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#me: it's been almost two years how can you still create stuff. also me: oh look i have this idea.
mulansaucey · 1 year
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Bat Wives Wine Night
AZRIEL X READER
This is my first thing I’ve put out to public eyes...ever. So please be nice. I had this idea for awhile and this is mostly a teaser to what I truly want to write. I want to make this a full imagine with smut. If you like this idea and want to see a spicier version to how this night ends please let me know. I’m always open to criticism and always looking for advice so as long as we are nice about it let me know what you think. Im gonna start writing more stuff and will be open to requests. Thank you and I hope you like this little teaser. 
PART 2:
WARNINGS: drugs and alch used responsibly, dirty thoughts by the bat boys
CONCEPT: The bat boys finally realize what their mates are up to on their top secret Wine Nights 
“Oh my gods…you’re right” Feyre softly said. 
     Feyre, Nesta, and I were sitting at the River House sipping on wine and enjoying what we call Bat Wives Wine Night when I had the realization that our husbands have had 500 plus years of experience and fun while us wives are in our 20’s being depressed and stressed for majority of our lives. This was unacceptable and not fair at all. We deserve to let loose and live a little. Go drink til we throw up, smoke mirthroot and tobacco as we pleased. To just be stupid, reckless teens. A night where we didn’t have to be perfect, just ourselves. We all looked at each other with understanding that our simple little wine nights just became a lot more fun. 
    “Okay ladies, once a month like we do now we keep letting our mates think we have wine, eat cheese on a platter and gossip. But let’s just go crazy, do whatever we want because we feel like it. Because we can. We’re young, hot, and rich. Let’s just be stupid, not enough to be dangerous but enough to have some memories to laugh fondly at just like our darling husbands. We are Bat Wives, I say we give them a run for their money.” I declare loudly watching my High Lady’s eyes light up with mischief (just like her mate). Nesta’s feline grin gave me the approval I needed from her. Thank the Mother our mates were not here to hear us declare our secret fun. 
    “Our mates will find out though, eventually. Cass is nosey, drills me on what happens on our Wine Nights. Such a gossip…” Nesta whispers the last part. 
    “Plus your mate is the Spymaster…” Feyre concludes by taking a sip of her wine. Yes he is, my beautiful, sweet, loving mate. Azriel. We’ve been married and mated for over a year now. I met him at a time when I swore off love at the nice age of 19 years old. But he was so kind and patient, building up our friendship first and making me feel seen as a person. He is a wonderful male and he had to fight many battles to get where he is today. But I am not Azriel, I’ve barely traveled out of my own court. Our perspectives can be quite different which I love but I want to create my own experiences as well. After the war, after almost dying I realized life can be taken from me at any moment and I want to spend those moments knowing I made good memories. That I lived. Even if it’s once a month with my sister in laws doing something as silly as smoking mirthroot. It’s something to ease the soul, bonding between just us girls. 
    “So what? Let’s see how long we can go til they figure it out. Make it a game, see how far we can go before they find out just how unhinged we are.” I giggle just a bit tipsy. The girls and I burst out laughing and start planning what we should do next month. 
*TWO YEARS LATER*
   Two years and counting. Our darling husbands STILL think we have a quiet night in with some books and snacks. It’s truly comical. It’s also nice to know something they don’t. 
“I’ll miss you.” Az murmurs in my hair, holding me til I walk into the River House front door. I tighten my arms around his waist and breathe him in. He takes a step back looking at me, love and adoration flowing through the bond between us. Az looks heart eyed, as if seeing me for the first time. I can’t tease him because I know for a fact I’m looking at him with the very same look. 
    “Can you guys just make out already so we can start drinking?” Nesta says unamused. I jumped back from Azriel, startled. When did she open the door? Nesta walks further away from us into a deeper part of the house. I turn back to find Az already looking at me. Something about Azriel is he is absolutely clingy in the best way possible. Physical touch and quality time are his love languages, any time we have to part it’s a bit dramatic because we simply hate saying goodbye. It’s the love I’ve always wanted. I love the Wine Nights as he has nights with his brothers to get away but nothings better than coming home and finding my place within his arms. 
    “If you ever wanna leave early just let me know and we can cuddle and I can go down on you.” Az’s cheeky grin showed proudly. I laugh while pushing him, he grabs my wrist playfully holding me to him. He brushes some hair from my cheek and presses his smooth lips to mine. We stand there for what feels like hours just feeling each other's breath mingle, when he glides his naughty tongue against my lips I pull away. Both us panting I say, “Go Az, before I actually ditch them for you.” I giggle. He very reluctantly peels his hands off my body and shoots up the sky with a wink, surely a promise of great fun when he picks me up tomorrow morning. 
        With the mating haze slowly leaving my brain a new found giddiness found its way in. We’ve started doing full on sleepovers instead of a few hours of mingling. That way we can return to the River House and clean up before our mates return to us. Truthfully it started after Feyre had way too many tequila shots and threw up for two hours begging us not to call for Rhys as our “cover” would be blown. I skip into the River House and take a look at my girls. 
    “Ready to fuck shit up?” I ask. “We’ve been ready, we were betting if you two would actually fuck on my front door.” Feyre says as fill her cups with wine, pregaming for later. Nesta laughs while grabbing my hand leading me into Feyre’s room. She has the biggest bathroom and closet for these occasions. We all start getting ready putting on our preferred style of makeup and clothing. Laughing loudly as we gossip about Beron’s hairline that keeps going further back as each year passes. We truly don’t know if it is but we all love roasting that horrible man. Once we are satisfied with our looks for the night we get ready to winnow to Veela, a club the IC doesn’t frequent too often. It’s newer and doesn’t have the huge crowd Rita’s does. It’s perfect, truly. We won’t run into anyone we know, not too crowded, but fun and rowdy. We pack the leftover mirthroot and tobacco from last month and winnow to the club saving us some time. We walk right in finding our usual table free in the corner. 
    “Let’s start with some shots ladies.” Nesta yells out heading to the bar, I’m a bit scared because Nesta’s choices in liquor are questionable at times. Feyre and I start people watching and laughing as we see the funny things the already drunk patrons are doing. I start rolling a blunt and a few j’s also a few cigarettes as I tend to want to smoke one after a good drink or two. Nesta comes back with the shots and our preferred mixed drinks in hand. We raise our glasses cheering for another successful Bat Wives Wine Night. 
    About an hour or so later we are tipsy, Nesta not so as she prefers to smoke mirthroot. Her struggles with drinking have lessened, she has a drink or two while she watches Feyre and I dance on tables. Nesta nursing a joint between her fingers swaying to the music she loved. Nesta says the plant helps her feel connected to it. Whatever, I don't care as long as we do what we want and feel safe doing it. I am a fan of both, I hop off the table and take the joint between my lips taking a long drag before exhaling into her mouth as we both giggle uncontrollably. Her red eyes meet mine, seeing Nesta relaxed and having fun is a privilege and I’m glad she feels safe enough to do so. We all love our mates but I think being with each other brings a new peace to our hearts. Sisters and friends, we are loved. For the first time in a long time we are loved. Her eyes widen, face slack as I laugh and turn I start coughing inhaling sharply as I see them. 
Our husbands. 
Our mates. 
Staring. 
    I gently pull Feyre off the table where she was dancing with two other fae, gently pushing her head to make her see what we see. Feyre chokes on her breath. 
“Shit…” Feyre mutters. Shit, indeed. 
*BOYS POV*
    Flying to the House of Wind, Azriel thought of his sweet mate. Years they’ve indulged their wives in their one night of secrecy. They deserved it, for being selfless and caring. Their mates have sacrificed a lot for them, for the Night Court. But they are busy bodies at heart, they can’t help but be curious. They love their wives, they just want to be included. Azriel lands on the balcony to see Cass and Rhys nursing a glass of whiskey. He walks in and pours himself a glass. 
    “Az, what do you think they do all night?” Cass says looking into his glass, pouting. Rhys looks unamused, Nesta probably told him off for being nosy. “Cass, they’re women. They drink their wine and dish about the new love interest in the books they read. Don’t think too hard you’ll hurt yourself.” Rhys chuckles as Cass throws a pillow at him. Rhys ducking slightly missing the pillow. 
    “I’m not but you know what I’m talking about. They smell like tequila and there’s traces of makeup and good perfume on them. Think about it, what do our mates truly get up to?” Cass says. Azriel sits and starts to think while Rhys and Cass get into it. Azriel the ever observant once couldn't have missed this right? He trusted his mate, knew she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Right? 
    Rhys stands after an hour or two of them not so obsessively tracking back to all the times they’ve had their Wine Nights. “Let’s go to the house now, we’ll say we forgot something. Catch them off guard.” He looks at the boys in confirmation. All their eyes light up in glee of possibly catching their mates doing something scandalous. But how they underestimate their wives is truly amusing. How they didn’t catch on after two years, even more so. 
    They set off for the River House when they landed there was silence. No giggling or tinking of wine glasses. Nothing. At first panic rushed in thinking someone hurt their mates but once they reached the master bedroom they saw clothes strung across the place, makeup and hair products messily sitting on the counter. The girls usual PJ’s on the floor. They went out.
     Cass scoffs, “I knew it! I KNEW THEY WENT OUT WITHOUT US! HA RHYS, I TOLD YOU!” he booms loudly, happy to be right and Rhys to be wrong. Azriel immediately makes a plan to find them, sending his shadows out. Once he gathered they were in the city they set their sights there. They went to Rita’s, not a trace. They searched restaurants and pleasure halls, Azriel questioning the staff there. They learned not only did they go out tonight but have frequented these places multiple times, without them. They were smart, Az gave them that. The girls used cash wherever they went instead of billing them, going as far as to use fake names and backstories when they would stop by the herb shop to purchase mirthroot and tobacco. Something they did not know their mates indulged in. For a second they questioned their mates, if they truly knew them. Now they for sure were set to find out answers. Azriel’s shadow reported to him they were across the city in a new club. 
    The music was pounding, drunk and high fae dancing or sitting and laughing. Azriel first spotted his High Lady and mate dancing on a table top, Feyre pouring tequila down his mate’s throat. Azriel couldn't lie, the sight made his pants tighten, seeing the hard liquor pouring down his wife’s very low top trickling onto her breasts. Watching her throat bob up and down, very similar sight to when she has him in her mout- “WHAT THE FUCK!” Rhys exclaims though it sounds more like a whisper compared to the very raunchy music booming in the background. Az notes that though Feyre lets loose at Rita’s and has fun, Feyre looks unhinged. As if she wasn’t the High Lady of Night but a 20 something year old who was having fun. Azriel laughed as he watched with his brothers, they stayed in the corner out of the way but still in eye sight of their girls. He watched his mate get off the table and steal the joint Nesta was nursing, blowing it in her mouth. Cass watches just as intently, in fascination and horniness. “I didn’t know they did THIS on their wine nights, I didn’t even know Nes smoked at all.” Cass says. He’s starting to wonder just how nice it would be to get Nesta this relaxed then fuck her for hours under smoke induced love making. Rhys is no better, watching Feyre swing her hips against the strangers around her. Wanting so badly to take her in the bathroom. But first it’s business. 
“Alright, brothers. They’ve had their fun now let’s crash.” Rhys said with a smirk. All together they marched towards their mates and stood waiting for them to realize. All had a mask of indifference though they really wanted to burst out laughing. One by one each girl’s head turned and paled. 
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nescaveckwriter · 1 month
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Just One More🌟
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Line: Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this 😱 will be in bold
A/N: YAY! Yet another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🐞 ... I heard the song from 'Little big town' and it was just too perfect, I had this idea, and well it ran away with me . 💕 I sure do hope y'all enjoy this ...💕
Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language🫣, angst,😱 heartbreak,🥺smut.🥵
Characters: Beau Arlen x Female Reader.
Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.
Words:2464 😅
The smell of freshly brewed coffee, fills the air, the brownish - gold liquid getting poured into the white cup, stirring in a few drops of milk, as the mug touches your lips, the liquid warms the inside of your mouth, the bold, bitter taste awakening all your senses, almost swirling around the liquid before swallowing, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to hold out reality a little longer, rubbing your fingers over the printed logo, 'M...R...S' a smirk, on your lips, regretting that you took the mug of the set of two 'Mr. & Mrs.' mugs, gold  lettering, like the wedding bands, you were so excited the day you picked it up from the little décor shop, on your honeymoon, looking back now, it seems like a  lifetime ago. The footsteps, coming from the guest bedroom, let's your eyes flung open, revealing the half-open boxes stacked everywhere.
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The deep Texan, in his voice, almost echoing through the half packed up house, "Morning" he clears his throat "Uhmm, how do we..." Before he could finish his sentence, you look at him, your eyes throwing darts at his green-hazel eyes. "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this"
A little sarcastic giggle escapes his lips, "oh yeah! Well we'll have to deal with this sometime"
You get up out the chair, standing straight up, but your husband, well soon to be ex-husband still towering over you, revealing how much smaller you are than him. "I said, I don't want to deal with this right now, can't I just have one last quiet morning in our... Uhmm in this house"
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Irritation evident in his voice "listen, I just want this to be over so that we can go on with our lives"
"Well so sorry, I'm taking so much time, to just pack everything up and throw away the life we built" you hissed
"Excuse me! We both made the decision to get a divorce"
 You voice barely audible "yeah I know" swallowing the emotion in your voice "I just got back from my shift at the hospital and I just need to freshen up first, then I will help sorting through the stuff okay"
His voice soft, "how was your shift?"
As you put the coffee mug in the kitchen sink you whisper "it was okay, we lost a patient today, bad car accident"
His eyes saddened as he knows how much it affects you "I'm so sorry darl..." He stops himself before finishing his sentence.
You just walk away, towards your once shared bedroom, knowing he most probably wanted to say darling, the little pet name he always used for you.
As you get into the shower, letting the hot water run over you, you let go of the hold on the floodgates behind your eyes, sobbing frantically now, holding your hand over your mouth, so that you can dampen the noises, your body shaking, as your mind drift, to the events of the past few weeks, you and Beau both agreed to get a divorce, the two of you got so busy with every day life, that the two of you started to drift further and further away, its so ironic the same jobs that brought the two off you together, is also tearing you apart.
The two of you met, while he came in, with a knife wound to his arm, and as you treated him, well it was love at first sight so too say. As you fall down, cradling your knees as the water runs over you, recalling the years you've been together, you always thought getting a divorce at your age won't happen, but well your here now. The thing that breaks you, is no-one cheated, the two of you just fought all the damn time, and him being Sheriff and you being a ER doctor, working mostly night shifts, you were living past each other, when you got home, he's leaving for work, and when he gets back home, your leaving for your shift.
You can't even recall the last time you two kissed, never less touched. You were so in love, so passionate and now all that has gone too hell. Getting up, and stepping out of the shower, opting out for a pair of your favorite worn out jeans, with a old t-shirt, not realizing it's one of his shirts, but hey, it's already on you, so what the heck. Throwing your hair into a messy bun, you don't real seem to care how homeless you look as your heart already feel homeless.
Glancing through your bedroom, everywhere boxes labeled his and hers, as you two are going to put your house up for rent and then split the profits between the two off you. As you take the bottle of perfume, spritzing it in the nape of your neck and some on your wrist, a small smile forms on your lips as you remember, Beau gave it to you for your birthday last year, he always did take such notice in the smallest of details. But that memory crumbles quickly as you see the stack of divorce documents, on your dresser, both of you agreed to sign it when you where done sorting everything in the house.
You rush down the stairs, furious and determined to get this over and done with, unsure of how much your heart can handle. Peeking through the living room, you don't see him anywhere, then you catch a glimpse of his brownish hair getting tossed in the wind as he sits on the porch with a cup of coffee, you always did like the way the moonlight danced in his eyes, the way the little garden lights revealed his freckles, oh damn you love his small freckles, that stained his cheeks and his nose, and not too even talk about his perfectly kissable lips. What the hell is wrong with you, your about to divorce that man. You just turn around and walk towards the living room, starting to sort through some stuff.
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Getting up out of the wooden chair, holding the mug in his hand, his rough calloused fingers running over the lettering 'M...R' , his eyes squinting as he recalls the day you got that, on your honeymoon.. well that and books, both off you liked too read, but well there weren't much reading done those two weeks, he was too busy exploring every single part of your body. As he peeks into the house, seeing the way your kneeling, looking through what seems to be picture albums, he can't help but to admire the way your body fills out his shirt, the way you've got your hair up with loose strings off hair, framing your beautiful face and neck, a smile tugging at his lips, as he recalls how ticklish you were as he placed loving kisses, sending shivers down your spine. The sound of you giggling always made him feel alive, you made him feel alive, made him feel whole and now, well now his left with a hole in his heart.
Dammit what's the matter with him, his about to divorce that woman, how can he feel this way, is it just the memories, of your shared home, your shared love, why did all of these feelings have to rush back, how is he suppose to just simply act like he wants this, because he sure as hell does not want too loose you, but he loves you too damn much to not give you what you want, a chance too be happy again. So he'll go through with the divorce, knowing both of you said that's what needed to be done, so he just wants this over and done with, he can't stand being in your presence and not kiss you, not hold you, not tell you how much he loves you.
Spending the rest of the hours in an awkward silence, as the two of you sort through the memories that was build. But it's you who breaks the silence, kicking a empty box on the ground "it's 2 in the morning, I'm going to bed"
He's not really sure why he was so irritated by your comment but he started snapping at you "what? we should finish this, now"
Your jaw drops, you roll your eyes "excuse me! I'm tired" you bite your lower lip, but then decide to say it anyway "I'm tired of pretending that it's fine being in the same room as you"
A smirk on his plum lips "oh, its that bad being around me?" 
