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#and that 'lot of money on that bed' was maybe their collective earnings that they had each made separately
nachosncheeze · 2 years
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Question for the gallery!
Was it ever actually specified that Clem and Jane's "Over a dozen jobs together, all successful" (3x11) took place over the 6 months? Or is that ONLY inference based on his "That's just in six months, imagine what a couple years would look like" (3x10) comment?
I don't know why I didn't clock it before, but I'm giffing, and in the 3x10 "Ten Months Ago" flashback, the very first thing Clem says to her is:
You again.
So clearly they've run into each other on jobs at least once before. He didn't get her name until that day ten months ago in Paris, after Dwire shot them, though.
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happilyhertale · 6 months
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A spark of hope – Tom Bennett x female!reader
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Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Misogyny
Author’s note: Your life is always the same - you help your mother out in the pub and earn money from other activities on the side. But at some point, you reach a point where maybe you don't want to do all that anymore.
English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: Word count: 3.9k
Other stories of mine
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Cigarette smoke envelops you, but you move through it almost elegantly, empty glasses in your hand. Tonight is busy, but that also means there will be a lot of tipping. Music blares from the jukebox as you're back in the safety of your counter. You stand behind it and start cleaning the glasses you just collected. As the door to the pub swings open and more drunk young guys stumble in. They laugh and you don't really understand what they are saying before they burst out laughing again. When the blond one of the guys comes towards you.
"Good evening, milady," he says, visibly drunk. You can already tell how annoyed you are, but you smile nonetheless.
"What can I do for you?" you ask with feigned friendliness.
He grins, "Well... First, I'd settle for a beer," he slurs. You turn away smiling, but sigh as you draw his beer. You ignore his next attempts to make you laugh. Practiced by all the other guys who keep trying to get your attention, you have no problem with it. Besides, your end of the day is approaching and that clearly depresses your mood, but distracts you. Your colleague comes in and you sigh, but you nod at her and smile. Maria walks past tables on her way to the counter, taking away empty glasses as she goes. But before you can have a conversation with her, the door opens again. The blond guy is still watching you. But now you have work to do. You grab your stuff and walk up to the man who has just entered the pub. He puts his arm around your waist almost naturally and leads you out.
He lies on top of you, his hips thrusting into you again and again. His deep moans don't make it any better. But you're moaning too, trying to spur him on so he can finish. When he looks into your face, you close your eyes with passion and moan loudly, showing him how good he is. He moans loudly and grunts as he reaches his climax. He breathes heavily but rolls off you. He lies next to you, his eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath again. Your gaze is fixed on the ceiling, trying to feel a comforting sensation inside you, or at least push away the shame. When you hear a soft snore, you slowly stand up. You don't look back and quickly disappear into the bathroom to freshen up. Even faster you get dressed and take the money from the table. Quietly you leave the flat. You walk through the dark streets. It is warm and a gentle breeze blows around you as you look up. You see individual windows that are brightly lit. The lights have an almost calming effect on you. As you reach your house, you open the door. Your eyes fall into the kitchen, where your mother is sitting at the kitchen table. She is drinking a cup of tea and almost relaxed, smoking a cigarette.
"Oh, you're still awake?" you ask your mother. You put the money on the table.
"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," she says to you. She crosses her legs slightly and lets one leg bob.
"Oh, is that your tip? Keep that to yourself... You earned it," your mom says to you, looking up at you.
You hesitate, but then smile, "Nah, that's the leftover money from babysitting," you lie to your mom.
"Met Paul on the way home and he gave it to me" you say and slowly walk out of the kitchen.
"Oh well... All right... sleep well, little one," your mother calls after you.
You give her a gentle smile before retreating into the cosy confines of your room. As you prepare to lie down in your warm bed, your thoughts inexplicably drift to the memory of the forward and somewhat annoying person you met earlier in the pub. Although you cannot explain why he is so preoccupying you at this moment, you simply roll onto your side and surrender to the soothing call of sleep.
The next evening, you're back in the pub. You hang around for a while and serve the usual guests. But the conversations and loud laughter that fill the pub don't really pull you out of your thoughts.
Until the guy from yesterday enters the pub again and you sigh slightly. He walks up to you and grins.
"Hello my beautiful," he says.
You look at him wordlessly. Out of sheer habit, you try to read from his gaze what he really wants from you. Does he just want to be nice or does he want to become a next customer?
"What can I do for you?" you ask him with feigned friendliness.
"Well, that depends on what ya can give me," he says cheekily. You look at him slightly irritated, but before you can answer, he interrupts you.
"Ah, just give me a Guinness," he says. This clear and unintentional answer leaves you speechless for a moment. But you clear your throat and comply with his request.
„A pint of Guinness? On the way“, you say and turn around.
You serve him a Guinness and watch as he hesitantly clasps the glass with his hand.
"My name's Tom, by the way," he says with a smile.
"Well, hello Tom," you say, watching his face contort as he drinks his Guinness. You have to laugh slightly, "Don't you like Guinness?" you ask.
"Not really," he says and bravely takes another sip
"Then why are you ordering it?" you ask with a laugh, wanting to put him out of his misery. But as you reach for the beer, he playfully pushes your hand away.
"Hands off," he says with a smile.
"This will ensure that I don't finish the beer so quickly and stay sitting here longer," he says with a slight wink.
You blush slightly but laugh lightly anyway.
"You're silly," you say, but have to smile slightly.
"I never said otherwise," Tom says, drinking again with a disgusted look on his face.
You have to laugh again and Tom smiles at you. A hint of joy is written on his face as he hears you laugh.
"Do you have a name too?" he asks you after taking another sip.
You smile at him, "Y/n," you tell him.
"Hello y/n," Tom says, "Have a drink with me," he says.
But you shake your head slightly, "No... Not while I'm working," you say with a smile.
And tonight you have a lot to do. Almost countless guests are pouring into the pub and the prospect of making it alone seems almost impossible. But with unwavering determination, you dance back and forth between the tables, deftly noting the orders and clearing away the empty glasses. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, Tom remains steadfast, his fingers holding the glass of Guinness, and his eyes never taking his eyes off your tireless performance.
As the evening draws to a close and the tide of guests gradually ebbs, a palpable sigh of relief escapes your lips. But just as you toy with the idea of locking up, the door swings open again, announcing the arrival of an unexpected guest. Instinctively, you consider simply saying you were about to close up, but as you turn around, you find yourself frozen in shock for a moment.
‚Not him again...‘ you think.
The guy smiles at you, "Hi sweetie..." he just says and you sigh.
You turn around to Tom, who is still sitting there, and try to smile slightly.
"I have to go, Tom…," you say quietly.
Tom's gaze lingers on you and finally settles on the man who has just entered the pub. But you see Tom nod slightly. But still, you recognize the subtle nuances in Tom's facial expression that betray an unmistakable dislike, a deep lack of trust toward the guy.
Tom rises slowly and leans forward slightly. He presses a tender kiss to your cheek. In that fleeting moment, you feel the gentle caress of his breath, causing a subtle tingling sensation. It's such a tender sensation that you instinctively bite your lip, an intimate reaction hidden from all but the keenest observers.
"Until next time," he says softly.
You nod slightly as he walks past you and the guy and leaves the pub.
The guy grins at you, "Another customer?" he says to you.
"I don't talk about my business," is all you say to him.
You leave the pub and follow the guy to his flat. And again, the time with him is just uncomfortable. He is just disgusting and manages to make you feel disgusted with yourself. He never shows any consideration for you and this time is no different. You lie on the bed and he lies on top of you with his heavy body. He thrusts hard into you and grunts to himself, but not in a way that would increase your arousal. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, but you have a feeling that's exactly what he wants. When he suddenly leans back slightly and looks you in the face, you don't know at first what he wants from you. Until he slaps you across the face and you are sure that is exactly what he wants - to make you scream. You gasp, your face hurts, but you don't give him the satisfaction.
"Don't slap me," you hiss back at him. But he only grabs your throat in response and grunts again. Your eyes grow wide as he squeezes and thrusts into you like crazy. Breathing becomes difficult and you feel panic rising in you, but you can't scream. The hand on your throat makes it impossible for you to let anything but a whimper come out of you. Your hand finally reaches for his, you try to pull it away from your neck. But you seem powerless. Distantly you perceive his light laughter, his thrusts don't let up and you notice how you become sore.
Suddenly you hear him moan loudly and climax. He breathes heavily and you notice how his thrusts subside and his hand around your neck loosens slightly. While he is overwhelmed by his feelings, you don't hesitate for long and push him off you.
"Hey...", he says still breathing heavily. But you hurriedly get dressed as tears come to your eyes. You take the money from the table and leave the flat.
You hurry home and pass your mother without a word. You can't even tell if she spoke to you.
Without a moment's hesitation, you are drawn to the bathroom and the urge for a shower overcomes you. The night hangs on you like a shroud, and you had hoped that the warm stream of water would wash away the burden weighing on your soul. As you surrender to the water's gentle embrace, however, you quickly realize that the longed-for soothing effect fails to materialize. With your eyes closed, you lean against the cool, unyielding tiles of the shower, and your body slowly sinks to the floor. Tears bubble up, mirroring the gentle surge of water that envelops you. At this vulnerable moment, you can no longer bear the weight of your existence and silently plead for release.
The water has grown cold by now, and your tears are also beginning to stop. You muster the strength to reach up and turn off the water. You step out of the shower and wrap your body in the comforting embrace of a soft towel.
As you finally snuggle into the warm sanctuary of your bed, enveloped, your thoughts are still spinning. But the embrace of sleep, hopefully giving you comfort in the quiet of the night, soon envelops you.
The next evening you are again behind the bar of the pub. The absence of Tom casts a shadow over your heart, a faint hint of melancholy. But duty calls, and you resolve to excel once again, if only to escape for a moment the burden of your overwhelming thoughts. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to the spot where Tom sat the night before.
As you say goodbye to the last of your guests after hours of work and walk back to the counter, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. You begin to tend to the few remaining glasses, seeking solace in the mundane rhythm. But then the door swings open again, and you instinctively glance over your shoulder. There he stands, the obnoxious guy, and an unsettling sense of panic spreads through you.
"Today I have no time for you," you say immediately, without waiting to see what he even wants.
But he just smiles, "Oh come on... Yesterday was good, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it..," he says.
"And I don't care, I don't have time today," you say simply. You go behind the counter and start washing the glasses.
He comes closer. Very close. "Oh come on... I could tell you liked it," he says quietly, grinning at you with his crooked smile
You look at him angrily, "I don't know what kind of world you live in. But certainly not one where you could say what pleases a woman," you say.
He slaps you again. You gasp as your face flies to the side. The pain from last night is palpable in your face again.
"You like that, don't you, you whore," he just hisses, "You can't do more than spread your thighs."
"Get the fuck out of here, you bastard," you suddenly hear another voice say.
You look at the door, startled, breathing heavily. The pain has brought tears to your eyes. Your vision is blurred, but Tom is standing there and he doesn't look pleased at all.
The guy turns around, "Get out of here, kid. Wait your turn," he just says unimpressed.
"Oh I think it's my turn," Tom says even louder. He walks up to the guy and grabs him by the collar. The guy turns and gives Tom a swinging punch. You gasp and yell out slightly. Tom stumbles back a little, looking even angrier. His nose is bleeding slightly, but he walks back up to the guy and headbutts him. You hear it crack and slap your hand over your mouth.
"Don't ever touch her again," Tom hisses. He rams his knee into his soft parts so that the guy goes down. He only gasps and cries out slightly. He holds his balls and whimpers.
Tom grabs him by the collar and drags him towards the exit. He gives him another kick and thus transports him outside. You hear him breathing heavily and he closes the door.
He turns to you and sees the look on your face.
"Are ya okay?" he asks you. You nod slightly and reply, "I should be asking you that," you whisper. You take a dish towel and walk towards him. Carefully you dab away the blood, he smiles sheepishly.
"It's nothing," he says softly.
You take his hand and lead him behind the counter. He sits down on a chair and lets you treat him. He watches you closely.
"Who was that," he finally asks. You hesitate at first, afraid he'll find out what you're doing. That he might see you through different eyes.
"Just someone I know," you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. He nods, barely noticeable. When the blood is wiped from his face, you look at him. He grins slightly again.
"What is it?" you ask
"Let me take ya out," he says cheekily.
You laugh lightly.
"No Tom. You don't want that," you say to him. You try to avoid his gaze and feel your chest tighten slightly. As his voice rings out, your gaze meets his blue eyes.
"Why wouldn't I want that?" he whispers, sounding curiously.
"Because... that wouldn't work Tom," you simply say and throw the bloody dish towel into the next corner. But you can still feel his gaze on you.
"Well, as long as I don't have to drink any more Guinness, I don't see why it wouldn't work," he says.
You just look at him, but the smile does not disappear from his face, "That would be the least of your problems," you say quietly.
Tom scrutinises your face for a moment. The way you avoid his gaze and your eyebrows draw together slightly for a brief moment and your brow furrows briefly.
He clears his throat slightly.
"You slept with him, didn't you?" he asks quietly, "For money?" he adds quietly, watching your reaction closely. His gaze does not leave you. Your breath catches in your throat, leaving you wordless for a moment. A blush of shame turns your cheeks scarlet.
"What..? Tom... it's not like that" you stammer.
Tom says nothing for a moment and you fear that he is already judging you.
"You don't know what it's like," you say suddenly.
"When my father died and left me and my mother with this pub.... We have trouble paying all the bills and my mom does so much for me... She gave up so much just to be able to give me a good life..." you say justifying
"And so the least I can do is try to give her something back... Earn some money and..." but you can't continue. Tom silences you with his lips.
You are startled at first, but surrender to his soft lips. Suddenly you feel so close to him as he gets up from the chair and wraps his arms around you. The way your mouths meet is electrifying, his tongue touches yours and makes you whimper slightly. You don't want to miss those lips any more.
"It's okay..." he whispers against your lips after some time.
You look him in the eyes and breathe a little heavily. You cannot believe his words. You need a little time to process his words.
"It's okay...?" you say quietly.
He nods, "It's okay..." he says softly.
He gently caresses your cheek, "And to me, you are so much more than a lady who can spread her thighs," he says softly, smiling slightly.
His slight smile is reflected on your lips. Again, he kisses you. His hand slides into your hair, holding your head gently. "So much more..." he whispers against your lips.
You feel his other hand slide to your hip. He presses you against his body. Your arms slide around his neck as his other hand finds your hip as well. With one movement, he sets you on your counter and you gasp slightly.
"Tom," you gasp, but he silences you with his lips again.
You wrap your legs around his waist as his hands slide along your thighs. His fingertips leave a trail of heat on your soft skin. You gasp slightly as his hands slide under your dress. He looks at you, his lips slightly parted, almost as if he is asking your permission. But instead of answering, you let your lips meet his.
Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly it seems infinitely hot behind the counter. You feel his hand slide to the inside of your thigh and you whimper lightly against his lips. He grips lightly and you feel the pulsation between your legs.
"Tom..." you whimper lightly and you feel a grin forming on his lips. But he doesn't hesitate for long and reaches your wet panties. He presses his fingers against them and you cannot suppress a moan. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to press your hips further against his hand.
"Hmhm, a little needy, eh?" you hear him whisper. A hiss from him follows as you bite his lip lightly.
And suddenly he pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide inside you.
"Well, I shouldn't keep ya waiting then," he murmurs as you moan again.
You let your lips collide with his again and your tongues dance wildly around each other. His fingers work their way into you faster as your fingers work their way around his belt. You try to undo his belt, despite the distraction, and finally manage it. Without hesitation you open his trousers and they slide down his legs. A deep rumble rises in his chest as you slide your hand into his pants. You feel his hard member twitch as you embrace it. Your hand slides up and down as if by itself.
His breathing quickens and you feel the precum already gathering at the tip of his cock. You rub it gently and hear him growl again. Your kiss becomes a little more aggressive and he pulls you closer to him. His fingers don't let up in their thrusts and you feel your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb rubs your sensitive pearl.
But then he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his hot length. Slowly he penetrates you and stretches you bit by bit. You press your face into the crook of his neck as the almost painful feeling turns into pure pleasure. You gasp and moan slightly. Your teeth find their way to his neck and you bite lightly.
Tom's hands slide to your bottom, pressing you further against him as his hips slam against yours.
You are completely in sync, the only sound in the pub is your breathing and the sounds you create together. You are both panting now as your movements become faster and more animalistic.
He hits the sweet spot inside your depths and you moan out. You lean back slightly and watch him thrust into you again and again. His face contorts into a mixture of effort and lust. You hear his heavy breathing and grunts leave him.
You hear every sound, every gasp, every slap of your skin against each other. In the depths of this moment, Tom fixes his gaze with yours, an unspoken declaration that in this fleeting moment his entire universe is focused on a single point: you. The woman who embodies his deepest desires - who he wants more than anything.
But this moment is interrupted when his hands suddenly leave your bottom and slide onto your knees. He moves one of your legs to the side while he brings the other to his shoulder.
"God, Tom!" you moan as you feel his thrusts even deeper. But you only hear his grunts, which never fade.
You brace yourself against the counter with your arms as he penetrates you deeper and deeper.
"Fuck, yea," Tom growls as he feels your pussy begin to clench around his cock. You can't help but whimper and moan and give in to the sensation.
You cry out a little as he pushes you over the edge and the warmth floods you. Your torso falls back a little and his hand slides to your back to hold you in place. He fucks you through your orgasm, pursuing his own climax. When suddenly he groans and squints his eyes. His thrusts become more sloppy as he coats your walls with his seed.
He gasps and thrusts as his thrusts slowly subside. You look at each other, heavily atment. Until you giggle lightly. You lean forward again and kiss him, feeling the light film of sweat over his lip.
