#the colours are magnificent I’m actually in love

[bonky-n-steeb]

in your arms i'm born again

— sub! bucky barnes x reader

summary || you want to find out exactly how many times is too many times for the super soldier.

warnings || sub!bucky. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected sex. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. orgasm control. bondage. edging. sex toys. blowjobs. handjobs. subspace. spit kink. choking. dacryphilia. corruption kink. praise kink. marking kink. pain kink. insecurities. reassurance. possessive reader. aftercare. petnames (baby boy). fluff. this is actually pretty sweet. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

bucky sees the gates of heaven

“What’s your colour?” You asked in a sultry voice. You licked your lips at the magnificent sight in front of you — Bucky Barnes, the most feared assassin in the world, was tied up beautifully on your bed. “Green. So fucking green.”

“Good boy.” You patted his thigh and he smiled sweetly at the compliment. “Are the ropes too tight?” You inquired again. “No. Just fine.” came back his short reply. His hands were tied to the headboard with a rope that he could easily break through. But he wasn’t supposed to — and that was where the real fun was.

The ropes were pulling his arms taut above his head and you couldn’t take your eyes off of his muscles flexing underneath his skin. This man was the prime example of an alpha male and yet he was beneath you, and that fact itself was sending you on a power trip.

You could see the excitement radiating out of Bucky’s body and you weren’t any less thrilled. You had discussed what you were going to do today for a long time and you were both happy that you were finally able to do this.

You bent down and pressed a sweet kiss to his pliant lips. The soft kiss soon turned into a passionate one and you rubbed your hands down the stretched planes of his body. You were straddling him and were only wearing Bucky’s favourite set of lingerie.

You could feel the soft pants coming from his open mouth as you began kissing down his neck. He was already getting sweet for you and he let out a little moan when you sucked on his sensitive spot. He smelled like his aftershave and something distinctly Bucky from this close.

Your lips slowly descended from his neck to his clavicle leaving behind small spots as the mark of your possession. You sat back up to see at the little link of bruises and something bloomed inside your chest and you smiled wickedly before pressing your fingers into those marks.

Bucky gave a choked off groan and you knew that little pressure was nothing as compared to what Bucky could take, but still it affected him and it made you smirk. You ran your fingers down his pecs and his breath hitched when you scratched your nails down his sensitive nipples.

“Do you like this?” You asked condescendingly. You knew he loved the pain very much as his cock was hard enough to pound nails. But him agreeing to the humiliation was more arousing for both of you. His reply was breathy, “Yes. Please please.”

He thrusted his hips up and you clicked your tongue. His legs were free for the very reason that you loved to see him writhe. You pressed your hands on his hips and pushed him down. “I know you’re excited baby. But you get some relief only when I want you to.”

“I’m sorry. I just…” he sounded worried as if you were going to punish him. “Awww, don’t worry baby boy. I’m going to forgive you this time, but I need you to pay attention after this. Okay?” He nodded eagerly and you blew him a kiss. You loved Bucky, and you loved dominating him, but at the same time, you couldn’t stand to see him sad.

There was this protective instinct within you that screamed to take care of him. He had gone through horrible things he absolutely didn’t deserve, and you just wanted to create a place where he would feel safe and most importantly loved.

Even when you did punish him, it was usually for his own good and you made sure that he enjoyed it too. Earlier in your relationship, Bucky had been hesitant to use the safe words. He didn’t want to disappoint you. But after a long talk, you had made it plenty clear that you wouldn’t be disappointed if he ever used his safe word.

You began pressing kisses down his abs and trailed low towards his thighs. He whined when he realised that you weren’t paying attention to his throbbing organ, and rather everywhere else. You cooed at his pitiful whines, the sounds going straight to your core.

“What do you need baby?” You asked innocently. “I.. I need you to touch me.” His raspy voice was like music to your ears. “That’s all? I am touching you, ain’t I?” It was nice to see him flustered. Bucky didn’t have any qualms about cursing, and yet he became so shy sometimes that it was endearing to watch.

“Please. Please touch my cock.” His cock looked as if he was hurting and you nodded in understanding. “All you had to do was ask baby.” He visibly calmed down as you took his hard length in your hand and started pumping.

Bucky looked on with rapture as you bent low and kissed the head of his cock. You maintained eye contact with him as kitten licked over his head and he groaned when he saw your tongue licking up his precum. His hands twisted in their binds when you finally took his tip in your hot mouth.

You laved your tongue over his drooling slit as you sucked on his head. Your lips stretched on his thick cock as you took him deeper. Your saliva had started collecting in the corner of your mouth and you shamelessly drooled as you sucked him off.

You panted as pulled back and licked your lips in a deliberated show. “You know you can cum anytime you want, right?” This was what today was going to be about. You knew Bucky had nearly no refractory period and at the same time he was very sensitive, so you wanted to see exactly how many times he could cum back to back before it was too much.

This time, you took him deeper until his length hit the back of your throat. Your tongue was pressing against his delicate underside and you were loving the little whimpering noises he was making. You couldn’t help but get excited for the surprise you were going to give him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head when you took him right up to his base. You hadn’t ever deepthroated him before, and the intensity of the sudden warmth scrambled Bucky’s head. He couldn’t hold it in anymore when you gagged around him and he came with a loud shout.

You tried swallowing it all, but some of it dripped down from your mouth to your chin and mixed with the spit. When you pulled away, you smirked when you saw a circle of your lipstick at the base of his still hard dick.

You wiped off the cum from your chin in an elaborate gesture and popped the thumb into your mouth and suckled. By now, your clit was throbbing and it felt as if you were going to burst if you didn’t get some much needed relief.

You placed yourself over his cock and tucked your panties to the side and began rubbing your wet pussy over his cock. Both, yours and Bucky’s eyes were drawn at the sight as your slick mixed with your spit and his cum. It was a debauched sight, and the filthiness of it was turning you on even more.

You clit was rubbing deliciously on his hard cock as you humped him. His head was leaking cum like a broken faucet and you scooped it up and once again tasted it. You could see the effect it was having on him as he kept on twitching underneath you.

You knew he was aching to enter you, but you weren’t going to give him that relief, not yet. You could see the way his fists were curling with the need to touch you. “Be patient baby, and you’ll get all you want.” You murmured in his ear before biting down on his ear lobe.

“Oh fuck!” He cursed as he came again. His cock was trapped between his body and your pussy and he came all over his own stomach. His cum puddled on his hard abs and you felt power surge in you when you saw how you’d ruined him.

“Do you want me to stop baby? You’re sweating a lot.” You asked in a patronising tone as you wiped off sweat from his forehead. “No. Please don’t stop. I’m green. Very green.” His eyes were wide at the thought of you stopping mid way. “Okay then. This is what you asked for.”

You could see his Adam’s apple bobbling when you retrieved the item you had placed on the bedside table. But his face scrunched up in confusion and you stopped your movements. “What happened?” You asked. “You haven’t cum.”

“You’re such a good boy for noticing. But I’m keeping it for the grand finale.” While you were overstimulating Bucky, you were edging yourself. You wanted to feel the euphoric high of finally letting yourself go. Bucky smiled back at you when the realisation dawned upon him.

But that smile soon twisted into an ‘o’ face when you pressed the vibrator to the tip of cock. You knew he was very sensitive by now and aware of even the slightest movements. And you couldn’t even imagine what those vibrations travelling up his spine must be doing to him.

“Tell me how it feels.” You knew Bucky was in no stage of forming proper words and yet you loved pressing him. “It feels so good.” He babbled. You clicked your tongue and his eyes flew open to see what you were going to do. “Just good? Then I’m not doing it right.”

You spit on his cock and a little string connect it to your mouth before you wiped that off. Bucky closed his eyes and laid back into the bed as he feared he’d cum right on spot. His cock was already dribbling with juices and the lubrication added to the pleasure as you pressed the vibrator his cock.

His entire body was pulled taut right before the moment he came and it was the most mesmerising sight ever. His muscles stretched and relaxed when he came, like a string pulled tight before release. You kept on your ministrations until he began twitching. “What’s your colour?”

“Green!” You chuckled to yourself thinking how excited he still was. You once again started pumping his cock with your hand as you pressed the vibrator along his throbbing length. You twisted your hand over his head and he muttered out curses and groans.

His hair was sticking to his forehead as he thrashed around on the bed. His crystal blue eyes were hazy and his cheeks were tear streaked. He was a literally super soldier and yet he absolutely wrecked and you were the reason behind it.

His legs thrashed a little when you suddenly stopped. You lovingly rubbed your hands down his thighs in a soothing motion to calm him down. “Please! I need… I… fuck!..” he had become a babbling incoherent mess and you were living for it.

“I know baby. I know. You’ve been such a good boy for me. Now you get to decide where you cum next.” You already knew his answer, but it was fun to pretend as if he had a choice. “I wanna cum in you. Please!” He was so needy that you wanted to hold him close and kiss his pretty cheeks.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, but he was so out of it that he just kept his mouth open for you to fuck in. You slid out of your panties and he whimpered when you lined his cock with your weeping hole. You both moaned together as you slowly sank down on his thick length.

You relished the tight stretch for a moment before beginning to move your hips. You placed your hand on his chest as you fucked yourself over his cock. Your nails were leaving behind little curved indentations on his skin.

You bent down to press little kisses over his scarred shoulder and the little gesture of love brought more tears to Bucky’s eyes. You loved Bucky more than you could put into words and this was your way of telling him how much you cared for him.

The room was filled with Bucky’s grunts and the wet squelch of your pussy. You unclasped your bra and Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on your tits. You rolled your hard nipples as kept moving your hips. You were driven by the intense need to finally find your released and everything else dimmed in comparison.

“You wanna touch me baby?” You noticed Bucky was squirming and twisting his hands in the rope. “Yes please.” His voice was more of a pathetic whine and you pouted as if to reconsider your choice. “Hmm. Give me one more, and then I’ll let you.” Bucky bit his lip in frustration as he nodded in defeat.

You began drawing tight circles on your swollen clit as you grinded down on him. He made a guttural sound and came with a thrust of his hips when you clenched around him. You didn’t stop even when you felt his hot cum fill you up. You had your goal set in front of your eyes, and you were going to achieve it no matter what.

But true to your words, you began untying the ropes. The knots weren’t really complicated and came off easily. The moment his hands were free, he placed them over your body and kneaded your curves. He pulled your hand away, and began stroking your nub, sending electric sensations up your spine.

His cum began leaking out of your cunt and dripped around his length, adding to the mess. Your eyes fell on the marks you had left before which had already started fading. You couldn’t stop the instinct that roared within you when you placed your hand on his neck.

When Bucky didn’t object, but rather seemed aroused by it, you curled your fingers a bit tighter on his neck as you kept riding him. You felt yourself on the edge of pleasure and you knew that all you needed was a little more push. “Who do you belong to?” You asked in a throaty voice.

“You. I’m yours.” Immense pleasure coursed through your veins when these words spilled out of his lips. You got lost in the storm of torrential sensations as your body shook with tremors. You fell upon the soft embrace of Bucky’s body when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore as you came harder than you ever had.

Bucky couldn’t hold back either as your walls spasmed around his oversensitive cock. He dug his fingers into your soft hips as he came deep within you. You both panted and tried catching your breath as you rode the aftershocks together.

You wiped the strands of hair from Bucky’s forehead and pressed a sweet kiss before getting up. Bucky made a protesting sound and you were quick to reassure him. “You were so good for me sweet boy. So good. But I think this is enough for the day. Let me clean you up first and then we can cuddle. Okay?”

Bucky had a silly smile on his face and you knew he was deep in his headspace. You didn’t waste much time in cleaning yourself and Bucky. Once you were done, you started up a bath for two of you and retrieved a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut fruits which you had kept specially for this occasion.

Bucky eagerly gulped down the cool water and you gently held him close as you walked towards the bath. You checked the temperature of the water and once you were satisfied, you both entered and settled into the warm water.

You had kept the fruits nearby and you picked one strawberry and held it to his lips. He bit into it and closed his eyes as he relished the taste. You popped one into your mouth and sank back into the calming waters. “You didn’t have to do all this.” Bucky’s voice was small as he said it.

“Of course I had to! I’m so lucky to have you in my life Bucky, I need to tell that to you too. You deserve all this Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes welled up with tears and he shook his head. “No. I don’t. I’ve… I’ve done bad things and I…” you shushed him before he went deeper into his thoughts.

“Bucky, look at me.” You cupped his face in your hands as you continued. “It wasn’t your fault. And I’ll say it again and again till you finally believe me. I love you, and I’ll keep on loving you, and for the good or the bad, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from putting my love on you.”

Bucky cracked a smile at your loving threat and he hugged you back tightly. This man may be intimidating with his appearance, but he was truly a gentle and sweet man at his heart. No matter what the world threw at him, he still hadn’t lost his loving heart.

The world and its noise didn’t matter when you were tightly wrapped up in each other’s arms. Bucky was your entire world, and you hadn’t lied when you’d said that you would love him until the end of time. And you knew he felt the same about you when he happily whispered back, “I love you too.”

#in your arms i'm born again #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #mcu #sub!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfiction

[themotherofblood]

My dear author, I know your requests are closed, but I couldn't miss the opportunity so I'm going to try my luck… If you can make an exception, I can get an inspired imagine/oneshot Daemon x Dornish reader in "tabaah ho gaye" by Shreya Ghoshal, with a lot of anguish (breaks my heart) but with a happy ending, please? (feel free to ignore and if you can't accept it I completely understand)

yes!! i’m loving all the bollywood inspired chapters. I was hoping I could use this as a part of the dragon and the dancer since y/n is a dancer and she could be ripping a solo in the mirrored palace like madhuri. Also just for the sake of the story we are gonna pretend that these girls magically know the same choreo as Y/N because we are doing things old school bollywood

masterlist

Part 2 of The Dragon and The Dancer

Daemon Targaryen x Martell! Reader

There was much bustling around the Old Palace in the past fortnight, Qoren’s nameday was upon Dorne and the celebrations as usual were to be magnificent, the Mirrored Palace was brighter yet again, every candle burning anew as sweet jasmine filled the palace; coating its walls in the sweet aroma of the flowers. It had been ten years since this palace was used, there was no joy in using it other than when you spent your nights there.

Another reason to rejoice was thrust into your hands by the gods and you simply didn’t want to linger in the misery of your loss, you provided the Sand sisters with keys; under guise that they would be performing for Qoren, along with your younger cousins of nines and tens. You step daughter Rhaena amongst the little girls, you had gotten her ghungroos of her own, made of blue cloth and light gold bells of her ankles to adjust to. She had been running a muck in her chambers, the little bells jangling as she tested her newest trinket.