Crossing your arms in front of you "you said it, I didn't" 
Shaking his head "Woman you are driving me crazy"
"Oh yeah! Well you are driving me insane" you snap back
He strides closer towards you, his deep husky voice "is that the best you can come up with"
Throwing your arms up in the air "why do you want to make me angry" her voice brittle "is this what you want, me breaking down in front off you"
For a few seconds there was a softness in his eyes, but then his jaw hardens again "you have no idea what I want woman"
Enraged now "just leave it, all of this take what you want and give the rest away, I don't give a damn anymore, I'm done, with this, with you, with us, with everything"
He can't help but to examine the way your lips move, when you scream at him, he always did find you very sexy, as you were furious, going on about something, the way your whole body moves as your anger took over you, the way your hips swayed, when you'd explain what he did wrong, but by then you've lost him, he was too busy inspecting every little nose crinkle, every movement you made. Without any warning he cups your face, his lips crashes against yours. When he finally pulls away, both off you trying to catch your breath. For a few seconds you just stood there, your voice breathy "we... we can't do this" you turn around, but he grabs ahold of you, holding you in his arms, your back against his chest, his hot breath by your ear as he whispers "darling, tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go" it send shivers down your spine. 
Merely a whisper that escapes your lips, "kiss me Beau, as if you never stopped loving me" as his fingers trail down your neck, raking the loose hair away, through the kisses he places down your neck, to your collarbone, his fingers sliding the t-shirt over your shoulder, his lips, trailing against your skin, a low roar escapes his lips "I never did stop loving you darling"
Those words coming from him, makes you turn around, looking up towards his eyes, searching those hazel-green orbs, for any indication, how he truly feels. Placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard underneath your touch, you know you're probably going to regret this in the morning, but your fingers trace down to his lips, as if you want to take in this work of art. Standing on your tippy toes, leaning in so that you can taste his lips, just one more time. 
He claims your lips, as if he was starving, your tongues doing a passionate dance, his right hand holding the back of your neck, and his left hand holds on to your lower back, as he pulls you in even closer, not breaking the kiss once, your hands raking through his hair, as you want him closer, closer than ever before. He pushes you against the wall, tugging at the hem of your shirt, helping him to remove the clothing, through the kisses, and heartbeats racing, his hand roams your body, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, but as he makes his way towards the couch, not breaking the kiss, he knocks over a stack of boxes, making him stumble and come to a fall, you lay on top off him, both of you laughing so hard it echoes through the house, its the first time in a long time that this house have heard so much laughter, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, and as you two lay there on the floor in front of the fire place, exploring each other as if its for the first time, not saying much, just sweet little moans, and whimpers escapes your lips, as your bodies does the talking for you. Not really sure, when but sometime during the early morning hours, both of you have fallen asleep, entangled, skin on skin, wrapped in each other's love. 
You've woken up, by his calloused fingers running up and down your back, your head on his chest, slightly lifting your eyes too study his face, his glancing up towards the ceiling, a smile on his lips, his eyes almost sparkling, as he realizes your awake, he looks down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead, "Morning Darling" you smile as you sweet voice greets him "Morning babe"
He starts laughing a little "so last night happened" you mockingly hit his chest, "Not funny, were supposed to get a divorce" 
He looks at you, eyes filled with love "about that! I don't want to divorce you, I want to be your husband, forever like we vowed" 
Stunned "what! I thought you wanted this"
"No, somewhere during yesterday I realized, I still love, you. No! that's a lie, I never did stop loving you"
A smile forming your lips "Neither did I, I was so frustrated, I wanted you, this , us our house, but I was too afraid to say it."
Sitting upright now, taking you hands in his "Darling, that's what I want, I want us too, we can work it out, we can get through this can't we?"
Pulling the throw, a little tighter over your body, as the crisp morning air, makes you shiver a bit. "Babe I think we can, we should just make time for each other."
Nodding his head, making his longer brownish hair fall in front of his eyes, a smile forming on his plum lips, revealing the age lines around his eyes, "Yes my sweet darling, I agree, but what do you say we tear up those divorce papers, and give the two of us just one more try"
A laugh escapes your lips "Yes, a million times yes. I love you"
Leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, this time, gentle little kisses as, he whispers through the kisses I.... Love... You... Too... Darling"
You can't help but too smile through the kisses knowing your heart aren't homeless no more, your home in your husbands arms. As the two of you come up for some air, you glance at the boxes stacked everywhere, half of the house is packed up, you smile at your husband, "babe, we just have to do one more thing!"
Confused he looks at your beautiful face, "Yes my darling, and will that be."
Laughing now, "we are going too spend over off weekend unpacking and moving back into our home"
A mischievous grin on his face "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this" 
The two of you burst into laughter, taking in each other, knowing there's a lot of work to do, not just the unpacking but the rebuilding of your lives together. But with your husbands hand interlacing yours, you know that it's possible, anything is possible, with the person you love the most, by your side, ready to fight for your marriage and content in knowing you love each other, you sat there with your head resting on his chest, as you watch the fire place , the way the flames dances in a fiery passion after it's ignited, brings you nope, knowing, just one more try is all you need.  
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bluedalahorse · 2 months
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I think I’ll say this once, since I need to say it before I can move on to more excited posting about promos and things:
Obviously Young Royals means a lot to me. It’s become another way for me to connect with my hyphenated-American heritage and to start teaching myself Swedish again. It helped me survive a pretty brutal year of bullying at work. It made me confident enough to start the process of getting formally evaluated for autism and ADHD. I’ve been writing a 200k+ historical AU fanfic for YR—the kind of fic I always read and adored back in fandoms when I was younger, the kind of fic I wanted to write myself. I’m proud of the way that Heart and Homeland has made me a better writer, and I’m glad for the way it’s deepened my friendship with @heliza24. It is Young Royals in part that inspired by thesis on restorative justice in YA literature. When I was in the hospital last fall because I almost had a literal stroke from stress, I was comforted and kept calm by the fact that I was wearing a YR t-shirt and had a plush doll of a YR character sitting in my lap. And all of that is the short list.
As we come close to the release date, I hope that every single member of the fandom gets something they enjoy in the new season. I don’t think every person is going to get everything they want, but I genuinely hope there’s a moment, a scene, a line that brings them joy. We’ve all stuck with this series for a while, and I want us all to have something we can take with us. A little bit of sparkle for the road, if you will.
There’s of course the possibility that some of us get a lot of what we want, and others of us are let down. I know this was the case for season 2, and it feels naive to imagine that everyone in the fandom will be equally satisfied by season 3. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll enjoy the hell out of it, but I’m also trying to prepare my heart in case it’s not what I wanted. I’m trying to gently talk to myself right now and say that even if the third season leaves me upset and unsatisfied—even if the writing takes a nosedive or it’s good writing but it’s just not what I wanted—that I still learned a lot about crafting stories and being myself and surviving hardship and thinking about systems and whatever else, from this show. That my experience with the first two seasons still matters, that my work on my fic is something to be proud of. If season 3 is a disappointment, Heart and Homeland will be my new canon. I’m sure there are other people out there talking themselves up in this way too. I know we’re all pushing through the pre-season jitters.
The other thing I’m trying to reconcile right now is how I feel about the promotional material that’s come out, and the conversations around that. Like on my own, I actually feel pretty great? It’s fun to see the new stuff come in? But then I think about the ratio of Wilmon to other things and some of the responses I’m seeing to that. And I see people say like “oh the show is back to focusing on what’s actually good about it” and “it’s great that they’re doing this because the audience doesn’t really care about characters who aren’t Wilmon.” And… hello? Aren’t I the audience? Tumblr isn’t too bad (most of the time) but then there’s like, Instagram, where the Netflix Nordic posted whole set of photos of different pairs and friendships from a whole bunch of shows, and there was one (1) picture of Sara and Rousseau and I saw enough comments where people were like “ew! Vomit! Give us Wilmon instead!” that like… y’all. Frida Argento is a human being and a damn good actress, and Lisa is a good writer of female characters, and like. We can celebrate that, once in a while. We can create space for her too. It’s not Frida OR Omar and Edvin. It’s Frida AND Omar AND Edvin AND Nikita AND Malte AND Nathalie AND Mimmi AND Fabian AND Samuel AND… look I could keep on listing but I’m going to get distracted if I do.
Like, man. I love Wilmon. Don’t get me wrong. I love the complexity their relationship can run with. There are lines heliza has written for them in fic that make me swoon and I am giddy about the part where I get to read them first. I love the glowsticks. I love Wilmon’s sense of humor and the part where they cheated at Vincent’s rowing race thing and their utmost commitment to being dumbass teenage boys against the world. The first week I saw the show and came into work (where we have an athletic field) I went and took a selfie on the field after covering my hands in those gross fake dots. Look. I am all in.
And also… I came to the show for Wilmon but I stayed for so much more. I would have watched Young Royals once or twice and said “that was pleasant” without ever getting back into fanfic after a decade away, if the show was only Wilmon. I do like Wilmon, but it wasn’t Wilmon who inspired my thesis on restorative justice or made me a better writer overall. I survived that year of bullying at work because I could come home and write my ensemble fanfic, especially the parts where I focused on the non-Wilmon pairing I was in charge of writing. I finally felt confident enough to be evaluated for AuDHD because of a connection I felt to a character who wasn’t Simon or Wilhelm. It was a plush doll of a non-Wilmon character who sat in my lap and kept me calm while I was hooked up to those scary machines in the hospital this past October.
I guess my one humble request is that people be thoughtful about how they use phrases like “everyone thinks” or “no one wants.” Not every member of the fandom has the same opinion, and not every member wants the same things out of season 3, and there are some of us who are happy about the new Wilmon content but who are still feeling a little hungry for more of our most beloved characters, and hope they’ll get meaningful storylines (and not get ignored) in season 3. I do know we probably won’t all get what we want, and that some of us will probably get more of what we want than others. I hope that whatever happens, we’ll all get something we want, and we can all be gracious about it, and continue to find meaning in the canon.
For the people here on tumblr who are already including me in their everyone… thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you know who you are and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. And I do hope this Little Fandom That Could can keep going into all sorts of new creative places.
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pxrplebxtterfly · 1 year
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Feeling Warmer? (Dean)
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18+
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem reader
Warnings: blood, nudity, oral sex, penetrative sex, nothing too dark bc this is my first fic ever.
Summary: Dean shows up at your door freezing and bleeding.
Word count: 3k
Notes: This is my first fic!! I’ve never written anything like this before so if anyone has any advice, please let me know! Also, this fic is in first person but does not use any particular name for the reader. Also, this same fic but for Sam, will be posted on my account. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy! (all gifs belong to me)
❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀
I've known him for two years now. Within these two years, I’ve found myself attracted to him more than I’d like to be; especially because he’s a friend. But there’s something about his character that stirs something in me.
As a self proclaimed “good” witch, I focus my craft on helping others. That's how I met Dean and his brother Sam. 
Both hunters, they kill monsters like me; except I'm not a monster. I met him when he came to town on a case, hunting another witch. Locals talked to them about me and they confronted me at my home. Before killing me, the other witch appeared, to watch them kill me and then to kill them. 
Either way, before they could hurt me too badly, I was able to recite a spell and trigger the hex bag the other witch stood under. She sparked into flames and burnt to ash in my doorway. 
Realizing I had helped them, they decided to hear me out and let me explain myself. I told them how I was raised by a wiccan, that was devoted to nature and the ways it can be harnessed to do good. 
They let me live, noting I was still mortal. Since then I've been helping them occasionally, when they need it. 
I hadn't heard from them in a while until one of them, the one I've always liked more, shows up at my door.
“Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?” I ask.
Dean's standing on my doorstep, the cold, dim light from the porch lamp creating deep shadows over his tall form. Snow is piling up outside, coating my lawn and the fields around my house. 
He’s covered in snow, soaking wet, and almost frozen, making him shiver intensely. There’s dried blood from small cuts on his face. 
“Demon” he pants.
Bruises are starting to form on his eye and jaw. I grab his wrist to pull him inside and feel that his skin is like ice.
“Jesus, come in, I’ll start a bath for you, you’re freezing” I say, feeling his large hands between my own. I walk to the bathroom and kneel next to the bathtub. I turn on the hot water and the water starts to fill the basin. 
“What happened?” I ask.
“I was a quarter way to the city and my car ran out of gas. I knew it was something else when the gas meter was still on half a tank. A demon pulled me out of the car and roughed me up a bit but I've got the knife so I was able to… get away” he hesitates and adjusts his words appropriately but I know what he means. “Out here, you’re the closest to where I was” he explains, teeth chattering and pain in his eyes.
“How long did it take you to get here?” 
“Forty-five minutes maybe” he says, hugging himself and still shivering.
“Where’s Sam? I didn’t know the both of you were in town,” I ask, getting up from my knees to face him.
“He’s with Bobby in Tulsa working on a case. I was on my way down there, and was hoping to make it by morning.”
“Why weren’t you with them?”
“Since when did you become so inquisitive?” 
I roll my eyes and say “Nevermind, I was just wondering”
Steam begins to rise off the water's surface and that’s when I say, “Okay, cmon get this stuff off.”
He begins to pull off his jacket but has trouble with his cold, stiff muscles and frozen clothes so I reach over to help. I pry his jacket off and then lift his shirt. He shivers when I peel his shirt off his back. 
I can't help but admire his tanned, muscular torso, chest, and arms. I sometimes forget just how enjoyable his body is to look at. 
“This is so pathetic” he says, and looks so shy about needing help.
“No it’s not, your clothes are frozen to your skin, just let me help you” I say.
Without thought, I sit on the edge of the bathtub and begin to unbuckle his belt. I look up at him and shrink when I see the way he’s looking at me. A look of shock and desperation is painted on his face. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think-” I apologize and remove my hands from his hips. 
He pauses, collecting his thoughts. I stand up, the most embarrassed I've ever been, and wait for him to move so I can leave.
Instead, he says, “It’s okay” softly and cautiously, looking at me. He pulls his belt off timidly and tosses it on the floor next to me. He continues undressing, unbuttoning his pants. I look away from him and let him peel his jeans down and off his legs. 
He stands upright, just in his underwear now, and looks down at me with coyness. Trying hard not to glance down I say, “I don’t want to intrude”
“It’s alright” he nods and slides his boxers off. I don't look, but hear them hit the tile floor. 
I cannot begin to process the fact he’s bare in front of me. I'm so flustered at his lack of privacy that I can't move my feet. So instead, he takes a step past me to get into the bath.
I turn around and watch, hypnotized, as he lowers himself in, big hands, clutching the sides of the tub. I hold my breath watching his muscles work to ease him in.
“Nice and warm,” he says and looks at me. 
He’s so big he barely fits in the tub; thighs pressed against the sides, arms draped over the edge.
Trying to distract myself from his naked glory, I turn the faucet off. 
“Okay, um, I’m just gonna go read a book or something” I say, trying to brush off the awkward sexual tension. 
There is no friendly explanation for the occurrence that has just happened between us, and I need a moment to myself, to freak out alone. 
“Actually, will you stay?” he asks, puppy eyes and pretty eyelashes blinking at me.
“You want me to stay?” I can't understand what’s happening between us right now.
“Yeah, I… I don’t want to be alone right now” he almost begs.
“Oh-okay” I nod and say gently.
I notice the washcloth on the counter so I grab it, and sit next to the bath. The side of the tub cuts off part of my view of him so I'm able to relax a little bit more.
The swarming heat in my body, due to him, makes me confident enough to ask him something I'd never ask anyone else.
“Do you want me to?” I gesture at his cuts on his face with the washcloth. 
“Sure,” he says and sits up.
I soak the washcloth in the water and then bring it up, dripping wet, to his face. I tenderly pat at one of the wounds, dabbing at the blood. I hold his face gently with my other hand to steady my movements. He seethes slightly under my touch and the heat and longing in me increases. His eyes are shut in uncomfortability. 
When I finish cleaning up the cuts on his face, I dip the rag back into the water and then bring it to his shoulder. I rub his shoulder with the cloth and then squeeze it so the hot water can run down his back. As I rub him, I watch his skin and the way the water trickles over him. 
“Thank you” he says, his head hung, hair floppy, and the back of his neck on full display. There's something so tantalizing about it. 
“Of course, you looked like you had hypothermia,” I say.
“Nah, I’ll be okay” he looks over his shoulder at me, as if to say that he’s okay because of me.
I bite my lip in an attempt not to smile but it doesn’t work and I blush. I push myself to my knees and loom over him, trying to get a better angle for my arms. I don't look at what I want to look at, I stay focused on the rag. Even though my core is aching, I'm putting his comfort first.
I dip the cloth back into the water and this time bring it up to his chest. I run it over his collarbones and feel his heart beating fast. We stare at each other while I drag the washcloth over his tattoo and down his sternum. 
He looks up at me, so nervous, yet so bewitched.
Once again I bring my hand back down into the water but this time, my fingers brush something hard. I look down to see what I touched and see his erection.
“Oh, I didn't mean to-“ I stutter and look at him. He's looking right back at me with intense shame.
“I’m sorry,” he pants, “You’re just touching me so gently and you’re being so kind, I- I can’t help but-“
I shake my head, an apologetic look on my face and say, “Oh god, really it’s fine! I’m the one who should apologize, it’s my fault, I should have known, it wasn’t my intention”
He looks away, “I should leave,” he starts to say, but I can hear in his voice it’s only because he’s embarrassed.
“And go where? You don’t have a car, outside’s a blizzard by now, and I'm not driving you into town at this hour, no place will be open" I say, trying not to sound desperate. 
While I completely am, if he’s not okay with this, then neither am I. However, that doesn’t mean I don't want to try to seize the opportunity.
“You’re right but this is really embarrassing and I don't want to make you uncomfortable” he says, almost restless.
“You’re not,” I say, “I- I’m willing to- I just want to take care of you. Will you let me help?” 
This is the moment. The moment I've been waiting for since I met him.
He hesitates, “What do you mean by help?” he asks and looks so infatuated.
“I mean this” I say and go in slowly to kiss him. After I kiss him he stares at my lips for a second, but then kisses me back deeply. He brings his wet hand up to my face, tangling my hair. He caresses my face with his other hand as I timidly slide my tongue into his mouth. Our kissing is passionate and aches with years of unspoken lust. 
