#anyways maybe I’m wrong maybe we’ll get a Happy End for them

[i-will-always-love-the-jedi]

doomed by the narrative :´(

Bonus Elzar realizing that he can protect her all he wants but he will never be able to save Avar from herself

…

#poor babies :´( #also i refuse to draw Elzar with a beard #don’t hold it against me #anyways back to my agenda #the fact that they are always depicting Elzar as the one most likely to fall #but Avar would be so much more interesting tbh #also she IS doomed by the narrative #almost every villain in phase 3 has beef with her #the hutts and general the Nihil and Lourna and fucking Ro #anyways maybe I’m wrong maybe we’ll get a Happy End for them #elvar #also yes im back with The symbolism of halos #and those weird hands belong to people who have died because #angst #me when I have to do so much work stuff but I sketch my silly little space wizards instead #star wars the high republic #the high republic #elzar mann #avar kriss

[wttcsms]

a very old atsumu draft from 2021 that im afraid won't make it out the gdocs, but i reread it and realized how silly and light it was & maybe you guys will too!!!!

atsumu miya’s guide to escaping from the friend zone, atsumu miya x f!reader

third year au, enemies to lovers, shoujo manga vibes* features romcom elements, knowing each other since childhood, he falls first AND he falls the absolute hardest, getting together, miscommunication as a means to be comedic not for poorly manufactured drama/angst, lighthearted with a happy ending, no angst 1k written, est. ~10k when completed 

STEP ONE: ACTUALLY GET TO THE FRIEND ZONE FIRST

You’re in love with Atsumu Miya — you just don’t know it yet. 

At least, that’s what Atsumu claims as he speaks with his mouth full, bits of rice flying out of his mouth, leaving everyone in his immediate vicinity disgusted. 

“She doesn’t even know you exist, idiot.” Osamu doesn’t look amused as he pulls his bento box closer to himself, trying to avoid the hailstorm that is Atsumu’s half chewed grains of rice. 

“She does!” He’s awfully indignant when he replies, looking like he’s about to make a move to slap his brother but thinks better of it. As captain of the Inarizaki Boys’ Volleyball team, he has to learn to behave lest he lose the title altogether. 

“Wanting you dead isn’t the same thing as loving you,” Rintarou is quick to chime in, and the first and second years on the team snicker.

“It’s a work in progress.” Atsumu snaps, failing to mention that you loving him has been a ‘work in progress’ for the past decade and counting. 

(Not like he’s, you know, obsessively keeping track. Definitely not.) 

The two of you have been attending the same school since your elementary days. On the first day of class, your teacher made everyone hold hands with the person next to them, and a five year old Atsumu just so happened to be the person seated next to a five year old you. 

“This person is going to be your buddy for the rest of the school year!” Your teacher exclaimed, clapping her hands together and smiling too cheerfully for so early in the morning. 

Then, someone had exclaimed that boys had cooties, and every girl buddied with a boy immediately took back their hand, either on the brink of tears and dramatically turning up their nose in disgust. 

Atsumu likes to claim that this is where things went wrong (never minding the fact that you had been the only girl not to drop a boy’s hand), but what really started your dislike for him (that has since spiraled into his closest friends thinking you want their captain dead) happened in middle school. 

As fate would have it, you were seated in front of Atsumu for math. He had (still does) a bad habit of chewing gum as loudly and obnoxiously as possible (from your perspective, anyway; truthfully, Atsumu just lacks self-awareness). He made it hard to concentrate during lectures and tests, and midway through the year, you complained to your teacher. 

(“Why do you not want to be seated close to Mr. Miya, hmm?” Your teacher smiled at you, his tone light and teasing. “Is it because of a crush?” 

“Gross! No! I do not have a crush on Miya!” Your eyes were wide, and you were shaking your head. “He just gets on my nerves. He’s always stealing my pencils and smacking on gum and hiding my textbook-“ 

“You know, Miss [Surname], middle school boys are mean to girls they like. I’m afraid that my seating charts are always permanent, but even if they weren’t, I think I would make Mr. Miya very upset if I moved you.” 

“Who cares about that? He’s so annoying. Let him bother someone else!” 

“Ah, [Surname], class is only in session for a few more months. If it gets worse, then we’ll see to adjusting the seating arrangements. For now, let’s get you back to your desk and focused on these fractions.” Your math teacher doesn’t bother hiding a smile as he jokes with you. “You better be careful; he might yank your hair and think it’s a proper declaration of love.” 

Your math teacher never tells you that Atsumu spent two weeks of summer break cleaning this classroom to get seated next to you.) 

The complaining didn’t work, and you were still stuck in the same seat in front of Atsumu. Then, one day, while he was ignoring the teacher’s lecture and giving his attention to something more worthwhile (such as the back of your head), Atsumu noticed a spider crawling from your back and aiming upwards, towards your hair. He watched in morbid fascination as the spider made its way into your strands of hair, and he reacted quickly, not quite thinking things through. 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled, forcing you to tilt back with a yelp, which then caused the entire class to turn and stare at the two of you. 

The spider was nowhere to be found, at least, but your teacher had to stop his lesson, shaking his head while he walked to the classroom phone. 

“Honestly, Mr. Miya, what goes on in your head?” The teacher sounded like he was holding back laughter as he dialed the principal’s office. 

Meanwhile, you straightened yourself out and turned to glare at Atsumu, who could only give you a sheepish grin in return. 

“Sorry,” he told you, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Ya should be thankin’ me—“ 

“Thanking you?” You practically yelled it out. “I should be beating you. What is your problem with me, Miya?” 

And that was the moment when Atsumu Miya realized that getting you to fall in love with him might be a bit of a struggle. 

But that was then, and this is how. Now, you’re both in your third year of high school. Now, Atsumu is the captain of a team that’s an absolute powerhouse. Now, Atsumu is a box blond and despite his harsh attitude, girls are still vying for his attention. 

He figures it’s only a matter of time before you come to your senses and join them. 

You never do, though, and now he’s stuck rethinking his master plan. His friends are no help whatsoever, and the school year is going to fly by if he’s not careful. He knows you’ve been accepted to Tokyo U, and he knows that he’s probably not heading to college — not when professional scouts are watching his games and have the power to sign him right after graduation. He’ll never have a chance to be this close to you ever again, and he has to act now. 

“Work in progress, my ass.” Rin snorts. “You’ll be lucky to even be her friend at this point.” 

Now, Atsumu doesn’t like to consider other people as geniuses, but he’ll settle for considering Rintarou his muse. All this time, Atsumu’s been trying to get you to love him, completely disregarding the fact that you have to like someone before that can happen. 

And people like their friends. For the most part. 

“Ya know what, Rin? You might actually have a point.” 

“There was no point. I was making fun of you. Whatever you’re thinking about doing, here’s actual advice: don’t.” No one on the team is particularly surprised when Atsumu doesn’t take that advice.

#my gdocs is literally hell

[eemcintyre]

All or Nothing at All (Tom Cruise)

TW- allusions to sex? Other than that, it's fluffy sweetness, a bit of angst, and then sweetness again.

Summary- Attending a friend's wedding compels Tom to ask you an important ~question~, and it invites a conversation about the direction of your relationship and your anxieties about it. Could be read as a prequel to "Something to Talk About" if desired??

I said I would do it, and I have finally delivered- I just had to muscle past the mire of depression and procrastination lol. I don't feel like this is my best, but hey maybe I'm wrong and hopefully y'all still enjoy it :)

It was long after sunset when the wooden front door of Tom’s Colorado home creaked open and he and Y/N stumbled over the threshold. Having just completed the short flight home from a friend’s wedding, they laughed and reminisced over the evening’s antics- the ceremony, the food, and the wedding party members who’d been caught hooking up.

“….But who do you think had the better speech?” Y/N hung her coat on the rack next to the door, placing her shoes, which she had removed long ago, on the floor underneath.

“Oh, definitely the best man,” Tom replied, tossing his house key onto the kitchen island, yawning and running his fingers through his hair, unkempt after the day of activity. “When he started dancing to his own rendition of ‘You’re My Best Friend’, I knew the competition was over.”

“He did make it pretty hard to beat,” Y/N laughed, following Tom into the kitchen. “But I think he was also already a couple of tequilas in.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her side against his chest. “I don’t know, you didn’t need any tequila to break it down pretty damn hard to the Spice Girls,” he smirked, quirking his eyebrows.

“And you loved every second of it,” she retorted, giving him a playful push as she stepped away to undo her upswept hair, which was half-falling down anyway. “But while we’re on the topic of the music- what kind of self-respecting wedding DJ doesn’t play ‘The Way You Look Tonight’?”

“Y’know, you’re right. I kept waiting for it and it never happened,” he marveled, disappearing into the living room as he shook his head.

“Tom?”

The notes of Frank Sinatra’s aforementioned tune began to lilt through the kitchen entryway, and Y/N wandered in that direction, leaning against the wooden support, smiling. Tom, who had been standing next to the stereo with an expectant grin when she arrived, approached her with an outstretched hand. They began to dance leisurely across the living room, the expanse of windows around them providing a backdrop of stars and silhouetted birch trees.

“I guess we’ll just have to get married so we can set things right. Play Sinatra’s whole discography,” Tom chuckled, holding Y/N’s hand against his chest.

“And then end the night with ‘Baby Got Back’,” she joked in return.

“Oh, absolutely.”

She joined Tom in the laughter until it seemed to go on for a bit too long, and she was struck with the notion he might not be entirely joking. The music seemed to recede into the background as the conversation continued.

“Y’know, this has all gotten me thinking… why don’t we get married?” He gazed at her intently as his voice took on an unmistakably sincere tone.

“What? Are you crazy?” she cackled, an intense blush climbing her face. He launched her into a spin as the music crescendoed.

“I love you. Why is that crazy?” he replied, once they returned to face each other.

“No, I mean, it’s not crazy.” With one hand she gripped his shoulder, and with the other, she stroked the side of his face. “Tom, I adore you and I’m really happy…”

“Then, what-”

“But you like everything to be new and exciting. You’ll eventually get bored of me.” Her laugh and an attempt at a forced smile faded, and she stared at the rug beneath their feet.

“Are you kidding?” Tom was incredulous as he gently gripped her chin, tilting her face upward again. “Or do you think maybe I need someone stable in my life that I can count on, who doesn’t spew all the fake bullshit that I have to deal with from everyone else?” Their dancing was now confined to only a small patch of the floor, where they were not so much dancing as just rocking back and forth. “Otherwise, the exciting stuff isn’t enjoyable. It just becomes constant chaos. And having all of this,” he gestured generally at the house, “It doesn’t mean anything to me anymore if I can’t share it with you. It’s just some lonely guy’s big, empty house.”