You had already been dressed for hours, dressing your little cousins as they could barely standstill for more than a few moments, Rhaena’s curls were put in a puff over her head with a stringlet of dahlias, in a beautiful gold ensemble that matched yours, Baela had gone out with her father to mingle with guests arriving from all over Westeros and Essos.

You had led her out, hand in hand as her eyes wandered over to the sea of guests, many ladies approached you; to greet the newly minted wife of the rogue dragon. Many wondered what you had that they didn’t, many frowned at your colour; scoffing at your exoticness. Your husband was rather easier to spot, his striking silver hair inviting you over from a crowded room of people. You shuffled your way to him, offering more polite greeting to whomever spoke to you.

Daemon had been scowling at an envoy, sent to sway your father about the fighting in Stepstones and side with Craghas Drahar; your father had another reason to remain neutral, he wouldn’t harm your husband’s prospects for your sake but refused to side with them for old time nemesis sake. You reached near him as you followed his path of vision to lay upon a much familiar man, a man you wished you would never see again when you left his court at six and ten.

“You are going to make my men and I very happy.” His grimy fingers held your cheeks as he presented you with your own ghungroos.

You immediately intertwined your hands with Daemon’s, almost slotting yourself behind him as the old master recognized your face and gave your a filthy once over before approaching you. Daemon hadn’t quite realized what the man was looking at until the old master stopped to greet them.

“Ah, sweet Y/N. Look at how you have grown,” He gestured at your body as you partially hid behind Daemon. Given where the man had come from, it didn’t take long until Daemon out the pieces together.

“Prince Daemon!,” The old man sneered “Are you here to entertain us with your dragon?” He japed, you could see a nerve bursting in Daemon’s head as he held your hand tighter.

“Here to celebrate with my wife actually, you know. The princess of Dorne.” He gestured at you.

“I wish- wish you good luck in convincing my father, old Ser.” You gave him a practised petty smile before letting Daemon drag you along to the main hall in the Old Palace. The old master’s eyes widened as he watched you embrace Qoren and he placed a fatherly kiss upon your forehead as you wished him a happy name day.

You had found yourself in the chambers were your sisters and cousins all lounged before the performance, you informed them of your withdrawal without any reasoning before stomping to your own personal chambers. Daemon had caught up to you as he found you angrily undoing the knots of ghungroos to free yourself of them. Daemon kneeled infront you, offering to replace his stable hand with your shaky one’s as he undid the knots as you ranted your reasoning.

“I re- refuse to dance for such perverse, his entire court has seen me much bare than I am.” You sighed angrily, “I really wanted to dance for Qoren.” You pouted. Daemon found your reasoning justified as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You have the world’s time to dance for him again, you should do it when you feel ready, not when the known world thinks you are.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

That was weeks before Daemon Targaryen had decided to descend dragon fire into the Stepstones.

“Your niece’s husband has a dragon!” You reasoned in stress as Daemon prepared his dragon.

“This is the matter of my house, wife. I must fight.” He urged frustrated, hoping for you to see reason in his excursions but all you could picture was you being widowed.

“And what of me? Your daughters? Don’t you owe us your life too?” You bellowed, yanking his gloves from him. He now looked at you perturbed and the scene you were causing. He motioned you to return his gloves and you insolently refused.

“Perhaps if your father would have provided men, this wouldn’t have happened!” This time Daemon let his frustrations get the best of him as he yelled at you, yanking his gloves free from you hands.

“You know I tried!” You shook your head, hoping to fight the tears that threatened to spill.

“You should have tried harder! Or mayhaps your claim to his heart isn’t as meaningful as he poses it to be.” He snapped before existing the chambers. He too didn't want to fight this war and yet he wouldn't allow shame to loom over his brother’s name.

You followed the girls out to the beach mount, Caraxes remained idle as he waited for his rider to mount him. Baela began petting the red dragon, talking to it as if he understood every word. However Caraxes held an odd attention towards you as his giant nostrils flared as he kept sniffing at you. You couldn't quite place what he meant to do and yet pet his snout, hoping he would return your husband to unspoiled; regardless of how angry you were at him at the very moment.

Daemon embraced both his weeping girls, kneeling at their level as they pressed kisses on either side of his cheek before he kissed their foreheads. He looked at you with guilt, hoping to gorge his words from before down his stomach and hitting his head with a rock over how tactless he had been, he came to embrace you; leave you with a parting kiss and yet you pulled away. Pointing at his red dragon, demanding him to leave, he approached once more but you shook your head. Again aggressively point at his dragon.

Daemon’s guilt-ridden eyes gave the women of his life one more look as they embraced one another before Caraxes let out a shrieking whistle and whisked him to the orange clouds of dusk. Just like that he was gone.

Your anger simmered in the coming fortnight as letters began to arrive from the Stepstones, they were written in haste as stains of dirt adored the corners of the papers. He wrote for his daughters and you, making the war sound like an entertaining ballad for his daughters and yet you knew the truth of how ineffectual the dragons had been in this war. He was fighting by hand, starved and pained.

Perhaps the distance and stress for your husband began to claw at your health, you grew nauseous everytime you laid awake to brink of morning as you wondered what he would be doing, was he hurt; was he alright?

Then the universe japed at you as you sat with Maesters, your stomach could barely keep down anything you were eating and as of last fortnight, your handmaidens began behaving oddly up until when they dragged you to the Maester’s chambers.

“Mayhaps two moons princess,” He exclaimed as he washed his hands “Shall I call for your father?”

You shook your head as you rubbed your belly, shaking your head as you realized the night conception. Qoren’s nameday.

More letters were shared between Daemon and you, yet you hid your condition from him; you knew if you told him he would evade his sense of strategy and begin recklessly tearing through people to end the war, with no adhere consequence of his own mortality. The fighting turned dirty as more Velaryon men lost their lives.

You had confessed your pregnancy to your father as you lounged with him at the beach, he had been elated; far too ready to throw yet another extravagant feast and you refused. Urging for him to hold off until your husband returns and not to mention this to anyone else. Perhaps they would figure it out as your belly grew but for now you needed to tell Qoren just to alleviate the gnawing sense of doom in your heart.

Then the letters grew less frequent, muddier and rushed as he professed his love over and over again. Every time you would wish upon them and burn the letters, praying he be returned to you whole. Until a moon turned and his letters stopped entirely, within the three moons he had left, you had never felt the kind of dread you had felt in the moment when the Maester informed you of no letters.

You fought your hasty beating heart, quarrelling for it to stop, to let you breathe normally for just a moment. You rummaged through your chests, hoping to find your ghungroos. For just a while you needed to escape this fear, it was the only thing that would protect your child from yourself. You hurried towards the Mirrored Palace.

The doors had been wide open as echoes of girls giggling and talking were heard from within the main hall, you didn't care to usher them out. You just needed to dance. You had opened the palace for the girls to dance in, it was a shame to keep such a place locked away when it was built with much love for your mother.

Your sisters saw you approach looking troubled, they understood why and sympathized. Some of them caught onto your growing belly during the last turn of the moon. Others figured it out from how you refused to eat certain foods that were once your favourites. Many figured with the four months remaining of your pregnancy, any wife would grow paranoid about their husband’s absence.

“Care to join us, dear sister,” Aliandra spoke up, shushing all your Sand sisters in the process. You didn't say a word, just nodded as your handmaiden helped you tie the ribbons in your ghungroos. Your sisters, with Baela and Rhaena had spent a better part of an hour; arguing over which song to dance over. They knew a few pieces that your mother had taught them and yet everyone had their favourites.

You simply walked to the middle, shrugging your shawl off to not have it in your way, you needed to dance, free-hearted and unabashed. They all awaited, letting you pick the song out of courtesy in your distressed state. You let out a wavering sigh before tucking your right leg behind the left.

Your sweet voice let out the first line of the song, and the master of musical arts and his entourage immediately recognized the song. The strings played their part as a melancholic tune echoed the marble in the palace.

A war widow’s prayer, a macabre choice in tunes and yet far too fitting to portray what it is you were battling within. It called for the safe return of her husband, how she offered her life to the gods for the safe keeping of her husband. Your sisters looked at one another before joining you at the center, all of your ghungroos created a melodic jangle as you danced as one. Rhaena remained seated, still unaware of this piece.

The flute chimed in, calling for the joyous days between Daemon and you, you closed your eyes envisioning the afternoons you had lounged on a sailboat as his daughters swam in the sea. The second verse forces you to remember the sheer aura that drove you toward him, the adoration you held toward him that scared you to the core, praying that your own envy of his essence wouldn't reflect as ill will.

You turned, and so did your sisters; making your skirts flare out in unison. You had to stop for a moment, your singing choked in a sob, as the words whimpered out of your mouth. The colours of your sisters' dresses blurred within the tears pooling past your eyes, they kept dancing knowing better than to not let you feel the anguish you were in.

You recalled your arguement, you hadn't let him kiss you when he left. It couldn't be the last time you kissed him, it simply couldn't. You refused to let that fight be the last of your conversation; even if you had to travel to the Stepstones yourself. There was one thing evident in the last three moons is how incapable of pure joy you were without him. A piece of your heart, packaged in the belongings that he took with him.

Your feet began to ache, from the change in your body due to babe but also how hard you landed on the footwork. The last verse past the bridge echoed across the walls, the notes of your siren-like voice called for far more spectators as you laid your emotions out on the floor, he needed to be okay- he had to be okay. As the last beats of percussion led to the crescendo of footwork, a foot soldier stopped at the gates of the Mirrored Palace, whispering something in your hand maiden’s ear, Her eyes widened as she ran inside, looking toward your dancing figure.

You paused in the middle, everyone still finishing the piece around you, she whispered something to your daughters who ran out of the palace. The shock in her eyes filled your stomach with dread as you walked past your dancing sisters, the thud of ghungroos as you took hastily walked towards the main gates, rubbing at your swollen stomach; far too afraid that if you lost your husband your body would force you to lose this last part of him too.

“Please don't be dead.”

“Please don't be dead.”

You stopped right by the doors, far too afraid to witness what was behind them. You patted your tummy, taking deep breaths as the knights stationed by the door opened them at your approach. There kneeled Daemon, head buried between his daughters’ shoulders as he engulfed them in his giant arms, you stood atop the stairs as tears of relief replaced the ones of anguish from moments before.

You hurried down the stairs, stopping merely a few feet away from him, praying that he was real. He looked up, face still spotted with specks of soot and dirt; his hair chopped much shorter as he wore a crown made of bone. His lips widened in a smile, a soft smile as he took sympathy to your tears. You threw yourself at him, sobbing the moment his arms wrapped around your shaking body.

“I thought- I thought.” You stammered still sobbing as he held your face in his hands “Your letters stopped and there was no news Daemon.” He nodded, letting your emotions pour out of you “I thought you were dead.” You wailed. He lifted you hand to his thudding heart inside his chest

“See, not dead,” He wiped your tears “I’m here, I’m here.” He cooed as his daughters also wrapped themselves around you and him. You caressed Baela’s hair as you felt her rubbing your arm.

You finally calmed down enough to pull apart, most of your emotions were to be blamed on something Daemon was unaware of, until he pulled back to give you an adoring once-over. His eyes stopped at your middle, letting his hand trail to the soft yet firm swell of your belly. It was unapparent from the fullness of your skirt at first glance but his eyes shot to you, a thousand questions looming behind those purple eyes.

“Five moons now,” You informed him, still sniffling as you smiled wider at his shock.

“Healthy?” He asked, still unable to grasp that there was a child within you.

“Healthy.” You nodded, Daemon’s eyes remained fixated on your middle before he engulfed you once more, picking you off your feet and twirled you around. You shrieked.

Daemon had not only returned victorious despite his brother's shunning and misjudgements but also returned to become a father to three children. There was much preparation to be done since he planned to take his wife to the king's landing, and use the celebrations of his great victory as a momentous event to introduce his wife, and now oncoming child to the court. Just as he had his twin daughters.

That night a steaming bath was prepared for the prince to wash himself of the muck and grime from all the fighting. It has only been mere hours since he learned of your pregnancy and had already begun the chicken mothering, he insisted that you lay in bed until he was done, before that he scolded you for bending to untie your ghungroos and anklets, kneeling down himself to undo them. You, however, as little defiant as ever followed after him to the bath.

He dropped his robe, giving you a full view of his back and the newest burns coating his left side. You gasped making him turn and scowl at you. “What did I say about going to bed?”

You shrugged the subject entirely, frowning at the gashes and stabs of arrows on his body. Your feelings bubbled up to a precipice yet again as your bottom lip wobbled. This time you scowled at him, pushing him towards the bath before dropping your own sleep shift to the ground.

Whatever Daemon was mildly irked over just moments before absolutely abandoned his mind, his eyes took in your bare body, the swell of your breasts and your prominent belly. He had no choice but to cave as you joined him in the bath, shuffling to straddle his legs as you gently washed at his wounds. He hissed out loud making you flinch your hand away.

The frown on your face was all too adorable as he chuckled at your reaction, he had lost feeling to the burned side of his shoulder long before and yet the concern on your face for a devious man like him made him melt behind his demeanour. One thing he knew for sure, was that after this bath, with no mind to the injuries that still caused him discomfort, he was going to ravage your swelling body like a beast gone feral on a full moon.

#daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #desiblr #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #spotify #got x reader #male wife daemon #daemon x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon prince #daemon smut #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd x reader #hotd rp #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #hotd smut #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #house martell #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #madhuri dixit #bollywood #desi reader #desi representation #hotd daemon #daemon x aemond #daemon x laena

[why-what-no]

Gentle Touches & Cute Aggression

Pairing: Morpheus x Fem!Reader

Notes: Writing this fic made me go all ‘twirling-my-hair’ giggling. This man gives me such cuteness aggression, so I’m definitely projecting onto this fic🥰

Summary: Morpheus falls in love with a complete sweetheart. This girlfriend is a very affectionate person, and he quickly realizes how much he enjoys it. Insecure dramatic idiots in love

Requested by: @supermegapauselouca

Throughout his time alive, Morpheus had seen unspeakable things. He had felt unspeakable pain. Sometimes, he had done those unspeakable things. It had, all together, left him with a less than optimistic view of the worlds and people inhabiting them.

All of that was why, when he first met (Y/N), he couldn't believe she was genuine. Thinking the jokes and friendliness was a ploy to get him to trust her. It took him a while and a lot of research into her to realize that was just who she was.