I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, and then run them up his neck to hold his face and then back down again. 
I decide to get bold, so I submerge my hand in the water and wrap it around him.
He moans into me, surprised by my boldness. He whispers out “Fuck” as we part and searches my eyes, as if trying to figure out if I’m insane or not. He leans back letting me continue. I begin to pump and he closes his eyes in pleasure. 
His chest is heaving and he’s biting down on his fist to try and keep himself at bay. 
“God,” he hisses, “you’re so good at that”
His hips start to raise and thrust into my fist and that’s when I decide he’s done bathing.
My arms and knees are sore and I need to sit down on something comfortable. I let go of his cock and he groans. 
“Can we go to the living room?” I ask, standing up.
He doesn’t answer, just scrambles to drain the tub and get out.
He follows me down the hallway, damp feet padding behind me. When we get to the living room, the fire in the fireplace is burning bright and I sit on the couch in front of it. 
He has the towel wrapped low around his waist, hardly covering anything.
Before I'm even able to invite him to sit next to me, he’s kneeling in front of me, face hovering in front of my knees.
“What are you doing?” I giggle.
“I just want to look at you” he breathes out, unable to hold back a grin.
“Okay” I whisper and smile.
He peppers kisses on my knees and my thighs, slowly working his way to my core. Before he goes too far he asks, “Can I?” referring to the pajama shorts I'm wearing and I nod.
He reaches up and tugs my shorts off leaving me in just my panties. 
He spreads my legs apart and says, “Fuck, you’re so wet,” noticing the damp spot on my underwear.
He brings the knuckle of his finger to my cunt and brushes the wet patch. I whimper, wanting him to touch me more. He looks up at me and scoffs through a smile. He doesn’t break eye contact as he begins to kiss and suck all over the insides of my thighs.
Naturally, my legs try to close but he keeps me spread with his huge hands, so that he can tease me a bit. 
He pulls back and slips his hands in the band of my panties and pulls them off me.
“Fuuuck, look at you” he drawls when he’s eye level with my throbbing pussy. “Can I taste you?”
I nod enthusiastically, and watch as he kisses my clit. I feel his finger run through my entrance collecting my arousal. He brings his finger to my clit and rubs it gently.
I moan at his touch, and the way he cares to make sure I’m wet all over. Then he wraps his arms around my legs, enabling him to stay nuzzled close to me.
He slides his tongue over my hole. I lean back into the couch. He begins to make out with my cunt and I almost faint from how sexy he is and how good he’s making me feel.
“Jesus” I stutter. His mouth feels so nice on me that I sit back up and hold his head while his nose is burying into my clit. I squeal as he tongue-fucks me and grind up into his face. I run my hands through his hair pulling at it and he moans into me. 
I can’t help but groan from the waves of heat I’m experiencing. I’m almost at my climax but I want this to be drawn out as long as it can, so I decide to stop him. 
I push at his head and he looks up at me, the lower half of his face shiny. 
“God,” I whisper and shake my head slightly, in disbelief at his perfection. 
“What?” he asks.
“You’re just so…” I can’t finish my thought with my head swimming the way it is. 
He laughs at me but stretches up to kiss me. I taste myself on him and it only makes me feel hotter. I pull his body flush against mine and can feel his dick through the towel on my lower stomach. Evidently he feels it too and begins to rut against me.
He pulls the towel off and now his cock is poking at the hem of my shirt. I once again wrap my palm around him and massage his pre-cum into his dick. I rub my thumb underneath the head of his cock and he moans. 
“Oh, do you like that?” I ask sultrily.
“Fuck yeah I do” he replies against my neck. His hands are digging into the cushions of the couch beside my legs. 
I take my other hand and alternate between fondling his balls and pumping along with my right hand.
“You’re so good to me” he says breathlessly, his head buried into my shoulder. He keeps trying to kiss my shoulder and collarbone but fails due to the overwhelming pleasure. 
“I know baby” I say into his ear and kiss it.
He’s moaning and thrusting into my hands, but pulls away so he can look at me. I become even more wet as I watch him get off in my hands. 
“Hold on,” I say and slow my movements. 
He grunts as I slow down and says, “You’re killing me”
It’s because I’ve edged him twice now and I chuckle.
“I want you to fuck me” 
“I can do that” he nods, drunk off his denial.
“Oh good” I reply and kiss him. 
I reach over to the little end table next to the couch and pull out a condom.
He raises an eyebrow at me, intrigued that I keep them close. I hand it to him and let him put it on while I lay back on the couch.
Condom on, he climbs on top of me kissing my stomach up to my breasts, neck, and then mouth. He rubs my clit with one hand and I rock my hips into his palm. 
He’s breathing fast when he pulls away and looks down at my entrance. He swipes his dick through my folds and prods at my weeping hole. 
“Please” I whine, begging him to fill me.
He pushes into me and instantly seethes and moans when my tightness tries to push him out. 
“Jesus” he stutters as he begins to fuck me.
I’m whimpering under him, completely helpless to his massive frame. He’s looking into my eyes while I run my hands up into his hair and hold his body against mine. I can’t stop muttering curse words and babbling nonsense as he hits that deep spot inside of me.
He’s panting and groaning in my ear and I feel myself clenching around him, and building up to my climax.
I reach my hand in between our bodies to help further myself along, when he whispers “I’m so close”
Instantly I’m reaching the edge and so is he. In a tremendous peak, we both come. He continues to fuck into me while we ride our orgasms. I think I’ve gone both blind and deaf with the surge of pleasure I felt. 
As we come down from our highs, he slows his thrusts and kisses me over and over, everywhere on my face. He eventually pulls out and we both sigh, at the feeling. 
He pulls the condom off and flings it in the wastebasket under the end table. 
Then, he lays next to me on the couch and holds me against him. He kisses my forehead again and again while he rubs my arm gently. I bury into his side and drape my arm over his torso. 
“Feeling warmer?” I tease.
“Absolutely,” he laughs. 
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drunkenbagel · 1 year
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Enchanted to meet you - Part 3
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Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: overall fluff, descriptions of panic attack, angst with comfort a/n: i'm so so sorry for being away so long, i somehow lost access to the account and couldn't post anything!! also have been on a kind of writer's block, so i'm sorry for that too lol. for this part i added some media, let me know if you like it :D Word count: 5,5k Disclaimer: none of the photos used are mine and therefore i do not own them, i just edited them.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Your side of the video call stayed silent for a moment, while you were trying to process what Pedro just said.
“y/n? Did I lost you?” he asked, and groaned. “Maldita cobertura de LA” (Damned LA reception.)
“Wha- What did you just say?” you questioned again. “Are you kidding me right now? Because if you are, no te lo perdonaré nunca.” (I'll never forgive you)
”What? I just-” he started another sentence, but he was interrupted by someone asking to take a picture with him. You quickly silenced your mic and turned off your camera, not wanting to be seen by the people he was with. They would probably get the wrong idea, getting him in trouble. Not to mention the controversy and the incessant hate train that the situation would create. You knew Pedro was sensitive when it came to hurt and pain, even if it didn't seem that way just because he brushed it off with goofiness and some jokes. So, you tried your best to avoid any kind of problem that seeing someone like you with him could cause. After a few minutes, he focused his phone on his face again.
“Hey, sorry about that, darlin'” he said with a side smile. “Some people asked- Are you still there?”
You connected your mic and camera again. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't want to disturb you.”
He frowned. “Don't say that. You don't.”
You felt a small pang on your chest, but you brushed it off by jumping again to the previous topic.
“So, what is that thing you were telling me? You're inviting me where?”
“Oh, yeah! I was thinking if you'd like to come with me to Los Angeles. I've got some long filming ahead and was wondering if you'd like to visit me. I'm going to stay at my house here, and of course, as my best friend, you have a designated room” he said laughing. “I could show you around and stuff. You know, to see the beautiful places here.”
“I mean... I'd sure as hell would love it, don't get me wrong or anything” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhm...”
You didn't know how to tell him that you were dying to see Los Angeles since you moved to the United States, but that you were afraid to be outside with him and the consequences that it could bring. You two had been basically best friends for almost two and a half years now, but he was still a celebrity, for fuck's sake. And you were... Average. You always tried to be really careful when going outside with him. Wasn't he afraid of being seen with you? It was easier to blend in the few times you two went out in New York, especially since you preferred to go out mostly at night-time or just hang out at his house.
“Then it's settled! I'll be back there in like a week, and after a few days we can come back here for as long as you like. I think it'll be so fun being here with you, you'll love this! I'll show you so many things here. Oh, I also could show you around the studios, maybe you'll see someone from those crime shows you're obsessed with.”
“Hey! Why the cute rant and then you attack me? Not fair” you said cracking a small smile. “I appreciate your invite, really, but... I don't know, I have my job, my rent...”
“y/n, since your promotion you practically work from home. You don't go to the office anymore. And about your apartment, you always complain about the landlord, the sink, the place itself. Si no es esto, es lo otro. Why don't you move out and look for anything else?” (If it's not this, it's that.)
“I-” you tried to think of any excuses, but he was right. You had been looking for apartments, but it was very difficult to find anything decent in New York with an average paycheck. You sighed, defeated. “Look, I know you're right, but what do you want me to do? Just magically find something?”
He hummed, and brought his hand to his chin, thinking. You almost laughed. It looked like he was thinking so hard. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.
“Here's the deal. I know this filming is going to be at least three months, so how about you stay with me here, and then you can stay at mine in New York? You know you have a room at my place anyways.”
“What? That is not-” You felt your cheeks heat up. How could he be so calm about this? “So that is your solution? You want me to move in with you?”
“I wouldn't say that, it's more like... A temporary solution until you find a place for yourself. You know you practically spend all your time in my house when I'm there! Also, you could stop paying rent for that shithole while staying with me, so I only see positive points here. Am I wrong?”
He smiled at the camera while you ran a hand through your hair, stressed. He had a very valid point, of course, but he said it so casually that it left you a bit dumbfounded. So did this mean that he didn't care to be seen with you? His New York apartment was in a multiple housing building, so it was always easier for you to go in unnoticed. But Los Angeles? You didn't know if that was possible. People there were more used to seeing celebrities, of course, but the anxious thoughts were not leaving you alone.
“Hey, I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable or anything. You know you can always say no” he said with a worried tone.
“I know, I know. I was just thinking...” you sighed. “You're right. But are you sure you don't mind me being there with you? Or anywhere close for that matter? Are you sure it's okay? Because I wouldn't-”
“Y'think I would have said it if I didn't mean it? You're offending me!” he said laughing. “Now, seriously. I'd love to have you around more. You know I miss you when we're apart.”
“Aw, mi Pedrito se enterneció. ¡Te he ablandado! How did you live without me?” you joked. (My little Pedro got soft. I have softened you!)
His could feel his cheeks getting red, but he tried to brush it off. “Anda, cállate. Do you accept my deal or not? The offer is now for limited time.” (C'mon, shut up.)
“Okay, okay! I do accept” you said laughing. “But I'll need help with moving if I have to leave everything at your apartment before going to LA. You help me or the deal is off.”
“You got it” he said with a wide smile. The way his eyes wrinkled while he was smiling or laughing made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute for your heart to handle, you loved it. The way he grasped onto anyone around him while he let out the cutest belly laugh, or how contagious they were.
Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. Pedro loved your laugh, especially when it was shared with him. Oh, how his heart started to beat faster every time you sent him a message. Or how that one time you were video chatting him and you felt so comfortable that you fell asleep still in the call. He ended up just watching you sleep soundly before falling asleep ‘beside you’. And now he was going to have you under the same roof? He felt like he was the happiest man in the world when you accepted. He couldn't believe you did. He had been thinking about asking you since you always complained about how awful your landlord was, or how he refused to fix anything. Truth be told, he wanted to punch that guy more than anything sometimes.
He tried to keep his silly crush for himself, especially since you were much younger than him. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to keep it away from his thoughts. But it was so damn difficult. You were so kind, so caring, and so sweet. He wanted you all for himself, but whenever he thought about it, he always ended up in the conclusion that you didn't seem to show any interest beyond your friendship. That's why he forced himself to act as he was, just your ‘older’ best friend. Who casually just invited you to live with him.
Cool, cool. Totally normal.
As the days went by, you put your leave notice to your landlord and started packing everything. Pedro helped you with all, just as he promised, even using his own car to move the boxes back and forth between apartments. Luckily, you didn't have that much stuff since your apartment was quite small. Time seemed to pass very slowly but so fast at the same time, leaving your stomach to be a flustered mess of nervousness. Soon enough, you both were waiting into the airline row to enter the plane.
“Oh my god. I can't believe I'm doing this!”
“It's hitting you now?” Pedro answered laughing. “Actually, it's making me feel weird too. But the good kind. I like it when I have you around.”
“Aw” you said pouting. “You like it, but not enough to pay for us to sit together?”
“Are you kidding me? I'm not going to pay 50 extra dollars for a seat. I'm already going to see you all the time when we land, don't give me a hard time with it! Plus, we're only a seat apart, eres una exagerada.” (You're exaggerating.)
“Whatever. I'll remember this betrayal.”
“Ugh” he said smiling while he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, we're next.”
The six hour flight went by faster than you expected it to be, especially since you slept for most of it. The chatty old lady that sat in between you two was kind enough to switch places with Pedro halfway on the flight when she saw the way he looked at you uncomfortably sleeping against the plane window, so he put the armrest back and carefully pulled you to his side so you could sleep on him.
You looked so beautiful like this. Softly moving your hair away from your face, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear, and you sighed contently. He couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips.
“How long have you been dating, dear?”
Pedro turned his head to his right, confused. “What?”
“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you married perhaps? It's just that I didn't see your rings so I guessed you didn't pop the question yet. Don't tell me this trip is for that! Oh my, congratulations!”
“What? No! No, no” he said while moving his free hand on the air. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he looked at you quickly in case you had heard the lady, but you were soundly asleep. Then he looked at her again. “It's not like that. We- Uh, we're just friends. She's my best friend. Just that.”
“‘M sorry then, dear. It's just that I heard you two talkin’ about living together, saw you actin’ like you were, and I just assumed. But let me tell ya’, honey, friends don't look at each other like that” she said, briefly patting his thigh while smiling. “My dear Stevie, may he rest in peace, was always lookin’ at me the same. I didn't realize I was in love with him until I was with somebody else, for the love of god! I just assumed he was a good friend and never saw me as nothin’ else. He even helped me with this guy just ‘cause I seemed happy. But you see, honey, he just wanted the best for me as long as I was happy, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness. I almost lost my dearest because I thought helpin’ me to find joy in another meant that he wasn't interested. I can see how you look at her. Don't let that happen to you, honey. Believe me, not worth the time you lose while y’know that you two are just playin’ pretend.”
Pedro only looked at the woman with his lips briefly parted, his heart heavy on his chest. He didn't want that happening, but he could also not risk ruining the relationship he already had with you. He would never do that. Also, he noticed how you always avoided going to crowded spaces or where paparazzi could spot you two together. How could he not? He knew that you didn't like the attention that kind of things attracted, so he respected your decisions over where to meet. Pedro preferred staying with you watching TV or playing games rather than cameras following him everywhere anyways. In fact, he knew moving to Los Angeles was a huge step for you, since it was nearly impossible to go out and not be spotted by paparazzis. That was mainly why he was feeling so nervous about this whole thing, but he hoped that after all the time that you two had been friends for, maybe you wouldn't be too bashful about going out with him, and would let him recognise you publicly as his friend.
He spent the hour and a half that was left of the flight sleeping with his head on top of yours, only waking up when the lady beside him shook his arm gently to let him know that you were landing. He then did the same with you, and couldn't hold back a smile while he watched you rub your eyes and yawn. After getting off the plane you two went for your baggages, and after you managed to put everything in one big stroller, you started walking outside.
“I'm impressed” he said, watching you push the thing by yourself. “I thought you were going to bring your whole house over here. Is this really everything?”
“Well, no” you said as if it was obvious. “Did you think I was going to bring my scarfs, jackets and big sweaters to LA? I'm not-”
You stopped talking when you saw a man with a camera in the distance. He was taking pictures of you. You gulped and tried to laugh, but an uncomfortable chuckle came out.
“y/n? Are you alright?” asked Pedro, a little worried by your change of demeanour. He moved his eyes in the direction you were looking, and then he saw it. A couple of men with cameras, and they were getting closer. “Hey, look at me.” You linked your eyes with his, and he had a soft look on them. “You'll be alright. C'mon, let's take a taxi and get home.”
You nodded and tried to ignore the sound of clicking cameras getting closer. Taking the stroller, Pedro quickly made his way to a taxi and started packing everything up while you got inside. When the men reached the car you heard him say something before he got to the back of it with you and gave the address to the driver. You nervously took his hand with yours and he squeezed it twice, which was his silent way of asking if you were feeling okay. You squeezed it back once. Yeah, just anxious. You two came up with this method after Pedro realized that you sometimes went non-verbal when you were in situations that made you feel anxious, and he wanted to know how he could help. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he left a kiss on your hair while rubbing his thumb over yours. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.
“I'm thinking you won't have much enthusiasm of going out. I understand if you wanna spend the day at home. We can watch a film or something, then order food. Sounds good?”
“Yeah” you answered in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”
“Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're not used to this, and I love you for coming with me to the other side of the country despite knowing the situations that you may have to face. I should be the one apologizing” he said, and kissed your forehead. “I know this will be hard at first, but I want to be able to call you my friend. To talk about you in interviews, or when people ask me about funny stories. And I'm not trying to give you an ultimatum or anything since I understand that you want your privacy, I do too, but with my kind of life, you always have to give something. I don't want you being followed, but at least I want to be able to not hide my amazing best friend to the world.”
