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candiid-caniine · 7 months

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Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

#t4t nsft #asks #gen #denial #h/d #advice #💫 anon

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thedivinershiddenarchive · 1 year

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characters. al haitham, childe;tartaglia, kaeya, x fem!reader [DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT]

content warnings. stepcest, [C/N] is "Crush's Name", all characters are 18+, exhibitionism (all), non-con/rape (all), suicidal thoughts (al haitham), unprotected sex (all), jealousy & possesiveness (all), usage of "sweetness/princess/girlie/darling/little sis/baby/slut/good girl", non-consensual creampie (al haitham), hickeys (tartaglia), virginity-taking (tartaglia), cunnilingus (kaeya), fingering (kaeya), implied voyeurism (kaeya's C/N)

summary. in which your step-brother gets jealous on how you look at his best friend, better known as your crush. he takes it into his own hands to show you he loves you more.

a/n. i noticed i need to make more dead dove content for others and not just childe (well i did add childe here so..) so they won't be left out so here are separated stepcest scenarios with different chars (also i need to write more dddne content bcus i'm being too soft in this blog)

masterlist | tag system | 17- & MASC-ALIGNED DNI!

Al Haitham

"Pay attention to me." you whimpered as Al Haitham pinched your cheeks and forcefully made you look at him. His hands swiftly coming to grip your hips so he can continue ramming into you. You could only whine with tears flowing at the corners of your eyes as you take in how your step-brother thrusts into you hard with his cock. You side-eyed from the left on where your crush was and he was looking at you wide-eyed.

"Enjoying the show, [C/N]?" Al Haitham leans onto your neck, biting and sucking on the skin, making him moan into it.

"B-big brother, please stop this.." you pushed him a bit but paused when he sucked harder, causing you to whine out of displeasure. "F-fuck.." you hear your crush whisper.

When you looked at him again, he was redder. Way too flustered at the sight of you getting railed by someone that you consider family. "[C-C/N], please stop watching.." you cried, tears only seeming to flow out more with each slam of Al Haitham's cock in your pussy.

"Let him be, sweetness. You've always liked him, haven't you?" he groans, the only thing that can be heard was the hard breaths, moaning, and wet squelches. "I don't want this, Al Haitham- I don't want him watching or do this!" you sobbed out.

"Won't you shut up already." he pushes you against the wall harder, making you shriek and grip onto his shoulders tighter. He lets you lean on his neck and cry. He was so mean.. So rough. You've never knew he was so into you before.

But now you do and you hate how he has turned possesive when he found out about your crush on his best friend. And now he's fucking you right in front of him.

It embarrassed you, it made you feel disgusted. He won't listen to you no matter how many times you told him to stop. He's too focused on how good you feel around him and not focused on what you might feel.

"Come on, you're close too right?" he grunts. "Al Haitham- Not inside, please!" you try to push him away but he was way stronger than you. He squeezes your thigh, signalling you to stop what you were doing.

No matter how much you scream at him to stop, he'll continue to get it in his way. You could feel his fingernails gripping onto you when he empties himself into your pussy and you creaming around his cock.

You whimpered and sobbed into his chest, hiccuping and sniffling. You wanna vomit and die in a hole. What the both of you just did was fucked up. He was fucked up. "You okay, princess?" he asks, his brows raised.

Were you okay? You don't even know. All you know was he should've never done this. Let alone done this in front of your crush/his best friend. You look from the left and found out that the man watching you has already left.

He tch'ed when he follows your gaze. Were you really still not over him? Not even after he's fucked you to the wall and made him watch? He doesn't even deserve a girl like you.

"Why would you do this..!" you punched his chest and he lets you, knowing it doesn't hurt as much. "I love you, can't you see?" Al Haitham whispers as he sinks you down to the ground.

He hugs your waist while you throw a fit on him. Screaming at him for what he has done to you. It didn't bother him a bit. What do you expect from a sickly fuck as him?