He finally paused as Y/N stared thoughtfully at him and he stared back, unsuccessful in determining whether her expression was affirmative or negative. As she appeared at a loss for words, he felt the continued need to fill the space.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m an all-or-nothing kinda guy…”

Finally, she managed to speak again. “You know I am too, and that’s what scares me. If I commit to you like that, I need it to be forever. I need to know that, when things get difficult, we’ll work through it and you won’t just leave like you’ve done before.”

As she referenced Tom’s past relationships, it stung, but he knew she was right. They had stopped dancing entirely by this point and simply stood in the middle of the living room with the stereo playing.

“I need to know that you’d always be in it one hundred percent, and not just when it’s easy and new and interesting and I don’t have any wrinkles.” She smiled ruefully, clutching his hands. “We’ve got such a good thing going. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Darlin’, if you really love me like I love you- and I think you do- please don’t talk yourself out of this just because I know you don’t like change.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I get that you’re worried, and honestly, I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t.” He shrugged, grimacing. “I’ve screwed up a lot, and I haven’t always been the best at decision-making. I know that. But there’s one choice I’ve never regretted, and that’s you.”

He paused, his grave expression softening, as his grin returned. “Think about what an adventure it would be! It’ll be great- we’ll watch movies and fall asleep on the couch, and we’ll cook pancakes together in our underwear and just, like, make love constantly. All over the world.” Y/N giggled as Tom rambled, and he could see her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “We’ll get wrinkled together and be one of those cute, wrinkly old couples. And we’ll work through anything bad that comes our way. You’re one of the toughest ladies I know, and I’m tired of running away from fights. That’s not who I wanna be. You’re the only one who calls me out on my own fake bullshit.”

“You’re pretty good at that yourself,” Y/N murmured with a guilty look, and Tom’s eyes crinkled knowingly.

“I know you’ve taken a lot of chances on me, but I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Finally, one of her hands still in his, he got down on one knee. “So, please just take one more and, I promise, the trend will continue.”

Y/N beamed down at him, and he realized that the gleam in her eyes was from tears, a few of which had rolled down her cheeks. “Cruise, you state a compelling case.”

“Is that a yes?” he inquired, eyes widening.

“It’s a yes,” she nodded vigorously between kisses as he sprang back to his feet and pressed his lips to hers.

They threw their arms around each other and he swept her off her feet, spinning her around to the music that still played.

“And now, you know you’re stuck with me,” she chuckled, sniffing as he wiped the tears from her face.

“God, I hope so.”

#tom cruise #fluff #angst #tom cruise fluff #tom cruise angst #one shot #imagine #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise fic #tom cruise fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #creative writing #just for fun #just roll with it #self insert #x reader #reader insert

[vibratingskull]

First time making a request, so if I do something wrong, I’m sorry!

This idea is inspired by another request about Thrawn and his s/o reuniting in ep6 of Ahsoka, which I loved btw. So, s/o (reader) realised she/they were pregnant shortly after Thrawn disappeared and so when they reunite, Thrawn is meeting his child (that he didn’t know existed) for the first time and his s/o is so happy because she/they never thought they’d meet. I really want to see how Thrawn would react to finding out he has a child and that he missed the first 9(ish) years of their life, I feel like he’d be so soft towards his s/o and child but also so enraged (even if he doesn’t show it) that he missed so much of his child’s life. Either fem!reader or gn!reader is okay, whichever works for you!

Anyway, I hope this made sense. Have a great day!

You did good anon, don't worry! ❤️

Thrawnxf!reader but no pronouns used

You place yourself between your daughter and the Great Mothers by instinct. You keep them at bay, holding her tiny hand in yours, she looks at them curious but they look at her like a predator would a prey. Casually, you reveal your blaster attached to your hips. You already got troubles to get Morgan to accept your daughter for the trip, you’re not gonna let some witches take her. 

They avert their gazes, slowly turning away.

Good.

Suddenly you hear a long loud hollow sound resonate in the sky. Your daughter presses herself against your leg, digging her nails in the fabric of your tunic.

“It is okay, Thooken.” you comfort her, caressing her head “It’s your father coming.”

She raises her gaze to you, you can see fear and apprehension but also a hint of hope.

“We’ll see dad today?” she asks with a little voice.

“He is the Grand Admiral, show some respect!” Morgan shouts over the noise.

You give her black look, she’s really getting on your nerves lately. The only reason you’re all here is thanks to you manipulating Ahsoka Tano to retrieve the map and recommending Baylan and Shin for the mission and she got the dirty habits to place herself as the leader of the expedition. One day you’ll end it all up with a bullet at the back of her skull.

“Cut her some slack, she can call him dad and however she pleases” you bite back “Contrary to you.”

She gives you a dirty look and you smirk at her in response. The exact same word resonates in both of your mind

Bitch.

You feel air movement in your back and spin to discover the Chimaera in all her glory. Your smile broaden. Thooker opens her eyes round like saucers.

“What’s that?” she mumbles.

“This is an ISD, sweety.” you take her in your arms, she grew a lot lately, soon you won’t be able to carry her anymore “This is the ship of your father.”

“Dad commands a ship this big?!” she goes into raptures.

“He used to command a whole fleet of ISDs.” you explain, kissing her cheek.

Her expression darkens.

“What if he doesn’t want to meet me?” she asks full of doubt “what if he doesn’t want me.”

“Oh, my sweet. Of course he wants to meet you. I am sure it is most dear wish.” You lie to her.

Unfortunately you didn’t have time to announce Thrawn the great news of your pregnancy back then, he never knew that was about to become a father. You wish you had the time, it would have been another reason for him to hold on for ten years, as of now you don’t even know in which shape you’ll meet him. Maybe he has been mutilated or became disabled, knowing he had a child somewhere in the galaxy would have given him comfort during dark times…

The Chimaera positions herself over the stone structure and slowly goes down, revealing to you an army of Stormtroopers in ranks, their armors seem patched up and hold on with red ribbons. You bite your cheek, life is not easy around here.

Suddenly they all start chanting the name of your lost husband.

That’s new…

Thrawn used to hate those displays of blind obedience. They had to adapt, it seems like.

A figure starts to descend the ally of stormtroopers, taking it’s time. 

You recognize him instantly.

Your husband.

Your loved one.

Thrawn.

Your heart sing and flutters at his sight.

You designate him to Thooken with a smile but she recoils over herself in your arms.

Morgan Elsebeth walks to place herself in the front and you can’t help but shake your head at her behavior. Baylan and Shin remain in the back, more respectful and humble.

“What was first just a dream has become a frightening reality for those who may oppose us.” he says with a smirk. “Great Mothers, I salute you.”

You smile blissfully.

Finally.

You are reunited!

What a blessing.

“Soon we should all escape this exile thanks to the help of Morgan Elsbeth.” 

Morgan bows with a smile.

“I am ever your servant, Grand Admiral.” she says with a fawning voice.

You remain in the back, managing your effect.

“They brought a prisoner.” one of the Mothers speaks.

“You never spoke of this.” he seems puzzled but not necessarily surprised.

They continue talking about Sabine Wren, Baylan reveals it’s thanks to him she’s there. Thrawn's attention is fully focused on them, giving you time to investigate Thooken’s behavior peacefully.

“What’s wrong, sweety?” you murmur.

“I am scared.” she pleas “What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Oh, my love.” you squeeze her tight “What father doesn’t love his daughter to death?”

She looks at you dead in the eyes.

“Tarkin.”

Ouch. Touché.

“He’s not Tarkin, sweety. He will love you like you’ve never been loved before, I promise.”

She circles her arms around your neck, hiding her face from everyone else.

“You are quite right… She will be of great use to us.” Thrawn nods with a light grin to Baylan before turning back to Morgan “What other great news do you bring to me on this day?”

Morgan seems taken aback, what great news? All news are bad lately, except yours.

“I have got one.” You announce clearly, revealing yourself to him.

His pupils widen at your sight, his light grin broadens.

“(Y/n), I was starting to wonder where you could be.” he says, amused and, you think, relief.

You come closer with love in your eyes, holding your daughter firmly.

“Who that might be in your arms?” he asks, tilting his head legitimately curious.

You turn your head to Thooken but she grips you tighter, refusing to budge.

“Little one?” he calls gently, he pushes a strand of hair behind her ears, revealing her blue skin to him.

You see him freeze. It lasted less than a second but you didn’t miss it.

“Thooken.” you encourage her.

Her grip loosen a tad and she deigns turning her head to meet her father. They cross their gaze and he stares at her, his knuckle grazing her cheek, with a shocked and puzzled expression. She immediately hides in the crook of your neck.

“She’s a bit shy.” you explain, caressing her back.

“It is quite okay…” he says lowly, still shocked. “She must be tired by this trip, as are all of you.” He exclaims for everyone to hear, recovering his serious demeanor. “You should use the remainder of the day to recover some energy. Captain Enoch, please escort them to their quarters.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“He doesn't like me!” You sweetheart laments, seated on the bed while you freshen up in the bathroom. You’re surprised the room got one.

“Of course he does. He’s just a little shocked.” you come back into the chamber “He never was really demonstrative, give him some time.”

She keeps her gaze low, she’s really sad. You come hug her on the bed.

“He loves you very much already, his whole world just got shaken up.”

She buries her head in the fabric of your shirt and you remain like that for a minute when you hear knocks on the door.

It’s Enoch.

“The Grand Admiral wants to see you both.”

you walk in the cold stone corridors of the citadel, following the curious trooper without a word. You finally reach a large door where Enoch leaves you.

“Ready?” You ask Thooken.

She just gulps.

You knock and open the door. Thrawn immediately stands up from his desk with an holographic map.

“(Y/n)...” He exclaims like he doesn’t believe it himself.

You throw yourself at him with a satisfied sigh, you hug him tight, revelling in his presence and scent. It’s been so long…

He seizes your face and kisses you languorously. You moan of pleasure against his soft lips, squeezing him.

“Ten years…” he whispers, eyes in yours.

“We are here now, love.” you caress his cheek “We can all go home now.”

He smiles at you before his gaze ends up on Thooken. He takes a step towards her, unsure like she would run away at any movement. She doesn’t move back but doesn’t move towards him either.