“I understand, and I'm okay with it. I didn't just accept moving with you lightly, I knew what I was getting into. And I understand that it may have been difficult not to say anything about me, but I just- I wasn't ready. It's not easy being a celebrity's best friend” you said with a chuckle. “But I also get your point. You have been my best friend for a long time now, and I don't want to hide anymore. I know it's going to be hard, so I need you to be patient with me. More than you have already been, which I'm incredibly thankful for. But it's not going to be something I magically get used to. Don't you think I might also be dying to share you with the world? I'd love to! But I was trying to wrap my head around it. And I did, and I'm ready. So expect me posting about you and your shitty habits everywhere on my Instagram and Twitter from now on.”
He couldn't hold back a wide grin while he took you into a tight hug, and you giggled. “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, y/n. Ugh, you're the best. How did I ever bag this good of a friend?”
“I believe you stalked me for weeks, forced Ernesto to tell you things about my schedule, then waited for me in the café every time like a puppy and called it ‘a coincidence’, right?”
“You're saying it like I'm some creep or something! I just liked how normal you treated me, okay? Shut up.”
After arriving to the house and setting your things on your room, Pedro gave you a small tour of the house. You loved it. Especially the views from the amazing balcony that led to a beautiful view of the city. You two opened a bottle of wine while waiting for the takeout to arrive, and you braced yourself to finally face the challenge: going through socials. You were sure that the photos from this morning were all over the internet already, and when you entered Twitter, you confirmed it. The paparazzi pictures where everywhere, and everyone was speculating on how were you related to him. When the food arrived and he was about to dig into it, you spoke.
“Pedro?”
“Yeah?”
“I think it's time to post it” you said while taking a long sip of the glass.
“That fast?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and showed him your phone. “Okay then, one sec.”
He took out his phone and typed something. A few moments later, your phone chimed, and you stared at the Instagram post you were tagged in.
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“You bitch! You could have picked another photo” you said while laughing.
“I know, but that's the funniest one” he said chuckling too.
—•—
It had been a bit more than a month since the photo was posted, and people were taking it a lot better than you had expected. Some were even asking you to post ‘unseen’ Pedro content. There were also people that insulted you and told you ugly things, but you decided to ignore and block them. Your social media follower count had exploded, and you had a lot of new people interacting with your normal content, but you got more or less used to it.
You had been out together a couple of times, mostly to get groceries and stuff before Pedro began his filming. He made you copies for every key in the house, and also gave you the spare one for his car in case you ever needed it. But since then, he spent a lot of hours out in the studios, so you mostly saw each other at early mornings or nights.
“Hey, I'm free today so I was thinking of going to the beach or something. I know it's not the best weather, but maybe we could take the car and then rent some bikes and go for a ride over there? What do you think?” Pedro asked you one afternoon while eating lunch.
You yawned while nodding. You had tried not to sleep in the Los Angeles daylight, but you were still kind of used to the New York timezone. Jet lag was no joke, and your shitty sleep schedule didn't help either.
“Sure. But I might be a little out of practice, so you better not laugh at me.”
“But that would be the best part!” he said laughing. “Okay then, I'll go for the car. This way I can show you around a bit more than these past weeks.”
He seemed very happy since he made you two public, and it made your heart go soft at the thought that sharing you with the world had that kind of reaction for him. Sometimes you thought that the people would find your friendship weird because of the age difference, but to your luck, it seemed like most people understood the situation a little. Of course, there were the ones that thought it was weird, or that you two were dating but didn't want to tell, but luckily it wasn't that many people.
When you got dressed Pedro drove to Santa Monica beach, then rented the bikes, and it was then when your small tour began. He showed you Venice beach, his favourite places to eat, drink and you even saw a museum from the outside. When the sun was starting to set, you rode back to the bike renting shop and sat in the sand to watch the sunset.
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After it got a little dark, Pedro drove you to a local Mexican restaurant not too far to have dinner. You ordered some tacos and enchiladas, and while eating them both of you talked about how filming was going. He was so excited about it, and he wanted to invite you to set. You told him you would think about it beacuse you too had a job, but you ended up promising you would soon since you could do yours from anywhere and your schedule was more flexible. Pedro had a small desk on the living room so you used it as a makeshift little office.
Unaware for both of you, some people had spotted Pedro at the restaurant and posted it on the internet, which led the paparazzi to the location. They were waiting outside, and when you two realised it, it was too late, since there were already a small swarm of them. Your stomach began to ache with anxiety. This was the first time that you encountered that many together.
“I can ask the staff to let us out from the back” Pedro said after seeing your reaction to the small crowd.
“No, no. I don't want to inconvenience them or anything. We'll just... Go out, and then walk to the car and go back home. I'll be fine” you said, but worry was lingering in your voice.
After getting your leftovers in a small container, paying and gathering your things, you got up and headed to the exit. When Pedro got his hand on the handle of the cristal door, the flashes of the cameras had already began clicking around you. You had to cover your eyes and stop in your tracks for a second, which Pedro used to take your hand and lead you to where the car was a few meters away. Everyone was pushing around and shouting, trying to get his attention.
“Why did you hide her?”
“Did she move in with you?”
“Are you two dating?”
You reached the car, but they were too close. One of them was blocking the passenger door, so you couldn't really get into it. Pedro was already on the driver's side of the car, waiting for you to get in.
“Please move, you're in the middle” you heard Pedro say to them.
The photographers didn't listen and kept shouting while flashing their cameras. They were so close, too close, you felt like your air was slowly getting kicked out of your lungs. But they didn't back off, they just kept moving closer and pushing their way into you to get the best angles.
“Why are you even with her? You can do so much better!”
Pedro turned around to yell at the guy who said that, but he was just in front of you, and while he flinched backwards trying to get away from him thinking Pedro was maybe going to push him, his camera hit your face. It hit you right in the cheek, breaking the skin ever so slightly but enough to make you bleed. You gasped and your head moved down from the impact. You heard Pedro yell your name as he ran to your side, and you could swear the small crowd went silent for an instant before resuming the flashing of the cameras.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pedro screamed at the guy. He took your face softly in between his hands as he was inspecting the spot which you had been hit on.
“She was in the middle, it's not my fault!”
“It's not your fault?” he said tearing his eyes from you to the man, and felt the worry for you shift into rage inside of him. “If you had even a little bit of a brain you wouldn't have to push anyone, you fucking asshole!”
You couldn't hear anything. Everything sounded like it was muffled. Panic was starting to build rapidly into you, making your limbs shake. Your breath was becoming irregular and your hands were sweating. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. You turned your back to the photographers, facing the car and putting your hands against it in an attempt to ground yourself. Tears started forming in your eyes, and you tried not to spill them. You didn't want to cry, not here, not where you could embarrass Pedro. That was the last thing you wanted. You tried to open the car door with shaky hands, and after what felt like an eternity, you got into the car. You crouched down and took your head between your hands trying to stop your head from pounding. Pedro was so fucking angry at the guy. How could he treat you like that? He had no right to do it. He was almost going to punch him but stopped in his tracks when he saw you get into the car and double over. His stomach sank at the sight. He knew what that position meant for you, and without any other word he got into the car and drove away without caring if he ran over one of those ungrateful men.
“Breathe, baby. We're out, I'm taking you home. We're almost there. Steady breaths.”
He kept talking to you in an effort to ground you, but silent tears were already streaming down your face as you hyperventilated. You hated this, you hated messing up everything. As soon as you were home, Pedro got out of the car and ran to your side. After opening the door, he carefully took you in his arms as you clinged to him, still with uneven breaths. He took you to the living room and lowered both of you to the ground.
“y/n, let's breathe together, okay? Look” he said while taking your hands into his and clutching them into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly a couple of times, and you tried to imitate him, but it was very hard for you, which only got you more frustrated and anxious. “It's alright, don't push it. Slowly. There's no rush, I'm here with you. Now, I'm going to leave your side for a second” he said softly, and you let out a small whine. “It'll be just a moment, and I'll be right back, okay? It's alright, I promise.”
You slightly nodded, still shaking and breathing harshly. Pedro quickly got up and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, making his way back to you. He then sat in front of you and put it into your hands, holding them to your chest. Cold always helped you calm down.
“Meanwhile... Let's do 5-to-1, alright? Tell me 5 things you can see.”
After a small pause, you nodded and started looking around. “P-photos” you answered with a small shaky voice. “TV. Kitchen. F-fan. Bal- balcony. Shoes.”
“Good. Very good, baby. You're doing amazing” he said with a smile. “Now 4 things you can touch.”
You looked around and with a trembling hand you touched the rug. Then your pants. Then the sofa. And lastly the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa.
“That's good. Very good” he reassured you again. Positive responses helped you feel like you were a bit more in control. “Now three things you can hear.”
You breathed in and out shakily again, and closed your eyes for a moment. You could hear some faint music from the street, playing not too far away. “M- music.” Moving your head slowly, you heard the kitchen clock ticking. “Clock.” Pedro nodded and gave your hands a small squeeze. A breeze made the trees outside crunch. “Wind.”
“Perfect. That's very good, baby. You're doing great. Now can two things you can smell?”
You looked around again, trying to find anything that came into your ratio. You sniffed the air, and saw the abandoned leftover box in the middle of the room.
“F-food.” Pedro smiled at you and nodded. You looked at him with teary eyes, inhaled and then clutched his shirt. “You. Your- cologne.”
He couldn't stop his face softening or the loving look he gave you. He knew you were just saying it because he was the closest thing you could smell, but he couldn't help his heart from beating faster.
“Very good. Now the last one, something you can taste.”
You had calmed down a little, but after a few moments of looking around, your breath became hitched again. You couldn't find anything. Nothing. Not even a mint or some candy. Pedro saw how your thoughts started racing again, and his smile faded completely, panic briefly washing over him too.
“Okay, okay. Remember, slow breaths. Deep and slow, please.”
Your eyes didn't meet his, frantically looking for something that would complete the exercise. You had to complete it. It wasn't right. Pedro thought of every possible solution, but nothing came to mind. Until it did. But he didn't want to do it. It felt wrong, but he saw you start trembling again, he couldn't just leave you to suffer. He knew how important this cycle was to you.
“Oh, fuck this. I- I'm sorry” Pedro muttered while tenderly taking your face in his hands and bringing his lips to meet yours. Your entire body stopped shaking in shock as your eyes widened. You could taste his minty toothpaste along with your shared dinner. Without you noticing, your breath had become slower because of the air shortage. But Pedro noticed that, and he gently pulled back from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes to meet your still widened ones. For what felt the longest time you two didn't say anything, and his thoughts were the ones that started to race now.
Fuck. I fucked up everything. Why did I even do that? Shit. I ruined it. Now she's going to leave and-
You left the ice pack on the floor, and leaning into him, you snuggled into his lap and put your head on his chest, hugging his waist with your arms. He did the same and held your head with one of his hands, resting his lips on top of it. Pedro was now the one with wide eyes.
What was he supposed to do now? What the hell did this even mean?
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ssreeder · 14 days
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HELLO
I didnt see that there was an update until now and i dont feel like discording and i just read the new chapter so here i am with my few main points bc i dont feel like doing a full live reaction👍👍🫶
Seeing Jeeto come into play in any capacity at all makes me feel like a proud parent watching their children grow. Its always wonderful like those are my emotional support middle aged fictional men. I watched them go from conspiracy to getting crumbs to now their "dates" and gossiping together. Youve gotta love it. Those are my children. Im so proud of them. But im also scared because you killed shen so obviously my feeligns mean nothing to you 🙄😒😒. (Im never going to get over that, im going to be 80 years old in some pst apocolypic enviroment with horrors all around me, but im going to be having nightmares about shen. Ill send you my therapy bill) (im going to get a tattoo in his memory istg)
Also its always really subtle but its funny to see your specific linguistical patterns in liab esp because i can never really explain it. Like ill read a random sentence and be like 'yeah that seems like sreeder wrote it' i just think its neat.
I also really loved zukka this chapter. But i always lovr zukka so its not a surprise. But espesially this chapter because its mostly soft zukka.
"Do you think we will stay together" NO Zukko divorce 🔫🔫. 🙅🏻🔥🔥🔥🙅🏾
The 'moving forward' ness of zukka in liab is so nicely written. Like ive been reading liab since (almost) the beginning and it has been a ride and its starting to feel more conclusive and that is SCARY but its also nice because you write it very well and i adore the way you write trauma and the healing of it and the ups and downs and the two steps forward two steps backness. Its very lovely.
I knew ara was going to have a suicide attempt (esque situation (idk if that counts)) i called it i win.
Idc what others say ara will always be amazing. I love her character SO MUCH
i feel like you can always tell the strengths of a writer in the way they write complicated characters and the way you write ara is very telling of that. Like the fragility and also harshness used for her is very realistic and i always enjoy her parts so much.
Like her deciding to move on independant of how zuko or sokka feel about it is and regardless of whether people thinks she 'deserves it' is immaculate.
And thats a good example on your specific strengths as the author of liab (being able to handle delicate situations well, and realistically and make them very thought out and not rushed, stuff like that).
But her 'i need to start getting along with other girls' is great because like,, RHATS SO TRUE. she is genuienlly one of my favorite characters of all time, i could write essays on why i love her. Exquisite.
REHO MENTION 🥳🥳💪💪💪💪
Thats my emotional support woobified early 20 something year old man. I adore him. If 30 people love reho i am one of them, if one person loves reho i am them if 0 people love reho i am dead (rip rehoes 😔) i will defend his (and aras) good names until i die.
Amazing chapter as always 10/10 *chefs kiss* im so excited for the series to finish and see what you do with everyone and the rest of the storylines and such.
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Every time I think of Shen’s death I think of your utter devastation & how I wasn’t expecting you to be so distraught over it. I will say I had another commenter lately who was talking about how much they liked Shen & wanted an Iroh/Shen/Zuko dynamic and I kept thinking…. Damn it buddy, you’re going to be soooo mad at me in a few chapter haha…. oops.
ugh my linguistic patterns haunt me and I specifically ask my betas to check for them because I feel sooooo repetitive sometimes especially when there’s a lot of introspection lol. So it’s funny you mentioned that lol.
Omg I remember when I was still on RIA & someone in the server was like “dude I’m rooting for some jeeto.” & I was like oh no how do they know??? I created this fun divide between hakoda and bato just to push Bato into Jees arm!! Don’t spoil it haha, but whatever at least Dentys dead
Awwww thanks for the compliments it means a lot coming from you <3 but also yeah Ara is my delicate dumpster fire who says she going to make her existence everyone’s problem (most importantly sokka because damn girl could just LEAVE but she refuses lol) I love it. She’s fun, and any scene with her expect utter chaos haha.
every time I write Reho in a scene my mind says and the crowd goes wild,,, he’s annoying but I’m glad you like him.
thanks for this amazing ask you’re awesome
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space-mermaid-writing · 11 months
Text
Stark Tailoring Inc. [IronStrange]
Summary: After his accident Stephen sold almost everything. But for his new job he needs a suit. So he goes to the place his friend recommended to him: Stark Tailoring.
Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Tags: IronStrange, Tailor AU, fluff, insecure Stephen Strange, no powers, just the regular flirting of Tony Stark, different first meetings
Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 1.8k | Next (soon)
Author’s note: This was inevitable. I knew I would write it one day. You know I’m something of a professional fabric wielder myself. So of course, I put a lot of myself into this Tony.
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Chapter 1: I need a suit
The bell at the shop door chirped up with a new customer entering. Tony raised his head and noticed with a glance that it was not his typical client.
See, his typical clients were rich and beautiful. Although, it was possible that this unknown man hid a handsome face under his scruffy appearance. And that blue Balenciaga coat was certainly not cheap. The pants and shoes seemed old. Maybe he was rocking that hobo chic style that had been in fashion like eight years ago. (The man did seem to be too old for that)
And his vibes weren’t right for that either. He wrung his hands, uncertain, as if he felt out of place.
Maybe he was just lost.
The man let his gaze wander briefly around the store before it lingered on Tony, who was behind the counter sorting cufflinks. “Hello, I’m looking for Tony? Colonel Rhodes told me to ask for him.”
“Ciao. You found me. How can I help you?”
“I need a suit.”
Okay, not lost after all, then.
Tony just barely suppressed a, ‘Well, that’s obvious’, before the words left his mouth. “Sure. Any specifics?” he asked instead. “Occasion? Color? Two or three piece?”
“Two piece. Something simple will do. I have an event in two months.”
Tony set the cufflinks aside and picked up a tablet to take notes. “That’s plenty of time. I could probably make you two whole suits in that time.”
The man looked irritated. “I just need one.”
Tough crowd. Tony, however, wasn’t fazed by it. At least the man seemed to have basic knowledge of suits. Or at least of what he wanted. Tony could work with that. “You have a name, gorgeous?”
The first answer he got was a snort. And, yeah sure, his appearance didn’t make the prettiest impression. He was aware of that.
But Tony hadn't sounded sarcastic, so a second answer followed.
“It’s Doctor Stephen Strange.”
Well, apparently the man wasn’t a hobo but a doctor. Tony still had a lot of opinions about his style choices though. Especially about that fuzzy animal that apparently died on his face and was now called beard.
“Alright, Stephen. I’m gonna take your measurements and then we’ll talk about the details. Cut, collar style…”
Stephen didn’t even have to think about it. He knew he wanted something simple and he had bought enough suits in the past, to know his stuff. “Single-breasted suit, two buttons, common lapel.“
“We’ll see about that.” Tony didn't even bother to look up from his tablet, where he was adding the notes in the newly created file for his strange customer. Then he reached for his tape measure, which he hung around his neck. “Strip.”
“Pardon?” Strange blinked at him dumbfounded. There might be a slight blush creeping on his cheek but it could also be a trick of the light.
“I can’t take your measurements with that airbag around you.”
“Oh.” Embarrassed, the doctor shed his coat. “Yes, of course.” Despite his words, he hesitated and played with the sleeve hem of the next layer. “The sweater too?”