"You’re so much more to me…", he whispers against your lips as he pulls you closer again.
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Tag list:
@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @bellaisasleep @snh96 @bcon24 @valeskafics echos-muses
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f4riedimples · 2 months
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MY COLLECTION
pairings: pimp!sam carpenter x f!reader
warnings: mentions of drugs,underage drinking,sexual harassment ,provocation dancing, prostitution
wc: 1241
a/n: hi everyone, just wanted to finally come back since I’ve only been active on wattpad recently. Hope it’s not too bad!
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Oh.
this has to be the worst mistake of your life.
like your whole fucking life. You knew this was a bad idea but you loved Sam so you did it anyways. It took some time convincing but you caved.
you don’t even know why she wanted to start doing this. You were only dancing but even that made you feel a certain type of way because of the way it went.
Sam would invite people over, get them tipsy, get you and the “client” in the room, you would dance, get paid, and that was that.
you didn’t complain since it would bring in a lot of income a week.
On the fourth day you made just 950 dollars in two hours. And it just kept increasing from there. But this didn’t seem worth it anymore.
it all started just a few nights ago. Sam told you who you would take to the room and dance for and that was supposed to be it.
afterwards though you saw the creepy state the guy was giving you. After he paid all his money he tried to grab you but your waist and sit you on the bed.
you immediately got up not feeling comfortable. “No touching, nothing further.” You replied calmly before trying to move past the man and check your earnings.
The dance was quite short but he still paid around 300-400. “Take off your clothes.” He order as he looked you up and down.
you almost froze up in shock and disgust. You knew this would probably happen sooner or later. “That’s not my job.” You denied with a small bit of attitude.
“I’ll give you five dollars, just take your clothes off and fuck me!” He demanded impatiently assuming your it was part of your job or you should go further instead of just selling the fantasy.
“sir, like I said, that’s not my goddamn job.” You didn’t want to raise your voice since this wasn’t a regular. You never know what this man could pull out of do.
Things were getting too intense too fast and you just needed it to stop. As the man tried to get near you again you just wanted to grab the knife hidden in one of the drawers.
just as he was about to reach you, you heard a small bang on the door. “Open. Now.” It was Sam. It was Sam! You immediately ran to the door and unlocked it.
just so no one could sneak in and try to get a free dance with friends, it was a responsibility to lock the door.
Sam immediately came in and glared at the man. “What the hell happened?” She asked already seething. She had heard some of this from outside of the door.
“she won’t fuck me.” The man tried to stay confident even though he knew Sam would be pissed off.
“asshole, she’s a dancer, not sex worker.” Sam hissed before guiding you behind her. It made you feel a bit safer knowing Sam had did something and was here to help you now.
“get out.” Sam said and the man had no choice but to leave. After this Sam immediately stopped the party and everyone went home.
she sat you on the bed and lightly caressed your cheek with her thumb. “princesa, I’m so sorry. Did he hurt you?” Sam asked feeling guilty.
you shook your head only feeling a bit shook up. “No, he didn’t. Thanks for saving me.” You whispered a bit down by the experience.
“There’s no need to thank me. I’ll always protect you from weirdos like that.” She spoke softly before hugging you. You couldn’t help but tear up.
now however you were worried things would be different.
it had been around a month since the whole incident and you were Sam were out on a date. Sam had brought up the idea of bringing in another girl which made you feel a bit jealous.
you never knew if Sam could try to find interest in a new girl. Even though you knew she was joking you couldn’t shake off another feeling you had towards the idea. Fear. Or maybe guilt.
You knew Sam would probably bring in another really young girl desperate for money who wouldn’t know how dangerous this was until it was too late. You couldn’t imagine what could happen.
you couldn’t imagine someone else go through what you did or worse while you stand by participating.
that’s why you had to tell Sam what was on your mind. “Hey Sam? We need to talk about something serious.” you were gonna be open and hope for the better.
Sam immediately got serious and paid close attention. She stare at you still with her usual caring eyes as she waited for you to speak.
“I don’t think I wanna do this. Not anymore or ever again. This whole pimp and dancer thing is just not for me.” Even before you had agreed to do this you knew that even actual strippers or dancers can usually be followed home or harassed by creepy guys.
you knew that some men and other woman felt entitled to seeing more even if that wasn’t on the fine print.
Sam took a tense breath before shooting back. “Are you serious? Like- are you sure that you wanna do this?” Sam was cautious and hesitant not wanting to seem insensitive. She also knew this could lead to lots of troubles.
she tried to respect you and what you wanted. She tried not to be so blinded by the money. At the end of the day you were still her girlfriend.
“yes.” Your voice was soft and you almost felt bad. You didn’t want to disappoint Sam but you also wanted to put yourself first.
“then okay. That’s how it’ll go. I’m just surprised because you seemed to enjoy it especially when the nights were late.” Something about Sam’s last sentence caught you off guard.
on late nights you would decide to get a little extra tipsy to loosen up your nerves but not because you wanted to do more with these clients. “Excuse me?”
“you just seemed to really like it. You never complained.” Sam spoke a bit more quietly as if she was nervous to say. She started to realize maybe this wasn’t the best idea.
“you’re the one who asked me to do this. I could’ve said no but I didn’t because ends needed to be met and I loved you.” Sam was the one who had offered you this after seeing you give her a lap dance.
she realized how good you were naturally and decided that maybe she shouldn’t “let your talent go to waste”.
before this you never consider Sam would ever even have an idea like this. She would tell you how you would deserve the best but right now it didn’t feel the same.
You’ve been dating each other for around a year and known each other for way longer. how could this be your girlfriend.
“I know. And I’m sorry. I was selfish and was desperate to pay the rent and the bills and get more than cheap food.” You let out a soft breath as your nerves temporarily calmed down.
you reached out and held Sam’s hand. “And I forgive you.” You smiled sweetly before pressing a soft kiss against Sam’s lips.
but will things fall back in place?
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After The Rain - Chapter 8
Welcome Home
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1923
True to her prediction, she didn’t sleep another wink, and she was awake the exact moment they pulled into the station at Rifthold. The lurch of the train matched the lurch in her stomach, and she felt nauseous as she slowly rose out of bed, avoiding looking out the window.
Celaena hadn’t been in this city for six months, but that wasn’t nearly as long as she wanted. She never wanted to be here again.
She didn’t speak to Rowan as he passed her a new set of clothes from the suitcase, this time a dark blue dress with capped sleeves, white stockings, and the same shoes from the day before. It was general day wear for the city she supposed, but it wasn’t what she preferred anymore. She liked getting dressed up if there was a situation for it, but she also liked her worn in boots and her cotton dresses, not this pretentious show of wealth, wealth that wasn’t even hers. 
She’d earned her own money from the jobs she’d done, though a majority of it went straight to Arobynn. Whatever the situation called for, she was forced to do it, and the money she got felt like a paltry attempt to stop her complaints. 
It certainly hadn’t been enough.
Cairn came knocking on their door bright and early, leaning against the frame casually as Rowan pulled it open. He gestured casually in front of him, and she lifted her chin with dignity as she walked past him, refusing to head toward her fate like a coward.
Outside, she looked composed. But inside, her mind was whirring. She’d tracked all the exits as she’d entered the night before, but they were all essentially blocked this morning with people on their own way to get off the train. Rifthold was a huge city, and therefore a busy station.
She’d have to wait until she was on the platform to attempt her escape. She wanted to clutch at her necklace, but she didn’t, keeping her hands by her sides as Rowan’s hand once again returned to her waist. Both a play at affection for a watchful eye, and a way to keep her from running. 
Like he could stop her.
It was a quick walk out of the train, and she sniffed as Cairn opened the door, Rowan leading her out onto the platform. She’d made her first grand escape here, and now she was being led back like a pig to slaughter.
Her eyes darted around, fighting through the crowd of people to find a path out. People were bustling around, carrying suitcases and chattering and generally taking up a lot of space. It would be helpful to an extent; once she was gone, she was gone. She’d be able to get out of here, maybe get on another train, go find Emrys and make sure he was safe.
But then the crowd shifted and she froze. 
Rowan went rigid next to her, stopping mid step.
“I thought we were taking her to the mansion,” he spoke tensely under his breath to the other man, who just shrugged.
“Change of plans,” Cairn said, with a crooked smile, which he directed at her. But Celaena couldn’t tear her eyes away to look at him, because there, less than fifty yards in front of her, was Arobynn Hamel.
He was standing by a pillar, hands in his pockets, looking casual as ever. He lifted a hand to wave at her when he noticed her attention, a smirk on his cruelly handsome face. He’d always been charming, and for a while when she was a bit younger than she was now, she’d been enthralled by him, as disgusting as that was to think about. But now, looking at him, she just felt stuck.
“Fuck,” Rowan cursed under his breath, and that nearly broke her spell as she glanced over at him briefly, wondering why in Hellas he looked so distraught. Wasn’t this the plan? It just made it easier for him, a quicker trip. Just pass her off to Arobynn and he could leave. Go collect his payment.
This derailed her plans a bit, but it was pointless anyway. In Arobynn’s presence, she was cloistered, and she didn’t think she’d be able to run if she tried.
Rowan’s grip had tightened around her waist, but he wasn’t moving toward the other man, leaving her with a half a thought that he’d try to run off with her himself. Though that would be absurd. But Cairn just grabbed her upper arm and essentially dragged her, and Rowan, across the platform.
“Celaena, darling,” Arobynn crooned when she was close enough, and every single one of her joints locked up. Everything in her body threatened to fall completely apart, but also completely freeze at the same time, a vicious battle going on. He seemed to realize, smirking at her reaction.
“Nice to see you,” he added, “it’s been such a long time.”
Without even realizing when, three of his goons had pushed out of the crowd, surrounding her until she had nowhere to go. She glanced around her shoulder, unconsciously searching for a pair of green eyes, and she found Rowan looking at her, unreadable emotion filling his face. But there was nothing to be done as she was carted away.
------
The drive back to his townhouse went by in a flash, and the next thing she knew she was staring up at its gilded door. Arobynn had a bigger mansion outside of town, with a sprawling estate, and a smaller, but no less extravagant, townhouse in the midst of uptown Rifthold. Its size from the front was deceptive; it was sprawling and massive, and even though she’d spent over a decade in its walls, she still felt like there were parts she hadn’t seen.
But Celaena was frowning as Arobynn opened her car door, guiding her out of the car and toward the house with a hand lightly touching her lower back. The brief contact made her want to curl up in herself and hide.
But she couldn’t, as she was ushered into the house, a man she knew as Tern opening the front door for her with a crooked smirk. Gods, she hated every single one of these people. 
No words had left her mouth since the night before, and she kept it that way, her lips effectively glued shut as she followed Arobynn’s guide up the stairs and down the dark hallway toward his office. 
He hadn’t said anything since his greeting either, and she was afraid of what would come out of his mouth next.
The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife as he shut the door behind him, leaving them alone in the room. Last time they’d been alone in a room…
She was on edge, barely able to take in the place that was so unfortunately familiar to her as Arobynn walked around where she was sitting in the armchair, taking his seat on the edge of his desk facing her.
He let the silence soak in for a second, his steely gray eyes trained on her face until she was nearly twitching with discomfort. It felt like eternity until he opened his mouth.
“How was country life?” He asked, quirking an auburn brow. “Just as provincial as one might expect?” She just clenched her jaw, refusing to answer. “I can’t imagine it would be much more, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never degraded myself so much as that.”
She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from rising to the taunt. 
He sighed at her nonanswer, stepping forward until he was the only thing in her vision, and she had to stop herself from flinching as he traced his hand up her cheek. 
“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice deceivingly soft. “It hasn’t been the same without you.” She still didn’t respond, refusing to meet his gaze until he roughly grabbed her chin, pointing her face up toward his. Adrenaline raced through her.
“And I can’t have you leaving again,” he said, clicking his tongue. Celaena could feel her heart thudding in her chest, the promise of violence in his silky voice and in his darkened eyes. “I’m sorry about this, but it’s quite a necessity. You need to be taught a lesson.”
She barely had time to react before he struck her.
----
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daryldixonsdoormat · 2 years
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won yourself a date
As my trip to Tulsa Oklahoma is getting closer and closer. WHY NOT POST SOME MORE OUTSIDERS CONTENT. 
(My favorite character) Fighter! Darry Curtis x Reader
 yea im switching it up and making AUs for mine and yalls entertainment.
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After his mother and father died he had to get a job quickly to keep the bills paid and his siblings feed. A friend of his, Dally, offered him an ‘underground job’ that would earn him enough money to pay bills. He isn't a bad fighter at all being a jock in high school gained him most of his experience in fighting. The fights mainly took place in the town next to Tulsa, with more room, and less familiar faces. Only Two-Bit and Dally knew about the fighting, sometimes they would even indulge in it, betting their money on fighters including Darry himself. The money was good but he needed a job to put on paper for taxes so the boys wouldn't be taken away. He got a second job roofing houses and that's how people saw him. Just a hard-working boy who was taking care of his siblings with a ‘well-paying’ job. 
Your upbringing was much different. It wasn't uncommon to have alcoholic parents that only kept you around for personal benefits. But when you turned 18 you got out of that house, packed your bags, and ran around for two years. You settled down in Tulsa Oklahoma nearing the edge of town. Working during the mornings wasn't really your thing. you considered yourself a night owl so you searched for work that peaked at night. That's when you found the underground club with “help wanted” signs plastered outside by the entrance. Your boss David gave you the job after some flirting and flaunting. Your job was to walk across the ring with signs sexily, to get the crowd riled up. The job was good pay, and the tips were damn near plenty. You weren't expecting much out of this job except money and maybe a few hookups at most. It wasn't in your plans to meet him. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------
”I'm betting on you man. Don't fuck it up” Dally says flicking his cancer stick out of the passenger side window as they get closer to the building. Two-bit pushes himself between the two seats, from where he is sitting in the back of the truck. “Yea you better KO his ass Darry,” Two-Bit says chuckling as he punches Darrys shoulder. Darry glares at him through the mirror before turning his attention back toward the road. “Sit back Two. Aint trying to get pulled over now”. Two-bit just rolls his eyes at the man but still sits back at his request. Darry pulls around back hopping out of the truck and grabbing his bag from the backseat. It's loud like always people screaming, jumping, and fighting just to get to see the fighters before the big fight. Darry always gives the crowd an awkward hand wave before going off into his room to prepare for the fight. Two-bit and Dally don't do much other than collect the money people have bet on him, and talk to girls they find. Darry on the other hand doesn't really indulge in that, other than the occasional small talk, but that normally has Darry walk away from them. The girl's small talk isn't really small talk, all they want to do is bed him.   
Darry steps out of his room with his silk robe on covering his bare chest and muscles, he steps into the ring sitting on the stool in his designated corner. This fight will get him a lot of money if he wins. People have been looking forwards to this fight for weeks because of the known history between Darry Curtis and Paul Holden. And today's the fight of the year, rematches are normal but the first fight is the most important. You walked out of your dressing room in a similar fashion, a robe wrapped around your body covering your exposed skin. Obviously, you aren't top-less but some would say the wardrobe provided to you could be considered, ‘half naked’.  You walk to the side of the ring no one batting an eye at you till you rid yourself of the robe. You lean down and grab the first board, you slip it under the ropes before climbing into the ring. Everyone is preoccupied with their own stuff not noticing you until you rid yourself of the robe, throwing it over the ropes. Your heels click on the floor as you walk to the middle of the stage, the sign now sitting by your feet waiting to be held up. Rhythmic music starts to play and somehow the crowd gets even louder when the spotlight hits you, signaling the start of the show. You swing your hips looking around before announcing names. “Everyone please give it up for... Darrrryyy Curtisssss”. The crowd roars when you announce his name, he stands up taking off his robe and rolling his shoulders back while looking at you. You nod at him and then turn your gaze back to the audience to announce his opponent, “And going against Curtis we have, Paaauuulll Holdeeeennnn”. The crowd reacts in the same manner when Paul stands up but unlike Darry, he drinks in the praise for the crowd throwing his hands up. He turns towards you clicking his tongue and sending you a wink before jumping up and down ready for the bell. 
You bend over to pick up the sign at your feet, you hear a wolf whistle from a few men in the crowd and from Paul in the corner. You lift the sign above your head before striding across the ring and exiting from under the ropes. There are 11 rounds in big fights such as this one. You really pay no mind to the fights until the three-minute timer is up and you have to get back in and show the next round. In the fifth round, you strut onto the stage in a new wardrobe swaying your hips again for dramatic effect. You walk with the sign above your head to Holden's corner, muttering “good luck” to him before moving to Curtis’s side.  You wish him “good luck” in the same manner glancing over at the other two men in his corner staring you down. “You want to catch a movie sometime doll?” Dally says confidently his arms slung over the ropes behind Darry. “Sorry sweetheart, your not my type,” you say maneuvering between the ropes again before sitting down. Darry and Two-Bit snicker at Dally’s confidence that flattered after being turned down so quickly. The match passes by like normal, one guy getting the upper hand while the other guards. The tenth and eleventh matches normally prove who the winner is.  But neither of the men fighting are looking too great. Darry has a busted lip and discoloration along his abdomen. Paul has a black eye but nothing too bad on his face, you can tell he let his guard down because of the red on his ribs. People on both corners are looking a little jittery for these next two fights, but the most you can do is walk the sign across the stage and wish them the best. You walk across the stage holding the number “11″ above your head before making the last announcement. “They are all tied up. This is the winning round boys” the crowd screams when Paul stands up and bangs against his chest for dramatic effect. 