He kneels, placing himself at her level. He extends his hand to her, palm open.

“Let me see your face.” he gently asks.

She closes the gap after an hesitation. He holds her face between his two hands, all words seem to escape him.

“What is your name, young lady?”

“Thooken.” she reveals.

“Thooken.” he repeats “And how old are you?”

“9 years old.”

His thumbs caress her cheeks almost mind-absently.

“Maker.” He whispers “I had planned all the possibilities for today, but you managed to surprise me, Thooken.”

“It’s… a good thing?” she asks with a bit of fear in the tone.

“It is a very good thing. A marvelous thing.” He pulls her gently into a hug, manipulating her small body like the most fragile thing in the galaxy.

You smile when you see her hugging him back.

“Dad…” she mumbles with cracks in the voice.

“I am here my dear.” he comforts her, “I am with you now.”

“We are all together.” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder “And we will remain together.”

“Indeed.” he says with a hard tone “I will need to settle the score with Bridger. He robbed me of so much.” he spites.

He parts with Thooken and kisses her cheek before standing up to look at you.

“A chance we got his friend in a cell, she can be of some use to me.”

“I thought you would honor Baylan's engagement?” you frown.

“It was before I realized he deprived me of my child. I can not let that go unpunished.” 

You look into his red eyes to realize that his decision is taken and there is no changing his mind now.

You would almost pity Bidger.

But it is all his fault, after all.

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose

☆Tag list

#thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // eighteen

| @maladi777 | @poisonedsimmer | @mangopysims

next / previous / beginning

COURTESANS: Bye, bye! Thanks for coming! ASTER: Even when I’m not paying, they get all my money… TALILA: You were robbed? ASTER: Robbed? Yes, let’s go with that. Anyways, I’m sure not up to snuff, perhaps milady will escort me back to my room? TALILA: No, no, I think you’re better off with a different sort of escort. ASTER: Eh? TALILA: Tada! ASTER: Pass. TALILA: Oh go on. I’ll see you both tomorrow! ASTER: Little devil… who taught her this? THERION: I have an idea. ASTER: Ugh, on second thought, I’m not that drunk. I’ll head back on my own. THERION: You’re still avoiding me, then? ASTER: I told you I— ASTER: sighs Oh, alright, fine. Let’s go. THERION: I admit, I didn’t expect you’d be so bothered. I always thought you were type not to get hung up on anything. ASTER: I’m not hung up. Look, I don’t like to let things get to me. But sometimes, things get to me. THERION: It’s just a game— ASTER: I’ve played those kinds of games before. Not willingly, and it was never my turn. It’s always the ones laughing who write the rules, and those on the receiving end of a poorly dealt hand, well, it’s not that fun. THERION: I just… ASTER: If you want to go around mucking people up in trials, I can’t tell you not to. THERION: I don’t want to upset you, Aster. ASTER: Why should you care? THERION: Well, you’re my friend. ASTER: Friend? That’s… interesting. THERION: At least, I thought we were. I guess maybe I was wrong. ASTER: I don’t know if you are. Honestly, I’ve never stayed long in anyone’s lives, and they’ve never stayed long in mine. I’m sure once we all leave here, we’ll go our separate ways. Are we “friends”? Maybe, for a time. While it’s convenient. I don’t know. I’ve never had one before. THERION: Never? ASTER: Are friends people you see from time to time? People you’re familiar with that probably wouldn’t bat an eye if they saw you in a spot of trouble? I’ve got people I’d drink with. Hells, maybe even people I’d lend a silverpence, if the timing was right. But beyond that, beats me. THERION: I would say… a friend is some you can rely on. Someone who wouldn’t go out of their way to hurt you, because even if they might not say so, they care about your happiness, and they want to see you well. Maybe your ideals don’t always align, but you enjoy each other’s company, and you’d hate to see them go. ASTER: Can’t imagine anyone feeling that way about me. THERION: Well, I do. ASTER: Hm. THERION: I’m sorry… about what happened during the trial. I… it’s not the first time I’ve gotten carried away. I could make excuses and say I’ve got a knack for following bad orders; It wouldn’t be the first time “playing along” with someone’s ideas got me in trouble. At the end of the day, I was the one who agreed. And I didn’t stop them. Though, this time… I should have drawn my line in the sand. ASTER: And the Witcher? You apologize to her? She’s the one you really hurt, after all. THERION: Eira seems to take things less personally. Though, that’s probably another can of worms entirely. I’ll still talk to her. Drive the point home. ASTER: Good. Probably best. THERION: I can still walk you back to your room, if you’d like. Might not have the same, uh, flare as the Nymph and probably won’t end as excitingly but… ASTER: Ah, might as well. You never know in this city, a poor bard alone and defenseless? My gods, there’s monsters out there!

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #cc: aster songleaf #cc: talila #cc: therion erandaer

[slusheeduck]

Happy

Surely being the lover of an ascended vampire is the happiest ending one could hope for. (Ascended Astarion AU)

This bite was so much like the others. A quick flash of pain, then a soothing numbness as Astarion drank. Falerin’s slip to unconsciousness was soft and gentle, with the comforting weight of his love like a blanket over him.

But as he awoke, something felt very wrong. He was cold, so cold, and there was an unsettling stillness in his chest—his heartbeat, which had always been a fluttering, uncertain thing, had stopped altogether. But most unsettling was the ache in him. The burning in his throat, the gnawing of hunger in his stomach.

His eyes, both a deep red, flew open, and he sat up with a rattling gasp.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Strong, sure hands, feeling nearly warm despite their own chill, rested on his shoulders, easing him back down. “Isn’t that nice, me being the one to say that to you for a change.”

Falerin’s eyes flicked up to Astarion. The vampire—well, ascendant vampire—was already dressed, and he sat lightly on the edge of the bed as he looked over Falerin. He was quiet for a moment, gaze simply traveling over his face. The hunger clawing in Falerin seemed reflected in Astarion’s eyes.

“You are…so beautiful,” he murmured, hand moving up to cup Falerin’s cheek. His thumb stroked his cheekbone, and he smiled. “And you will be beautiful forever.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Falerin’s eyes closed as he let out a long breath, and he opened them again to look up at Astarion. “What exactly happened?”

Astarion’s thumb continued to stroke Fal’s cheek. “You were drained dry,” he said frankly, and his thumb moved to press against the half-drow’s lips. “Then, at the height of your delirium, I granted you one drop of my own blood.” He smiled as he leaned down. “And that was that. Now, my love, there’s nothing that can separate us. Not Cazador, not the fey, not your heart…you’ll be with me forever. We’ll get our happy ending, and it’ll last an eternity.”

Falerin kept his eyes on Astarion as he spoke, finding himself hanging on every word. But…something was odd. The elf’s eyes were flat and cold as he spoke, missing the spark that he’d come to adore. His brows drew together as he pushed himself up to sit.

“And you, love?” he asked softly. “How are you feeling after…everything?”

“Me?” Astarion laughed. “I feel…incredible. This power is more than I could have ever dreamed. I have everything in the world I could want. Cazador is dead, I’m the most powerful vampire in existence. With a bit of time and that pesky brain out of the way, I’ll have all of Baldur’s Gate at my feet…” He cupped Falerin’s chin with his hands. “…and I have the most perfect consort to share it all with.”

Falerin didn’t respond, brow furrowing. Something terrible was gnawing at him, screaming that this was wrong. That this wasn’t Astarion—not his Astarion, anyway. The sweetness, the sarcasm, the uncertainty and earnestness…in this Astarion, in his master, all he could see was hunger.

Astarion tilted his head as Falerin stayed silent. “Oh, little love, what could be bothering you?” he asked softly. “You have the most powerful being in Faerûn ready to satisfy your every whim. It’s the least I could do, after all you’ve given me, to see you happy.”

Falerin glanced up, meeting Astarion’s eyes. He could feel the power in them, sense it radiating off of Astarion. He had given it to him. He could have said no. But…no, this was the right choice. It had to be. He’d live forever, even as a spawn, and he’d have Astarion with him. It was everything he wanted, too.

He gave Astarion a wavering little smile. “I…think it’s the hunger,” he says quietly. “My throat hurts so badly.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. It wasn’t much, but it was something familiar—maybe, maybe it would just take time for him to come back. “I thought you would be. Luckily, I have friends in low places.” He leaned forward to kiss Falerin’s forehead, a little peck without the customary warmth he’d come to expect. “Stay here, my pet. I’ve got just what you need. Then we can explore both of our new abilities, together.”

Falerin watched him go, swallowing hard against the new burn in his throat. It would take time, but he could wait. He’d done this so they would be happy. And he would be happy. He had to be. ~

Within a century, the ordeal of the Netherbrain was a distant memory, a footnote in the storied history of Baldur’s Gate. Life went on, as it always did. New people rose to power, then fell, and the cycle continued.

Except for the case of Astarion Ancunín.

The new lord in the crimson palace was a marked improvement over the old one. He regularly held beautiful events with even more beautiful people. His courtiers, for lack of a better term, were made up of the city’s best and brightest—well, brightest might be an exaggeration. Ever the libertine, the lord had chosen a majority of the household for their looks, though the particularly witty ones were always the ones he showed the most attention to. And who wouldn’t want to be the center of his attention? He had a particular way of making one feel like they were the only person in the entire world.

As for his…condition, well, that was an open secret. Nearly everyone in the city had a friend who aspired to receive the eternal gift from Lord Astarion. Every party ended with at least a dozen new courtiers joining his court. Look at this decadence, was the unspoken message in each soiree, look at how happy everyone is. Don’t you want this? Of course you do. Submit to me, and it’s yours.

To those who had received the gift of the night, Lord Astarion was very open about his origins. How he’d gone from a humble spawn to the powerful ascendant he was now. His spawn—his children, he called them, in a flighty, teasing way that suggested it was one big joke—had it much better than he had. There was no Kennel, no tombs. If they displeased the lord, and it was so rare that anyone did, then there was merely a talk.

It's very hard to act out when you have no option but to obey, after all.

There was just one dark spot, in all of the decadence and glamour of the crimson palace: the lord’s consort, Falerin.

The eldest spawn could remember the early days of the crimson palace, when both lord and consort were the brightest things in the room. How Lord Astarion paraded him around, citing him as the reason behind everything he was able to do. Their wedding had been the event of Baldur’s Gate. Aeterna Amantes, Eternal Lovers, had been the proclamations on every announcement, and even today, Lord Astarion exclusively used it when referring to Falerin. But slowly, the half-drow vampire had stopped coming to events. He didn’t interact with courtiers, outside of the odd snarl and snap when one of the lord’s favorites got a little too comfortable with their station. But then, after a few days with his husband, he would be back to normal: polite and quiet, but content.

