floor.

Steve’s never actually been in here, but it’s pretty much what he expected: black walls, black floor, black leather jackets on the handful of regulars. The stage is off to their left, already set up with Eddie’s band’s gear by the looks of it, though he doesn’t see them anywhere. Must be backstage getting ready.

In front of the stage is a small, empty dance floor, flanked by rickety tables with mismatched chairs, and overhead there’s a balcony with a sound booth and more seats. To their right, the main bar: a long, ancient dark wood counter that’s been graffitied to absolute shit, covered in band stickers and beer labels and ‘so and so wuz here’s, and just up ahead, lining the far wall, Steve spots a row of wraparound booths.

Dark red leather, the stuffing spilling out through time-worn splits. Only one of them is occupied. Steve can’t make out much from this distance beyond the vague shape of the people sitting there, but considering it’s the only table with any chicks at it, he figures that’s their group.

Suddenly, Robin stops. Turns around to look at him; drops his hand and bites her lip. “Okay, so. Don’t get mad…”

Steve narrows his eyes. He knows that guilty grimace. Whatever it is, he’s definitely about to get mad about it, or at very least annoyed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Robin.”

“Okay!” She steps to the side, and he marches toward the table to try and get a better view, Robin trailing after him, rambling, “For the record, I really didn’t do it, I swear! But, like— well, Beth is friends with Fred, and Fred is on the school paper, so I guess he just—”

The details shift into focus: tiny frame, rigid posture. Big, curly dark brown hair.

Oh, son of a bitch. No. No.

Nancy Wheeler’s here.

—

part 35

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[yuyanwrites]

Hello, how are you?

Could I request BSD headcannons with Sigma, Poe, Dazai or Chuuya about someone proposing to the reader in front of them!

No pressure with this, if you don't want to do it!

Betrothed to another (fluff ver.)

Dazai, Chuuya, Poe, and sigma x gn!reader (separate)

A/n: I'm indecisive so I'm doing an angsty and fluff ver. ^^

Tags: Established relationship (with character), a child has an innocent crush on reader (and "proposes" to them)

Dazai

He's so childish omg

Argues with the kid

Probably snatched the two-dollar ring the child gave to you

The child would be like "(Name)! Will you marry me?" while holding up a cheap silver ring.

Meanwhile Dazai let out a loud gasp while putting his hand on his forehead like a damsel in distress. "No way! (Name) is marrying me!"

Cue their arguing

Its a back and forth really and you tried to stop their fight but you ended up giving up

You didn't want to break the kid's keart but at the same time you didn't want to deal with an overdramatic dazai

Eventually, the two come to an agreement

The agreement being whoever gets you to agree to marry them first, keeps you

Its silly and you laughed a little at this but dazai is already thinking about what ring to get you in the next week

Chuuya

They're just a kid he told himself

They don't even know about what love actually is

They probably just copied their parents or the disney movies they watched

But then said kid waved the ring in front of your face for the millionth time, still on one knee and was doing a whole speech about how much better than him they are

He couldn't take it

Argues with the kid #2

He really tried to reason with the kids patiently

Explained the kid's crush and how that doesn't equate to marriage and how marriage is a huge commitment and responsibility and everything

However, we all know he has anger issues so after an hour he's arguing with the kid

No agreement, the kid's parents came to pick them up and asked how their last lesson went (You're their tutor) and left

Please comfort Chuuya he's all sulky and grumpy now :(

Poe

The only mature one tbh

Socially awkward

He kind of just stands there

Watching you two with a little frown

He wants to intervene and calmly explain to the child why that's not possible but he gets tongue tied

He tries to write a little scenario to explain love and everythig hfdsakhfjdiksaj hes so sweet <3

Got completely ignored

Got a little upset because of that but stays calm and collected

Instead he lets you handle it while he makes all three of you something to eat

Karl is there to comfort him dw <3

Give him lots of kisses and cuddles after, he deserves it after all he did try

Sigma

Bro is basically a kid in a man's body anyways

Omg does anyone ever think of him of like a man-child ok off topic sorry

I think he'd be a mix of sulky and understanding

At first he'd be a little sad, yeah like just sad, not upset or frustrated like the first two

Just sad

But then he realises its fine because its a kid and he knows you love him <3

It was probably a random kid you babysat spotting you in public

They ran up to you in the mall with a ring in hand and proposed

The parents scolded the kid and apologised to the both of you so there wasn't much to do

Sigma is still understanding the concept of love so he's very understanding after his mini-sadness-phase

Probably smiled at the kid and walked away completely unphased after tbh

Very chill

[whimsi-clown]

What's the Best Way to Start a Story? Ah, yes. Death.

Part 1 of the Reverse lsekai Disney Villains x Modern Reader AU

(That I made on a whim)

Warning: Lots of Curse Words and a bit OOC

In a series of unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you view things) events, your eccentric rich bitch of an employer had just died.

Sad, I know. But they had it coming. Sorta.

Nobody really liked them. They were, to put it bluntly, an asshole of the highest degree, and they didn't have any living relatives or descendants.

As such, with you being the only person in existence who still stuck by them, gave a shit about them, and had the balls to deal with all of their bullshit, they decided to leave you with their inheritance.

From their large plot of land to their unrealistically big ass mansion with a private beach close by, along with everything inside of it. Money included.

It was all yours for the taking, and you were all too eager to accept.

At this point, you had everything you needed to live the life of your dreams. A large plot of land, a mansion, a near infinite amount of money.

Now, all you needed left in this big and lonely mansion...

Was companionship...

...

Yea, no. We'll skip that for now.

So, with that in mind, after setting down the remaining boxes of your belongings that you had just brought in, you decided to stroll through the halls of the place, eager to familiarize yourself with your new home.

Your eyes perking in interest as you spot a door that you had never seen before, curiously entering it with a new wave of excitement as to what you could find (or possibly sell) on the other side.

Nothing could ruin this day for you!

.

.

.

.

.

Something has just ruined this day for you.

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face as 12 of the most iconic Disney Villains settled on the set of couches before you with crossed arms, disgruntled expressions, and glares aimed your way.

Maleficent sat on the lone couch to your left, while Grimhilde, the evil queen, sat on the other couch to your right, both looking at you with displeased glares.

On the main couch sat Ursula, Cruela De Vil, Dr. Facilier and Jafar. All sharing the same disgruntled expression, like they have better things to do than be in this predicament.

And those who decided to stand behind the couch were Hades, Captain Hook, Shan Yu, and Gaston. All of them with their arm crossed.

Finally, seated on the carpeted floor before the couches are Scar and Oogie Boogie. Who looked bored out of their minds.

You let out yet another groan.

How did you end up in this situation again??

Ah, right. The mysterious room.

For those of you who are wondering, here's what went down literal hours ago.

You had entered what looked like an old storage room, flicked the light switch on, and discovered that it was filled to the brim with various antiques and junk.

Looking around, you felt like a kid in a candy store, discovering the various curious objects that your former employer collected, lining each shelf.

Everything was so interesting (and sellable) to you.

But what stood out to you the most, though, was an assortment of random items set up on a row of pedestals.

A staff broken in half, a shattered mirror, an unlit greek looking torch lying on its side, a dusty lamp, a tarnished silver hook, a vintage hunting rifle, an old scattered deck of tarot cards, a weird wavy looking sword (a quick google search informed you that it was a serrated jagged jian), a lion skull (not even gonna question how your employer got their hands on these ethically), a gold nautilus shell necklace, an exotic black and white fur coat of some animal (again, not gonna question how they were ethically acquired), and finally a set of red hand carved dices.

With a wide shit eating grin and dollar signs in your eyes, you decided on the spot that these would definitely sell for a large amount of money and decided to take a picture of them to post online.

However, before you could take the shot, you realized something.

No one would buy any of this junk if you sell them as they looked now, like junk!

So, with a new goal in mind, you quickly set out to grab whatever cleaning materials you could find.

And when you came back, you glued together the two broken parts of the staff, put back the pieces of the shattered mirror back in place, set the unlit greek torch up, rubbed the dust off of the lamp, polished the silver hook, cleaned the vintage hunting rifle, stacked and rearanged the deck of tarot cards, sharpened the weird wavy sword, dusted the lion skull, washed the gold nautilus shell pendant in soapy water, and brushed the exotic fur coat.

When all was done, you stood back with your hands on your hips, a prideful grin stretching across your face at having cleaned all of the useless junk before you.

If only you had the same amount of energy and enthusiasm when it comes to cleaning the rest of your house.

You were about to take a picture again when you realized you weren't completely done. There was still one item left.

The pair of red dice.

You stared down at the dices in contemplation. For some reason, something about them didn't seem to sit right with you.

One dice had a six facing up, while the other had a five. Making it an eleven in total.

You grabbed the dices, shaking them around in the palm of your hand and without much of a thought, threw them onto its pedestal. Watching as it rolled on the surface before stopping, both dices landed on a one.

Snake eyes.

All of a sudden, the lights in the room started to flicker and turn off completely, leaving you in the dark.

You cursed under your breath as you were about to turn the flashlight on your phone when you noticed that the dices were glowing green, like one of those shitty glow in the dark star stickers you had as a kid.

Suddenly, the dices weren't the only thing glowing as the fur coat was glowing white, followed by the shell pendant glowing gold, the lion skull glowing green, the sword glowing a dull blue, the tarot deck glowing purple, the hunting rifle glowing red, the hook glowing gold as well, the lamp glowing red too, the torch glowing blue which also lit up in blue flames on it's own, the mirror glowing purple, and finally the staff glowing green.

Each of the items slowly hovered in the air, wind seeming to pick up around you despite the lack of windows, and then suddenly a burst of green smoke spread throughout the room, temporarily blinding you as you coughed into your fist.

You swatted your hands around to clear the smoke, rubbing your teary eyes when a sound caught your attention. Not just any sound, it was the sound of a person, no, people! It was the sound of people!

When the smoke finally cleared, you were greeted by the sight of a dogpile of people, all groaning and moaning in pain, some muttering curses under their breaths as they struggled to get up from their current positions.

"Get off of me, you fools!"

A comanding feminine voice exclaimed.

"Ugh, you first, I can feel you stepping on my tail."

Another masculine voice grumbled.

"Ugh, get your slimey apendeges off of me, woman!"

Another masculine voice exclaimed in disgust.

"For the last time. It's not slime, you narcissistic oaf, it's mucus!"

Yet another feminine voice retorted.

"She's actually right, ya know? It's mucus, not slime. Had to learn that the hard way."

Yet another masculine voice says, agreeing with the person who spoke before them.

Whilst they were still arguing with one another, you figured now would be a great time to escape, slowly backing away, careful not to make a sound when you flinch as your back hits something sturdy and warm.

With a nervous gulp, you slowly crained your neck up only to see a tall gray skinned man with shark like teeth and blue flames for hair, looking down at you with a wide toothy grin.

"Hey there, nice to meet cha', you goin' somewhere, babes?"

The gray man asked in a casual tone, a hint of a threat hidden beneath it. Before you could respond, you yelped in surprise as you were suddenly grabbed by the back collar of your shirt and lifted a few feet away from the ground.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?~"

You froze as you were suddenly face to face with a big talking sack, your face growing pale when you noticed a centipede crawling out of its open stitched mouth.

The thing before you seemed to notice this, grinning even wider as they brought you closer to its face.