Fights are flying, along with spit when one of them lands a blow. Paul got the upper hand nearing the middle of the 3-minute round. Darry is keeping his guard up with the encouragement of his friends but they are also urging him to make a breakthrough. And that's up Darry did, he dunks out from under Paul’s swing throwing him off guard. That was the end of the fight, Darrel Curtis knocks him out a won the ungodly amount of cash. You step back into the middle of the ring again for the last time for the night. You grab Darry’s hand and throw it up in the air declaring his victory, he lets a small smile slip at this motion. You pat him on the back after letting go of his hand and slipping through the ropes to walk away to your dressing room. 
You hear quick feet head towards you and a small push from behind you. You turn towards the man whose mouth is open as if he was interrupted before being able to speak. Darry looks at you examining your features, “You looked great up there tonight”. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip and your eyes narrow at the man trying to figure out his true intentions in talking to you. You rest your hand on your hip, “thank you. I could say the same for you” you say to him giving him a polite smile. “Ahhh thank you. Would you like to get some dinner sometime soon?” Darry says shooting you an award-winning smile looking nowhere but your face. You lean to the side a little to look over his shoulder at his friends for a reaction, a giveaway that this is some kind of joke. Though the pair looks just as surprised as you are at the confrontation. You turn your attention back to Darry sweat rolling down his face, “yea ok dinner sounds nice”. You exchange numbers before parting ways, but Dally throwing his arms up in disbelief was something else. Dally looks at you again confused, you just blow him a kiss before walking off laughing at the boys.
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yunarim · 1 year
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our rainbow-coloured days will advance forward, so shine forever
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❤︎ summary : Yuuka, a completely ordinary magicless girl, finds herself in an incomprehensible predicament. Soulmates appeared in the human world only a few decades ago and still have many inconsistencies, but Yuuka's case, to her dismay, becomes rather unprecedented.
Apparently, her soulmate is waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. ❤︎ tags : female reader, soulmates, reader is yuu, sfw, fluff, pining in some chapters, one character = one soulmate prompt ❤︎ ao3
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ִ    ꕤ Better than gold | Kalim Al-Asim
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⏤ . . . prompt : soulmates leave handprints on the body parts where they first brushed each other ⏤
❤︎ before reading : very rational yuuka for this chapter (she's still sweet lol)
They were red. Kalim remembered, they definitely were red, his cheeks. He was what, five or so, when parents told him what soulmates actually are. 
He was genuinely flummoxed at how many bonds there was ⏤ thousands, millions, myriads! His parents tried to calm him down by heart, but all in vain, Kalim was already investing into finding his soulmate while turning a deaf ear to a teacher assigned specifically for royalty and genuinely devoting himself to teach at least something about economics. 
By the age of ten Kalim considered studying soulmates at the university, but of course nothing is that simple when you have a whole country to lead in the near future. But a little ticklish feeling in his chest was telling him that it would be okay to throw himself at this sweet romantical sensation. 
Jamil would often find his master rolling on an enormously big bed and fantasizing about the very first meeting with his soulmate. Jamil was the very first one who learnt that telling Kalim he may not have his kindred spirit was strictly prohibited. 
Soulmates phenomenon was the one thing which pushed Kalim forward, always giving him extra energy to make the world a better place and just keep on enjoying life when he was feeling down. 
Kalim wasn’t stupid. It’s not like having someone connected to you spiritually was a good thing which could help you to magically resolve all the problems and just let it be, no, Kalim wasn’t dumb. 
No one could say Kalim was stupid when his eyes sparkled with glee and an adamant excitement whenever he saw people. Having someone by his side was just enough. People were his greatest joy, a living panacea, his both sheer and delight.
He used to reread famous stories about princesses and their adventures. He wondered if soulmates existed when these fairy tales were written? Life isn’t some sort of story told with a bit of magic involved, and yet Kalim sunk deep into his thoughts.
Maybe… just maybe, was there a princess waiting for him too?
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
Jeez, why was she sneezing so much lately?
Yuuka almost thought she caught a long-lasting cold which progressed to something near chronic, but her friends just brushed it off, chucklind and dropping almost obvious hints that someone thought of her.
“Damn, what am I, a child?” she asked them a little bit nonchalantly, trying to concentrate on her studyings. “I literally have no one to chat with beside you.”
Her friends suggested to broaden her horizons so that she could see a lot of wonderful things, experience love and⏤
Blah-blah-blah, bleugh, the hell? Come on, she wasn’t in a middling drama series. Life wasn’t so bright as it was drawn, so were people.
Yuuka was, so to say… rather exceptive. She had to work hard if she wanted to make it into university, then work hard to earn a lot of money and maybe buy an enormous palace to live in all by herself and, if she’ll get rid of this inexplicable sneezing, she’ll consider raising a cat or two. Such an immaculate plan!
Speaking of the devil, she sneezed again, cursing under her breath and almost throwing all of her copybooks, but quickly collected herself.
Dictionary she was observing before happened to be opened on a page with the letter ‘ s ’ on it.
Soulmate.
They were red, her eyes. Small vessels burst from anger and lack of sleep, causing Yuuka to sigh. Friends, parents, even teachers said it would be a problem if she didn't find her soulmate by the age of twenty. Employment becomes a truly overwhelming process if you do not have stability in a world where soulmates have become the second mark in the passport, overtaking marriage in importance, which was relevant all these centuries. 
Maybe she was too captious. She preferred to think she was rational, always aiming at career success, so why… Why was everyone trying to convince her there were other things to pay attention to when she had an entrance exam to be passed flawlessly soon? 
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
Guess exams didn’t matter anymore.
Yuuka was devastated at how meaningless her life had become. What were her dreams about pursuing a career, raising money and buying a palace with two cats? 
Yuuka listened to a suspicious man named Crowley, and even if mother told her to not talk to strangers, there was no better choice. His speech turned into a stream of almost incoherent words, from which Yuuka could only catch that she was in the world of magic and wizardry, like the heroine of a second-rate soap opera, over which her friends sobbed mercilessly, dreaming of being in the place of the main character. 
Screw that, being actually physically forcefully dragged into another world as a matter of fact wasn’t something ever so romantic at all! She had to think about renting a small apartment being from another world, trying to find a job without having a higher education. Well, if she’s lucky, she’ll get a diploma of a magic freaking college, being absolutely magicless herself, so would it mean she would be deceiving her future employers⏤
No, actually, before that. 
What’s with that smell?
The smell of burning reigned in the room, and she hastily looked around. A boy next to her was in panic, his small of the back was literally burning with blue flames.
“Sevens, help me!! Please!”
Yuuka ripped off his ceremonial robe, trying to untie a tight belt along the way, but was succeeded in the end. She patted the boy’s small of the back without hesitation and made sure everything was fine.
“Dude, you okay?” She asked, her pupils still trembling from the mess she had to witness.
“You’re my savior!! Thank you so much!”
Yuuka dared to look at him, now that his rode wasn’t hiding his head with a dark hood. 
Lights were dim, occasional green magical glimmers shone somewhat apathetically, but nonetheless Yuuka thought she saw an epitome of the sun itself.
They were red, his eyes. Widened in curiosity, but still a hint of courtesy almost washed over all the joy, so the boy wouldn’t seem mannerless. They were gleaming warm red as if tiger lilies she saw once in her childhood.
Ah yes, she remembered it now. She was twelve and it was raining hard when she ran away from home, unable to bear reading any more math books. The realization of inevitable nights with a detailed analysis of theorems in geometry tormented her like a Canterville ghost. 
She couldn’t imagine herself doing something so reckless once again in her lifetime, but that tiger lilies she saw in a meadow… Was it even possible to grow wildly like that? She didn’t know, but appreciated the beauty nevertheless.
They were red, her cheeks. Kalim couldn’t tell if she tried helping him so hard she was out of her breath or was it something else, but…
How pretty she was. An amaranth red hue dusting her pretty cheeks felt warm even if he wasn’t even touching them in the first place. Kalim felt like burning. Sure he did considering his small of the back almost turned to ashes a few seconds ago (it wouldn’t anyway but he was delighted to realize he would be okay due to the girl helping him). But no. 
His heart was burning. No gentle warmth he felt when reading those silly little stories for children, no playful lukewarm flashes of happiness when helping people. It was a searing fire, bursting under his ribs and spreading throughout his body. And somehow it felt nicer than anything. 
And maybe a little burning sensation on the small of his back.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
Yuuka somehow adapted to everything. Her new friends didn’t insist on her finding a soulmate, they actually suggested a few quite okay options regarding her future job. They were pain in the ass, but they were her pain in the ass. And they were so absurdly beautiful in their little antics it was just very funny.
It was Ace and Deuce who half-jokingly suggested getting a diploma in beast-training, it was Leona who suggested opening her own restaurant and cook meat for him everyday, it was Azul who suggested her working in Mostro Lounge and never know financial difficulties anymore (actually the last variant was quite a tempting offer, but she politely declined, knowing how cunning Azul can be).
She wanted something different this time. 
What was the point of trying to maintain her usual self when she was in a completely different world, wouldn’t it be okay to have a little fun?.. Just a little?
“Oh, Yuuka, hello!!”
She was sitting on the roof, peering into the cloudy sky and frowning, as if echoing the fluffy gray shapeless clots. She turned when she heard a familiar sweet voice, ignoring her rising heart rate. She was just startled, that’s all.
“Good evening, Kalim,” she answered, not minding the Scarabia dorm leader sitting near her. “Isn’t it a little bit late? I heard Jamil say you’re off to bed by 10 pm.”
“Normally I do,” he replied in a quieter manner. “I just wanted to think a little, but I stumbled on you here.”
“Oh, don’t mind me, I can leave.”
“No, no! I absolutely enjoy having you around, please stay.”
He was sweet, it almost hurt. Yuuka sighed, letting tips of her lips curve in a small regretful smile. 
Kalim was nice. She admired how he was imbued with love for life and for people, when she was so gloomy and rational herself, not even daring to think about the beauties of this world, hiding in the shadows of her doubts.
The air was stuffy, and Yuuka grimaced as she stared up at the graying with every passing second sky, not noticing Kalim's affectionate gaze on her.
“Yuuka, do you believe in soulmates?”
Somehow she didn’t feel disgust at the thought when it was Kalim who voiced it out loud.
“I… maybe I do. I wasn't used to it before, though. Maybe due to the fact I wasn’t in a magic world to begin with,” she chuckled, returning to her seat.
“Good! I do believe too. And you know what, haha…”
“Would be so corny if you say I’m your soulmate.”
It’s not like he was sure. 
He wanted his soulmate to be her. 
She differed from the princesses he read about in fairy tales, she wasn’t wearing fancy dresses and expensive jewelry, she obviously didn’t want to experience an unbelievable adventure with a glorious marriage in the end and live happily ever after. 
Yuuka was simple. It was almost funny how her classmates claimed she was so complicated and captious when Kalim just smiled at her gentle features, admiring her hard work from afar and never mentioning how sweet she was, smiling to him in the corridors before entering a classroom, how delighted she looked playing with Lucius.
How dreary she looked, looking at the flowers in the college garden.
She wasn’t a classical princess at all, and yet he thought he could faint out of joy when he spotted a freaking elegant handprint on the small of his back.
And yet it wasn’t so simple to just touch her somewhere in order to make sure. He saw her as inviolable, absolutely precious and refined gold.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “But it would be fun!”
“Hmm.”
She was smiling.
“It would. Oh…”
He turned his gaze on the sky too this time and realized it started raining.
“Let’s go,” she suggested, giving him her hand to help him stand up.
That’s it, Kalim though, now or never!
Kalim reached for her fingers, almost touching them, but a sudden clap of thunder behind Yuuka made her scream in fear and jump on the spot. Kalim, reaching out to her at that moment, apparently also turned out to be extremely dumbfounded and frightened by her own reaction, so he did not calculate the trajectory and slipped on the wet tile, dragging Yuuka after him.
“Oh Sevens, are you alright?! I’m so sorry!!”
Yuuka thought that now she would lose consciousness, but a powerful burning scalding sensation pierced her shoulders, and she instantly opened her eyes, meeting Kalim's worried gaze.
“O-oh… I’m o-okay… I guess.”
“Do you feel pain anywhere?”
“My shoulders,” she answered, glancing at Kalim first and her limbs second. 
“Oh, sorry, I just drugged you… It’s my fault.”
He quickly collected himself, helping her stand up and almost instantly grabbing her hands again in order to get to her infirmary, but she gently stopped him. 
“This is embarrassing, but please wait a bit..”
She pulled down the edges of her wet shirt and gasped in unison with Kalim.
Fresh bright crimson marks of his palms were imprinted on her skin, a slight light glow surrounded the contours, and suddenly Kalim clutched at his back, hissing from the pain piercing him.
“Don’t tell me…” she whispered, and if Kalim didn’t actually concentrate on her speaking he wouldn’t have heard her due to heavy rain. 
They were red, her cheeks.
“Haha! This is so dumb!” 
They were red, his eyes.
“It is!” 
Yuuka chuckled while Kalim smiled broadly. An ephemeral light feeling filled her lungs, causing her to laugh as hard as she could, and Kalim gladly picked up her high spirits, laughing along with her, creating an orchestra of gentle idyll.
A sudden image of the tiger lilies she saw once popped up in her mind, and she stopped laughing, a sweet warm smile plastered on her face.
Maybe it wasn’t exactly lilies she wanted to witness once more.
“I wish you patience with how rational I am,” she giggled, placing her hand on the small of the Kalim’s back and causing him to blush a little at her playful persistence. “Would you take care of me?”
“Don’t worry,” he answered, a cordial smile never leaving his face.
He pressed his lips to her shoulders, noticing how contours of the handprints stopped glowing and finally took on a calmer shade, turning almost pale and now resembling an intricate tattoo.
She buried her nose in his ozone-scented hair and inhaled the pleasant rainy scent, feeling all her troubles suddenly melt away as the raindrops trickled down his neck.
“Actually,” she said playfully. “I believe you taking care of me should have started from us escaping the rain.”
“Oh please,” he giggled, turning his warm gaze to her. “It’s calming, isn’t it? And after it ends let me show you some flowers! Especially that one of the red colors. I guess you like red!”
She pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead. 
“You’re right.”
She liked the red of his eyes and he fell in love with the red of her cheeks.
Maybe that was finally something fairy tale worthy. 
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❤︎ notes : song : better than gold - nct dream
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© ayavielle 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.
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mistresshunteriowa · 1 year
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Just had the best experience I've had since getting into this way of life. Met him online, He was very Controlling; in the hotel on 12th n Jackson, in DBQ, IA, a Marriott maybe? Well... wow! Super aggressive, demanding, name calling, spit on me as he fucked me, choking hard hands around my throat. Then flipped me on my stomach, arms grabbed and twisted behind my back, held there hard, as he owned his toy. Shoved n ordered and pushed me around like I had no choice, not caring if I was feeling abused or aroused. Savage and satisfying. Nothing about it was unwanted. I loved it, honestly, he fucked me for hours. And didn't cum, though and that always feels like a complete failure. That's two, now, that I haven't been able to make cum. Sad bc it's a secret fun to be the one who gets to be used like a proper slut, til he can't hold back any more, and if possible facialed. It's frustrating, ya know, not having been satisfactory enough to make him or Taralynn cum.... I feel very... inadequate.... I'm the one who has the ONE job, ONE JOB ONLY, of making him let it all out, drain in spurts or shots or breedings or a full hot as fuck money shot facial. Afterward, He said it takes a long time to make Him cum, sometimes a full 24 hrs of constant on n off sex. I guess future aspirations....
But he has bdsm gear, toys, gags, blindfolds, lubes, and is not afraid to use a magic marker to write out his opinion on the skin of His slutty, submissive toy; held for his control. He says He said He's verse, and I said that's not my business. My business is being where and when and useful when called on. What he does is his to decide.
Later, near check out, it was daylight and shower time, and He pissed on me! For like a Solid 3 minutes. I just pushed my ass n back against his dick as he pissed. Making sure he got all my whore parts. Thru the night, He kept calling me pig, no idea what that's supposed to mean....I mean I hate pigs, shits sties or fkking cops right? I'd prefer to avoid either, Idk, but the complete control and domination was a lot of fun... and hoping he calls like he said he will. He wasn't huge, maybe 5", but absolutely no remorse in using it and no making small talk about whatever. Nearly directly to manhandling me out of nowhere, with no asking or apology, taking him as he made me, in whichever hole, position, he decided.
About half way, he got up, pulled a marker out of the night stand, said I'd earned a name by my obedience. Then he Wrote the word "WHORE" on my stomach. Big bold letters clear across my belly. I whispered a Thank you, Sir. And sat on the bed on my knees, legs apart, back arched, head still. Not bc he had told me to, but bc it felt like...my way of standing at Attention, hehe.
Older than me, maybe 50-52, but I'm learning it's the older than myself Doms who know who they are, and w the experience to be worth the mindless sluttery and eager obedience I want to throw around recklessly. 😉
Doesn't like fem tho, likes clean yes, but masc men. So, waiting to use my new fem stuff still. Some lingerie, wig, panties.
And says he may have to show me off to some number of his friends. If only I could impress that much.
I'm all for it, so long as everyone is clean in body and in health.
I left when he did, ass sore, legs trembly, arms tired, w a cockring that is also a butt plug in still in my subbytwat. After the shower, he with no word of warning, pushed me from behind, bending me forward over the bed, then I felt the plugs slippery bulb push against me and slowly penetrate til it rested fully in me. The outer end had a rubber ring, he pulled my limpness back a bit, put it thru the ring and checked the fit. That was a bit rough and at first uncomfortable. But that changed as things kinda adjusted as I stood up. He ordered me to wear it for the day. It's was only 11am, I happily confirmed that I of course would. So I am. Hopefully he calls. If not, then I at least earned a new toy to my collection... maybe he'll call in the days ahead when he's established the fact that he doesn't need me
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stormyoceans · 1 year
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Hello, this is me again, Monica. Everyone, proceed with caution, this is high heat. Monica, as my main viewer, i hope you`ll enjoy it.