He hadn't trusted her at first because he didn't want to, because he knew she was someone who he would care about. Which is exactly what happened. Spending time with her in the Dreaming, letting her explore his palace and keep him company when he was working.

And then he couldn't stop himself from taking the next step. From kissing her and telling her that he had true feelings for her. Because how could he not?

She reciprocated. For what reason, he didn't know. She just kept looking at him like he was special. Like how he looked at her.

She was a bright light that he was drawn to like a moth to a flame. He just worried that the flame would destroy him. He had loved before, and it had always eventually hurt him.

“Why are you here, with me? I could create for you magnificent dreams that you could spent your sleeping hours in. Not stuck in my office watching me go through books."

But she just chuckled, curled up on a couch he had gotten someone to bring in. Specifically so that she would be comfortable. "But I like hanging out with you."

He smiled at her words. But accepted his worry. If (Y/N) broke his heart, he didn't know if he would recover.

***

Obvious to the internal battle that her new boyfriend (or was it partner, or lover? What do you call a immortal, powerful being when you date them) was having, (Y/N) was just watching him work. Content in the peacefulness of the room as she admired him.

He worked for a while, eventually setting his books and pens down. Stepping closer to her and sitting down beside her. This was her favourite part of her dreams. When his full attention was on her and they could talk about whatever was on their minds.

In the waking world, she didn't really have anyone that she could actually talk to. But Morpheus listened, and didn't force her to be the only one pushing the conversation forward. He was interested, asking questions, but also willing to answer any of the billion questions she had for him. The love Morpheus showed to her was better that anything she had felt before.

Somehow their conversation had turned to the subject of "cuteness aggression". Morpheus didn't understand the instinct. "Surely if you like something, you wouldn't want to hurt it?"

"It's not hurting." She couldn't help but laugh. Not that she blamed him, it was a weird thing to feel. "I wouldn't do that. It's all affectionate, good vibes only. It’s like, like this…"

He didn't move away when she moved closer, hand grazing his face. There was a teasing grin on her face as she gently pinched his cheek that let him know she was doing it as a joke. But Morpheus couldn't hide the bright blush on his face.

The Dream Lord was grateful that she didn’t comment on the colour to his cheeks. He didn’t know if he could handle that blow to his ego. But (Y/N) always knew what lines not to cross.

When the blush fade, he nodded just to let her know that he was beginning to understand the appeal. Comparing it to when he would gently bite her lip while making out. Or when he would hug her tightly after a long day of work. It made more sense if he thought about it like that.

"Well, I'm glad no one's getting hurt." He watched her smile at his agreement.

Her hand had moved to his hair, stroking through it gently.

"You're so pretty." She told Morpheus.

His smile was soft and lazy, enjoying her touch too much to tease her back. "Thank you." He told her, leaning into her touch.

Perhaps he didn't have to worry about her breaking his heart after all. Not when she seemed so interested in holding him close. Not that he could blame her.

He felt the same way.

#the sandman #the sandman dream #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #Morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #my fics

[jake-g-lockley]

hi there! I'd love to request prompt 4 and/or 7 with Frankie Morales, please, I would actually start screaming, hope you're having a lovely day <3

Chocolate Eyes (Frankie Morales x reader) Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompts: The hand behind their nape when they’re embarrassed, Almost kissing but someone walks in 0_0 A/N: Hi there!! Thanks for the ask <3! I hope you’re having a lovely day too. Frankie fluff is like a drug to me, so I hope you like this hehe Word Count: 1.6k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your best friend waddled around the room, looking for a dress that she had been begging you to try on. She moved particularly quickly for someone so heavily pregnant and it made you very anxious.

“Slow down Jess, you’re going to push that baby out of you.” you chastised her with a small chuckle.

Jessica yanks the white and blue sundress from her closet with a “Tada!”. You stare at it, wondering whether you could look even remotely pretty from something so beautiful. It had a low neckline, puffy sleeves and screamed summer but you shook your head, feeling that you could not pull it off.

“Oh come on, honey, you’ll look great. Trust me, you’ll definitely turn some heads.” she said, kissing your forehead and wiggling her eyebrows.

You rolled her eyes at her comment. She didn’t mean “some heads”, she was talking about one specific head that you’d pick out of the 7.8 billion heads on the planet. It had been a few years since you saw him, with you going to university. You had given up on him after he didn’t show up to Jessica’s wedding to William Miller, willing yourself to forget about him.

But here you are, a small sad frog playing on your broken heartstrings, trying to piece back together the feelings that you had for Frankie Morales. You missed his curly brown hair that was hidden under his cap and his beautiful smile that was accentuated by a perfect little dimple on his right cheek. You missed his eyes, the beautiful eyes that were the colour of freshly melted chocolate and were full of so much kindness.

You gave Jessica a small smile as she rubbed your shoulder sympathetically.

“Look, this is your chance to get to know all of the cute young bachelors that are going to be at the baby shower. I’m not letting you go without dolling you up. After all, this can just be my practice round before this little princess grows up.” she says, rubbing her tummy.

“Fine, as long as you don’t make me look like a clown.”

“Aye, aye, captain!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jessica kept her word and you gasped at your reflection when she turned the makeup chair around. Soft makeup adorned your face, accentuating your features and your hair fell around your head in magnificent curls. A jewelled headband adorned your head and the dress fit perfectly. You gave Jessica a big hug before holding her hand and leading her downstairs for her baby shower that you had been preparing for all day. At the bottom of the stairs you were met with Santiago who gave you the biggest smile and hugged you tightly.

“¡Ay, chica! When did you take your nose out from your books and decided to visit us?” He chuckled as you pout and punched him playfully in the stomach.

“Oh I’d save that punch for someone else if I were you, if you know what I mean.” he said almost immediately and you frowned further, administering another punch, making him groan. “Leave her alone Pope, how’ve you been, sweetheart.” Benny pulled you out of Santiago’s arms and into his, making you squeal.

“All good, Benny, still being a menace?” you smile sweetly up at the 6 feet tall man.

“As always.” he replied with a small smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but look around for Frankie, your eyes searching hopefully willing for them to meet his sweet brown ones, but to no avail. You sigh and help Jessica to her seat, when the front door opens and the atmosphere of the room changes. Your heart stilled the moment Frankie waltzed through the door, every cell in your body screaming for oxygen as you conveniently forgot how to breathe.

He looked different, a little older with a few grey hairs decorating his crown of brown curls. He had ditched his usual hat and casual shirts for a more formal button down and slacks. The crows feet were more prominent at his eyes when he grinned, but they framed the same beautiful eyes that you had been looking for all these years.

He stopped in his tracks when he looked at you but he didn’t look surprised at your presence, but more of your appearance. He took a second to look you up and down and you blushed, a smile creeping up your face as Jessica tapped your hand. William shoved Frankie’s shoulder with his, nudging him forward. It was then when you noticed he was holding two bouquets.

He knelt down in front of Jessica and kissed her forehead, handing her a bouquet of beautiful pink roses which she cooed at. He then slowly stood up and turned to you, his eyes big and wide as he took in your appearance from up close. You wanted to scream at him, hit him and walk away but you were held captive by his matured beauty. His hand found yours and he brought it up to his lips, kissing it gently, sending an array of butterflies to attack your insides.

“Hi.” he whispered and you didn’t realise how much you missed the sound of his voice.

“Hi.” you said back as you clutched the hand that he kissed close to your heart.

He handed you a bouquet of blue dyed Gardenias and you took a second to glare down at Jessica who was busy sipping on her juice and grinning at her husband.

“They’re beautiful, Francisco, thanks.” you whispered and he raised a hand to the nape of his neck and blushed.

You couldn’t help but grin at his bashfulness, letting him stir you aside as guests started to pile into the house with gifts and well wishes for Jessica. He plucked a flower from your bouquet and tucked it behind your ear, letting his hand slide down to graze your jaw and tip your chin up to meet his eyes.

“You look heavenly.” he breathed.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” you say, feeling yourself get dizzy from all of the attention he was giving you.

Your sweet dream was broken when Santiago yelled, “Catfish, you simp, come here we gotta toast!”

You rolled your eyes at your boys and smiled down at the beautiful bouquet, your heart feeling content for the first time in a long time.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You busied yourself with carrying the gifts up to the nursery, arranging them in piles so that the Millers could have a proper look at them once the party was over. A soft knock sounded at the door and before you could say anything, Frankie opened the door and slipped inside. You smiled at him and he carefully approached you, sitting cross legged beside you.

“Sorting the gifts, huh? Anything good in here?” his first full sentence to you in years made you look up from your work instantly.

“Other than burp clothes and tons of nappies, nothing that we could use.” you chuckled.

Frankie reached out and grabbed a big teddy bear, observing its face before hugging it close to his chest. The action made your heart yearn bad and you stifled a smile as you watched him snuggle his nose into the bear’s head.

“How’ve you been, miel?” he asked, tilting his head so that his eyes met yours again.

“Could have been better, you?”

“About the same as you.” he replied, sighing into the teddy.

“Feels like I’m missing something.” you decided to casually take a leap.

“Me too, miel.”

Frankie straightened his back and scooted closer to you, the smell of his cologne enveloping you in sweet memories. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows, almost as if you were pleading with him to do something about the gap that was between the both of you. Slowly, he got closer and closer, until you could count every single one of his eyelashes that framed his eyes perfectly.

If you tipped your head slightly to the right, your lips would have been on his and you would have felt complete but the door swings open for a second time, causing the both of you to jump away from each other. Benny Miller stood there holding a bottle of wine in one hand and his tie in the other and you mentally cursed him for his perfect timing. His eyes were wide as saucers as he noted the way your hand magically clutched onto Frankie’s thigh.

“Andddd that's another moment ruined by Benjamin Miller. You’re welcome folks.” he said, giving you both a two fingered salute and scurrying away before Frankie could come to his senses and beat the living daylights out of his best friend.

You found yourself giggling, remembering the other moment ruined by Benny that included his brother and your best friend attempting to get some alone time together.

“Oh that bastard, I’m going to kill-” Frankie attempted to stand up but you pulled him down, tired of waiting any longer.

“Shut up, Frankie.” You breathed before letting yourself fall onto the carpet and pulling Frankie down with you, causing his lips to come crashing down against yours with a shocked groan getting caught in his throat. He immediately took hold of the reins and kissed you back, years of tension easing from the way his lips moved against yours in a slow dance.

He pulled away only when he started to suffocate, refusing to leave the safe sanctuary of your soft breaths against your face. He kissed your forehead, nose and cheeks before lying down beside you and staring at the impressive mural that William had painted on the ceiling of the nursery. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your hand again, before clutching it close to his heart as his breathing slowed.

“We should do that more often.” you whisper into the air.

“We really should.” he whispered back, a smile gracing his face. 

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~~

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales #jakeglockley asks #frankie morales x desi!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales smut #triple frontier au #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fan fic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal triple frontier #perdo pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut

[bubblegum-blackwood]

You guys I went to go see the ROYAL PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA and it was SO EPIC but of course I have terminal VC brainrot so I was thinking of the murder family going to musical performances together almost the whole time. Anyway have a snippet of the rule 63 AU I'm writing because I couldn't get this scene out of my head (one of my first attempts in a loooong time to write in first person and I actually think it turned out okay!)

@butchybats this is for you because it was inspired by your blog FEM!LESTAT IN VICTORIAN MENSWEAR YOU'RE WELCOME

“Lesya, we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up!”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m almost ready!” Lesya’s door was closed to me, but I could hear her flittering frantically about as she rushed to finish getting herself all done up. The orchestra was in town, and how could she resist buying us both tickets? I was always ready to go before she was; the woman was prone to fussing over every minute detail, and on good days I found her meticulous attention to her appearance almost endearing, but more often I rolled my eyes at her preening. I tapped my foot impatiently, loud, so she was sure to hear it, and she called out again, “I’m coming, cherie!”

She opened the door, and my mouth went dry.

She had cut off all her luscious golden waves and styled what remained as a man of the era would, and to match she had donned an exquisite three-piece suit, somehow tailored perfectly to her, but where would she have gotten such a thing, although I only stopped to wonder about the details of that after the night had already passed. The waistcoat was of the same red silk satin she so loved to wear in gowns, her shirt beautifully crisp and white against the blood-red tie, the jacket and pants of fine black cashmere wool, with black velvet lapels and a rose in her breast pocket, and on her feet she had placed an exceptionally-made pair of men’s leather dress shoes. She wore no makeup, not that she needed much at all anyway, and it seemed she had bound her breasts, or padded out the rest of her torso, or perhaps a little bit of both, and the overall effect was flawlessly masculine. She smelled like masculine cologne. I could do nothing but stare.

For once, bashfulness coloured her lovely smile. She asked, with a bit of hesitance, “Do you like it?”

I simply nodded, once, and swallowed, and my brow furrowed. “But why?”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “Besides,” she stalked closer with a grin. “Now I can do this in public and no one will give us a second glance.” And she kissed me on the mouth, hungry, vicious, irresistible.

As a woman Lesya possessed an air of elegance and gravity that I have never seen matched, utterly dazzling with her curled hair and fancy jewels and pearls and voluminous skirts, but despite having temporarily put aside her feminine trappings I was drawn to as a crow to a shiny soda can tab she was no less breathtaking for it, presenting a different kind of polished magnificence while still feeling essentially like herself, which I found quite charming. And though I voiced my concerns to her about the possibility of being recognised, the transformation had been so thorough that likely I only saw Lesya behind the masculine facade because of how intimately I knew her - much more intimately than anyone in New Orleans who might have attended the performance that night. We would be indistinguishable from any other lady and her gentleman escort, and so we smiled to ourselves and she offered her arm to me and I took it and we walked out of the house together, and she helped me into the carriage as any gentleman would and threw herself into my lap, nipping at my jaw between indulgent kisses. I was still too much in shock to stop her, and I closed my eyes, let the feeling of her mouth and hands on me wash over me like little bursting fireworks, such vivid and exquisite sensations.

It was strange to see her walking about without ehr hair piled on top of her head like a bouquet of golden threads, strange to see her walking about with no skirts trailing behind her to obscure the sensuous curve of her thighs. I found myself looking down at our feet, mesmerised by the strong strides she took, the movement of her legs, the swish of the fabric around her ankles.