"What's wrong, little one? You feeling ssscaareeddd?~"

A snake had just slithered out of its mouth like a tongue and hissed at you as it trailed off the word 'scared'. Which made you scream as you kicked at his face in response, causing the thing to drop you as it held its face in pain.

"UGH! YOU LITTLE-"

The commotion seemed to finally catch the others' attention, finally registering your presence.

Before you could run off and escape, though, a tendril of black smoke wrapped around you, restricting your movement as it pulled you closer to the blue flame headed guy who merely chuckled as you thrashed around in his grip, successfully getting your arms out before trying to tug and yank the rest of the smokey tendrils off of you.

"Hey, fellas, I think I found the culprit to our little... Heh, predicament..."

The blue flame haired guy announced as he pulled you closer to him and grabbed ahold of your cheeks with one hand, forcing you to face the rest of the group.

The rest of them then approached, crowding around and glaring down at you.

"So you're the reason why we're in this mess... Speak. Why have you brought us here?"

The beautiful woman before you asked, no, commanded. Her pose is regal and sophisticated even as she looks down on you. She wore a golden crown atop her head, with a purple velvet dress and a black cape.

Your face morphed in confusion as you stared up at her, practically scanning her features.

For some reason, you feel like you've met her before.

You turn to the others as well, scanning them from head to toe.

A tall mean looking lady with greenish skin and black horns, a grumpy arabian guy dressed in red and black, a big intimidating asian dude, a woman with melanie martinez's hair but if she were emo, a guy that looks like a himbo, a fat drag queen with tentacles and light purplish skin, twinkish looking man with a fancy hat dressed in all red, twinkish looking man with a fancy hat no. 2 dressed in all purple, and a literal fucking lion.

After staring at the crowd before you, you turned your head back to properly look at the other three you had just met. The fat sack of creepy crawlies, the shark teethed flame head, and the literal fucking queen.

Stupid. That's what you currently felt. Not scared, not happy. Stupid.

How could you not recognize the people before you?? They were your literal childhood before you grew out of them. Gods, you felt so dumb for not realizing it sooner!

They were all Disney Villains!

Noticing that you seemed disappointed about something rather than fearful of their presence, the villains turned to one another with looks of confusion. Not used to this kind of reaction.

Hades, who still held you hostage decided to shake you out of whatever it is you were so hung up about.

"Oy, kid. You still with us? Kinda rude to just space out on people ya know?"

He asked, successfully snapping you out of your momentary internal berating.

"I... I know you guys..."

You muttered out loud, still in disbelief of the situation.

This caused the villains to smirk and perk up a little smugly, their ego rising at the thought of being recognized by someone they deemed lesser than then. Especially a certain muscle head.

"Ah yes, of course you've heard about the great Gasto-"

"You're all disney villains!"

You unintentionally cut off him off, your eyes widening as you clamped your mouth shut with your hands in realization of your mistake.

The villains were also caught off guard, not by your interruption, but by your statement.

"Disney... Villains?..."

Shan Yu slowly repeated, confusion evident in his tone.

You kept your mouth clamped shut, refusing to respond until a silver hook was pressed against your neck.

"You better spill, little one, or I'll slice through that pretty little neck of yours, and you don't want that now, do you?"

Captain Hook threatened, pressing his hook closer to your neck, nearly breaking the skin.

That was what led to all of you gathered in the living room, after begging asking to be released so you could explain to them, glancing at each disney villain from Maleficent to Oogie Boogie.

When Oogie Boogie noticed that you had glanced down at him, he sent you an eerie grin that made shivers crawl down your spine.

Out of all the Disney Villains present, He unsettled you the most.

The other's existence was reasonable and made sense to you.

Evil human beings of higher power and capabilities? Fine. A literal dark fae, an octupus lady, and a greek god? Good. A talking lion? Amazing. But a literal walking, talking, sack of bugs?

Burn it to the ground.

You take in a deep breath, exhaling through your nose in an effort to stay calm (spoiler alert it is not working) as you face the group of animated evil doers come to life with an uneasy smile.

"So... What would you like to know first?"

End of Part 1

Next Part

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part I

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 4K+

STORY PAGE

You could spot the birthday parties from across the room. Beautiful, rich kids and socialites tend to go all out, with the balloons and banners, ordering bottles or at the very least, top shelf cocktails by the dozens. On occasion, you might get a wealthy middle-aged businessman, or some guy who just made his first half-mil in crypto, ready to live it up for the night, but they usually kept a lower profile, not attracting as much attention to their celebration.

Zelda’s was a swanky, high-dollar lounge for the rich and the wannabes. In your two years as a cocktail waitress there, you’d learned how to spot the difference. Those with money knew how to spend it. Those that were only there for one evening of “let’s pretend” spent frivolously, cashing it in before - or sometimes after - going belly-up.

Tonight seemed to be just like every other weekend evening, the corner booths filled with decorations and Gucci-lipped twenty-somethings taking cell phone pics of each other. You gave your best fake smile, ready to serve anyone willing to blow a few hundred on drinks and hopefully dishing out hefty tips.

“What can I get you, doll?” you asked the blond at the end of the half-circle booth.

She gave you a quizzical look at first, as though you had just interrupted a private conversation. Then with a flip of her hair, she smiled at her group.

“Oh, I think Harry was gonna order for us all,” she said. “It’s his birthday.”

“And which one is Harry?” you grinned at the three young men who shared the booth, all dressed in suit jackets with their shirts unbuttoned past their pecs. Everyone at the table pointed to the dark-haired guy who sat in the center with his hands up.

“That would be me,” he remarked nonchalantly in a syrupy British accent.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Harry,” you raised your voice over the loud music. “What are we having for this celebration?”

“Tequila, the best you’ve got,” he replied, his ringed finger gesturing in a circle. “All around. And a bottle of Cristal.”

Two of the girls at the table cheered, clearly impressed with Harry’s selection.

“Sounds like a good party to me,” you nodded. “Be right back.”

Heading over to the bar, you heard the group cackle behind you. Then one of the girls shouted, “Stop it!” When you reached the edge of the bar, giving John, the bartender your order, you snuck a glance over at the table. The girl sitting next to Harry held her cell phone up to take a photo, the birthday boy with his tongue in her ear. Clearly the group had gotten a head start on drinks before they’d ever arrived.

“Another one of those, huh, Y/N?” scoffed John.

“Same shit, different day,” you commented, shaking your head. “Gimme one of the birthday glasses, will you?”

“Ah, which Paris Hilton wannabe is the birthday girl? Lemme guess…the blonde in the silver bandeau top getting her ear tongue fucked.”

You chuckled. “Try the fucker.”

“Oh yeah?” John raised a brow, placing the bottle of Cristal on your tray. “The himbo, eh? Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Why not?”

“Imposter Armani suit? I can spot it a mile away, honey.”

You laughed as he finished pouring the tequila. “Guess he’s out of his element. But he obviously wants to impress on his birthday.”

“From the look of the caliber of girls he’s with, I’d say I don’t blame him.”

You nodded, carefully taking the tray. You knew what John meant. Harry may have not been the typical socialite to walk through Zelda’s doors, but the women in his company obviously were. And they expected to be treated as such.

Returning to the table, you gave your biggest smile as you set out the tequila. You noticed Harry eyeing you as the rest of the group claimed a glass.

“This is your best tequila?” he asked, almost in a huff as though you couldn’t have possibly selected the best.

“Definitely,” you replied. “It’s a Siete Leguas.”

“Hmm.” Lifting his glass, he let the liquid swirl before taking a sniff.

“Smells good to me,” remarked the blond next to him. “But I don’t know much about tequila.”

Harry took a slow sip, his eyes still on you above the rim of his glass.

“What d’ya say, H?” asked one of the other gentlemen.

“It’ll do.”

Trying your best not to react negatively, you chewed your bottom lip. “I can get you something else if you like.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Not bothering to mask your frown, you took a deep breath through your nostrils. This was gonna be a long night.

“Would you like me to pop the champagne now?” you asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Harry gestured with his hand, taking another sip of his tequila.

Taking the bottle, you opened it with finesse, just the way you’d been taught and had been doing since you’d started working at Zelda’s. The girls all cheered when the cork popped. Harry, however, was not impressed.

Grabbing the special birthday glass, you began to pour.

“What the fuck is that?” spat Harry.

“It’s for you,” you smiled.

“I don’t want that. Gimme one of the regular champagne glasses.”

“I’ll take it!” beamed the blond on the end. “It’s cute!”

Harry rolled his eyes before handing the glass to her with a smirk.

“Here, Tawnie,” he said. “Pretend it’s your birthday.”

“Aw, yay!” she giggled with glee.

Trying to keep your composure, you poured another glass of Cristal, handing it to Harry.

“Shouldn’t ladies go first?” he remarked, scooting the glass to the girl next to him.

“God, I’m gonna be so wasted,” she laughed.

Swallowing hard, you knew where this was headed, so you poured champagne for the other two girls, then passed around the remaining glasses to the guys, leaving the last for Harry.

“Happy Birthday,” you said again, this time with no enthusiasm. “Enjoy.”

Leaving the bottle on the table, you turned away, cursing under your breath before making your way back to the bar.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kill me now,” you whined at John.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s a petulant, disrespectful asshole!”

“The good looking ones usually are,” John sighed.

“You think he’s good looking?” you twisted slightly to look over at the booth. Harry was laughing at something one of the other guys had said.

“Honey, don’t tell me you didn’t notice!” chuckled John.

“I was too busy wanting to pour tequila over his head,” you grimaced.

“Well, try not to let it get to you, hon. Just be your sweet self, and get that massive tip. The night will be over, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

With a nod and a sigh, you took the refills for the next table, handing them out with a bright smile. The older gentlemen gave you a thanks and a wink, one of them patting your behind as you bent over. You hated being fondled at work, but if you had a choice, you’d take that any day over dealing with jerks like Harry.

“Excuse me!” you heard someone shout as you started to make your way back to the bar. Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” you grinned, stepping over to Harry’s table. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I get a glass of wat-” asked a brunette before Harry rudely interrupted.

“We need water,” he said, accusingly.

“Sure, no problem. All around?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes. Apparently this man lived to be constantly perturbed.

“I’ll get those for you right now.”

“That should have been like…a given, right?” he remarked. “What waitress doesn’t automatically bring water?”

With a sigh, you slid your tray under your arm, pressing your hand on your hip.

“If you want water…or anything for that matter…you can ask for it!” you barked. “I’m happy to bring it to you. But you don’t have to treat me like an imbecile!”

“Jeez,” one of the other guys muttered under his breath.

“What?” Harry glared at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You heard me, Birthday Boy! I’m just doing my job!”

As you started to turn away, you heard him mutter, “Doesn’t look like it,” followed by the rest of the group either giggling or shouting “Ooooh!”

You decided not to delight him with a response. Instead, you strutted to the bar where your darling pal John was already getting water glasses ready.

“Fuck me sideways, girl, that was rough!” he exclaimed.

“I’m done, John! I can’t deal with these assholes anymore!”

“Uh oh, looks like you may have to,” John averted his eyes to the glasses in front of him. Turning to see what he was talking about, you nearly ran into Mr. Personality.

“You owe me an apology,” he growled.

“Excuse me? I think it’s the other way around!” you yelled.

“I’m out with my friends for my birthday,” he explained, gesturing toward the table, “and I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me.”