I think i was brief in my first ask so let me expand my idea a little and add heat at the end: I like when camboy aus start with one needing money and this is being the reason why he starts doing this kind of work. And this is perfect for PuenTalay. I really want to see Talay living second secret life as a camboy and it's being parallel with Puen's two lifes (as an actor and as an individual with private time?). We love parallels in Vice Versa house. But what is more important, i want Talay to start it for himself too. If he couldn't find pleasure in previous intercourses, maybe he needs to take this matter in his own hands.
When he creates page for himself, he very actively chats with a lot of people who subscribed to it, asks for their preferences, advices (Talay always approaches everything responsibly, ah, he's so cute). But to ask and to do is two different things, so he struggled a lot at the begging. After a few attempts, he collected a certain number of subscribers and even earned some money, but he didn't do very well. But he's very lucky in a sense that universe hears him and sees his struggles, so she sends Puen to him (just like in the series) <3 I think it was just usual evening for Puen, he was surfing the internet alone and since he drank a few glasses of dry red wine, he decided to make his evening even more pleasant. He just typed his request into qooqle with gs and opened the most popular website with live shows. Let everything that happens in real time be highlighted on the first page for the plot (we give everyone, even the most beginners, a chance) and when Puen saw this body, he stopped to scrolling and looked with his mouth open. Talay just started and he was in the frame almost full-length. He slowly spun around, giving his viewers a chance to look all over his body. And as we already established, Puen is obsessed with Talay and his ass. This happened in this universe too. Puen stared so intently and when Talay finally turned to face the camera, groan escaped from Puen's mouth in protest. Talay was wearing shorts, he threw away his shirt at the very beginning. He tilted the camera tripod slightly and sat down on the bed so that his body could be clearly seen and got down to business.
After Talay's live ended, Puen created an acc, subscribed to his page, tipped him and opened his dms, inundating Talay with questions. Hello, do you know that your body is gorgeous? I bet you see messages like this a hundred times a day. How long have you been doing this? It seems like not long. You were so shy, I couldn't hear you. How am i so lucky to find you? And so on and on. Talay was honestly EMBARRASSED, but he felt like he needed a help so he decided to talk with this stranger. This is how they started chatting quite often. I think it will be fun if Puen helps him in some way. He will sugges to close Talay`s live shows only for those who pay for a subscription with the ability to chat with Talay and make small videos for everyone else. And since Talay doesn't have a lot of experience in this field, he can help him to get in the mood and tell him what to do during lives and to help him brainstorming ideas for the videos. Talay didn't expect to find himself a manager (lmao) and he decided to take some time to think.
After Talay agreed, he asked for Puen's name. He teased him and referred to him as P'Dang, but Puen told him to call himself Tun. There's a lot of Puens in Thailand, but he couldn't risk even a little. And so their friendship began. They added each other in messenger because the chat on this site was not convenient for long-term communication, plus they couldn't risk to open this kind of site in public (and they both wanted their messages to be saved somewhere). Somehow imperceptibly, they began to talk about everything. Puen sent him memes and Talay always pretended that his sense of humor was so-so, but he smiled at the phone screen. They discussed movies they watched. They discussed their favourite food. Talay knew Puen is rich and travels a lot and Puen even told him that he works with celebrities (the closest thing to the truth that he could afford). Puen knew Talay's struggling with following his dream and helping his brother and mother. And, of course, they did lives.
Since the first time Puen watched his live, he asked Talay to let him help him. So they created new chat just for this. Talay opened it every time he went live and did what Puen told him to (well, when Puen had time). Sometimes he did lives alone, but he preferred to do it with Puen, he felt more confident. Once they talked and Talay turned his camera on for Puen only. He put on a mask as always and sat there, before Puen's eyes. Puen jokingly wrote in their chat 'Take off your shirt'. When Puen noticed that Talay did as he was told, he froze. 'I didn't know that you wanted to go live today?' - 'No, i... wanted to show you something. Your gift.' Talay's cheeks reddened and he looked away from camera. 'You sent me money and i brought it yesterday. You chose it and i wanted to let you know... how it fits.' - Puen bit his lip. This is not a dream. How could this boy be so perfect?
'It's...with you now?' 'Mm.' 'Then... I can't wait to see. But let's take our time. First, put your hand around your throat and squeeze slightly. Pinch your nipples, make it hard, play with them a little. Yes, like that. Caress your abs. What a gorgeous body you have. Turn onto your stomach, lift your hips and lower your shorts. Show me how my toy spreads you open. Grab the base of the toy and move it inside. Move it harder. I want to know that you like it, be a little louder. Fuck yourself with it. Good boy. Now leave the toy inside and turn onto your back. Take your shorts off completely. Show me how wet you are. Good, so good. Caress the inside of your thighs. Imagine how i bite you here and leave a few marks (Talay pinches his inner thighs, he wants Tun to bite him here, he wants him to leave marks). You can't touch your cock, even if it's so pretty, you don't know how much i want to lick it. Just turn on the vibrating function and you can touch yourself anywhere you want but not your cock, okay? You look so good, laying under me, panting and leaking on your stomach. You like my toy so much, don't you. I know you are almost there. Do you feel good? Tell me. 'it feels so g-good, T-tun...' - Talay panted and caressed his neck, his chest, his sides, his hips, his buttocks. He caressed around his hole, touching the place where Tun's toy so diligently was working to bring him to the finish. 'T-tun, are you still here... Tun...' - Talay pressed on the base of the toy, trying to make it go even deeper and cried out. Puen stared at his screen intently. He touched himself and couldn't write to the chat anymore. His little chaotic Sea stole his breath away (Of course Talay's nickname was chaos-at-the-sea. I'm not sorry for this). Because of the intensity of sensations, Talay arched his back and finished all over his stomach, whimpering the name of the one that brought him to the highest height of pleasure (for the first time in his life). 'T-tun, can i turn that off, p-please, it's too much...' - Talay started to feel overstimulated but he was waiting for Puen's permission, so he layed here, shuddering and breathing heavily. He is so amazing, thought Puen. He stopped what he was doing and wrote 'Of course you can. You did so good, you were wonderful, my Sea. You made me feel so good, i couldn't take my eyes off you. I'm still looking at you'. - Talay read this and turned the toy off, but left it inside. He put his hand on his abs and started to play with his cum, smearing it all over his skin. Usually he felt a little gross if cum got on his skin, but he wanted to indulge Tun more. 'If you were here with me, would you cum all over me like this?' - Talay asked. Puen's brain short curriculed. 'I would like that. As much as i would like...' - he opened his legs wide to show Tun the toy. 'I like it. Thank you for the gift, Tun. But wouldn't it feel even better if you... put your cock inside.' - The blush had not yet left Talay's face, but now his cheeks began to burn and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Puen was still sitting on the bed. His hands was still on the laptop keyboard, his mouth was slightly open and a small string of drool flowed from the corner of his lips. He didn't blink. His whole body began to tremble. He was never harder in his entire life, he felt like the breeze from the open window would make him cum. He didn't move, he just wanted for this to never end.
Talay closed his eyes. It all started to overwhelm him, but in a good way. He felt like he really could feel Tun's eyes on himself. He felt wanted. 'Tun, i-...' - Talay took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 'I can do it one more time, if you want.' - He opened his eyes to look at their chat. Puen started to write.
'What are you doing to me. You look so gorgeous like this, chest heaving, legs opened for me. I wish i could see how pleasure reflects on your face and the blush coloring your cheeks. Do you want to feel me? I would let you. I would let you do anything you want. Do you want me to touch you? To use my hand, tease you with light strokes, make you hard? Or do you want me to lick you? I'll use my tongue everywhere, I'll start with your beautiful neck, move lower and lick your chest and suck on your nipples, I'll lick your hard abs, your cock, god, it's so lovely, i want to taste it so much, I'll eat you out, just remove this toy, I'll put my tongue inside ('T-tun!'- heard Puen from the dynamics but he couldn't stop). Mm, you're stunning everywhere, I'll lick around your pretty hole until you'll beg me to stop. I'll lick the inside of your thighs and leave hickeys here, your calves, bite small bone on your ankle and kiss your toes. Then I'll tell you to roll over onto your stomach and start this all over again. I'll massage your calves, caress your hips, I'll squeeze your asscheeks and spread them open. I want to leave a few bites on them and then i want to bury my face between them, your ass is fucking magnificent, I'll make you so wet i would be able to insert finger without any problems. But you don't want it. You want me to keep you spread open, you want me to loom over you, to press my chest against your back and push inside. Right? You want to feel my cock stretching you. You want to know how full it'll make you feel. I'll do everything to make you lose your mind, I'll ruin you for everyone else. I'll start slowly, i want you to get used to it and when you'll ask me to go faster, I'll continue to go slow. Then I'll change pace a little, I'll wrap my arm around your stomach and thrust deeper, I'll make sure to brush your sweet spot on every push of my hips. I want to hear you begging me to go faster, to hold you closer, to kiss-...' Puen abruptly stopped. Talay wore different masks during his lives and sometimes you could see his lips really well. Puen wanted to sink his teeth into Talay's full lower lip since he first saw it. 'To kiss your neck. You told me it's pretty sensitive... I should grab your chin, lift your face to make it easier. God, i should put my fingers inside your mouth, mm? Let you suck it or just drool around it. Let you know what it feels like to be stuffed from both ends. Do it, do it right now.' - Puen finally looked at the screen. Talay was holding the base of the toy, moving it inside. He lifted another hand and put fingers in his mouth. This sight made Puen grab his cock and he managed to stroke it a few times before he was unmade to pieces. He was coming, hard, with a load moan, keeping his eyes open and looking at Talay.
When he regained his breath, still staring at the work of art that was Talay in the middle of pleasuring himself, he wrote in the chat
'If i was there with you, I would come inside you.' - the image of man, clinging tightly to his back, pressing their cheeks together, holding his chin, pushing his fingers inside his mouth and the feeling of being filled to the brim made Talay cum for the second time in the evening.
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IM DEAD IM DYING IVE NEVER BEEN MORE ALIVE I COULD KILL GOD I AM TRANSCENDING THE MORTAL PLANE IM EMOTIONALLY SPIRITUALLY AND METAPHYSICALLY ON A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF EXISTENCE I NEED A MENTAL HEALTH INTERVENTION TEAM TO SEDATE ME IMMEDIATELY. I WISH I COULD LEAVE YOU A SOMEWHAT COHERENT COMMENT TO LET YOU KNOW JUST HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS AND HOW I ACTUALLY THINK IT WORKS SO WELL BUT IM PRETTY SURE YOU JUST SINGLEHANDEDLY WIPED OUT ANY KIND OF BRAIN FUNCTIONS I HAD LEFT AND SENT MY SOUL STRAIGHT TO TGE HEAVENS TELL GOD IM COMING UP AND I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT WHY
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wellthebardsdead · 2 years
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I have a lot of ideas boggling around in my head for stories involving original characters that I just haven’t bothered writing because nobody really cares about oc content unless it’s character x reader in which they can insert their oc.
But I’m just gonna dump this idea here to get it out of my head, its a bit witcher inspired in the sense that magical creatures are know but theyre at odds with the world of man due to the belief they cause blight and dismay, and it’s based in real world folklore and events too. My working title for it is Tumeric & the Weaver Hound and it’s a romance between a knight and a blind half elf named hound.
Hound was the result of an affair between a silk Weavers wife and a starlight elf who’re more closely related to a djinn than the faerie like elves.
His mother wasn’t a bad person, at least not at first, but she wasn’t a good one either. She married for money but it soon became apparent her husband was more focused on his trade and earning coin than he was with serving her every beck and call, and his frugal nature certainly didn’t sit right with her want for luxuries. And it was safe to say their marital bed saw little action beyond the frequent tossing and turning she’d do in an attempt to sleep through his snoring.
She’d soon start lamenting and complaining rather loudly to her friends in the market place about how miserable she was, how she was longing for a better man to just come and take her away even for a night to show her what she was missing out on, all the while blissfully unaware of an elf disguised as a man, all too eager to grant her her wish.
A wish that soon after leaves her pregnant. She tries to hide it at first, but soon lies to her husband that it was the result of one of their few nights of short lived relief. A lie she manages to keep up until hound is born that is. Pale, opal like ethereal skin, silver hair, pointy ears. Very much not human.
Her husband is obviously furious, but rather than admit wrong doing she doubles down saying that hound isn’t hers and is instead a changeling child, the arguing continues and with the threat of being divorced and left to fend for herself she grabs hound and holds him close to the fireplace to ‘scare’ the changelings true form out of him. (yes this is sadly a very real thing people used to do) And hound being only a baby is so fragile he’s left burned and blind.
A scuffle ensues, hounds father manages to get him free from her grasp without further hurting him and throws her out to the street calling the town guards on her while he’s at it.
He takes pity on the baby and decides to raise him as his own figuring he’d be of some use to him when he’s older, but being a magical creature he’d have to take care to keep him somewhat hidden. He names him hound because while he can’t see he developed a knack for sniffing out his bottle whenever it’d come close to feeding time, a skill that’d do him good in the future too.
As he got older his father tried teaching him how read and write to no success hoping he’d at least be able to do the books for his silk business. But he soon found his nimble fingers were very good for spinning thread, and he could tell which colours were which by the smells of the dye used for each silk. It wasn’t long before his father got the idea to try teaching him how to weave on a loom, he was skeptical at first but with his nose to guide where each thread was and maybe a bit of hidden magic, he soon learned how to make intricately designed cloths his father would sell as is or tailor to a customers wants.
Their two main customer bases of course being Nobles, and most importantly for our story, Knights. One of which has a tunic of whites, golds and yellows.
I haven’t got a name for him yet but I do know he’s the champion and personal bodyguard to the king, undefeated in the joust and contest between other knights of his court, and often the one sent out to do his bidding, usually collecting ‘taxes’ from problematic merchants or houses, but most importantly, investing possible sightings of magic folk when illness, plague, or blight rears its head.
Long story short, he ends up going to the silk weavers home on rumours that a magical creature hiding there had laid illness on the city, but upon searching the place despite his protests he finds hound hidden away in a small room weaving.
Hound immediately smells the tumeric used to colour the silk his clothes are comprised of and thinks he’s here to get fitted for his order like he’s done so many times before so not knowing he’s literally standing right in front of him he fumbles around looking for the fabric he made only to fall right into the knights arms and then fly into a panic and end up hurting himself because he had no clue there was another person in the room.
Anyway, might not make anything from this. Literally just an idea that won’t shut up in my brain that I thought y’all might like, honestly the idea came up because I harvested and processed my turmeric on Friday and my hands are still yellow ~Bambi
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athenagc94 · 2 years
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Written in Rose Quartz
Chapter 4 - Unsuur/Builder - Turquoise
Beginning | Prev | Next
You can also keep up with it on my AO3 here.
~~~~
Robbie had no idea what possessed her to offer up her home to Unsuur while he recovered from his injuries. Her bedside manner left a lot to be desired, evidenced by, well, everything about her. He would honestly do better for himself if he stayed with someone like Vivi or someone from the Church of Light. Not to mention, she still had work to do with the bridge, so it's not like she had the time to entertain him. 
But seeing his lower lip jut out in a small pout when Justice benched him made her want to speak up. He looked more than irritated—he looked sad—and that just wouldn’t fly with her. That expression looked strange on his face.
That being said, she barely had enough room for herself in her tiny ass workshop, let alone a second person. That was why she couldn’t afford to lose that stupid bet with Pablo. She needed that damn expansion and with the trusses turned in, she finally had the money to do it. Heidi planned to stop by soon to take a quick look ahead of breaking ground on the project.
Her reflection glared back at her as she put in the lapis lazuli earrings she won off Pablo. She almost chucked the box at his head when she picked them up after what she dubbed the mistake. And it was a mistake. Maybe one of the worst she’d ever made—which said a lot about how much she hated her choices that night. It’s not like she had the best track record for making good decisions.
Pablo’s shit eating grin made her blood boil. And his sing-songey, “You earned this, love,” made it even worse.
She would fight Pablo one day—be it in this life or in hell—because she was fairly certain they were both going to hell.
No amount of good vibrations from her citrine collection could save her from that. And these damn earrings better give her the foresight to solve the water crisis for all the grief she went through to get them.
She tied back her hair in a low bun at the nape of her neck, a few stray curls already coming loose from its confines. She sighed. Whatever. There wasn’t any point in trying to tame them. It might be time to finally take Pablo up on his offer to cut her hair—before he fought him in the pits of hell, of course.
She stepped out into the living area as Unsuur opened the door that led out of her room. It was more of a closet, really, but it served its purpose with just enough room for a single bed and a shelf that housed her crystal collection. 
She insisted he take the bed. He tried to argue, but she wouldn’t hear it. It was a whole thing. He only conceded when she threatened to throw his ass over her shoulder and carry him there herself.
Like she said, stellar bedside manner.
He leaned heavily on the door jamb with one arm cradling his side. She still wasn’t used to seeing him dressed so casually in threadbare shirt and a pair of loose joggers that rode low on his hips. His hair looked like someone ran their fingers haphazardly through it—probably him, but it was a good look.
“Morning,” he yawned.
“Morning,” she parroted as she made a beeline for the kettle on the stove, “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
He eased himself into one of the mismatched chairs at her comically small dining table. His legs were so long that his knees were almost tucked behind his ears when he was sitting. She found the pieces abandoned behind the Blue Moon and thought why not. A quick hose down from her water supply (which may not be the best use of her reserve) and a fresh coat of paint had them looking almost like new.
