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revasserium · 7 months

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Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

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headkiss · 5 months

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omg reader and jack making hotch a cute personal christmas present together would absolutely melt my heart 😭❤️ (and hotch's too)

hi lovely! thank u sm for ur request i hope u like it <333 | 0.8k of fluff with jack and hotch!

Aaron Hotchner breathes warmth into your life.

It’s in everything he does. The way he stocks his cupboards with your favorite snacks, the drawers in his dresser that are now yours, the extra hook by the door for your jacket. You never thought you’d find someone like him, someone who treats you so well.

It isn’t just with you, either.

There’s his team and how highly they speak of him, how highly he speaks of them, too. And, of course, there’s his son.

Jack looks up to his dad in a way that tugs at your heartstrings whenever you see it. He sits in his office with him whenever Hotch will let him, even highlights and writes over fake files Aaron gives him that are much more innocent than the ones the BAU actually deal with.

And because Aaron raised him, Jack has that same warmth his father does, only he doesn’t try to conceal it nearly as much.

You’d been worried at first, about what Jack would think of you, how he’d react to a new person in not only his life, but Aaron’s, too. Now, all you feel is lucky that you get to be a part of their life.

With Christmas coming up, you feel luckier than ever.

Jack had waited until Aaron was in the washroom the last time you were over to ask you if you’d help him make a gift for Hotch, and your answer of ‘of course’ was simple as breathing.

Now, you’re sitting with Jack at the kitchen table, Aaron still at the office. You picked him up from school—something you’re happy to do whenever Hotch needs the help, something that makes you feel lucky, too—and went to the craft store before coming back and setting up.

There are supplies spread across the table, markers and glue, stickers and printed pictures.

“Can you pass me the blue, please?” Jack asks you.

You smile, handing him the marker he asked for and smiling even bigger at his sweet ‘thank you.’ Then, you hear the jingle of keys turning in the door, and you and Jack look at each other surprised, his eyes wide.

“How about this,” you say, “I’ll distract your dad, you hide his present, yeah? We’ll finish it next time, promise.”

Jack nods, his face serious like you’ve just given him a real mission. He starts packing things up right away.

Aaron rarely comes home early, no matter how much he wants to. He’s focused, determined, always doing as much as he can while he’s in the office. So, whenever he gets the chance, he tries to get home sooner. To get home to Jack. To you.

His shoulders feel lighter as soon as he steps inside, as soon as he hears the muffled sound of your voice, the response of his son’s laughter.

You come out of the kitchen, the neckline of your t-shirt loose over your shoulder, a pair of Aaron’s socks bunched at your ankles. “Hey, Hotchner. You’re home early.”

“Hi, honey.” Aaron sets his things down, opting to get you in his arms, instead. He reaches for you at the same time you move towards him, like magnets. He trails his fingertips down your arms, holding your hands in his. “Where’s Jack?”

You squeeze Aaron’s hands once before letting go. “One second.”

You turn back to the kitchen, peeking your head in to find that Jack has, for the most part, cleared the table of any evidence. When you look at him, he gives you a thumbs up, “all clear.”

Hotch knows something’s going on with the way you’re acting. He is a profiler, after all. But he decides not to ask, because he trusts you, and he figures he’ll find out soon enough.

You’ve never been the best at keeping secrets from him.

He comes into the kitchen after you, tossing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you closer so he can press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Dad!” Jack cheers, rushing to hug Aaron’s legs.

“Hey, buddy.”

When Aaron looks at the table, he notices that Jack must’ve missed a spot when hiding any evidence, leaving behind two markers. Red and green.

He can feel his heartbeat do something funny in his chest, jumping, skipping, like the rhythm has shifted to beat in a different pattern. He thinks about what you must’ve been doing: making some sort of gift with Jack.

Aaron didn’t think he could love his family anymore, then you came into it and everything felt right, like you’d been the last puzzle piece to click into place.

He pats Jack on the shoulder and kisses your head again.

And on Christmas morning, when Aaron opens the scrapbook you and Jack made him, his smile is instant and wide. He swears he feels his heart swell in his chest.

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seresinhangmanjake · 10 months

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omg L-O-V-E-D your recent drabble! 😍🥰 will we get to see the disneyland trip?? (no pressure :)

Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this one, too :)

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Oh, Baby Series

words: 623

"Alright, baby girl, listen up."

You were surprised your daughter managed to follow your husband's orders in her state. Her ears were full of laughter and playful screams, her nose taking in the drifting scent of cotton candy and popcorn, while her eyes were wide as saucers, trying to absorb every colorful, animated sight before her. But her father's voice broke through the distractions enough to tug at her attention.

She released your hand to take both of his, and you chuckled as she stared up at him with a wide smile, her arms swaying side to side and thus doing the same to his.

You were tempted to snap a picture of the moment. Your daughter's face was morphed with uncontained excitement, and though Jake's held an intense seriousness, it did nothing to so much as stutter Eve's expression.

"What, Daddy?"

"Rule one," he began and Eve nodded vigorously, "No whining about the roller-coasters. Some of them you just aren't old enough to ride yet and you know it. Safe rides until you're taller. Rule 2: The princess-shaped gummies in the baggies at the candy shop have to be paid for before you start snacking. And rule three: No running off from Mama and Daddy."

Jake had that way about him. He loved to have his fun—perhaps a bit too much at one point in time—but with Eve, fun came alongside ground rules. And you couldn’t exactly blame him. As your daughter grew, Jake’s mother was sure to inform you that the little girl’s energy directly matched that of her own son’s at the same age. A ‘wild boy’ was what she called him, and you couldn’t deny Eve was already succeeding at following in her father’s hyperactive footsteps.

“Ok!” Eve suddenly shrieked, pulling out of Jake’s hands. She spun until her back was to you, her feet already in her ‘I’m ready to dash’ position. She was quick, that was for sure, but Jake was quicker.

His finger tucked into the neck of her t-shirt just before she flew out of reach. “That would be running off,” he said, lightly guiding her back to him.

With a huff, she faced the two of you. “But you guys are going to be too slow!”

You snorted then and crossed your arms. “Trust me, sweetie, your daddy has never been slow at anything.”

Jake shot you a playful look, his lips quirking up a little in the left corner. “Except talking to you that first time.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “It did take you a while. You just stared from afar all night.”

You were given a wink in return and Jake’s lips parted for what would have been an undoubtedly witty retort that never came due to your daughter’s interruption.

“Daddy, staring is bad manners.”

He tore his eyes from yours and directed his sight back to his daughter. “Yes, thank you, baby.”

“Can we go now?”

Jake crouched in front of her so they were near eye level and adjusted the Mickey ears atop her head until they were straight. “What are the rules?”

Counting with her fingers, she repeated the list. “No grumpies about roll-coasters, no gummies until Mama and Daddy say ok, and no running away.”

“Correct,” Jake praised with one sharp nod, then he held up his hand for a high-five. Eve did a little jump to power the force of her palm smacking against his. “You, baby girl, just won yourself an extra balloon on our way out.”

“Really!”

“Yep.” Standing to full height, he brushed a wayward curl out of her face. “Now lead the way with your walking steps.”

She slipped one hand into his, the other into yours, and proceeded to do just that.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

---

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #dad!Jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin top gun #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #dad!jake seresin x reader

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promptthebear · 1 year

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Oh my god I just found you through AO3! I'm so excited to read your other works! If you wouldn't mind, I would love to hear some of your headcannons for Tyrion! 🧺

Okay, so I thought a lot about this one and well, this is what I decided on so hopefully it’s okay 🫣

In my defence, I’ve been lurking on the Tyrion x Reader tag for a loooong while and always secretly hoped someone would do this first but unfortunately not so here goes.

PS. This ended up being so long holy shit. Some of these prompts ending up being almost mini fics in their own right. Wish I could say I'm sorry about it...but my Mom taught me not to lie so.

🔥Tyrion Lannister NSFW Alphabet🔥

CW: Brief mentions of canon typical assault and violence. Discussions of soft dom/sub dynamics. Also what it says on the tin, discussions of sex and sexual content.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Say it with me now, this man is an aftercare KING. To him, it’s almost as important as the main event, a good story needs a satisfying epilogue after all.

This is partially from his years of experience, but also his own desire to feel loved. We all know Tyrion’s met his needs exclusively with sex workers since Tysha left his life. He knows how awful it is to wake to an empty bed and cold sheets, but is also very much aware that’s part and parcel with the life he’s chosen.

When you come around, whether that’s through a spontaneous relationship or an arranged marriage, Tyrion wants to give you the full benefit of all he has to offer. It’s pretty normal for you to spend hours cuddled up in bed, basking in the after glow, talking about nothing in particular and feeding each other little bites of food and sips of wine.

If you’re really lucky, Tyrion might also read a little to you from whatever book he’s got on hand. He loves nothing more than to have you rest your head against his bare chest while he murmurs into your hair about history or herb sciences or whatever’s caught his interest this week.

Tyrion also isn’t opposed to helping you clean up or having a shared bath. You can bet he’d be extremely gentle and attentive, taking extra care with anywhere on your body that may be sore or sensitive. He’ll also get frequently distracted from the task at hand to stop and tell you how beautiful you are, how much he cares about you and to cover your face and body in soft kisses.

This man just has a lot of love to give, and when you have his trust and commitment, he’s going to be thrilled at finally having someone to share it with. Every once and awhile, you’ll catch him running his hands over your body while you’re together, like he’s trying to memorize every inch before you disappear. Enjoy those moments, it means he’s finally starting to let his walls down and accept you’re sticking with him for good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Okay, so these two are going to be really obvious but I’ll explain, I promise. There’s not a lot Tyrion likes about himself. He’s accepted what he is, but that doesn’t mean he always likes it. However, when pressed he’ll admit that what he’s most proud of are his mind and his cock.

His mind is a given. It’s what keeps him alive and valuable in the political minefield that is King’s Landing. Without that, who knows what would have happened to him? He also loves when he can use his wit to make you smile or gods willing, laugh. Your laughter is the most precious sound in the world to Tyrion and he loves that he can be the cause behind it.

As for his cock, well, it’s mentioned in the books that Tyrion feels like in the dark, he feels and can be the same as any other man. He truly seems to feel that in the bedroom, it’s the one other place his size doesn’t matter. His equipment works as well as anyone else’s, and he’s very proud of all the pleasure it brings you.

When it comes to his lover, Tyrion really only has two priorities. He likes breasts and a good heart. Everything else is just gravy.

Based on his love scenes with Shae in the books, I feel like Tyrion is a big fan of boobs. He even jokes about it when he meets Oberyn about how a tit in his mouth is the only thing that can still stop him fussing. Also, see the gif above lol. Whenever he’s had a hard day, Tyrion wants nothing more than to open your dress, and bury his face into your chest where he can lose himself in the softness of your skin and scent of your perfume.

Breast size also isn’t a deal breaker for Tyrion. As far as he’s concerned, any breasts of any shape or size are wonderful. If you’ve ever felt self conscious about what’s in your corset, that won’t be a problem after Tyrion’s got his hands on you. He spends so much time caressing and kissing them that you start to love them as much as he does. And if anyone makes any snide remarks about you not being well endowed enough? Well, Tyrion’s got some extra creative ways to make them reconsider that train of thought.

Above all else though, he needs someone kind. He’s been surrounded with liars and people who are trying to manipulate him for so long, that in the end he figures that's all there is for him. Of course, the second he realizes hes with someone a little too like Cersi or any number of the social climbers at court, then things are going to go tits up. That relationship will crash and burn so quickly, and the fall out is incredibly messy. Tyrion will then turn to drink and brothels to lessen his pain, meets a new distraction who smells an opportunity and the vicious cycle starts all over again. Which is not to say any of the women Tyrion finds himself with during this time are to blame for being insincere, they're trying to survive same as anyone else and hes a promising meal ticket.

If anything, the fault for this lies with Tyrion’s own self destructive tendencies and all the bullshit Tywin’s put into his head over the years. His father has allowed his son so few opportunities to have love and be loved, that whether he knows it or not, Tyrion keeps choosing poor matches to keep one step ahead of Tywin and be hurt on his own terms. Heartbreak is heartbreak, but having pain you control is slightly better than having it forced on you at any given moment.

The best chance you have of breaking this pattern and actually have a genuine relationship with Tyrion is by being sweet with him. He’s going to fight it at first, kindness is so alien to him that he takes it as exploitation at face value and will either brush it aside with a well placed quip or outright deny it to your face. Have a little patience. Tyrion has wrapped his hurt around his heart like a protective shell, but once he realizes you’re different and truly care about him, hooo boy. The flood of affection and loyalty you’ll get from him will be unparalleled, so it’s well worth the wait.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Over the years, Tyrion’s found some pretty creative places to deposit his seed. It just kind of happens when you frequent brothels exclusively. As much as those places PROMISE the women won't give you a bastard, pretty words don't mean a whole lot when an unplanned child shows up on your doorstep, so Tyrion’s learned to be extra cautious.

If the two of you aren’t married or just casual lovers, Tyrion will probably keep that same practice if only to preserve your honour. Your mouth, breasts and stomach are perfectly good options as far as he’s concerned, be ready to hear some “pearl necklace” jokes out of him.

If the two of you are married though? Inside, hands down, 100%. With your consent that’s always where he wants to finish, both because of the closeness it creates between the two of you and also the added benefit of possibly getting you pregnant. To Tyrion, this is a true testament to how much you love and trust him, and a way to mark you to others as his and his alone. Just knowing you want to be with him and bear his children can be as much of a turn on for him as the actual sex itself.

Sometimes when he’s done, he’ll sit back and spread your legs to have a nice, long look at his handiwork. It‘s just so satisfying to see his cum dripping out of your cunt, and odds are this’ll have him raring to go again before your first orgasm is completely out of your system. The two of you won’t have any problems producing an heir, trust me.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There’s not a lot Tyrion keeps to himself when it comes to sex. He’s a pretty open book, and when you’ve visited every brothel from the North to the last port before the Free Cities, sometimes your secrets get told for you.

However, the one thing Tyrion’s managed to keep out of public knowledge is an ongoing fantasy he’s had about fucking his lover or wife in his father’s bedroom at Casterly Rock.

It’s not that Tyrion wants to be his father necessarily, as much as he jokes about being Tywin made again on half the scale. It’s more so about taking control in a way that would shock and appall Tywin, with a hint of added vengeance for what happened to Tysha. His father has had his fingers in Tyrion’s private matters for so long that he’d love nothing more than to finally turn the tables and truly make Casterly Rock his “whorehouse” like Tywin’s always feared.

I don’t think this is a fantasy he’d ever admit to anyone though, not even to you, no matter how drunk he gets or how long you’ve been together. It’s too strange and too petty to suggest to anyone…right?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

We all know it, our boy has had more lovers in the short time he’s been alive than some men will ever see in a thousand lifetimes. The benefit to this, though, is he’s had some amazing teachers and has learned some pretty special skills he can’t wait to try with you.