Childe;Tartaglia

"Why don't you show him your pretty face, girlie?" Your step-brother leads your face to look at the sidelines on where his best friend is. You whined at the sight of him and he could only look away. Your face was flushed red and eyes overflowing with tears from the stimulation you feel. “Oh, fuck..” he groans at the feeling of your pussy around him, the loud wet noises of your hole sucking him so good.

“God, darling.. You’re gonna be the death of me.” he chuckles, palming your ass and pulling you closer to the point you’re sinking into his cock even deeper. Ajax grunts when he’s fully inside of you, feeling your whole walls massaging every vein of his dick.

He tiredly looks at his best friend, sweat dripping on his forehead from the session he’s been having with you. “You better watch properly, [C/N]. I wanna show you how good this girl can take with her pussy choking on some cock." He pushes you down on the mattress and throws your thighs over his shoulders.

You almost felt like vomiting when he pulled out and pushed his whole length back in, continuing with multiple deep and fast thrusts. Ones that have your body shivering from disgust. He was your step-brother, a person who you consider family. He seems to consider you one too… Just not the way you’d expect it to be.

“A-Ajax, don’t do this, please..” you grumbled but he only rammed into you, too addicted to the way you clench around him. “You feel so good.. So much for a first-timer. Y’know, I’m quite thankful to be your first, I would’ve gone mad if he did this to you.”

“This is too much.. Please stop, we can’t be doing this.”

“Shut the fuck up already.” he gnarls, pressing his face onto your neck as he started to suck on it, making purplish lovebites that he’ll know will stay for quite a while.

“They’ll find out about it, big brother-”

“And do you think I care? I’m literally fucking you in front of your crush of all people.” he groans, he’s getting sick of your pleas. He can’t do anything about them except try to shut you up but it doesn’t seem to be working.

You sobbed onto him, wailing every time he thrusts into you. He spanks your ass a bit, making you moan out of surprise. “Fuck.. What a slut you are. Moaning from me just slapping that sweet ass of yours?” he laughs, leaving open mouth kisses all over your bare body. You could only let him do what he wants.

You look at the side to see his best friend flushed at the side. Sweat drips on his forehead as he sits on his chair to watch you. You feel helpless that even he doesn’t know how to stop him.

“Oh? Now you’re paying attention to him? Do you wanna imagine him fucking you instead of me?”

“N-No, not at all!”

“Are you sure about that?” his smile widens eerily, almost threateningly. “Tell me, little sis.” his smile drops into a serious frown. You gulp, only mustering incoherent words. Ajax only furrows his brows in frustration but lets you go, knowing how much he has traumatized you from this.

“Fine then, if you’re not talking, then do me a favor and come for me.” he blurted, slamming back inside of you, making you gasp. Your breathing increased rapidly when he proceeded to impale you on his cock at a fast pace. “You’re gripping on me, girlie.. Fuck.. You wanna make him jealous?”

You shook your head but he didn’t take “no” for an answer, only continuing his actions with hard thrusts and insulting remarks.

Soon enough you come on his cock and start milking it dry, you were shivering and weeping on his chest while he caresses your back to comfort you. Well… Tried to comfort you. He was the one making your life feel like hell and he’s not making it any better.

He was disgusting, a menace to society. Though no matter what you think or say to him, he’ll never change his obsession over you. And you wanted him to die for it.

Kaeya Alberich

“Fuck.. You’re wet down here.” Kaeya grumbles against your pussy, licking up your juices while he fingers your quivering hole. “You taste delicious too..” his muffled statements vibrated through your crotch. You were only sitting on your sofa, petrified.

You couldn’t do anything, you wished you could but you can’t. You tried pulling him away by tugging his hair but that only turned him on even more

His other hand was massaging your clit and nub. Your eyes were fixated on his best friend who seems to be enjoying the show, almost like he was getting hard from watching it. You were sobbing inside, knowing no one was able to help you escape from your own step-brother’s grasp.

You should’ve listened to Diluc about getting close to Kaeya. Ever since he started dropping hints on you, you only ignored them. Thinking all of them were platonic. Who was gonna blame you for thinking that? Both of you were step-siblings and you expected him to not make any moves on you, let alone romantic ones.