“This will do. Step over here and relax. I’ll be gentle.” Tony always had customers who were a bit embarrassed. Sometimes it had to do with his person. Understandable, considering that every now and then he made an international hit in the fashion industry and branded all fashion magazine covers. Some also simply had difficulties with his personality. Tony flirted naturally and some men felt uncomfortable with that. Sometimes he notched it down a bit. Sometimes he simply blamed it on him being Italian.
He put on his reading glasses and with the tape measure in hand, he went to work. Strange posture was tense. Most people tried to stand as straight as possible when measuring – and never as they usually stood in their daily life. But the longer they had to stand there, waiting, the more they shifted back to their natural posture. And Tony could pass the time very well by talking.
“What color did you have in mind?” Tony asked off-handed.
Strange answered without missing a beat, “Black.”
Tony huffed. “Are you going to attend a black tie event?” He put the tape measure around Strange's chest. “Don’t raise your arms.”
Despite his flirting and outgoing nature, Tony was always professional in taking measurements. His touches didn’t linger longer than necessary, because he wasn’t a creep.
With practiced movements, he took the measurement, then stepped aside to record the number in his tablet and was back in his customer's personal space to take the next number.
“It’s not black tie,” Strange answered Tony's last question after a short pause. It sounded pressed, as if unwillingly.
Tony didn't let that faze him. “You want dark blue. It will make your eyes pop.” He glanced up briefly and winked at him, before turning back to his tablet. “Your date will thank me. Believe me.”
The doctor’s answer was quiet as if he didn’t want Tony to actually hear it. “I’ve got no date.”
“There’s still enough time to solve that problem. Angle your arm like this.” Tony put his one hand on Strange's elbow, the other on his wrist, to move the doctor’s arm as he needed to measure it. But as soon as he touched him, the doctor flinched and jerked his hand away.
The next moment Strange was blushing and forcing himself to stay in pose. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. “Like this?”
Tony nodded, but did not comment on his behavior, instead calmly measured the length of the sleeve from the shoulder to the back of his hand. As he did so, he noticed the trembling of the doctor’s hands and the scars that ran across his skin. No wonder that he had reacted strangely. He was probably pretty sensitive about that.
When Tony walked over to the table to write down the number, Strange immediately hid his hands from further view by pulling the sleeves of his sweater over them.
The rest of the measurements Tony needed for the jacket he got mostly from Strange’s back anyway. Then he moved on to the pants. The doctor was tall enough that he didn't even have to put him on a podium for that.
"Alright, I got everything I need," Tony announced afterwards. "Let's talk about colors. I've got some nice dark blues over here." He walked over to a shelf on the wall where rolls of fabric in various colors were stored. Most of them weren't too exciting – most custom suits that were commissioned remained classics.
Stephen was persisting with his previous opinion. "Black."
Tony looked at himself over the rim of his reading glasses. "Bellino, if you insist, well, it’s your money. But if you wanna show your best side…” He slapped the rolls of fabrics that could fit so many shades of blue in them.
Tony was a tailor first and a salesman second; if he believed in his product. And, oh – Tony believed in every single piece in this shop.
“Apropos money: as long as you’re no regular yet, I’ll need you to pay fifty percent up front and the rest when you pick the suit up.”
Strange paused for a moment. "I can't pay until next month." His words were softly spoken, as if they caused him personal discomfort.
Tony raised his eyebrows. He wouldn’t start working for a new customer before he had seen some money. But if he only started next month, there wouldn't be enough time with making the patterns, the fittings and everything. If he had made something for the doctor before and had a pattern that he knew fit him, it wouldn't be a problem. But for a stranger...
Strange looked visibly uncomfortable. Understandably so, because the prices at Stark's weren't exactly cheap. Only those who could afford it came to him.
"How did you say you knew Rhodey?" Tony asked.
"From rehab."
The tailor tilted his head. “He’s working with Doctor Stanfill.” He knew that because his friend often talked about it and he had already picked him up from there. And Tony didn't know anything about changing doctors.
Strange shook his head.“I’m a patient myself. Because of my hands.”
Tony's eyes automatically slid down to Strange's fingers, which the man nervously hid at the side of his body. He looked away immediately. His mama taught him better than to stare.
“We met at the East Coast Center For Nursing And Rehabilitation,“ Strange continued his explanation, in a way as if he just wanted to say something to avoid silence. “When I told him about the event, he said I should go to Stark‘s for a suit.“
It was rare for Rhodey to recommend anyone, at least so to Tony personally. He trusted his platypus. Tony also knew that the ECC was a place for the more difficult cases.
“Alright, maybe I can make an exception,” he decided. Strange's head shot up. “You pay that first rate as soon as you can by next month. And not a day later, capisce?”
Relieved, Strange nodded.
“I also need you to leave your phone number with me. And don’t think I will hesitate to tell Rhodey if you bail.”
“I will pay you as soon as I can. Thank you.” The doctor remembered one more thing. “Will that be fine with the owner?”
Tony realized that the man was clueless who he was. He suppressed a smirk, but did not enlighten him. “I can handle the owner just fine”, he reassured him instead. “I will accept donuts as a form of bribery though. Oh, and you will happily decide for a blue fabric.” Satisfied that he had had his way, Tony pulled the blue fabric from the shelf.
“I really don’t have a choice on that now, do I?” Strange sounded rather amused.
“You can always buy off the peg at Hammer’s if you insist on black.”
Strange grimaced. “Blue it is.”
Tony beamed at him. “Excellent. Let’s talk about collars.”
Somehow he liked this weird stray who stumbled in his shop. As they talked about the details, he realized that beneath all the layers of scrubby and intermittent insecurity was hidden a sharp mind and that the man was quite capable of keeping up with his wit.
If Tony had to guess, he’d say that life hadn’t been kind to the doctor recently.
The rehab center Rhodey attended was for exceptionally serious accidents. His best friend had crashed a plane while on a military mission. And from what he had seen, the doctor’s hands were a mess and Strange was obviously insecure about them.
Tony took his notes while they talked. Strange had good taste and turned out to be willing to cooperate. It was as if the ice had been broken after Tony's agreement to a later payment.
Twenty minutes later, Strange left the shop in a better mood than when he entered. He was still looking like a hobo but with a small smile on his lips.
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rosesoflilac · 2 years
Text
Thirsting for the Demon Prince
Pairing- diavolo x reader, slight lucifer x reader
Warnings- lesson 8 spoils, ooc diavolo, ooc lucifer, not proofread
Summary- lord diavolo's demon form does something to you, Lucifer isn't here for it.
A/n: GENUINELY I HATE THIS BUT I ALSO LIKE IT UGHH IDEK - I just wanted to write a little funny thing about dia's demon form and this is what happened
It was Day 2 of the retreat Lord Diavolo planned for the demon brothers and all the exchange students. The retreat had been nothing if not eventful. Your mission to create a pact with Asmodeus was still underway and the solution was to get a picture of a sleeping Lucifer. One day that demon will kill you. For now though, you will enjoy your time here. It was Lord Diavolo’s wish after all! 
Celestial food tasted different than you imagined, everything that went into your mouth tasted pure. You could tell Luke put his entire heart into these dishes. “Luke! It tastes wonderful, thank you very much,” you say smiling at the little angel. 
Luke blushed and gave you back a big smile. “Thank you for the compliment, MC! You should come to Purgatory Hall so I can cook for you again!” 
This boy was going to be the death of you, he was too precious! “Of course!” You decided then you will fight anyone who seriously bullies him. 
Everyone else voiced their own praises, as they should, and Luke couldn’t help but feel delighted.. Even if he was surrounded by demons. The last thing you hear is Lucifer grumbling to Lord Diavolo about indulging Beel’s eating habits, “I know you’re trying to be nice, but if you keep giving him food like that, he’ll never stop eating/ He’d even eat your arm if you let him..” 
However, Beel was the least of your concerns as your thoughts wandered to getting a picture of Lucifer’s sleeping face.. Not only was it getting a picture of Lucifer’s face, you had no idea where to start. You knew he was staying with Lord Diavolo, but where? Would the room have a curse on it? You had already attempted to do this once. How would a second time be any different- 
“-MC!” Lucifer’s voice broke your train of thought. You looked up at him with an innocent look mixed with some shock, “Yes, Lucifer?” 
Lucifer gave you a dejected look and sighed, “Didn’t you hear me? I asked you to pass me the dipping sauce. You seem to be off in space today, don’t you? It’s still only day two, you know?” He had a challenging look in his eyes. Almost as if a human could not keep up with demonic and angelic counterparts. 
You would have to prove him wrong. You would have to find his room, unafraid of the consequences. 
The ceramic bowl felt warm in your hands. You worked your best smile and made direct eye contact with Lucifer, handing him the dipping sauce bowl. “Lucifer.. I’d like to see the art and decorations in each room.” 
Lucifer smiled at you, eyes closing and eyebrows less tense, hell, his whole demeanor had changed. Was he truly this pleased with your request? 
“Well, I didn’t realize that you appreciated decorative pieces here at the castle as much as I did. Wonderful.” His eyes kept yours in hold, making you squirm in your seat. You would definitely not survive a full year in the Devildom down this path you’ve chosen. “I am very interested, I love learning about stuff like that. History is a passion of mine,” Your voice stayed strong. Though he looked at you with such.. Heaviness, you could not help but feel relaxed when you saw him smile at you. 
“All right, I’ll make a list of everything worth seeing and where you can find it later. Then you can go have a look at them whenever you’d like.” Lucifer knew he had to have known this was another ploy.. There was no way he didn’t know. 
Still, you gave him another grateful smile. “I appreciate it, Lucifer.” Oh, this was going to be a long night. You took a long sip of your drink thinking of how to get Lucifer off of your trail. He was suspicious of you, always has been and will continue to be with the pacts you made with his three brothers.. Lucifer would expect you to act worried. Perhaps not all of the time but when you thought no one was watching.. Well, no matter how true, you’d have to prove him wrong. 
Lord Diavolo put his napkin on his plate, grinning at all of his guests, arms crossed around his chest, “...Well then, I suppose it’s about that time.” Beel frowned at the thought of not being able to eat more. Yeah, Beel would always be able to surprise you. 
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer sighed. “Ignore him, Diavolo. Please continue.” He could strangle his brothers sometimes. (If you were close to Lucifer, like Lord Diavolo close to Lucifer, you would see his left eyebrow raise every so slightly..) 
“All right then, here we go..” Diavolo’s grin grew wider. He snapped his fingers. 
You gasped at the sudden bright lights and at the now bustling ballroom with the hundreds of people now here- you turned your head towards Diavolo. 
You were silent, eyes staring shamelessly at him. You never imagined he would look so.. Princely. His demon horns curved around his head like a crown.. You desperately wanted to touch them. Would they be rough? How would they feel against your palm, fingers ghostling their outline? How would they feel if you gripped them roughly? Would Lord Diavolo gasp in shock or smirk at you? You bet his horns were so pointy, they could take out your eyes. The same could be said for his wings. Four beautiful, large wings.. What would it feel like to be wrapped up in them? Gold embellishments decorated the tips.. Don’t even get started on his golden bat wing chest piece.. You wanted to touch this too, wanted to feel it against your cheek, against your tongue.. You needed to feel how his fur, perhaps it was feather, shawl wrapped around your shoulders, needed to see your reflection in his ruby red jewel connected to his chest-piece. You needed it. 
 
While the sinful thoughts continued to plague your mind, Lucifer could not help notice why you did not move from your seat at the table. He was about to scold you when you saw who you were staring at. On top of taking advantage of his brothers and making pacts, you stared at Diavolo with such shameless behavior. Absolutely unacceptable. He headed towards you, ready to pull you out of the ballroom, when Barbatos appeared, tapping him on the shoulder. 
“Excuse me, Lucifer. Would you like a refreshment? The Young Master requested the very best of demonus for you.” Barbatos offered the tray towards him, smiling. 
Lucifer thought it was quite obvious what Barbatos was doing. He took a glass of demonus and shook his head. “Why are you preventing me from approaching MC?” 
Barbatos tilted his head, acting confused. “The Young Master and MC seem to be having fun. It would be rude to interrupt him when he is having a nice time.” If it was any other day, Barbatos would have agreed with Lucifer to interrupt the two of you. However, how fun of a party would it be if Diavolo looked bored and glum because you were stolen away from him?
Diavolo and you were talking, two delighted grins and merry voices agreeing with each other about the details of his demonic form. “I just.. You look so.. I can’t even put it into words!” Your hand grazed over his chest, over his chest piece you practically drooling over. Being so close, feeling the heat off of his chest, it was enough to satiate your curiosity. For now. 
Diavolo laughed loudly and put his hand on your head, rubbing your hair affectionately. “I feel the same way towards you! You are also so!” Another great laugh bubbled out of him. “I appreciate your compliments, MC.” He loved this, he loved getting your attention instead of it going towards the brothers. Speaking of which, we were all shocked in some way. Mammon was working up the courage to tell Diavolo that even though he is the prince of the devildom, you can’t touch his MC like that, that they’d much rather be with him. The others were in shock. Partly because Lucifer had not shown up to separate you two. 
 That is how things continued for the night. You stayed by Lord Diavolo’s side, conversing with him on many subjects. You mostly spoke of the human world and your favorite things, while Diavolo nodded, listening intently. He wanted to remember everything about you! It was only right as a host. (The frequent compliments from you did not hurt either). 
Lucifer was fed up. Not only had you been hanging off of Diavolo like some common succubus. The worst part, he was indulging you. It was nearing the end of the night, most of the guests had left by now. Surely, Diavolo would not refuse him a last dance with you. He approached you two slowly. “Lord Diavolo.. Since you’ve had MC’s attention all night, do you mind if I steal this last dance with her?” His voice was tense, teasing, like there was more he was saying. 
Diavolo looked towards you, you looked towards Lucifer and then at Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo doesn’t speak for me, Lucifer. If you wanted to dance, you could have just asked me,” you moved towards Lucifer and smiled. 
Lucifer smiled back and chuckled, albeit a tad forcefully. “Of course, MC.” He thought you were infuriating, acting like nothing was wrong. He held out his out for you to take, “Do you know how to dance?” So you did.
You would be lying if you did not find Lucifer’s demon form just as pleasing as Diavolo’s.. But you needed to be alert, Lucifer could be leading you into a trip. His grip was strong on your waist, his hand holding onto your hand. You would not be escaping him. Lucifer leaned down, lips coming close to your ear. 
“Do you know how to dance?” 
You could hear the smirk in his voice, “No.” Unlike Diavolo, you were scared of Lucifer. 
“No problem, I’ll lead.” The smile in his voice was sickeningly sweet. 
The dance began. You followed Lucifer’s lead, you understood this was part of his plan to throw you off. You had to stay strong. 
“In general, there are all sorts of reasons why one might ask someone else to dance. For example, they might be interested in them,” His hand squeezed yours “- they might want to touch them,” his hand on your waist rubbed your side “- or they might be doing it out of politeness..” Lucifer spun you around once. All you saw was the flash of his black wings, they were almost as big as Diavolo’s. “Or..” Lucifer continued, “..it could be they want to have a private conversation.” 
Lucifer pulled away from your ear and looked into your eyes, “What are you planning with Asmo?” His grip on you grew tighter. Uncomfortably tight. “Let me make one thing clear: I respect my brother’s freedom to do as they wish. However, if I ever sense that you’ve become a threat to either Diavolo or us…then I will show you absolutely no mercy. Understood?” 
Lucifer’s eyebrows were drawn close together, a heavy frown on his fight. You knew he was nothing but serious, he would kill you.. There were sure to be bruises on your body by tomorrow. 
You try to shake free of him, pulling away desperately, but you cannot. His grip is far too tight. “I.. I understand. Lucifer, just know that I only want to earn your respect..” 
-----
The end/maybe part 2??
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wehavekookies · 2 years
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How did you first get into art? And how did you learn? Im beginning to learn drawing now and am excited/scared for the process
Oh hell yeah, there is a lot to be excited for! The ability to create an image out of what You carry in Your head is a super cool thing, so I hope You enjoy it <3 I don't think there is really anything to be scared of tbh, except that it takes time to get places, but what doesn't.
For me it was a three part journey. Part one was a classic "I've been drawing since i remember and then i went to art school" which in my case ended in me really disliking drawing to the point i convinced my teachers i should focus on photography actually, so i was doing that for a couple of years instead. Which from the perspective of time was quite useful, because I'm using tons from what i learned in photography field now and I appreciate all that, but back then i was was like: drawing sucks lol.
Part two was me having a massive depression episode in my 20s that put me out of the game for several years, but I needed some outlet to communicate and express myself, and drawing seemed perfect for it since it involved only me and a piece of paper, so I got back to it and was drawing maniacally for like two years until i got to the point I thought that maybe i can use it for something and went to take exams to Art Academy. And got rejected. I got pissed at drawing again, and instead went to filmschool, focusing on stop motion animation because fuck drawing but i still want to express myself somehow and i'm done with photography so lets try some different medium. I benefited TONS from this decision, and I was still drawing some because storyboarding and designing, but it wasn't my main focus and i stopped thinking about it as of "my main thing".
Part three is me getting into fandom and roleplaying spaces in the internet. It's 2011 and I'm almost 30 in this story already, so I did took my time lol, but I just discovered that people are doing KICKASS illustrations for media they enjoy and characters they imagined and that this is like, A Whole Thing. I started doing this and it turned out to be a really good place for sharing stuff, meeting people, talking about things i enjoyed etc etc, so i kept doing it making it my new little hobby this time, not a project i need to succeed in in any way and that seemed to work. And then it's June 2016 (I remember over which artwork it happened, hence the precise date) and I feel that i may be actually loving this, but omg it pisses me off i need so much time for each artwork and it still doesn't look like i want it to look, so you know what, let's actually try to make some conscious decisions about developing this skill, but on my own this time. I started to learn by watching other artists and trying out their methods and things they recommend, picking what i liked and dropping what didn’t work for me. And this is the part of the journey I'm still in now, but it's quite pleasant.