“The way I’m tr-” you turned beet red. “How dare you! You entitled, self-centered prick!”

“Easy, girl!” you heard John shout, but you paid no mind. You were ready to have it out with this guy.

“What did you call me?”

“Y/N!” someone else shouted. Looking up, you noticed your boss, a scowl on his face as the entire lounge had turned their focus on your encounter. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

“Are you the manager?” asked Harry.

“Yes, sir, how can I assist you?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he began, “but your waitress here seems to have a problem with me. I’m here celebrating my birthday with my mates, and she’s gone out of her way to be rude to me all evening.”

“What?!?!” you shouted incredulously.

“Y/N, did you have a problem with this young man?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s the other way around. He’s been nothing but rude since-”

“She just called me a prick,” Harry interjected.

“Because you’re being one!” You glared at the asshole, shooting daggers at him. You felt like your insides were on fire as you held your hands in fists at your sides.

“Y/N, if you can’t control your temper, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” said your boss.

“I’m sorry, but he’s so rude, Mr-”

“Y/N,” your boss narrowed his eyes at you, before turning to Harry. “Sir, I do apologize for my employee. We do not condone this kind of behavior at our lounge.”

You watched Harry as his shoulders fell, a breath releasing from his nose. “I should hope not.”

“Now…” your boss added. “What can we do to rectify this situation? Perhaps we can put your tab on the house?”

Harry raised his brows, surprised at the offer. “That would…yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

Your boss nodded, patting Harry on the back. “No problem whatsoever. I hope you’ll come see us again.”

“Not if she’s here,” Harry scowled.

“I assure you, that won’t happen.”

With a gasp, you watched your boss turn around and face you. “Get your things, Y/N,” he said in the most relaxed voice possible, as though you weren’t just getting canned.

“Are you serious?” you cried.

“We don’t talk to our patrons this way,” he explained. “I won’t allow it. Now, put your apron away and clock out.”

Your jaw set, you tried your best not to cry. No, you wouldn’t allow yourself to. Not in front of him.

“Fine,” you said, untying your apron. You slapped it down hard on the bar, then turned for the back room, but not before noticing the sly, satisfied smirk on jerkhead’s face.

Only when you reached the back room did you let the tears fall. Cursing at yourself, at Harry, and your boss, and at the entire situation, you managed to grab your jacket and purse. You almost forgot to clock out, but you figured you might not get paid otherwise. Sitting on the dark green leather sofa, you waited until you thought Harry and his crew might be gone. Then wiping your eyes, you stood up, nearly bumping into John.

“Oh, Y/N, honey I’m so sorry!” he cried, wrapping you in a big hug.

“What the fuck, John? Why does he get to win?”

“I don’t know. The whole ‘the customer is always right’ thing, I guess.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” you sobbed against his chest..

“Preaching to the choir, sister.”

“Is he gone yet?”

“Mr. Pretentious? Yeah, he left a few minutes ago. Want me to walk you out?”

With a nod, you let John walk you halfway through the lounge until you met up with your boss again who insisted he be the one to see you out. Just in case you were to cause a scene or some shit. As if you would. Not after that whole ordeal. You felt completely defeated…and deflated. You felt the eyes on you as you made it to the front door. Your boss held it open for you as you stepped into the balmy night air. With a sigh you walked to your car, turning once to give Zelda’s the middle finger.

Fuck that Harry guy. Fuck him to hell and back.

“Are you ready?” asked Shae.

With a sigh and a nod, you grabbed your keys. Last month you had promised your roommate that you’d go with her to get a tattoo. While you had been thrilled then about getting some new ink, after getting fired from Zelda’s, the excitement had worn off. In fact, you’d considered canceling all together, seeing as spending dough on a tat now seemed frivolous, and you could certainly use the money in case you couldn’t find another job soon. But in the end, you decided you owed yourself some kindness. And besides, Shae was chomping at the bit to get one, and she wouldn’t let you live until you went with her.

You drove to Fine Line Ink, just a few blocks from your apartment. You’d driven by it several times, but had never gone inside. Shae specifically requested this tattoo shop because apparently it was fairly well-known on social media. At least your roommate had done her research, even though she had no idea what tattoo she wanted to get.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” she’d insisted.

You heard 90s rock music playing when you opened the door, but saw no one standing near the counter, or even in the waiting area. The front room was dark, but with warm lighting, much like at Zelda’s. You could smell incense burning as you gazed around at the walls decorated in various designs. Wandering over to the glass counter, you inspected the display of body jewelry.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you heard a voice say.

Your body instantly felt cold as you stood up straight. You knew that voice. And it was one you’d hoped you would never have to hear again. Turning around, you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, his t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, his biceps peeking out from the sleeves.

Motherfucker.

“Hey,” beamed Shae. “We’re here to get tats.”

Shae gestured toward you, and your body went numb.

“Oh?” Harry raised a brow, then looked at you. The recognition and disdain both happened instantly. “Oh.”

Turning back to Shae, he asked, “Do you know what you want?”

“Not exactly,” she shrugged. “Nothing too big. But not too small either.”

Harry chuckled. “Alright. I have a book right here,” he pointed to one on the counter. “It’s got some ‘not too big, not too small’ ideas in there, if you wanna take a look.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“Take your time,” Harry grinned at her. “I’ll be back.”

He gave Shae a small wave, but you didn’t miss the way his expression changed when he glanced at you before he disappeared to the back.

“So what are you thinking of getting?” your friend asked as she perused the book. She stopped on a page of flowers, but scrunched up her nose. “Nah.”

“Um…let’s go somewhere else,” you told Shae, practically pulling her arm out of the socket.

“What? No! I wanna get a tattoo here!”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why not? I heard this guy’s the best. Plus…he’s like hella hot!”

“No, he’s not,” you argued.

“Are you fucking blind?” scoffed Shae. Turning the page in the book, she stopped and pointed at a baby lion. “That’s it!”

“I just…” you stammered, “I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore. I changed my mind.”

“Did you find something you like?” Harry asked from the doorway.

“No-”

“Uh huh!” exclaimed Shae. “This baby lion is so cute. It’s so me. I want him right here on my hip.” She jutted out her hip, slapping her hand where she wanted the tattoo to go.

Harry chuckled again, making your insides churn. You wanted to vomit.

“Alright,” he said, handing her a clipboard. “If you’ll just fill this out for me, I’ll go prepare your stencil.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You’d already promised your friend, and she looked so excited. You knew there were dozens of other tattoo shops you could go to, but Shae had picked this one. Why did it have to be this guy’s shop? Of all the fucking…

Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly in a nearby chair as Shae filled out her paperwork. Signing her name, she turned to you with a smile.

“Isn’t it cute? I’m so excited!”

With a gulp, you were about to respond when Harry returned.

“Let’s go back here,” he gestured once he’d taken the clipboard from Shae.

“Wait, my friend’s getting one too,” she looked at you. “Aren’t you?”

“No.” Although the sound came from your mouth, you could have sworn Harry’s lips moved too.

“Um…” you cleared your throat. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Shae asked, confused.

Although you didn’t want to, you gazed at Harry. His frown was so apparent, it almost looked like his eyebrows were sewn together. Finally, he relaxed his expression, pretending for Shae’s benefit.

“Don’t reckon I have enough time, love. It’s only me here tonight.”

You had to hand it to him. That was a good answer.

“Oh,” Shae pouted. “But I wanted to get tats together.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her. “I need to save my money. And I doubt there’s anything here I’d want anyway.”

You had to hand it to yourself. That was a nice dig.

It wasn’t lost on Harry, either. He scowled at you before turning for the tattoo chair, Shae following behind.

“This your first tattoo?” you heard Harry ask as you remained in the doorway.

“Yes. So please be gentle,” your friend replied, obviously flirting.

You rolled your eyes as Harry chuckled. In any other situation, with any other man, not only would you have encouraged the flirting, you might have even joined in. Both John and Shae were right in saying he was good looking…or hella hot as it were. Even you had to admit that. But you hated to. And you also hated how his laugh rang through the shop, like an invisible tattoo of its own, lacing with the sound of the Foo Fighters song that played.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the door frame, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. You thought of faking an illness. You did feel like throwing up. But Shae wasn’t having it.

“Come sit over here, Y/N!”

“I’m fine here.”

“Noooo. Come over here in case I need to hold your hand. What if I pass out or something?”

“Do you pass out easily?” Harry asked as he pulled on his gloves.

“No,” Shae replied. “I’m actually not scared of needles. But you never know.”

You caught the grin on Harry’s face as he turned in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Y/N!” Shae whined. “Please!”

Rolling your eyes, you surrendered, walking slowly toward Harry’s tattoo station. You noted everything he had set out on the tray beside him. At least he seemed to know what he was doing. But you weren’t about to admit that. Grabbing a nearby chair, you took a seat on Shae’s other side, opposite from Harry.

“So, you want it on your left hip?” Harry confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Alright. So I’m gonna need you to pull down your pants just a bit, past your hip, and turn on your right side facing…um…your friend.”

“Yes, sir,” Shae smiled, happily willing to oblige.

You watched as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down as sensually as she could on the leather chair. You caught a glimmer in Harry’s eyes when he noticed she was wearing a thong.

“Seriously?” you scoffed.

“What?” he frowned, looking up at you.

“Do you have to ogle at her for fuck’s sake? She’s getting a tattoo, not stripping for you.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Believe me, joking is the last thing I’d be doing with you.”

Shae stared at you as she laid on her side. “Y/N, it’s okay! He can ogle at me all he wants!”

“Shae,” you narrowed your eyes.

“I think your friend can speak for herself,” remarked Harry.

Making a face, you sat back, crossing your arms and legs. His expression stoic, Harry pushed his chair closer to Shae, lightly swiping her skin with rubbing alcohol. Then he took a disposable razor to gently shave her hip.

“I promise I just shaved this morning,” giggled Shae.

“I’m sure you did,” Harry smirked. “It’s just procedure. We have to thoroughly prep the area before adding ink.”

Taking the stencil, he placed it on Shae’s hip, directly under her panty line.

“Is this where you want it?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Good.” Harry ran his fingers slowly and smoothly across the thermal paper, and you just had to say something.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Blowing air between his lips, Harry glared up at you.

“Would you stop? I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me. Looks like you’re trying to feel her up.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?” cried Shae. “Do you have a problem with this guy?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Shae sat up, looking at you quizzically. “Do you know him?” Then lowering her voice, she whispered, “Did y’all fuck?”

Hearing the question, Harry snorted.

“Yeah, you wish,” you scoffed, giving him the evil eye.

“In your dreams, babe.”

“That’s it, I’m outta here,” you sprinted out of your chair, heading for the door.

“Y/N!” Shae shouted. “What is going on?”

“I’m sorry, Shae, I tried to keep my cool. But I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” muttered Harry.

“Ugh!” you cringed. “C’mon, Shae, pull your pants up. We’ll find someone more competent to do your tattoo.”

“I believe I’m more than competent,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m so lost here,” Shae whimpered, still in her chair. “How do you know each other?”

When you reached the doorway, you turned to face her, your arms still crossed.

“He’s the asshole who got me fired.”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

Adjusting herself in her chair, she faced Harry, waiting for him to retort. But he remained expressionless, his mouth in a straight line. Giving up on getting any response from him, you sighed and gestured for Shae again. When she slid off the chair, buttoning her pants, Harry finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” you glared at him.