But here you were, getting eaten out by your own step-brother while having your crush watch. All those sick teasing and remarks made you wanna throw up.

“Hey, are you listening?” Kaeya stopped licking your slick and looked up at you with a grimace. “Don’t make me want to go rougher on you, now.” he threatens. Your face turned dark with wide eyes. You quickly shook your head, making him grin. “Will you promise me you’ll be a good girl and watch me eat this pussy out?”

You purse your lips and nodded in response, taking a quick glance at his best friend who was flushed red at the scene in front of him. You wanted to sob, refusing to accept that he was enjoying your suffering of being raped by a step-family member.

You can feel Kaeya sucking on your cunt and lapping your slick. “Taste so sweet, darling.. If I knew how you tasted I would’ve eaten you out a long time ago.” he moans against your pussy, continuing to work wonders (more like torture) on it.

He massages your clit before entering his finger inside, curling it, causing a groan from you. “You should make more sounds, they sound heavenly. Isn’t that right, [C/N]?” he looks at your crush with a smirk, spanking your thigh.

“H-hm? Oh, yeah..” your (used to be) crush seemed to be lost in his thoughts, well, lost at the view right in front of him. He’s no different from Kaeya, he’s also a sick fuck. You stopped thinking when Kaeya went back to sucking on your hole like he’s a baby lactating.

While his left hand worked in fingering you, his free one massaged your inner thighs. Speaking of fingering you, he added another finger, and another one while thrusting them at a fast pace. It was too much for your pussy to handle.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, princess. Never knew you’d be as disgusting too..” you wanted to yell at him for thinking such a thought, this was just your body betraying you. Your mentality knew it was wrong even if it feels good.

“C’mon baby, stop tensing up so much. It takes the fun out of it.” the blue-haired man muffled against your cunt, swallowing in any possible substance. How can you stop if he’s being such a menace?

“Are you close? Just making sure.” he smirks against your skin, curling up three fingers inside of you. You choked back a moan, visibly shaking when he drinks up your juices and sinks multiple digits inside of you.

“You better tell me or I’m gonna go for round 2.” you hate how he keeps making up warnings to scare you. You hate to admit that it worked, but who can blame you? You don’t want it to continue.

“I-I’m close..” you stuttered out. He huffs, caressing your thigh for your honesty. “Good girl.”

You grow sensitive overtime, signaling that you are close to your release. Your legs shake on his shoulders, the knot around your stomach was broken as you went limp.

“You made such a mess on me, [Y/N].” he chuckles sinisterly against your cunt. In the end, he took in the cum and swallowed it like it was his last meal.

“P-please, no more Kaeya. I don’t want this.”

“Ugh, fine. But soon, we’ll go for another one.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, one from the stimulation and the other from what Kaeya had done to you. Your parents, you wanted to tell Diluc about this. Anyone who can assist is welcome. But you can't do that now because they've already left for the Dawn Winery and you're stuck at home with the blue-haired man. A man that has ruined your life and you’ll forever despise him for it.

#notsodivininglover ; king’s pages #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe smut #tartaglia smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #dead dove: do not eat

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charmandabear · 6 months

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Leather and Lace

Summary

Lady Estelle wasn't expecting to fall for her tailor, of all people. But with everything under her control during the day, she's more than content to cede control to him at night.

Pairing: Astarion/F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasm denial, safeword discussion, light bondage, d/s dynamic, p in v sex, vampire sex, biting, vampire bites, blood drinking, sexual tension, casual classism, AU, (sorta, you can make an argument), praise kink

Read on AO3

Something in me turned feral when I saw Hamrikaa's tailor!Astarion art and I needed to get this out of my system. It doesn't help that I work with costumes irl and I suddenly got a lot of opinions about Astarion and sewing.

I have more thoughts on this relationship, particularly with the class difference and power dynamics. I also really want a story with a plus size protag since I'm really tired of feeling like the implication is that all Tavs/OCs are the type 1 body. So let me know if that's something that appeals to you, or if you're interested in a longer version with more than just sexual tension and smut, lol.

Fucking Arfur.