Sorry for the wall of text reply, but as You can see I was circling art and drawing for quite a bit to finally bite on it proper so it’s a layered answer haha. And also I read Your ask while i was chilling over my morning coffee so i fell into A Mood and it got long XD
Cheers and have a good day! <3
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Text
So, as people know, I watched a lot of panel shows during lockdown. Too many panel shows during lockdown. My friends were all sending messages about mentally suffering from the lack of human contact, and I was saying I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve seen every single episode of 8 Out of 10 Cats in the last month and I’m fine. Do you want to hear about it? No? Fine, I’ll create a Tumblr blog and tell them about it instead and the only cost will be that by a couple of years later I’ll have totally emotionally disconnected from the real life I used to have. Like I said, my mental health responded really well to lockdowns.
Anyway, that had some less dark effects on my mind as well, one of which is that at some point, British accents started to be the ones I expected to hear. Because I was listening to them all day, and never interacting with anyone in person, I didn’t hear the Canadian accent of myself or the people I know for ages, I just heard these British ones. It maybe didn’t help that I got so focused on the accents specifically, as I tried to overcome my tone-deafness and learn to tell the difference among the 300,000 known British accents that are out there so I could get the jokes based on them, and I mostly failed in my quest but I can at least reliably tell Scottish apart from Welsh apart from Yorkshire apart from Croydon these days. Also I know what Croydon is. (I already knew what Yorkshire was, due to the Monty Python sketch.)
Anyway, I spent so much time buried in that media that when I did start occasionally interacting with humans again (not even when most restrictions were lifted, but when I went to stay with my parents for a while because they were worried about the agoraphobia I was developing/the lockdowns were clearly validating the agoraphobia I had always been prone to but hadn’t been able to enforce due to my lifestyle), I realized their accents sounded slightly strange to me. Not really weird or anything, I’d just hear them and get a tiny sense of “Oh, that’s different from how most people talk.” Even though it is how I talk and how everyone I know talks.
(Please note: I did not actually say this to anyone I knew, including my parents. Because I am aware of the stereotype of a person who goes to Europe for a few weeks and comes back pretending that they’re European now. And the only thing I can think of that would be worse than that is someone who manages to have picked that up by not even going over there, just spending many months locked in a room watching their TV shows. I did not walk around telling people they sound funny because I’m used to British accents now. I am also pleased to say I can confirm that no amount of concentrated panel show watching is enough for me to pick up a British accent myself, though I have normalized a few of their phrases in my head from all the Britcom, I have to stop myself from saying “football” instead of “soccer” on the rare occasions when that word comes up in my real life because I do not want to sound like I think I’m British now. I just genuinely hear that sport referenced constantly in my British media and almost never in my Canadian life, so the word for it in my head has changed. There are two or three other things like that, where my own vocabulary’s drifted toward British-isms as a result of the last few years, but mostly, any British-isms in my vocabulary are there because I read a lot of Phillip Pullman and Harry Potter and CS Lewis and Douglas Adams as a kid, and I picked up words from there, not thinking I was trying to “talk British”, I was just young enough to still frequently learn new words and expressions and I thought the stuff I came across in those books were just regular things I didn’t already know so I incorporated them into my speech and by the time I realized they’re not used here I’d already solidified the habit. Point being that I’ve been saying “brilliant” since long before 2020, and I can get away with little things like that because “brilliant” is a word that means the same thing in Canada and just isn’t used as often – it’s not like I use a word like “trousers” or something that we don’t have here at all. As for the actual accents, the only British accent I can sort of do a tiny bit is Glaswegian, but I can only do it while saying words that Jamie MacDonald said in The Thick of It, because I’ve spent so much time quoting him over the years that I think I can imitate him a bit. If you heard my Glaswegian accent you’d think it was bad, and you’d be right, but it would still be true that I can do it better than any other accents I’ve ever tried. It’s the tone deafness again. People have asked me before why I’ve never tried making music when deep love of music has always been such a big part of my life, and I tell them I don’t even have the auditory processing capability to tell an English from an Australian accent, I sure as hell can’t sing or play an instrument. I realize I’m getting quite far off the point by now. Back to the post.)
Since then, I’m pleased to say I’ve stopped having that feeling in real life, and have gone back to expecting the people around me to talk with Canadian accents, with no little twinge of “oh, that’s a bit different” when I hear it. However, I do still get that with media. I watch British TV and think they’re all talking normally, for how people on TV are meant to talk. I almost never watch American or Canadian TV anymore, so when I do occasionally put on an episode of 30 Rock or something, my brain will have a brief little jolt of “Oh, that’s a notably different accent” when the characters start talking in the exact same exact that I and everyone I know have (non-region-specific American accents = the same as non-region-specific Canadian accents, I’m almost sure, though I’ve had some people tell me there’s a slight difference and maybe I just don’t hear it due to the tone-deafness).
There is one exception to this, as I realized yesterday. I was watching a British TV show that featured children, and that sounded odd to me. It gave me that brief moment of thinking “Oh, that’s interesting, that’s a bit of a different way of speaking than I’m used to.” And I realized that while I’ve gotten very used to hearing adults be British on TV – so used to it that it sounds a bit weird when anyone on TV isn’t British now – I have rarely heard a British accent in a child’s voice. That still sounds like a surprising foreign accent to me.
Anyway, this was an overly long post in which I was just trying to give enough context to say: it turns out that I don’t expect children to be British, and my brain is slightly shocked by the idea. I am travelling to London and Edinburgh this summer, and as much as I think I have obsessively learned about British culture to the point where it's normalized in my head, I'm kind of looking forward to finding out what other things exist in British real life but not in British comedic media so I'll be surprised to see them when I get there. Things like children being British.
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missgryffin · 8 months
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Hi missgryffin! Firstly I’m such a huge fan and avid reader of your works, especially ES which is an absolutely beautiful story! I know you’re taking some time rewriting etc to update to your current style and I obsess over every snippet haha. My question is, after publishing work how do you feel like a story is finished to your liking? I know I struggle with feeling like things I produce are ever properly finished and I can only assume rewrites on ES is such a massive undertaking, what prompted you to revisit the older chapters? Secondary to that, would you ever consider putting the old version up along with the new one? Obviously it’s your artistic choice and you’re rewriting for a reason but I personally would be so interested to read and compare the two, especially because I adore your snippets and it’s crazy to think you could upgrade a story I already love so much haha. I hope that’s not overstepping! I wouldn’t want to offend! Anyway, I love you’re writing and I hope you have a great day!
Hey! Ahh thank you so much!! 🥰 Under the cut for length 🫶
Oh this is such a good question and honestly there's no easy answer. In the short term, whether a chapter/story feels finished really is just a feeling. I've become more of a plotter over the years, so I am better about knowing what needs to happen to close the arcs of the story and have it feel resolved. (Or, if it's just a chapter, have it feel like it's propelling the story forwards.) Also, when I'm first starting a fic, I have a pretty good idea of the mood and imagery I'm wanting to evoke with that story. (And I love making moodboards for myself for this purpose.) So something I look for when I'm rereading what I've written is whether what I see when I read matches what I'd imagined in my head.
In the long term, I think a sense of completion comes from time. The wonderful thing about fic is that you can always update works if you catch a mistake or spot something you want to fix. (I usually find at least one small thing I could change every time I reread something of mine, lol.) But whether it's "finished to your liking" is really a measure of, when you reread it a year or two later, are you still happy with it? And where you're at in your writing journey (/how much your writing may have improved or changed over time) will bear on that.
For example, when I reread for the hope of it all earlier this summer, I found some typo mistakes and edited some phrasing here and there, but it really did feel like I was just doing a proofread with fresh eyes. The story itself felt complete; I didn't want to change a thing, and I was so proud reading it.
By contrast, when I reread Eternal Summer earlier this year, the document became unrecognizable from how much I marked it up. Once, that draft felt complete to me, but this time (two years later), I felt like I was reading an early draft I'd outgrown. For one, ES was written in past tense, and I've now been writing almost exclusively in present tense. For another, I felt like I'd crammed too much into my chapters, resulting in scenes feeling rushed or overlooked simply from the sheer volume of stuff happening. I wanted to tease certain things out more and pace things differently so that everything got its ~moment~. In the first go-around, I had veered significantly off my original outline as a reaction to reader feedback/pressure at the time, which resulted in me getting myself very, very stuck. This time, the experience of writing these characters for 2+ straight years allowed me to think about the plot and the character development more holistically. I have a better understanding of how to "show not tell" in terms of relevant backstory and Jily's respective head spaces. I took prior times where readers were confused into account, and I knew how I could address/resolve them in the new narrative. I still very much loved the ES world and the plot I'd created—and there were so many scenes I felt so proud of (and many I'd forgotten that I loved!) —but the overall feeling was, I can elevate this story. I can tell this better. Knowing I wanted to continue ES into the rest of their seventh year and beyond, I simply couldn't continue writing without addressing all these thoughts I had about it. (And believe me, I tried 😅)
As for whether I'd put up the old version with the new one…I haven't thought about it much, but my initial reaction is leaning no. Idk, I'm open to hearing thoughts on it, and it's a ways away anyway. I just don't want people getting confused by what's "true" and what's not anymore if they're looking at the old version.
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countessofravenclaw · 11 months
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Do You Want To Be A Mean Girl?
Happy DCLA gift exchange day!!! This years was little more of an challenge for me, but I think I did manage to create something quite fun. I hope you like this @supernova-ferro I'm also sorry that there's no BIA in this, but that is completely outside my wheelhouse. So you get to enjoy what happens if Luty and Simbar meet... while they try to gaze the stars
Simon was scrolling through his computer. Officially, he was writing a new song right now, while Ambar was at school, but in reality, he was on a secret mission. Mission to really surprise Ambar for their anniversary. 
Ambar was extremely hard to surprise, as they spent so much time together… But Simon was determined. He wanted to find something really unique…
The problem was that, even when he had now lived in Buenos Aires almost five years, he still was not that of the city. He didn’t even know how the public transportation worked—one of the reasons why Ambar had bought them a car right after Luna had split the fortune with her and was in the process of getting a license at the moment. 
So basically, Simon did not know many cool places in Buenos Aires that you could take your girlfriend to. There always was the theater, but they had already been to ballets and other cultural events, often with Pedro and Delfi. This had to be something unique. 
Simon gave up trying to come up with something on the spot and opened Google. He typed “things to do for an anniversary” to the search bar. There should be no shame in googling that, but he did feel just a little bit like a failure. If only the timing would have been better. 
Ambar had big exams right at the same time of their anniversary, so they couldn’t go on some big trip or anything. 
They could have gone to England or something. Ambar had been saying that she wanted to go and visit Gastón and Nina there at some point and have them show them around at Oxford and Simon agreed that it sounded like a good idea, but that would have to wait. For their anniversary, a night out would need to be enough. 
The search results didn’t seem to be that much help. Midnight stroll… flowers… all the basic stuff.
Simon edited the search, adding “ideas for Buenos Aires” to the search bar. Simon started scrolling down the search results. Maybe he should just give up and call Luna for help with ideas…
Simon’s eyes focused on a link, that he could have sworn had not been there before: Lover’s Nest ~ stargazing adventures. Simon stared at the link for a moment. Stargazing… that sounded interesting. Simon clicked the link. 
Lover’s Nest ~ stargazing adventures: Looking for a way to impress that special someone? Way to throw your proposal out of the park so you definitely get the answer you want? Or do you just really wanna feel single by yourself? Lover’s nest’s stargazing adventure events are for you! Come with us, and reserve your spot on our next picnic so you can observe the celestial elements. NOW!
Simon read the description again. He had never heard of a company called Lover’s Nest before. The description sounded too good. He wasn’t sure where this had been hiding all this time, but it was perfect. 
This was going to be it. Simon clicked the three dots on the corner of the website. Now he needed to reserve a spot for them. 
Where did they even held these picnics… and when. He saw a calendar symbol at the right lower corner and clicked it. It took him on a page which was a big calendar. Some of the days were colored purple and different times and addresses were listed on them.
So, this was like buying movie tickets? Simon looked at the weekend when their anniversary would land on. Good, the Saturday had an event… at Micaela Bastidas Park. That place was perfect. 
Simon clicked on the date… oh noh, apparently there was only two places left. Good thing he had found this when he had. Simon filled out the form to reserve two spots. After he was done, he clicked on the reserve button.
Simon was really happy that he had gotten the ball rolling on this… and with no help. He was totally capable of arranging romantic gestures all by himself…
He looked back at the screen and to his horror saw that the site had started downloading. Simon tried to click on the keyboard, but nothing worked. Almost like the computer had frozen. He had no idea if the reservation had gone through.
Simon tried to think what to do, when a text “Thank you for your reservation.” came on the screen.
Simon breathed a sigh of relief… it had worked out.
…At the same time
“Natalia, what are we doing during the weekend?” Ludmila looked up from the couch as Naty sat down holding two glasses of juice, handing other one to her. 
“We’re going to that stargazing event,” Naty looked a Ludmila. “You threatened to bury me six feet under if I didn’t come with you, since you felt too awkward to go by yourself.”
“Well, you are my girlfriend, so where I want to go, you come with me,” Ludmila shrugged and picked up her phone. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” Naty stared at her, “You were the one who booked it.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Ludmila stared at her back, “You were.” 
“No, you.”
“No, you.”
“YOU!”
“YOU!”
“It was supposed to be your job!”
“Well, I didn’t do it.”
“Then who did?” Naty looked at Ludmila with serious eyes.
“No one,” Ludmila remarked before her eyes widening in horror. “You mean, we don’t have a reservation for Saturday?!? Natalia! Do you know how fast the Lover’s Nest’s events fill up?”
“No.” Naty shook her head, “You mentioned this whole thing for the first time, when we talked about this last time, and you said you’d book it.”
Ludmila dove for her tablet, “We need to make the reservations now!” She scrambled on the tablet to get on the Lover’s Nest’s website and opened the calendar. 
“Pheeeewww, there are still two spots left on Saturday,” Ludmila looked up. “Natalia, you should have been more attentive. We almost didn’t make it.”
“I am not commenting on that.” Naty just shook her head. “You’re lucky that I love you.”
“Oh wait,” Ludmila looked down at the tablet, “Why is this lagging?”
Ludmila tried to tap on the tablet, but the website window looked like it was downloading nothing, and it was taking forever. “This house has terrible WiFi.”
“Let me see.” Naty took the tablet and pressed the home button… which miraculously made the loading symbol to disappear and the confirmation of their reservations flashed on the screen. 
“Oh, Natalia!” Ludmila hugged her, “You’re the best!”
***
“Simon, where are we going?” Ambar asked for, probably, for the tenth time from the front seat while Simon was driving. He had blindfolded her, once they had left the apartment.
“I am not going to tell you,” Simon smirked and rounded the corner. “But trust me… You are going to love it.”
“I hate this blindfold,” Ambar continued complaining.
“Just relax.”
“How am I supposed to relax while I can’t see and you are driving.” Ambar shook her head, “You could be running a red light as we speak. Need I remind you that I am going to be a lawyer? I would like to achieve that without you getting arrested.”
“Don’t you worry about that.” Simon laughed, “Since we are here. You can take the blind fold off.”
“Where are we?” Ambar questioned as they got out of the car. She looked around at the dark park.
“Micaela Bastidas,” Simon explained while taking her hand. “I found a company that arranges stargazing events here.” Simon pointed toward a gated area in the middle of the park. You could see the twinkling lights and hear the mood music. 
“Star gazing?” Ambar looked at Simon. 
“Great idea right…?” Simon said, before getting flustered by Ambar’s questioning face. “Or… unless you hate it… then this would have not been a good idea… But, I…”
“No, no, no,” Ambar put her hand on his cheeks, “This sounds beautiful. I just didn’t think you’d come up with something like that.”
“Well, then. Lets go.” Simon took Ambar’s hand again and they walked to the gated area. Inside there were multiple picnic blankets with lots of pillows and even couple of telescopes. 
“Ours should be the blanket number 15.” Simon said to Ambar while scanning the area. It looked like the place seemed to be sold out for tonight. “Or just the one thats unoccupied.”
“That’s empty right there.” Ambar pointed towards an empty blanket on their left. 
Simon and Ambar walked to the blanket, and sure enough, the number 15 was written in the corner of it, in golden letters.
“You’re right,” Ambar leaned onto Simon after they had sat down, “this is very romantic.”
“Always best for you.” Simon said and started leaning down to kiss her—
“Natalia! I told you that we can’t be late!” Simon and Ambar got interrupted by two voices yellingin the distance. 
“Well, it was not me who took forever in shower, was it?” 
“Well… that is not important now,” the voices continued, “We need to find out place.”
“It is very crowded here tonight.”
“You’d think people would come here to relax,” Ambar shook her head, “not to fight.”
“Well, each their own,” Simon shrugged, “We don’t need to pay attention to them.”
They turned their head back to the sky… until two shadows obscured their view. 
“Excuse me,” they looked up and saw two women, one blonde and the other having black curls, standing in front of them. “I think you are on our spot.”
“I am sorry, but that can’t be possible,” Ambar looked at the women and them back to Simon. “We reserved this spot.”
“No, we reserved this spot,” the blonde woman who had quite bossy voice crossed her arms. “Our spot was 15.”
“This is 15, but this is our spot.” Simon joined in the conversation once Ambar had stood up from the ground. “We reserved it.”
“You sure?” the curly-haired one questioned, “because I know that we reserved this. Maybe both of you thought the other one had done it and you never actually did it.”
“No, he did the booking,” Ambar had also crossed her arms, “We even have the receipt.”
“Honestly, I don’t care,” the blonde woman was not relenting, “We need this spot, so you need to move.”
“I am sorry, but we’re not moving.”
“I warn you.” The blonde woman continued, “You don’t want to mess with me. I used to be quite of a mean girl and can be again.”
“Please,” Ambar scoffed, “You probably have not even seen a mean girl. I used to reign terror both in my upper-secondary school and in my skating rink.”