“I…I didn’t mean to get you fired.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I mean it. I was…a complete prick to you…just like you said. And I’m sorry.”

“Pffftt,” you sounded. “It's a little late for that. I lost my job because of you!”

“I know, and I felt bad about it.”

“No, you didn’t!” you spat. “You were ecstatic that you’d gotten your way! You’re an asshole!”

“You’re right,” Harry nodded. “I deserve that. But I hope you know that wasn’t me.”

“Do you have an evil twin?”

“No. I was trying to impress my friends.”

“By being a jerk?” piped Shae.

“Yeah. I know it’s not a good look,” Harry shook his head. He rose from his chair, stepping closer to you. “I was seeing this chick, Nicolette…and she was…used to a certain lifestyle. It felt good to be part of her world for a while.”

“Doesn’t sound like friends to me,” you remarked.

“No. They just wanted to go to Zelda’s and get drunk. I swear, it’s not my scene.”

“You don’t say.”

“Look…” Harry sighed. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I know you won’t give it to me. I have no real justification for the way I acted. I truly was a prick that night. But I regretted it later. I knew it was wrong of me, and I wanted to apologize but I didn’t even know your name, let alone where to find you. I broke it off with Nicolette, too.”

“Oh, jeez, that makes me feel soooo much better,” you said sarcastically.

Throwing his hands up, Harry turned around and began to gather things from the tray.

“You really have some nerve, you know that?” you added.

Harry spun around, “For what? For apologizing?”

“For everything! For acting like a big shot, especially when you obviously didn’t belong there. For yelling at me in front of the entire bar, including my boss, and for getting me fired. And for being rude to me as soon as I walked in here.”

“Hey, you were rude to me first!”

“I was not!”

“Hey, guys?” Shae interjected. “Maybe we should just drop it. You were right, Y/N. We shouldn’t have come here.”

“I swear, Shae, if I had known he worked here, we wouldn’t have. Let’s go.”

As soon as you pushed the door open, you heard Harry huffing. “Your loss, not mine.”

“Fuck you, dude!” you exclaimed. “And get a life. A real one, not someone else’s.”

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

[theambitiouswoman]

How To Spot Opportunities

Opportunities are all around us, waiting to be recognized and seized. In conversation, in something you see, even in your own thoughts. Learning how to spot opportunities can lead you to growth and success. People often tend to overlook them, believing that they only come to certain people. The truth is that opportunities are available to everyone. We just need to change our perspective and learn how to identify them.

The Mindset:

Openness to Possibilities: Adopt a mindset that looks for possibilities in any situation. Instead of focusing solely on obstacles, view every challenge as an opportunity to innovate and grow. This shift in perspective opens the door to potential breakthroughs.

Adaptability: Being flexible and adaptable is key to spotting opportunities. Embrace change and be willing to venture outside your comfort zone. Adaptability helps you see potential where others might only see disruptions.

Positive Attitude: A positive attitude can work wonders in identifying opportunities. When you maintain optimism, you're more likely to recognize the silver lining in challenging circumstances, leading to the discovery of new pathways.

Always Learning: Embrace a curious mindset. Continuing to learn exposes you to new ideas and helps you stay ahead in a rapidly changing world, enabling you to recognize emerging opportunities before others do.

Examples of Spotting Opportunities:

The Airbnb Story: In 2008, two struggling entrepreneurs, Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia, saw a unique opportunity in the midst of a sold-out conference in their city. With hotels fully booked, they decided to rent out air mattresses in their living room, turning their apartment into an "air bed and breakfast." This marked the inception of Airbnb, which has since become a multi-billion dollar global enterprise, disrupting the hospitality industry.

From Hobby to Empire: Many successful businesses have started as hobbies. For example, Dov Charney, the founder of American Apparel, began making simple t-shirts for himself. When people showed interest in his designs, he realized the opportunity to create a clothing brand that offered stylish basics, catapulting his hobby into a thriving fashion empire.

Turning Failure into Success: Walt Disney's first animation studio went bankrupt. While many would have given up, Disney saw an opportunity to learn from his mistakes and create a new, revolutionary entertainment venture. The result? The birth of Mickey Mouse and the eventual establishment of the global Disney empire.

Networking: Opportunities often lie within our social circles. A chance encounter at a networking event led to the founding of YouTube when Steve Chen, Chad Hurley, and Jawed Karim connected with early PayPal employees who provided funding for their video-sharing platform.

You can train yourself to spot opportunities in the most unexpected places. The examples shared above show that success often comes from recognizing potential in everyday situations.

How to train your mind to spot opportunities:

1. Actively Listen: Listen to what the other person is saying. Avoid interrupting or preoccupying your mind with what you will say next. Paying full attention allows you to pick up on cues, insights, and potential areas of mutual interest.

2. Identify Pain Points: While you are listening, look for challenges or frustrations the other person may mention.These pain points could represent opportunities for you to provide a solution or offer assistance.

3. Explore people's Interests: Discover the other person's passions and interests. You might find common ground, or their interests might spark ideas for potential collaborations or projects.

4. Ask Questions: Ask open-ended questions that encourage the other person to share more about themselves and their goals. Ask them about their aspirations and how they plan to achieve them. Seeing how people arrive from one point to another will better help you exercise your minds and use problem solving strategies as a way of looking at things moving forward.

5. Be Curious: Approach conversations with a curious and open mindset. Be receptive to new ideas and different perspectives.

6. Networking: Use conversations as an opportunity to network and build relationships. Meaningful connections often lead to new opportunities down the road, whether it's a job opportunity, collabs, or a chance to participate in new projects.

7. Body Language: Pay attention to non-verbal cues and body language. Sometimes, opportunities can be inferred from the other person's gestures, expressions, or tone of voice.

8. Problem-Solving and Offering Help: If the conversation veers towards a problem the other person is facing, think about how you might be able to help.

9. Be Proactive: Don't be afraid to share your own aspirations and ideas during the conversation. Sometimes, expressing your interests and goals can lead you to opportunities when the other person sees potential in working with you in some capacity.

10. Following-Up and Staying Connected: After a productive conversation, make an effort to follow up and stay connected. This can potentially lead to more opportunities as you continue to build a better relationship with the other person.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Don't Waste A Second

Summary: Billy the Kid x Fe!Reader -> You and Billy have been close for a while now, but what happens when your life is put in danger and he has to bargain for your life?

Disclaimer: MDNI: Criminal Minds level (16+ subjects mentioned although not all are carried out, just (kind of) talked about. ANGST, self-deprecation though Billy won't stand for it. Talks of death, blood, gore and gunfire. Fluff splattered around. Not proof read.

First came the sound of gun fire. 

Your heart leaped from your chest and you could feel every morsel of your being being pumped with adrenaline by the minute. 

The head of the rival gang in town sat beside you until he heard the second gun shot before he himself stood and brought you with him. 

“You’re my leverage for my life, woman. Say a word and I will kill you myself.”

It wasn't long until the owner of the gunshots appeared by the door. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Kid himself?”

“Let her go.”

He pulled you higher to his head. Even with a shot like Billy’s, this could pose a danger if he wasn’t careful. 

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Let her go.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to kidnap women?” You spoke before you even thought. 

“I thought I told you to shut up!”

“Hey!” Billy had the man’s attention once more. “You don’t talk to her. You talk to me. I’m the one you have a problem with.”

“Which makes it all the more fun having her here, right by my side.”

Billy raised his gun a little higher.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One wrong move and the bullet goes straight through her skull.”

That made Billy falter a little.

“Now, I know better than anyone that you have a little soft spot for her, so how about we cut a deal?”

“It’s not worth it, Billy.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m not worth it, Billy. Don’t do it. No matter what he says.”

“I thought I told you to shut it!”

The man’s hands dragged roughly around your neck, forcing you to look at the rotting ceiling. 

“Please, Billy. Don’t do it.”

“How much is she worth to you, Billy? Huh? Lookin at her, I’d only give a couple bucks but I have a feeling she means more to you than just a few crummy dollars. What do you say, Kid?”

Whilst the man was talking, you were able to move your hands just enough to remove the silver knife from his pocket. The one he had been spinning in his hands just moments before Billy’s gunshot rang through the house. 

“You got it?”

The man thought he was talking to him, but then you replied.

“Yep.”

In less than 3 seconds, the man felt a sharp stab go into his thigh causing his grip to loosen allowing you a swift escape. However, not before you took the opportunity to drag the blade down his leg, opening the wound further allowing Billy a clear shot of the man’s head if he wanted to take it.

And he did.

Moments later, the body dropped in front of you and you scrambled back on all fours until you got to your knees and found Billy level with you in height. 

He pushed your dirty hair from your face, and checked you over for any visible wounds. There was none yet, that he could see.

“Let’s go home.”

Hours later, you found yourself washed and dressed whilst Billy tended to some of your larger wounds. 

When you had been getting washed, you hadn’t noticed Billy sneak a glance through the gap in the clothing divider. He saw the blood. He saw the brides. He saw the scars. 

Then he heard your voice, trying to be quiet in its pain as you lowered yourself into the tub and tried to clean yourself off. 

He had asked if you needed any help, but you were stubborn. He knew your answer before you even gave it. 

But he gave you no choice afterwards. He would tend to your woods and that was final. 

So, sitting beside him on the worn sofa whilst the fire crackled to keep you both warm. Billy pressed some ointment to the scars that littered the side of your body.

He had called for the town doctor to come and see you. Of course, he came right away and saw to you- at least, what you would show him. He gave you a small prescription for the pain and some cream that would help keep the wounds clean until they finally healed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Did they…did they do anything to you?”

“Billy. You are applying ointment to my scars and my body is covered in bruises. You’re seriously-“

“Did they touch you?”

You sighed, and moved a little to lift your shirt back up. “No. Not in that way. Though I doubt it would have been long before they did.”

A silence fell over you both once more, Billy breaking it a few minutes later.

“What did you mean before?”

“Before what?”

Billy sighed and replaced the lid on the tin of ointment. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned forwards and pressed his hands together. You lowered your shirt and looked at him.

“Before, when he had you…he tried to make a bargain for your life. You said it wasn’t worth it. That you weren’t worth it. Why did you say that?”

“Because it’s true. Because I’m not.”

“But you are.”

Billy took your hand in his as he spoke to you. 

“Billy,” you chuckled a little. “ I teach five days a week at the local school. I serve people drinks on the weekends. People come and go and I am still always asked about who I am. I am…me. I’m nobody important.”

“You’re important to me.”

You paused when Billy looked you in the eyes. His hands still held yours. 

“You are everything to me, you hear? Everything. I haven’t been in the same spot since I was a kid. The reason and the only reason behind that is you. You are the reason I stayed. You are the reason I wake up in the morning and make sure everyone is safe in this town because even if just one of them isn’t, then that puts you in danger. I never wanted to see your life be put in danger because of me. You are everything to me, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Billy,”

“I mean it, Y/N. You have my whole life. You are my whole life.”

In that moment, a whole other silence took over and you found Billy moving  closer to you and found yourself doing the same to him. 

He paused for a moment, your noses brushing. He questioned you with his eyes. He needed to know if he was about to be kissed back or punched. 

Instead, he saw you nod slightly and he moved in, pressing a kiss to your lips before his hand came to the side of your face to draw you in closer.