If you’re a virgin when the two of you meet or married, then Tyrion will take excellent care of you, making sure you’re safe, comfortable and cumming until you don’t know your own name. But if you're on the more experienced side? Well, get ready to be put through your paces, Tyrion wants to see what you’re really made of and maybe show you some new things along the way.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Now, Tyrion’s tried every position in recorded human history and invented some new ones just for kicks. But, unfortunately, if there’s a significant height difference between you two then his size is something you'll need to be mindful of. There are some positions that just won't be comfortable or even pleasurable for either of you, regardless of foreplay or flexibility.

Since he’s aware and very accepting of his limitations, there are a few tried and true positions Tyrion falls back on because he’s found that they’re consistently enjoyable for both him and his partner, while still allowing for some variation.

The first of these is, unsurprisingly, cowgirl. Having you on top is the easiest way to negate any major differences in height or physicality. It’s also a lot less painful for Tyrion’s legs, and allows him easy access to your clit and breasts, as well as having full view of your face so he can gauge your enjoyment. This position also affords itself to different paces, whether you're going for something soft and sweet with gentle words whispered between quiet grasps, or something more frantic and rougher where Tyrion meets you thrust for thrust by grabbing hold of your ass and pushing his hips up against yours.

There’s also just something about letting you have control of your pleasure and the sight of you hovering above him like some kind of sensual goddess that leaves Tyrion entranced. He absolutely loves watching you come undone above him, every slight shift in your expression, every little noise you make, they’re all incredibly precious to him. If he’s ever particularly distracted in his work, if he’s messing up his sums or seems miles away listening to petitions at court, you know it’s because he’s reliving these beautiful moments again in his mind and wondering how to make next time even better for the two of you.

Now, while Tyrion values sex for the romance and intimacy it can create between partners, there are also many times where he’s in desperate need of stress relief and the only way he’s going to get it is by fucking it out of you. On days where court has gone on for longer than usual, or the council is being extra stupid or Joffery has somehow managed to reach new levels of depravity yet again, the only position Tyrion is interested in is doggy style.

Everything about this position with him is going to be fast, rough, and probably a little messy. As soon as you’ve given him the go ahead, he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface and rucking your skirts and petticoats up to your navel. Any foreplay you have is going to be rushed, Tyrion’s not normally a selfish lover but when he gets like this, all he wants is to have you ready enough so as not to cause you pain. You can expect him to work you over quickly with two of his fingers thrust into your cunt and his mouth attacking your clit relentlessly. The second he feels you start getting wet, it’s all he can do to mutter “turn over” between clenched teeth and then he’s on you like a man possessed

From this point, the best advice I can give you is to hang on for dear life, because this isn’t going to be the Tyrion you’re used to. He’s basically going to use you like a human cocksleeve, gripping onto fistfuls of your skirts and thrusting into you at breakneck speeds. The change in angle would also allow him to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars, again and again. It’s both too much and not enough all at once, and you’d be a whimpering mess within minutes, not that Tyrion would take any notice. Normally, he’s very attentive but in this moment he’d been far too concerned with chasing his own pleasure, a far off look in hi eye as he grunts and moans softly with each push of his hips.

When he finally cums, it’s like some strange spell over him finally breaks. He’d bed over your back, shoving his face against the fabric of your dress to muffle his half strangled cry. You’d be pretty much collapsed at this point, your elbows long since given out supporting you in the face of so many quick fire orgasms. Tyrion would pull out of you, shaky and breathing hard, and somehow manage to walk on wobbling legs around to where he can look you in the eye. He’d push your sweaty hair back from your face, and cup your flushed cheeks in his hands like he’s afraid you might break into a thousand pieces.

The first words out of his mouth would then be “I’m sorry” as he pulls you into his waiting embrace and brings up a hand to cup the back of your head. He’d hold you like that for a long while, apologizing profusely for being so rough with you and explaining about all the bullshit he endured today, and how thankful he is that he can come home and have you here to take care of him. He’d be so worried he’s hurt you, and all but weeps in relief when you manage a tired smile and a soft “It’s alright. I know, things have been tough on you. You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.” Expect lots of extra attention from him and treats tonight, as well as a long hot bath in your future.

When Tyrion isn’t trying to screw his problems away, I can also see him actually enjoying missionary a fair bit. While it isn’t the most ideal position, he can’t kiss you as much as he wants and being on his knees for so long will have his legs spasming for awhile afterwards, it does have its merits. He loves being able to play with your clit so easily, and the feel of your ankles hooking around his back. This position also gives him the perfect angle to bury his face in your breasts and he’s cum like that on more than one occasion.

Tyrion is also a bit of a romantic at heart, though he wouldn’t admit that for love or money. The fact that this position is so traditional in its essence is actually something he really enjoys. It reminds him of his first time with Tysha, the two of them fumbling and in love and having no clues about sex beyond this one basic thing. There’s so little that hearkens back to happier times in Tyrion’s life, the few things that allow him to do so, he’ll want to cherish them at every opportunity.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh gods, Tyrion is secretly the biggest goofball. You see a little bit of it in the books when he’s teasing Tysha and Shae, and if you’re receptive to that kind of thing he’ll be more than happy to provide it for you. This man could be buried in you to the hilt and pausing to crack jokes. If someone happens to fart or make a strange sound or maybe experience a sudden onset cramp? No worries, Tyrion will take it in stride with plenty good humour.

When you’ve had sex as many times as he has, you quickly realize it’s not as pretty or seamless as the stories and songs often depict. In the real world, people and their bodies are flawed. Things don’t always go as planned even when you’re being intimate, and being able to experience everything you have to offer no matter how embarrassing is what Tyrion considers to be one of the many pleasures of being with you. Besides, if you don’t laugh at yourself first, other people don’t hesitate to do it for you, so why not beat them to the punch?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the caret match the drapes? etc.)

So I feel like shaving and waxing isn’t really a “thing” in Westeros, outside maybe some of the more exotic brothels closer to the Free Cities and such. This means that Tyrion goes au naturel so to speak, and while he’s not as hairy as some men, he’s got a healthy patch of thick, reddish blonde curls down there. If it’s causing you discomfort or itching, he’d be happy to trim it back the same way he would his beard but I doubt he’d ever go completely bare down there either.

The added benefit of this is also that Tyrion wouldn’t expect you to remove your pubic hair either. If anything, he’d probably be a little uncomfortable with the idea? It would make you seem almost child-like, which would most certainly turn him off completely. He wants to be with a grown woman, and all that implies. A little hair isn’t going to bother him any.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

So, if the two of you are friends with benefits or this is a “transactional” relationship let’s say, Tyrion isn’t going to really push for intimacy. This is mostly because he doesn’t want to get too close to you, in case it gets him hurt again. He’ll be friendly and respectful, but don't expect any spontaneous compliments during sex or for him to stay with you too long afterwards. As far as he’s concerned, that kind of entanglement doesn’t end well for anyone involved but we also know this man is going to have a hard time keeping his emotions out of it no matter how hard he tries.

If the two of you are married or have a committed relationship? Oh. My. God. Extra won’t even begin to cover it.

A much as he claims to be selfish and cynical, Tyrion’s a giver by nature. When he falls for you, he’s going to fall hard and he’ll want to let you know any way he can. He’ll basically be spouting off the cuff poetry while the two of you are having sex with the compliments he’s giving. He’ll shower you with sweet talk, kisses, anything you want. If you’re a rose petal and candle kind of gal, you can expect that too. If he can’t provide what you want, he’ll learn how to or find a way to get it for you. Hell, if you mention your favourite colour to him even just in passing, he'd probably redecorate his bedhcambers to suit your preference. After a lifetime of being treated like dogshit, you’d have this man wrapped around your little finger, so please please please be kind to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It’s pretty much book canon that Tyrion jerks off…a lot, and while his preference is always going to be to look to you for his needs, unfortunately his job calls him away a lot. If he’s especially fond of you, he might even move you out of Kings Landing entirely and into The Rock at the first opportunity, just to keep you safe. When distance is an obstacle, he’d probably go back to the company of his hands most evenings, though now he’s at least got you to fantasize about. Don’t be surprised if one of your scarves or hair ribbons or even some of your smallclothes go missing right after Tyrion leaves home again. You’ll get them back, I promise, your lover just needs a little “motivation” while he’s away.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Acts of service/ Service dom: So, most of his life, Tyrion’s had to take care of himself and also has been denied a lot of opportunities to offer his care to other people. The result of this is that he craves any chance to experience either, especially where any kind of intimacy is involved. I truly see Tyrion as a switch, so he’ll want to use acts of service as both the submissive and dominant partner, even if Westeros hasn’t provided the vocabulary to label these experiences as such.

For example, he loves taking care of you. If you want him to brush your hair, he’s happy to comply. Help you dress yourself if your maid’s been “given the morning off?” Yes ma’am. Run you a bath and assist you with washing? Say the word and hes there. Now, in these moments you may appear to be the dominant one, but thats nowhere close to the truth. By allowing yourself to be vulnerable, you’re giving Tyrion the power and control, but he’d never take advantage of it. At most, he’s a soft dom. He may occasionally give orders or make decisions for you, but he does so only after reminding you that you can ask him to stop at any time.

This is also just such a self indulgent fantasy, but I can see him being the type of dom to make a pet out of his lover? Not pet play exactly, but he’d refer to you as his “good girl” or precious one and have you sit, naked and kneeling on a silk pillow while your head resting on his thigh as he works or reads. He'd stop often to stroke your hair or speak to you softly, or maybe feed you a tasty little morsel or give you a sip of wine if you were willing. Theres no sadomasochism about this situation though, it comes from a place of nurturing and Tyrions desire to provide for you to the point where you don't have to do a thing for yourself.

When Tyrion plays the submissive, it looks very different. Your role as the dominant would be to assert yourself as a caretaker as well, so Tyrion actually takes a break from working and focuses on some selfcare for once. This can include massaging his back and legs, drawing a hot bath and helping him clean up or feeding him dinner, bite by bite. Tyrion would be the most willing submissive, and though he grumbles on principle he wouldn’t be bratty or need any sort of punishment besides maybe a gentle scolding now and again. Reaching this level of trust and intimacy with you is like his ultimate fantasy, so much of his life demands that he be in control that relinquishing it, even for a few hours, would be nothing short of paradise.

Overstimulation: So, we all know, Tyrion’s a very skilled lover. He knows tricks with his mouth and fingers that would surprise even Oberyn Martell, and he can make you cum faster than you ever thought possible. He loves to do this again and again, until you’re a shaking, babbling mess, only to push one more orgasm out of you. He really just wants to give you as much pleasure as you can take at any given moment and then a little more just because he loves you. It also can become sort of a competition thing between the two of you? I can absolutely see him looking up from between your legs, your release still on his lips while he smirks and you let out a “Fuck!” that indicates you’ve cum yet again. He’d give your cunt a gentle pat, arch his brow and ask “Do you think she’s had enough?” to which you’d let out a huff and stubbornly announce “Not even close” only to regret those words when you find yourself limping around the castle the next day.

The Book Game: I don’t know what else to call this, but basically that thing where you read something while your partner pleasures or fucks you and if you moan you don’t get to cum yet? This would be Tyrion’s absolute FAVOURITE thing, as it involves the best of both worlds, literature and sex. Watch out though, this man plays dirty and will probably hand you an erotic novel just make things more interesting.

Mutual masturbation: I don’t know why, but I just feel like Tyrion would be into this??? It probably comes back to how he wants to feel desirable and have someone look at him in all his naked glory without any outright disgust. If the two of you are doing this, expect Tyrion to light more than the usual amount of candles. He just wants to see you, to bask in your beauty as you get yourself off. Bonus points if he’s allowed to give you instructions while you do so.

Body worship: Oh Lord, is Tyrion ever into this one. If it’s your first time, he’d probably just do it to increase your pleasure and comfort with him touching you. And then it turns into a habit. The first time he does it, it’s while he’s undressing you. With your consent, he’d carefully remove your clothing and kiss each new inch of bared skin like his life depends on it. It’s only when you’re tingling all over and practically begging him to fuck you that he’d relent. Afterwards, I can see him making sort of a silly game out of it, naming each part of you he likes best before kissing on that same spot. Spoiler alert though, he loves all of you so he’s going to kiss everywhere.

Marking: Yes, but only for love bites and hickies. It’s a point of personal pride for Tyrion to show everyone that not only are you his, but you are more than happy to let him love on you. I can imagine that Cersi or his father are giving him shit one morning at breakfast because you aren’t pregnant yet, only for the two of them to immediately shut up when you walk into the dining room with a massive, fuck off hickey nestled in your cleavage. Tyrion would smirk into his coffee, and then wrap his arm around you shoulder and plant a kiss on your temple after you sit down next to him. You'd probably be beet red, knowing everyone is staring and why, but Tyrion doesn’t give a single fuck. He’d look his family dead in the face and ask “Anything else to add?” but all he’d get is a stony silence from Cersi and some derisive muttering from Tywin. At the very least, you’d have a few peaceful meals for a little while.

Spoiling: So this one is a little dicey. On the one hand, Tyrion doesn’t appreciate feeling like he’s being used for his family’s money. On the other hand, it’s deeply satisfying to him to use said money to get you whatever your little heart desires. All you have to do is mention you like something in passing and it’s yours. If you have any particular hobbies, Tyrion will make sure you’re well stocked with any supplies you need to do them. He also loves keeping you adorned in the finest jewels. I’ve always had a personal headcanon that he’d give his wife a very extravagant House Lannister pendant, a golden lion the size of your fist with ruby eyes on a thick, braided chain. Tywin would of course gripe at him for the extravagance, which Tyrion would wave off without a second thought. Also, he'd probably fuck you at some point while you’re wearing it lol.

Lingerie: The selection available in Westeros for this kind of thing probably isn’t super extensive, but what is available Tyrion will take full advantage of. It really gets him all hot and bothered that he’s the only one who gets to see you in this kind of stuff, and the feel of silk and lace under his fingers is an added bonus in an already pleasurable experience.

Praise Kink: Oh gods above and below, does Tyrion ever have a praise kink. Hardly anyone has had a kind word for this man in his whole life, so when he does hear any he goes completely feral. Please, tell him what a good boy he is and how good he’s making you feel and how handsome he is. He will absolutely lose his goddamn mind, as well as sell his soul to you on the spot. Tyrion will also return the favour if that’s something you want. He’s going to lavish on the compliments and flattery every chance he has, he’ll tell you you’re his stunning goddess of love and beauty and mean every word from the bottom of his heart.

Breeding: It takes a lot of work to get him to admit it, but I truly think Tyrion wants to be a father. Not because of any Lannister legacy bullshit like Tywin, he’d be thrilled if you gave him a pack of daughters. It’s more so that he really just wants to have a family of his own and to try and give his children the love he was denied in his own childhood. He’d be nervous about it at first, what if his children are too much like him? What if he loses you during the birth? Give him lots of patience and reassurance and before you know it, he’s dragging you off to put a babe in your belly ASAP.