She introduced herself as Monsieur de Lenfent, though she refused to tell me the significance of that name, and said she was the son of a family friend, visiting from France. Everyone was absolutely smitten with this Monsieur de Lenfent, as they were smitten with Madame de Lioncourt, which delighted her greatly. She flirted endlessly with all the young ladies there, and every once and a while turned back to win at me with a mischievous grin. She had the time of her life; she dressed in men’s clothes when we went out together several more times fater that, and no one ever suspected a thing, which gave her that thrill she always chased after.

She walked me into the concert hall on her arm, and we took oru seats as they dimmed the lights, the sound of the tuning orchestra enveloping us. To this day such a noise has the power to transport me back to that time, and it creates a vaguely warm feeling in my chest. So many memories of our little vampire family like this among the company of mortals, a time I sometimes wish I could go back to, if only to ensure I better appreciated it while it lasted. I was still so young then, and still so enthralled by the way my vampire eyes saw the world, and often while Lesya became absorbed in the genius of the composition I became absorbed in watching the performers make their music, the look of bliss on the trumpeter’s face or the intense, focused gaze of the man behind the timpani drums, the elegant gestures of the conductor enacting his call and response with the thrashing flautist and the graceful first violin. The rows of violins, violas, cellos, double basses, so expertly employed. I reached out and took Lesya’s hand in the darkness, and she gave it a gentle squeeze, rubbing her thumb across my knuckles, and then I experienced one of the most profound revelations I have ever been blessed with at a concert such as this. The music surrounded me, enveloped me, wrapped me up as in a blanket and rocked me slowly, and everything I saw blurred save for two rows of string players, illuminated in perfect clarity, all their bows moving in unison. The orchestra seemed like all one cohesive unit, one singular creature, and as the notes swelled the beast heaved great elegant breaths as it stirred in rumbling slumber and whispered secrets in my ear.

The symphony came to its close. Total silence reigned for one trembling heartbeat, then the whole room erupted in applause like a shower of hail battering the roof above us. My head spun. Lesya leapt to her feet, one of the first to do so, and I followed suit, my dead chest beaving with unspeakable emotion.

As we left, Lesya held out her arm for me, and I clutched onto her elbow as if to remind myself that she was real, or perhaps to convince myself that I was, and she kissed me gently on the cheek and lead me out the door. The sudden cold of the night air stung my cheeks and snapped a little bit of life back into me, snapped me back into the present moment and out of my hazy epiphany, and I breathed, relaxing my shoulders.

In the carriage, I laid my head on my shoulders and wrapped my arms around her waist and closed my eyes, and I don’t do this often but I believe I fell asleep to the feel of her hand stroking my hair.

#vc #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv #loustat #rule 63

[goldilockswrites]

Hey this is what I commented about! Could you maybe write a fluffy story where All of måneskin come to your home town for the first time and you go on a walk with them all and take them into a forest as they all say things like “girl do you know where we are” and a really confused boyfriend (Thomas) , it’s ok if not but if you can then thanks 💗🌹🌷

The Part Of Me I’ll Always Need - Thomas Raggi

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Pairing: Thomas Raggi x Reader (she/her) + Guest Appearances from Ethan Torchio, Damiano David and Victoria De Angelis

Requested: Yes

Summary: Y/N’s boyfriend decides to surprise her, by bringing his bandmates to her hometown. The girl suggests they take a walk through the forest and have a picnic. As it turns out after a good hour of wandering it seems they can’t find the spot. Just as they begin doubting Y/N’s knowledge of the trees surrounding here house they find out she’s been planning a surprise all along.

Warnings:  Fluff (Is that even a warning?); Proofread, but there is a chance there are mistakes, since I typed this out at 2 A.M. 

A/N: Hey! Here is another Thommy story, brought to you by Monster and moi (I’m not actually sponsored, by Monster, but at this point with how many cans I’ve had I think it’s time they do.)  I hope you enjoy! :) Love, Axe <3

Tags:  @writingmaneskin @myfavguitarboythomasraggi @moonlight-simp @cuzimitaliano @l0standn0tf0und-fics @selenophiliaxx @wasteddoubts @mywritingonlyfans @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @que--sera--sera @iosonoarina @theimpossiblehologramtree @sunflowerpumpkinpie @maneslut (if you’d like to be removed from the tags feel free to tell me :) )

© 2021-2022 @idyllicbutterfly on Tumblr All Rights Reserved

Add yourself to my taglist - Check out my other stories

╚═════ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ══════╝

The sunlight mustered a magnificent mosaic - gold reflecting from each leaf and branch. Each ray fell gently on bumpy surfaces, as if it was happy to be a part of this mural. Y/N sat in bed - an almost empty cup of coffee on her nightstand, an open laptop on her lap. Manuscripts upon manuscripts. Dull, borning, pretentious. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes; life was ugly, emotions weren’t always beautiful and gracious. There was darkness in the light; and there was light in the darkness, always. However these concepts seemed to be left out of most of these future best-selling authors’ works.

Three knocks distracted her from her work. Y/N put her slippers on walking over to the door. The cabinet in the small halfway was a mess - bottles of hairspray, make-up, jewellery, nail polish, sunglasses. She grabbed the colourful bunch - more keychains than keys hung on the silver ring. One of the eiffel tower, for when she was away, which seemed pretty pointless now that she was home and could see it every time she got out on her balcony for a smoke; one of the colosseum - it reminded her of Rome, the summer she met her boyfriend, the apartment they bought together; the third one was a metal sunflower, the fourth - a red paperclip. She swiftly twisted the key, unlocking the door.

“Buongiorno, mademoiselle." A huge bunch of the yellow flowers was clutched in a man’s hand, a backpack resting by his side. Thomas. “Sun! What are you doing here?” The girl left the bouquet on the ground, throwing her arms around the man. “Well, we happened to be passing by and I decided to come visit, my love.” Y/N glowed as the guitarist kissed her lips. She took a second to observe him.

His gorgeous green eyes fogged with exhaustion; his freckles - now lighter; hair slightly shorter. A wide shirt hung around his frame, most of the buttons left unbuttoned revealing his chest and leaving his tattoos on display.

“Anyway, enough about me. How have you been?” Thomas’ irises sparkling with excitement as they walked to her bedroom. “Well, Mr. International superstar, my life is far less entertaining than yours. All I’ve done the past few months was argue with book agents and try my best to make pretentious fucks, sound more like human beings and less than robots trying to figure out how the human world functions.” Y/N’s gaze wandered around the room landing upon a paint-coated canvas, wrapped in sparkly paper with a tulle bow in the middle. “Oh, I was also invited to this very cool exhibition and might have spoken to the artist about you… And we may or may not have made you a little… Well… Gift.” The girl grabbed the edge of the frame, sliding it to the boy. “Open it.”

His long fingers worked on ripping the paper, a slight shake to his hands. Soon it was all gone, the present revealed - a painting of Y/N and him. He immediately recognised the photo it was inspired by, a polaroid they had taken before tour - Thomas was on his knees on the messy sheets; his girlfriend positioned between his legs, champagne-coloured lingerie adorning her body; his lips were sunk into her shoulder. The room behind them - chaotic; an almost empty bottle of wine and an abundance of clothes thrown around.

“Do you like it?” Y/N placed her head on his back. “I fucking love it.” The sound of a doorbell going off interrupted them, just as their lips were about to touch. “Ugh…” The girl rolled her eyes, as she got to the door. Her own surprise awaited her on her doorstep - the rest of her friends stood in front of her. “Guys! What are you doing here?” She yelled excitedly, throwing her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Hey, kiddo.” He smiled at her. “How have you been?” “Pretty good, grandpa.” Y/N/N giggled. “What about you?” “Tired, but happy.” The drummer nodded. “So, we didn’t interrupt you and the cowboy, did we?” Damiano inspected the make-up that laid on the counter in the room.

“I told someone we should wait…” Victoria pointed towards the singer. “But he didn’t listen.” “No, no, problem at all. We were just talking.” The girl nodded. “Hey, Cobra!” The vocalist patted Thom’s back. “What did you and mademoiselle over here do, huh? You know I am too young to become an uncle, yes?” “Chill, Y/N was kind enough to give me a gift.” “So did you give her the souvenirs or not?” The bassist pushed the boy.

She always thought of the blond as her younger brother, so when he asked for help to buy gifts for his girlfriend, she couldn’t help, but wander into all the shops that seemed to have things that would fit the taste of the editor. In the end, the trinkets of all their destinations were stored in a beautiful velvet bag; the items inside varied from rings, bracelets and charms, to CDs and books.

“Not yet.” The boy smiled sheepishly, before he reached into his bag taking out the purple pouch. “Here you go, love.” Y/N smiled widely, almost tearing up. “Thank you so much, sun! You are so thoughtful!” She kissed his cheek. Her fingertips pulled the ribbons apart, opening the bag. Inside she first spotted an abundance of rings: butterflies, flowers, bees, lions; five CDs - all limited edition albums of her favourite musicians; and a compilation of Charles Bukowski’s poetry. “Flower…” Y/N/N teared up. “This is seriously one of the kindest things ever!” The girl threw her arms around the boy one more time. Damiano cleared his throat behind them. “I’d hate to ruin your romantic moment over there, but if you wouldn’t mind, Thomas, we would all want to speed some time with lil’.” “I am taller than you.” Y/N snickered.

“Of course, of course. Now where should we go?” “Would you guys like to have a picnic? I can get some pastries and coffee from the bakery downstairs and we can take a walk through the forest.” “That sounds like a genius idea.” Vic giggled. “How about we go get them and the boys get the luggage inside.” Y/N/N pretended to think for a minute, before laughing at the request and nodding in agreement.

“Jasmine” seemed small and dark - quite the uninviting view, from anyone unaware of the peace and charm the bakery actually had. No more than 1500 square feet; a chequered floor, teal walls and glass fridges filled with all sorts of sweets - cakes, cookies, muffins and macaroons. “Salut!” Maya lifted her gaze from the display. Her grey-ish hair concealed in a net; skin flecked with sunspots. “Salut, Maya! Ça va?” The girl answered cheerfully. "Ça va, et toi?” The elderly woman answered. “Tres bien. Merci!” Y/N’s gaze slipped from pastry to pastry, discussing what she should get with the bassist. In the end they settled on what to order, asking for it to be placed in a brown paper bag.

Outside the weather was even more sunny than before. The boys stood by the little building smoking cigarettes stuck deep in a conversation about some song. “Hey, boys! We got the food, do you want to get going?” Y/N asked, raising the bag in her left hand. “Of course.” Thomas jogged forward, grabbing the pouch from her and clutching her hand, sealing their lips, before letting her drag him in the direction she had in mind, the rest of the band following. It didn’t take long before they were wandering into a forest-like territory, which was in reality a park, steering off sandy and stone paths and walking through the grass.

Insects flew around them, small lizards making leaves and branches crunch under their bodies.

“Y/N/N, I am not saying I doubt your orientation abilities, but are you sure we are headed the right way?” Ethan was the first one to ask, feeling creeped out by the view of trees behind, in front and to the sides. “I am absolutely sure,we are headed the correct way. We are almost there.”

As if on cue a patch of bare ground appeared on the horizon. “Here we go!” Y/N gestured to the spot, ducks swimming around in the lake, flowers growing close to the water. The girl grabbed the guitarist by the hand, dragging him to the stone-covered ground. “Okay, there’s actually a very important reason I got you guys here exactly.” The girl took out a small box from her back pocket. “Thommy, you make me the happiest woman alive. I’ve never known happiness this strong, before I was with you. I love you and you are the part of me I’ll always need. Will you marry me?” The blond stared at her in disbelief, gaze darting from her face over to the silver band. Still speechless he took his necklace off, opening the pendant that hung on the thin chain - a flat ring inside; the band glimmered, seven small stones set on it.

“I- Y/N, I never want to let you go either.” The boy smiled, as tears filled both of their eyes. “Yes.” He said. “I will marry you.” The woman nodded, placing the ring on his finger with a shaky hand. Extending her own for him to place the ring atop hers. “Okay, can we finally eat?” Damiano giggled excitedly, clapping his hands together.

#maneskin fanfiction #thomas raggi fanfiction #ethan torchio fanfiction #victoria de angelis fanfiction #damiano david fanfiction #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis fanfic #victoria de angelis #damiano david imagine #damiano david x reader #damiano david #maneskin imagine #maneskin #maneskin x reader

[khalixvitae]

sorry to hear your shift was shit!! arghghg we all toil under the goochie grip of capitalism. i had an idea about rook and vil but it's in the book 6 settings and though it's not really relevant to the plot nor is it spoiler heavy, the initiation of the scenario does involve some context from the book and i dont know if you'd mind mild spoilers!! not to mention the og thought leans into nitty gritty smutty territory lmfao lols.... all rook stans are vil stans by proxy and both these blonds whisper terrible thoughts into my head every nite... other thoughts vil and rook using you as a lipstick sample tester with their new array of colours; can't have their colour looking less than flattering on you when they kiss you, right? vil will gracefully leave a peck on your lips, on your cheek, on your forehead, on your jaw, on your neck. if he isn't satisfied, he huffs and wipes it off with gentle ease. if he is, he smiles to himself with prideful satisfaction-- leaves the mark on, and reaches for another. rook thinks all the colours are absolutely magnificent on you! he's a little less dignified than vil in having his turn, but it's also very crucial to see how the swatch looks smudged against your lips ok. at the end of it you'll be looking like that "came home drunk last night and got way too excited to see my cat" picture except your whole face is marked with kiss stains. or vil having you substitute in as an actor and him slowly growing enamored with your innate beauty, both on the silver screen and just right infront of him. maybe he has rook as the photographer and he, too, falls madly in love with you. now you're the muse of two people who are very adamant on helping you to be the most radiant version of yourself and showing you just how brilliant you are now...

- the same balls 2 tha walls anon

This is literally so perfect, thank you for the food anon 😭😭😭. I just woke up and what a wonderful thing to see. Also, I’m about 2/3 of the way done with Book 6 for reference !

Oh to be a living lipstick swatch for Vil and Rook <3 also you’re so right about becoming a Stan of one by association with the other. I actually started out the other way around as a Vil Stan™️ out the gate in book 5, and by book 6 Rook fully sank his claws into my brain. Their insane levels of loyalty and responsibility, as well as their loves for their respective crafts made them so interesting to me. There’s actually a post somewhere on here that I made right when I started book 6 about how I didn’t give a fuck what Idia had going on, I just heard I got a kiss from Vil and I was gonna bulldoze my way thru for him haha. Andddd then I ended up REALLY caring what Idia had going on (I still wanted my kiss though hehe hoo). Whatever the Shrouds have going on should be studied by our nations brightest minds bc girl what the FUCK. Book 6 has been my fav part so far though- the mini game segments were so cool??? Like I loved that addition sm.