It’s sundown on a Saturday and Lady Estelle Rosewinter is traipsing through the Lower City looking for a tailor. Arfur Gregorio had shown up to her masquerade several hours early already intoxicated. While trying to shoo him off the grounds, he had stepped on her gown, ripping the seam of the thigh high slit to a nearly obscene height. Now, as guests are beginning to arrive, she isn’t there to greet them and is rather passing shop after shop putting up their closing signs.

She could have just chosen a different gown as her handmaiden Celia had suggested, except that it took her so long to get into the damn thing. She thought that getting it fixed would take but a minute. It did not occur to her that, given the hour, finding an available tailor would prove so difficult.

Estelle is about to give up when she sees a dim little shop out of the corner of her eye. It’s not on the main drag, but rather up a quiet alleyway. But there’s no mistaking the sign.

Threads of Starlight

The door to the shop is clearly open, so she rushes in, desperate to speak with the proprietor.

“My apologies, I know you’re probably about to close, but I have an emergency, and I promise that I’ll pay handsomely for the inconvenience–” she cuts herself off as the tailor walks out from the back. He’s so much more attractive than she would’ve expected from someone of his station. His clothes are humble but understandably incredibly well-fitting, his trousers gently hugging his lean legs and the sleeves of his light linen top rolled up above his elbows, revealing pale, slender forearms. His silvery hair looks windswept and effortless, although Estelle knows it takes a practiced hand to get one’s hair just right like that. There’s a measuring tape slung around his neck and he looks briefly startled by her appearance before a practiced charm takes over.

“No need for apologies, Lady…” he leaves a gap in his speech for her to tell him her name. His voice is melodic.

“Estelle. Lady Estelle.” She tries to match his honeyed tone but her mouth has suddenly gone dry. He takes her hand and gently presses his lips to her knuckles.

“Lady Estelle. The pleasure is all mine,” he coos and a shiver goes up her spine. What on earth would a tailor need with this much charisma? Without letting go of her hand, he gracefully leads her up onto the fitting stand in the middle of the shop. She has danced with the finest nobility in Baldur’s Gate, and none of them were even half this elegant.

“Now please, tell me what I can do for you. I hope there’s nothing wrong with this beautiful gown of yours. Is it one of Galwen’s?” The way he looks at her makes her feel exposed, almost naked, despite the conversation literally being about her clothes. She clears her throat in an attempt to regain some composure.

“Yes, I’ve been going to her for years, but she’s tragically unavailable this evening.” Not that Estelle didn’t try. She sent three messengers and finally went to Galwen’s door herself, but she refused to open back up. Pity, since it looks like she’s lost Estelle’s business for good, especially if this one turns out to be as good as he looks. And gods does he look good.

“All the more fortunate for me that I stay open late,” he says in a low tone, and gooseflesh breaks out over Estelle’s arms. “Now, tell me darling,” he coughs at letting the casual pet name slip out, “pardon me, my Lady, how can I be your gown’s savior this evening?” Estelle hadn’t heard the rest of his sentence because her ears started ringing at the “darling.” Normally she would not take too kindly to someone in the working class speaking so informally to her. She’s beginning to feel lightheaded. Has she been hexed? Does this happen to any who cross his threshold?

“It’s torn,” she says in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Right here.” She lifts her skirt at the thigh slit, threads popping out of the seam. In an instant the tailor is on one knee, examining it closely. With him suddenly this close, all of her symptoms dissipate and are replaced by just one: desire.

She tries to shake herself out of it. Not only would anything of the sort be wildly inappropriate - given her status in Baldur’s Gate, an affair with a lowly tailor would be splashed all over Baldur’s Mouth within hours - this man is a consummate professional, and she’s certain that he would never return her affections. He must look beneath dozens of hems a day, this is nothing out of the ordinary for him.

He touches the fabric as he studies it, cool fingers lightly grazing Estelle’s skin. She gasps at the sensation, and he looks up at her sheepishly.

“I’m terribly sorry, I have poor circulation. My touch is always something nasty, I’m afraid.” Estelle shakes her head and finds anywhere to look but into those piercing red eyes.