Of course, you had been fond of Billy since the moment you met him. But you didn’t realise you loved him until just a few moments before you found yourself being towed away by a stranger, who had first told you he was one of the children’s uncles - a child who you taught at school and helped out with after class when he couldn’t just quite find the confidence to read out in class, causing his stutter to worsen. 

Billy knew the moment he stepped foot on the school grounds something was wrong. Like it was in the air, or something. 

He held a freshly picked bunch of wild flowers he’d found riding through the hills on his way to meet you. He did this every time, and everytime the pick would be different. He knew you didn’t like gifts - he had heard as much from the town’s local gossip woman when he stopped by her store to pick up some fresh dressings. 

At the time, you had just walked past the store. All Billy had to do was turn around to see when the woman was staring at and found you, with your head buried against a pile of papers and a pencil in your hand, scribbling away as you managed to avoid almost everything that stood in your way. 

“I heard she was engaged once to some fella outside of New York.”

“You hear right.” the woman told the people in the store. “Apparently he broke her heart and she came out here to teach our kids.”

“What did she do back in New York?”

“Governess from what I heard. But the kids grew up, that was just before her engagement.”

Billy would come to learn that the ‘fella’ you were engaged to did break your heart, but not due to his own failings. He had been on a city inspection job when, during his inspection of one of the machines, a water pipe that ran directly under the building exploded. 

Even if the shrapnel hadn't cut through his skin and caused him to bleed out, the weight of the machine that he fell into probably would have crushed him. He died later on in the hospital, but not before dictating very slowly to one of the nurses what he wished he could say to you first. 

You had been given the letter by the nurse shortly after she found you in the waiting room after you had seen his body. 

“Did she ever find anybody else?”

“A couple tried. Hell, some rich railway fella practically tossed diamonds at her feet, but she didn’t want them. She smiled, kissed them on the cheek and made her way back through town. All she does is work and sleep.”

Over some more comments made through the gossip fueled conversation, Billy came to learn that you didn’t like grand gifts or gestures. But rather, subtlety. Subtlety and truth. 

On the weekends when you served multiple drinks, he got to know you and before both of you knew it, he was showing up outside of school when you finished teaching and one day, whilst on a ride back into town, he brought with him a bunch of flowers, just because. 

A few hours later when he rode past your house, he found them in a vase in your kitchen window. 

So, after months of being friends with one another, and having a yearning for more, it came to your realisation that, even just the thought of Billy not turning up or not seeing him every day, knocked you sick. 

There wasn’t a world where you didn’t want to be with him. 

But, on your way out of the school gates, you were met with an ‘Uncle’. 

Pulling back from the kiss, you kept your head against Billy’s. “Wait.”

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have-”

“No, Billy. It’s not that. I just…”

You pulled back but kept your eyes fixed on Billy, only tearing them away for a moment as you looked to his hand that you took in yours. 

“I need to know that you’re being truthful with me and not just saying all of this because of what happened today. Because, if it’s true, then there are more than just your feelings in this. I just…I don’t want to be hurt, Billy.”

“Darlin’, look at me?”

You looked up and Billy cupped one of your cheeks in his hand. “Everything I have just told you…it’s all true. Even if today hadn't happened, I would have told you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was being a coward. I love you.”

The next moment felt like an eternity for Billy, until finally, he found the light at the end of the tunnel. 

“I love you, too, Billy.”

He didn’t have to think about what to do next. Pulling you in, he kissed you like he had waited a thousand years just to see you one last time. 

And neither of you were going to waste a second. 

[tallymonster]

Careless Whisper ❤️ AO3 link ❤️‍🔥

Summary: Zesstra is a stripper and she just got off work. She turns on her computer and watches a very steamy streamer.

THIS IS PURE SMUT TRASH, IT IS NOT SERIOUS. If you come to my asks being an asshole, your ass will get BLOCKED.

A/N: there's a lot of emojis and out of character speak going on here. Do not take anything written here seriously, this was done for fun. Consider this a love letter to my friends on the Astarion Brainrot discord and to the ones who let me use their Tavs in this wild idea I had one day when I got too stoned and started to write on Google docs. Might be a one off, might be a thing, who knows?? Either way, enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day 😘💕

@cursedhaglette who let me use Halia (goldengalhal)

@tragedybunny who let me use Sera (SeraQueen)

@micropoe10 who let me use Colette (EcoGirl)

@just-a-refrigerator who let me use Elora (slutty_songstress)

And @bhaalbaaby who let me use Penelope

Thanks guys, I love love love you all 💕

Zesstra flops onto her bed with her laptop and a giant glass of wine in her hand. Another shitty day at work, but what's new? Being a dancer at the Fae Cabaret wasn't the ideal thing, but fuck, if the money wasn't worth getting her ass slapped for 10$ extra dollars in her tip pile.

Today though, was the last straw. The creepy rich dude who comes by every once in a while came by tonight, and did his same bullshit. She could practically recite his opening line “Hey gorgeous, why the sour face?” followed by a stupid smarmy laugh.

Zesstra smiled, put on the fake giggle, and slapped his shoulder. Next, he buys her the cheapest mixed drink, and of course, he gets himself an expensive glass of whiskey he never finishes.

She tries her hardest not to roll her eyes after he makes some degrading comment about her coworker, grimacing while he rants about some meeting with important people she doesn't give two fucks about.

Whatever, that's all in the past now. Tonight was about Zesstra, of course. It's her blessed time off and she was going to spend it the only way she could truly enjoy it.

Zesstra turned on her computer and went through her socials. The public one for family and close friends, some messages from the girls at work, nothing too exciting.

Then she flips to the slutty socials, the ones where she can post pictures from work. She answers some messages on her pay per post site, adds more lewd photos from her various shopping sprees, and scrolls for a few minutes. Messages pour in offering her the world for a few seconds of her attention, but there's really only one place she wishes to be.

Zesstra thinks back on the one bright spot in her nights. A regular she only knows as “The Lawyer”. He's a good looking elf, perfect silver hair, gorgeous face, dazzling red eyes that lock onto her as she walks the floor of the club.

He usually doesn't say much, but when he does Zesstra swears she’s heard that silky voice somewhere before. She put that thought to the back of her mind. Tonight was about seeking her own pleasure.

Clicking through the streaming sites she visits on nights when the images of him won't leave, she finds that her favorite creator, an asmr streamer called ProfaneDelight, just began his stream. Zesstra clicks on his name and pops her headphones on. She drinks more of the wine, and closes her eyes as his voice begins to fill her ears.

“Good evening, darlings.” She watches as he enters the frame of the video, his tight red shirt and black pants hug his body. The camera is at the most unfortunate angle, since it won't allow her to see his whole face which she assumes matches the delicious sound of his voice.

“Have you been waiting all day for me?” He huffs softly, a small laugh follows, “What a good audience you are…” His breathy tone sends shivers down her spine.

Zesstra kept her eyes on the screen as his hands come up to the desk he stands behind. She notices the black leather gloves with red piping along the edges that cover his hands.

“You know I can't stand to be away from you.”, his voice drips, seductively. “I bet you think of me while you do the most boring things.”

Zesstra can't help keeping her eyes locked on his hands, she tries not to, but her mind starts to imagine The Lawyer’s hands there instead.

“Do you get excited when you see time passing by as I get closer to coming back to you?”

His right hand comes up to the top of his shirt, slowly undoing a couple of buttons. A breathy sigh followed his hand as it lowered itself down his torso. Zesstra bites her lip in anticipation, taking another slow sip from her wine.

Her eyes follow his hand as it comes to a stop at the waistline of his pants. The heat rises to her cheeks when she sees the outline of his cock as the gloved hand cups it.

A strained groan escapes his lips, she can already feel the effects of his seduction working on her body. Her cheeks are heating up just by watching these slow teases.

Zesstra swallows more wine, watching as he opens his shirt more. The pale skin of his core seemed to shine in what appears to be candlelight. The soft yellows of the light bathe his body, the shadows cast highlight the muscles that are slowly exposed.

“Ah ah aaahh” he teases, “if you want more…you know what to do, darlings.”

Zesstra smirks mischievously, the money she earned tonight would be put to great use right now. She types a quick message and before she could type it she hears the ping of a donation from someone called goldengalhal.

goldengalhal sent 20$ “Starting off right, love. There's more where that came from 😘”

Zesstra rolls her eyes and sends her 25$ donation, 5 more than whomever that is. Back on the screen she sees her name and message pop up.

TestyZesty sent 25$ “couldn't wait to come home, looks like I got here just in time…”

He laughs and begins to slide one of the gloves off near the microphone. The soft scratching sound of the fabric rubbing against his pale hand sent more shivers through Zesstra’s skin.

As the glove comes completely off his hand, he taps on the mic, Zesstra sighs contentedly and licks the wine off her lip. She notices his fingers, and does a double take. They look familiar? She pours the last bit of this bottle into her glass and leans back to watch more before jumping to conclusions.

“Looks like we have someone who came by at the right time…little TestyZesty…my dear, what are you so testy about? Anything I can help with?” His lips curl into a little smirk, “I hear I give wonderful stress relief…”

Zesstra shoots up on her bed, her wine swivels in the glass and almost spills due to her abrupt reaction. “No fuckin’ way.” her jaw drops and she begins to type her response. Suddenly, another donation pings, this time from a SeraQueen.

SeraQueen sent 50$ “I had a bad day at work, can I get a little love too 🥺”

“Of course, dear. Hope your day can improve now that you're here, my Queen.” he responds with all the sweet words they all love.

Zesstra scoffs, “Biiiiitttttch, please.” she giggles and sends her message. As soon as it pops up on screen, she hears his melodic voice begin to read it.

“Work, irl shit. Life sucks, then you die. You make it better though.” she sees a small smirk on his lips, Gods, she would kill to suck on those lips. “Oh, don't be so nice to me, Zesty…you make me want to be nice back..” He draws out the last bit of that sentence, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

The second hand comes up and begins the same languid dance of slipping the matching glove off. Bit by bit he takes the glove off each finger, a soft moan flows out of those pretty pink lips when he finally releases his hand from the offending accessory.

He strokes the microphone with his fingers as more soft, breathy moans leave his lips. “You're all so eager to get me exposed aren't you? All these adorable messages just for me?”

“You have no idea…” Zesstra grabs the second bottle of wine that sat on her nightstand, she unscrews the top and drinks straight from the bottle. More images of her Lawyer pop into her head, but her mind decides to think of the way he ran his hands all over her when she took him into the private rooms at the back of the club a couple of nights ago.

No matter how many times she's been told not to let people touch her, she can't help letting him do it every time they're alone. He was paying for the whole experience, of course, but sometimes she wonders what they would get away with if she were the one paying him.

She snaps out of it the moment she hears another donation ping from an EcoGirl.

EcoGirl sent 150$ “do you like to garden? Because I have a hedge that needs tending 😏”

“Oh no, little love. I can't mess up these immaculate hands…then how would I be able to make these streams?” He giggles a bit and stands to remove his belt. It's like a little game of back and forth comments and donations from different people.

Among the many she notices a comment from a slutty_songstress “how do I get you to sing for me? bet you make wonderful sounds 👀”. He apparently noticed that one as well, he reads it out and huffs into the microphone.

“I don't usually do private performances…most of the time I’m the one getting the dance done for me…” A skewed smirk grows on his face, as if he's trying to play coy.