Anywho, yes in my mind palace I am romantically involved with both Rook and Vil, they are my strange and wonderful companions <3 also swatching lipsticks so he knows what color looks best when he kisses you is SO Vil, and thinking that every color looks beautiful in its own way is SO ROOK like oh my god 😭😭 the only thing that they can manage to agree on, their respective eccentricities aside, is that you look lovely covered in kisses.

Another thing: anon, what should I call you? Because reading your signature as soon as I woke up had disastrous results- I did read it as “the same balls anon”. Which you could be, if you so wish- if you don’t want to have a moniker at All ofc that’s fine too! Have a great day <3

#twisted wonderland #asks !! #twst #x reader #vil posting ！(◎_◎;) #vil schoenheit #rookism <3 #Rook Hunt

[aamuusva]

I am in love with your art!!! How much time did it take you to draw as magnificently as you do? Do you have any tips for beginner artists?

Such an encouraging message since I constantly struggle with my works, so thank you very much! I started creating fan art maybe 5-6 years ago, but I had studied arts (although not drawing or painting) and still do. 

I piled some tips below, which I try to tell myself but maybe they would help you too: 

— look for references and inspiration, I especially like to look at actual art history books since I’ve noticed online it’s hard these days to separate images generated by ai from artworks (I especially love colours and light in rococo and renaissance works)

— I also use my own body as reference, and take loads of phone photos/videos of myself in different poses, especially useful for hands (!) or referencing how a fabric would fall on the floor

— personally I only draw/paint when I’m in the mood and take breaks (as I do fanart as a hobby) which helps me not to burn out and keeps things fun

— recently I’ve tried to use larger brush strokes in painting and focus on shapes and light rather than details, though I’m still learning this, as well as thought of a painting as a photograph where there's depth of field and not everything needs to be in 'focus'

Hope some of this is helpful, I think it really depends what kind of style you like to work with!

#ask #text

[racfoam]

Honestly everytime I went to your tumblr page you have something new posted. Like I left you for 2 hours and there'll be 3 person who asked you for a snippet and you delivered it flawlessly.. Like honey, are you REAL?? Are you actually not an AI? How can a human be this creative and fast?? It's both impressive AND concerning, like, do you get rest? Don't forget to rest hon!!😔

I'm not an AI. Trust me, no AI can do this. 😤

I'm a real person. I'm going to prove it. Here are some silly memories of kid Rac when I was just a baby capybara.

I like swimming and freediving. I learned to swim when I was 2. I have gotten bitten by a cat when I was 9 but I also took care of stray kittens at that same age 😅 I got a permanent scar on my front lower part of the leg from crashing straight into a stone veranda on rollerblades when I was 10 I think. Idk.

I watched the DH Part 2 in the theaters when I was 11 and it was the greatest cinema-going experience in my life. I always had a crush on Harry. I watched the movies too young (when I was 8) and couldn't sleep from dementors. On the graveyard Voldemort made me hold my breath for the entire 8 minutes he was on screen, that was how scared of him I was. Shipped Harmione big time, they were so cute, especially in Prisoner of Azkaban (PoA Harry is the Harry 8-year-old Rac got a crush on). I didn't read the books until I was 14 and that was only an audiobook of GoF and I only listened to the graveyard scene. But I do remember the US covers. I remember that cover art; the image of Harry, in a sort of red cloak, the background of ruins, reaching his hand out, with the orange colours around him, like a sunset, or sunrise. I remember the sharp letters of Deathly Hallows. I remember seeing Voldemort's skeletal hand right to the left. Magnificent cover.

I think that art of Harry on that cover really stayed with me. I grew up on those US covers even though I'm not from the US. All the libraries had those covers, but with translation to my country's language, even the cover itself, with the font remaining the same. I knew every cover of every book, blue for OoTP, green and purple for HBP, the GoF, too... Yeah, those are the covers I grew up on. :) They're classic.

Unfortunately, all the libraries have now sent them to the shredder because the hardcover got worn (no respect for books sometimes, ugh) and torn. They're redoing it with the newest covers now as they come out and translating those. I don't have these covers at home. I'd really like to have those, but dear Merlin, the shipping cost from US by Amazon is so expensive. I do have some of the DVD boxes from the HP movies, though, so that's great :)

I take hot chocolate as bribery. I was actually pretty tired yesterday (I took a morning shower, big mistake, showers leave me sleepy the entire day) Yes, I sleep and get enough rest 7-8 hours per day. Thank you for worrying 😭❤️ Oh, I wouldn't say all snippets are flawless, but thank you for saying so. I just like writing and sharing stuff with you guys. I’m glad to know people enjoy my writing. I am also slightly avoiding writing nynn 40 cause I feel like it sucks writing-wise.

Sending love to you, anon! ❤️❤️

#asks

[changingobsessions88]

Goldeneye - Chapter 5

Reading and cooling down

Miles wakes the next morning with the early light shining into the white bedroom. Looking down, he sees you nestled on his chest. This is his favourite way to wake up. He misses this when he is filming. The closeness he feels to you in these quiet moments, this is what life is about. Knowing that you need some rest, Miles just watches you. He watches the way the sunlight is hitting your skin. The colour you got at the beach contrasting with the white sheets. He has never seen you look more peaceful. He takes a mental image of this moment, sure to remember this moment for when he is away. 

After a while, Miles sees your breathing pattern starting to change, and knows that you are starting to wake. Gently running his hand through your hair, you eyes flutter open to see Miles’ beautiful eyes staring back at you. A small smile forms as you stretch and nuzzle further into his chest. Inhaling his unique scent, you close you eyes again for a moment. “Morning Darling, how are you? Did you have a good sleep?”

“mmm, I’m good, I had the best sleep. Doesn’t hurt when you have a great pillow”, you say, implying that Miles’ chest is the best place to sleep. You smile up at him and rub your nose against his. This brings a smile to his face as well. He loves the little ways you show him affection. There are a couple that he loves more than anything. The way she rubs his hand when she is nervous, the eskimo kisses in public and the way she runs her fingers through the curls at the nape of your neck. There is nothing more she needs to tell you when she does these gestures. It portrays all the love she has for you in those small movements. 

Giving you a squeeze, Miles gently moves you off his chest and swings his legs off the bed. You prop your head on your hand and watch the magnificent man get out of the bed. Back muscles rippling, and that tight arse, you try not to drool. Miles pulls on some pants and a shirt and turns back around to you. His smile can light up the world when he wants to. Leaning back onto the bed and pecking you on the lips, he pulls back and wanders out to the kitchen. You roll back onto the pillows, content with having a few more minutes rest. You can smell the aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and it’s at that point that you decide to get up. Grabbing one of Miles’ shirts from the floor, you pad into the kitchen. Hearing your footsteps, Miles starts to brew your coffee. Before he has a chance to turn around, you snake your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his back, in-between his shoulder blades. Miles’s hands come to rest over yours, as you just stand still, taking in each other. You close your eyes and gently hum. Miles rubs your hands, waiting for you to make the first move. Once the smell of coffee is too much to take, you kiss his back and pull away. At the same time, Miles turns and hands you the mug, piping hot and exactly how you like it. Cradling the mug in both hands, you inhale the aroma and half moan. If Miles was the first love of your life, coffee was second. Miles knows that you can’t start your morning without the black gold. As Miles has been away on a press tour for the last few months, he has missed this daily routine. Whenever he is home, he makes sure that there is a coffee waiting for you when you wake. Miles is very proud of this routine and is something that he will never give up. You always tell him that he doesn’t have to make it for you, but he insists every morning. It helps him to reconcile the days that he isn’t there. Not just for making coffee, but for everything that you do during the day. 

After breakfast, you sit on the couch and discuss with Miles what you would like to do today. Miles actually had a little work that he had to do (which he apologies profusely for), but you don’t mind. You don’t feel like going to the beach, but you are happy to sit in the little courtyard and read your book. Once you have told Miles of your plan, you potter around the villa getting everything you need. Water bottle, book, a couple of snacks. Walking back into the bedroom you decide on another bikini. You smile to yourself at your selection. This one is even more revealing than the white one from the other day. This one is red - as sin - and even smaller again. It was basically string. There were tiny patches to cover your nipples that were connected to string that tied around your neck. There were other ties that criss crossed around your back and became the bottom of the bikini. That’s all. A little patch to cover the basics of your modesty (not that you had much this trip) and that was it. You weren’t even going to bring this one with you. The way you felt about the white one was nothing compared to how you felt about this one. You knew that this was only going to be for Miles’s eyes, so this one was never going to leave the house. You didn’t even think you would wear it. Ensuring that you didn’t have any flaps hanging out and the cover over your nipples was even, you grabbed a towel from the bathroom and ventured out into the lounge room. 

As you turn the corner, you see that Miles has put out a blanket for you, so you wouldn’t be lying on the grass. At the same time, Miles walks back into the room and actually drops the water bottle he is holding. His mouth drops open as his eyes rake over your body. It is like you are frozen in your spot. You can’t move as you watch Miles stalk over to you. A shiver runs through your body as you see the look on his face. If lust had a face, it would be Miles. You keep your eyes on him as he gets closer. You can see his hands twitch as he wants to reach out and touch you. Once he is as close as possible to you, he lets out a breath. “Darling, what do you call this”, Miles asks as he runs a finger over the string from your breast to your collarbone. “This is something just for you” you whisper, your voice unsure. “I promise I was never going to wear it in public. It was only ever going to be for your eyes only” you start to ramble. “I wasn’t even going to bring it. I look ridiculous”. Miles can see you starting to retreat into yourself. Your insecurities coming forward. “Darling, I think you took me the wrong way” Miles says as he brings his other hand up to the other string near your collarbone. “This is the most sexy thing I have ever seen. You look like sin and the only thing I want to do is rip this off you and have you right here”. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you push your shoulders back a bit, feeling more confident. “Oh, well then, I’m glad you like it”. With your growing confidence, you strut you way out to the courtyard. At that point, Miles sees what the swimsuit looks like from the back and moans to himself as he goes and picks up the water bottle he dropped. 

Taking pride in how you made Miles react, you make your way to the blanket and drop your towel, joining the water bottle and book that Miles has already brought out. Covering yourself in sunscreen, even though you aren’t in direct sunlight, you settle in for an afternoon of reading. After about 20 minutes, you find there is a flaw with the swimsuit - it is terribly uncomfortable. It actually feels like dental floss between your butt cheeks. Miles has set himself up on the dining table and is concentrating on his laptop. Every now and again nodding to himself when he is happy with changes or notes he is making to the script. You debate with yourself. You can’t take the bottoms off without taking the top as well, all the strings are connected. Your conservative side is debating with your more outgoing side (which is growing). Looking around the courtyard, you know that no-one can see in. The activities you did when you first arrived flash through your mind. Without hesitation, you sit up and undo the tie around your neck. With a sigh of relief you feel the fabric pull away from your skin. Revealing your breasts first, your nipples pebble when the cool air hits them. This you are starting to get more comfortable with. It’s the next part that you need to gear yourself up for. Raising your hips, you pull the strings away from your mound and butt. The relief is immediate. You actually give a little moan as you are freed from that torture device. Laying back down, you keep still as you get used to being completely naked in public. Well, out in the open anyway. The heat starts to warm your skin and you slowly start to enjoy the feeling of being completely bare. You wiggle your toes and lie back down on the blanket, returning to your book. 

Miles has just finished a page of notes, happy with how it has turned out. He lifts his eyes from the laptop screen and actually stops breathing. First he thinks that you have just taken your top off again, getting a little more bold. Then his eyes continue down your body. It has to be a dream. You, without a stitch of clothes on, casually reading your book. He can see the way the sun is gently warming your skin. You aren’t in the direct sunlight, but he can see that you are content and warm in the courtyard. His shorts immediately become tight as he thinks about what he can do to you. What he wants to do to you. You are so focused on your book that you don’t realise Miles is starring at you. You get a feeling that you can’t explain, that makes you look up from your book. It’s at that moment you realise that Miles is looking at you. Looking at you like he wants to eat you. He very calmly pushes the chair back and stands at the table. You can see him try to restrain himself. He walks through the villa and out into the yard. “Hi darling, whatcha going?”

Looking down at yourself and back up at his face you quietly say, “It was so uncomfortable, I just couldn’t wear it any longer”. Miles looks a little disappointed. “I really wanted to take that off you”, he says with a bit of a frown. “You should have called out to me. You know I’m your knight in shining armour”. Seeing that Miles is playing with you, you lean back and let your legs fall open. He chokes on his words as he stares down at you. “Fuck you are the most exquisite thing I have ever seen. You look like you are getting a little hot daring, let me cool you down. Be back in a minute”. At this, Miles walks back into the villa. You look down at yourself, presented to him, and start to wonder why he left you. Before you can voice your concerns, Miles returns with a glass of ice. Tilting your head at him, you wonder what he is doing. Without a moment’s hesitation, Miles puts the cup of ice next to your head, and removes his shirt. Now it’s your turn to stare. Damn you lucked out with him. His chest hair smattering across his broad expanse. Nipples peaking out. Roaming down to his snail trail and knowing what is underneath his shorts has you rubbing your thighs together. Miles sees this and places a hand on one of them. “None of that yet, I am going to cool you down”. Looking into his eyes, you see him pick up the glass and bring an ice cube into his mouth. He immediately drops to his knees and straddles you. Giving you a wink, he drops his head to your chest and takes a nipple into his mouth. You arch off the blanket with the sensation. The coolness of the ice cube and his tongue compared to the heat of your sun kissed skin is turning you on. You feel a gush come out of you as Miles lifts his head and swaps breasts. The sensation hits you again and you are a little more prepared. You moan loudly and grab onto his curls. Keeping him in place. You feel Miles smile against your skin as he hums to himself. With the temperature in the garden, the first ice cube melts quickly. Lifting his head off you, Miles reaches for another ice cube and starts again. This time down your stomach. Butterfly kisses cover you as Miles runs the ice cube down your heated skin. The wetness between your legs is getting worse and you try to rub your thighs together again. Miles can feel you shifting and squirming under him. He knows you are getting aroused. He would never tell you, but he can actually smell it in the air. It drives him insane and makes him so hard. 