Part of the attraction for Tyrion is watching you go through the experience of being pregnant. He loves your baby bump and your soft breasts. If the hormones have you riled, he’d be incredibly gentle while making love to you, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. He’d rub your ankles if they’re sore and have the maesters make hot compresses if your back hurts from carrying his child. You’re so beautiful to him like this, and any complaints about weight gain or stretch marks would be silenced with deep, open mouthed kisses. As long as it’s not any danger to you and you’re happy being a mother, Tyrion wants you pregnant as often as you can be. Don’t be surprised if you have a few “stepladder twins” who are less than a year apart.

It also comes back to a possession thing. Having you bear his children is the best way he can think of to show the world who you belong to. It would also be the one thing that would get Tywin off his back about “an heir and a spare” while deeply infuriating the man because there’s no way anyone would tolerate his son to conceive even one child, let alone two, but here you are all the same. Tyrion would be extra attentive to you while you’re pregnant in public, taking every opportunity he can to rest his hand on your growing belly and caress it gently. Even if people stare, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s proud of you and the baby you’re going to have, those idiots are just jealous because they know it’ll be the most beautiful child in all of Westeros and their little sprogs could never compete.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Now, even if the two of you were married while the Lannisters are in the Red Keep, Tyrion will point blank refuse to fuck you there unless his family is away, and even then maybe not. Its not that he doesn't want to or doesn'tlove you, it’s just that the walls have ears in this place. If it’s not Tywin or Cersi sticking their noses in his business, Vary' will probably have his “little birds” keeping a close watch on the two of you.

No, anywhere in Kings Landing is out of the question. You’re too important to Tyrion to risk having you used as a pawn in his family’s schemes. There’s no way he’s going to be ever able to completely let his guard down while you’re there, so first chance he’s got Tyrion is going to try and send you away somewhere safer.

Casterly Rock would be his first choice. With his father and sister busy stirring shit up in King’s Landing, they’d totally ignore the Rock despite it being their homeland, and as far as Tyrion’s concerned that makes it the perfect place. In spite of his rough childhood, he’s always felt protected there, and there would be so many things he’d want to show you. The library where he learned to read, the beach and its tide pools,the gardens and all the other secret places hed discovered as a boy. Also, having you stay in his childhood bedroom with him would be so special for Tyrion, the two of you snuggled up under familiar covers with the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. Casterly Rock was, and always will be his home and Tyrion wants nothing more than to make you a part of it for good.

If the Rock isn’t an option, I can also see him trying to negotiate the rights to some out of the way holdfast outside the city limits. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would certainly be less suffocating than The Red Keep and at least there he could choose his own guards to watch over you. Tyrion might even push for Jamie to come and mind you for a few days a week, in spite of Cersi’s protests. He trusts his brother more than anyone else, and knows that Jamie would do right by you even with their sister whispering in his ear because he loves Tyrion so much.

Once he has either one of these options secure, Tyrion would probably want to keep your sex life limited to the bedroom. He really doesn’t want you to be the subject of gossip, even if he’s hired the household staff himself. He values your privacy, as well as his own, and also loves the ample amount of time being in the bedroom allows. I can also see him going as far as to have new locks made for your shared chambers, and you two would be the only ones with keys. He really doesn’t want to run the risk of your maids or Podrick walking in at an inopportune moment, even if they do knock it’s better safe than sorry.

However, I do think Tyrion also harbours a fantasy about taking you on his desk in the Hand’s Office someday. Whether or not this ever comes to fruition, at least he’s got something pleasant to think about during those long, redundant days.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I wouldn’t say it takes much to get Tyrion going. We all know he’s got an ample sex drive, and isn't the type to pass up a little love no matter the occasion. However for him, there's a couple of things you can do that really, really just push all the right buttons.

The first is watching you mouth off to someone. If you’re shyer or more softer spoken, don’t worry about it. Tyrion will always play your gallant knight and saviour. But if you’re the type of person who speaks their mind? Oh boy. There’s nothing Tyrion loves more than getting to bear witness to you giving some fool a well deserved tongue lashing. He’d watch the whole thing over the rim of his goblet, smirking with a particular twinkle in his eye.

When he first heard you call Joffery a “craven little pissant” he truly thought he might die from delight. Thankfully, that didn’t happen and Tyrion had enough sense to whisk you off before his nephew could react, something about “She’s not herself your majesty, women’s troubles and the like. I’m sure she has no idea what she’s saying”

Of course, instead of the scolding you thought was coming, Tyrion would pull you into the nearest alcove and kiss you until you were breathless. When he’s done he’d announce “You wonderful, mad woman. I’ve been wanting to do that since the little shit could talk, but PLEASE pick your fights more carefully or we’ll end up in matching gallows.”

After that, you’d have to see sense, at least where Joffrey is concerned. Anyone else though? Totally fair game, especially if they insult Tyrion. You’ve told off his sister more than once and even gone up against Tywin on his behalf. Naturally, the two of them would complain to Tyrion about “making his wife mind” but to that Tyrion would respond “I told her not to start fights, but she is more than welcome to finish them” most likely while he’s pulling you towards your bedchamber to finish things his own way lol The two of you are the snarkiest, sassiest couple in all of King’s Landing and mutual bitching is your favourite couple’s activity.

On the other side of the coin, being particularly soft or compassionate is the other way to get Tyrion’s attention. It doesn’t just have to be with him either. If you’re particularly gentle with Tommen and Myrcella or with any animal you come across or the small folk in the city, Tyrion is just going to melt. He can hardly believe he’s found someone who’s genuinely good hearted in this rotting shithole, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t grateful for you either. When he sees you being particularly sweet, his motivations are less “I am so turned on right now let me have you” and more “I love you so much, you are literal sunshine please let me show you how much you mean to me”

More than once, you’ve glanced up while playing with Myrcella and Tommen to find Tyrion watching you with an expression on his face you can’t quite read. If you’ve already given him a couple children, odds are tonight you’ll conceive another one. If you haven’t yet, your first is most likely coming along nine months after this.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Tyrion’s pretty adventurous but even there’s a couple things he’s going to have boundaries about.

The first of these is any kind of impact play. If this is after what happened with Ros (Alayaya in the books) and Sansa’s own beating, Tyrion couldn’t bring himself to do it even with your consent. Hurting you would bring back too many unpleasant memories, and the world already thinks the worst of him. The implication that he beats his wife on top of everything else would be too much.

With that in mind, consensual non-consent is off the table, as well as any kind of sharing. The trauma about Tysha runs too deeply for that. Tyrion also is too insecure to share you with anyone else, even if he tries to play it off. Deep down, a part of him worries you’ll leave him for a better, taller man, so why run the risk by letting one into your bed?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Now, Tyrion isn’t the type to pass up getting his cock sucked but honestly? He prefers going down on you.

If the two of you are married and you were a virgin, Tyrion isn’t going to expect you to go down on him, especially if you’re of high birth. Unfortunately, in Westeros that act is usually associated with brothel girls and Tyrion wouldn’t want to demean you. But if you’re still offering after an extended period of time? Well, who’s he to say no when you ask so nicely.

Tyrion would be really sweet with you while you’re going down on him though. The last thing he wants is to make you feel pressured or like he’s manhandling you too much. Expect a lot of praise, him stroking your hair and face and begging you to look up at him so he can see your beautiful eyes. Use that last one with caution though because it’ll have him cumming in seconds.

When it’s your turn, Tyrion’s going to show just as much enthusiasm. This man eats pussy like it’s his goddamn job, and he will take it as a personal failure if you don’t have at least three orgasms while he’s down there. The only thing he loves more than a nice glass of Arbour red is the taste of you on his lips, if they could make that in a vintage he’d literally drink himself to death.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

So for Tyrion, this really depends on his partner and what they want because he can get what he needs from both.

I’ve mentioned this a couple times, but if you’re a virgin he’s going to go like molasses slow. I’m talking like hours of foreplay, getting you used to his mouth and fingers, making you’re absolutely relaxed and stretched out comfortably before he even thinks of introducing his cock into the mix.

If this isn’t your first rodeo though and you want something hard, fast, and even a little disrespectful? Tyrion’s happy to provide, he’s a man of many talents after all.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Again, Tyrion is versatile. Does he prefer to have these long extended love making sessions that go on for hours? Of course, especially if it’s in a romantic relationship. He wants that intimacy and time with you.

However, there are going to be some weeks where everyone is up his ass, Joffrey has managed to squander what little money the crown has again, some minor lords are picking fights over the tiniest slights imaginable, and the Black Brothers are asking him to produce more men from thin air to fill their ranks. All in a day’s work for Tyrion.

When things get like this, clearly he’s going to be super busy and strung out. So if all you have time for is a quick romp before bed or before he leaves in the morning? Not his favourite but he’d rather have that than nothing at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Tyrion’s down for a little risk now and again. It keeps things fresh and exciting for the two of you. Just so long as it doesn’t cross any of the boundaries set in N, he’ll try anything almost once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Honestly? If you can keep up, Tyrion’s willing to go all night. His years of practice have given him an almost god like stamina, if you can outpace him he’s going to be pleasantly surprised because it hasn’t happened yet.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

So again, I don’t think toys are really a “thing” in Westeros, but someone with such a “diverse” palate as Tyrion will probably have a couple of surprises. However, this will probably be more kink type gear like blindfolds, ropes and maybe a gag somewhere. If you wanna use these things on yourself or him, he’s more than happy to oblige, but won’t be upset if you’re not interested either. He just wants you to be happy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease

Oh gods. Bring your patience and self control because this man is a MENACE.

Nowhere is safe from him either. The two of you could be in the fricking SEPT and he’d slip a note into your hymnal detailing all the filthy things he wants to do with you. Meanwhile he’s got his eye on the septon and the most placid expression, like he didn’t just commit you both to the Seven Hells via sacrilege He’s also not above getting handsy with you under the table while you’re having a meal with his family or in court. Like I said, nowhere is safe.

Revenge would be easy enough to get though. Just whisper something spicy in his ear and grab his trouser lacings right before he’s for a Small Council meeting. He’s going to be hot, bothered and ready to boil over for the next few hours and unable to focus on anything except the highlight reel his mind is playing of you. You’ll absolutely pay for it when he comes back to your rooms that night, but it’s also completely worth it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I'd say Tyrion makes about the average amount of noise for any man, you get moans and grunts, which get louder when he cums. The one thing that kind of stands out about him is he's maybe a little bit more talkative? Expect lots of dirty talk, compliments and cursing. The only way to truly shut him up is to put his mouth between your legs or on your tits lol.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think it's probably because Kings Landing as a city reeks so goddamn bad, but I can see Tyrion having a thing about you wearing perfume? It would most likely start on your wedding night when a nice perfume is tradition along with the wedding silks, and Tyrion enjoys the scent on your skin so much he makes it a habit to keep adding to your collection. You'd probably own quite a few exotic and rare bottles after you've been together a few years, Tyrion would have most likely sought them out from merchants from the Free Cities and the Summer Isles. Wearing them can have like an almost pheromone type effect on him, especially if they're scents you've worn exclusively during sex.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

So, I'm just going to go off how Tyrion's cock is described in the books. I figure he's about average size for most men, around 5 inches, so not as small as everyone likes to speculate about. Girth wise I wouldn't say he's too big, maybe a smidge wider than most but not enough that it's going to cause you pain. The most notable thing about his cock is the head, which darkens a fair bit in colour when he's hard and is exceptionally sensitive. He's also uncut bc I can't really see that being a thing in Westeros again unless you travel out to the Free Cities or Dorne.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

How high you got? :P

Honestly, we know Tyrion is always down to clown. All you need to do is give your consent and he's raring to go. He's also a grown man, however, and has absolutely immaculate self control. Don't ever expect him to pressure or try and manipulate you into fulfilling his needs, your comfort comes first and foremost. He'll make do with his hand if needs must and won't make you feel the least bit guilty about it either.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

In the books/show, it's stated that Tyrion is pretty much an insomniac (same bro) so when you first get together it's pretty rare that he sleeps after sex. Instead, you can expect him to stay awake and cuddle you until you're asleep, and then he'll either read until dawn or shuffle off to his office to get some work done.

It's only when you start making an active effort to help him sleep that he'll be able to doze off next to you. The surefire way to get him to rest is by having his head on your chest or your lap and stroking his hair while you sing to him. It doesn't matter what, lullabies, ballads, tavern songs, he just likes the sound of your voice and the warmth of your skin against his.

He wouldn't tell you this, but Tysha would do the same thing for him back when she was around. He always managed to sleep fine for her, it was only after she left his life that his insomnia began. Maybe now that you're in his life, he can finally be well rested again.

#easter askbox event #tyrion x reader #tyrion x you #tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister imagine #big smut little smut smut that climbs on rocks

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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

Text

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

The intro went on for much longer than I meant it to. I’m not sorry. It’s adorable. References made to touch-starved with Hunter and Wrecker.

Febuwhump Day 1 Part 4

Touch-Starved – Tech - Left alone on the Marauder while the others retrieve a replacement part, Doc and Tech discuss the local culture while Tech works on mechanical upgrades. The unfortunate side effects of his poor posture prompts Doc to step in with a helping hand.

Warnings: Discussion of cultural/religious differences, joking reference to reverse harem, touch aversion, medical language

WC: 3,452

The petulant frown pulling at my lips as I sprawled upside down in the copilot’s seat, heels tapping absently at the headrest was, admittedly, a childish attempt to distract Tech from the busywork he’d become absorbed in under the control panel, but the others had been gone for several hours, and weren’t likely to return for several more. The Marauder had taken just enough damage to ground her several clicks from the nearest town. I wanted to go, tried vainly to trap Hunter in an argument that I could draw out long enough to make him cave simply for the sake of shutting me up, but he was adamant about this planet’s “outdated beliefs” disagreeing with “one woman arriving with four men.”

“What? They’d take one look at us and assume I’d landed myself a harem? I can name more than a few places that would praise me for that.” I’d shot back.

“Well, this one would try to cleanse you.” He retorted, “With fire.” Lips bunching against my reluctant defeat, I’d finally let out a heavy breath.

“Actually, their ritual for purification uses exactly fifteen drops of molten lead: one drop for each deity said to control what they’ve deemed to be the darkest of sentient emotions.” Tech explained without looking up from the pile of wires and circuits carefully spread across his bed.

“Fifteen? Kriff, maybe I don’t want to go. If that’s the punishment for looking a little promiscuous, I’d probably wind up imprisoned just from running my mouth at the wrong person.”

“Technically, your appearance wouldn’t be the problem, but the implication of even the possibility for intercourse without the intent to reproduce given you’ve been in the unsupervised company of the opposite sex for so long.” Brows furrowing over a deadpan glare, I turned back to Hunter.

“Please hurry. I want off this planet.” Despite how his lips tensed, Hunter’s shoulders shook with a poorly restrained laughter.

“Yes, ma’am.” I didn’t miss the teasing lilt in his voice as he slipped his helmet on and trotted down the ramp to join the others.

“Fifteen.” I muttered, turning to lean absently against his mattress. “What are the other ‘darkest sentient emotions’?” I asked, head tilting back toward him. He’d appeared honestly taken aback at first, looking at me as though expecting to find some teasing retort sitting atop smirking lips, but I merely waited. His response was long-winded, but understandably so. How could it not be with so many aspects of the native’s beliefs.