It saved her the trouble of spending money at By the Stairs. Arvio could kiss her ass if he actually thought she was spending a cent on his overpriced furniture pieces.
An awkward silence settled between them as she prepared their coffee. She took hers black, but he preferred his with a splash of milk—information she had to pry from him when she saw the way he grimaced each time he took a sip. The poor bastard would have suffered through a few weeks of stale bean water if she let him. Just because she liked it, didn’t mean he had to.
His eyes followed her as she moved across the kitchen. “I like those earrings.”
She almost dropped the mug in her hands. “Oh, uh, thanks. They were a,” she grappled for the right word, “they were a gift.” A badge of dishonor was more accurate. Or a bad omen. A clear quartz cleanse might be in order before she wore them again.
“Oh.” He almost sounded disappointed. “From who?”
“Pablo. He found them in Walnut Groove.”
“Lapis lazuli, right?”
She glanced back at him, realizing that he was actually following the slight swing of her earrings with his eyes. She wasn’t sure why that disappointed her. “That’s right. They’re one of my favorite stones. It’s known as the—”
“Wisdom stone.”
Her lips parted in surprise. Unsuur liked rocks. She knew that. It was the only thing he shared about himself, but she never thought the symbolism side of it all would interest him. It seemed too…whimsical for someone as rigidly literal as him.
“That’s right.”
“I like diamonds.”
Robbie whistled. “Perfection. You’ve got expensive tastes.”
“Oh, well, not just diamonds,” he said quickly, “I like rubies, sapphires, and garnet too.” Courage, justice, and truth—how appropriate. “But I just like rocks in general.”
“Yeah, I gathered that much.”
His extensive rock collection took up one full wall of his house—actually, a shack was a more accurate term for it. She thought her workshop was cramped. A couch would have never fit in his home in the first place. He seemed pleased with the rocks she brought back with her. The first being a speckled granite with flecks of blue and gray and the second a deep orange stone layered with pale yellow. His ensuing smile made her feel like she passed a test.
“So, what are your plans for the day?”
“Am I allowed to have plans?” He shifted in his seat, wincing. “I thought Justice said I was on bed rest.”
“Well, I don’t think Justice is here to yell at you.” The corner of his mouth twitched up into an almost smile. “And you can have plans.” She placed a mug in front of him and took the seat opposite him. “Or did you plan to stay cooped up inside again with this mess?”
She motioned vaguely to the chaos around them. Chests lined the walls, overflowing with odds and ends—mostly half-assembled relics for Catori. She used them as paper weights, bookends, and simple furniture pieces. Anything that might give them a purpose while she searched for the missing pieces.
“Can I watch you work?”
His request was simple enough, but it still surprised her. The fact that he stayed inside these last few days led her to believe he only agreed to this arrangement to avoid being stuck at home by himself. She didn’t think he had any real interest in hanging out with her, but it looked like she misunderstood.
“It’s not all that exciting,” she assured him, “I’ll be pretty busy working on that machine that Qi commissioned to speed up bridge construction. I won’t really be in the mindset to do much talking if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“That’s fine,” Unsuur said, “People say I blend into the background easily enough. You won’t even know I’m there.”
The weight of his stare suggested otherwise.
“You can do whatever you want. I’m not your mother. Or Justice. I don’t care.” 
His eyes followed her every movement—monitoring and weighing every subtle change in her demeanor. It made it hard not to stare right back. And she was…staring, she meant. She never realized how sharp his cheekbones were. Or the squareness of his jaw. Then there were his eyes. They sparkled like obsidian. Her gaze fell to trace the seam of his lips and she wet her own with a quick pass of her tongue.
Was it getting hot in here, or was it just her?
She took a large gulp of her drink, blistering the roof of her mouth in the process, but it hardly registered. “So, tell me,” she croaked, “what’s the craziest shit you’ve done in the Civil Corps?”
He raised his mug to his lips and blew on it. “I once caught three mice in one afternoon.”
It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. “That’s it?”
He nodded. “And what about you? What’s the craziest thing you’ve done as a builder? I already know that you press random buttons and chase geeglers onto speeding railcars.”
She stared at him. Was that one a joke? His deadpan tone made it impossible to know.
As if sensing her unease, he cracked a small smile and clarified, “I’m teasing you.”
Relief washed over her. “Oh, well, in that case, I’m not sure if I have too many crazy builder stories. You already know the good ones, but I have a few stories from when I traveled across the Free Cities. I used to get into all kinds of trouble.”
“And you think that’s changed?”
She barked a laugh. He was funnier than he let on—more of a dry wit kind of guy. She could respect that. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“I do.”
“Alright, if you think you can handle it.” He motioned for her to speak. “So, this one time, when I was in Atara. I stumbled across this abandoned rickshaw filled with relic tech…”
***
Unsuur hated sitting still.
He would much rather be on patrol. Or looking for new rocks. Or picking sand fleas out of Captain’s coat—he wasn’t too picky.
The last few days had been torture for him—laying in bed, staring at the ceiling with nothing better to do with his time. It hurt too much to move outside of his meals with Robbie, but the pain was tolerable that morning and he felt like doing something with his day. 
Robbie had grown more comfortable around him, which was progress. They no longer ate meals in tepid silence and he considered their conversation that morning a breakthrough in their relationship. It was nice to see her laughing and joking like she would with Pablo or Heidi. Per his request, she set him up in one of her comfier chairs on the front porch. It gave him a perfect view of the machines lining one side of the broken fence that circled her workshop.
The slightly crooked sign hanging off the awning bore the name: Robin’s Nest.
Was Robin her full name? He never thought to ask. People only ever called her Robbie or Robs around here. They had since she arrived.
He pursed his lips and said, “That fence won’t keep anything out.” She was opening herself up to all kinds of threats. He was constantly cutting off rocket roosters from walking right into her yard. A wild yakmel herd grazed right on the edge of her property and he knew firsthand how they could be during a sandstorm. “You should get it fixed.”
“I’m not looking to keep anything out.”
He grimaced. He didn’t understand her.
“How are you hanging in there?” Robin hauled a stack of bronze bars over to one of her machines and laid them out. A thin layer of sand clung to her sweat-slick skin. Her cheeks were red, the start of sunburn stretching across the bridge of her nose. She itched it irritably. “You look like you’re ready to start banging your head against the wall.”
“Is that an option?”
She snorted. “You’re just full of jokes today, aren’t you?”
“I tell plenty of jokes,” he deadpanned, “but no one ever laughs.”
The consistent click of bronze stopped. “I just did, didn’t I?”
“You’re the exception, I guess.” He fidgeted in his seat. He’d gotten used to the twinge in his side each time he breathed, moved, or thought too hard about it. “I just hate sitting still is all.”
“I’d offer to have you help me, but that would go against the whole resting aspect of this thing.” She fed bronze bars on one side of the machine and thin sheets of pliable metal came out the other side. It was like magic. Or science. They were one and the same to him. 
Everyone else in his family lived and breathed science. Spoke the language fluently. All of them were esteemed Vega 5 Old World technology experts and then there was him—Unsuur—the disappointment, the failure.
He shoved those intrusive thoughts from his mind before they found a home. There was no place for them here. His attention drifted to her workbench where a small collection of rocks and precious stones littered its surface. 
He perked up in his seat. That was right. “You collect rocks too, don’t you.”
“I guess.” She stood and brushed sand from the knees of her jeans. “I just grab what looks pretty. I don’t think too much about it.”
His gaze fell to a rough cut tiger's eye she strung on a gold chain. He motioned to it and said, “Like that orange one?”
“It’s a tiger’s eye,” she corrected, “People wear them to lessen fear and seek motivation from within.”
His lips curved. “I thought you didn’t think too much about it?”
She blew a stray curl from her eyes. Her hair was tied back in a low bun, but it had already come undone. “I don’t—I mean, I collect them for jewelry making purposes.”
It was a lot more than that. She kept a small collection in her bedroom. Most were on the shelf next to her bed, but she kept a few more on the exposed wood beams around the edge of her room. As if remembering that small fact, she muttered, “Crystals soothe me, I guess.”
“When did you start collecting them?”
“Oh, years ago when I still lived in Highwind with my family. A traveling ‘mystic’ came to town and she read fortunes for the children. She told me rocks would guide me through life like stepping stones across a river,” she scoffed, “which is a bonkers thing to say to a child, but I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I was young and impressionable and my little brain fixated on that fortune and I’ve been collecting them ever since…” She trailed off as if she wanted to say more.
His heart squeezed in his chest. That was surprisingly sentimental of her which seemed to go against her very nature. She was all hard edges and rough patches, like an uncut gem, but there was a softness under all that. “Which one is your favorite?”
Her brow creased. “What?”
“Of your collection? Which do you like best?”
She laughed, a little too loud and punctuated to be genuine. She crossed her arms and he saw the walls surrounding her shift and close with that one motion. As if she remembered who she was opening up to and stopped herself from divulging too much. “An impossible question. Next.”
“I like that one.” He motioned to the turquoise she set on a spool of copper wire. Its veined surface resembled fissures in ice. “I think it would stack nicely with the rest of my collection.”
She peered between him and the stone. “You like it?”
“That’s what I just said. Yeah.”
“One second.” She took the stone and turned away from him. He craned his neck to see what she was doing, but she kept her work hidden. He settled back in his chair with a pointed huff. Maybe taking up reading wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Ta-da!”
She spun around and presented him with her creation—the same turquoise rock with bolts and a curved piece of wire glued to its surface. Confusion furrowed his brow. Why did she ruin a perfectly good rock?
“What is it?”
“A pet rock, duh.”
“A pet…rock?”
“Yeah,” she smirked, “So, you don’t get lonely while I’m working.”
Unsuur studied it. The bolts and wire—was that supposed to be a face? “You know I think your company is more than enough, right?”
Her lips parted in surprise. That was the second time he’d gotten that look from her today. He was on a roll. “Well, I have to, uh, go scrounge up a few things from the scrapyard and I thought Uncertain, here, could keep you company while I was gone.” That splotchy red color crept back into her cheeks. “That’s all.”
He tilted his head. “Uncertain?”
“Yeah, that’s his—its name. Because, ya know, your name is Unsuur, so I thought it’d be funny if…” A vein visibly pulsed at her temple. If possible—her face had gotten even redder. “Forget I said anything. It was a stupid joke anyway.” She set the rock on the porch railing and hurried past him before he could stop her.
“I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere or Justice will kill me.”
“But—”
She grabbed her pickhammer as she bolted around the corner. And, just like that, Unsuur was alone. His gaze fell back to the rock—Uncertain. Well, not completely alone. He picked up the turquoise and chuckled.
“Looks like it’s just you and me until she gets back.” Uncertain didn’t respond—not that he expected him to. The glue hadn’t fully dried and its smile became more of a mangled frown. His shoulders slumped. Yeah… He had that effect on people, but having a pet rock grimace at him was new. “Well, do you want to talk to me?”
Nothing. Why would he expect anything different?
He bobbed his head thoughtfully. But that wasn’t a no, per se.
“Alright, so I found the coolest rock while I was standing outside Paradise Lost. Lots of layers, perfect for stacking. You would have loved it…”
***
Robbie traced the grain in the wood overhead, unable to sleep even though she was exhausted. The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, toting scrap between the yard and her workshop. Dinner had been a quiet affair, just her and Unsuur, seated at her mismatched dining set with bowls of steaming fried rice.
Well, her, Unsuur, and Uncertain…
He kept the turquoise stone at the table the whole time, occasionally asking it a question and pretending like it had responded—like that was a perfectly normal thing to do. She could hardly look at the damn thing without an embarrassed flush burning at the crown of her head.
A pet rock?! What was she thinking??
He had to be messing with her, right?
That had been some lame attempt to connect with him, but why would he need a pet rock? It didn’t do anything. It definitely wouldn’t cure how bored he was, that was for sure. Light, was she actually boring? Did he regret coming to stay here with her?
She scrubbed her face until her skin stung. The clock on the wall read well past midnight. Tomorrow would be rough if she didn’t drift off here soon. As much as she wanted to take the day off and catch up on some much needed sleep, Heidi reached out to say she planned to stop by in the morning and she made an appointment with Pablo in the afternoon.
Between that, she still had work to do. Qi sent another letter asking for a status report on his robot. A letter. Like he couldn’t just walk down to her shop and ask himself.
She groaned and buried her face in her pillow.
The work never ended.
“N-No, ugh.”
Robbie sat up on the old loveset. It was a piece of trash. Literally. She found it left out for trash, but it beat having to sleep on the floor. She strained her ears and listened, but only silence followed. That whimper definitely came from her bedroom though.
Kicking her blanket off, she crept up to the door and pressed her ear to the rough wood. Unsuur whimpered again—albeit quieter than the one that alerted her in the first place. Was he in pain? Was the medicine still working? She wasn’t really sure what she could do to help him, but she cracked the open and poked her head inside?
The lights were dimmed. The blankets and pillows on her single bed made a vaguely Unsuur-shaped mound. 
“Unsuur?”
He whimpered again, rustling the blankets.
“Unsuur, are you okay? Do you need more medicine?” She padded over to the bed and squeezed into the small space between the bed and shelf. Worry lines creased his forehead as he flung the blankets off him. He was shirtless. A deep purplish bruise bled out from beneath the bandages wrapped around his middle, the edges turning the faintest shades of green and yellow. The planes of his chest were flat and well-toned from years in the Corps.
A frown toyed on his lips as he curled into a ball on his side, trembling. He looked so small, so scared—like a child. Robbie gasped.
He wasn’t in pain. He was having a nightmare.
She smoothed out his hair and cooed. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
He relaxed under her touch, the lines on his forehead smoothing. His hair, though a little damp, felt like silk beneath her fingers. She brushed her thumb over his temple, then down and around the apple of his cheek. He sighed contentedly and leaned into the touch until his cheek was cradled in her palm.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek.
Unsuur always seemed so sure of himself—ironically, enough. A quiet calm in the storm that was Sandrock and all its bullshit. Ever-present, dependable, a rock for others to lean on. Or at least, that’s how she saw it, but some of the more concerning things he said so casually about himself made her wonder if that was really the case.
People say I blend into the background.
No one ever laughs.
She brushed her thumb over his lower lip. Hers tingled as she recalled their kiss. Her travels kept her from making meaningful connections—only fleeting, one off relations that left her creeping out of a stranger's room at dawn. She never remembered their names. She never gave hers. It was easier to never get too attached—to anything or anyone.
Her hand fell from his face. He looked more settled than he had when she entered the room. Good. At least one of them would get a good night of sleep. She moved to leave before he realized she was there.
He reached for her in his sleep. Her expression softened as his fingers brushed against hers. He whimpered again.
“Unsuur?”
Nothing. It seemed along with liking rocks, he slept like one too. His fingers trailed up her palm until they closed around her wrist. She tugged lightly, but his grip tightened, almost insistent. Slept like a rock with a grip stronger than steel…
Another five minutes wouldn’t harm anyone. It’s not like she was anywhere close to falling asleep on her own anyway. If this is what Unsuur needed while he recovered, she could manage this much. She nudged him aside to make room for her—though there wasn’t too much room to give. The bars on her bed frame dug into her back as she found a comfortable spot. 
Unsuur curled up in her lap like a sleeping kitten, his cheek pressed flat against her bare thigh. His skin was warm against her—scorching really.
She took a slow, measured breath through her nose and held it. He smelled vaguely of spice—cinnamon, maybe? Or perhaps that was what tanned leather smelled like. It was hard to place, but she liked it. Her fingers trailed through his hair, earning a content hum that someone might mistake for a purr. 
One minute, maybe two, then she’d head back to the living room. That’s what she told herself as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
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messyhandstattoo · 3 months
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Tattoo Pricing - Why are tattoos expensive?
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Hey friend!
Something that can be super confronting and confusing when getting tattooed, is the price. Pricing can be determined by a number of factors, which is why they can range quite a lot!
So lets run through some basics, that can help you understand pricing, your budget and how you’ll start your collection.
Why do artists need to charge so much?
Where is all the money going when a tattoo artist takes a payment?
Generally a tattoo artist, when working for a studio runs on a percentage cut or a rental booth rate. Percentage cut, means from the total price charged for a tattoo, a percentage is given to the shop to maintain what they provide. Percentage cuts can range from 30%-50%. Where as a rental booth rate, may be based on a daily charge, weekly charge or determined by the specific amount of days an artist works, this could range from $120 daily and more.
Provisions a studio can provide include, the space itself, cleanliness of the space, the bed/arm rests, some supplies (depending on the studio - stencil paper, sterilisation room/equipment, inks, needles, barrier plastics) and other resources. On top of that depending on location and legislation, a studio may have to hold a licence to operate, pay rent for the building, provide work insurance or pay other staff (reception, assistants, social media etc).
I am not Mr Worldwide, so PLEASE, this is just information relevant to the locations I’ve worked in.
For an artist there are benefits to both systems. If an artist is consistently busy weekly, paying a rental booth rate may work out cheaper than having a percentage taken from each tattoo done during their work week. But when work may be slow, or weeks are impacted by cancellations/no shows, the rental booth rate may mean they have to pay out of pocket when profit benchmarks aren’t met to cover the rate.
So lets do some real simple maths (because I really shouldn’t be doing maths), if an artist charges you $100 for a tattoo, and the shop cut is 40%, they earn $60, from the $100 you paid.
Your artists work as sole traders, they’re self employed so that means they are trading on their own in the studio space. In which they give part of their earnings, in exchange for the space/resources provided.
So, what may happen to that $60?
Where’s the $60 going?
As sole traders, this means artists are not employee of the studio, but self employed, so what does that mean?