“No one can match me as the mean girl.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Well, I bet you never cut off a head from a stuffed toy you got as a gift from the boy who liked you.”
“How is that even mean? I made sure that the girl I hated failed her skating exam by making her fall.”
Once Ambar started arguing with the blonde woman, Simon knew better than to get involved. Instead, he crept next to the curly-haired one who was just watching the chaos unfold. 
“Hi,” he said to her. “This your girlfriend?”
“Unfortunately,” the woman nodded, “Should have known that would happen. The site was weird when we did the booking.” Then she turned towards Simon. “I am Naty. That's right there is Ludmila.”
“Nice to meet you.” Simon shook her hand. “I am Simon. Ambar is my girlfriend. I love your accent by the way.”
“Thanks. I am from Spain.” Naty laughed, “Yours sound funny too.”
“I am guilty of being a Mexican,” Simon nodded.
“Does your girlfriend get often in fights with other ex-mean girls?” Naty asked Simon, “Because, surprisingly this is the first for Ludmila.”
“Not usually.”
“Gotta say,” Naty chuckled, “this is kind of entertaining.”
“Yeah,” Simon looked back at Ludmila and Ambar, “They should make a game show out of this.”
~
Simon and Naty were standing on a flashy spinning stage, their backs against each other in glittering outfits. Ambar and Ludmila were standing on their own podiums at opposite ends of the stage, facing each other. 
“Welcome to our show!” Naty yelled enthusiastically. “This is the “Do You Want To Be a Mean Girl?”. The show where we determined the meanest girls in Buenos Aires.”
“Our competitors today are:” Simon continued from Naty with an enthusiastic host voice, “On the right: Ludmila Ferro! And on the left: Ambar Smith! Let the meanest meanie win.”
“Okay, ladies,” Naty suddenly pulled out a huge hot pink and black wheel out of nowhere. “You know the rules. There will be seven questions, the wheel will decide, and they will determine which one of you is the ultimate mean girl in Buenos Aires. The title comes with the picnic spot and bragging rights.”
Ludmila and Ambar were eyeing each other murderously.
“Lets start,” Simon put his hand on the wheel and spun it around.
“Okay, question number one,” Naty read off the wheel, “Who was your mortal enemy and what is your relationship now? The first answering turn goes to Ambar.”
“My mortal enemy’s name was Luna Valente,” Ambar smirked, “She was an annoying little girl who came to take over everything that was mine. She ended up being my adoptive mother’s though to be deceased niece, so we are cousins now.”
“The first opponent with a strong start,” Simon exclaimed, “Ludmila, your response?”
“My mortal enemy was called Violetta Castillo,” Ludmila started explaining, “She liked the same guy as I did and would always steal my spotlight. Her dad and my mom were kind of married, so she is my sister now.”
“Tough call,” Simon whispered to Naty.
“You wouldn’t think that you always become family with your enemies, but maybe it is more common than you think,” Naty shrugged. “We have a winner for the first round!”
Suddenly a floating scoreboard appeared above everyone's head. The score under a huge pink and black “L” read 1 while the score under the “A” read 0.
“The first round has gone to Ludmila,” Simon yelled, “In a technicality, sisters are closer than cousins. Time for round two!”
It was Ludmila’s turn to smirk while Ambar frowned. Simon spun the wheel again. 
“Question two!” Naty announced, “What happened when you met your enemy for the first time? What did you do? Ambar starts again.”
“She spilled chocolate milkshake on me, so I threw her into the pool,” Ambar explained terrifyingly calmly.
“Ludmila, your response,” Simon turned to Ludmila who looked too astonished to speak.
“Uhm, I think I yelled at her because she was getting paid for piano lessons…”
“Clear K.O.” Simon said to Naty, and the scoreboard showed that Ambar had gained the point. “Ambar wins!”
“The question three!” Naty announced and went to spin the wheel herself this time. “Hypothetical scenario, that surely happened. Your enemy covers your song. What do you do? Ludmila starts this time.”
“Well, I was late for our concert so when I arrived, what I saw shocked me.” Ludmila did a dramatic fainting motion for a second, “Violetta was singing my song and doing my choreography in the air with the harness. So, I accidentally tipped down a ladder that made the rigging system fail and she almost fell to her death.”
“Compelling story,” Simon took over, “Ambar, your response.”
“I had detention, so I was late for an Open, and my idiot ex-boyfriend had gotten Luna to sing with him instead of waiting for me,” Ambar started talking, “So I obviously broke up with him.”
“This is interesting,” Naty said to Simon, “Break up, near-death experience… how do you weigh them?”
“You don’t,” Simon frowned, “Point goes to Ludmila!”
“Question four!” Naty read off the wheel. “What would you do to get your enemy out of your house?”
“I pretended to be my mom and her dad on the phone and made them break up.”
“Stole a priceless piece of art and framed her dad.”
“Point to Ambar!”
“Next question: Worst thing you did to your minions?”
“Made them accomplishes in my schemes.”
“Broke her arm and a leg.”
“And you’re still with her?” Simon asked Naty after Ludmila’s response.
“Well, what can you do. She is adorable.” Naty shrugged. “Ludmila takes this round! This is way too even,” she said to Simon.
“Will probably end in a tie.” Simon pondered.
“Anyways…” Naty turned back to the wheel, “This next question is my favorite. You were the Mean Girl, but we know that it wasn’t you. Who made you do it? Ludmila starts.”
“My mother never got the success she wanted, so she thought she could live through me. But was I never good enough for her.” Ludmila explained.
“Opponents response.” Simon gave Ambar her turn.
“My mother didn’t want to be known as my mother in the public. She also made me believe that I was her long-lost niece to serve her own goals. She also almost burned the house down.”
“These bring tears to my eyes,” Naty said before turning towards Simon. “The winner is pretty clear. Ambar gets the point, and we once again have a tie! Well, good for us, we have a final tiebreaker question. Simon, if you would do the honors?”
“Of course.” Simon said and spun the wheel one last time. “What is the worse thing you have ever done?”
~
“You think you’re so terrible,” Ludmila snapped towards Ambar. Their fight was still in full swing. Simon and Naty were observing every twist and turn while looking pensive. “I blackmailed my childhood friend to emotionally manipulate Violetta to fall in love with him, so he could break her heart at the best time.”
“That’s not even that bad,” Ambar scoffed, “I was so jealous of Luna that I burned down our roller-skating rink. It was a pity that it was at night, so empty, and no one got hurt.”
Ludmila, Naty, and Simon just stared at Ambar while she looked like she was just now snapping back into reality. 
“You know what,” Naty swooped next to Ludmila and took her arm, “Ludmi, I think I see another empty spot over at the other side. Let's go, I am not accepting any protests. It was nice to meet you, Simon.”
“What just happened?” Ambar ran a hand through her hair and was looking extremely confused, “What did I say?”
“Well, you kind of said hat it was a pity that no one got hurt when you burned Roller down,” Simon said with the straightest face he was able to muster. 
“Oh my god,” Ambar sank down to the ground, while the realization hit her, “That’s not what I meant to say, I didn’t mean that. I am a horrible person. She just really pushed my buttons.”
“Well, you got them to leave.” Simon ran his hand on her arms.
15 years later…
“And that's how Mommy chased out a crazy lady on our second anniversary.” Simon finished the story while his daughter, Ivory Alvarez, looked at him at awe. 
“What did you tell her?”
Ambar showed up from the kitchen and sat on the couch with them. 
“Mommy!” Ivory jumped on the sofa. It sometimes felt like she had her godmother’s energy. “Did that really happen?”
“We did go stargazing on our second anniversary,” Ambar nodded, “Glad to see that Daddy remembers.”
“No!” Ivory frowned,
“Did you burn Roller down?”
“Of course not,” Simon cut in before Ambar was able to open her mouth. “Ivory, Mommy would never break the law.” Simon winked at Ambar. 
“And Aunt Luna would have killed me.” Ambar shook her head and discreetly slapped Simon on his arm.
“What happened to graze lady?” Ivory questioned. 
“Were not sure,” Ambar looked at Simon. “But we hope that she and her girlfriend are very happy. Just like us.”
{}
Like I said, this definitely was outside of my comfort zone, but in the end I think this ended up being quite hilarious... at least in my head. Hopefully, other people think so too. PS. If this actually happened or did Simon just make it up is completely in viewer's discretion.
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zuckarr · 11 months
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1 year as a vegan 🌱 an honest overview
I'm a 30 year old woman, and I decided to go vegan in April 2022. I was never a vegetarian. I switched from an omnivorous diet to a plant-based diet overnight, and I have strictly adhered to the latter, with the only few exceptions being accidents.
I would like to write down how my journey as a vegan has been so far, what pros and cons I encountered and how my overall health was impacted. I intend to talk with my heart on my sleeve about everything and I am totally open to questions or clarifications. This post is nothing more than my own subjective, unique experience as a relatively new vegan person. However I won't be talking about the morality of veganism, nor the reasons why I decided to go vegan. I want to give voice to the bodily and mental changes I am going through instead, plus a few personal final thoughts.
I'd like to begin by stating that:
I have been taking several blood tests during the last year in order to keep track of the changes.
I have been taking vitamin B12 supplements as strongly recommended by every single doctor and veganism related website/source.
I have no prior sickness of any kind.
HEADACHES.
Headaches used to permeate my days before going vegan - so much that I had stopped noticing them (when bearable). During my first week as a vegan, the sudden disappearance of my headaches felt like a miracle. I would've never anticipated how life-changing that was. I was so used to my head pounding that the absence of the pain couldn't have gone unnoticed. I figured out I am intolerant to dairy, as countless others are, and yet I used to munch on cheese as my go-to comfort food... as countless others do.
BLOATING.
Bloating was probably also caused by my daily ingestion of dairy products, and was one of my body's cries for help. I did not feel bloated anymore once I started eating plant-based. The skin on my belly was softer at the touch and not as tense as before. People around me began asking if I had lost weight. I hadn't. It was just me deflating, lol.
SLEEP.
This is one of the most unexpected changes: I noticed I've been sleeping less, but better. I started waking up an hour or two earlier than usual, feeling well rested. Thanks to that, my days got longer, my mind got clearer, and my mood improved almost instantly.
ENERGY.
During the first weeks, I felt very energised. Must've been all of the vitamins suddenly filling my body! Who needs to get high when you can get the iron rush from a bunch of spinach, like good old Popeye taught us? Nevertheless, the energy sort of dissipated over time and I've been feeling pretty normal ever since.
POOP.
Oh no, it's poop talk! Fend yourselves, because I am not scared of being descriptive here. Long story short, I used to have frequent diarrhea before going vegan. Once again, my dairy intolerance most likely contributed to creating funny looking brown stuff. If I asked you how's your poop looking, what would you answer (assuming you wouldn't slap me)? And would you know what a healthy poop is supposed to look like? Welp, let's just say I've been proud of my toilet appointments since going vegan, because all I see are Pacha meme worthy sausages. Going to the loo is a happy time now, in comparison to the long minutes of agony spent with stomachache and funky smells.
FLATULENCE.
Can't have booty talk without mentioning the #1 cause of laughter among kids since the beginning of time! Farting is funny, but it is first and foremost the sign of a healthy gut. It takes a quick Google search to find out what farts truly are and why our bodies need to produce them. I confirm one of the most innocent prejudices against vegans - yes, we fart more than usual! But if you read into it, you'll only wish to do the same. Still, it is a largely acceptable change, and has not caused me any discomfort or unfortunate situations whatsoever.
CHOLESTEROL, IRON, PROTEIN, ETC.
Before going vegan, I had high cholesterol, high fibrinogen, low hemoglobin, low albumin, and a few other things that weren't importantly unbalanced. As aforementioned, I've taken several blood tests during the last year which showed ALL of the highs & lows quickly going back to normal. When I saw my cholesterol lower for the first time, I cried. I haven't had normal cholesterol for years, so, seeing that was nothing less than a miracle for me. As for my iron and protein, they increased! My fibrinogen was REALLY high, which could've resulted in a heart attack due to a vascular occlusion, but I don't risk that anymore. I cannot express how ecstatic I am to be considered medically healthy now. I wish somebody had told me earlier about the health benefits of a plant-based diet.
COOKING AND GROCERY SHOPPING.
I was never a big fan of cooking, because I was mostly just hungry all the time and I couldn't be bothered to prep meals or to even chop up vegetables. As a vegan though, I was kind of forced to look at recipes in the beginning - I was pretty lost and didn't know what to cook! Well, vegan cooking turned out to be much easier than I thought. I remember my first vegan grocery shopping experience: a whole new world opened up in the mall. I had never looked at the veggies and fruits and legumes and seeds and cereals section properly before! It was ENORMOUS! Boxes and bags and baskets of wonderfully colored food, most of it really cheap (especially legumes); with half of the money that I used to spend on cheese and meat, I had double the amount of food in my shopping cart and I was so ready to start cooking. The more I cooked, the quicker my cooking skills drastically improved and I have so much fucking fun in the kitchen now! I made countless vegan meals and cakes, loved by everybody (non-vegans asked for recipes more than once!), even by my mother! She used to slaughter chickens and had never baked a cake without eggs before, and yet, she admitted that this way of eating is fantastic and convenient. After a few months, she praised my hair and skin because it looks brighter and healthier. As a matter of fact, I feel nourished and full most of the time. Most importantly, I began to feel grateful and to think of food as a way of loving myself and nurturing my body, rather than a mere matter of taste.
SOCIETY.
The problem with being a vegan in a human society is... other people. It is always, undoubtedly other people who will come @ me with their weird, uncalled for, and rude anti-vegan claims as soon as somebody ELSE reveals that I am a vegan. I swear to god. I have no idea where we picked up the scenario of the 'annoying vegan' because the truth is actually the opposite... it is others who annoy ME... whenever they asked questions, I was happy to answer and explain stuff, because I genuinely thought that they were interested and would have liked learning something new, just like I would've felt if they had talked to me about something that they are passionate about. But nope, the real reason why most people asked me questions was to 'debunk' what I would say and feel like they won the argument. Even though it wasn't an argument at all. It wasn't long before I started noticing the patterns, the same old questions asked, the same rebuttals, over and over, in an endless cycle of going nowhere. So I simply learned how to differentiate the 'gotchas' from the rare, decent people who truly want to know more about veganism. As for going out and eating out, it wasn't as hard nor as expensive as I anticipated. We now live in a very vegan friendly time, there are vegan alternatives to basically everything. I feel extremely lucky to be a vegan now, because I can't even begin to imagine how hard it would've been years before.
PEACE OF MIND.
There is a duck pond nearby and I often take walks through it. Sometimes I sit on a bench, look at the beautiful birds and their dreamy plumage, and I... appreciate them. Not for their meat, like I used to. I can't even fathom seeing those creatures as food now. I appreciate them as individuals, who dream, love, dance, think, sleep, bond with their kin... I feel at peace with animals and nature on a whole other level. I realized how wrong it felt to eat a steak and then pet my dog. I learned so much about animal agriculture, nutrition, human rights, environmentalism… and I have so much more to learn yet. It takes one heartfelt glance into an animal's eyes, to be reminded that we are all the same. I am honored to get to choose not to be cruel to them.
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lorirwritesfanfic · 1 year
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Do you have any fics in the works? Tell us about them!Looking forward to any other writer's upcoming fics? Tell us about them too!
My wip folder is never empty, darling. I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing to say it, given the number of unfinished works I have there, but oh well...
I haven't had much time to write. You know... real life, bills, family, more bills... 😵 and of course I procrastinate a lot (I blame Netflix Brasil for getting Downton Abbey and all the Turkish diziler I find online 🤦🏻‍♀️). But I write sometimes. Not every day. Not most days of the week as I used to do before. But I'm still writing.
The one wip I'm actually half way through is a Hamid x MC xmas fic. I know you're thinking "but it's almost February! And Prince Hamid is Muslim!" and you're right. But Daphne is Christian, very fond of Christmas, Hamid loves a nice social gathering and finding any reason to tease his favorite girl and we do not follow the real life calendars in here, so why not?
Among the series I write, earlier this month I was working on Meant To Be (Desire & Decorum modern day AU) chapter... 27? (I lost count... 🙈) Anyway, I think the next two chapters will finally explain why I label it as a Soulmates AU. There's a Sinclaire and Daphne awkward scene here, a little Sinclaire x Alisha moment there... But nothing too dramatic for now.
There's also Jade and Liam's For The World to Know. Tbh I have no idea what chapter I am (I'm getting super lazy on this because Tumblr and AO3 count the chapters automatically for me 😅). They're just a couple of weeks away from the wedding, they're getting joint a bachelor and bachelorette party, there's some heart to heart talk with Hana (these girls need it), Leo is joining them in Vegas (and we all know he often brings drama) and there's Drake situation to be solved. I'm close to reaching the end of FTWTK and I wish I could really start Happily Ever After (instead of just posting a few one shots of them married) because I've been daydreaming about the plot for years (the story will be soooooo good, ugh!), but I don't know... If I managed to finish FTWTK (or just The Fives Stages since there's only two more chapters left), I'll take it as a win.
Last year, I also remembered I never finished my Bloodbound series. A while ago, I got a comment on AO3 from someone who wanted me to extend the series and I thought about doing it, but at this point I wouldn't know how to do it. I'd probably have to create a new plot since the one I started back then is nearly solved. But that would demand time to replay Bloodbound to find inspiration and, unluckily, that's something I don't have lately. I started planning a chapter with Adrian x OC (any Adrian stans still out there?), then I'll write one more chapter to wrap it up.
There are other Desire & Decorum AUs and a TRR AU, but I haven't touched those wips in months... I rather not make any promises regarding any of those stories for now.