Of course, despite Astarion’s clear devotion to his husband, that never stopped young, new spawn from thinking they had a chance. The newest was a tiefling girl, Zapharia—a pretty thing, with soft, rose-gold curls that matched the elegant horns curling from her forehead. She’d been a bard before she’d joined the court, with a sweet voice and a charming way with words that ensured she always knew exactly what to say to get her way. It was no surprise that Astarion had warmed to her.

“Well, forever’s a long time, isn’t it?” she said to the little group of spawn that had settled around her, giving a saucy toss of her head. “The lord can’t be satisfied with someone like him for the long term. He needs someone bright, vibrant…fun.” She sent a knowing look down the hallway, to the lord and his consort’s chambers. “And I can give that to him. You know what, I’m going to give that to him.”

So, with a flounce of pink skirts and a raise of her chin, she made her way back to their chambers. She opened the door, clear voice ringing out as she called, “Lord Astarion!”

“He’s busy.”

Zapharia’s red eyes scanned the room, seeing Falerin at a table. He didn’t even look up at her as he wrote, and she scoffed.

“I bet he is, if you’re asking,” she said, hand going to her hip. “He’ll make time for me, though. Where is he?”

“He won’t.” He dipped his quill before he resumed his writing. “Go back to the main house, Zapharia.”

She scowled, then smirked as she sidled her way over. “Oh, my apologies, Fal.”

“Lord Falerin.”

“Oh, come on, we don’t need to be so formal.” She leaned against the table, watching him write. “After all, Lord Astarion and I have an understanding. Surely he’s told you about me…we spend so much time together, he must have.” She looked over her nails. “He’s told me I’m special.”

“Has he, now?”

“Mm. How fortunate he was to meet me, how much he loves my songs…it goes beyond just pillow talk.” She covered her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh, dear me, how embarrassing. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Falerin didn’t look up. “Last warning, Zapharia,” was all he said.

She stayed put, staring down at him. “It must be hard,” she said, voice dropping. “Knowing that he loved you once. But let’s not kid ourselves, Fal…that ‘eternal lovers’ thing is in the past. Let someone new take care of his needs. It’s the kind thing to do.”

One of the biggest mistakes that courtiers made was thinking that Falerin, by virtue of being a spawn like them, wasn’t a threat. But he was older than all of them, and the hero of Faerûn besides. He knew how to strike, and he knew how to do it quickly.

When Astarion came in, blood coated the carpet and walls of the room, and it had spattered all over the paperwork Falerin had been working on. The chair he’d been in was broken in the struggle, it seemed, and Zapharia lay prone on the floor—neck torn open, eyes staring sightlessly overhead. A makeshift stake, made from one of the chair’s legs, was buried right between her ribs.

Falerin, mouth and hands bloodied, sat silently on a nearby couch, not even looking up as Astarion entered. The elf clicked his tongue.

“Well, you’ve certainly made a mess with this one,” he said, gesturing to Zapharia’s corpse. As Falerin stayed silent, he sighed. “Much as I love the sight of you with blood on your lips, you can’t keep doing this, my pet.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Astarion’s eyes shot over to look at him. “It’s one of those days, then,” he said, voice low. He snapped his fingers. “Come along, my sweet. Let’s clean you up.”

Falerin grimaced, trying to fight the inherent compulsion to follow. But he got to his feet, as he always did, trudging after Astarion to their bedroom. He sat, like a good little spawn, on the edge of the bed as he waited for Astarion to come from the washroom, a damp washcloth in hand. He stayed silent as Astarion dabbed at his face—the touch was gentle, it always was, but clinical and cold—and he stared pointedly at the wall.

“Falerin, look at me.”

Falerin made a face, and he shut his eyes. The rebellion only lasted a moment, though, before Astarion gripped his jaw, just tight enough to hurt.

“Look at me,” he repeated, the compulsion stronger. Falerin’s eyes opened, and he sucked in a deep breath as he stared at Astarion. The elf looked over him for a long moment, then gave another sigh. “Dearest, what’s wrong? You look so unhappy.” Falerin stayed silent. “Don’t tell me you were jealous of her, darling? She was a trinket, like the others. Nothing like you.” He leaned in for a kiss, but Falerin jerked his head away before their lips could touch.

“I hate this,” he said, voice very soft. “I hate this. I hate what our lives are.”

Astarion’s head tilted. “But…but this is what we wanted. This is what we fought for. You and I together, with power that the rest of the miserable wretches of this world could only dream of.”

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Falerin snapped back. “I never wanted to be…holed up like this, to be your…your little treasure.” He looked up, red eyes full of rage as he bared his teeth. “You are not the man I fell in love with.”

Astarion gave a sigh as he rolled his eyes; he’d heard this before. “No, I’m not. The man you fell in love with was weak and frightened and powerless. I’m better. I give you what you deserve, my love. Riches, adoration, a seat at my right hand.” His hands cupped Falerin’s chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “You know you only have to ask, and I’ll give you the world.”

“I don’t want the world. I want…I just want you. Who you were.” Falerin swallowed hard, and he looked up at Astarion, misery etched in his face. “Let’s just…let’s just leave, Astarion.”

“Leave?”

“Yes, leave.” He reached up to wrap a hand around Astarion’s wrist. “Let’s go to Neverwinter, like we said we would all those years ago. Just…just you and me. It’ll be better, so much better than our lives here.”

Astarion stared at him. A century ago, when he’d first ascended, there might have been a flicker of doubt, a bit of his old spark at the suggestion. But his eyes remained flat and cold, even as he laughed.

“Now, little love, whyever would we leave now? We nearly have all of Baldur’s Gate at our beck and call. Another decade, and we’ll be sovereigns. Just. Like. We. Wanted.” He punctuated each of those words with a tap to Falerin’s nose. “Now, stop being ridiculous. We’ve a gala tonight, and we can’t have you bloodied up for it.”

Falerin sat very still, staring hard at Astarion. His lips trembled, but he managed one word.

“No.”

Astarion, already standing up, paused for a moment. Slowly, he tilted his head—a predator locking sights on its prey. “I beg your pardon?”

“No.” Now, Falerin’s whole body was shaking, but he kept his eyes firmly ahead. “No. I’m not doing this anymore. I…I’m going to leave.”

For a moment, Astarion was still and silent, and Falerin thought he may have a chance. But, just as he started to get up, Astarion’s hand was clenched around his jaw again. He surged downward, forcing Falerin’s face upward so he could meet his gaze. Finally, his eyes had some light behind them—fury blazed red as he stared at Falerin. The half-drow couldn’t look away, breath caught in his throat.

“You are not leaving,” Astarion hissed. “I will not lose you. You will stay here, with me, like you always have. You belong here.” He was quiet for a moment, and his expression softened. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Besides…aren’t you happy?”

Falerin’s eyes widened as fear rose up in his chest. He shook his head as best he could, struggling to get away. “Astarion…Astarion, no. Please…” Tears leaked from his eyes as Astarion’s gaze didn’t waver. “Please, don’t.”

“My perfect consort, my darling love…”

“Astarion, please!”

“…you simply must be happy.”

“No!” But it was too late. The compulsion was taking hold, and Falerin felt his anger, his hurt, melt into sweet compliance. There was one final flash of fury on his face before it went blank. He stared up at Astarion for a moment, and a smile suddenly forced itself onto the half-drow’s face.

“Of course I’m happy,” he said. “I’m with you.” He leaned up to give Astarion a kiss. “Aeterna amantes.”

“There’s my little love,” Astarion crooned, finally letting go of Falerin’s face. “Now, like I said. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Like so many galas, this was a peak affair of decadence and luxury. There were a few whispers of what a shame it was that tiefling bard was nowhere to be found, but that was no matter, really. After all, everyone’s eyes were on the lord’s consort.

How lucky he was, to be so happy.

Casual Banter Masterpost

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #astarion #AU #This is not the Fal/Astarion endgame but I loaded my ascended save and had feelings so here we are #Worst AU possible #angst #It's not often I do angst but this was gnawing at me

[yeetlegay]

AU where Presumed Straight Boy™️ Porsche is roomies with Presumed Bossy Trust Fund Baby™️ Kinn

This was supposed to be like three sentences and then I got carried away so now it’s like an extremely sloppy not-quite-fic that I should probably just dump in a Google doc and write up properly, but instead I’m presenting it like tumblr is a potluck and I brought a casserole made out of whatever’s in my fridge. 🤲 (Also this is all @iffervescent ’s fault for coming up with the idea for a fic about comphet Porsche doing one of those “straight guy bottoms for the first time” pornos, at which point I lost my mcfucking mind.)

Porsche is having lots of fun, casual hook-ups but lately girls can’t seem to get enough of his ass for some reason. And it’s not that he’s not game to try, he just doesn’t get what the big deal is bc he always assumed anal was overhyped. And anyway some part of him feels weird about having that much focus on him and his body. He likes making girls get off and being useful and his own pleasure is almost secondary to the rush and satisfaction of making someone else feel good.

But this is the third time in a month that a girl’s asked—actually more like begged—to peg him, and he’s a people pleaser, okay? If ass play is such a turn-on for so many girls, he should at least give it a fair shot.

So he does, and…well. It’s sort of a bust. The girl isn’t doing anything wrong, it’s all him. He clenches up tight as a clam as soon as the spotlight is on him, can’t relax or bear down or take deep breaths or anything. He doesn’t even really like getting blowjobs, always too distracted wondering what the girl is getting out of it, feeling bad that he’s letting her do all the work for what seems to him like very little reward.

Ass stuff is all those feelings plus more complicated ones, discomfort and confusion and a faint, twisting sense of shame that he knows is bullshit but can’t quite shake. And nice as the girl is, she’s still a stranger, and it’s still just a hook-up, and patience has a limit. So after it becomes painfully clear Porsche isn’t up for what she’s after, she gives up and lets him fuck her quick and matter-of-fact, and after that night she doesn’t text him again.

Porsche tries not to take it personally or be too bummed by what a tight-ass he apparently is. But one night a few weeks later, he’s snuck maybe one or two more drinks than he should’ve at his bartending shift, and Yok has to call his #RichKidsofInstagram roomie Kinn to come pick him up. Kinn does, huffing bitchily the whole time as he practically carries Porsche from the bar to the car, then from the car to their apartment.