“Wait-wait-wait; why?! They’re flowers!” I’d interrupted him once again, aghast at some of the intricacies of their laws.

“To them, flowers represent the temporary nature of life. Harvesting one before it has been fertilized to produce the following generation of plants is believed to illustrate subconscious desires to murder other life forms prior to child-rearing age.” By then, I’d aimlessly shifted until I’d found myself laying at the foot of his bed, legs tucked into my chest as my feet pressed against the panel stretching overhead, and the mess of components he’d been fiddling with had steadily morphed into a cohesive device.

“What about crops? Without removing undesirable traits from the breeding pool, you can’t maintain pure strains! Most sentient species wouldn’t have even evolved to be sentient without selective breeding!” I was so caught up in the apparent insanity of the concept, that I almost missed the way the corners of his lips had drawn up into a tiny smile.

“Certain leaders are granted express permission in advance for approved actions, as the motivation behind the act is understood to be rooted in logic rather than base emotion.” I let out a loud scoff.

“Do you know how many profound scientific discoveries are rooted in base emotion?! Kriff, some of the greatest mysteries were solved by accident!” My hands flailed wildly in something that wanted to be rage.

“I believe you’re laying on a wire – yes, that’s it; thank you. The residents here tend to value spiritual advancement over scientific advancement.”

“Fine; but how does that grant them permission to punish whoever they happen to come across for acting independent of their values?” I shifted to sweep my hand under my back in search of any additional parts I may have accidentally hidden, neck twisting to still face him.

“Oh, they don’t.” He stated simply, freezing me in place, arm contorted beneath my shoulder blades. “The purification ritual is reserved only for those looking to join their order. Visitors are not held to their religious rules in so long as they don’t negatively impact residents.” The click of my teeth snapping together behind pinched lips quickly dragged his gaze to mine.

“So… Hunter’s excuse…”

“Was valid only if you elected to adopt their religion; yes.” He finished after a heavy pause.

“Ooohhh, that dirty nerf-herder…” I growled, twisting upright to glare uselessly in the direction of that distant city. “Alright… I’ll remember this…”

“I imagine he merely intended to hasten the retrieval of a replacement coolant pump. They are likely to be significantly faster without you.” He offered in a tone that was meant to be comforting, though the truth of his words was anything but, and my expression instantly fell, teeth catching the inside of my lip. He hesitated a moment before purposely setting his creation down.

“My apologies. That… may not have been the best way to state that.” He murmured gently. I let out a slow sigh.

“Can’t help that it’s probably true, though.” I mumbled dismissively. “It’s alright, Tech,” I pressed with a small smile upon seeing the lingering tension in his eyes, “besides, I’m pretty sure I learned more about their culture talking with you than I would have haggling in some afterthought of a parts store.” He was still a moment longer before offering a shy smile of his own, gaze quickly dropping once more as he attached the last panel.

“You finished it!” I beamed, turning fully to face him. He let out a contemplative hum as he turned the device in a final appraisal.

“In a sense, yes; but I still need to install it.” He replied, though his attention was already clearly tuned away from me, and he said nothing more as he slipped from his bed to disappear into the cockpit. That was nearly an hour ago, and I’d hardly been able to get more that a quick description of how his creation was meant to improve their guiding systems for tight maneuvers after following him through the ship.

Initially, he’d crawled under on his back, but had ended on curled over on his knees, back twisting awkwardly to reach far deeper into the tangle of cables. I watched in silence, trying not to voice the worry over how that posture could tweak his back. By the time he’d finally begun preparing the mapwork of connections to be tucked back beneath the panel, however, my worry proved valid, noting a flinch in his movement as he drew his arm back. Sighing, I slipped from the chair to drop down beside him, quietly holding the length of metal in place for him to reattach.

“You tweaked your shoulder.” It wasn’t a question, but the concern in my words also freed them of any accusation. Still, he paused before continuing to the next bolt.

“Only slightly. It will heal before we return to Kamino.” He admitted with that pointed dismissal.

“Not with your posture.” I retorted, glancing toward him with a knowing look. His lips pulled to the side slightly.

“Regardless, it is mild enough not to impact my performance.” Maker, I hated it when they said things like that; as though their comfort was a distant priority in comparison to their effectiveness.

“Tech, if I can help loosen the muscle quickly, it may prevent any lasting weakness or pain.” I pressed, voice softening. He didn’t respond for a long moment, silently moving across the border of the plate to secure it in place.

“I… don’t believe I’d be comfortable with that amount of… contact.” He admitted stiffly, gaze still carefully focused in front of him. The simple vulnerability of admitting those words left me stunned for a moment, and I had to draw a slow, steadying breath before responding, voice dropping nearly to a whisper.

“How about a compromise, then?” I asked, hands folding over my thighs, “Skin-on-skin contact has its benefits, but it’s not necessary. Maybe you could leave your blacks on, and see if that’s okay?” Again, he fell into a tense silence, and I found myself searching for anything that might further lessen his aversion. “Would it help if I told you what I’m going to do before I do it? I bet I can still remember the scientific names of each muscle.” His jaw shifted in a final moment of hesitation, mind churning over my offer.

“Very well.” He chirped, hands already reaching for his armor, and I felt myself swell beneath a deep breath of relief.

“Would you like to stay seated, or go lie down?” I asked, already finding myself slipping into that soothing cadence.

“Seated, please.” Even his voice sounded stiff, speaking with that overly clinical crispness as he methodically stacked his arm pieces overtop of his chest and back plates.

“Alright, I’m going to start bilaterally at the superior ends of the trapezius and move laterally with a slight inferior inflection.” Even my wordy explanation left in that familiar rhythm, and I couldn’t help by find myself enjoying the excuse to flex my memory. His muscles went painful taut as my hands rested over the swell of muscle connecting near the top of his neck, but he didn’t pull away, allowing my touch to trail down toward his shoulders.

“I’m going to repeat that same motion a few times.” I told him, already releasing him to reach for his neck once more. He sat just as tense after the third stroke as the first, though I noticed him automatically following the breathing technique I’d used for Hunter and Wrecker. Unless he began to relax, pressing harder into the strained muscle would only create more strain. “I’m going to elongate my movement down the inferior aspect of the trapezius.” He gave no response, merely allowed my touch to drag down to the base of his ribcage.

It had only been a few weeks since I’d managed to pull enough strings to increase their ration allowance, but I could already feel a difference. Assuming Tech had, indeed, been as malnourished as Hunter, then even the thin layer of fat overlaying his deceptively powerful physique was a massive improvement.

“6… 7… 8…” The count sighed absently over my lips as my hands followed the ridge of tissue lining his spine. Instead of lifting my hands away, I let my touch merely soften as I moved back to his neck, testing if he’d respond better to constant contact instead. “I’m going to start moving over the infraspinatus and latissimus dorsi muscles.” Still, he offered no response, focusing carefully on maintaining perfect stillness as my hands spread over his shoulder blades before shifting down his ribs. “4… 3…” I counted aloud, edge of my palms rolling up the midline of his back.

The muscles of his jaw continued to work ceaselessly, teeth grinding as his eyes stared blindly forward. He just wasn’t responding, body too distracted by the unfamiliar touch that he couldn’t relax into it. I had to get him out of his head, distract him long enough to give him a chance to realize there was no danger here.

“Tech, I’d like you to pick up your datapad, please.” I whispered, hands slowly coming to a stop atop his shoulder blades. Confusion pulled his expression further into a frown, but he kept himself from glancing back at me.

“Massage therapy is more effective if the subject is stationary.” He stated almost more to himself than to me. My thumb crept lightly over his back in a subtle reminder of my presence.

“It’s alright.” The soft murmur left me in a quiet promise, “Go ahead.” His arm tensed for a half beat before relenting, quickly retrieving the small device from near the pile of discarded armor. Instantly, the muscle beneath my hands relaxed, if only slightly. His head tilted down, attention drifting readily to the bright light. The tap of his fingers over the screen quickly developed its own rhythm, and, slowly, I pressed my own fingers firmly against him, dragging up toward him neck.

“Out for 1… 2…” His shoulders began to fall. “Rhomboideus minor,” I pushed my thumb into the tight gap between the top of his shoulder blade and his spine, using a subtle sweeping motion to begin working the tangle of knots. “And rhomboideus major. In for 5… 4…” With each small motion, I crept lower. A tiny sound caught in his throat, and his entire body went taut. “2… 1…” His breathing hitched, belatedly forcing himself back into that cadence. “Out 1…” Within seconds, another muffled grunt escaped him as I continued focusing on that mess of tweaked muscle. “7… 8… and in for 5…”

As though I’d granted him some unspoken permission, little groans began to emphasize nearly every exhale, his breath catching frequently beneath that lovely hurt that promised the release of a tension he’d suffered under for too long.

“Trapezius.” I started back up toward his neck, and he shifted slightly.

“Can… would you mind just… I rather enjoy the counting.” It was a close to a mumble as I think he’d ever spoken absent some riveting text distracting him, but, at that moment, he wasn’t reading. He wasn’t tinkering away at some project or studying some new fascinating subject. His datapad lay forgot between hands that had long since gone limp, head hanging toward his chest as he let himself melt beneath my hands.

“I can do that.” I promised in a secreted whisper, “I enjoy the counting, too… Breathe in for 5… 4…” As though I’d been granted some greater freedom, I let my hands work thoughtlessly, memorizing the valleys of muscle gently shifting beneath each guided breath, “and out for 1… 2…” easing away lingering knots of tension, “4… 3…” stretching muscles held taut for too long, “8… In… 5… 4…” delighting in how the man steadily fell deeper into that empty trance with each sweep of my hands and quiet count, until, with a suddenness that caught me by surprise, he fell against me with complete abandon, back lying flushing against my chest as his head lolled toward his shoulder.

My hands automatically darted to his arms to steady him, pausing for a long second as his torso swelled with a deep, blissful breath. Oh. Catching my lips sharply between my teeth, I took a moment to steady myself. I’d expected Wrecker to fall asleep, and giving Hunter enough relief to allow him to sleep had been the intent, but Tech… And, Maker, he was really out. I could see his fingers flutter with occasional twitches.

Torn, I glanced around us. The seat to the pilot’s chair was just behind me. I’d have to try to lay him down on his side if I wanted to ease out from beneath him, but I didn’t have enough leverage to ensure a slow decent, and I was loath to risk waking him.

The hiss of the ramp lowering brought with it a flare of hope.

“Shh.” I called quietly over my shoulder, certain Hunter would be able to hear me. A delay preceding the quiet approach of a single set of footsteps before a nearly silent shuffle down the ladder, and I craned my head back to see what, to anyone else, would be the frightening visage of a fully armored commando just visible down the lane between the dark red chairs. His helmet tilted slightly, studying us a moment before his shoulders tensed.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” I mouthed, but, already I could see his torso shake with silent laughter. My lips twisted into a snarl. His gaze dropped for a moment before starting forward. He didn’t remove that emotionless bucket as he approached, but he didn’t need to for me to picture the teasing smirk hidden beneath it. Though Tech was notably taller, I held no doubt that his brother was strong enough to move him into the pilot’s seat without waking him.

Hunter reached down as though to gently ease the pilot forward, but instead shifted to merely slip his goggles free. Shocked betrayal tore across my face as the Sergeant silently set them down atop the rest of Tech’s gear and turned back down the narrow ally.

“Hunter!” His name only just curled through gritted teeth, but he’d already begun his ascent up the ladder. Tech still lay utter oblivious against me, and I couldn’t help but let out a fond sigh, thumbs absently shifting against that sleek black fabric. A soft thud sounded just behind me, and I had to stifle a groan upon glancing back. Crosshair’s helmet peaked under the lip of the portal, a folded blanket and pillow now just within my reach.

Without a word, he merely ducked back up out of sight. Poor Tech was never going to live this down. Still, I found myself reaching behind me, stuffing the pillow between my back and the pilot’s seat before carefully spreading the blanket overtop of us. As I leaned back into the cushion, Tech stretched lavishing to follow, one leg shuffling out just enough to tap against the base of the control console. Letting my arms settle comfortably around his waist, I let out a slow breath. In truth, the man radiated warmth, and, awkward though the position was, it wasn’t so terribly uncomfortable…

Fanart!! - By @mythical-illustrator

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nspwriteups · 1 year

Text

His Idol - Arulmozhi x Vanathi fic

A/N: my Vanathi spends a lot of time in her dreamworld and my Arulmozhi is a student at Vanthiyathevan's school of flirting😂

@thatacademic got me so excited I just had to write and post this as soon as got the idea

Inspired from 'Temple' fic by @rang-lo🖤

Everyone gathered at the sanctum of the Durgai temple were immersed in thoughts of devotion to Goddess Kali, welfare of the kingdom or praying for their loved ones. Well, everyone except Vanathi. Try as she might,she was not able to concentrate on praying to Kali Amma for not more than a few minutes. How can she when she is painfully aware of the presence of her yaanai paagan right behind her - the person who has stolen her heart and her mind and is refusing to give it back.She was not able to take her eyes off him when they were walking side by side on the streets greeting the people, when they were travelling on the elephant and certainly not now when they are standing so close that she was sure if she were to move he would notice.

But will he? He only smiled at her when they locked eyes at earlier times, he was pretty much oblivious to her gazing at him at other times. As much as he was oblivious to Kundavai's other companions desperately trying to seek his attention. Surely he would be praying to Kali Amma now, with his eyes closed and wouldn't even notice her looking at him one more time?

Emboldened by her own convictions, Vanathi scanned the crowd, majority of them had their eyes closed, others had their gaze trained upon the Goddess statue, lips silently chanting prayers.The pandit was loudly chanting hymns and doing aarti. Slowly she turned her head, very slightly that it cannot even be called a movement. Her eyes first landed on her Ilavarase's elbows, slowly trailing up to see his forearms, golden bangles, palms folded together, his face, his....eyes...opened and focused....on her.

This was the least she expected to happen so she found it almost impossible to break eye contact with him. He looked at her fondly with a small smile etched on his lips. She found herself returning the smile and slowly turned back, praying for the crowd to disperse already so she can run back to her chambers and melt in embarrassment.

The aarti was completed and now the pandit was handing out the prasad. Still, Vanathi could feel a pair of eyes at her back and looking back she wondered how long he had been gazing at her.

"Ponniyin Selvare, what are you doing?" She couldn't help but whisper

"Looking at my idol" he whispered back

"But the idol of Kali is over there"

"My idol is right here, next to me"

Her eyes widened at the remark, glancing at her yaanai paagan who was now grinning at her. Such honeyed words..where did he learn to talk like that?

"Ilavarase, when did you become such a tease?"

He tried to suppress his laughter, disguising it as a cough " You can thank Vanthiyathevan for it"

Of course, she should have guessed it. The Vana Clan prince and the Chola prince has been thick as thieves ever since their first meeting, so of course Vanthiyathevan would impart his expert knowledge to his newfound friend.