“It’s fine, really. I have an important evening planned, so I’m a bit jumpy,” she lies through her teeth. He steps away to pick up a needle and thread from behind the counter. While his back is turned, Estelle takes the time alone to wipe sweat off her brow. This man is making her burn up inside and out.

“Oh really?” he sings as he’s back down on his knees, dangerously close to her upper thigh once again. “And pray forgive me, but I must reach up slightly in order to make this repair, if that’s alright. I promise, I’ll be the picture of a gentleman.” He looks up at her, waiting for her consent before touching her further. Estelle, worried what might come out if she opened her mouth, just nods.

He slides his hand between the fabric and her leg, pulling it out slightly so he can tuck his needle into the underside of the seam. Estelle bites down on her tongue to keep from moaning. She knows that she’s touch-starved, it’s been far too long since anyone has warmed her bedsheets. Between running a household, meeting with politicians and nobility alike, and her position in the Baldur’s Gate arts council, she hardly has the time. But this is ridiculous. A gentle caress from a man should not elicit this much heat between her thighs, and yet here she is, keeping them pressed together tight, the slight pressure her only relief.

His fingers move deftly, pulling the needle through the fabric with ease. He’s focusing on his work so intently, and Estelle watches him almost like he’s a dream. He begins tying off the thread, and before he’s complete, his eyes flick upward to meet Estelle’s.

“All finis-” he begins, but Estelle is so startled by the intensity of his gaze that she jumps, causing him to prick his finger with the needle. A tiny droplet of blood lands on the pale pink silk. The tailor jumps back, horrified, and immediately starts apologizing profusely.

“Oh gods, Lady Estelle, I’m so terribly sorry, look at what a clumsy little fool I am, gods on such a beautiful dress, too,” his words tumble out of him, all composure that was once there, now gone. She’s finding this flustered side of him possibly even more appealing than the cool and collected version. Her lady-of-the-house instincts kick in, and she addresses him like a new maid who has accidentally broken china while transporting it to the kitchen.

“Darling,” she breathes and lifts his chin with a finger. She can finally look into those crimson eyes, feeling herself regain the poise she’s accustomed to. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a speck.” She swears she can hear his breath catch, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking because he recovers quickly.

“Perhaps, but I still feel terrible. This mend is on the house, as well as any alteration you might need done on another garment. And, ah. How to say this.” He looks flushed again, despite the paleness of his skin. “There is a foolproof way of getting one’s blood out of fabric, but it’s not the most, er, refined shall I say.” This piques Estelle’s intrigue.

“Really? And what way is that?”

The tailor shifts nervously, and she positively relishes in the trade in demeanors.

“This only works if it’s the one the blood belongs to, but if you can catch it straight away, then, erm, saliva will do the trick,” he says with a chagrined smile. Whatever Estelle was expecting, this is not it.

“Oh,” she responds, and suddenly she’s back to that lightheaded feeling. What is he proposing exactly? Whatever it may be, she’s certain it will involve his mouth in some way and she’s not sure how she’ll handle that.

“The next five alterations are free, I’m so very sorry, this is very uncommon while working on a garment. At least, I’m usually better at catching myself,” he adds with embarrassment.

“Uh, yes, whatever- whatever needs to be done. Thank you.” She peers down at him, willing herself to find somewhere else to look but unable to tear her eyes away. He pops a thin, pale finger in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. She swallows loudly as he takes his finger out and dabs it on the slit of her dress, still achingly close to her thigh. He rubs at the spot, but evidently it’s not enough, because he then brings his lips to her dress and lightly rubs his tongue on the silk.

“Oh gods,” she can’t keep this moan from escaping her lips. If he can hear her, he doesn’t respond, blessedly. He pulls away from her, silver hair ever so slightly disheveled, and rubs at the spot with a handkerchief to dry it.

“Apologies again, my Lady,” he says with a frown, examining the spot for any remaining blood. Then he stands and they’re face to face, the few inches of pedestal putting their eyes at the same height. “I hope this doesn’t make you think any less of my skills as a tailor.” She briefly wonders what other skills he might possess before banishing the thought from her head.