Collecting the glass of ice and bringing it next to your hip, Miles grabs the next ice cube between his teeth. He looks up at you - your pupils are blown and you have little pools of water across your torso. There isn’t any indication that you want him to stop. He will always ask though, that’s just him. With a slight nod of your head, Miles returns to his final destination. Very gently, Miles starts moving the ice cube around your mound and outer lips. With the sensitivity, you legs try and close as a reflex. You let out a startled cry due to the coldness. Miles brings one hand to hold your hip, a reminder to keep your legs open, but also that he is there. After the initial shock of the temperature, you start to enjoy the feeling. The cube is so cold, but Miles’s lips are starting to warm and the hot and cold sensation is messing with your head. The ice cube melts faster, as the heat that is radiating from your core would melt the polar ice cap right about now. Before you know what is happening, Miles has shifted the hand on your hip and has grabbed another two ice cubes. In unison, he has pushed one straight into you, along with two of his fingers, as well as placing one directly on your clit. You howl as the freezing ice hits you in both places but then something happens. You cum immediately. And cum hard. Miles can feel your pulsing around his fingers as the ice cube melts and water mixed with your essence runs out of you. You clit is also pulsing as the ice melts and Miles’s fingers now are in its place. You haven’t actually made a sound as your orgasm ripped through you so quickly you weren’t ready for it. Shaking and panting, you wait for your ears to stop ringing. Miles is gently rubbing circles on your inner thigh. He is speechless. He has never seen you respond like that. It was amazing, but you haven’t made a noice, and Miles is a little worried. Leaning on his elbows, he keeps touching you, bringing you back down. Looking closely at your face, Miles waits for you to come back. After 5 minutes, Miles can finally see your eyes start to focus back on him. He runs his hands along your forehead, drawing back the little fine hairs that have fallen from your ponytail. “Darling, please say something”. Miles has seen you like this a couple of times, but never have you been out of it for this long. “I don’t know what to say. What happened”, you mumble, almost sounding drunk. “I think you were so worked up you just had a huge orgasm, but really quickly. I’m guessing that snuck up on you, eh?”

Nodding slowly, you try and think about what just happened. It must have been the temperature sensation as well as the excitement of being naked that just tipped you over the edge. Raising back onto your elbows, you kiss Miles passionately, trying to convey how you feel. You are so happy that you have found someone who treats you the way Miles does, both in and out of the bedroom. Knowing how to push your buttons and your boundaries, Miles has been the light of your life. Looking down, you see the tent that is in Miles’s pants. He is lucky that he didn’t cum in his pants, the way you just exploded. You look back into his eyes and Miles knows what you are asking. “You know that I don’t expect anything in return, don’t you?” You nod, but you want to do this for him. Rolling him onto the blanket, you straddle him. You drop your core onto his bulge and you both moan. Smirking at him, you start to grind onto him. You plant your hands onto his chest and gently tweak his nipples. He moans loudly and bucks his hips up into you. He watches your naked breasts bouncing as you start a rhythm over his cock. Up and down and back and forward. Over and over you complete this motion. Miles puts his hands behind his head, as he knows that you want to have control this time. Leaning forward, you take a nipple in your mouth and Miles’ eyes roll back into his head. “Baby, if you keep this up, I am going to cream my pants”. 

“That’s what I want Miles, I want you to cum all over yourself. I want to you cum so hard you can’t remember your name”. At that, you start your speed up your motions. Miles is finding it hard not to reach out to you, but he is trying. You lean back again and place your hands on his thighs. He starts to buck his hips faster, almost with every rotation of your hips. You can see him looking at you, moving from your breasts to the junction of your thighs. Your lips are slightly spread, accommodating his cock that is almost bursting through his pants. He is panting hard and moaning and grunting. You are getting close as well. Giving it a final go, you add a little bounce to your motion and that does it. The feel of the fabric of Miles’s pants against your clit is taking you higher and higher. You see Miles’ eyes close and his stomach muscles clench, extenuating his abs. With a final moan and FUCK, Miles unloads into his pants. At the same time, you feel the heat from his seed and this sets you off. Grinding deep, you release all over his shorts. Taking a moment to get your breath, you swivel off him and sit on the blanket. You look at the dark patch of his pants, a combination of his seed and your essence. Before you can stop yourself, you lean down and suck. Tasting both of you together is euphoric. Miles almost cums again as he watches what you are doing. 

After he has recovered long enough to feel his legs, he pulls you up to his chest and kisses you. Deeply, conveying all the affection that he feels for you. You are content is his arms, feeling the little bubble of love you have created, until Miles speaks up. “I know you aren’t so bad darling, but I need to get out of these shorts. I feel like I’m 13 again and have had a wet dream”. You giggle at him, bringing the image into your brain. “Sure thing, let’s get you cleaned up, you dirty boy”. 

“If I’m a dirty boy, you are a filthy girl my dear”, Miles says, getting up and making a face when he feels the wet, sticky fabric against his skin. Offering you his hand, he pulls you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal as he lightly smacks your bum, leading you into the villa and bathroom. 

#miles teller #goldeneye #James Bond #Top Gun #white jacket #holiday smut #miles teller smut

[the-fear]

🦚 and🏳️‍🌈 for the ask game :3

Thanks so much for the ask! :)

🦚 - Are there any queer books/shows/etc. that you would suggest?

[Warning: book rants ahead]

I’d recommend the Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. It’s a standalone fantasy novel and has quite a lot of queer representation - a developing sapphic romance, a previous (but tragic) gay romance, and a character who I’m pretty sure is aroace (but I don’t remember if it was confirmed). Sadly I don’t remember if there were any trans/nonbinary characters, but the world building is beautiful and it actually uses fantasy elements from a range of different cultures (not just Western Europe for once!). Also the book cover is magnificent.

Another book I’d recommend is Little Theives by Margaret Owen. It’s also fantasy and I’m pretty sure a sequel is coming out soon (there are also some amazing illustrations in it)! It uses more European fantasy elements and is based on the Goose-girl folktale. Both the main character and her love interest are confirmed demisexual by the author (and I also really think they’re arospec but that’s just my headcanon), a sapphic romance, an incorporation of trans characters into the world which although was understated was still good. There’s also a nonbinary (side)character in it and overall it’s just a brilliant book - but watch out because it does delve into some dark themes, including discussion of attempted SA.

🏳️‍🌈 - Do you enjoy the colors of your preferred flag? Do you incorporate it into your outfits, decor, etc.?

Yes, I really enjoy the colours of the aromantic and aroallo flags, and I incorporate them into my outfits (but mostly through accessories that I’ve made). I’ve also embroidered some pride flags onto a denim jacket (which I sadly don’t wear that much) and I even attempted to make some earrings with flags on them.

#ask game answers #spiderrsoup

[mangacat201]

𝐓𝐀𝐆 (𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄) 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

Got tagged by @hedgewyse whom I was very happy to get to know better via this tag game, thanks a lot! Sorry it took so long to respond, I needed to get on tumblr on the laptop where I can actually type up text and I had a lot of things going on this past week that kept me LOL.

Favourite colour: Blue.

No explanation, not particular reason why, it’s just always been blue. All shades from deep purple to almost white. But I have a special place in my heart for the word ‘turquoise’, which I feel is just so the most. 

Currently reading: Oh good gosh, my open doc reading list is so long, I will constrain myself to the most recent things...

“(Love is)The second oldest profession” The 9-1-1 Buck/Eddie pornstar!AU I knew I needed but kept for a special occasion

I’m also reading “Achtsam Morden” a national German bestseller and the first actual like physical book I’ve picked up in probably four years. It’s hilarious and murdery and perfect

I’m listening to “Blood & Paper” by Kevin Hearne (whom I recently got to meet at a book signing event when he was visiting here and a friend asked me to spontaneously tag along - best decision in ages) Love the audiobook version read by Luke Daniels, he’s a whizz with the accents.

“Hide the drums (there’s fire in the sky)” latest installment of the Magical Marriage Ribbons-Verse, the Untamed Mega Saga, for which the author starandrea has been posting a chapter every day since May 31st 2020, so 805 consecutive days as of now without missing ONE. It boggles the mind. (I’ve started reading when the verse was ... oh I think about three parts in, I haven’t missed one too since then)

Last song: “The Greatest Show on Earth” - Nightwish, it’s my soundtrack for my daily yoga practice (no I am in fact not joking), so it doesn’t really count last leisure listening was the soundtrack of ‘Robin Hood - Das Musical’

Last series: Ooofff... ok, so many balls in the air at the same time. I’m watching “The Sandman” of course, as you do and loving it. Also “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” which is THE MOST(tm). Recently finished my rewatch and catch-up of “Manifest” and rewatched a couple of episodes of The Devil Judge with a friend who just started and that I got into it, remembering why I can’t be normal about those boys (and how delightful it is to rewatch with someone experiencing sth for the first time). Of course went down the magnificent and batshit crazy rabbithole that is Kinnporsche. Also, “Tomorrow” which is definitely my fav K-Drama of 2022.

Last movie: Day Shift - Fun and a nice remix of vampire tropes that you don’t really see on top of each other a lot. But it felt more like a set up to a movie trilogy I don’t know if it’s made enough impact into getting, so the premise might have been served better as a mini series? ...The Gray Man, which was solid and enjoyable and absolutely bonkers with how hilarious it was to watch Chris Evans have a ton of fun playing straight up, no holds barred, unredeemable villian. Ryan Gosling can stay... Ana de Armas is queen bee.

Currently working on: My last day of vacation :sob: and of course my WIP/plot bunnie enclosure excel spreadsheet (yes, I do not do things by half until I halfass writing them). Anyway, actual words or plotty thinky thoughts were put into:

- The Devil Judge a/b/o PWP (that has, so far, about 5k of set up and no porn) with a Jung Sunah made them do it scenario and non-traditional dynamics (yeah, idek...)

- Vincenzo Inception fusion - Jang Han Seo wakes up from getting shot to a curious set up of sleeping people around him (really really wanna write this one but the premise is so vast I’m afraid of flaming out again)

- three separate 9-1-1 Buddie fics of varying size and scope that reaches from one’s in love the other isn’t and confessions make things complicated (or do they), the fall out from the truck bombing goes the other way for Buck & the “Eddie deals with his 5B-issues by discovering shibari”!AU (do NOT try this at home-therapy)

- The Untamed - Blades of Glory!AU

pheeeeew. hooookay, wow, that was interesting, hope your learned something about me. I’mma tag some people, but please, feel free to participate at your own leisure. @hattalove, @the-marathon-continues-nip , @iskarieot, @themostglorioushour, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels , @fondofeveryprickle, @ahhhnorealnamesallowed, @sam-t-a, @b612sunsets

#tag game #get to know me #lol

[kyanitesaphire]

Lightning In A Bottle chapter 8

A vibration in her pocket drew Éclair’s attention as she cheerily sauntered down the sidewalk after her meeting with Dr. Deschamps. It was a text message from Dauphin.

-We haven’t heard from you in a few days. Do you still want to meet up?

Éclair thought for a moment before replying.

-Sure. I’m free now if you want.

- I’m currently indisposed, but I can send Ciel to meet you and bring you here. You can meet her at the park where we first spoke.

- OK. See you lot in a few.

Éclair pocketed her phone once more and made tracks for the meeting place.

Sure enough, Ciel was at the park waiting in anticipation for Éclair's arrival. The minute Ciel laid eyes on her, she ran over and embraced her with crushing force.

“I’m so excited we finally get to hang out!” She shouted as she bounced back and forth on her feet. “come on! I’ll take you back to our place.” She grabbed Éclair’s hand and led her away. Once they reached an alley between two buildings with an emergency fire escape, Ciel leapt up and pulled herself onto the first landing. “It will be faster if we take the high road.” Éclair quickly picked up on where Ciel was going with this. She immediately followed suit and climbed up after her all the way to the roof top. From there Ceil led Éclair across the city , hopping between the closely constructed buildings and scuttling along scaffolding. When they reached the roof of their destination, they descended the fire escape a few floors and entered a window.

They emerged into an open livingroom/ foyer area where the rest of Le Fierte were scattered about. Dauphin was lying face down on the floor, shirtless , with Etoile straddling his backside, applying the finishing touches on a beautiful yet grizzly tattoo on his back. Éclair stood over them to better inspect the behemoth masterpiece. Depicted in flesh and ink was an image of a felled angel being feasted upon by a phoenix in a magnificent thunder storm.

“Hello Éclair.” Dauphin purred turning his head to meet her gaze. “I’m so glad you could drop by.” Etoile gave Dauphin’s back one final wipe down to remove the excess ink and blood before dismounting and dismissing him.

“ That’s a pretty tattoo. You did a great job on it.” Éclair praised Etoile who responded with a signed thank you. The muscles on Dauphin’s well sculpted body flexed and rippled as he pushed himself up off the ground to his feet and Éclair noticed the tattoo on his back wasn’t the only ink he was sporting. He also had a star-scape image of a lion surrounding the constellation Leo on the left side of his chest . He wasn’t the only one who bore this mark either. All of the women had the same tattoo in the same location. “ Wow! You guys are big on ink I take it.”

“You could say that I suppose. Personally I find it helps detract from my blaschko patterns.” He explained gesturing to the areas of his torso that were naturally pigmented more heavily. Dauphin’s comment confused Éclair primarily because she was unfamiliar with the phrase he’d used.

“ Your what?” She inquired hoping for an explanation she could understand. Dauphin simply laughed briefly before going into detail .

“ I’m what’s referred to as a chimera. In a sense I am my own twin. I have two sets of DNA, so I have two skin tones, two hair colors, and two eye colours.”

“Oh! That’s pretty cool! And I suppose tattoos are a more permanent and less messy way to cover it up if it bothers you so much.”

“ It’s just my skin I don’t like. I’m actually kinna fond of my hetorochromia.” Dauphin clarified with a wink.

“Does the tattoo on your back have a special meaning? Or is it just some of Etoile’s wicked art?” Éclair asked as she took in the numerous paintings around the apartment. As soon as the words passed her lips, a subtle yet still palpable solemnness befell the room.

“It’s to honor the greatest loves of my life.” He replied. Éclair realized from the tone in his voice that this wasn’t exactly a topic he wanted to discuss further.

“I see….. what else do guys around here?” She attempted to change the subject and clear the air of its current weight. After an awkward moment, Ciel piped up.

“Well, as you can see” Etoile likes to paint. I’m a singer and Dauphin plays the guitar.” She pointed to a beautiful blue and purple custom guitar resting on a stand in the corner. “ Luna made that. Blanche’s thing is clay. She makes flutes and ocarinas.”

“Given the amount of destruction in our past, it’s nice to create for a change.” Blanche said in her most calming voice.