They remained quiet for some time.

"Vanathi" her heart skipped a beat when she heard her given name being uttered with so much care. " Can we meet after this? In the garden? Preferably without my Akka hovering over us and analysing our each word and reaction?"

She took a sharp intake of breath. A secret rendezvous? Behind Akka's back? How intriguing!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her uyir thozi glancing at their direction. It was like Kundavai could sense they were talking about her. How was she going to evade her smart Akka? What would distract her? Or better yet who?

Vallavaraiyan Vanthiyathevan. Yes, who else is more qualified to distract her Akka than the charming and loyal prince who has already won Kundavai's heart with his " uyir ungalodayathu Devi" .

'Kamsa Mama' Vanathi thought 'You have to do one more favour for this Maya Kannan'

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@vibishalakshman @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai @willkatfanfromasia. @thegleamingmoon @deafeningflowercat @thelekhikawrites @dumdaradumdaradum @whippersnappersbookworm @yehsahihai @theperfectidiot20 @itsfookingloosah Would love to hear your opinions 🥰

#ponniyin selvan #aditha karikalan #vanathi #arulmozhi #kundavai #ponniyin selvan 2 #nandini #vanthiyathevan #arulmozhi varman #Vanmozhi

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wishitweresummer · 5 months

Text

Brat

Sitting Pretty (Chapter Five)

Word count: 950

George’s panicked screech echoed through the house.

“That’s not fair!! Sapnap!!!”, he cried out, cackling wildly. He bucked and thrashed, the tickling against his ribcage was unbearable. It was his worst spot.

Dream slipped his phone in his pocket and grinned at his two boyfriends from the doorway; they were both on the floor of the living room. The little ding for his notifications kept going off, but George’s laughter was much sweeter. Sapnap was on top of him with his hands shoved inside his hoodie. It sounded like he was killing him, really. Sapnap’s extra fingers were able to get more of George’s ribs at a time, and the poor cat-hybrid could never stand it. Dream’s tail thumped softly against the wall as he watched George’s cheeks burn brighter.

“Help me! He’s…cheating!”.

“What did you do George?”, Dream asked, amused.

“Nothing!”. Sapnap scoffed.

“Oh, nothing huh?”, he asked with a dangerous smirk. George bucked and screamed at whatever Sapnap’s devious fingers did underneath the hoodie.

“Stop!!!”, he wailed with laughter. His little hands flapped uselessly against the lumps in his hoodie. “Please!!!”. George’s feet pattered against the floor frantically.

“You love how good I can get your little ribbies, huh?”, Sapnap leaned in a little closer. George could only shake his head ‘no’, completely hysterical with laughter. His hands grabbed frantically at Sapnap’s arms, but he couldn’t get the hands away from his poor ribcage.

Sapnap grinned up at Dream, moving both his hands over to one side under the hoodie.

“Look, I can get every single rib like this.”. George convulsed like he was electrocuted and his helpless cackling raised multiple octaves. “Twelve ticklish ribs and I’m tickling between… Every! Single! One!”. George wheezed and fell silent for a few seconds, then screamed like he was being murdered. Tears rolled down his face as he shoved at Sapnap’s chest uselessly.

“Oh wow. So he has twelve ribs on that side and you have twelve fingers. Man, he’s so cute like this.”, Dream said fondly, approaching them and sitting by George’s head.

“The cutest.”. They cheesed at each other over the squirmy mess.

“Get off…my ribs!!!”, he cried, shaking his head.

Dream shook his head and slipped his hand into his pocket for a moment to silence his phone. The small dings were distracting him too much.

“I don’t know what’s going on on Twitter, but my phones been blowing up for the past hour. A little nervous to check it.”. George laughed even harder. Dream smiled at them, but felt a dumb little pang in his chest at how the two seemed to ignore his worries. They knew how bad Twitter drama stressed him out.

“Shut up George, you little bitch. You’re going to regret that.”, Sapnap growled and pulled the hoodie up to expose the ticklish ribs to the air.

“No!!”, he shoved uselessly at Sapnap’s chest, but wasn’t able to stop him from ducking down and attacking his ribs with nibbles. He screeched loudly, falling quickly into squeaky and hysterical laughter. He pounded at Sapnap’s back desperately, but the panda-hybrid was ruthless.

Twelve evil fingers squeezed at George’s bare sides while nibbles were given across the ticklish bones of his ribcage. Dream’s eyes widened at the brutal sight. George quickly fell into silent laughter, just flailing helplessly with his burning red cheeks.

“Wow…you’re going to kill him Sap. What happened?”.

“Help!”, was barely rasped out.

George reached up and grabbed Dream’s sleeve, but quickly squealing and jerking it back roughly when one of Sapnap’s fingers quickly snuck into his open armpit.

“Whoa!”, Dream laughed as he leaned in closer.

“Help me!!”.

“What did you do?”. But, the boy only shrieked when Sapnap switched to nibble the other side of his ribcage.

“Stop!!”, he cried. “I’m sorry!! Okay, I’m sorry!!! I’m sorry!! Please!!”.

Sapnap suddenly pulled back and stood up. George curled into a ball, absolutely beside himself with breathless giggles.

“You’re going to tweet out that it was you.”, he said with a point of his finger.

“Okay!!”.

“Oh, huh? Wait, what happened?”, Dream asked with a whine. “What’s going on!!”. George groaned and curled up more. “Tell me or you’re getting more tickles.”.

“No! Okay okay!”, George struggled through his flurry of panicked giggles, “I just liked some weird fanart on Sapnap’s Twitter account! He’s being such a baby about it!”.

“Oh!”, Dream sat up and pulled his phone free from his pocket. That’s why his phone has been going nuts!

Dream looked up again when George shrieked.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!!!”. He squealed and laughed, nearly upside down with how high Sapnap was lifting his foot. “Lemme go!!”, he whined through his giddy laughter.

“Bad kitty!! You’re really looking for trouble, huh?”.

“I’m not!!”. He yelped, a few squeezes to his thigh sending him back into hysterics. “No!!!”, he wailed with laughter.

Dream giggled and let the chaotic laughter fade into the background as he pulled up Twitter and scrolled through his feed to find what George had liked to get everyone so riled up.

“Wow…”, he murmured. It was a bunch of different fanart of Sapnap being hopelessly in love with George. Brushing his tail, kissing his shoes, and just staring at him all lovesick.

The fans actually had no idea they were all dating yet, but had plenty of theories. “Oh Georgie. Not even one dnf art?”.

“Dnf is shit!”, he yelled, filled to the brim with giggles from Sapnap dragging him around by his ankle.

“Oh you’re asking for it now!.”.

“Get him, Dream!”.

George’s uncontrollable laughter and screams filled the house periodically for the rest of the night as Dream and Sapnap put the kitty in his place.

(Art by @kazenomegaminowanpisu )

#sitting pretty #lee!georgenotfound #ler!sapnap #dream team tickle #dnn tickle #snf tickle #mcyt tickle

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princessozera · 11 months

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"Would you mind being a nude model for me?" (Mammon)

No smut or other shenanigans! MC is just a very tired art student who needs some anatomy practice.

>Implied relationship

Word Count: 709

GN MC (They/Them, 3rd ppov)

Mammon is quick to accept and also agrees to the time that MC chooses for them to meet up in his room. However, the anxiety sets in as soon as MC walks away to their own room for the night.

He’s a famous model! He’s been posing nude for longer than MC’s been alive, so really there shouldn’t be any reason for him to be nervous. This is Mammon’s area of expertise, companies pay him millions for the honor of using his image. This image wasn’t even going to be seen by anyone other than him and MC.

Yet, in the week leading up to the modeling session, Mammon began tagging along to Beel’s nightly workout and holding himself to standards even stricter than the ones given to him by the modeling agency. There were no snack runs or midnight rendezvous for some hell’s noodles. He didn’t even steal one of Asmo’s cupcakes, and ignored everyone’s complaints about him only offering protein and variety salads on his cooking day.

When MC shows up at Mammon’s door on saturday, they immediately notice the pull of his muscles and how prominent his veins were, despite being relaxed. They drop their sketchbook on the pool table and walk out, only to come back a few minutes later with a backpack full of snacks and arms full of water bottles. Ignoring every complaint about his endurance and “industry standards”, MC refused to even pick up their pencil until Mammon drank a full water bottle and ate a cup of his favorite ramen noodles. Once he’s properly hydrated and looking healthier, they talk about what kind of pose he should take, MC ‘conveniently’ being turned around as Mammon strips down.

Mammon takes his bedsheets and loosely drapes them around himself, in a crude mimic of his angel form. He poses across from one of the spotlights hanging over his bed, hoping the light could give a cool halo effect. While MC was busy getting set up, he also made sure to stick his butt out a little bit, to make it look good.

For all of his years working as a model, it didn’t do much to prepare him to be an art model. Mammon is soon grateful he chose a spot near the pool table so he could lean back on it, but no matter how hard MC tries to distract him, it isn’t long before Mammon starts to tap his foot or try to fix his hair. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, or having been explicitly told not to move, but he was fighting the urge to get any kind of movement- swaying, finger tapping, foot wiggling, fidgeting, flexing. Anything he can get away with. So MC comes up with a compromise- they finish his face first, so he’s free to talk and laugh as much as he wants. He takes full advantage of this by also trying to get MC to laugh, making funny faces and impressions of his brothers every time they looked up at him.

MC can’t help but laugh and starts to find it harder to focus, sketchbook half forgotten in their hands. It comes to the point that MC has to whip out their phone and snap a few quick photos before they both double over in laughter, all focus broken. Since they’ve already lost focus, they take this time to have a proper break. Mammon takes MC’s sketchbook and uses a few empty pages to doodle nonsense while MC stretches their hands and eats something.

The afternoon’s plans are tossed aside- as much as Mammon loves MC’s undivided attention, he can’t keep still. With his endless charisma, he distracts MC from ever starting the drawing again, and they instead decide to go out on an impromptu date to Madame Scream’s before heading over to an arcade. Although the sketch remained unfinished, MC hadn’t forgotten about it. And after a rough day at work and fighting with Lucifer again, Mammon would find it slipped under his door. Completed and making him look better than any camera ever has, with words of comfort and love scribbled on the back, the drawing would cause MC to be hunted down by a teary eyed demon, demanding a hug.

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

((Lucifer)) ((Levi))

#obey me mammon #om mammon #omswd

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weclassybouquetfun · 6 months

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Everyone Gets Lost in SALTBURN.

Including me, as I've gloried in this film three times -enduring the annoying Academy aspect ratio format (writer/director/filmmaking genius Emerald Fennell explained this ratio was used to accommadate the squareness of the estate and to enhance close-ups).

I love films that are bold and audacious; ones that are polarizing and divisive because that means it has touched the audience - for good or for bad - they have been given food for thought. Now, you may savour it, or vomit it out but you will wolf it down. I don't see how anyone could look at this film and be bored.

TL;DR

WARNING: MORE SPOILERS THAN ROOMS IN SALTBURN

THE GOOD

EVERYTHING. Barry Keoghan owns every single frame of this film. He gets to use so many colours in his acting palette and while I don't have faith in the Academy, I hope that they nominate him at least.

Same goes for Archie Madekwe as Farleigh. He is the Tom Wambsgans of SALTBURN (complimentary). He's a hanger-on who hates the other hanger-on. Fennell could have just written him as one note - just nasty and cruel bully, but he had more dimensions than that.

We get a glimpse at how he hates that his mother has to beg (by way of Farleigh) for financial support. He could have just been someone who held the attitude of, "I've got mine, now get yours", but it bothers him that his mother is struggling. He hates that he lives a pampered life while the footmen are ignored. I especially love how he has no shame over being taken care of by the Cattons. Kicked out of 3 schools for blowing teachers? Oh, well. Sir James' connections will get him somewhere.

He sets up Oliver to karaoke to The Pet Shop Boys' "Rent" and when Oliver remarks, "Felix, I think this song is yours too." (a line that never failed to pull a reaction from me), Felix doesn't tuck his tail between his legs. He's not embarrased. No, he gladly takes the mic.

Then there is Rosamund Pike who is never not fantastic in everything. Elspeth is so droll, so cutting, yet so loveable.

Pike tosses out these lines that carry such humour in it, effortlessy. Like Farleigh, Elspeth is someone you probably should dislike - not batting an eye when discussing Pamela's death, judgmental, gossipy - but she, like Sir James are charming. Their obliviousness comes across as a mere quirk in their personality versus a deal-breaker.

The humour. This movie is so funny. What I appreciated though is that where most directors would put laughs to diffuse the preceeding scene, Fennell plays it straight. You are sat there without any quip or hammy performance to distract from Oliver drinking Felix's cummy bathwater and lapping the drain for good measure.

Or from Oliver and Venetia's menstrual blood swapping. Or grief stricken Oliver humping Felix's grave. The laughter, however comes from the audience. I've seen it three times so I've experienced three different audience reactions and I was surprised by how much people laughed (and gasped. Or closed their eyes), when to me it was serious bizness.

The first screening I attended had a Q&A with the film's composer, Anthony Willis, and he said that when he does panels with Emerald she always apologies to the audience for the pervisity. Why apologize, Emerald?! Talk your talk!

The only scene I could think of where humour was added to diffuse a scene was when Oliver kills Elspeth and he's draped over her trying (and failing) to put her limp arms around him. I think that was necessary so audiences can go into the end scene of him dancing victoriously through his ill-gotten estate.

-When Felix starts clueing in that Oliver lied. The way the unasked question where they pull up to Oliver's home. You can see that he's taken aback by a supposed addict would live there. Then you can tell the realization is falling on him when he spots the lawn being watered because what hardcore adcict would care about maintaining the lawn? But it's the "Gone Fishin'" sign that made him realize he's been duped. Jacob played it so well because it was very understated. Even the entire scene with Oliver's parents (played by Dorothy Atkinson who displayed that same fierce love of her child in "Pennyworth" and Shaun Dooley who's usually playing a tough nut.).

THE BAD

The bad actually has nothing to do with the film itself. It's the perception of Felix that Jacob Elordi and Emerald Fennell holds. They both paint Felix in the most terrible light with Elordi saying Felix is scarier than his character in EUPHORIA and Fennell calling him callous, misogynistic and racist. While I can see where she paints him as such in the film (leaving Oliver to walk his bike back to campus, not talking to the girl/s he's going to have it off with, just hitting her on the butt and walking off with her, having the very tone-deaf attitude of "not seeing race" by telling Farleigh that he doesn't care that he's "different" from them. But does that make him a truly awful person? Maybe it makes me an apologist because I can see how Felix's life of privilege makes him oblivious on how to treat people.

Fennell says her direction to Elordi was that Felix is a bad kisser and bad at sex because he never has to try; he doesn't need to impress. That makes sense because if one is wealthy and/or conventionally beautifully those things does the heavy lifting and grants you a ton of leeway. Since it works for him, why would he even think he needs to pivot on his behaviour?