Zesstra’s mind begins to fire off with unhinged horny thoughts. She would do anything to give this man a dance he would never forget. People do love her aloof drow attitude, who’s to say he wouldn't?

Before she could stop herself, she drops another donation.

TestyZesty sent 100$ “what kind of dancing? Are you going to the ballet or stopping by the Cabaret? maybe I'll see you there? 😘”

Another cheeky comment, sure to get his attention. He laughs again, and bites his lip. “Well, I do enjoy both, but I do hold a special place in my heart for the girls at the Fae…have a few in mind actually.”

Within seconds the chat is flooded with questions on who the girls could be. Zesstra sees a few of her coworker’s names flash up on the screen, most notably, Penelope, the pink tiefling with a huge fan base, and Nym the other drow girl who worked part time at the strip club.

Some even mentioned Nym’s brother Sorm, but he had given up the cabaret after finding himself a job as a model after one of his regulars hit it big during Faerun Fashion Week.

Penelope and Nym are Zesstra’s friends and friendly competition. Most nights where the three of them work, they'll place bets on which one of them will get hit on first (Penelope), which one will get a four figure tip (Nym), and who can get the client the most drunk within 30 minutes (Zesstra).

She giggles as the comments keep flying, eventually, one commenter names her!

“Have you seen Zesstra?? She's kind of a bitch but total dommy mommy energy 🥵”

Zesstra cackles like a banshee, “That's right, babes, fear me!” She takes a long drink from the bottle, amused that someone out there thought of her.

Back on stream, the delightful treat in front of her sucks his lip and releases it with a pop, “Darlings, I will never kiss and tell, but I do know one of my little friends is here right now.”

Zesstra sputters into her wine glass, she cannot believe what she just heard! Is he trying to imply that he's a possible client of the Fae??? There's no way, he's probably talking about the ballet that her cousin Octavia is a part of. But then again, how many of those girls sit in their room after a performance and flick their bean to this shit?

She chuckles the thought out of her head, and focuses her attention on the screen. She starts to type a message when a donation pops up.

goldengalhal sent 200$ “I do ballet, maybe you’ve seen one of our performances? I'm the prima ballerina at the Gate’s Performance Hall.”

“Good for you, goldengal. I do appreciate the arts, and I do love dressing up for the occasion, but….there's just something about the girls at the Fae that gets me going…”

Zesstra’s brain short-circuits. “OH MY FUCKING GODS.” Could he be one of her regulars????

Another donation. EcoGirl sent 50$ “CAN WE GET BACK TO THE MATTERS AT HAND?? our boyfriend is still wearing a shirt. 👀”

Zesstra laughs and sends her donation, TestyZesty sent 69$ “i agree with EcoGirl, can we get back to these pressing matters? In particular, the rest of those buttons 😏” An amused chuckle comes out of his lips, he stands and Zesstra could see him lean in closer to the microphone.

His hand slides down his chest, following along the line of buttons at the front of his shirt. The almost hushed sounds flowed from his lips. A strained groan here and a breathy moan there. Zesstra’s skin prickles under his teases.

His hands linger on the buttons that hold his shirt closed, one by one he begins to slide his fingers over the closures, his pale skin becoming more visible by the second. More soft whines and moans fill Zesstra’s ears, the vibrations pooling down in her core.

He leans over and speaks directly into the camera “I hope you all are pleased with yourselves, I don't usually let you all have this much power over me, but I figured with it being Lover’s Night, I would give my little pets a treat.”

He blows a kiss to the camera and begins running his hand down his neck, slowly trailing his hand down his now exposed chest. A low groan, almost a growly noise flutters out of his throat as he pulls the rest of his shirt open. The red silky looking fabric hung off his shoulders as his hand lingered on his waistband.

“Shall I keep going, lovelies? What do you think?”

The messages fly on the left hand side of Zesstra’s laptop screen. One after the other they compete for his attention until another high donation drops.

Slutty_songstress sent 200$ “off with the shirt, please (respectfully)”

“Well, my songstress, since you asked so politely…” The last word is drawn out, he lets his shirt drop from his shoulders, his hand throws it off and palms his cock again. He sucks his lip into his mouth, Zesstra could see what looked like a fang pop out the right side.

More breathy moans fill her ears as she begins to remember earlier in her night, when her bright spot waltzed into the club. She watched as the Lawyer walked up to the bar, he leaned on the counter and began to text furiously. Zesstra didn't usually feel so flustered because of a client, but the way he looked at her was not usual of the other patrons.

When she walked up to him he looked straight at her eyes and smiled. “Hello, beautiful.” She smiles back and leans over the bar, letting her shoulders drop, pressing her upper arms together to puff out her chest. The little game of playing it cool failed under his gaze.

They talk for a while before she hears her name being called, at the same time he checks his watch and notices the time. “I’m late to a very important meeting. Looks like we have to part ways, gorgeous. Maybe next time, we can have some time together? Perhaps away from these prying eyes?”

Zesstra could never properly hear him, no thanks to the loud ass music Alfira played behind the DJ booth, but she was pretty good at reading lips by now.

He slips her a note and winks as she bends down seductively to shove the little scrap of paper inside her platform boot. The moment ruined by Nym, who comes to pull her up on stage. Soon after she finishes her set, she pulls the little note out and reads it.

Zesstra’s jaw drops and sees that it's a business card for one of the most elite law firms in Faerun. It was a plain white card with his name, Astarion, and number written on it. On the back there was a note that read “I helped you once before, don't hesitate to ask again.”

She had given him her landlord’s number when they were trying to pull some shady shit and not fix her leaky shower. One call from “her lawyer” and it was done.

Seems like this was her chance, and given the amount of alcohol she's drunk so far, Zesstra decides to text the number.

“Hey, Astarion. It's Zesstra. Pretty bold of you to give me a business card.” She hits send and throws her phone on the nightstand. She'll check it later, he was probably busy at that meeting he mentioned.

Back in her room, she snaps back to reality yet again when she hears the sound of hundreds of messages scrolling past. Apparently in the time that she was in her daydream, her streamer had already undone his pants! She scoffs and types out a message.

TestyZesty sent 123$ “Holy shit, I looked away for five seconds and you sluts got his pants open??”

Zesstra hears the sultry voice reading her message out loud with a little wince at the end, “I guess if you were paying attention, you wouldn't be surprised.”

Her throat feels dry, she clenches and swallows. “You're all so sweet, letting me ramble like this…I wish I could see your face when you let me do whatever I want to you.”

Zesstra was already extremely turned on from seeing her crush earlier and the way she could feel his eyes studying her reactions.

“Touch yourself. I know you want to.”

As if she was being compelled to, her hand begins to trail down her center, slipping into her tiny shorts. She feels her wetness coating her fingers, her body opening up under his commands.

“Be good for me, I could be really good for you…” he slips his pants down, and she hears them hit the ground. His hand moves up to his waist, pulling at the fabric of his skin tight boxers, his cock very clearly hardened by this point.

“Oh fuck…” she slips her shorts completely off, spreading her legs on both sides of the laptop sitting on her bed. Her left hand goes back to work herself open while the right is tugging her bra up to play with her nipple.

“Give me what I want and I'll give you what you want, darlings.”

Another flood of donations and messages ring out, Zesstra wishes they would all just shut up and enjoy the show, but it's all part of the game.

EcoGirl sent 100$ “pleeease, I need to see this man cuuuuummmmmmm 🥵”

“As you wish, dear. Any particular way? Or is it the dealer's choice?” his voice drops as a sharp exhale escapes with a pout, his muscles tense and release as he runs his hand over his cock.

“Tell me how you want me to.” a sigh, and a moan, “I really wanna come for you all, you've been so good to me tonight..”

Two donations come in at the same time, each opposes the other.

SeraQueen sent 350$ “love the teasing, keep going, we love anything you give us”

goldengalhal sent 420$ “fuck your hand. Let us see your cock leak.”

“Ooh, the war begins…So direct, goldengal, and sooo generous…thank you, love. I do like what SeraQueen adds though, maybe I can give both of my generous beauties a compromise?’

He runs his left hand down the front of his boxers more, his breath hitches and stutters. His fingers teasing the length of his cock. He pulls the camera and the microphone down a bit and flops into the chair behind him.

TestyZesty sent 422$ “you look comfy, just how I imagined when I think of riding you when I touch myself.”

Zesstra had to take her hand off her tit to type that, but she could tell it had an effect on him. As a stripper, she could pretty much tell when any of the patrons got too excited by the dance. This guy clearly loved the attention he got doing these streams in more ways than one.

He begins to pull his boxers down, teasing them all with how slowly he was inching the fabric off. As soon as his cock is freed, it bounces back, bobbing with a twitch. “Is this what you think about, Zesty?”

TestyZesty sent 100$ “ fuck yes. I want to milk you, you drive me crazy.”

A pleased hum that turns into a moan follows as he runs his hands up his thighs, digging his nails into his skin. Zesstra can see the red scratch marks grow bright against his pale skin. Gods, she would love to bite down and see how pretty he would look bruised with little love bites all over.

He wraps one hand around his cock, the other continues to work his way up his toned chest, tweaking a nipple as he begins to lazily stroke his cock.

TestyZesty sent 100$ “get yourself nice and hard, I wanna have a good image of you underneath me.”

“Let me give you a better image then, darling Zesty…”

Zesstra is rewarded with a louder moan, he strokes himself a little more, grabbing a bottle off camera with his other hand. He flips the top and drizzles what looks like lube all over his cock.

EcoGirl sent 50$ “yesyesyesyes get it nice and slick, daddy. I would suck you all day if you let me.”

SeraQueen sent 240$ “you have the prettiest cock, so thick too”

“Oh EcoGirl, you like it when daddy fucks his hand? Would you like it to be your cunt instead? Maybe you and Sera can share?”

Zesstra clenches around nothing, she can't take it anymore and reaches down to fully indulge in herself. She begins to circle her clit, stroking slowly, trying to imitate the movements of his hand on screen.

His hand now coated in a combination of lube and precum slides up and down his hardened length, the muscles on his thighs flex and he lets out more breathy moans. “Let's see who can get me to come all over their beautiful tits, I do love it when they're covered with my come, bouncing in my face.”

Zesstra strokes down her pussy, her slick entrance is so desperate to be filled by him, to be the only one bringing him pleasure. She lets herself wander to the place in her mind where Astarion is the one making her mewl underneath him.

goldengalhal sent 300$ “faster, I love it when you can tell how desperate you are to come.”

He huffs and does as he's told, his hands find their places on his cock and on his balls, both working in tandem to ruin him for the audience. With one hand he strokes himself more, building up speed. His other cups his balls as his fingers spread, moving down towards his frenulum. He arches his back, thrusting into his hand more desperately.

Zesstra wants him to cry out for her like this, she wants to be the one to make him feel as good as he does for her, all she can bare to think of is his cock sliding inside her, splitting her open and taking what he wanted.

Waves of pleasure crash into Zesstra as she watches him stroking his cock faster, she can see how everyone's words affect him. The way his chest stutters as he's getting closer to his own high. His hips thrust up into his soaked hand, seeking release, his breaths growing more ragged and strained.

Zesstra's fingering herself in time with his thrusts, she lets the images of Astarion flood back into her head, his hands all over her as she grinds herself onto him during her dances. She rubs the heel of her palm into her clit faster as she feels herself getting closer, the moans and breaths in her ears pushing her closer to the edge.