Porsche is a sloppy drunk. He knows this, and really he should’ve learned better by now, but he’s in a funk about his ass now and his filter was never good to begin with. So it’s probably inevitable that he ends up opening his mouth and letting some truly embarrassing shit come out of it. He tells Kinn all about the girls who want to plow him, how he’s happy to let them in theory but in practice he’s been a total disappointment so far. “I wish that thing in porn was real,” he slurs against Kinn’s shoulder as Kinn fumbles for his keys.

“What thing?” Kinn says, with the tone of someone already wishing he hadn’t asked.

“You know,” Porsche says nonsensically. “The thing. Where they have, like, a teacher. The whole oh no he’s an ass virgin, we’ll have to give him lessons.” He pitches his voice a little higher for dramatic effect, but Kinn is unimpressed.

“You watch porn about guys who are ass virgins?” Kinn twists the key in the lock and tugs Porsche inside.

“For educational purposes,” Porsche says, waving the question away with one hand as he stumbles behind Kinn into the living room. “You’re missing the point.”

“Which is?” Kinn shoves lightly at his shoulders, but Porsche’s balance is so pitiful, he keels back onto the couch with a loud oof, landing on one of Kinn’s plush, overpriced throw pillows.

“I want, like, a teacher. To teach me about ass stuff. Oh!” Porsche tries to figure out how to raise his head from the very comfortable pillow, but it’s too hard to do that and talk at the same time, so he picks talking. “Not a teacher. A coach. You know, like they have on that show The Voice. Just somebody helping me with my—I don’t know, routine or whatever. And then I go out and try it with somebody every week.”

“Does that mean you can get voted off?” Kinn’s voice is swimming somewhere overhead. Somebody’s unbuttoning Porsche’s shirt, which is fine because he’s sweating.

“Don’t try being funny,” Porsche warns him. “That’s my job. You buy the throw pillows, I tell the jokes. If you say anything funny, I’ll throw up all over you.”

“I’ll need to buy more throw pillows after this,” Kinn says grimly. “You smell like the inside of a vodka bottle.”

Porsche barely hears him. He’s thinking about that pretty girl from a few weeks ago, how disappointed she must’ve been that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He feels ridiculous, a little pathetic even. It’s just his ass, for fuck’s sake. It can’t be that hard. Gay guys do it all the time—

“Wait!” Porsche’s eyes snap open. Two blurry, criminally good-looking Kinns sway in front of him. “I need a gay guy,” Porsche announces to him.

“For what exactly?” Kinn scoops his hands under Porsche’s shoulders, lifting him off the couch until he’s sitting up enough to slide the shirt off his arms.

Porsche lets him do all the work, too concentrated on keeping his head up. “Gay guys know lots about anal. I could find one and make him my coach.”

“You know, it’s not just gay guys who do anal,” Kinn says, struggling with one of Porsche’s arms.

“Well, duh.” Porsche tries rolling his eyes, but it immediately makes his stomach roll too, so he stops. “I’m trying to do anal, and I’m not gay. But they’re supposed to be, like, experts, you know? Like the OG connoisseurs of butt stuff through the centuries. If I’m gonna do it, I wanna learn from the masters.”

Kinn finally gets Porsche’s arm free of the uncooperative sleeve. “So you’re just planning on propositioning some random gay guy to be your ass play coach?”

Porsche frowns. “Well, no, I guess not. It’d have to be someone I know. Maybe I won’t freeze up if it’s a friend with me instead of a hook-up.” He groans and drops his head. “But I don’t know any gay guys!”

Kinn’s hands go still, even though Porsche’s remaining sleeve is still caught around his elbow. There’s a long pause. “Porsche,” Kinn says finally, sounding like he’s already regretting what he’s about to say. “You know I’m gay, right?”

The words take a few seconds to register, and when they do they don’t make any sense. Porsche lifts his head, bleary-eyed. “Huh?”

“I’m gay,” Kinn repeats slowly.

Gay. Kinn. Gay Kinn. Kinn gay. Kinn? Gay?

Porsche blinks at him. “I told you not to say anything funny,” he says.

And then he does, in fact, throw up all over him.

***

In Kinn’s defense, he hadn’t actually intended to offer lessons in anal to the idiotic roommate he’s been pining after for six months.

He’s sure Porsche won’t remember much the next morning—not the unpleasant ordeal of cleaning the vomit off both of them, or giving Porsche a strictly clinical sponge bath, or Porsche’s drunken over-sharing about his tight asshole and what a burden it is for him.

By the time he’s gotten Porsche clean and in bed, Kinn is hanging onto sanity by a thread. The only thing that could be worse than remembering the whole night would be Porsche remembering it too.

So of course he does.

And of course he’s nowhere near as embarrassed as Kinn is about the whole thing, aside from apologizing for throwing up on him. He slumps down at the little table in their kitchen the next morning, inhaling a cup of coffee and watching Kinn make an omelette. And within five minutes, he’s steamrolled right over any lingering awkwardness and is asking Kinn to be his “ass coach.”

Kinn says no obviously. That it’s a stupid idea, they’re roommates, Porsche can deal with this on his own—

“But I’ve tried that!” Porsche interjects.

“Tried what?”

“Dealing with it on my own.”

At this, Kinn swallows loudly and keeps his voice carefully neutral. “As in—”

“You know, fingering myself, that sort of stuff.” Porsche downs the last of his coffee. “After the fiasco with that girl, I figured I should practice solo until I was better at it. I thought about getting a few toys to see if that would help but they’re kind of pricey and—”

Kinn is, at this point, having an out-of-body experience. Just the idea, the knowledge, that sometime—anytime—in the past couple of weeks Porsche was in his room trying to work a finger up his own ass, makes Kinn’s brain stutter to a screeching halt. He’s staring unseeing at the kitchen cupboard, picturing it, trying not to picture it, having crisis upon crisis upon crisis in the span of about four seconds. All while Porsche is still talking, telling him about the articles he read and the porn he watched and how really, he thinks maybe he should just walk into a gay bar and throw himself at anyone who looks capable and not murder-y.

Kinn is only human, and very, deeply, stupendously gay, and the hot roommate he’s in love with is offering himself—specifically his ass—on a silver platter to any man who’s willing.

Really, it’s only a matter of time before Kinn gives in and says, numbly, disbelievingly, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Porsche asks.

“I’ll be your—” Kinn swallows. Looks down at his hopelessly burnt omelette. Looks up at the ceiling, resigned and desperately turned on. “I’ll be your…ass coach.”

And the many, many, many weeks of education begin…

….but I’m not writing full-fledged smut on a tumblr post lol, I have to draw the very shaky line somewhere. I really should just make this a proper fic but I’m already drowning in WIPs so if I do end up fleshing this out into a proper Thing, it’ll be a while.

Anyway, the point is: I am Thinking™️ about Porsche discovering the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of prostate orgasms.

#tl;dr ​Kinn is Porsche’s Jennifer Hudson #kinnporsche #my fic #<- technically I guess? #ass coach wip

[lurkingshan]

Step by Step Episode 11 (OF DOOM)

Warning: I really, really did not like this episode. If you’re trying to keep positive vibes you should scroll on by, friends! 

Welp. I told a few friends last week that my biggest disappointment would be if, after missing the mark on the emotional payoff of the slow burn and speed running the relationship, the show chose to break them up and do a time jump rather than staying with them in the present time and working through the conflicts they set up. And here we are! I wish I’d been wrong about where this was heading. Shouts to @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm for holding me down while this show fell apart on me, I’ve been all in a tizzy about it, because I really loved it for awhile there.

This episode, yet again, felt like a disjointed mess. After last week’s cliffhanger, the idea of Pat resigning to get away from the predatory office gossip fell away within a few quick scenes. Instead the tension disappeared as the plot brought them into a bubble with only their most supportive colleagues and we swerved into a retread of the Put nonsense and a new plot about Jeng and Pat fighting to save the digital marketing team via the power of Put’s quasi-celebrity and Instagram likes. Or something. I honestly couldn’t tell you the details of what they were trying to accomplish, I was too distracted by my incredulity to pay close attention to this very sudden fake problem that they were obviously going to conquer (that, my friends, is what we call conflict with no stakes). Meanwhile, the show suddenly wants me to care about Jaab and Jen again - enough to devote a big portion of the penultimate episode’s runtime to them, what a choice - after doing fuck all with that plot for six weeks. It’s a no from me. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because soon enough we’re time skipping again! After resolving the work challenge subplot we speed past another three months of Pat and Jeng’s relationship without addressing any of their issues, and I guess I’m supposed to be at peace with being a full nine months into their relationship with no onscreen emotional advancement? But I gotta be honest, y’all. I am not. You just don’t do this with a slow burn romance narrative. You can’t spend 80% of your runtime building to something that you have no intention of paying off, and no amount of thinking about what else this show is trying to say is going to convince me they did proper justice to the relationship. I already broke down why I didn’t think the episode 10 culmination got us there, and nothing that happened in this episode changed my opinion.

And all of this is leading to yet another time jump - two entire years this time - after the big reveal that Jeng doesn’t believe in Pat at all and literally bought his success, Evil Daddy knew it all along and waited for a choice moment to deploy the info for maximum damage while twirling his villain mustache, and Pat is finally quitting for real and dumping Jeng for good measure.

And ya know what? GOOD FOR PAT. I was completely on his side in this decision. If there’s one bright spot in this episode (other than Chot, always Chot) it’s Pat getting himself together enough to realize he deserves better than the bullshit he’s been getting from Put and Jeng and walking on out. So Jeng and Pat are now broken up, but I never got invested in their relationship in the first place, because we barely saw it, let alone got the chance to live in and feel it. I wasn’t even upset while watching this breakup scene - it left me emotionally indifferent. Which is maybe the worst thing I can say about a dramatic climax in a story.

I guess next week we’ll meet Jeng and Pat again two years in the future and get some kind of happy ending. I’m gonna stick around for the finale and cross my fingers that we get all the epilogue fluff we have definitely earned, but sadly, this show has lost me.

#step by step #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[aelysblue]

Candy : All the same, what a day. Can you imagine if... I mean, if... We hadn't made it?

Castiel : I tried not to think about it too much. Otherwise I would have collapsed on the spot.

Castiel : Leaving for one of the happiest moments of my life, and never coming back... But not for the right reasons.

Castiel : My only consolation would have been to end up by your side.

Castiel : It's already enormous. But to think of my parents' pain...