I just don't see Felix being a terrible person. He ran interference for Oliver at the bar, he tried to get someone to hook Oliver up with a friend, he ditched the graduation party to support Oliver after the "death" of his father. Duncan was so crushed by Felix's death that he couldn't even close the curtains. Liam or Joshua (the Footmen Farleigh said Felix didn't know the names of) ran off crying after closing the curtains while Felix's body passed by. You would think if he was such a horrid person the staff wouldn't be so affected by his death. He pushed Oliver to stay for dinner at his parents house because he could see how much it meant to them to just have homemade SpagBol and cake.

He may be oblivious and has blindspots, but I'm not buying that he's abominable.

THE REST

-When Venetia is telling the story about the doppleganger, there's a window to the garden behind her and you see a man in a pink shirt walking past, then we cut to the reactions at the table to her story and Felix is wearing a pink shirt. Could it be Felix's doppleganger? A harbinger of his death in the garden? If we take Felix seriously, Saltburn is inhabited by Felix's dead granny. What's one more supernatural occurrence?

-In the credits are images that alludes to what has transpired: we see a spider because Venetia tells Oliver Sir James calls him Spider-Man because she skulks and she says he spins his web, she thinks he's more of a moth (I say he's a kitsune. He's a shapeshifting, beguiling trickster.).

There's a puppet on a string - and that has a dual meaning of the shoebox theatre of Catton family puppets that Felix examines when he first arrives at Saltburn and latter stops in front of at the end when he fixes their memorial rocks atops it; and also how Felix was ultimately a puppet master. There's also an ouroboros and a pair of glasses, which I loved seeing because Oliver sheds his glasses when he gets into Felix's circle. We eventually realize that they were merely an affectation. A costume he adorned to get in order to get into the character as humble, unassuming scholarship kid and shedding him once he was ensconced in Felix's circle.

-I ponder whether Felix truly considered Oliver a friend. Ewan Mitchell's Michael (the other asocial scholarship kid) warned Oliver that Felix would get bored with him. Venetia tells Oliver that she likes him better than the last one. Her words seemed like this is Felix's folly and he does this all the time and Oliver was merely another stray. Then we hear from Felix that a friend he invited had a fling with Venetia and it ruined his friendship. Maybe Felix doesn't get tired of these guys, but they make a mere (perceived) misstep and he ends the friendship. We see it almost happen when Felix yelled at Oliver for making a fuss about the state of his dorm room. Which is why Oliver deployed Operation Dead Dad - he needed a gambit in order to not lose Felix's friendship.

There were a few times where Felix could have ditched Oliver, but he didn't. If he's as flighty as people perceive him to be then I think he would have just made an excuse for Oliver to not attend the fancy dress party. Cancellation wasn't the only option. He could have just pulled an Elspeth and had Sir James make Oliver leave in the dead of the night.

Instead, even after everything he now knows about Oliver's deception, Felix looks crushed after their talk in the maze. His anger from earlier seemingly turned to sadness. Maybe his apparent dejection stemmed from what Oliver said to him: how he was just giving Felix what he wanted; thus (screw you Farleigh, "thus" is a good word) probably making Felix ponder whether everyone around him are playing roles - court jesters trying to appease Felix their king and no relationship he has with anyone outside his family is authentic.

Or maybe Felix had sexual interest in Oliver (because I don't think anyone had a romantic interest in each other in this film; sexual/carnal/opportunistic, yes)? It's powerful when someone obviously wants you. Even if you didn't have any prior interest in that person the, "What if?" or "Why not?" aspect comes into play and you want test how far it could go. Venetia told Oliver, "Felix doesn't like to share his toys. Even the ones he doesn't want to play with anymore." Maybe he just liked male attention, but had no intention of following through. I don't know. Maybe Oliver wasn't the only unreliable narrator.

"I wasn't in love with him."

#saltburn #saltburn spoilers #barry keoghan #rosamund pike #jacob elordi #archie madekwe #emerald fennell #movies #films #long post #movie talk #tldr #felix catton #oliver quick #farleigh start #saltburn movie

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ereana · 9 months

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Alhaitham/Cyno - Hungrily

The last few minutes of a working day always pass slower than all other minutes that make up the passage of time. Alhaitham has never been more keenly aware of this fact than he is today. An uncharacteristic impatience constantly draws his eyes to the clock despite knowing that the hands will have not moved since he last checked.

There is no sound apart from the scratching of his pen against paper as he finishes the last few documents that require his attention. Silence hangs in the air of the Grand Sage’s office but the barest flash of light glinting off an open window from above is more than enough to signal the expected intruder.

“Are needless dramatics part of being the General Mahamatra or do you have something against the lift?” He says idly, keeping his gaze fixed on the ever decreasing stack of files on his desk.

Cyno drops down silently from the rafters.

“I enjoy walking outside and I’d rather not be stuck in an enclosed tube if I can avoid it.” The response comes from beside him but Alhaitham doesn’t look up. If he does then there’s a high chance he’ll be distracted from the last of his work which on most days would be a fine thing, not today.

Cyno continues. “Why? Did I startle you?”

There is not even a shade of an attempt to hide the laughter in his voice. Either that or Alhaitham has just become accustomed to detecting it. The warmth it adds to Cyno’s words, the way his voice deepens, it all contributes to a certain sensation that Alhaitham has long since given up resisting.

He dares to sneak a glance to his side. Cyno stands next to him, gently removing his helmet to place on the desk beside the mountain of finished paperwork Alhaitham has already completed. Even after a full day’s work Cyno looks no different than when Alhaitham had waved to him this morning; fresh-faced, calm and ready for whatever challenges the day would throw at him.

If he didn’t wear it so well Alhaitham would almost feel jealous. His own body aches for rest.

“Please, we’ve worked together for too long now for that trick to still work on me. I’ve given up trying to catch sight of your entrances, you will inevitably appear at some point in some fashion unknown to me so there is no point in wasting my energy on being shocked.” His hand finishes the last flick of ink of his signature. One more to go. “Either you will drop a hint of your arrival as a courtesy or you will step out of the shadows like the spirit the more gullible members of the Akademiya believe you to be.”

Cyno hums reaching for the top paper on the complete stack.

What does it say about them that Alhaitham can picture with perfect clarity the expression on Cyno’s face from the sound alone?

A smile, small but definitely there, curving across his face as he tries to fight down his amusement.

The hint of a frown from his disgruntlement at his inability to startle Alhaitham any more with his stealthy entrances.

It says something but Alhaitham can’t think what because Cyno places a hand on his shoulder and his mind is consumed with the warmth of that simple touch.

“This is it then? You sign this last piece, the day ends and you are no longer the Acting Grand Sage.”

Alhaitham fights to keep his hand from shaking as Cyno’s fingers curl around the meat of his shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but it is impossible to ignore the eagerness of the slight pinch of the nails.

“Correct, I’m finally a free man after this.”

“Still not tempted to stay on? I’m sure Lord Kusanli would be thrilled if you took back your resignation.”

Alhaitham snorts as he starts to sign his last act as the Acting Grand Sage.

“That was the worst joke you’ve ever made.”

Cyno says nothing, his attention focused on the black ink of Alhaitham’s pen.

The clock strikes the hour and Alhaitham finishes writing his signature.

It is done.

After nearly a year he is no longer Acting Grand Sage.

The burden of responsibility doesn’t slip from his shoulders as so much it is thrown to the floor and stomped on with extreme prejudice.

Alhaitham sighs heavily and leans back in the uncomfortable throne he is determined to never sit in again.

It is the only moment of respite Cyno gives him.

A second of pure bliss before Alhaitham is pulled into a searing kiss that sends every one of his nerves sparking.

Cyno is everywhere. He kneels over Alhaitham and holds him in a bruising, possessive grip. The hands that have protected Sumeru for years show no gentleness in the way they tilt Alhaitham’s head up for Cyno to devour his mouth.

Good.

Alhaitham doesn’t want gentle.

It’s been too long. Too much patience demanded of them both. Too hard on their self control.

Duty and regulations were all well and good until he had realized that he wanted to push Cyno against the nearest wall and kiss him senseless. Perhaps more surprising had been the matching desire to simply reach out and entwine their fingers, to feel the scars on Cyno’s hand against his own unblemished skin and discover the story behind each one. Apparently it was inappropriate for the Grand Sage, even if they were temporary, to enter a romantic relationship with the General Mahamatra.

If he’d had the time Alhaitham is sure he could have produced a convincing argument as to why that was an untrue assertion but alas, he had been kept slightly busy with the small task of restructuring the entirety of the Akademiya.

He wraps his arms around Cyno’s waist and yanks him closer, gasping when sharp canines sink into his bottom lip as a reprimand. If it’s meant as punishment it utterly fails as he shudders from the onslaught of sensation.

He should have retired earlier, should have never been swayed by Lord Kusanlit to stay on for longer. They could have been doing this months ago, from the moment words of reciprocated affection had spilled from both of their lips under the light of the stars with tongues loosened after a night of festivity with friends.

Cyno kisses him like he’s trying to devour Alhaitham and Alhaitham is happy to be the victim of his hunger.

It’s the need for air which forces them apart, which leaves them panting heavily as they stare into each other’s eyes smiling like giddy fools.

Alhaitham steals the second kiss himself.

#haino #cytham #alhaitham #cyno #genshin impact #my genshin otp #my writing

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smolghostbot · 10 months

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GT July: Intimidate (2)

Follow the Fog Within

Decided to do two entries today, both snippets from Patchwork Melody: Spring, Patch and Melody's first meeting story. This is the higher-intensity one, very much a whump scene.

Context: Melody has brought Patch inside to help them with a sprained arm, but they both have very different ideas of what's going on.

Word Count: 700 Character bios in my pinned post TWs: Whump scene, POV portrayal of a PTSD flashback and panic attack, which is agitated further due to being handled improperly by somebody nearby. Very explicit hints of past abuse, but technically no specifics are given. Mentions of kidnapping (a genuine misunderstanding). Also some swearing on Mel's part but if that bothers you this is not the blog for you.

========

Finally free, and with their giant captor distracted, Patch makes a break for their backpack. Quickly digging through the front pocket, they pull out their trusty rope hook before slinging the large pack over their good shoulder. Without hesitation, they immediately latch the hook to the table's edge. It's a loose fit, but they only need to get about halfway down before the fall is safe, from the looks of it. Wrapping their legs around the rope to make up for the sprained arm, they begin to descend. It's slower than they would normally go, but the ground is so close, and there's enough clutter that they can easily find a hiding spot as long as-

—

"Hey! What are you- no! You promised!" Melody cried, as she reached out to grab the little runaway, cupping him in her hands.

"Are you mad? That drop could have killed you! And trying to climb with some kind of broken arm, what were you thinking, Patch?"

After she deposited him back on the table, Melody let out a sigh. Her red eyes focused intently on Patch, as if trying to read his mind. "Why are you trying to get away from me so badly? I told you, I mean you no harm. Why don't you get that I'm just trying to help you?"

I'm just trying to help you…

…

I'm just trying to help you…

"... so please, just come onto my hand. I'll take care of you, little guy. I promise."

Hungry, lost, and desperate, they find themself nodding, staring into the deep blue eyes of the figure in front of them, their smile wide. Maybe this human is telling the truth, maybe not all humans are bad… maybe the elders were wrong after all, they think to themself.

As they reach out and touch the hand, it is as if they strike a pact with a demon. They hear that all-too-familiar laughter as everything around them darkens. Memories flood back, stinging their soul like ice cold flames. Their whole body is filled with phantom senses as the combined physical and mental impact of the last two years of their life hits them like a tidal wave. Heat, cold, pressure, pain, sights, sounds, smells, taste. Too bright, too dark, too loud, too quiet, too much, too little. They try to scream, for anybody to help, human, sprite, spirit, anybody.

But as always, no sound comes from them.

…

"Uh… Patch? Are you… okay?"

Mel's scolding tone softened as the little thing in front of her began to tear up, staring off at something. She took in his appearance, trying to figure out what was wrong. He looks… like he's breathing faster, maybe, and seems to be gripping his little backpack as if his life depends on it. Did she scare him? What did she say? Unsure what to do, Melody brought a finger gently to Patch's face, to wipe away the tears.

"Hey, little guy, I'm… it's okay, I'm not mad or anything, I…"

Melody's finger suddenly filled with pain, as she pulled it away in shock.

"OW! What the hell, Patch! Did you just bite me!? What's wrong with you!? Is that how you treat somebody trying to comfort you? You just bite them? What are you, a raccoon!? We both know you're better than that."

Mel has never been the best at reading faces, especially when the face is like, half an inch tall, but the emotion on Patch's face as she yelled seemed to be one of fear. He was staring at her, almost through her, his bright purple eyes completely dilated like a deer in headlights. His ears pulled back, almost flat against the sides of his head, and Mel could tell his breathing had gotten even heavier and more uneven.

"Well? I know you can understand me, Patch, don't pretend like you can't. Why the hell did you just bite me!?"

Melody wasn't sure what kind of answer they expected, but Patch curling into a fetal position and sobbing was definitely not it. As the tiny person silently cried on her table, Melody could only whisper one thing to herself.

"Oh, fuck."

#oc tag: patch #oc tag: mel #patchwork melody #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #gtjuly #g/t fearplay #g/t whump #tiny whump

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here-2suffer · 1 year

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Happy Valentines day yall! Here's a lil treat! A big thank you to @kattramen for helping me with this, I don't think I would've been ready with it today if it wasn't for them. This is based on/inspired by @gniteruirui 's au thing! Hope you all enjoy! Long post warning!

It's February 14th, Valentines day. But instead of being happy and in love like everyone else is, you're devastated and alone.

You look across the daycare to see Sun talking with another daycare assistant, they seem so happy.

Why can't you be happy with this?

...

You know why.

You love him. You love him so much, but he loves them. You want to be happy for them, you really do, but you just can't bring yourself to.

You pretend it's fine though. You're not gonna make them feel bad and ruin their days just because you feel bad, and especially not on Valentines day. So you busy yourself with reorganizing everything on the desk, again. At least it gives you something to distract yourself with.

Except it doesn't. You can hear their talking, so you reach for your headphones to tune them out with music, until you realize you forgot to bring your headphones today.

Lucky you.

"Hey there! Happy cupid day!" Mark suddenly materializes next to you with a pink rose in hand.

"Ack!-" You step back in surprise and almost trip over your own two feet. "B- Jeezus Mark! You've got to stop sneaking up on me like that!" The talking from Sun and the other employee has stopped, but you're too preoccupied with the idiot (affectionate) that jumpscared you.

"Ha, sorry about that." He held out the rose to you. "Here, have this as an apology." He smiled and you took the rose. "It's fake, so you don't have to worry about it dying." He winked. You roll your eyes. "Geez, thanks for being so considerate." He grinned triumphantly. "Yeah, it's my job as your best friend."

You're about to say something back when Sun speaks loudly from the middle of the daycare. "Allllright everybody! It's gift giving time for our favorite love holiday! Get your gifts and gather around!" His voice is as loud and energetic as always. You're heart starts to hurt again hearing his voice, you don't want to go, but you don't really have a choice. Mark grabs your hand and gives it a little squeeze, offering you a comforting smile, one that says "You got this." You smile and squeeze his hand back, then you grab your gifts for everyone and head to middle of the daycare.