“Not at all, er,” she falters, realizing she never asked his name, which is unlike her, she usually tries to learn the names of all of the people she contracts to work for her.

“Astarion,” he says with a bow.

“Astarion, yes,” she repeats breathlessly. “Well, Astarion, you came to my aid in a time of desperation, and I suppose there was a blood price to be paid.” He lets out a startled laugh, clearly not expecting her to make such a joke.

“That’s very clever, Lady Estelle,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You were a pleasure to have on my fitting platform, I do hope to see you again soon. At least to make up for my absolute buffoonery.” He’s back to the confidently poised man who first greeted her when she entered the shop, and he plants another light kiss on the back of her hand.

“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” Estelle murmurs, almost hoping that he doesn’t hear her. “Oh, and Astarion?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Please. Call me Stella.

***

Several tenday have passed since Stella’s first meeting with Astarion, and she had visited his shop nearly every evening. It didn’t take long for her to admit her feelings; she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. Even when Astarion confessed his status as a vampire spawn, she wasn’t deterred. If anything, it aroused her all the more. Something happens to Astarion when he drinks her blood. The humble and subservient tailor disappears, and in his place is a self-assured and dominant man. Stella is more than happy to relinquish control over to him. She’s responsible for so much during the day, making decisions, telling people what to do, so there’s an appeal to having someone else take that role for once.

The moment she walks into the shop she’s met with the graceful gentleman. No matter how many times she sees him, that wicked smile sets a small ember in her belly that quickly spreads. Each point of contact lights on fire despite his chilled skin. A spark in her fingers as he pulls her forward, a flame on her cheek as he strokes it gently. In an instant he shuts the door and flips around the open sign. With the darkened windows and the door now closed, they’re plunged into semi-darkness and Stella feels a chill go up her spine.

Astarion wastes no time in pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply. He presses his body up against hers and she gasps into his kiss as he pulls her in closer by her waist. He slides his knee between her legs and she lets out a whimper. Astarion chuckles in her ear.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he coos, lifting her slightly with his knee putting a delicious pressure on her mound. She clutches the back of his neck and hair, wrapping her leg around him to get even closer. He hikes up her skirt to her waist and scoops her up so both of her legs grip his midsection. Keeping his lips locked on hers as she continues to devour him, he carries her through the shop and to one of the adjacent rooms where there’s a bed and two untouched glasses of wine sitting on a side table. The tailor’s quarters.

He throws her down on the bed and she looks up at him, cheeks and lips flushed, eyes glowing. Her typically neatly coiffed hair is mussed and strands splay out beneath her head like a halo. Astarion straddles her waist, pinning her in place, as he strokes her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes. She grabs his shirt and pulls him in close.

“You know what I want,” she smirks, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. He laces his fingers through her tousled hair and gently grazes his fangs over her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“And you know I like to hear it,” he murmurs into her neck, and another full-body shiver goes through Stella. His breath feels chilling against her warm neck, blood pumping eagerly through her arteries. She grabs his face and forces him to look her in the eye – the last bit of control she has before she cedes it completely.

“Astarion,” she says slowly, measured and teasing, “I would enjoy it very much if you bit my neck, drank my blood, and then had your fucking way with me.” He chuckles darkly.

“Well,” he grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “since you asked so nicely.” Stella lets out a moan as his fangs sink into her skin, the piercing pain soon giving way to a throbbing ache. His lips close around the wound, drinking in her delicious warmth, leaving her feeling blissfully lightheaded. She hums with pleasure as she curls her fingers into his silvery locks, hips unconsciously rolling into his, hungry for more contact. She can feel him growing stronger as her blood flows into him, his thighs tightly gripping her hips, keeping her locked into place.

Astarion pulls away from her before going too far and Stella lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He’s out of breath, chest heaving as he licks the last of her blood from his lips. He presses two fingers to the wound on her neck to stanch the bleeding as she looks up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Once he can feel that the blood is no longer flowing freely, he takes his fingers away and hovers them centimeters above Stella’s lips.