This means, your artists don’t have payroll tax, or are a part of compulsory employee superannuation contributions. Generally they are responsible for any tax payable by their business, and providing their own super contributions.
What does this all mean? It can be pretty confusing, if you’ve never had to worry about it at with your job.
Basically, when you’re an employee of a business, part of your wage is deducted for tax by your employer. So at the end of a financial year, you lodge a tax return in which you could receive a tax refund or owe tax, based on your earnings, deductions or offsets. As an employee of a business, your employer must pay super guarantee at least everything 3 months, about 11% of an employee’s ordinary time earnings. Super, is paid to workers to provide for their retirement.
So, after that hopefully explanatory (it was probably still confusing) explanation, the simple formula is - self employed = pay the money yourself (tax + super)
From that $60, your artist may (should) put aside some money for tax time and into their super. The amount they put aside for both is up to their discretion, there’s no right or wrong amount, but generally there’s probably a guide (which I will not get into because this is not business advice, I’m just a gal lol).
So let’s say your artist, from that $60 decides to put at least $20 for tax, and $20 to their super.
That leaves $20.
Alright, the $20, where might that go?
So there’s $20, surely that just gets pocketed? Maybe not.
As we previously established, a studio may provide some supplies but not all. Generally, tattoo studios provide the basics, like razors, tongue depressors, Vaseline, barrier plastics, cups, cling film, paper towel, and if they’re super lucky maybe some basic needles and inks.
But some studios don’t provide ink and needles, and other products that might use during/for the tattoo (ie second skin, numbing spray etc). This means your artist purchases these supplies from their own earnings put aside.
Depending on the type and brand of needles, a box of 20 can range from $30-$60 (sometimes there are boxes of less that range in price too). Inks can range from $20-$60 (depending on the size/type/brand). Same goes for second skin, they can range from $20-$40 for a roll of varying sizes and lengths.
So let’s say, you received a super simple line work piece in black, they may have used one needle (at $30, that’s roughly $1.5 per needle), some black ink (let’s just guess about $1 worth, which sounds goofy and weird to calculate), and a but of second skin was provided for you (let’s also say $1 worth). That’s $3.50. Leaving us with $16.5 profit.
Enough for a meal (in this economy?? Maybe even not, big bummer).
Alrightyyy, after all those math problem scenario calculations that have haunted us since schooling, that’s a very very basic break down of basic expenses that contribute to your artist’s charging.
Why are they charging this? But somebody else charges this?
Let’s point out some more stuff that’ll determine pricing:
Experience + skill: contribute to the quality of work they provide.
Style: style of work can range, and the complexity of them ranges too (ie high effort = more time needed)
Out of range: some styles/placements may not be preferential for your artist’s range, which they can charge more for, or not accept as a project they’ll take on.
Specialty: some artists have a limited range they like to specialise in, this means they are more experienced/skilled with those styles which can determine their charging.
Placement: hand in hand with style, certain placements can be more challenging to tattoo/stencil.
Some studios have a rough hourly rate, or minimum charge to cover at least all those costs we previous outlined. Hourly rates can vastly vary depending on the area, the reputation and the experience of the artist you go see. Hourly rates can also simply be determined by your artist, and not their studio.
Hourly rates can be a good way for an artist to at least charge on the bare minimum of time used, to make sure they are charging their worth. This can also be a good way for clients to budget for pieces ranging from small to large scale, it give you a determining factor that can help you budget and schedule out your visits. Also most of us have worked a job that pays hourly! So it can help every contextualise the amount charged.
But some artists charge by piece? What does that mean? This means, an artist will quote a piece at a set or range of prices for a piece. Sometimes this is preferential because the amount of time used is not always reflective of an artists ability. An experienced artists might tattoo very quickly, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have acquired skills or knowledge that shouldn’t be reflected in their increasing potential too.
So, somebody has quoted you this, and somebody has quoted that. How do you determine who to book in with?
I always tell clients to make this decision by looking that the artists they’re approaching.
Do you consistently enjoy the work they provide?
Do you think they are providing you with efficient service leading up the appointment? - (Communicating, booking you in, working with you on the design/with your references)
Easy to contact?
Helpful with any questions you had?
Provide enough information about appointment (location, quote, length of appointment, dates available)
Cheaper is not always better, and it’s not bad if an artists quotes lower, as well. More expensive is not always better too, it doesn’t always equate to quality of the piece or service.
Some artist may also charge for drawing time, rates for custom pieces, more for certain days of the week (weekends). There’s nothing wrong with an artist who charge for these extra things, they’re just things of value an artist determines should also be paid for, and is part of the service.
At the end of the day, tattooing is a luxury service. They are an investment for yourself, so happy decision making! (I know you’re all indecisive, I hear it all the time 🫶🏼) Hopefully this provides a bit of extra info to help you make some decisions, and answer some questions!
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enevoldsenwillard · 1 year
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Property Beautifying Recommendations That Happen To Be Specialist And Easy
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survey--s · 2 years
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309.
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Do you listen to Johnny Cash? No, he’s not really my kind of thing. If you could live on any other planet, which one would you choose? Assuming they could all support life, I’ve always thought Saturn is pretty. Have you ever visited a haunted house? No. Is it currently nighttime where you are? It’s early evening I suppose - it’s just gone 7.30pm. Pancakes or waffles? or french toast? Waffles or French toast.
Do you struggle with your weight or body image? Not really. I could lose weight but I’m not unhappy with how I look either Is there anyone you can honestly say you trust with your life? My parents and my husband. What's one of your irrational fears, if you have any? Being able to see directly below me. What's something you'd like to tell yourself 5 years in the past? Don’t bother applying for the promotion, it won’t be worth it. What's the best concert you've ever been to? Plain White T’s were really good. Have you ever seen a sinkhole in person? Yes, just a small one. What's the first thing you'd do with $1 million? Pay for a very long holiday. What is something that people would be surprised to learn about you? That I have autism. What motivates you to get out of bed each morning? My job, I guess? I mean, I enjoy my job and I need to do it in order to earn money to live. What does a typical day for you look like? I’ll just describe a workday.  7.30am - get up, make bed, feed cats, sort the litter trays and water bowls, let the dog out, vacuum, make breakfast, wash up, get ready for work. 8.30am-1.30pm - work, walking dogs, maybe go to the post office if I need to. 1.30pm - collect Archie, back home, feed him and the cats, have a shower and have lunch. 5pm - Mike gets home. Sometimes I go out and do extra pet visits, if not then I just chill at home, have dinner, do housework and watch TV etc. until bed at around 11pm or so.
What has been your most memorable embarrassing moment? I can’t think of anything much. When did you last laugh until you cried? I don’t remember? I just don’t really seem to recall things like that. What is your motto or personal mantra? If it made you smile, it can’t be that bad. Have you ever purchased something off of a mannequin? I’m sure I have at some point. Again, it’s not really something that I try and remember lol. What's one of your guilty pleasures? I don’t really “get” guilty pleasures? I just like what I like. What's something that's on your bucket list? Travel. What makes you laugh the most? Funny things.
What was the last gift you gave someone? Uhh, I don’t remember. Oh, I got my dad some fancy coffee and espresso cups for his birthday last month. What are you most known for? Around where I live, I’m known for being a dog walker and having a noisy beagle who doesn’t know when to shut up. If you had to throw a themed party, what theme would you choose? Ugh, I can’t think of anything worse. What's a good karaoke song? I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor. Name a random fact about anything. Beagles have white tips on their tails so they’re easier to see in undergrowth and woodland. What's your favorite animal? Tigers, penguins, dogs, cats, squirrel monkeys, lemurs, mini pigs. What TV show would you like to star in? Nope, no thank you. Do you ever meditate or do yoga? I don’t do either of those things. Do you ever forget where you put your belongings? No. Mike seems to be able to lose things the second he puts them down though, lol. What's something that gives you a lot of energy? Coffee, a decent night’s sleep, cool showers. When was the last time you cleaned your bedroom? Uh, I don’t remember, but I keep my area of the room clean automatically anyway. Mike’s half is a whole different story though lol. Do you know any good riddles? Nope. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open so the air can flow through properly. Have you ever stolen a street sign or traffic cone? No, but I did notice today that we have a traffic cone in the garage and I absolutely no idea how it got there, hahah. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? I don’t have sheets, just a duvet. When was the last time you used a coupon? Last week as Tesco cancelled my food shop and I got £10 compensation.   Do you always smile for pictures? No. Do you count your steps daily? I mean, I don’t count them out loud, but my phone does keep track. How many hours of sleep did you get last night? About six or seven. Would you ever pose nude for a magazine? If it was anonymous, probably. When was the last time you felt hot? It’s been hot here all day - it’s still about 25 degrees now and it’s nearly 9pm. What color are your sunglasses? Black. Is it currently silent where you are? No, I’m watching Come Dine with Me and Layla just sqieaked. Have you had a grey cat as a pet before? No. I’ve had three black cats, a ginger cat and a brown tabby cat. Do you own any pink sweaters? Yeah, a couple actually. Do you prefer sitting or standing? Sitting. Do you enjoy fruitcake? I like the idea but the reality is always really disappointing. How about cherries? Sure. Do you like croc shoes? Nope, horrendous things. Do you mind if people pray for you? I mean, they can do what they like, but I find it quite offensive when religious people actively push it on me. When was the last time you were sick? I actually threw up the other morning and I have no idea what triggered it. I felt absolutely fine two minutes later, it was weird. What is currently on your bedside table? Some books, a lamp, my teddy bear. Do you suffer from insomnia? On and off, yes. I either sleep amazingly well or appallingly, there’s no inbetween with me lol. What is your safe place? Home. What's something that makes you cringe everytime you see or hear it? People slurping their drinks or soups. Did you ever used to play pinball? Yeah, I remember playing it a lot in Canada when we went on holiday. The posh hotel we stayed in had loads of pinball machines lol. Do you miss phone calls often? Yeah, mostly on purpose lol. When was the last time you lit a candle? About three hours ago. I have a wax burner that’s going pretty much constantly whenever I’m at home. Do you consume a lot of sugar? Probably too much. What was the last thing you misplaced? A hairbrush. How often do you wash your hair? Everyday. Who did you last smile at? Uhh, the cat lol. Tell me a story or fun memory. I can’t really think of one right now. What scent is your current hand soap? Vanilla and honey. Have you ever had a buzz cut? No. How much are you willing to spend on shampoo and conditioner? The current stuff is £3 a bottle. I would’t spend more than a fiver.
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susustudio · 2 years
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Joy
By: Sophie Williamson
So where are you calling from right now? Right now I’m sitting on the beach in Abel Tasman, watching the sun go down. It’s so gorgeous here! Definitely one of the most beautiful places we’ve seen so far on our road trip. 
You’re on a huge road trip of New Zealand right now, you must have seen some amazing places. Where has been your favourite? Ooh that’s such a hard question to answer. Maybe Wanaka? We woke up at 5am to climb up Roy’s Peak, which is a 6 hour round hike, and the view from the top was so stunning I felt like I was in Lord of The Rings or something. I do love Abel Tasman though, we’ve spent the last few days kayaking and just napping on the beach in the sun. We even saw seals! 
How long have you been on the road for? and are you planning on ever coming home? We’ve been away for about two months now I think. And don’t worry, It’s getting colder now and I don’t fancy freezing to death in a tent every night so we’ll be back home for winter. Probably. 
Living out of a car means you’ve left most of your possessions behind. What do you miss the most? You’d think it would be a comfy bed or clothes or something, but no its actually all my kitchen stuff! Cooking on a camping stove is fun and all but it is a faff and it would be so much easier with all the little things, like a lemon squeezer. And a garlic crusher. Oh and all my gorgeous ceramics! I love my ceramics. 
Why do you have so many ceramics and where are they from? I just love them so much. I’ve collected jugs and pots and bowls and things from markets and fairs all over Europe and New Zealand. Each piece has a memory and a story that comes with it, and I’ve built up quite a collection over time.
So what made you decide to set out on this adventure in the first place? I guess I just love life on the road! I didn’t travel much at all when I was growing up and by the time I graduated school I’d only left England a couple of times, so as soon as I left home and started earning my own money I began to take every opportunity I could to travel overseas. I’ve been on some amazing road trips through Europe, Australia and New Zealand, and seen a lot of amazing places. 
Tell me a story from when you were travelling around Australia. Did you have any close calls with the deadly wildlife? I did actually! Me and a few friends were camping on the beach out at Fraser Island, and I decided to go for a swim. I had walked pretty far away from the campsite when this pack of maybe ten wild dingos came out of the bush and started stalking me down the beach. I tried to turn back but they were literally surrounding me, and getting really close. In the end I ran into the water and just swam for it, because I was pretty sure they wouldn’t follow me. Luckily I was right, and I made it back to camp in one piece. 
That was an amazing trip. We backpacked all the way up the east coast. One time we actually got lost in the blue mountains for a day, we were hiking but we lost the path and were just wandering around aimlessly, we even started rationing our water we were so convinced we were going to have to spend the night in the bush. Then we rounded a corner and ta da, there was a little tea shop and a road!
I remember you always took me and my sister out foraging in the countryside when we were growing up in England. What’s your favourite thing to forage? Picking wild blackberries in the autumn was the best. Do you remember, we used to put you and your sister on the roof of the car and then drive slowly down all these little country lanes so you could reach all the blackberries at the top of the hedgerows? 
I love making soup out of wild garlic too, in England there was so much of it growing in the woods next to our house and we used to come home with armfuls of the stuff. In NZ its amazing because everywhere you turn there’s fruit trees laden with feijoas and guava berries and figs. My favourites have to be feijoas, they’re so good.
Have you ever lived overseas? I’ve lived in England and New Zealand, oh and for one memorable summer after I graduated I actually lived on the French Riviera with a couple of friends. We lived in a caravan park next to the beach and spent the summer swimming and getting ridiculously tan and trying to get invited onto a millionaire’s yacht - and we succeeded! I don’t know how it happened but one time I ended up on a date with the boyfriend of the princess of Monaco, who I’m now fairly sure was dating her at the time. Another time I met a film director on the beach who got me to screen test for his new movie, but when he sent me a letter telling me if I’d got the part, I couldn’t read it because it was in French and his handwriting was so awful. If only my French had been bit better maybe I would be a big movie star by now!
You move around so much, but where do you feel most at home? The beach. Any beach! Since I moved to New Zealand I’ve always lived near the ocean, and rain or shine you’ll find me walking along the beach every day. I love swimming in the sea, it always clears my mind. Keeps me young too, I’m sure.
What’s one piece of advice you’d give to my generation? I would just tell you to travel, explore new places, meet new people, make some memories while you’re young. It’s the best thing you can do. You’ll become a whole different person with a whole new perspective on the world, which will help you figure out what you really want from life. So yeah, just get out there and have some adventures!
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hidden-misthios · 2 years
Text
Luxury to Fall in Love
Pairing: Netflix!Lambert x female!reader
Warnings: Blood, angst, major character death.
A/n: I haven't written anything in AGES and I'm nervous to post this but since @sweetdulcets got me back into writing and gave me so much support, I had to post it! English is not my first language so excuse any mistakes you find along the way.
Also Im aware that I changed stuff a bit - bruxa's are born, not made. But for this fic's sake, lets pretend they are!
 Word count: 4 725
                                                  *******************
 "Cheers! To saving your ass two years ago. "
Y/N immediately lowers her glass.
"Lambert!"
"Well, it's true, lass." he grins and raises his glass even more, waiting for Y/N to raise hers as well.
Y/N slowly lifts her glass and clears her throat.
"To two-year friendship." she announces, giving him a soft smile.
"And may we have two more." Lambert adds and purses his mouth in a self-satisfied smirk. Small, red lock of hair fell at front of his face and he quickly moved it to a side.
"You're an asshole, you know that?" Y/N said, clinking her glass to his. "Can't even remember why I let you in my house in the first place." she said then took a small sip of Sansretour chardonnay, the wine that Lambert brought with him. He would always get something for her from his trips: parchment paper, seashells, forest fruits and herbs, sometimes even a gemstones or medicine – depending on success of his quest and time of the year. But he would never show up empty-handed. At first Y/N would try to give him some money (it wasn't much but Y/N offered anyway) but he would always refuse.
"Because I saved your ass from those nasty Foglers? You should be grateful, lass." he grinned and took a sip as well.
"That you did. And you know I am." Y/N admits, with more serious tone this time. He chuckled and lowered his glass on the blanket. The wind calmed down and the sun began to set. The Nimnar river in front of them flowed quietly, bringing calming and fresh air into their noses.
Y/N loved living in Gelibol. Owning her own place at the end of the village and selling herbs was good life. She earned enough to provide herself a peaceful life. She would spend a lot of time in forest, in fresh air and silence. Until the day when Foglers attacked her. It was a broad daylight; the forest was silent and Y/N was collecting some mushrooms when small group of Foglers came out of nowhere and started chasing Y/N. Lambert was passing by the main road when he heard the screams and cries for help.
Y/N paid him, gave up her own bed for him that night and made him the best dinner she could.
"Does every bypasser receive this treatment? Maybe I'll pass this road more often." he said that night at her cottage.
Something clicked between the two that evening – they stayed up late, sharing stories and making each other laugh. Lambert could swear he made her blush a couple of times. Y/N felt like she reconnected with an old friend although she never met this man in her life before that day. They said their goodbyes the next morning and Y/ N watched him leave, thinking how it wasn't fair of fate to bring him to her, just to take him away the next day.
But three months later there he was at her door again. She didn't hesitate but jumped towards him and hugged him as tightly as she could. Red Wolf was startled but wrapped his arms around her and whispered It's good to see you too.
So, their friendship grew stronger and stronger. She never knew when Lambert is going to come to Gelibol but she knew he would. And every time he came, her heart grew three sizes.