It only takes a couple minutes before everyone is gathered here with their gifts, Sun has decided we'll be going around in a circle so no one is left out of gift giving.

The first one up is... the one Sun likes. Of course. They go around and give everyone a Hershey's kiss. The next person goes, giving everyone a drawing they've done, it's really good actually. Things keep going with smiles and laughter until Mark's turn.

He goes around and gives everyone a friendship bracelets, everyone except you, that is. You don't mind, he's made you plenty before, and he's already given you a gift, but everyone else doesn't know that.

There's small gasps and someone chokes on their chocolate kiss. "Hey Mark, I think you forgot about them." Kent points at you. You wave it off. "No, no, Mark didn't forget about me. He already gave me my gift earlier, don't worry about it." Eveyone seemed to relax, there was some sighs of relief. Mark put on a mock offended face. "You guys really think I'd leave my bestest friend in the whole wide world out of this?" A lighthearted joke to get things back to normal and moving again.

Sun gave everyone tiny origami butterflies, and then it was your turn.

You brought roses. You didn't want to give what other people gave out, and you didn't know what else to give, so you brought roses. You gave everyone 2 roses, and everyone had 1 yellow rose, and whatever other color depending on how you felt towards them.

That was until you got to Sun, the last one you needed to give roses to. You gave him one blue rose, unable to meet his gaze as you handed it to him. "Sorry Sun, guess I miscounted, I only have enough to give you one."

His usual happy smile faltered a little, but he gingerly took the rose. "It's a-okay! Roses are very popular around this time of year, I totally understand if they ran out of roses for you!" You put on your best smile and walked back to Mark, never once meeting Sun's gaze. He kept looking to see if you would look back, to see if you cared, but you didn't look back. He was a little hurt that he was the only one who got one rose, but he knew that there were probably no more roses at the stores you went to. At least that's what he wanted to believe.

Everyone went back to doing their own thing when it was finished. Sun started talking with same person again (seriously, does he ever talk to anyone else?), and you went back to the security desk with Mark.

...

Mark takes your hand in his own. "Listen, I know you're trying to get over him, but did you really have to do that?" He's whispering, making sure no one else eavesdrops on your conversation. You sigh. "I... No, but I can't help it. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but for some reason I don't feel like I can just do nothing but avoid him, I felt like I needed to do something else to make me feel better."

"Well, do you feel better?" He gave your hand a little squeeze, he never judged you or thought you cruel for the things you did, he always understood. "...No. I think I might feel worse.." You felt the tears coming to your eyes and your voiced cracked, you were never good with your emotions.

He pulled you into a hug. "It'll be okay."

Sun watched from across the daycare as you hugged him back, he was beginning to wonder if he should come and ask what was wrong. He hated seeing you upset, he wanted to comfort you.

"But he didn't really seem to care anyway." Right. He was in a conversation with someone, it would be rude to leave. So he stayed with this special person, and you stayed with Mark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost everyone was gone now, even Sun's best friend. It was only you, Kent, and someone else who's name you forgot (you didn't talk to them anyway). The lights are off so you didn't have to worry about avoiding Sun to save your heart, but you did have to worry about Moon. He's been talking to you more than usual lately.

He's on top of the tallest play structure, directly above your coworker like a cat ready to pounce an unsuspecting victim, but he never makes the move to do so. But the person has to clock out now, so they do. Moon stays on the play structure, though now he's looking directly at you.

You look around, Kent is across the daycare, he's too preoccupied with his tasks and music to notice if anything happens to you. That usually wouldn't be a good thing, but it is today.

You wave at Moon with a smile, signaling for him to come over. He tilts his head, he doesn't do anything but stay still. You think he might not come, but then his wire comes down and connects to the latch on his back and he starts swimming in the air towards you.

Once he's like 5 feet away from you, he stops swimming and just stays there, he doesn't even go back on the ground. You put your bag on the table and reach inside, he keeps looking between you and your bag. You smile and pull out 2 roses, one blue and one orange. His eyes widen in surprise.

"Uh, so. I notice that you don't really get any gifts from any holiday, and I wanted to give you one because you.. mean a lot to me." You hold out the roses and smile.

He just stares at them for a couple of seconds. You got him roses? Two of them.. He reaches out to take the roses, but instead of taking them, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close. It's so sudden you don't even have time to react before you find yourself in his embrace.

He's hugging you. He's holding up your wrist with the roses in them so they don't get damaged somehow in the hug. Once the shock wears off, which only took a second or two, you hug him back.

"Thank you..." He whispers into your ear and hugs you a little tighter for a second before letting go and taking the roses. A part of you is a little disappointed he let go, but the way he holds the roses and looks at the with awe makes everything okay. For a moment, everything else vanishes, and it's just you and Moon. He looks back up at you.

"Orange and blue... For sun and mine's colors?" You blink, not understanding what he means for a second. Then you get it and your eyes widen a little. "Oh no! Not at all. Uh, those roses are for you. I gave everyone roses, the colors are based of of my feelings for them, and these are based of my feelings for you."

He looks back down to the roses. "Okay. Thank you. Like them." He smiles a little, it makes you feel butterflies. All the butterflies you've been trying to put to rest are now going wild now. Your brain starts screaming at you.

Stop it.

They don't like you like that. Give it up.

Your alarm rings, you jump at the sudden noise. You turn it off and look at Moon again. "Heh, sorry. I guess I have to go now. Bye Moon, I'll see you tomorrow!" You grab your bags and wave to Moon as you leave. He wears the same smile and waves you off until you're out of sight.

He wanted to stay with you a little longer..

Sun was online, he still hadn't gone to "sleep". He saw everything.

You said you ran out of roses. But you brought two for Moon. Did you lie? Why? His metaphorical heart was broken.

"Moon- why.. why did I only get one? Do.. do they hate me?" Moon paused. He he was so caught up in the fact you gave him a gift that he forgot what happened with Sun earlier.

He was always online during gift giving time, he wanted to see what everyone brought. He saw you only give Sun one rose. One blue rose.

"I gave everyone roses, the colors are based of of my feelings for them."

Blue. "They gave roses based on feelings. What does blue rose mean?" A quick internet search in their head. "Mystery or attaining the impossible?"

...

You gave them both a blue rose.

What did that mean? What's so impossible for you to get of them?

...

Sun went offline. Now it was just Moon and Kent in the room.

So much for a happy Valentines day.

#Jsjsjshabj #happy valentines day you guys!#my writing #sun x reader #i guess?#idk #moon x reader #i think #long post

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 6 months

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Well that was a hell of a Taskmaster episode, wasn’t it? Episode 8 might have been my favourite so far of season 16. Brilliant performances across the board, I thought. I haven’t written liveblogs for most of this season because I’ve been watching it on these rich people’s giant wall-sized projector, like a private movie theatre, which is cool as fuck but means I have my computer across the room and hooked up to the thing, rather than on my lap where I can type. But I have to say a few things about this one after the fact.

So, first of all, remember how I made a post a few days ago about how it seems like comedians can’t focus much on anyone else when they’re asked to talk about a group of people that includes Sam Campbell? I find it funny that this episode confirmed that this rule applies even to his fellow Taskmaster season 16 contestants, as three of the four of them picked his name when asked to yell one.

I mean, I find it funny now, as we know the points worked out evenly. At the time, I was yelling at the giant screen like it was a major sports game, saying, “No! Come on, stop it! Pick someone else! Okay, Sam, I think everyone else is out to get you so you really need to be the first to find it. No! No, don’t leave the room it’s in! Come on, man! Look around you!” Because his victory in the season seems pretty assured at this point, but the sort of thing that could fuck it up would be some task where he not only doesn’t win, but ends up down by five points.

Luckily it didn’t matter, because he was so popular that he got picked to lose five points but also to gain five points. Because of course he did! Because of course if you ask a bunch of comedians in England in 2023 to name what comedian comes to mind when they think of someone who might be doing too well and will therefore be a threat to them, they’re going to say “Sam Campbell” and then try to think about other people.

Guys, I think the industry might be looking at him. Like some sort of one-eyed pigeon. But he’s just glad people are talking about him.

Anyway, the rest of the episode. What a good episode. The prize task, as Ed Gamble pointed out on the podcast, was pretty much just “bring in a thing”. But it gave everyone a chance to shine. Julian’s jacket has to be one of the Taskmaster prizes that I’d most like to own. A top quality Lucy story, one so absurd and so well delivered that it overcome the way I have been slightly put off by learning she genuinely believes all this stuff and it’s not just a schtick, and I didn’t even care, because this one was so funny. Every word made the story funnier. And Sam made me choke on my water from laughter when he revealed that his prize has nothing to do with his story, he just wanted to tell a story. I’d argue that he should have been given more points based on the fact that cobalt is objectively pretty and does look impressive after a drum roll, but then, I am biased by the way I back him like a sports team.

Then we have the secret task, which… I wasn’t sure what I wanted, whether I wanted this to pay off in some big way, or whether I thought it would be funnier to build it up and have it turn out to be nothing at all. I have to admit that this seemed slightly less interesting than either of those options – just make it a regular task. But I think that was made up for by Sam Campbell’s reaction to learning this. As Ed also pointed out on the podcast, all the way along, when Alex has brought up the secret task, most people have sort of rolled their eyes and ignored it. Except Sam, who’s looked interested and distracted and like he knows they’re playing some sort of trick on him and desperately wants to figure out what it is.

And after all that time and all that wondering, Alex just drops on him that it was only a normal task all along. And they’re about to just get on with things, with no mention of the fact that this task has been foreshadowed for ages, but then Sam stops them and says wait, wait… has this task been available to find all along? Like… was the secret task scavenger hunt ever even real? And Alex says it’s just been on his mind. And the look of disappointment on Sam’s face is funny enough to be worth more than whatever other payoffs I was hoping for.

Okay, this brings me to another point, which is that Ed Gamble on the podcast has been constantly saying that he’s surprised by how well Sam is doing, because he knew Sam Campbell had the creativity and talent, but thought he might just go out and mess around and not care about winning. So he’s impressed that Sam seems so competitive. But I don’t think Sam is really competitive, the way someone like Mae Martin was. He’s not arguing points in the studio or anything like that.

I think Sam Campbell has the same type of competitiveness that Hugh Dennis had, which is a weird comparison because that’s probably the only thing in the world that Sam Campbell has in common with Hugh Dennis. Hugh Dennis didn’t use to care about the points specifically, he was never bothered if he got robbed in the judging, but he did work really hard to do as well as possible in every task. Which might be slightly less fun than full-on Mae Martin (or, for that matter, Ed Gamble)-style competitiveness, but it’s still pretty good (as I’ve said before, I’m not too bothered by the lack of Gamblian argumentative competitiveness in season 16, as all rumours point to it coming back next season).

Part of why I called Sam Campbell as the winner is you can see in his comedy an ability to do the lateral thinking while keeping track of a bunch of other things at once, the videos and the props and everything else that’s going on. Most people who’ve done Taskmaster talk about how they fuck things up because it’s hard to remember all the rules and all the resources when you’re under pressure, and just do one thing at a time but will forget something else and then everything’s fallen down. Sam Campbell keeps not doing that, which is so cool to watch. Right from the first task, lying down after putting a can on the tower to avoid making any further mistakes. And you see it in all these little things. Like in that one live task where they were all cooperating by putting balls on each other’s hats for them, a move that Ed Gamble or Mae Martin simply wouldn’t have done at all. Sam does it, but when he has a ball ready and sees that Lucy already has two balls in her hat so putting one more there will win her the task, he turns away from her and puts one in Susan’s hat instead. Whimsical cooperation but still with an eye on accomplishing the set task. I love watching that kind of thing on Taskmaster. I love watching him plan things and do stuff deliberately while everyone else just panics under a time crunch.

And all that makes it extra funny when it just blows up in his face completely. Like when he did so well in the fish-mouse task, thought quickly and creatively enough to draw extra mice for extra credit, only to learn that it wasn’t a real task. Or when he’s the only contestant who’s able to keep the hunt for the secret in his mind at the same time as everything else, only to be told there wasn’t a special secret at all, it was just a task that everyone would do. And I have chosen to blame this disappointment for his uncharacteristically poor performance in the task, not looking in a fairly obvious place.

Oh, sorry, am I focusing on Sam Campbell too much? Look, at this point I’m developing enough of a SamCam obsession so people are lucky if I can have a conversation with them where I don’t mention Sam Campbell even if the topic isn’t Taskmaster. I’m certainly getting stuck on him when I am discussing Taskmaster. But it’s okay, because that’s something I have in common with all British comedians.

Though having said that, I do need to mention how funny Lucy Beaumont playing the horn was. And obviously Team Sue running around like preteen best friends at summer camp. And the JLS dynamics, with Julian wearily giving out advice about something he doesn’t care about, while Lucy is off in her own world. Great way to showcase all those dynamics, a task like this where they’re all in the same place but working separately.

And then we have the task that was stolen from Taskmaster NZ, which is a bit weird because they make a bunch of jokes that suggest it wasn’t stolen from Taskmaster NZ. Like Greg saying a “fortune trail” is something Alex made up, when it was clearly made up by Sam Smith (the guy who writes the tasks from TM NZ, not – you know, the other one of those). I was surprised they used an adapted task like this one, one that has a secret way to make it much easier, so if any of the contestants had seen Taskmaster NZ season 3, they could instantly crack this task. Of course, it turns out that famous comedians and actors have a busier schedule than I do, so none of them had time to sit around watching every episode to TM NZ season 3 as it came out. More’s the pity, they all missed out on Josh Thomson, whose frantic, intense hyper-competitiveness have made him one of my favourite contestants from any Taskmaster season. And his total meltdown in the fourtune trail task was one of my favourite parts of the season.

I wasn’t surprised that none of the season 16 contestants had seen it, though I was slightly surprised that apparently Ed Gamble hasn’t seen it, as he made no mention on the podcast of it being originally an NZ task. I see why they brought it over, and I liked it – I’ve enjoyed almost every NZ task that’s been used on Taskmaster. And while nothing in this task quite matched the beauty of the original task with Josh’s breakdown, this was still quite good. The way several of them found the lucky penny but none thought to use it. The way they were all so sure of themselves all the way along. Julian somehow winning just by not caring at all. Again, obviously, I was yelling at the screen when I realized Sam had pocketed the lucky penny instead of using it for coin tosses.

And then… look, I wanted to try to tone down the Campbell focus in this post, but how can I do that when the last filmed task was the sleeping one? Yeah the others were funny, but who’s going to come away from that focusing on anything besides the bribing of a small child?

Actually, to be fair, I think the star of that task was Flossy. I don’t know where they got her, but she was perfect. Her face might have made me laugh more than anything else in that episode. Especially her dismissiveness of Lucy and her incredulity about Sam’s promise.