Candy : (I know I started the subject, but I wasn't thinking of anything so dramatic...)

Castiel : It would have been even worse because I'm an only child.

Candy : (I get the impression that he's really looking at his grieving parents. Let's change the subject...)

Candy : Don't think about it ! We're here by the fire, we'll be fine.

Candy : But otherwise, did you ever actually miss it ? Wouldn't you have loved to have brothers and sisters ?

Castiel : No more than that, in truth. It forced me to go and build outside, and that was just as well.

Castiel : With my parents not often at home...

Candy : Um... It's true that we don't often talk about them, but... Did you miss them a lot ?

Castiel : Can't believe everything the media say...

Castiel : I know it plays right into the storytelling of the lonely romantic rocker with a wound...

Castiel : But if we don't talk about it often, it's just because I don't have anything more to say than, "It was fine."

Castiel : Are there occasions when I wish they were both there ? Of course there are.

Castiel : You see, it's silly, but the day I managed to play my first song on guitar, I would have liked to show them.

Candy : It's not stupid, it's normal. All children want their parents to be proud of them.

Castiel : Yes, undoubtedly... But anyway, apart from little moments like that, don't get me wrong, I had a happy childhood.

Castiel : We didn't always see each other during the year, but we had some great holidays, for example.

Castiel : And then, they trusted me to leave me alone at such a young age. That too built me up.

Castiel : As a result, I've never been afraid to believe in my projects, or to try things out.

Candy : It's true that when I first met you, you stood out for your self-confidence... For worse and better !

Castiel : I don't know what you're talking about... But seriously, it was so cool, really.

Castiel : It allowed me to be the only teenager my age to see so many crazy concerts ! It was crazy.

Castiel : It also gave me time to work on my music and put together my first bands.

Castiel : No, really, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't want to change very much !

Castiel : Well, maybe one thing... But it has nothing to do with my family... Well, with my family at the time...

Candy : I'm having trouble following you...

Castiel : What I was trying to say was that my only regret was letting you go at the end of high school.

Candy : Oh, that's cute. Me too you know, but I think we both had experiences to live through...

Candy : ...To find each other better !

(He returned my smile and we kissed tenderly.)

#my candy love #my candy love castiel #mcl #mcl castiel #mcl love life #amour sucré

[weasleywizardpranks]

Bad Batch Rant

My feelings are going through it. I want to love whatever they do with the ending but my hopes are not high. I don’t hate this season or anything but I find myself asking “why?” A lot. There’s just this multitude of reasons I think and now I’m anxiously waiting for the end to just get it over with.

1.Echo. I get it, he left with Rex. Fine. But the man is nonexistent at this point. It’s the final season and I swear we’ve had more of the side characters than we have of him. Obviously he’s going to be showing up so here’s to hoping he’s not sidelined in them.

2. Tech. Unpopular opinion, I do not want CX-2 or whatever his name is to be tech at this point. I personally just don’t believe it could be done well enough for me to enjoy it, unless it’s still tragic. Aka we don’t get him back. But also, I do not want to go through such a similar story we had with crosshair again for a bad batcher (and Echo’s story too tbh). Don’t get me wrong, I adore Tech and I miss him with the group. But I don’t have a good enough reason to bring him back outside of my adoration for him at this point. I personally don’t ship him and Phee (please don’t misunderstand this as me disliking Phee. I love her and I’m kinda shocked we haven’t seen more of her this season considering they’re on Pabu because of her like?? Omega and Phee bonding time when?) so for me that makes no difference and it didn’t add anything to the story for me. And yes he and his brothers deserve a happy ending, but for me his sacrifice was done so damn well. It was beautifully tragic and I’d hate to lose it.

3. We’ve got 3 episodes left and so many unanswered questions. Are we ever going to find out anything about Cody? Wolff? The zillo beast? Will they be answered? I’m thinking no tbh. Although to me some of this season has felt a little rushed so who knows.

I’m honestly hoping CX-2 is Cody, because it would honestly feel kind of full circle? That Rex and Cody pain. He basically introduced the bad batch. So yknow, he could bring Rex and the boys back together again. I’m probably wrong but that’s fine.

Uh if you read any of this thank you and sorry for it being a mess and I’d be interested to hear others thoughts. I just needed to get this out since I’ve got like no-one to talk to about this show. Anyway, Whatever happens, happens. Maybe we’ll get a Rex and Co. Show?? I just want Omega to live happily.

#the bad batch #tbb omega #tbb season 3

[sizzleissues]

Thoughts on conformation and recreation

Going to put heavy spoilers and theory stuff under a cut but just starting off saying I liked it. I do feel negative about certain aspects but I’m 90% certain that was intended. We’re supposed to be going ‘wait a minute’ about this ending.

The action was amazing and the animation gorgeous in parts. I really like BugNoire’s design.

Overall it didn’t disappoint me which I feel is the only thing and ending shouldn’t do. You can happy, mad, sad etc. about an ending but those emotions are most of the time intentional. But if it comes with disappointment then something has gone wrong. (Excluding minor stuff)

Anyway time to get specific

I love the mystery we still have with all that happened. I think it’s concluded what needed to end and left us with questions to answer in the following two seasons.

Are we supposed to think this was a ‘good/happy’ ending?

What’s up with Gimmi?

Will Marinette tell Adrien/ will Adrien find out and how will it impact both of them?

Is it Emilie or Amelie?

Who the heck visited Lila at the end?

What’s going to happen next?

Those are the questions I see people asking and trying to answer. None of those questions feel unanswerable and it’s plenty of fodder for speculation and fics in the coming year as we wait for season 6. I do want to know whether the special is pre or post season 5 because that will definitely affect things. I can’t see the reveal happening in a special but it’s certainly something to think about.

I think what made the finale special is the many layers it has, things that at first viewing you might miss. For example I saw someone in the last hour point out Marinette quite literally had a nightmare about what would happen if she reacted harshly (aka killed that motherfucker gabe) towards Monarch. Even though Marinette is shown to be an empathetic character and would probably try to talk it out anyway if she saw victory through it, that nightmare definitely pushed her to be more trusting.

In a way it worked. I believe that Gabriel’s wish was to trade his life for Nathalie’s and be able to join Emile. Marinette’s passion sort of proved to him that there were people who cared about Adrien still around even though he’d run out of time by the time he’d realised that neither Emile or Adrien wanted this.

He’s still a villain, he died a villain but that minor change of heart (as he said to Gimmi for his desire to simply read his heart) ensured Adrien would have Nathalie as a parental figure, maybe even bringing Amelie over to take more active care in her nephew and the freedom to be with Marinette, a girl who proved in Gabriel’s last moments that she would love Adrien no matter what. He’s still a villain in that his narcism demanded Marinette not to reveal the truth, remade the world to praise him for his sacrifice and probably a whole bunch of other issues that will unravel in season 6.

(In terms of him and Emile ascending, I don’t believe Gabriel got to go to ‘heaven’ or dragged Emile down to ‘hell’. He just got to be with her and got to have a peaceful death where they can be buried side by side. He isn’t getting an eternal reward for this.)

((If turns out to be Emile alive we’ll just have to see))

Whatever happened, there is obviously something wrong with this new world. It goes against all the motifs set up in previous episodes. I agree with the consensus that we are not supposed to feel entirely good about this ending. Uneasy for the future, nervous for Adrienette, curious about how it’ll unfold.

My feelings about the finale will probably change with season 6 coming out.

(Istg if when Lila-moth is taken down it’s not both Adrien and Marinette I will scream. Let them defeat her together. I get why they couldn’t be together for Gabriel, Adrien would still freak (especially with the nightmares) and he’s still under Gabriel’s control. I’d hoped they’d make it work but I think all the previous reveals/endings proved they couldn’t both take him down. Adrien would be made too fragile and Gabriel is difficult to reason with. I think the only thing that made him a little bit more able to listen to reason was because he was dying so the wish would have had to fix that too etc.)

#miraculous ladybug #ml recreation #recreation spoilers

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Author: norahastuff

Artist: Logan

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 27000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Canon compliant (more or less) Takes place during season 4 and 5 Grace Healing Dreamwalking Late night conversations A whole lot of beach talk

Posting Date: October 6, 2023

Summary: It's the end of the world, and neither Dean nor Castiel is feeling particularly fine. But while the world is still spinning, they have to find a way to keep living in it. The Apocalypse may not seem like the best time to forge a bond, but if some small measure of happiness can be found amidst all the pain and uncertainty that surrounds them, that can only be a good thing. And maybe sometimes good things do happen.

Excerpt: Dean seemed remarkably at ease, the relaxed lines of his body oddly distracting sprawled across the chair. “You sound like you disagree.” Castiel shrugged. “Sam knows you better than I do.” “In some ways. Come on, Cas, let’s not pretend. You get me.” His tone was light, but Castiel knew he was serious. He was aware he connected with Dean on a level that he couldn’t quite make sense of. Yes, Dean understood him, but he understood Dean too. While he’d been hesitant before to contradict Sam on his brother’s deepest desires, Dean had asked. Castiel met his gaze. “That life… It’s what you think you should want.” “Yeah,” Dean said, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands behind his head. “That’s where I landed with that whole thing too. Sam’s not wrong, if things were different, Lisa and I… maybe we could make it work. But they’re not. Even if we save the world, I’ll still be me. And I mean, I don’t actually know her all that well, anyway. We might end up hating each other if we try to give it a go for real.” Dean shrugged. “White picket fences sound good in theory, but really, I don’t think I’m the Mr. Suburbia type. Hawaii and Springsteen, though? That sounds like my kinda thing.” “I thought you didn’t like to fly?”  Dean waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take a bucket of Valium. Or we can charter a yacht. I’ve always wanted to go on a yacht.” “Well, my most recent experience on a boat wasn’t particularly enjoyable.” Since he was exiled from Heaven, he hadn’t known where he was going to wind up when he’d activated the banishing sigil he’d carved into his chest. A shrimping boat off the coast of Delacroix wouldn’t have been his first guess. “Big difference between fishing trawlers and luxury yachts, buddy. Come on, me, you... maybe Sam. He’s not much of a beach guy, but we’ll give it a shot. Might have to max out a few credit cards to make it work, but fuck it, right?” Dean’s eyes sparkled from something more than the alcohol. There was a vibrancy, something unquantifiable Castiel couldn’t put a name to. He was so emphatically alive, and Castiel didn’t care anymore whether they won or lost. Everything he had done had been worth it. Every additional second that Dean’s light burned in this godforsaken universe made it worth it.  Dean had balked when Castiel had compared him to Helen of Troy. Had claimed no one would ever go to war over him. Castiel had almost laughed at the absurdity. Helen may have summoned a nation to arms, but Dean could bring this universe to his knees if he tried. Castiel was suddenly glad he’d never had any real power to speak of. He wasn’t sure how far he’d go in service of protecting Dean, of preserving his happiness if he had the ability. He’d burn it all down if he had to.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2023 #fic preview #2023 promo #deancas #destiel

[randomshit657]

I’m going to be talking about OCD and Intrusive thoughts, and very briefly religious trauma. And maybe slight disordered eating. If that will bother you please skip.