"Hello, miss? You there?" he waved his hand in front of her face. Y/N shook her head and looked at him.
"S-sorry I was just thinking about something." she admitted and took another sip of Sansretour. Lambert chuckled.
"I got that. What's bothering you, love?"
Y/N nervously twisted crescent moon necklace that was hanging around her neck. Lambert got it for her, for the first anniversary of their friendship and she was wearing it every day ever since.
"Nothing it's just... I was thinking of all these times you came to visit me." Y/N admitted but then lowered her eyes. She felt stupid now when those words left her mouth. She noticed that Lambert wasn't...well, interested. He cared about her. Y/N was sure of that. But it felt like he kept her at distance. She understood why – witchers couldn't allow themselves to settle down. He was a man of road, not of one village. And Y/N didn't judge him for it. But it didn't stop her from liking him.
"Yes, this village of yours has its charms, but I don't understand what's keeping you here, darling. It's small, you know everyone and everyone knows you. It's too-"
"Normal for you?" Y/N interrupted him. Lambert chuckled, looking at the distance. The sun was down and the moon replaced it, starting to show its craters a bit by bit.
"Well, yes. But honestly now, Y/N, what's keeping you here? You're a curious person. You like to explore, to discover. You could earn money everywhere by selling herbs."
"I-it's complicated." she started but stopped. It wasn't complicated. Y/N knew that she didn't have chance of surviving the wild, hungry Continent by herself. She wanted to explore the world, but fears were stronger than wishes.
"What is?"
"Lambert, I'm not a witcher. I can't fight. I'm not a sorceress either. I have no Chaos to rely on. Woman with no fighting skill can't survive on the road. Especially the one who's alone."
Lambert put down the glass, still looking at the distance. He was quiet for a few seconds and then turned to Y/N, to face her.
"And what if she's not alone?"
Y/N's lips parted. She didn't expect him to say that. She expected him to made fun of her, to mock her for being scared, to ask her why she's so pessimistic – but this? She didn't expect this.
"W-what do you mean?" she asked quietly.
"You could find someone. Why didn't you?" he asked. Y/N let out a quiet sigh.
"Because I'd rather be alone than with someone who's not right for me." she said, looking him straight into his yellow eyes. He looked away first.
"I guess you're right." he said and few seconds later stood up on his feet. "Come on, love. It's time to go inside. Or maybe you'd like to hang out with Foglers tonight?" he asked while holding out his hand for her. Y/N grabbed it and stood up on her feet.
"I already have monster by my side, I'm good." she joked. Lambert rolled his eyes, suddenly grabbed Y/N and tossed her over his shoulder. Y/N screamed but started laughing and holding her hands tightly around his upper body.
"You really talk too much for someone who lives alone in middle of nowhere, granny." he said, walking towards Y/N's cottage. She chuckled. Lambert opened the doors of her small cottage and headed towards Y/N's bed.
"And you're way too-"
Y/N didn't have time to finish. Lambert threw her down on her bed and Y/N screamed again.
"You're an asshole!"
"And you are a nasty screamer." he said, proudly smirking.
 Morning came and Lambert was ready to start his journey. Kear Morhen was almost a whole day ride from Gelibol and he didn't want to waste a whole day horse-riding. Y/N helped him prepare and packed him more food than he actually needed but Lambert gave up on convincing her he won't need that much. He secured the last bag to his horse and slowly approached Y/N who was standing at the front door.
"So, this is it, love. All ready for the road." he said. Y/N smiled softly, but he saw the sadness in her eyes. It was always there when they said their goodbyes, Lambert recognised it.
"Safe travel, Red Wolf." she said, laying her hand on his chest to touch a wolf medallion. He lowered his eyes on her hands then slowly pulled her closer, cupping her face. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead.
"Be good, darling. And be careful." he said. Y/N only slightly nodded, with a gentle smile over her lips. Lambert let go of her, and headed to his horse.
He waved to her as he was speeding up the horse, not knowing this was the last time he will see Y/N.
 Only a month later, Lambert came back to Gelibol. The whole village was surprisingly quiet but Lambert didn't mind it because although he was a frequent visitor some folks would still give him the dirty looks as he was passing by. He scolded himself for speeding up his horse as soon as he saw the road that led to Y/N's cottage but held that speed anyway until he reached the small house. It was dark and late, so when he didn't see lights inside, he didn't think much of it. Maybe she's already asleep. He dismounted his horse and approached the door. Then he abruptly stops.
The door. It was broken down. He instinctively grabbed the silver sword from his backs. He focused his hearing. Nothing.
"Y/N?" he called cautiously.
Silence.
Lambert knew she wasn't there. He couldn't hear her heartbeat. Or any heartbeat for that matter. But he stepped inside anyway.
His medallion gently trembled at the sight of magic in the air. Lambert tightened the grip of his sword. Cottage was a complete mess. Beds were pulled around and pushed up against the wall, herbs were everywhere, food was on the floor, rotten. Something horrible happened here.
He was about to turn over the piece of parchment paper when he heard it.
Wings. Large ones.
He turned around and ran outside without hesitation.
Then he saw her.
A bruxa.
Gray, broad-winged bruxa. Just a few meters away from him.
"Fuck." he muttered, lifting his sword up, ready to cast a Quen Sign.
But then something odd happened. Bruxa didn't attack. She looked at him for a couple of seconds, with her wide, white, hungry eyes and opened month full of sharp teeth and then, suddenly, she fully transforms into a bat form and flies away. Lambert still didn't lower his sword. Maybe that was bruxa's way of messing with him. She seemed hungry for blood for sure. He couldn't relax just yet.
Not when Y/N wasn't safe.
He kept his guard up, watching the dark sky every now and then but bruxa was gone. Why did she let me go that easily? Did she already get Y/N?
He rarely felt helpless. It wasn't a pleasant feeling and usually, he would fight it of quickly, but now, he couldn't. Not when Y/N was not next to him.
He collected himself and took a big breath. He couldn't smell any human smell. Just bruxa that just took off, some flowers near the river bank and herbs from Y/N's small garden.
This didn't happen today. The smell vanished weeks ago.
Lambert frowned and looked around. He didn't have a trace to follow. It could take days before he finds something to track her down. He cursed and turned to his horse and jumped up in the saddle.
He needed the help of his brothers.
 Lambert looked like a mess. And felt like one too. He rode back to Kear Morhen, explained to other witchers what happened and managed to get some of them to join him. Now, he was back to Gelibol, in less than 24 hours. His horse was on the verge of collapsing. Lambert knew he wasn't supposed to do that. But he had no choice. He had to find her.
"Where do you want us to begin our search and rescue?" Eskel asked with arms crossed on his chests. He looked around, scamming the village in the distance.
"Lambert...where are the villagers?" Geralt asked quietly, looking at rooftops. Lambert looked at them as well. No smoke from the chimneys. Lambert frowned but stayed quiet.
"Did that damn bruxa massacred the whole village?" Eskel asked, nervously looking around.
"I don't know. Could be. Not many people leave their houses to greet me when I walk by." he said, not trying to show how badly he was hoping that those people were still alive and not bruxa's weekly meal.
"Boys!" the sound from behind the cottage called for them.
Eskel, Geralt and Lambert immediately turn around and follow the voice.  It was Vesemir. He was standing just a few meters away from the river. He turned around.
"Does this look familiar, boy?" he faced Lambert and lift his hand. The crescent moon necklace. Lambert cursed quietly.
"Yes. It's Y/N's."
Vesemir sighed and dropped the necklace in Lambert's hand. Lambert holds it, clenching it like his life depends on it.
"The smell is weak but we got something."
 Few hours later they got to the dead end. The trace ended deep into the forest, just in front of the small cave. Cave was empty, cold and full of plumards so they left as soon as they finished their search, not wanting to test their luck with encountering powerful vampires.
"So, this was a waste of time." Eskel said, while they were returning to the village.
Lambert ran at him, pushing him against the nearest tree.
"You, shithead, how-"
Geralt and Vesemir grabbed him, pulling him away from shocked Eskel.
"Lambert, calm down. You're tired, worried and exhausted. He didn't mean anything bad." Geralt said, facing him and making sure he catches the look in his weary eyes.
"For fuck's sake, just leave me be. I'll find her myself." Lambert pulled away, but Geralt didn't give up just yet.
"Listen. We will find her. Vesemir, Eskel and me. You will rest now."
"Like fuck I am, Geralt. Move."
But neither him or Geralt had time to even make a step. The whole world spun before his eyes and then suddenly everything went black.
 When he woke up, Lambert immediately knew what had happened. His own brothers used Sign on him. He rubbed his face and scanned the space around him. This can't be.
He stood up as quickly as his legs let him.
He was back at Kear Morhen. Why did they give up?
Lambert left the room and ran to the main hall. The hall was full of witchers who spoke and ate but as soon as the first one noticed him, the whole hall went dead silent.
"Where is she? Why am I here?" Lambert yells and his voice echoes through the hall. Vesemir stood up first.
"Come, boy."
 Kear Morhen wasn't as big as it seemed at first. Lambert knew every room and every corridor but when Vesemir took him downstairs to dungeons, he couldn't help but wonder why are they there.
"Why are we here, Vesemir? Stop wasting my goddamn time! Why did you use Sign on me?" he asked nervously. Vesemir lifted one finger to silence him and continued quietly walking next to him . Lambert was beyond angry at this point.
He was just about to protest again when Vesemir stopped in front of the small cell at the end of the corridor. It was dark but Vesemir didn't bother with lighting any torches. Instead, he turned to Lambert, with mixed look of sadness and seriousness.
"She's here, Lambert. Whatever you do, do not open the cell. It's protected with magic, too."
"What-"
" I'll leave you two alone now. " Vesemir said and gently touched his shoulder before leaving. Lambert was stunned. What a hell is happening? Why am I not allowed in?
He waited until Vesemir left the corridor and then slowly approached the cell. He touched the cold metal of cell doors. His medallion trembles.
"Y/N?"
Nothing. Silence. But as soon as he looked at the farthest corner of the room, he saw something. Or someone.
Its darker than hell here.
Lambert used Igni Sign on the closest torch and the whole room brightens immediately.
And then he sees her. He gasps, moving a step away from the cell.
"This can't be happening." he shakes his head.
The same bruxa that attacked him was in front of him. Face turned, dressed in a simple white underdress. But now, seeing her in 'human' form he immediately knew.
It was Y/N.
He grabs the bars and shakes them violently.
"Y/N! No!" he shouts, his voice cracking. Her head slowly turns and finally she faces him.
"Lambert." she finally speaks, her voice slick and soft, but with no emotions in it.
"What happened to you?!" he yells, shaking the bars again. She didn't seem upset. She didn't seem like she feels anything at all.
"I thought you witchers would recognize a bruxa when seeing one." she said, not showing any emotions in her voice again. Lambert swallowed hard.
"Y-you can't be a bruxa. This doesn't happen-"
"But it did, Lambert. As you can see." she interrupted him and turned her face again towards the wall. Lambert's legs betrayed him. He fell down on his knees, holding onto the bars.
"This can't be happening. Not to you." he says quietly. Strange sound, similar to ironic laughter, leaves Y/N's lips.
Lambert looks at her. His heart drops when she looks directly at him.
"So, when are you going to kill me?" she asks him. The question is hanging in the air. Lambert feels like it's not meant for him. And like the question wasn't about the woman he adored with his whole heart.
He looks at her and slowly stands on his feet again. His lips part but nothing comes out.
And then he storms outside.
 "How the fuck is this possible?!" he yells, opening the doors of the main hall. They hit the wall behind it and crack in one place.
Geralt, Eskel and Vesemir are the only ones looking at him. The rest of his brothers do not dare to look up.
"We...we don't know, Lambert." Vesemir starts.
"But she doesn't want to tell, either. She barely said a word after we caught her." Geralt adds.
Lambert leans against the table and punches it with his fists. Eskel slowly approaches him from the side.
"Lambert, she slaughtered the whole village. They were all dead, in their houses." he says quietly.
Lambert doesn't look at him. He knew Eskel wouldn't lie. But that just didn't seem like an actual truth. It couldn't be. Y/N helped her whole village. She was well known and loved there. She loved living there. She couldn't hurt any of them.
"Lambert-"
"I heard you!" he yells and then finally faces Eskel. Eskel gently touches his shoulder, forcing Lambert to look at him.
"You know what we must do now." he finally says. Lambert stands still and stops breathing.
"Is this why you captured her?! Just so I could kill her here!?" he yells, completely aware of his voice breaking.
"Lambert, she's a bruxa!" Vesemir raises his voice a little. The old witcher steps closer to Lambert and crosses his arms on chests.
"I KNOW!" he yells and rubs his face, pacing around. He takes a deep breath and turns to Vesemir again.
"I know." he repeats, this time quietly. "But I'm not letting you kill her. Not before we try other options. If this is some kind of a curse-"
"It's not a curse." the female voice from other side of the room interrupts him. Lambert turns around.
"Merigold." he says quietly. Young redheaded sorceress was leaning against the pillar, with her hands crossed on her chest.
"It's no curse, Lambert. She was bitten. I don't know how or why she survived that transformation, but she did. And she's not the person you once knew." Triss explains.
"She knows who I am." Lambert frowns.
"She does, but she doesn't care for you. She sees every single person in this room as a feeding source. Yourself included."
"I refuse to believe that." Lambert says, but not completely honest. He knew very well how bruxa's mind worked. If they let humans live, it was because they had use of them. If they didn't, that human would be long dead. Just like residents of Gelibol.
"You believe what you want." Vesemir adds. "But she is dangerous, Lambert. You know that. And she...she has to go."
Lambert looks away, not wanting to catch anyone's look.
"Give me a day." he asks quietly. Silence of the room was tiring. Vesemir spoke first.
"I can't. Triss' magic that's surrounding the cell will be gone by midnight. You have until then."
Lambert's heart drops but he nods after a couple of seconds of hesitation. He turns around and leaves the room, heading to the dungeons again.
 "Back already? I thought you won't show up until tomorrow. Maybe with an extra silver sword too." Y/N says, her voice flat. She was facing the wall of her cell. Lambert sits down on the floor in front of the cell.
"You know I won't be the one to kill you." he tells her. Small smile escapes her pale lips but she's still not looking at him.
"Aren't you merciful." she says quietly.
Lambert slams his fits against the bars, partly standing up on his knees. "Look at me!" he yells. Bruxa slowly turns her head, her white eyes staring into Lambert's.
"I know you're not the person you used to be. But I refuse to believe you don't acknowledge how I cared for you or how close we were." he said his voice trembling of agitation.
"I do remember. But since I'm going to die, it does not matter." she shrugged her shoulders and finally gets up from the cold floor. Lambert's throat tightened when she approached the bars.
"It matters to me. I didn't want this for you." he answers, still looking at her vampiric white eyes.
Suddenly Y/N hisses at him, grabbing the bars. She immediately regrets it. Bars burn her hands and she shrieks in pain, letting go of it. Lambert looks away, knowing that magic was source of her pain. He couldn't do anything about it, even if he wanted to. Triss' magic was supposed to keep her in and he agreed on that.
"Fuck, Lambert. Suddenly, you're full of concern and love for me! You didn't care as much when I was just a pathetic human. You feel regret, not a sympathy for me. Because, if you did, we wouldn't be here right now!" she yells, showing her vampire teeth.
"You know that's not the truth-"
"Oh, spare me your pity speech, witcher!" she interrupts him, rolling her eyes. "If you cared, you would take me with you when we had that talk about leaving my village. You knew I'd come with you. I was in love with you, for fuck' sake." she yells, throwing her hands around in the air with annoyance. Lambert lips part but he stays quiet, frozen in place.
"Oh, did that come out of nowhere for you? Because it's not new for me, for sure. It's been months. Hell, it's been years."
Lambert knew he had to say something but this all felt too much for someone who's emotions were modified by elixirs.
"I-I think I knew that." he says quietly, aware how unsure he sounded. But the moment the words left his lips he knew they were truth.
"And you did nothing about it. So, what's the point of you being here now?" Y/N asks, leaning her backs against the wall. "To torture me? To ask me for forgiveness because now it's too late to discuss those things? I don't know what you want from me, Lambert." she says, her voice suddenly filled with tiredness. This was the first time she sounded like her old self. Lambert exhaled, looking down. He had to tell her the truth. She deserved it, no matter how late it was for it to matter.
"I just...I think you deserve to know the reason for my behaviour." he finally spoke. Y/N waited.
"You mattered to me, Y/N. The more I wanted you to matter to me. It's just...I thought if I kept my distance, you'd be safe. I couldn't give you the life you deserve. I had to do what I was made to do. And that's why I couldn't give you anything. "
"You gave me hope." she says, but aware it wasn't entirely his fault, but hers as well. "You came whenever you could. You visited me even when you didn't have a work to handle around. So, excuse me for feeling like I mattered. Or that you felt the same." Y/N adds.
"Witchers don't have the luxury to fall in love." he says quietly, trying to catch her look. And he finally did with those words.
"But?"
"I did."
"But too late." she says, tilting her head to a side a little. He looks away.
"Too late." he confirms. She looks at him for couple of seconds, like she's trying to read his mind.
"So, again, what do you want now, Lambert." Y/N asks quietly.
"I don't know." he admits after a few seconds of complete silence. Small smile escapes her lips. It was a sad smile, he knew that. Lambert realizes she finally let down her guard now. If it wasn't for her new vampiric appearance, he would think he was talking to old Y/N.
"I want you to forgive me." Lambert suddenly says. Y/N lifts her head a bit.
"For?"
"For being too late. To save you from the bruxa that did this to you. For not realising sooner that you deserve to be loved no matter how difficult it was for me to do it. For not showing how I felt before it was too late. I know it doesn't change anything, but I had to tell you."