“Yeah, plus people pay good money for our work!” Luna added both genuinely and humorously to which the collective agreed with laughter.

“Really?” Éclair whined with just the slightest pang of jealousy. “I’m not allowed to earn any income since I don’t technically exist.”

“Technically neither do any of us.” Dauphin admitted. “That’s why we earn all our money under the table so to speak. Cash only transactions.”

“Then how do you have an apartment? Don’t you need ID and stuff?” Éclair only had a minimal understanding of how a lot of things worked but she had done enough research into what was needed for her own independence to know something didn’t add up here.

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to overlook when they get desperate enough. See, something really bad happened here nearly a decade ago. Something so bad the landlord is required to disclose such to potential tenants. Something so bad nobody would live here.” Luna began to tell the tale as if she were telling ghost stories around a camp fire.

“ Basically this apartment represents a financial drain on the landlord. So we have an arrangement with him that we’ll stay here but only if he dropped the cost and agreed to forgo the traditional renters agreement.” Dauphin butted in, cutting to the chase.

“Oh, you’re no fun! I wanted to tell her about the woman who got butchered by the serial killer!” Luna sulked loudly and Dauphin gave her a scolding look.

“Wait, if you don’t exist in the eyes of the government like me, how do you have cell phones?” Éclair asked as if the previous revelation was daily gossip.

“We’re not the only ones in the city who wish to remain anonymous.” Blanche alluded vaguely. “How about I make some tea for everyone and you have a seat.” Dauphin put his arm around Éclair's shoulder, led her to one of the couches and seated her next to him.

“I’m sure you have a lot of burning questions, and we did promise you answers. Unfortunately we can’t give you all of them at this time.” Dauphin confessed. “ There are some answers that are long overdue, and I’d like to rectify that, but first I have a few questions of my own id like you to answer.”

“OK.” Éclair shrugged.

“The man you were with last night. Who is he?” Dauphin asked trying to hide the possessiveness in his voice.

“He’s my boyfriend, Spencer!” She replied without hesitation . Then it dawned on her. “Wait, I never saw you last night, how did you know I was with him?”

“ As you know, we’ve been way out for some time now. I know where you live. I came over to talk to you but I saw you with him and you two were getting quite… comfortable. So I thought it best not to.” Dauphin explained. “Are you sure you can trust him?”

“I think so, yeah. Unlike Dr. Jericho, who is the only person truly scares me, Spencer makes me feel safe. He has a heart of gold. Its something in his eyes that tells me so.” Éclair swooned. Dauphin seemed slightly taken back by her logic but didn’t question it.

“Very well then. If he has your trust, then he has ours. Maybe in time we can meet him properly.” Dauphin conceded. He retrieved his guitar and took up playing. “ Your turn. What questions do you have?” At this point Blanche returned with the tea.

“A lot actually. I’m not sure where to start.” Éclair admitted.

“How about we start small. The basics. We have all the time in the world now that you’re back with us.” Dauphin advised.

“OK. The other day you called me your sister. Are we actually related? Like anyone here?”

“No. We are siblings by circumstance, not by blood.”

“ Why is there no record of me anywhere? No driver’s license, no employment records, not even a birth certificate.”

“None of us have that. For starters, our births were never documented anywhere legitimately, and until about eight months ago, we never truly saw the light of day.”

“Who would do something like that? And why?”

“There’s a lot of bad people who do a lot of bad things out there, Éclair. Some do it for money. Others for personal gratification.” Dauphin explained as he shifted his strumming from random cords to Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

“Are the people who kept us still out there?” Éclair asked wearily.

“Possibly. If so, I hope we don’t run into them until we’re able to take them down for good.” Éclair was quiet for a moment, just listening to Dauphin play before she spoke up again.

“One more, unrelated question. What’s your guitar’s name?” Her question caught him off guard.

“Name?”

“ Yeah. Lurch says every guitarist names their guitar.” She explained emphatically. Dauphin thought hard about her statement, looking back and forth between her and the guitar before the glint of an epiphany came to his eyes.

“ Tonnerre.” He said simply.

“So… are you done with the heavy convo topics? ‘Cuz if so, I wanna hear more about sis’s boyfriend. The rest of us weren’t with Dauphin when he saw you two together. ” Ciel cut in tentatively. Éclair eagerly pulled out her phone and showed off her pictures of him and fauned over him, discussing his career and intelligence. Off to the side Dauphin was having a silent conversation with Etoile via sign.

“Aww! He’s adorable! He reminds me of a baby burrowing owl!” Ciel cooed.

“No he doesn’t! He’s a man, he doesn’t look like an owl.” Luna countered.

“Agreed. He is rather handsome, with an innocence about him, but I wouldn’t liken him to a baby owl. That’s just odd.” Blanche concurred.

“ It’s funny you said owl though. Today he was wearing and outfit that made him look like a character in animal crossing who’s an owl.” Éclair said with a bashful giggle. “And he does this thing when he’s really into whatever he’s talking about where he stretches himself out taller and rocks up onto his tippy toes kinna like a bird looking into the distance.” She added endearingly. Ciel and Blanche tittered over Éclair’s affectionate gushing.

“See! He’s totally an owl! Your little Hibou. It’s funny cuz he’s your boo!” Ciel broke out into a fit of laughter at her own joke.

“That is a cute nickname, Hibou. I like it! I’m going to use it!” Éclair proclaimed as she joined Ciel in her elation.

“That’s it. I’m out. You girls are getting too mushy for me.” Luna said as she returned to the opposing couch.

A loud default alarm sounded from Éclair’s phone and a notification came across the screen reminding her she was due for her meds.

“I need to go. Can someone show me how to get home?” Éclair announced as she rose to her feet.

“ I can!” Ciel exclaimed jumping up. Dauphin nodded to her in a show of consent.

“We’ll be in touch yeah? Hopefully soon we can give you more answers.” Dauphin said as he approached her and wrapped her up in an embrace.

“Sounds great! I’ll see you around!” She said Following Ciel out the window.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #fanfic

[rosiesared]

reddest red (all these flowers bloom)

for @ladrienjune day 2: wingwoman alya

on ao3 here: When Ladybug had cracked open the chest where all her secrets lied, letting Alya in - the first time she did that with another person, this wasn’t quite what she was expecting - standing, completely soaked, on a slippery tile roof, droplets of water plastering her hair to her face.

Static sounded in her right ear, followed by said best friend’s voice. “Okay, Ladybug, I’m getting intel that the target is heading in your direction. Prepare to get into position.”

Ladybug chuckled, at least someone was enjoying this. “Is someone actually handing you this “intel” or are you just scrolling through twitter? Be honest with me.” 

“The latter, mostly, but still! Buttercup gains on you with every second and you have to be ready this time.”

“I’m pretty sure Buttercup will still be here after the rain clears up…” 

Through her earpiece, she’s alerted to the sound of a door slamming, and a chorus of indistinguishable voices gaining in intensity.

“Oh, shit, forgot that I’m on babysitting duty tonight. Guess you’re on your own now. Let me know how it goes!” With a buzz of white noise, she was gone. 

And Ladybug was alone. 

She sighed. She thought she looked a little sad, honestly - standing in the rain, the hand that isn’t holding her yoyo clutching a freshly-picked red rose, so tightly that if it weren’t for her supersuit, she was sure that the thorns would have nicked her palm, spilling drizzles of crimson onto the storm-coloured rooftop. 

Maybe if that were the case, she’d be in enough pain to soften the blow of any rejection. It was enough that she was terrified of confessing to him as herself, but letting him know as Ladybug? 

She didn’t know why Alya thought this would work any more than one of Marinette’s own plans.

A gust swept past her, plucking a sole petal off the rose. Ladybug watched as it hovered, tossed and turned by the winter gale, darting left, right, up and down, in an choreographed expression of indecision - before it lowered, slowly at first, before another push from the wind and it rapidly descended, landing…

Water glistened on the surface of his shoes, reflecting the light of a nearby streetlamp like a sparkling gemstone. 

… right in front of Adrien. 

And judging by the way he squinted up in her direction, it was no surprise that he had connected the dots between the rose petal at his feet, and the whole flower still tightly gripped in her palm. As she came to that conclusion herself, Ladybug backpedalled, taking a step, and then another one.

“Ladybug, watch out!” 

Her foot met nothing but air, and she felt her weight tilt behind her, and for the split-second before she threw her yo-yo out in a fit of self-defence, she fell. 

Somehow, she didn’t think her “mission” could get any worse. 

Or at least, it seemed that way until she was all of a sudden sharing the same patch of pavement as he was, and his face was all she could see. 

Adrien’s hands slowly reached out, gently teasing her fingers away from the thorns, and sliding them along the stem until the pad of every finger was touching a smooth portion of green. 

Green. Like the colour his eyes were when they looked at her, eyes soft, brows creased. 

“Careful,” he said, and Ladybug’s mind was drawn to his voice like it was a healing balm, “you’ll cut yourself.”  

She stared, transfixed by the feeling of his hands interwoven with hers, all the callouses magnified as they skipped across her porcelain-smooth suit. 

They both stood there, hands sliding against one another, the sounds of the city around them dulled to by the magnificence of being in each other’s company, or at least, in her opinion. 

“I- thank you for healing me. I mean, helping me! Because you helped me. With the rose. Just now. What else would I be talking about? ahaha” 

“Yeah, it was no problem at all! Always happy to help,my l-love.” Adrien’s cheeks were so pink, if she hadn’t been there to witness their change of colour herself, she would’ve thought he was wearing makeup.

“Your love?” 

“Guess that’s what I said!” 

Well, Ladybug didn’t think this was exactly what Alya had in mind when she unleashed her on the rain, but she couldn’t pass up this opportunity - not when it was staring her in the face like this.  

“I, for one, wouldn’t object to that.”

Her hand grabbed onto his, feeling his warmth spread to her like the heat of a furnace, and the rose fell, forgotten, petals detaching and swirling around in the shimmering puddles, dousing the floor in a flurry of red. 

Maybe, ladybugs were lucky, after all. 

#cookie writes #me being a full day behind #its okay ghfdkgjfl' #i still have time to catch up ig #anyway LOL i wrote alya out far too early ngl hgkfdhgdf #but yeah im exhausted and this has been written so i think my work here is done? #ladrien #ladrien june #ladrien june 2022 #ml

[rahabs]

(Disclaimer: despite the start, this isn’t actually a post about OFMD, but about historical fiction media vs history, and interacting with historical “characters” vs. historical figures accordingly).

I think I went in with the fundamental flaw of expecting a little bit more from Our Flag Means Death owing to the utter hype on my dash.  I liked the central relationship between Blackbeard and Stede, but I lost patience with a lot (most) of the side characters fairly early on (especially since the show paid so much attention to the trio from Stede’s crew with plotlines that sort of abruptly dropped/went nowhere, which I felt greatly detracted from his story/character arc), and I did feel a bit like they started to overshadow the central plot/conflict/arc between the two main characters.  I assume the show was filmed on a budget (because it shows, especially with the water animation/CGI), but that didn’t really bother me overmuch, I was just a bit surprised initially.  The point of this post though is I’m getting a laugh from the surge of people being up in arms/extremely upset about the fact the show used real historical characters as a base instead of just making up some entirely fictional pirates, and people being up in arms suddenly about the “fandomification of real historical people”.  I’ve seen this phrase (and if not the exact phrase, which I have seen from multiple people, then certainly the same sentiment) on multiple posts in different fandoms arising from historical fiction media (Our Flag Means Death, The Tudors, The Terror, Wolf Hall, The Spanish Princess, Hamilton, Les Miserables, The White Princess/Queen, Reign, Magnificent Century, Spartacus, The Borgias, Domina, Bridgerton, et al), always by people who, when I end up browsing their blogs, embrace the “rules for thee, not for me” mindset--that is, they whinge about people doing it when it annoys them but in the same breath they’ll go “but it’s okay in XYZ circumstance/fandom that I like/agree with.”

As an actual historian I definitely like... get it.  Sometimes I go into the tags and I just want good historical posts about the historical figure, not the media portrayal of that character (and I’ve whinged about it before myself--I distinctly remember a much younger Chey complaining about too much Benedict Cumberbatch (sp?) in the Richard III tag).  There are also definitely people who take it too far and genuinely think the fictional portrayal of a historical figure is in and of itself the historical figure in question, which isn’t the case at all, and get very creepy, obsessive, etc about it, but also... all historical fiction media is, in a sense, fanfiction--or rather, since I don’t think labelling historical media as “fanfiction” is correct for a variety of reasons that someone else has already explained better than I could, at least shares elements of fanfiction, even if the two aren’t quite the same thing, and I think it’s important to remember that and not bite our thumb/thumb our noses at people who get interested in these historical-figures-as-fictional-characters as a result.

People need to understand, fundamentally, that the portrayal of a character in a piece of historical fiction media is never going to be (wholly) accurate to the historical figure themselves, and therefore you must have enough maturity to not conflate the two.  Love the semi-fictional character (because ultimately that is what they are in a way: a fictional character inspired by a real life historical figure) and be interested in the real historical figure, but do not conflate the two.  The Henry VIII of The Tudors fame is not the reality of the actual Henry VIII.  James Fitzjames in The Terror is not actually the James Fitzjames who really lived and died in the arctic.  Blackbeard from OFMD is not the Edward Teach of reality.  Etc.  You need to have the maturity to do this and interact respectfully with the historical figure in the course of your research and not let your modern notions colour and ultimately supersede your interpretation of the historic past to the point where you’re substituting their reality with your own.