Obviously we’ll get answers, right? I’d hoped we’d get an extended version of that scene, but they just released new outtakes yesterday and none of them included an explanation of whether Sam paid the eight-year-old child. Ed Gamble did, however, promise on the podcast that he will look into it and deliver us an answer. Also, obviously Sam will be back on the podcast, since each season’s winner is the guest for that season’s finale episode. So Ed can ask Sam about it then.

The other stuff was funny too. Julian actually doing an okay job of seeming to sleepwalk, until for some reason he then walked back into bed. Lucy being ludicrously awful at it. Susan’s genuinely good acting, I think she’d have fooled me. Sue building contraptions like, as they said on the podcast, someone out of Home Alone or Ferris Buller. All of it was funny. But obviously Sam stole the show again. Credit should go to the editors on that one too, I loved the way they showed it. A Kumar-with-the-basketball-style backtrack and reveal.

What a fucking great idea. I will no longer consider any Taskmaster contestant sufficiently committed to the bit if they go a whole season without bribing a single small child.

And then they ended on a game of charades, which was also funny. Just a top quality episode. I’m sad that we’re getting into the last couple of episodes already, this season has been so much fun. Maybe the oddest group they’ve had, in there doesn’t seem to be a single person in the “straight man” role.

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daddywright · 11 months

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for everyone who wanted to see a peek of the latest chapter of pressureverse! <3

"He finds Klavier in the maze of backstage doors, sitting primly on a couch as a woman in cross-stamped vest checks him over."

“Don’t see anything worth worrying about, Mr. Gavin. But maybe be careful with the pyrotechnics next time?”

“Oh, trust me, Mein Frau, I have no plans to play with fire any time soon.” Klavier’s winning grin shifts at the sight of him entering the door, stretching into a leer as he straightens up under the EMT’s observation. “But you never know when I might end up in the hot seat, ja?”

Good grief. “I was told you had some testimony for me.” He folds his arms as he draws close, mouth twitching. “Clean bill of health, then?”

“I am right as rain, according to Frau Medic,” he replies brightly, and the EMT nods his direction, closing her kit. “She’s going to work with the technicians and sweep the stage for any electrical problems. I’m afraid she has put you out of a job as far as investigations go, Forehead.”

“Don’t know how much help I’d be with stage safety, anyway," he admits, and bites his cheek. “...You forget my name already, Prosecutor Gavin?”

Klavier blinks, and a sheepish light draws his gaze downward. “Ah. Nein. Sorry, a bad habit.”

“To remember names,” he says, and Klavier's eyes flicker up to his. “I know.” Klavier pauses, as if surprised, and Apollo ignores the off-beat skip behind his sternum. “Is mine that hard to remember?”

Klavier dips his head, an unconvincing attempt at contrite that charms regardless. “No, but can I be blamed for such teasing, when my own rival calls me Prosecutor?”

“Alright then, Klavier,” and Klavier beams, “enough with the forehead thing already. I’m going to get a complex.”

“But that is precisely why it is so good a nickname. It makes a wonderful little vein on your temple twitch just so!” Klavier chuckles, practically sparkling at his noise of displeasure. “And what is a little ribbing between friends?”

“I thought we were rivals." Idly, his attention is drawn to the gold webbing the blue expanse around Klavier’s pupils. He’d never been close enough to notice it before.

“True,” Klavier hums, chin tilting at an angle that speaks dizzying things to his brain. “But who says rivals cannot also be friends?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles, distracted. “The dictionary?”

Gilded blue blinks away as Klavier’s eyes crescent with mirth, and he blinks back to himself, realizing how he’s drifted forward at— all of it. The eyes. The give and take. The low, genuine laughter that reverberates from Klavier’s throat like the strings of his guitar.

What the hell am I doing? he wonders, shifting back on his heels.

“If you want to, you should.”

Wanting a rockstar like Klavier hardly makes him special. He’s a single person in a crowd of thousands— just the only one lucky enough to end up directly across from him. In a courtroom, backstage at a concert. He’s just...himself. He’s used to that, being the least important person in the room. But this.... Klavier— Klavier Gavin is—

“Apollo?”

He stiffens, heart jumping. There’s a deliberate lingering on its syllables, exploratory and light just like the look in Klavier’s eyes.

“Where has your mind gone?” The question is asked gently, with the same curiosity wrapped around his given name, and it’s sincere and real and fuck.

I like him, he thinks, despairing. I really actually like him.

And not just because he’s him, but because of everything else, too.

“Nowhere,” he manages. His face is on fire. Klavier’s too close now, even though the distance between them is the same. He clears his throat, ripping his gaze away before Klavier’s inquisitive nature can look straight through to his mortified, puny soul. “I’m just, uh...I’m gonna go get you some water.”

Klavier blinks at him in surprise, opening his mouth. "I— While I appreciate it, there are some bottles over—”

“I just think you could use some cooling off,” he blurts out, already turning, but not before he sees Klavier’s face fluster.

“Aha, d- danke schoen—”

He flees, stomping away with a face as hot as a stovetop.

Ridiculous, he thinks, moving mindlessly out the door and into the hallway. The impression of Klavier’s flush burns the surface of his mind, haunting his steps just as viscerally as his own embarrassment. God, cooling off? Can’t keep my stupid foot out of my mouth. And he just makes it worse, because he’s a flirt who just can’t help but sound like—

Like he means it.

#pressureverse #writing tag #ace attorney #klapollo #apollo justice #klavier gavin #wip tag #aa fic

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rosaren2498 · 1 year

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Encouragement From Unsurprising Places

This is a sequel to my story ‘Nightmare or Memory’ and I have two others written already; they will be posted soon, likely later today (it’s almost 1 in the morning where I am.)

I made 4 posts that started with what I wanted out of a Dark!Dream x Reader fic that pretty much just became what I wanted out of a Dream x Reader fic so... here it is. There will be some minor differences but this and the others are what I want. It’s self-indulgent as fuck and if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

This is also on my Ao3, as will be the other two, in case you prefer Ao3 (like I do)

Warnings: Reader has Anxiety, Mentioned Trauma?

---

You absentmindedly wiped down the bar, gaze blank in that spaced-out sort of way. You couldn't stop thinking about the coat that was hanging in your closet, couldn't stop thinking about twin stars in place of eyes. You jumped when a hand tapped lightly on the bar, head jerking up and eyes wide. You relaxed when you saw Hob.

"Alright, what's going on with you? You've been distracted all week and you've been wiping down the same spot for almost twenty minutes."

You couldn't help the warmth you felt in your chest at seeing his concern, even as your face lightly flushed in embarrassment; you'd never had a better friend than Hob Gadling. "Something happened a few days ago, something kind of strange, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

Hob's eyebrows raised and he leaned against the bar, giving you that look that never failed to make you spill every secret; how does he do that?

Your eyes darted around, but The New Inn was mostly empty now and no one was going to overhear you; it was almost closing time. Your eyes flicked back to Hob and you sighed softly, tossing the towel you'd been using onto the bartop. You placed your hands down, spread apart, leaning against the bar like Hob.

"I had a nightmare, that one I've been having since I got out?" Hob gives a brief nod, expression twisting slightly at the reminder of your trauma. "Well... it didn't end like it always does. It got to the point where Dr. Maxwell was about to, rather eagerly, defile me and I closed my eyes, but then... I heard this voice. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before, like a rolling storm, like black velvet; deep and soothing even as it sounded angry. When I opened my eyes, Dr. Maxwell was gone, but someone else was standing there. He was... the most beautiful being I've ever seen in my entire life, and given how long I've lived, that's saying something."

You gave a slight huff of laughter that quickly trailed off as you stared down at the bar again, expression puzzled. "He undid my restraints and gave me his coat to cover myself, seeing as I had no clothes on. He showed... concern, I think? It was a little difficult to tell; he seemed pretty stoic, except for the little smile he got on his face when I talked about you. I swear, it changed his entire face, made him light up like the stars in his eyes; it was breathtaking, really. He asked about the nightmare, and I explained that it wasn't really a nightmare, more of a memory." You blinked and shook your head, looking back at Hob, who had a curious expression on his face.

"He tell you who he was?" He paused for a moment, then gave a confused smile. "Why'd you talk about me?"

You bit your bottom lip before sighing. "He's the younger brother of this woman I know, the one I told you about, Teleute? When he told me who he was, I nearly panicked. Teleute and her family are very old and very powerful beings, instrumental to the continued existence of the very universe, in fact. I've met a couple of her siblings, some I could go the rest of eternity without ever having to see or interact with ever again,

"But there are, or were, three I'd never met: her brothers. One is missing, or rather, he left their family several hundred years ago, and hasn't been heard from since; they don't talk about him. The second is the eldest of the family, and I don't particularly want to meet him; I'm a little too worried I'd get myself in a lot of trouble by punching him in his stupid, hooded face. The third... well, he's Teleute's oldest, younger brother, and the second most powerful of their family. I talked to him about you because he was surprised that I knew about him when he told me who he was. I mentioned that, while I did know some of his siblings, we also shared a common friend," you casually pointed a finger at Hob, "you."

Hob frowned, clearly confused, and opened his mouth. "I don't-"

You cut him off by waving your hand. "You might know him as Morpheus, or... Dream? About 5'10", wild hair that's dark as a raven's feather, pale as a corpse? Never smiles except with tiny little micro-expressions?" You didn't mention the rosebud color of his lips, or how utterly ethereal he looked; they weren't normal details to mention.

Hob blinked, startled. "You know Dream?"

You huffed another brief laugh. "As I said, I only met him a week ago. Anyways, he said that particular nightmare wouldn't bother me and then, before I could even respond, did this thing that made his voice echo in the room and in my head, and I woke up... wearing the coat he lent me."

Hob looked even more surprised- if that was possible- and more intrigued. "You woke up wearing his coat?"

You nodded. "It's still sitting in my closet. I... as tempted as I am to wear it- it's really comfortable- it feels kind of wrong? I'd like to return it to him and thank him again, but I don't know how to reach out to him. I'm not even sure I want to. Knowing his family hasn't really done me much good, beyond my friendship with his elder sister." You don't mention how Dream's scent is still on the coat, nor how you can't help but react to it; you can't really explain it anyways.

"I can let him know you want to talk to him when I see him next. We aren't just meeting every century anymore, which is great. Usually, it's at least bi-weekly, but sometimes he gets a little too busy with his function and it's once a month."

You paused, giving the offer, genuine that it was, its due thought. Part of you wanted to accept; you wanted to return the Dream Lord's coat and see him again. However, part of you wanted to refuse; you wanted to hold onto the coat as long as possible and now have him come looking for it.

"I'm... not sure that's a good idea. I don't actually know if he intentionally left the coat with him or if I somehow took it with me when I woke. One would actually be... really sweet, and the other would be very bad."

Hob eyed you before giving a small shrug and a smile. "If you say so. Just let me know if you change your mind."

---

The only reason finding Teleute wasn't difficult was because she tended to know when someone wanted (or needed) to speak with her. So, when you were approached by a dark-haired, dark-eyed, and dark-skinned woman with a beautiful smile and an ankh necklace, you weren't bothered, nor surprised.

"How are you, Teleute? How's your family?"

"I'm good. The family is... mostly the same. Del misses you."

You laughed lightly. "I miss her too. It's been a while since I've seen her."

You were both quiet for a moment as you stepped into a building, unseen. You stood back as Teleute performed her function, and then you were off again. You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to figure out how to bring up what you wished to discuss; you were so busy staring at the ground that you missed how her smile faltered at your pensive expression.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You lifted your blank gaze from the sidewalk, giving her a small smile. "I know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to word it... You're aware of what happened to me a couple of centuries ago?"

Teleute's smile dimmed, but she nodded

"Well, ever since I escaped, I've had horrid nightmares. They've never really left me alone, ya know? That is... until bout a week and a half ago. I was in one of the nightmares that tend to reoccur the most frequently, and it was interrupted... by your little brother, Dream."

She seemed startled, but neither of you could speak for a moment as she collected and guided another soul to her realm. When she was done, you didn't give her much of a chance to actually respond, barreling through just to get it all out.

"He stopped the nightmare in its tracks even going so far as to undo the restraints and lending me his coat to cover up with. Here's what gets me though: after he introduced himself- and I provided a bit of information about myself since I recognized who he was by name- he promised that that particular nightmare wouldn't trouble me anymore and then ended it. But here's the real kicker; I woke up wearing his coat."

It was clear that Teleute was stunned, as she remained silent for a few minutes, likely thinking things over. "Has he bothered you about the coat?"

You shook your head. "I haven't heard from him since."

Teleute smiled. "Well, then it's more than likely you didn't drag it with you into the Waking; he meant for you to still have it on."

Your shoulders relaxed minutely at her assurance, but your eyebrows furrowed. "Why though?"

She waited until after guiding another soul to her realm before she answered, a teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe, he wants to see you again? Dream rarely enjoys interacting with others, but I wouldn't exactly be surprised if leaving his coat behind was simply an excuse to see you again."

You frowned slightly as you thought it over; everything Hob and Teleute had told you about the Dream Lord made the idea sound... accurate; you almost laughed, but it felt like you were missing something important. "So I should tell Hob to let him know I'd like to see him?"

She smiled wider. "If that's what you want. You don't have to seek him out, you know."

"I feel like if I don't seek him out, he'll seek me out. And... maybe I want to see him again too. Even if I would like to keep the coat; as I told Hob, it's very comfortable."

Teleute laughed and you smiled in return, continuing to walk with her for a little while longer, before splitting from her. When you were far enough away, you pulled out your phone and texted Hob, letting him know it was okay to tell the Dream Lord that you wanted to meet up.

A few days later, Hob finally texted you back with a time and a place- four o'clock at a park not far from your flat- to meet up with the Dream Lord. You bit your lip as you debated with yourself, staring into your closet. Something in you said to wear the coat to the meeting spot; you could always exchange it for something else when he showed up.

Mind made up after a few more minutes of internal debate, you slipped the dark coat over your navy blue blouse; you enjoyed how it was long enough to fall to your feet, covering your jean-covered legs as well. You didn't button it, but you did drape another coat- one of your own- over your arm. You did your best to tame your hair, which really wasn't all that difficult, and left your flat.

Upon arriving at the park, you noticed it was mostly empty; normally, this would unnerve or unsettle you, but not today. You started to stroll around the park as you waited for him to show, taking deep breaths of the cold air; polluted or not, it was better than stale air that tasted of blood.

Abruptly, you could feel eyes on you and you stopped, dropping the coat that had been in your arms. There was a presence at your back, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand at attention; it was powerful and would usually be terrifying, but you could recognize it. Then you heard his voice again.

"You accept my claim, then."

A shiver rolled down your spine at his voice, even as you frowned in confusion; what claim? Before you could respond, sand was whirling around you, blocking your vision. When you could see again, the Dream Lord was standing in front of you, unfathomably dark eyes staring into yours; you knew, without a doubt, that you weren't in the Waking anymore.

#hob gadling #death of the endless #mentioned dream of the endless #mentioned trauma #reader has anxiety #good friend hob gadling #good friend death of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader

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