Her eyes were just looking at him for a couple of seconds and then she lowers her look to the ground. "You're forgiven. witcher. Now, let me die. And never think of me again." she turns her back on him and walks to the darkest part of the cell, letting him know she doesn't plan on speaking to him again. This was it.
 Lambert was outside, watching the snow on mountain tops surrounding Kear Morhen. The moon was full and bright. This was a first time he regretted being at home.
Suddenly a short scream comes from the inside of castle. Lambert runs inside, trying to figure out the direction of the noise.
The dungeons. He runs faster, feeling the heart dropping to his stomach.
He rushes into a corridor that led to Y/N's cell. There she was, laying down on the corridor floor, barely conscious. Vesemir was standing above her. His hand was holding silver sword, soaked in blood. Y/N's blood.
As soon as he realized Lambert was standing there, he withdrew.
"You shouldn't be here." Vesemir tells him. Lambert ignores him, slowly approaching to the half-dead being laying on the floor. She was dying, peacefully and calmly.
"Why is she so still?" he asks, without looking up at Vesemir.
"Triss gave her a sedative. She's completely calm and doesn't feel any pain."
Lambert crouches down next to her and grabs the cold hand that was laying down on her stomach. It was so cold.
"Thank you." he says, his throat tight. If she had to go, Lambert was glad it was this way. Vesemir gently squeezes his shoulder and starts walking towards the stairs.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Lambert whispers, tightening the grip on her hand. Y/N looks at him, briefly aware of his presence for a moment.
"Lambert." she barely whispers. Then, her eyes went completely still.  
"I'll never forget you, love." he whispers and slowly leans over her, cupping her face with his shaky hand. His lips gently touch hers, and for a split of a second, she responds to his kiss. Her lips were ice cold, but Lambert doesn't flinch. It lasts for barely a second but his heart starts to beat faster.
Y/N's hand gently squeezes his for a second and then she's still again. This time for the last time.
She was gone.
Lambert closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sob.
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cafedanslanuit · 3 years
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♣   —   summary: when you told armin to pick up eren’s call while he was fucking you, you weren’t expecting things to escalate this quickly. not that you were complaining.
♣   —   pairings: armin x reader, eren x reader, armin x reader x eren
♣   —   chapter tags/warnings: oral sex (receiving), spanking, humiliation, degradation, semi-public, degradation kink, rough sex, mirror sex, alcohol and drugs.
♣   —   a/n: thank you so much for all the love you’ve been giving this story so far! it makes me so happy you are all enjoying it so far. when i finished this chapter i realized the influence of halsey’s ‘strange love’ had lmao so if you have a chance, check it out. also this is a eren centric chapter while the next one will be centered around armin c: 
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chapter four: the bathroom sink
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“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Last chance.”
Armin nodded, a soft smile on his lips. You were sitting on his bed, wearing a tiny black dress and high heels. You crossed your arms and legs, a small frown on your face.
“I’m sure. You’ve been wanting to go to Pieck’s party for a long time so you should go,” he said. “I just have too much work. I- my planning skills failed me,” Armin laughed softly.
“Can’t you do them when we get back? It’s the first party we’re attending with Eren. You know since…” you made a funny face, making you both laugh. “It was supposed to be fun for the three of us.”
Your boyfriend walked from his desk to his bed and cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your pouting lip.
“Have fun for me,” he said, your frown deepening. “You look really, really beautiful, though.”
“How beautiful?” you teased him, leaning your head against his palm.
“Enough that I’m having a hard time telling you to go instead of staying here with me,” Armin replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“Fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.
“C’mon. Tomorrow morning I submit my last paper and we can have lunch and then watch some movies together,” he offered.
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he smiled. You grinned and grabbed his face, placing a lot of small, chaste kisses on his lips, loving the way he giggled at your action. “Go have fun, I promise I’ll come with you to the next one.”
“Not the same without you though,” you reminded him, pulling away and lacing your pinky fingers together.
“Yeah, but Eren’s going, right? You can have fun with him.”
Your eyes immediately shot up at him. “Fun?”
“You know, uh- fun ,” he shrugged, a light blush covering his cheeks as he put his hands inside his pockets. It took you a couple of seconds to understand what he was implying.
“ Oh , okay,” you said, nodding your head softly. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I mean it’s him, so,” Armin shrugged. You nodded and took his hand to your mouth, placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Still gonna miss you, though.”
Armin smiled, pulling you closer for one last kiss before you left his dorm.
• • •
Pieck’s parties were always a huge success. She only used to throw them twice a year and maybe that’s why they were so special. Everyone sent some money to her and she would make sure to buy enough alcohol and weed to keep everyone satisfied the rest of the night. A part of you thought it was almost impossible everyone’s donations could cover everything but Pieck always seemed more than pleased to put some of her own money for the party.
You had been friends with Pieck for quite some time now, hence why she let you bring some of your friends to the party. Last year you had brought Jean and Armin with you, which led to Jean and Pieck to start dating. You liked how good they looked with each other and that Jean had finally closed the Mikasa chapter and was trying something new. Pieck always seemed calm and collected, loving to nuzzle on Jean’s chest whenever they sat together. Nevertheless, you had also seen her break up a fight with her bare hands between two guys bigger than her. Since then you had a newfound respect and admiration for the brunette.
“Hey, where’s Armin?” Jean asked as he opened the door to let you and Eren inside.
“Got caught up with some projects,” you answered and Jean clicked his tongue. Eren and you took off your jackets and gave it to Jean for him to leave them in Pieck’s room.
“Sucks to be him. Porco and Reiner brought really good weed tonight,” he said as he made his way to the corridor.
Eren and you went to the living room, finding Pieck and her friends already starting with the bong. She complimented your dress and you grinned at her, spinning so she could see the back of it as well. After earning a couple of whistles from Pieck’s friends, you sat beside Eren.
“New dress?” he asked.
“Mmhm, bought it when Pieck said she was throwing another party,” you said. Eren laughed.
“I don’t know how you do this. I put on the first thing I saw in my closet,” he confessed and took the bong from Pieck. You took a moment to eye his black shirt and dark jeans.
“You don’t look so bad,” you commented, shrugging as Eren took a hit. “Is it really good?” you asked.
He hummed. “Want some?”
“I’d rather drink tonight. And last time I mixed weed and rum-”
“Yeah, I remember you sitting by the window with lost eyes like you were in another dimension” Eren chuckled, taking another hit. You hit him with one of the pillows to which he laughed harder.
Ever since the first time you had kissed him, Eren had made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him. He behaved the same way he always did whenever he wasn’t thrusting inside of you as Armin stroked himself.  Somehow it was really comfortable to know your friendship wasn’t in danger, that even if it had shifted to something entirely different he still found it in him to playfully nudge you during class or let you copy his notes if you shared a class.
One hour later, Pieck’s place was packed with people. The music was loud, big speakers filling the apartment as people danced around. Pieck had set a table only for booze and you couldn’t count all the bottles even if you tried. Whiskey, vodka, rum and cans of beer were on display for anyone to take and even if everyone already looked more than a bit tipsy, there was still alcohol to spare.
You watched amused as Eren played beer pong with Reiner, the cups filled with one shot of vodka instead of beer. Reiner won by a very short difference, which made Eren call a rematch, which he finally won. You played your own match with Porco but with beer, winning the match on your first try and making sure to remind him every chance you got the rest of the night, laughing at his pouty face. After dancing with some of your friends, you spotted Eren sitting on one of the sofas and went to sit next to him, asking how he was doing. Even if he swore he was okay, you noticed his head slightly swaying. You suggested dancing it off.
Next thing you knew, one of Eren’s hands was set on your hip as the other was placed on the small of your back, while you had your arms around his neck. The way his hips moving filling your mind with ideas of you riding him, his cock deep inside you as he grabbed your hair in his fist. Your eyes locked on his green ones for one moment before quickly shifting your gaze anywhere else but him. Even if you knew that if you were to make an advance he would be more than willing, you kept repeating to yourself that you weren’t alone. Pieck’s entire apartment was filled with people that knew you were Armin’s girlfriend. Honestly, most of them would take a second look if they saw how close Eren and you were dancing
Eren’s thigh moved forward until they were between your legs, your hips moving on their own against him. You cursed under your breath and then let out a small chuckle, looking back at your friend.
“You’re such an asshole,” you said. Eren raised his eyebrows, amused.
“Am I?”
Before you could reply, Eren had taken both of your hands and in a swift movement, made you spin until your back was against his chest. Not letting go of your hands, he placed them on top of your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch as he kept moving his hips to the beat of the song.
You felt as if every vodka shot you had taken with Pieck had gone straight to your head at once.
“Keep dancing,” Eren whispered against your ear, his voice sending bolts of pleasure directly between your legs.
Moving your hips to the music, you tried to focus on anything other than Eren’s semi-hard cock grinding against your ass. You looked around, afraid someone was going to notice but everyone seemed to be occupied on their own. You noticed Pieck straddling Jean on the couch as she danced on top of him, some other couples making out against the walls or dancing even more lavishly than you and Eren were. Still, you felt your knees getting weaker as you kept feeling his breath against your neck.
You arched your back and started throwing your hips back, your ass bouncing against Eren’s crotch along with the beat of the music. You felt his hands tensing over yours, grabbing your hips much harder as you danced.
Maybe nothing else would have happened if you hadn’t looked over your shoulder. Maybe someone would have whistled and you would have been brought to reality, remembering what everyone thought your status was and how inappropriate they were acting. But you did look over your shoulder, eyes locking for a couple of seconds with Eren, which was more than enough for him to drag you to one of the bathrooms and locking the door behind you.
Eren kissed you roughly as your back hit the bathroom sink, his hands roaming around your body.
“Wait, fuck- can we- is it okay if he?” he tried to ask in between the kiss, his body and mind colliding against each other.
“Yeah,” you said breathless, running up your hands across his back. “He said it was fine.”
That was all Eren needed for his hands to travel up your legs and underneath your small dress. He tugged on your panties and lowered them to the ground and you stepped away, letting him pick them up and storing them in his back pocket. He stood up again, his lips colliding with yours as he grabbed the back of your thighs, helping you get on the counter. His mouth travelled down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses until they reached the mount of your breasts, pressing his face against them and nipping on the skin gently, making sure not to leave marks.
He started lowering, kissing your stomach over your dress with his green eyes on yours as he sunk to his knees. His fingers trailed your skin from your ankles up to your thighs, spreading your legs apart gently until your pussy was in front of him. You looked at him, chest rising up and down from your ragged breathing as you watched him leave small kisses on the inside of your thighs.
“Only fair you get to come on my face this time,” he said. Not even the music outside the bathroom was loud enough for you not to hear him clearly, your legs twitching at his words. He smirked and pulled your legs apart wider as he trailed up a slow path of small kisses to your pussy.
As soon as he pressed his lips against your folds, both you and him noticed how wet you were. He hummed, the vibration of his voice making you breathe heavily, biting back a moan. Eren licked across your slit, collecting all your wetness with his tongue. It was the first time he was going down on you and damn if you weren’t already lightheaded. Plus, the fact you were doing it in your friend’s bathroom with everyone outside added a sultry element you seemed to enjoy.
Eren placed his mouth on you again, his tongue drawing teasing circles around your clit. You whimpered, your hand going to tangle on his hair, messy bun a bit dishevelled. He groaned against you, loving every time you pulled his locks and used the flat part of his tongue on your clit, earning new moans from you. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he pushed the other one a little further apart, his mouth still moving on you.
He sucked gently on your clit and you threw your head back, hitting yourself with the mirror.
“Fuck-- Eren, please ,” you panted, your hips bucking against his face. Eren dug his fingers on the plush of your thighs as he kept moving his tongue, getting you closer and closer to your limit.
Eren began lapping exactly where you needed him, a hand shooting to your mouth to muffle your sounds as you whined. Your other hand tightened its hold on Eren’s hair. He let you keep his head in place as you rolled your hips against his face, setting your own rhythm as he saw you search for your high. As soon as he noticed your hips stuttering, its movements desperate, he grabbed your legs still again, his tongue directly playing with your clit.
You came on his mouth, a hand over your own as you tried your best not to make too much noise. Eren stayed a couple of moments after your orgasm, giving your pussy slow, delicate licks to help you ride your orgasm off.
“Told ya’ I owed you,” he huffed playfully, making you remember what he had told you after the first time you had given him head. You chuckled as he stood up, kissing you languidly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, your body reacting to him as if you couldn’t do anything else but press yourself against him.
Your hands started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed your neck. Long ago you had come up with the rule of not leaving any marks on your skin. As much as you loved finding bruises and love bites whenever you were showering, you preferred that to be a thing just between Armin and you. Since you had made that request, Eren had been extremely gentle whenever he kissed your skin, letting his lips drag across your skin teasingly before placing a soft kiss.
“How do you like it?” he asked.
“Huh?” you asked, letting his shirt fall to the floor, your hands caressing his toned chest.
“Well, this is a fantasy,” he said, pulling away so he could look at your face, his lips brushing against yours. “So I want to make you feel good.”
Eren didn’t miss the way your legs clenched on either side of his waist. He went back to kissing the other side of your neck as you made up your mind, hands roaming around his back and hair as he did so.
He didn’t have to wait long for your answer.
“I want you to be rough with me,” you sighed. Eren pulled away once more and looked at you, one of his hands palming your breast.
“How rough?”
“Until I tell you to stop,” you breathed out, your back arching at his ministrations. Eren nodded and kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you once again started losing focus of everyone that was happening.
In that moment, your mind was filled with his hand playing with your tits while the other one went back to your folds, his index and middle finger rubbing soft circles, making you moan against your mouth. Eren pulled away from you and you watched him take out his wallet and then a condom from it. He put it between his teeth and then undid his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles along with his underwear.
You could never get used to seeing Eren’s cock. A part of your brain still was shocked as you tried to remember this was your new normal, getting railed by your friend with your boyfriend’s permission. Your hand closed around his length and you started pumping him, his tip already leaking precum. Eren ripped the condom package and rolled it over himself all the way to the base.
You leaned over to kiss him again, this time his lips moving rougher on you. You tried locking your legs around his waist, wanting to feel his cock against you. Instead, Eren grabbed both your legs and yanked you down the counter and onto the floor. You stumbled a bit on your high heels but he quickly turned you around and bent you over the bathroom sink.
Eren lifted your dress until it was resting on your waist, your ass exposed to him. He parted your legs with his foot and then lined up his cock with your entrance. Only a couple of inches inside you was enough for you to let out a high-pitched moan, your hands grabbing on the faucet desperately, the stretch making your head spin.
A hard slap fell against your ass.
“Keep it the fuck down. Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s friend has his cock inside you?” he hissed. The determination of his voice made you clench around him. Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your hair up, forcing you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.
You watched your eyes and parted lips as Eren kept pushing inside of you, a whimper escaping your lips once he bottomed out. He took your hands and put them against the mirror. His own hands slid down your back until they settled on your hips. He started thrusting against you, your breath creating a fog on the mirror in front of you. You let your head fall, biting your lip as he kept moving his hips.
One of Eren’s hands went to your jaw, making you look at yourself in the mirror once more. You could not only see your face flushed with desire but also how his hair was almost completely loose and falling over his forehead as he kept thrusting against you.
“Look at yourself. You love being fucked as a slut, don’t you?”
Once again his words stirred something deep inside you. You desperately tried to hold on to something, your hands sliding down against the mirror until you positioned them correctly again. Eren smacked your ass hard again.
“I asked a fucking question,” he grunted, giving a particularly harsh thrust.
“Yes- fuck, yes, I do,” you panted. Eren picked up his face and you felt your legs falter. “Keep going, please.”
His hand went back to holding your head up by your hair, the other one gripping your ass firmly. Eren’s grunts were barely audible due to the music outside but made you melt every time you heard them. You started moving your hips back, meeting his thrusts as you did your best not to make too much noise.
Eren slapped your ass again, making you clench against him. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath and let his hand fall on your ass once more. Only a couple more thrusts were needed for you to come around him as well, one of your hands flying to your mouth to try and muffle your loud moans.
You heard Eren curse again and fasten his pace, letting go of your hair and settling both his hands on your hips. His orgasm followed a few moments later and you heard him groan, his cock twitching inside of you. You squeezed him as he came down from his high, earning a soft chuckle from the man behind you.
“Stop, I literally have nothing left,” he joked, removing himself from you and discarding the condom in the bathroom bin.
You laughed along as he helped you stand up again, lowering your dress in the process. Thanking him, you looked at your reflection again, cleaning the eyeliner smudge on the outside corner of your eyes and fixing your hair. Eren pulled up his underwear and pants and once his clothes were back in place, he handed you your panties that he had put inside his pockets.
“I can’t come out of this bathroom holding my panties,” you reminded him with a soft laugh. “Can you like- keep them for a moment? Once we leave this place you can hand them back.”
“Sure, sure,” Eren said, putting your panties back in his pocket. You looked at each other in the eyes and couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.
“I’ll leave first, wait a bit before going outside,” you instructed him and Eren nodded, leaning against the counter and taking out his phone to keep himself distracted as he waited.
Nobody noticed you leaving the bathroom, nor the funny way you were walking. You grabbed one of the beers from the table and plopped on one of the sofas. You observed your surroundings and wondered if time had really passed as everything seemed to be the same. Jean and Pieck were now making out in the same sofa she had been dancing on and nobody spared a second glance at you.
You felt someone sitting down next to you, opening a can of beer as well. You turned to the side and saw Eren, his hair tied on a half-bun again and looking visibly refreshed. His eyes locked with yours and he smirked.
You clinked your beer cans. You sure knew how to keep a secret.
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