Likewise, don’t be a condescending, gatekeeping snob and immediately dismiss people who like the fictional media portrayal of a historical character, and don’t immediately assume, from atop your cloud/pedestal/whatever high place you’ve put yourself, that just because people are “fandomifying/blorbifying/woobifying” (henceforth to be referred to as “verbifying”) a fictional character means they cannot draw the line or acknowledge the difference between the historical fiction media portrayal and the person who genuinely used to live and breathe.  The funny thing is that a lot of the people who gatekeep like this are themselves the ones incapable of distinguishing between the real and fictional historical figure; that is, they automatically assume that someone verbifying the fictional portrayal of the character automatically means the person must be verbifying the historical figure as well.  Then they try to justifying what is ultimately gatekeeping by trying to list a bunch of exceptions, etc.  A lot of these people also generally end up falling into the pit of “if it’s not wholly accurate in every way it’s not worth watching, just make it about made up characters if you’re not going to be Accurate to the Letter” (and then being hypocritical by making exceptions for media/people they like) and expressing those sentiments even if they don’t mean to, but that is another can of worms that I’m not going to get into in this post for fear of derailing the argument.  I’m also not ashamed to admit that for a brief period of time I also carried beliefs like that, because I was young and dumb (late teens, very early twenties).  There’s also nothing inherently wrong with making a show only loosely based off of history and using historical names.  Yes, they could have just “made up some fictional characters,” but they don’t have to, and as long as the showrunners/novel writers don’t go around saying “my piece of media is so accurate, everyone, complete historical accuracy” (was that a small dig at a certain Tudor novel writer?  Perhaps), then there is nothing inherently wrong with that--people have been doing it since the dawn of fiction and theatre.  The onus is not on a piece of media to think critically for you, or do all the thinking for you in general.  That’s how we get today’s incredibly preachy (mostly American) media, which thinks its audience needs to be spoonfed everything and cannot think for itself because people keep showing that they’re terrible at engaging critically with media.  You as the consumer have the responsibility to think maturely and critically.  The main fault in OMFD isn’t the fact that Blackbeard and Stede are only “loosely” based around their historical counterparts--there’s nothing wrong with that, and (to be controversial) it’s also not inherently disrespectful.  The fault comes from people who then take these fictional interpretations, don’t think critically about it, and assume the real historical figures must have been the same, or the “no fun ever” stick-in-the-mud types who think (or imply they think through their words and engagements) that only totally accurate historical media is worth producing--or, as I see frequently, the sort of person who thinks a loose interpretation of history is all right for the media pieces they like (eg. Hamilton, to list an example I have seen in about twenty different OFMD-critical posts), but not for the ones they don’t like (eg. Our Flag Means Death), and then try to justify their reasoning.

Interacting meaningfully/critically with historical media and the historical figures it’s based off of requires an element of mental maturity and the ability to critically think.  You must be able to distinguish that a piece of historical media (in any form) based off of a historical event/historical person is not and does not necessarily represent the reality of that historical period or the historical figures themselves.  No matter how much (or how little) attention is paid to detail, there will always be elements of fiction/dramatization (and there’s nothing inherently wrong with that), and you need to understand that a fictional character is not their fictional counterpart.  Do not conflate the two.  Verbify your historical fiction counterpart all you want, but be careful when approaching the actual history, or your preconceived notions and biases will colour everything and potentially perpetuate harmful stereotypes about the historical figure in question (I see a lot of this with Tudor-era fictional portrayals vs. their historical counterparts and it hurts).  On the other hand, don’t automatically assume that because someone verbifies a fictional portrayal of a historical figure, they must do the same to the actual historical figure.  I’ve also seen some bizarre takes of people criticizing a piece of historical fiction media for essentially being inaccurate or unfaithful to the historical figures/perpetrating inaccurate perceptions among people who watch it and then turning around and saying that that’s okay for other pieces of historical media for contrived reasons, so don’t do that either, please.

In the interest of not turning this into my second postgrad thesis I will leave it with this: that historical media is important.  Without historical media (television shows, movies, historical fiction novels, comics, video games, the list goes on) many people would not be exposed to these eras of history, or the historical figures themselves.  They would not develop an interest, and without people being interested, no other pieces of historical media would be made.  It’s critical.  I have multiple degrees in historical and classics, part of what fuelled my love of all things history from a young age was reading historical novels.  Then, as I got older, more television shows started being made (because people were interested), which fuelled my existing love or ignited new loves or made me remember old loves.  Historical media based off of history is crucial and allows history to reach audiences it might not have otherwise, and I will forever die on this hill and defend people getting into things via a piece of historical media, but also i) please do remember that historical media is ultimately a work of reality-inspired-fiction (even if loosely inspired) and tailor your interactions with the real history accordingly; ii) don’t condescend towards people who developed an interest in the actual history via a piece of historical media (and remember it’s highly likely that that was your introduction to some form of history, too).

#long post #history #text #Consume historical media responsibly; don't be a rude person; #Don't assume that because someone likes OFMD/The Terror/The Tudors/insert-media-here that they cann't distinguish between fiction and realit #Likewise make sure you CAN distinguish between fiction and reality

[stanley578]

Journeys with Balan - Chapter 6: I Am Who I Am

Two weeks have passed since Balan gave an ecstatic performance on stage. I've been very busy rehearsing at a magical dance studio, doing my absolute best with the moves that I learned from several artists and some that I came up with for my solo number. It was a real struggle to memorize all the moves but thankfully, Balan's encouragement motivated me to keep going. For our duo dance number, we discussed various ideas on what kind of choreography we wanted to have. We disagreed on some ideas from time to time, which inevitably happens when working with someone on something grand and fantastic. Eventually, we came up with ideas that worked for both of us. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and we just finished rehearsing.

"Just remember what I told you, Peyton. Take deep breaths and pretend no one is watching you", Balan reminded as he took off his top hat and wiped his head with a towel.

"Balan, the theater is almost always empty", I countered as I drank water from a bottle.

"That's exactly the point. Now, if in the actual performance you make any mistakes, commit this old saying to memory: The show must go on", he stated, putting his hat back on.

"I'll keep that in mind", I concurred whilst nodding my head.

"Nothing comes across as perfect, especially in the art of theatre. You just have to carry on and have fun with it", he advised whilst placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Can't argue with that", I furthered.

"By the way, You look lovely dancing in high heels. They make you look fierce", he complimented with a wink and a flirtatious grin.

"Thanks! I learned it from someone who has a magnificent fashion sense", I replied whilst blushing.

"And who might that be?", he teasingly asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"It's you, silly! Who else?", I answered with a chuckle whilst placing my hand on his cheek.

"Haha, I'm just kidding. At any rate, that's so sweet of you to say, darling", he said as he blushed in return.

"Speaking of sweet, shall we go out and unwind for dessert?", I suggested.

"Why, sure!", he happily exclaimed as we exited the studio.

Balan and I were at an ice cream parlour, enjoying our choice of desserts. He ate a red velvet cheesecake parfait with blueberries, raspberries, and whipped cream while I ate ube gelato topped with pinipig, corn flakes, and grated white cheddar cheese. We tried each other's desserts and we liked how amazing they tasted.

"So Peyton. Do you still feel nervous about your highly-awaited performance tonight?", Balan queried.

"Eh... a bit, but I'm quite excited. Two weeks of rehearsing are enough to gain the confidence that I need and conquer my stage fright", I responded.

"That's great to hear! Considering that your singing has also improved over time, I know in my heart that you will do well", he affirmed.

"You know what? You're right! I may be able to pull off a performance that's going to be as cool as yours", I agreed as I intertwined my own hands.

"That's the spirit, dear!", he exclaimed whilst clenching his fists.

"Hell to the motherfucking yes!", I avidly stated whilst clapping my hands.

"Listen. About the argument that we had back then. I just want to apologize for the times when I interfered. I know that you want this performance to be stellar but I got carried away that I ended up hurting you. I'm deeply sorry", he explained with a feeling of regret.

"You had good intentions, Balan. I totally understand that it's your duty to help others. I fully placed my trust in you and all I'm asking is for you to trust me. It's water under the bridge. I forgive you", I reassured with a smile, placing my hand on top of his and rubbing my thumb gently.

"Thank you, dear", he expressed with a sense of relief as we shared a hug.

"Now, let's finish our desserts and get some R&R at the isle", I said.

"Alright", he replied.

Back at the Isle of Tims, I was playing with Tori and a bunch of colourful Tims while Balan was chilling in mid-air. Tori was on top of my head while two Tims were on my lap, hopping and chirping adorably, and another two were resting beside me.

"You furballs seem to be always hungry. Can't get enough of these irresistible snacks, huh", I remarked as I fed the two Tims with Drops that they munched and crunched on.

"Hmmm, I wonder what this tastes like", I curiously thought to myself whilst holding a yellow Drop.

I licked it and felt disappointed that it didn't have a flavour. As I bit into it, the texture turned out to be as hard as glass. Not wanting to chip my teeth, I stopped biting and lifted my hand up to give it to Tori. I wore a smile as I pet each Tim which made them emit the cutest of coos. I looked up at the sky to appreciate the beautiful sunset. It led me to remember the day I took a walk in the park before encountering Tori and settling down at the theatre.

"Are you having fun, dear?", Balan enquired as he approached me.

"I certainly am", I answered.

"It's almost nighttime. Let's head to the bedroom to get you prepared", he said as he reached out his hand.

"Okay", I complied as I put Tori down and he helped me get up.

"Farewell, little ones! We'll see you soon", he bade them.

"Bye, Tori and co!", I bade as well.

"Timu timu timu!", Tori and the Tims chirped at us and they hopped away.

"Who knew their beaks are strong enough to break down Drops", I reflected as we held hands and walked.

"Why, yes! Only they can digest their favourite treat, which isn't fit for human consumption", he clarified.

"That explains why it has no flavour", I realized.

"You took a bite, didn't you?", he teasingly asked whilst gently nudging my elbow.

"I did, but don't worry. I didn't swallow it whole", I reassured.

"Curiosity can get the best of anyone", he stated.

"You're not wrong on that", I replied.

"I remember some inhabitants who tried to eat Drops. They ended up choking the moment they swallowed it", he recalled.

"Oh dear!", I worriedly expressed.

"But thanks to yours truly, I gave them the Heimlich maneuver that saved their lives", he continued.

"I'm glad they're alright", I responded and let out an allaying sigh.

"Mmhmm. Time and time again, I remind inhabitants that Drops are consumed by Tims and Tims only", he elucidated.

"I appreciate you telling me that", I said.

Once we arrived at the bedroom, Balan opened the door for me to enter, but he remained outside which left me confused.

"Umm, Balan, aren't you coming in?", I queried.

"Yes sweetheart, but I was thinking. While you make the necessary preparations, would it be alright if I go ahead and sit on the front-row seat of the auditorium?", Balan proposed.

"Oh, okay. Not a problem with that", I replied, trying my best not to display a hint of nervousness.

"I'll be waiting for you whenever you're ready. Best of luck to you, darling!", he greeted me as he placed his hand on my cheek.

"Thank you, love. I'll see you later", I greeted him back and we shared a kiss.

As soon as Balan closed the door, my heart began to beat constantly. I placed my hand on my chest, feeling my anxiety kicking in once again. In a state of panic, I walked towards the bed and sat down, panting relentlessly. Not allowing nervousness and my inner demons to get the better of me, I took deep breaths and meditated with my eyes closed. I continued for several minutes until all I could hear was the sound of my breathing.

"Okay, Peyton. Calm down. Remember what Balan told you. Pretend no one's watching and the show must go on. You got this!", I asserted myself.

I opened my eyes, stood up, and opened the wardrobe to decide what outfit I should wear. After minutes of pondering, I took off all of my clothes and wore a red T-shirt with a star design, a hot pink hoodie, sky blue silk gloves, light grey thigh-length shorts, white socks, and 3-inch black high-heeled shoes with intricate floral designs.

I looked at myself in the mirror and did different poses to see if the outfit was suitable. I nodded my head afterwards, feeling satisfied and determined, and with no turning back, I exited the bedroom to go downstairs and entered the backstage area. It was a little dark the moment I walked in and hearing echoes of my footsteps sent shivers down my spine. Good thing I was wearing a hoodie as the temperature was quite chilly. Looking around, I noticed several pieces of equipment that were properly organized.

Suddenly, the drapes opened by themselves, and the spotlights projected on the center. The moment they shined near me, I knew that was the cue for my entrance. I took one more deep breath and strutted fiercely to the stage, making my way towards a modern microphone. As I looked at the audience seats, I saw Balan sitting in front with his legs crossed, grinning with joyful eyes wide open at the sight of my outfit. He gazed down, blushing as he adored the design of my heels.

"Good evening, Balan. Thank you so much for patiently waiting and I hope you enjoy this performance tonight", I introduced with a smile.

"WOOHOO! Go, Peyton! I believe in you!", Balan cheered whilst clapping his hands with his arms up.

"Alright. On with the show", I clearly uttered.

Once the music began playing, I sang the following songs: Amar Pelos Dois by Salvador Sobral, Just Say Yes by Snow Patrol, If My Heart Was a House by Owl City, As I Try Not to Fall Apart by White Lies, and Tout l'Univers by Gjon's Tears.

As I sang whilst holding the microphone, I occasionally moved around the stage by walking slowly and did a little dance depending on the mood of each song. I looked at Balan at certain moments, making him feel awestruck and touched by my way of connecting with him.

Afterwards, I put the microphone back on its stand and took a few steps back to watch it disappear. My solo number was next and I danced to the following songs: Time by Jack Garratt, Church Girl by Laura Mvula, and The Upside by Lindsey Stirling featuring Elle King.

I was having the time of my life and the flashing party lights and staging brought life to the music that I was grooving to. With Balan out of his seat, he got himself prepared for our duo dance number and immediately entered the stage. The next songs that we danced to were the following: Lullaby by Sigala and Paloma Faith, LUCID by Rina Sawayama, and Sister Ray by Foxes.

We incorporated our choreography with a combination of sassy elements and graceful styles that not only bring out the best in us but also allowed me to spread my wings and become the person that I truly am. Dancing with the most enchanting maestro was an amazing dream that finally came true. It initially felt like a surreal experience but the more I performed with Balan on stage, the happier I truly was. Once our performance came to a conclusion, lots of confetti started falling from above and the stage lit up entirely.

"Peyton, words can't express how incredibly proud I am of you. This was out of this world!", Balan highly praised as tears of joy welled up in his eyes.

"Thank you so much, Balan! Just as I said last time, this is my way of giving back to you", I sincerely expressed as I began to shed tears as well.

"I am deeply flattered", he admitted as we shared a warm and tight embrace.

Balan and I laughed as he lifted me up and twirled me around to celebrate the success of tonight's performance. He put me down gently and we locked lips one more time.

"Well done, dear! You did it!", Balan exclaimed as he couldn't stop grinning.

"No, Balan. We did it! None of this would be possible if it weren't for your never-ending support", I countered as I smiled back at him.

"Shall we celebrate with a nice hot bath?", he suggested.

"Sounds lovely! Followed by a classy dinner?", I proposed.

"You read my mind", he replied with a wink whilst giving a thumbs up.

With that, Balan snapped his finger to make the stage completely spotless and we exited the stage by strutting confidently. It was an incredible evening like no other and I'm so glad that all the hard work paid off. From here on out, I learned to further love and accept myself for who I am. Whenever I feel like wanting to perform again, I could always go to the stage to make beautiful memories with the love of my life.

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