Okay so I know that many people aren’t going to see this but if even one person sees this and maybe learns something I’ll be happy.

Okay so I have OCD, and that’s kind of what I want to talk about. I promise you I’m not trauma dumping just listen for a moment.

I’ve known I had OCD since I was in 4th grade but it never really felt like I actually had it because of all the stereotypes surrounding it.

I never needed to keep everything perfectly clean or check things multiple times or any of that. It took me years to actually accept I had it because of these stereotypes. Instead I just felt crazy or wrong or bad, and I don’t want anyone to feel that.

I thought that mine wasn’t that severe so it didn’t mean anything. Trust me it does. If you’ve been diagnosed or think you have it, I would highly recommend getting therapy because trust me you don’t want it to get bad.

Anyway I’m here to talk about some things about OCD. Starting with the intrusive thoughts.

I don’t think the intrusive thoughts that come with OCD are really discussed enough when in reality they are the reasons for the compulsions.

First things first intrusive thoughts aren’t “I want to dye my hair at 3 am.” That’s an impulsive thought there a huge difference, and I’m not trying to attack you for using intrusive thoughts in that context especially if you didn’t know the difference, but it’s important you know the difference and you the terms in the proper context.

And I say this because if people start believing intrusive thoughts are things you actually want to do but just do impulsively it’s going to cause a huge problem especially for people with OCD.

If you have OCD your intrusive thoughts can be terrible, awful things. That they don’t want to do. Let me repeat that people with OCD don’t want to do their intrusive thoughts hence the compulsions because their brain convinces them that whatever they do will stop the thoughts.

But those thoughts are just something impulsive you want to do they are a lot of the time truly disturbing things. Sometimes these thoughts will get so bad people with lock themselves in their houses because they are scared of hurting someone. When I’m actuality these people are the least likely to actually act on these thoughts.

Now let’s get onto compulsions. When most people think of compulsions they think of hand washing or having to do something a certain amount of times but we’ll that can be the case from some people those aren’t the only types of compulsions.

For example reassurance seeking can be a compulsion. Asking your friends things like “Am I a bad person?” Or “Do you still love me?” or whatever your intrusive thoughts are telling you.

I’m going to explain a few of mine because I would say mine aren’t as well known. For instance waking up every morning and the first thing I have to think being “Today is the day the world will end.” Because I was always told god would destroy it when I least expected it so now if I don’t repeat it every morning I’m on edge all day.

Or not being able to stomach anything that isn’t labeled gluten free or made by me, I also cant eat unless I know I can go home after on the off chance some gluten made it’s way into it and I get sick.

The last one I’m going to mention is being overly nice to everyone at school. I would have such vivid thoughts about someone hurting people at school that even if this person was a huge jerk I would be nice to them or go out of my way to complement them because that would somehow fix thing.

The point is compulsions come in all shapes and forms and OCD is rarely logical, but it doesn’t change the fact that it feels logical. Just because you don’t fit a the stereotype doesn’t mean you don’t have it. It’s important to know that because with everything else your probably going through with this disorder you don’t need denial on your plate aswell.

It’s important to try and get help for this disorder because honestly it can be scary, and can cause a hole pile of other issues. But if you can’t here are some pointers.

1. Do your best to not participate in the compulsions. Now this won’t be easy at all and that doesn’t mean they’ll go away but they’ll be easier to manage. Trust me. I was forced to break one from sheer in ability of not being able to do it and it sucked but I was happier than I had been in months after I got through that.

2. Remember the intrusive thoughts aren’t you, and tell your brain that to.

3. I know it sounds silly and might not help everyone it i know for me kind of talking to my brain like a child works. Like “I know what you are feeling is very real but why don’t we try watching tv for a bit and see if you still want to do it then. Okay?” And then just try and distract yourself. It’s not fool proof but you know.

4. Just remember you’re stronger than you think. I know it’s hard and some days are really going to suck. But as hard as it is you can work through it. It won’t go away but it will become easier.

Anyway that’s it. I know this is a little rambely but I hope it gets the point across.

#actually ocd #ocd #mental health #mental illness #intrusive thoughts #you’ll be okay #important info #obsessive compulsive disorder

[galactic-magick]

Heyy, I just saw you're accepting requests, and I was so happy about that!!

If u want, can you pls do some headcanons/fic about Peter (001) thinking the reader is dead, and them found out they are not?

Thnk u a lot, and it's okay if u don't want to do that! I just really love your writing BTW 💖💖💖

Thank you so much for the support I’m glad you like my writing!!

Combining this request with this similar one from an anon: "hi! could you write angsty hcs for 001 like something happens to his s/o like he loses them (either permanently or temporarily) or something and how he reacts to it ?? whether or not it has a good ending is up to you! also feel free to ignore if you're not comfortable w writing this, thank you anyways!"

Want to make a Stranger Things request? Read this!

losing you was something he never thought he'd allow to happen, but it was out of his control

and for someone who desires to control the world and make it how he wants it to be, that's pretty rough

you worked at the lab with him, you didn’t have powers but you helped with the experiments and the science side of everything, as well as being a friendly face for all the kids

you were the only staff member besides Dr. Brenner that knew his true identity, both that he was the original 001 and that he was Henry Creel, due to you being so close and developing a relationship

so when one of the experiments goes wrong and you die as a result, it doesn’t matter that his powers are suppressed, he’s determined to avenge you

he never knew why Dr. Brenner always seemed to use you as a guinea pig, testing new technology and drugs to make sure it would be safe for the kids, but there was never a guarantee that it would be safe for you

he watched everything happen, watched you pass out and get dragged away

he ran after you of course, but was quickly put in check by the electric shocks Dr. Brenner liked to use on him whenever he tried to leave his place

he retaliated as much as he possibly could, but he knew there was only so much he could do while his powers were suppressed

all he had then was harsh words, screaming at all the scientists for how careless they were

if only he could have his powers back, maybe he could cheat death and somehow bring you back to life, or just burn this place to the ground

one thing this man is though is incredibly patient

he’ll wait as long as it takes if it means getting a satisfying revenge

so he puts a plan into action, befriending Eleven a little sooner and manipulating her into taking out his inhibitor chip thing

but one thing didn’t go according to plan

while on his murderous rampage, he runs into Dr. Brenner and allows him to beg for his life before Peter kills him

“Please! Please! Just wait-- I know where Y/N is!”

Peter stops in his tracks, hearing your name being the only thing that could snap him out of his headspace

“They’re dead. You killed them!” he shouts.

“No, they’re not dead! I kept them alive in case I ever needed them as leverage to control you-- but clearly you’re already out of control,” Dr. Brenner explains. “Please, just spare me and Eleven, we’ll never bother you with any of our experiments ever again and you can go out into the world and live whatever life you want,”

Peter lifts Dr. Brenner into the air and pushes him against the wall with his powers, “Tell me where they are and I might spare you,”

he tells him about the secret room on the top floor you’ve been kept in, and Peter swiftly drops him and bolts up all the flights of stairs, crushing anything in his way

the door is well hidden, but he still finds it easily and destroys all the locks in nearly one motion

he finds you sitting in a chair and gazing out a window, scattered with a few cracks from when you’ve tried to break out, to no avail, as well as some tally marks on the walls trying to keep track of the days

no words are needed as you run into each other’s arms

you take a moment to look at him, all that messy hair and blood

you don’t ask what happened for now, you’re just glad he found you

he holds you tighter, almost to the point you can’t breathe

“I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead,” he mumbles, a single tear falling down his face

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you assure him.

#stranger things x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard x reader #001 #peter ballard #stranger things

[sofiasjornal]

House of Flame and Shadow 🌙 Review

Let me just say that I absolutely loved 90% of the book, it was perfect in many, ways. But that ending… it kinda spoiled the book for me…

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and a half

Let’s start with that! I felt the built-up to the battle with the Asteri was bigger and more interesting than the battle itself. It ended way too quickly and too easily. The Asteri really didn’t put up that much of a fight. Two books leading up to this moment and then it just that? I was disappointed, not gonna lie. The battle needed more momentum and more magnitude, it felt really small. 

I also saw some comments about the crossover, of people disappointed that it was just Nesta and Azriel, and didn’t get a chance to see Feyre or Nyx, or even Mor. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to see them too, but the crossover was not a big reunion of all the characters. The purpose of the crossover was to find the connection with the trove and the starlight bloodline, the connection between the blades, and for that, only Nesta and Azriel are necessary. Maybe a novella would be different, but I think the crossover was done right, even in the bonus chapters (also, Sarah can you please stop with the different versions of the books and different chapters spread god knows where?! Thank you!)

As you may know, Bryce lost some of my affection during this book, her insensitive remarks to Hunt pissed me off so much. And even to Lidia, saying her kids are baggage, honestly, I don’t know how Lidia didn’t freak out on her. I get that she’s young and has the world on her shoulders, but it doesn’t feel like enough of an excuse. And Hunt was never a personal favorite of mine (I still liked him enough, though) so if this is really the last book where they are the main couple I don’t really mind it! Lidia and Ruhn carried the book anyway 😍 and I feel like SJM explored Bryce and Hunt’s relationship enough. The next one would definitely benefit from a different and fresh perspective. 

Also, I was never a fan of the whole Danika thing. I understand her importance to Bryce and to the story but how it was built made me really dislike her for some reason. I know she was brave and cared for Bryce deeply, and was willing to sacrifice (and did in the end) a lot for the cause. But she never sat right with me. And that whole bonus chapter where she just gets Bryce drunk (I know, I know, Bryce didn’t need any help, I know) it just made things worse. It was obvious she had a plan since the beginning and Bryce just went along because she cared deeply for her friend. And while I don’t doubt Danika’s affection and friendship with Bryce, at some point you have to wonder how much was real when Danika was hiding so much vital information, and not only about her cause, but about herself.