Other than that, there are a few one shots planned:
A Thomas Mendez x Ayla (+ Stephanie and Luz) inspired by one of my favorite Brazilian memes and a scene of a 2010 romcom. I can't explain why I'm doing this... The muse wants what the muse wants 😂
A few ficlets (or short stories, depending on how inspired I am when I actually sit down to write) to answer some OTP asks for Hamid x Daphne and Nate x Stella (TWC). I was debating if I'd include Liam x Jade, but I might give away the plot of Happily Ever After in one of the questions, so nope 😅
When it comes to other people's stuff, I don't know... I'm not super active on Choices (or any fandom, for that matter) and I'm not familiar with most of the fandom and what people have been writing lately. I do have my faves (@missameliep @lilyoffandoms @storyofmychoices @princess-geek @noesapphic ) and they still write from time to time, but I'm not going to pester them for new fics. They have their own lives and write whenever they can. As a fan of their work, I respect their writing pace and I'm simply glad they're still here.
Thanks for the ask, anon!
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pxrplebxtterfly · 1 year
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Feeling Warmer? (Sam)
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18+
Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem reader
Warnings: blood, nudity, oral sex, penetrative sex, nothing too dark bc this is my first fic ever.
Summary: Sam shows up at your door freezing and bleeding.
Word count: 3k
Notes: This is my first fic!! I’ve never written anything like this before so if anyone has any advice, please let me know! Also, this fic is in first person but does not use any particular name for the reader. Also, this same fic but for Dean, will be posted on my account. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy! (all gifs belong to me)
❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀
I've known him for two years now. Within these two years, I’ve found myself attracted to him more than I’d like to be; especially because he’s a friend. But there’s something about his character that stirs something in me.
As a self proclaimed “good” witch, I focus my craft on helping others. That's how I met Sam and his brother Dean. 
Both hunters, they kill monsters like me; except I'm not a monster. I met him when he came to town on a case, hunting another witch. Locals talked to them about me and they confronted me at my home. Before killing me, the other witch appeared, to watch them kill me and then to kill them. 
Either way, before they could hurt me too badly, I was able to recite a spell and trigger the hex bag the other witch stood under. She sparked into flames and burnt to ash in my doorway. 
Realizing I had helped them, they decided to hear me out and let me explain myself. I told them how I was raised by a coven, that was devoted to nature and the ways it can be harnessed to do good. 
They let me live, noting I was still mortal. Since then I've been helping them occasionally, when they need it. 
I hadn't heard from them in a while until one of them, the one I've always liked more, shows up at my door.
“Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?” I ask.
Sam's standing on my doorstep, the cold, dim light from the porch lamp creating deep shadows over his tall form. Snow is piling up outside, coating my lawn and the fields around my house. 
He’s covered in snow, soaking wet, and almost frozen, making him shiver intensely. There’s dried blood from small cuts on his face. 
“Demon” he pants.
Bruises are starting to form on his eye and jaw. I grab his wrist to pull him inside and feel that his skin is like ice.
“Jesus, come in, I’ll start a bath for you, you’re freezing” I say, feeling his large hands between my own. I walk to the bathroom and kneel next to the bathtub. I turn on the hot water and the water starts to fill the basin. 
“What happened?” I ask.
“I was a quarter way to the city and my car ran out of gas. I knew it was something else when the gas meter was still on half a tank. A demon pulled me out of the car and roughed me up a bit but I've got the knife so I was able to… get away” he hesitates and adjusts his words appropriately but I know what he means. “Out here, you’re the closest to where I was” he explains, teeth chattering and pain in his eyes.
“How long did it take you to get here?” 
“Forty-five minutes maybe” he says, hugging himself and still shivering.
“Where’s Dean? I didn’t know the both of you were in town,” I ask, getting up from my knees to face him.
“He’s with Bobby in Tulsa working on a case. I was on my way down there, and was hoping to make it by morning.”
“Why weren’t you with them?”
“Since when did you become so inquisitive?” 
I roll my eyes and say “Nevermind, I was just wondering”
Steam begins to rise off the water's surface and that’s when I say, “Okay, cmon get this stuff off.”
He begins to pull off his jacket but has trouble with his cold, stiff muscles and frozen clothes so I reach over to help. I pry his jacket off and then lift his shirt. He shivers when I peel his shirt off his back. 
I can't help but admire his tanned, muscular torso, chest, and arms. I sometimes forget just how enjoyable his body is to look at. 
“This is so pathetic” he says, and looks so shy about needing help.
“No it’s not, your clothes are frozen to your skin, just let me help you” I say.
Without thought, I sit on the edge of the bathtub and begin to unbuckle his belt. I look up at him and shrink when I see the way he’s looking at me. A look of shock and desperation is painted on his face. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think-” I apologize and remove my hands from his hips. 
He pauses, collecting his thoughts. I stand up, the most embarrassed I've ever been, and wait for him to move so I can leave.
Instead, he says, “It’s okay” softly and cautiously, looking at me. He pulls his belt off timidly and tosses it on the floor next to me. He continues undressing, unbuttoning his pants. I look away from him and let him peel his jeans down and off his legs. 
He stands upright, just in his underwear now, and looks down at me with coyness. Trying hard not to glance down I say, “I don’t want to intrude”
“It’s alright” he nods and slides his boxers off. I don't look, but hear them hit the tile floor. 
I cannot begin to process the fact he’s bare in front of me. I'm so flustered at his lack of privacy that I can't move my feet. So instead, he takes a step past me to get into the bath.
I turn around and watch, hypnotized, as he lowers himself in, big hands, clutching the sides of the tub. I hold my breath watching his muscles work to ease him in.
“Nice and warm,” he says and looks at me. 
He’s so big he barely fits in the tub; thighs pressed against the sides, arms draped over the edge.
Trying to distract myself from his naked glory, I turn the faucet off. 
“Okay, um, I’m just gonna go read a book or something” I say, trying to brush off the awkward sexual tension. 
There is no friendly explanation for the occurrence that has just happened between us, and I need a moment to myself, to freak out alone. 
“Actually, will you stay?” he asks, puppy eyes and pretty eyelashes blinking at me.
“You want me to stay?” I can't understand what’s happening between us right now.
“Yeah, I… I don’t want to be alone right now” he almost begs.
“Oh-okay” I nod and say gently.
I notice the washcloth on the counter so I grab it, and sit next to the bath. The side of the tub cuts off part of my view of him so I'm able to relax a little bit more.
The swarming heat in my body, due to him, makes me confident enough to ask him something I'd never ask anyone else.
“Do you want me to?” I gesture at his cuts on his face with the washcloth. 
“Sure,” he says and sits up.
I soak the washcloth in the water and then bring it up, dripping wet, to his face. I tenderly pat at one of the wounds, dabbing at the blood. I hold his face gently with my other hand to steady my movements. He seethes slightly under my touch and the heat and longing in me increases. His eyes are shut in uncomfortability. 
When I finish cleaning up the cuts on his face, I dip the rag back into the water and then bring it to his shoulder. I rub his shoulder with the cloth and then squeeze it so the hot water can run down his back. As I rub him, I watch his skin and the way the water trickles over him. 
“Thank you” he says, his head hung, hair floppy, and the back of his neck on full display. There's something so tantalizing about it. 
“Of course, you looked like you had hypothermia,” I say.
“Nah, I’ll be okay” he looks over his shoulder at me, as if to say that he’s okay because of me.
I bite my lip in an attempt not to smile but it doesn’t work and I blush. I push myself to my knees and loom over him, trying to get a better angle for my arms. I don't look at what I want to look at, I stay focused on the rag. Even though my core is aching, I'm putting his comfort first.
I dip the cloth back into the water and this time bring it up to his chest. I run it over his collarbones and feel his heart beating fast. We stare at each other while I drag the washcloth over his tattoo and down his sternum. 
He looks up at me, so nervous, yet so bewitched.
Once again I bring my hand back down into the water but this time, my fingers brush something hard. I look down to see what I touched and see his erection.
“Oh, I didn't mean to-“ I stutter and look at him. He's looking right back at me with intense shame.
“I’m sorry,” he pants, “You’re just touching me so gently and you’re being so kind, I- I can’t help but-“
I shake my head, an apologetic look on my face and say, “Oh god, really it’s fine! I’m the one who should apologize, it’s my fault, I should have known, it wasn’t my intention”
He looks away, “I should leave,” he starts to say, but I can hear in his voice it’s only because he’s embarrassed.
“And go where? You don’t have a car, outside’s a blizzard by now, and I'm not driving you into town at this hour, no place will be open" I say, trying not to sound desperate. 
While I completely am, if he’s not okay with this, then neither am I. However, that doesn’t mean I don't want to try to seize the opportunity.
“You’re right but this is really embarrassing and I don't want to make you uncomfortable” he says, almost restless.
“You’re not,” I say, “I- I’m willing to- I just want to take care of you. Will you let me help?” 
This is the moment. The moment I've been waiting for since I met him.
He hesitates, “What do you mean by help?” he asks and looks so infatuated.
“I mean this” I say and go in slowly to kiss him. After I kiss him he stares at my lips for a second, but then kisses me back deeply. He brings his wet hand up to my face, tangling my hair. He caresses my face with his other hand as I timidly slide my tongue into his mouth. Our kissing is passionate and aches with years of unspoken lust. 
I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, and then run them up his neck to hold his face and then back down again. 
I decide to get bold, so I submerge my hand in the water and wrap it around him.
He moans into me, surprised by my boldness. He whispers out “Fuck” as we part and searches my eyes, as if trying to figure out if I’m insane or not. He leans back letting me continue. I begin to pump and he closes his eyes in pleasure. 
His chest is heaving and he’s biting down on his fist to try and keep himself at bay. 
“God,” he hisses, “you’re so good at that”
His hips start to raise and thrust into my fist and that’s when I decide he’s done bathing.
My arms and knees are sore and I need to sit down on something comfortable. I let go of his cock and he groans. 
“Can we go to the living room?” I ask, standing up.
He doesn’t answer, just scrambles to drain the tub and get out.
He follows me down the hallway, damp feet padding behind me. When we get to the living room, the fire in the fireplace is burning bright and I sit on the couch in front of it. 
He has the towel wrapped low around his waist, hardly covering anything.
Before I'm even able to invite him to sit next to me, he’s kneeling in front of me, face hovering in front of my knees.
“What are you doing?” I giggle.
“I just want to look at you” he breathes out, unable to hold back a grin.
“Okay” I whisper and smile.
He peppers kisses on my knees and my thighs, slowly working his way to my core. Before he goes too far he asks, “Can I?” referring to the pajama shorts I'm wearing and I nod.
He reaches up and tugs my shorts off leaving me in just my panties. 
He spreads my legs apart and says, “Fuck, you’re so wet,” noticing the damp spot on my underwear.
He brings the knuckle of his finger to my cunt and brushes the wet patch. I whimper, wanting him to touch me more. He looks up at me and scoffs through a smile. He doesn’t break eye contact as he begins to kiss and suck all over the insides of my thighs.
Naturally, my legs try to close but he keeps me spread with his huge hands, so that he can tease me a bit. 
He pulls back and slips his hands in the band of my panties and pulls them off me.
“Fuuuck, look at you” he drawls when he’s eye level with my throbbing pussy. “Can I taste you?”
I nod enthusiastically, and watch as he kisses my clit. I feel his finger run through my entrance collecting my arousal. He brings his finger to my clit and rubs it gently.
I moan at his touch, and the way he cares to make sure I’m wet all over. Then he wraps his arms around my legs, enabling him to stay nuzzled close to me.
He slides his tongue over my hole. I lean back into the couch. He begins to make out with my cunt and I almost faint from how sexy he is and how good he’s making me feel.
“Jesus” I stutter. His mouth feels so nice on me that I sit back up and hold his head while his nose is burying into my clit. I squeal as he tongue-fucks me and grind up into his face. I run my hands through his hair pulling at it and he moans into me. 
I can’t help but groan from the waves of heat I’m experiencing. I’m almost at my climax but I want this to be drawn out as long as it can, so I decide to stop him. 
I push at his head and he looks up at me, the lower half of his face shiny. 
“God,” I whisper and shake my head slightly, in disbelief at his perfection. 
“What?” he asks.
“You’re just so…” I can’t finish my thought with my head swimming the way it is. 
He laughs at me but stretches up to kiss me. I taste myself on him and it only makes me feel hotter. I pull his body flush against mine and can feel his dick through the towel on my lower stomach. Evidently he feels it too and begins to rut against me.
He pulls the towel off and now his cock is poking at the hem of my shirt. I once again wrap my palm around him and massage his pre-cum into his dick. I rub my thumb underneath the head of his cock and he moans. 
“Oh, do you like that?” I ask sultrily.
“Fuck yeah I do” he replies against my neck. His hands are digging into the cushions of the couch beside my legs. 
I take my other hand and alternate between fondling his balls and pumping along with my right hand.
“You’re so good to me” he says breathlessly, his head buried into my shoulder. He keeps trying to kiss my shoulder and collarbone but fails due to the overwhelming pleasure. 
“I know baby” I say into his ear and kiss it.
He’s moaning and thrusting into my hands, but pulls away so he can look at me. I become even more wet as I watch him get off in my hands. 
“Hold on,” I say and slow my movements. 
He grunts as I slow down and says, “You’re killing me”
It’s because I’ve edged him twice now and I chuckle.
“I want you to fuck me” 
“I can do that” he nods, drunk off his denial.
“Oh good” I reply and kiss him. 
I reach over to the little end table next to the couch and pull out a condom.
He raises an eyebrow at me, intrigued that I keep them close. I hand it to him and let him put it on while I lay back on the couch.
Condom on, he climbs on top of me kissing my stomach up to my breasts, neck, and then mouth. He rubs my clit with one hand and I rock my hips into his palm. 
He’s breathing fast when he pulls away and looks down at my entrance. He swipes his dick through my folds and prods at my weeping hole. 
“Please” I whine, begging him to fill me.
He pushes into me and instantly seethes and moans when my tightness tries to push him out. 
“Jesus” he stutters as he begins to fuck me.
I’m whimpering under him, completely helpless to his massive frame. He’s looking into my eyes while I run my hands up into his hair and hold his body against mine. I can’t stop muttering curse words and babbling nonsense as he hits that deep spot inside of me.
He’s panting and groaning in my ear and I feel myself clenching around him, and building up to my climax.
I reach my hand in between our bodies to help further myself along, when he whispers “I’m so close”
Instantly I’m reaching the edge and so is he. In a tremendous peak, we both come. He continues to fuck into me while we ride our orgasms. I think I’ve gone both blind and deaf with the surge of pleasure I felt. 
As we come down from our highs, he slows his thrusts and kisses me over and over, everywhere on my face. He eventually pulls out and we both sigh, at the feeling. 
He pulls the condom off and flings it in the wastebasket under the end table. 
Then, he lays next to me on the couch and holds me against him. He kisses my forehead again and again while he rubs my arm gently. I bury into his side and drape my arm over his torso. 
“Feeling warmer?” I tease.
“Absolutely,” he laughs. 
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ryttu3k · 7 months
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Current play updates! I got the Explorer-mode multiclass mod, and Tae now has the first level of Cleric! (Of Eilistraee, ofc.) Also gave them longsword proficiency, so they can use Phalar Aluve. Honestly probably won't be levelling up Cleric any further, I genuinely just wanted the dialogue options.
Also gave Astarion the first level of Bard. Listen he's made for using Vicious Mockery.
Storywise, pretty sure I'm at the end of act 1! Really only got two things left - the elevator at Grymforge, or the Mountain Pass. Image-heavy below the cut!
I know that taking the elevator at Grymforge definitely leads into act 2. Not sure about the mountain pass, so I may do that first and just… see how it goes. That's where I stopped first time because it warned about me being underlevelled (I was on 4 at the time, I think); since I'm using both the EXP mod and the no party limits mod, I'm, uh, now level 8 across the board instead and now have seven level-8 characters instead of four level-4 characters… bit of a difference, haha.
As suspected, the Underdark was interesting as hell as a drow. Lots of fear from characters like the gnomes, lots of characters assuming you're Just Another Drow In Service To The Absolute, like this guy. Honestly, was pretty satisfying kicking Nere's ass.
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Tae is So Grossed Out but stuck to the more important point.
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I actually ended up doing the third option and got some interesting side-eyes, but it didn't end in a fight. Ended up killing them later in the fight against Nere, anyway.
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The discovery that the drow in the cages were likely surface drow… as in Tae's people… oh yeah, they killed him.
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Interesting responses from Astarion (not in the image, just for this part in general). He actually tended to disapprove of things like helping the enslaved gnomes? I'm kind of wondering if it's trauma-based resentment, like, "No one ever helped me, why are you going out of your way to help others?" It's still very early on in his arc here, especially since Tae isn't romancing him, and I suspect a lot of those disapprovals are like…
He still almost has this mindset of 'slaves deserve what they get, they're just slaves, they're not actual people'. Because if he acknowledges that the gnomes are people as well, then he has to acknowledge his own personhood and the two hundred years of trauma that accompanied it. With the Moonlight Towers conversation, he admits he had still been thinking like a slave, and we haven't even got there yet. A lot of the disapproval may be from Cazador's conditioning, which is genuinely depressing.
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Gale's response when Tae told the duergar to free the gnomes. I goddamn love how much the characters respond to stuff autonomously, it makes them feel so much more like people, not just collections of stats.
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Of course, it's not all murdering! Here is some cuteness. One of those delightful times you get both [Astarion approves] and [Karlach approves]…
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The babies <3
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Thanks cutiepie it's appreciated <3
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Thanks to a staff that creates rain, Karlach gets smooched!!
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I swear we just have super high approval as friends XD;; Actually, honestly, I suspect Tae is ace or acespec, so even when Karlach does get her engine fixed, I can see a situation where it's like... Tae is unsure about anything beyond all the cuddles and maybe some kisses, and given that Shadowheart and Lae'zel are both pretty thirsty for Karlach and they're sleeping with each other (or, uh, have at least once), Karlach can do more sexual things with them while her more romantic relationship is with Tae? Hmm!
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Barcus I would die for you. We are definitely going to have to rescue the little shit (affectionate) again at some point, right.
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And finally, sh-she handsome…
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