“That's right, come for me…let me fill you with my come, get you nice and full for me. Have my seed drip down your legs as you go about your day…” a stutter followed by a strained groan “fuck yourself faster, I want to feel you come for me.”

Zesstra feels herself winding up more, the tension ready to snap at any moment, when she hears his moans grow louder and more primal. He's desperate to come and she would do anything to get that to happen. She keeps her eyes locked into his hands.

With her free hand she sends the last donation she thinks she can type before the lust fully takes her.

TestyZesty sent 69$ “come for me, gorgeous. Let me see you come and coat your beautiful skin.”

“Yes darling… gods, I'm so close… are you gonna come too, Zesty? Come with me, sweet girl.”

As if on command, Zesstra can feel herself crossing over the precipice, her body writhes and clenches as her cunt squeezes down on her fingers. She rides her orgasm out as she hears him panting and whining.

“Yes yes fuck you're so tight and wet, I can't take it anymore, fuuuuck…” he twists his hand on the rise of his hand, giving the head a bit of a squeeze. He thrusts into his hand with little shallow movements, his fingers from his other hand grip on his balls as he fucks his hand.

His body is clenching, tensing up more and more as he pushes himself over the edge, his cock twitches as he comes. The thick liquid coats his hand as it drips down. His body shudders as he keeps fucking his hand through his climax.

His moans stutter and his hips tremble. His waist and stomach are coated with his come, an obscene display for such a composed subject.

“Looks like I gotta clean up here, darlings.” he pants with a small laugh, his breath shallow and chest heaving. “For my little messenger, I hope you liked it. Expect a response from me soon, pet. Good night, loves.”

The stream ends, Zesstra thinks that little sign off was strange, but everyone has their thing. As she's coming down from one of the best orgasms she's had, she hears her phone ring and notices that Astarion has actually texted back! His meeting must've just ended, perfect timing.

When she opens the message, she nearly dropped her phone from the whiplash from throwing her head back. As plain as her own red eyes could see, was a short text. “You were pretty bold tonight, yourself, testyzesty…” Zesstra gasps, her eyes are as wide as dinner plates. “OH MY FUCKING GODS?!?!”

She immediately feels her hands trembling wildly. All she could think about was him, and it turns out that it was. Zesstra’s brain immediately blanks out when her phone rings again. “Did you mean what you said? Do you really want me like that?”

She quickly types a response and sent it back “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Come now, dear. Don't play coy.” his response reads, “Pretty easy to figure out it was you, not many girls mention seeing me at the Cabaret. Thought you were trying to drop a hint? Figured you recognized my voice from earlier?

Zesstra didn't even think about it, the club is so fucking loud, her mind races at the fact that now she knows that he definitely got off to her watching him. “Did you always know?”

“No.” he replies.

“So then…you meant to give me your phone number tonight?”

“Yes. Let's just say, you intrigued me. Besides, you're not the only one who has a public and private life. I was hoping to let you in on my little secret eventually, but it seems life had other plans for us.”

Zesstra cannot believe what's going on right now, her mind is racing through the hundreds of times he's come through the club. The sudden departures and strange late night meetings, it all makes sense now. There were never any meetings…well, not with other lawyers at least.

“So….what happens now? I know who you are, you know who I am…do we keep going down this path or do we split ways?”

“I think you're a rather curious little kitten, why don't we see how far down the rabbit hole we can go? I'll send you my address. Let me know what you decide on.”

Zesstra bolts out of bed, she puts on the skimpy dress that hangs on the bathroom door. She slips it on and gathers some things before running to the door. As she makes her way down the stairwell of her building, she gets his address. She bites her lip and replies “I’m on my way, see you soon.”

[cuntstroworld]

Seduction

TW- this is a smut if you do not like reading things with sexual content please click off viewer discretion is advised :D

This story includes the following

Matting press

Spitting

Stripping/Adult entertainment

Fingering

Face fucking

Public sex

This is a Shiu Kong smut

“I need that late night Lovin"

Coming back from a successful business transaction Shiu Kong and Toji Fushiguro decided to hit one of the hottest strip clubs in Shibuya, stepping into the club the men are immediately blinded by the neon lights. Both pay for their entry, strippers immediately notice the new faces and want to grab them for their archive. Toji was snatched away by a stripper and taken into the back, Shiu walked around the club before his eye made contact with a girl who caught his eye almost automatically.

Y/n connected eye contact with Shiu ignoring all the non-paying men who tried to request her for the night, walking up to the man she got a good look at him making out his facial features in the man's face. "So, are you going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to ask me for a dance?" putting her hand on her hip Y/n gave him toothy smile before walking away, swaying her hips seductively in front of Shiu.

Watching her walk away Shiu was quickly snapped out of his trance and immediately followed behind the girl. Getting to the back of the club the music faded away, hearing multiple giggles and seeing different girls coming and going but he kept his eyes on Y/n. Opening a door the lights dim, leaving one pole in the middle of the room, and a large black sofa that wrapped around the pole. Standing in the middle of the room Y/n got up on the pole, holding onto the pole with her hand she walked around it slowly.

Smirking Shiu closed the door behind him, walking up to her she touched his face softly leaning in closer to him breathing softy on his lips, holding on the pole with both hands. Y/n laughed in his face, pulling herself away from him as she began to climb up the pole. Shiu took his seat taking off his suit jacket as he watched the girl on the pole leaning against the sofa, he undid his tie slowly as he manspreaded smiling at Y/n.

"So, tell me sweetheart. What's your name, your real name..." she smiled as she did her pole work "hmm why do you wanna know my real name?" her voice was softy like butter, He shifted in the seat paying close attention to her movements. ''For future visits sweetheart" he smiled at her pulling out a stack of money, removing the rubber band of the money he sat back throwing the one's and hundred-dollar bills at the girl.

She watched as the money fell from the ceiling, hanging on to the pole with her legs she took off her top throwing it somewhere in the room. "Hm keep throwing money and I'll give you more than just my name" His face lit up with excitement from her words “is that a proposition? Or a promise” he smirked at her word feeling a tight sensation in his pants from looking at her topless. Leaning in he put his hands together, studying her body.

Y/n felt his eyes on her burning holes in her skin, she watched as the money kept coming looking like green stars in the sky "let's start with your name instead I mean you are the one with money here" hoping off the pole she sat on his lap, wrapping her arms from his neck she looks down at his hands seeing all of the silver rings he hands on his fingers. "You like rings I see.." he spoke quietly in her ear rubbing her thigh with his harsh hands. "I have a strange addiction to unknown handsome men" he smiled at her answer , looking at her lips before looking in her eyes.

"You really wanna kiss me huh?" giggling Y/n opened her legs as she kissed his lip leaving smeared lip gloss on his, slipping his tongue in her mouth. Her tongue fought for the top spot ultimately losing to his overpowering dominance, Shiu’s hands reached out to the front of her body playfully twisting her nipples as they kissed.

Whimpering in the kiss, Y/n shivered slightly from the cold rings on his fingers. Shiu breaks the kiss and whispers into her ear “I might have to take you for myself, sweetheart, ~” he gets up pulling her legs as he gets on his knees, pulling off her panties and sticks them in his pocket. Y/n looked down at him as her cunt was now popped in his face, Shiu lips his at the sight of her “I haven't even done anything sweetheart, and you're already wet for me?” taking his thumb rubbing her clit in circular motions.

With her legs on his shoulder, she whines from the friction he applies to her clit “fuck.. I'm not even supposed to be doing this.. I can get fired” he let out a deep chuckle as he kissed her inner thighs “Don't worry about that now, what they don't know won't hurt them.” giving her some relief from the thought of being fired she nodded at his word laying back on the sofa.

Softly Shiu kissed her clit sticking two of his fingers inside her cunt, she glanced at him before laying her head back down. Sucking on her clit she moans lightly arching her back against the sofa, pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt. He sucked and swirled his tongue around her clit, hearing the sweet moans leaving the girl's mouth, Y/n whined and moan as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Please. I'm gonna cum- faster..” Listening to her words his fingers curled inside her as he began to get sloppy eating her out, pulling his hair tighter Y/n felt her orgasm grow in the pit of her core. Moaning uncontrollably Shiu smirked at the state he had the girl in, pulling away and removing his fingers he opened up her folds looking at the mess he was creating, Y/n looked down at what he was doing wondering why he stopped.

Shiu keeps her folds open before spitting on her cunt, watching it slowly slide down inside her, smiling at her he goes back in eating her out. Pushing her legs up Shiu sticks his tongue inside her, she cries and begs him to let her cum. Y/n started to breathe heavily as her legs shook slightly in his hands. He got sloppy with her, sticking his tongue in and out of her collecting her juices. Overwhelmed by his tongue she came on his face, Shiu stood up licking his lips, and chuckled lightly at the girl.

“You look so pretty, sweetheart, and look at the mess you made. It's all over your legs.” Shiu cooed at Y/n leaning down to grab her face “I'm all sticky now..” she looked up at him sulking at the mess he made her have, Shiu unbuttoned his shirt taken it off. Y/n slowly got off the couch getting on her knees, she looked up at him biting her lip as she smiled at him “So impatient..” Shiu undid his pants pulling them down negligibly, pulling out his dick.

Looking at his size, he pulled her hair making her flinch slightly from the tug. “Open your mouth for me sweetheart” Shui was quiet yet still had a deep depth in his voice. Y/n slowly opened her mouth to Shiu, he slapped his dick on her tongue a few times before spitting in her mouth. Shoving his dick in her mouth making her gag harshly not being ready to take him in, Shiu groaned from the feeling of being in her mouth looking down at her with full cheeks.

He stroked in her mouth pulling her hair and making her look up at him as he penetrated her throat, Y/n rested her hands on her thighs hallowing out her cheeks and having a tightened grasp on him. With the sensation of Y/n sucking him off, Shiu groaned repeatedly throwing his head back slightly “shit sweetheart... You're trying to drain me already with that pretty little mouth of yours.” his praise made Y/n feel determined to make him cum.

“Fuck just like that” he started thrusting in her mouth faster moaning as his face scrunched up, slobber sticking to the sides of her mouth Y/n whined and whimpered from the sense of his dick twitching in her mouth. Grunting and breathing heavily Shiu looked up at the ceiling, eyes fluttering from his climax coming in close. Y/n was enjoying the sight of the man in his orgy, Shiu took her head and pushed his dick further down her throat.

His dick twitched before shooting a thick warm liquid into her mouth, removing his hand from her hair he pulled out, stroking himself shooting more cum into her face and breast. Swallowing his cum Y/n stood up and Shiu looked down at her, grabbing her by the neck he pulled her in close kissing them as he walked her over to the sofa pushing her back down.

“Are you on birth control?” He asked her pulling her by one of her legs, lifting them, and pushing them behind her head leaving her in a mating press. She nodded her head yes “Yes I'm on birth control.” she spoke tiredly but still loud enough for him to hear her voice. Shiu smiled at her answer as he aligned himself with her entrance, “Good. Wouldn't want any misfortunes to happen now would we sweetheart?”

She nodded her head no at his words, Shiu pushed himself inside her entrance holding her legs tighter. Y/n gripped his shoulders arching her back as she tried adjusting to his size. “Let me know when I can start..” whining as she adjusted “You can move-“ before she could even finish her sentence Shiu started thrusting inside her.