“Open,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys. She takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks on them lasciviously, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It’s one thing to prick her finger and to suck on it to make the bleeding stop. It’s quite another to lap her blood of Astarion’s fingers, languishing in the vulgarity of the taboo. She yearns to hear his breath hitch as she works her tongue over their length.

He slides his fingers out of her mouth and grabs her chin, reversing the roles from moments before. He examines her face, turning it this way and that, like he’s inspecting a prized golden retriever at a dog show.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he lets out in a low tone. “Trapped underneath me, open and wanton, ready to let me do whatever I want with you. To you,” he adds on with an impish grin, and Stella squirms with anticipation. He swings a leg over her and stands by the edge of the bed, towering over her.

“Up now, on your knees,” he instructs and she scrambles to sit on her knees, still looking up at Astarion with lust-filled eyes. He reaches behind her and fully releases her hair from its loose braid letting it fall down the length of her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, humming as he does, “Good girl.” Her chest swells with the intake of breath as she leans into his touch even more.

“Undress. Quickly,” he demands. Her skirt is already up around her waist so she peels the rest of her dress off in a fluid motion. The corset provides a little more resistance, but even with fumbling fingers she manages to untie the laces and undo the hooks, letting it fall behind her. The sudden exposure to air makes her nipples go hard. Astarion smirks and cups one of her breasts in his hand, stroking her tit with his thumb. Stella bites back a cry.

“Shh shh shh. Not a sound,” Astarion whispers as he puts his lips close to her ear, continuing to fondle her. “I don’t want to hear you make a single noise, understood? Not until I say so.” He pulls away and locks his crimson eyes on her brown ones. Stella trembles, but nods silently.

“Good,” he breathes and slides her forward so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her toes lightly touching the floor. He then lowers himself to one knee between her legs. He kisses up her thigh until he reaches her panties. He looks up at her mischievously as he hooks a finger in either side of the waistband, and he slips them off in a single fluid motion. Stella shudders with anticipation for what he plans to do next.

Astarion parts her legs and she can feel the cool air on the slickness between her thighs. He leans forward and takes her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue lightly over the tip. She takes in a shaky breath, but she manages to keep any noise she might want to make under wraps. He looks up at her while continuing to work his tongue. She clenches the sheets as jolts of white hot electricity shoot through her body. He pushes her legs apart even further and leans in, the ties from his frilled shirt lightly brushing against her folds. She gasps and shifts her pelvis, simultaneously trying to get less and more contact. He grabs her waist forcefully to hold it in place. He snakes his way up so that they’re face to face, lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“Ah ah, no moving either. Are you going to be good for me? Will you be silent like I’ve asked?” he says in a light, sing-songy tone. Stella keeps her lips clamped together as she nods.

“And what will you give me if you can’t obey?” he purrs, brushing his lips against hers as he runs a thin, cool finger along her slit.

“Ah-anything,” Stella moans, turning her pleasure sound into a response. Astarion lets a smug grin play on his lips.

“Either way, I’ll get what I want,” he intones, and mercifully pulls his face away from hers. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But it’s still only the beginning.

He lowers himself onto both knees and places a delicate kiss on her labia. She squirms but remains silent.

“My, you could drown a small army down here,” he says with an amused smile, and Stella just continues to breathe heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazes down at the head of white curls between her legs. He runs the tip of his tongue along her folds, hands pushing out on her thighs slightly as he does. As he parts her legs further he exposes more of her, letting his tongue explore the newly uncovered skin. A cry catches in Stella’s throat and she slaps a hand over her mouth. His scorching gaze fixes on her and she lets herself fall back on the bed. If she watches she’ll be done for. Then again, not being able to anticipate his next move might be even worse.

Not being one to let her escape his torment, Astarion grabs Stella beneath the legs and yanks her toward him, letting her legs fall onto his shoulders as he continues to lap up her sweetness. She chokes down a whine, her breath quickening as she desperately tries to control herself. His tongue plunges into her and she bites into her hand with a hiss. With her pelvis rolled up so that he can get the best angle, he continues fucking her with his tongue, getting deep enough that the tips of his fangs press into her ever so lightly.