The rest of the book I liked just fine. Celestina should have died, and this is the hill I’m dying on. She deserved it. And she had no redemption at all to earn the mercy Bryce got her. The autumn king's death was spectacular! And Morven’s too! How I laughed, I was never that happy with characters dying. AND SABINE! This book had many, many happy moments for me 😂 I only felt bad about the Prime, he deserved a more dignified death than what he got and the way Sabine killed him… she deserved all that she got. And Sigrid? That little bitch! I know she’s not in control, she’s a freshly made reaper, probably still adjusting, running on instinct, but I mean… siding with Sabine? SABINE?! Ithan will be one hell of a prime, I just know it!

There were a few surprises that got me screaming. I think Lidia’s kids connect her with the spring court because of the fertility rite (but we’ll get to that!) and Hypaxja as the head of Flame and Shadow! I think the true wonders of Hypaxia’s power are still to be shown and I’m all for it! 

Now, I’m assuming the next book will be House of Many Waters, if SJM is following the house names. Here I think Tharion could definitely play a bigger role! HOFAS spent a lot of time setting him up, but also Hypaxia (who became the head of flame and shadow! and is also Lidia’s sister!) and Ithan! If Tharion and Hypaxia's friendship were to grow into something deeper, and Tharion somehow became the head of Many Waters, imagine the power couple!

But I have so many questions about this book and its connection to the others and other series! So many that I think maybe it’s better to put them in another post and organize them there 😅 otherwise this will never end!

#books #sarah j maas #crescent city #acotar #book review #house of flame and shadow

[angelst4re]

threat you better part 3 rn ash im begging

of course!! <33

Treat You Better (part 3)- Jamie Campbell Bower x Milf!Reader

୨♡୧ summary: your new boyfriend moves in and discovers something in your wardrobe...

୨♡୧ warnings: smut! please don't read if you feel uncomfortable my love!

୨♡୧ note: i was listening to lana whilst writing this <3 also do you want a part 4?? i have a few ideas already and it will just be pure fluff!!

“Please, y/n, we can make it work! I promise I’ll start putting more effort-”

“Save it, Rob!” You shouted at your husband, stuffing his belongings into cardboard boxes, “I’ve been unhappy ever since Max was born and you haven’t even thought to say anything. You haven’t even slept in the same bed as me since then! I’m not giving you another chance. You’re lucky I even took you back after you cheated on me!” 

“Look, I’ll change, okay! If that’s what you want me to do!” 

You sigh, turning around to face the man. 

“What I want you to do… is to leave. Go to your parents’ house or something for now, we’ll discuss our divorce later.”

Your husband frowned, reaching into the wardrobe to pull out his suitcase he took on his business trip and began to fill it with his clothes. 

—————————♡—————————

“Jamie, you don’t think we’re moving too fast, do you?” You ask, helping him bring boxes into the house from his car- of course he made you take the lighter ones, worrying that at two months pregnant heavy-lifting will be harmful. 

“You ask that whilst you’re pregnant with my child?” He chuckles, “I don’t think so. Unless you think maybe this is… wrong?” 

“No! Of course not! I think I’m just thinking about Rob again, I guess I’ll be doing that for a while.” You set the box down by the stairs, as it was labelled ‘bedroom’. 

“Of course you will, darling. You were married to him for… years! You can’t expect to have moved on in a matter of weeks.” Said Jamie as he put a bigger box beside yours, before taking your hand in his. “Whilst he has the kids, he’s happy, okay? He’s not lonely right now- and neither are you! There’s nothing to worry about.” He gave you a gentle smile, lifting your hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

He was right, it ended as well as it could have done. And you were finally happy with Jamie, so you couldn’t ask for anything more. 

As Jamie left to collect another box from his car, you stopped. You were already out of breath from walking up and down the steps by the porch. How many more boxes were there?

“Do the kids know?” Jamie asked, another cardboard box in his arms. 

“Know about what?” 

“About me, about us? The baby?” 

“Not yet, but they get back home tomorrow as they have school on Monday. I was thinking about telling them then, when you’re here.” You smile to yourself at the thought of no longer having to sneak around with Jamie, you could finally be together, live together, hold hands as you walked down the street. 

“I’m down for that,” he grinned, “they seem to love me anyway!” 

“They do,” you chuckle, “Leah doesn’t shut up about your tattoos, she thinks they’re ‘so cool!’, and she isn’t wrong…”

“Really? Well I’m glad to be down with the kids in this day and age! I thought my time had passed-”

“Jamie!”

“What?” 

“There’s a box here labelled ‘kids’, you haven’t-”

“Oh yeah! That’s full of some of mine and Sam’s old toys from when we were kids! I kept them for when I have kids of my own. Teddys and cars and… there’s so much in there. I thought maybe Max and Leah would like them- and the baby, when it’s old enough.” He spoke with such love and thoughtfulness you had almost shed a tear. You were truly in love with him. 

—————————♡—————————

After spending all morning and most of the afternoon sorting through the boxes downstairs, Jamie had now moved on to unpacking the boxes upstairs. You helped when you could, of course. Like right now, you were helping him put his clothes away. 

“Shit, we’ve run out of hangers- it’s okay there’s quite a few spares in Leah’s room!” You climb over the boxes to your bedroom door and walk down the hallway to Leah’s room in search of the clothes hangers. 

You looked in her closet, searched the floor and then found them sitting on her chair on top of the pile of clothes she had chosen to get rid of. You pick the coat hangers up and turn around, heading back to your room. 

“Y/n, darling, come here…” Jamie says just as you approach your bedroom door. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what he could have found. You opened the door, putting the coat hangers down on your drawers and turning to Jamie to see what was up. 

Shit. 

“What on earth could this be?” He smirked, holding up the wand vibrator you had hidden in your closet. Suddenly, you were aware of your heartbeat and your tummy was doing backflips, he was holding it up so smugly, knowing damn well what it was and what you use it for. “You poor girl, I thought that dildo of yours would be satisfying enough, but clearly not,” he begins to come closer to you, throwing the vibrator onto the bed as he places his hand on your cheek, “it’s okay now, love. You’ve got me. Although, I wouldn’t mind buying you a few more toys, make you put on a show for me.” 

The thought alone of using your toys in front of Jamie had your pussy clenching around nothing, sure he had used your dildo on you before but that was him, not you. 

You swallow hard before trailing his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss as his hands lowered to your waist, holding your body against his. The kiss soon became heated and full of need, as his hands began pulling your shorts down along with your panties before lifting you by the thighs, and placing you on the bed. You groaned as you felt the clothed bulge between his thighs pressing into your heat, you began to move your hips, trying to create any kind of friction on your clit. 

Jamie’s hands came down to your hips to hold them in place, chuckling into the skin of your neck as you whined in frustration. Suddenly, he had pushed himself off of you, giving you time to take your (his) oversized t-shirt off, revealing to him that you had not been wearing a bra all day. 

When he returned to the bed, he had the vibrator in his hand, pressing the buttons on it to see the different speeds and patterns. He gave you a devilish grin as he turned it off and spread your legs, allowing him to kneel between them. 

“You wanna show me how this works, darling?” He asks, handing it over to you. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod your head. 

You place it between your thighs, and press the button down to turn it on. You gasp at the sensation, you had forgotten how lovely this feels and it left Jamie practically drooling over the sight of you pleasuring yourself. You turned the speed up and let out a pornographic moan your eyes screwing shut as your breathing got heavier, the vibrations on your clit felt delicious. Jamie took in your facial expressions, feeling an urge to slip a finger into you to add to your pleasure. 

“Fuck.” You groaned, throwing your head back against the headboard as you moved the vibrator up and down a little, before pressing it into your clit again. You felt your cunt pulse around nothing, if only he would-

Suddenly, you felt as one of Jamie’s fingers prodded your entrance, teasing around the dripping hole before pushing the tip of his finger in and pulling it back out again. Your hips bucked as his entire finger slipped in and curled up into the delicious spot only he could find. 

“You’re fucking soaked, baby.” He said, almost in a growl. His eyes were blown out in lust as he pumped his finger in and out of you, “you close?” 

“Hmm.” You nodded your head, too afraid of screaming in pleasure if you opened your mouth to speak. All the pleasure was becoming too much too quick, and as you felt your muscles begin to relax before hitting your high- “Jamie!” Your head shot up as he had ripped the vibrator from your grasp, taking it away from your clit. 

“You just looked so wonderful like this, love. I thought why should I let you cum so soon when I can enjoy watching this for a little longer, what do you think?”

“Fuck you,” you whine, throwing your back in annoyance. 

“Cursing at me isn’t going to get you what you want, y’know. But since I’m in charge…”

He pressed it back against you, turning the setting up to the most intense speed. You had never gotten up to this one before, and now you see why. 

Jamie held you down just below your belly, and the pleasure ran through your entire body like electricity, sending a shiver down your spine. You were back to clenching around nothing, you thought about asking Jamie to get your dildo back out again, but your mind was too clouded by the pleasure to even form a sentence. 

As you were about to cum again, Jamie took the vibrator away again. You whimpered at the loss of the wonderful sensation, a single tear slipping from your eye. Jamie’s thumb wiped it off and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry, baby. That’s it now, okay? I’ll let you cum for me this time.” He tells you. 

Then you feel the vibrator come back to your heat, sliding it up and down, collecting your arousal onto it before turning it back on and switching the speed back to the highest intensity. 

“Shit, shit, shit…” you whimper, breathless. 

“Shh,” he hushes you, stroking your belly. “Cum for me, let go, darling.” 

And it only took you a matter of seconds for the pleasure to flood your body and brain again, your legs trembling as he sent you over the edge, keeping the vibrator pressed against you as he worked you through your high. 

When he finally switched the vibrator off, you were left gasping for breath, your thighs pressing against each other as Jamie went to the bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up with. 

“Holy shit,” you sigh, finally sitting up, “thank you.” 

“For what, darling?” He asks as he returns with the warm, damp cloth, spreading your legs again as he wipes down your messy cunt, being careful not to catch your sensitive nub. 

“I felt so… dirty when I would even just touch myself with my fingers when I was with him. I feel like I don’t have to hide or be so secretive with it now. It’s like you set me free!” You giggle, flopping back down onto your bed. 

Jamie also cleans up the vibrator a little before putting it back where he found it and throwing one of his tops over to you from the wardrobe. He smiled as he lay down beside you, letting out a big sigh as he slid an arm behind you and pulled you to his chest. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, my love.”

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