Her nails scratched at his back as she moaned louder, Grunting Shiu looked down at her. He gradually sped up loving the sound of her crying and the markings she left on his back, Y/n moaned as he picked up momentum. “Faster please..” She begged him looking into his eyes, Shiu pushed her legs back further looking at her needy face and listening to her begging he felt determined to meet her needs.

He smirked slowing down some, Y/n quickly noticed the change throwing her head back whining from his painfully slow pace “What's wrong sweetheart you look aggravated?” Shiu teased and poked fun at her as his thrust got slower “Please- please go fast I need this- please let me have this.” Y/n’s begging turned Shiu on a lot, bending down he kissed her lips a few times as he sped up.

The two moaned together moaning loudly enough for a small group of people to gather at the entrance, strippers giggled and gossiped at the sound of their colleague's Promiscuous manner. Back in the room with Y/n and Shiu, his bottom slapped against her thighs. The sounds of her cunt made vulgar noises, mixing in with the moans they made together. Y/n felt the rise of her climax in the pit of her stomach.

“I'm so close, and I don't even know what you're name is... And you don't even know mine” Her vision blurred as she talked, Shiu smiled at her before his dick twitched and throbbed inside her walls. She mentioned the fact she didn't know his name, leaning down Shiu whispered something in her ear, repeating what he said “Shiu Kong…” The way his name rolled off her tongue made him throb more leaving deep strokes inside of Y/n, applying pressure on her spot.

Squeezing his shoulders she came on his dick from her area being pressed severely, a few minutes after Shui came inside her. Pulling out he looked down at her grinning at the mess he made, she felt his cum leak out of her. Shiu put on his clothes, tied his tie, and buttoned his shirt.

Pulling out his notepad and pen, he wrote down his name and number setting it on her chest “Call me sweetheart” Y/n picked up the number and looked at him weekly nodding. “My name is Y/n.” he smiled at her name repeating it a few times “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n” he threw two stacks of money beside Y/n before leaving the girl to sit in the private section, opening the door to the small group of women who listened attentively at the door moved quickly away from the door getting back to work.

Shiu made his way back to the front of the strip as we patiently waited for Toji to finish, pulling out a carton of cigarettes as he waited.

[tr4gictea]

True Meaning: Prologue

Isekai teen!reader + Genshin Impact

❥Masterlist

Tags: none

Including: Introduction to the reader

word count: 1,309 words

A/n: Imma be honest, I thought I posted this story on Wednesday but apparently I just saved it to my drafts 😭.

This is a series that I want to start if you guys want me to, if not then I will still be posting this story along with my regular one-shots, headcanons, and stories but not as regularly. But if do want this to continue leave a note down below so I know that you guys like this and want more content of this story. :P

Next...

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

Your head was pounding, it felt like someone took a sword and stabbed it right through your head. Around you were tall trees with glowing blue flowers surrounding the bases of the trees. You don't know how you got here, one moment you were playing genshin in bed, then a voice called out to you.

"(Y/n), your soul is not of this world, you must move to the next," And all of a sudden you were lying on the muddy grass.

You got up and looked around, there was none in sight other than two slim foxes in the distance. Where were you? Exploring the area ahead you saw a small rock formation that looked like a little bear, and next to it was a bundle of lit candles. 

Continuing on you follow the stream next to you. On your way you pass by some small statues that you could compare to puppies or bear cubs. The path looked oddly familiar to you, it felt like you had walked down it before. You walk for about ten minutes passing by Japanese style gates before you spot an... electro seelie?! 

These only exist in genshin?! This cant be real! Wait. This can't be real, because it is a dream! That's why that path seemed so familiar! You smiled to yourself, proud that you “figured” it out. 

But if you are dreaming of the world of genshin that means you can explore the real Inazuma yourself! You've explored the Inazuma area hundreds of times so trying to find Inazuma City shouldn't be hard too. Plus the Raiden Shogun's home is so big that you could see it from miles away.

You walk down the path careful not to alert the hullichurl camps of your presence and make it to the village homes right outside of Inazuma city. When walking in you are greeted by a large tree with pink leaves falling down onto the ground.

As you pass by the villagers give you weird looks. They look you up and down then turn away from you. What's up with them? You wonder as you dust off your baggy black shirt that says 'return of the vampurrr' with a woman screaming at a giant cat and then shoving your hands in your teenage mutant in turtle pajama pants pockets. Wait, you have your sleeping clothes on. Maybe that's why they're giving you weird looks. The only thing that would maybe be okay for you to wear is the Vivienne Westwood Necklace you got off of amazon for 15 dollars. The orb in the middle of the necklace which was originally silver turned into a clear ball almost as if it was made of glass. Well, this is a dream so these people can deal with your choice of clothing.

You continue down the path and head up stone stairs where you see Yoimiya's firework shop and Hajime's blacksmith. He looks hard at work and for the first time you see him move away from the anvil and head to the fire.

I guess my dreams took a little creative liberty you thought as you walked past them. Everything in the city felt more lively than in the games. You saw more kids running up and down the streets, adults talking in groups, and even a pack of doushin traveling out of the city with Kujuo Sara leading them. You had a more creative imagination than you thought.

You walked by so many iconic places in the games that amazed you. Like the sango detective agency and Yae Publishing House. You even passed by Shouta, the little boy who's always offering stuff to the archons.

It couldn't hurt to talk to him and besides he had his hands clasped together and aggressively saying “pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” over and over again. "Whatcha doing?" You ask about appearing behind him. 

"I've heard that I can make a wish to the archon once I have placed the offering in the shrine. If the archon likes my offering, my wish will definitely be granted." he excitedly points to the shrine which has Konpeito candies placed at its base. He sounds exactly like he does in the game. You wonder how realistic your dream is. "I have brought all of my snacks here today, and I'd like to wish that the archon will cancel the exam tomorrow!"

"Have you gotten your wish yet?" You question. You know what he's gonna say but you're just curious to hear his voice lines.

"Hmm... It works about once in a dozen times... Last time, I wished bad luck upon someone who bullied me, and then he flunked his exam, haha!" He kept talking and brought up Yoimiya offering him fireworks and Itto as he describes 'big guy with the horns'.

Once he finishes talking he goes off script and asks "Why are you dressed like that?"

This question catches you off guard which causes you to stutter. "I, um well... I... bye." And with that, you turn on your heel and walk in the other direction leaving him with a confused look on his face. You didn't know how to answer that so you just left. Besides this wouldn't affect you as this was all a dream, you told yourself.

You continue walking past the Inazuma Katheryne staring lifelessly at nothing. You continued through Inazuma, still getting weird looks from the locals, but you finally made it to the place you wanted to see all this time. The Raiden Statue.

She was so much taller than she was in the game. Her hands were about as big as the two of you. The wings had glowing visions on them, you could only assume that the vision hunt decree was still in effect.

Looking at all the visions had you thinking about elemental power. If I'm here and not technically from this world does that mean that I can gain elemental powers by touching the statute of seven? Am I the traveler frfr?!?! As soon as the thought crossed your mind you raced to get to Ritou. You almost nearly catch the attention of some hilluchurls but are quick to get away from them. Arriving at Ritou you waste no time in looking at the shops around you and head straight to the Statue of Seven. It looks worn down and beat up. You go up to it and reach your hand out as the traveler did in the games and touch it. As you do, a crackle of electro power pops out of the statue and falls into your body. Looking down you see the originally clear orb of your Vivienne Westwood pendant now glowing electro-light.

"Woah," You reach your hand out and imagine a burst of electro coming out of your fingers and then... Nothing? Your hand remains the same and no elemental powers come out of you.

"Hmm... Maybe I'm supposed to say something... Uhh, aberacdabera!"

BOOM!

A large sudden burst of electro energy burst through your hands and hits a nearby tree, splitting it in half

"S-shit!" I hope none heard that...

"It came from over the wall, let's go around," 

Nope they definitely heard that, I have to go.

You set off running on the opposite side of the path you came up from. You snuck your way back into the Ritou market. And you spent the rest of your dream walking around Ritou until you started to feel tired.Hmm, that's weird, can you get tired in dreams? Maybe this is the dream's way of telling me it's over... But I don't wanna go... I still haven't seen Liyue or Fontaine yet... You try to steady yourself on a nearby tree when you fall over in exhaustion. Even if it was only for a day you still enjoyed your time here. Maybe you'd have another dream like this again…

More Genshin Impact Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

This is a series that I want to start if you guys want me to, if not then I will still be posting this story along with my regular one-shots, headcanons, and stories but not as regularly. But if you do want this to continue leave a note down below so I know that you guys like this and want more content about this story :P

Thank you for reading <3

[pedrospatch]

Is there anything that Ellie might have seen that made her suspicious of Peach and Joel hooking up? Maybe Joel returning home SUPER early one morning with a giant smile on his face?

Hi my love, thank you for sending this in! I got the best idea while wolfing down my dinner. I did tweak it just a tad 🤍

Warnings/Tags: Ellie being a lil shit, hickeys, and Joel doesn’t get to have his morning coffee.

Word Count: 445

Joel walked into the kitchen. “Mornin’ kiddo.”

“It’s about fucking time,” Ellie rolled her eyes. She stood in front of the gas powered stove doing her best to keep her eggs from sticking to the frying pan with a spatula. “I thought I was going to have to go find a fucking prince to kiss your ass awake, dude. Don’t you have to head out for patrol in like five minutes?”

“More like ten. I still got a little time.” He stifled a yawn and walked over to get his pot of coffee going. “You cookin’? Since when the hell do you cook?”

She scoffed. “Since you’ve been sleeping in late every morning for the past two and a half weeks,” she remarked, shaking her head. “If I wait around for you to wake up and make me breakfast, I’ll fucking starve.”

“Quit bein’ so dramatic.” Joel glanced into the frying pan. “There’s a shit ton of shell in there, kiddo.”

“What can I say, I like a little extra crunch,” Ellie deadpanned. She turned to him, watching as he opened the cabinets to grab a mug. Just like every morning for the past two and a half weeks, he was smiling from ear to ear. “What the hell are you so damn happy about, Joel?”

“Can’t I just be in a good mood?”

“No, because then that would mean hell’s frozen over.” As he turned around to lean against the kitchen counter, her eyes widened in shock. “Whoa! What the fuck is that thing on your neck?”

“Huh?” Joel’s smile faded as he reached up and touched the spot she was staring at. “What the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?” Whirling around, he picked up the stainless steel toaster on the counter and glanced at his reflection. His eyebrows shot up in surprise to see a bruise the size of a silver dollar on his neck, right above his collarbone. 

Shit. 

You’d left him with a love bite.

Ellie’s mouth fell open. “Is that a—?”

He was quick to shut her down. “No.”

“It sure as hell looks like one, Joel.”

Joel set the toaster down, shaking his head. “Well it ain’t,” he said. “Somethin’ must have bit me.” He winced, realized he’d open the door nice and wide for the little shithead.

“Something or someone?” Ellie smirked. 

“Ellie,” he warned her.

“Could it be the same someone who’s had you walking around every morning with a big stupid fucking on smile on your face?” she continued to tease him.

“That’s it, I’m fuckin’ outta here.” Joel spun around on the heel of his boot and stalked out of the kitchen—without his morning coffee.