That’s what sets her over the edge. The smallest pinprick of pain along with all of the filthy things he’s doing to her with his tongue tears a scream from her throat, muffled by her hand. He stops and stands over her, backlit by the low lighting, her wetness reflecting off his devilish smile. He then grabs her by the throat, not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to pull her face up to his.

“What was that, my sweet?” he growls dangerously.

“N-nothing,” Stella stammers out, but Astarion just smiles.

“I don’t think it was ‘nothing,’ darling,” he breathes, acid in his voice. “I was very explicit in my instructions, was I not?” His hand tightens around Stella’s throat and she lets out a choked sound. It’s not a sound she usually makes. Astarion pulls his hand back slightly, concern creeping into his eyes. Stella looks up at him and nods.

Keep going.

They have a safe word for a reason, but if anything unexpected happens, Astarion still prefers to check in. He’s mentioned before that sometimes he’s worried that he’ll lose control, especially right after drinking her blood.

Stella finds the danger absolutely thrilling, but wants him to feel just as safe as she does.

Astarion drops her throat and pushes her down so her back is flat against the bed. Still between her legs, he pushes his pelvis against hers, pinning her wrists above her head. He’s still fully clothed, and the leather of his pants feels deliciously cool against her wet pussy. He puts one knee up on the bed, pushing her right leg up higher and spreading her even further. As unphased and indifferent as he seems, Stella can still feel his erection pressing into her, and she shifts to feel it more.

“You said you’d give me anything if you failed, correct?” he murmurs against her lips.

“Yes,” the word escapes on a breath.

“Then hold still.” Astarion stands and the sudden loss of all contact elicits a small whine from Stella. He flashes her a playful smirk as he walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two long strips of cloth. He climbs on top of Stella again, straddling her hips and squeezing lightly with his thighs.

“Wrists, please,” he commands almost nonchalantly. Stella immediately puts her wrists together and holds them out to Astarion.

“Good girl,” he coos and the praise makes her lightheaded. He tenderly wraps her wrists up in the silk cloth, making sure it's tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cause any lasting damage. He then takes the other strip of cloth, a sturdier cotton broadcloth, and holds it to her lips. He ties it tightly behind her neck, keeping her from being able to open her mouth at all.

“Since you can’t control yourself enough to stay quiet,” he purrs, low and dangerous, “maybe this will do it for you. And I think,” he stands and walks over to the bed stand. He looks over his shoulder and orders in an apathetic tone, “Up dear.” She scrambles to her knees, wrists falling limply in her lap. He continues, “I think you need one more thing to remind you to whom you belong.” He pulls out a fine leather collar with a silver O-ring in the middle. Stella’s excitement mingles with genuine admiration for the craftsmanship. He turns around and lovingly closes it around her neck. He then slips one slender finger through the ring and pulls it up so her head is tilted toward him.

“How does that feel, good?” he asks lightly, and she nods, still desperate to please. He lets go of the collar and strokes her jaw. “Good,” he breathes, and she can see the self-control in his eyes. He wants to fuck her just as much as she wants him to, and it’s taking everything in his power to hold out. He leans into her lips as though he’s about to kiss her but stops just short of making contact.

“Now, before I decide precisely what I want to do with you,” he hums into her lips, “I want to make sure you can still tell me if I need to stop or slow down. If it ever becomes too much, I want you to snap your fingers, understood? Show me now.” Astarion keeps his lips achingly close to hers, but she does as he says. When he hears her snap, he grabs her face in his hands and kisses her roughly, sliding a dastardly knee between her legs once again. She longs to reach for him but keeps her bound wrists dutifully in her lap as his lips continue their assault on hers.

Once he breaks the kiss, he remains close and slides his hands behind her head and into her hair. “Good girl,” the words rumble low in his throat and Stella is grateful for the cloth that muffles the obscene noise she makes. He steps away and she’s finally able to see all of him as he pulls off the tunic, revealing his porcelain chest. She yearns to run her fingers along it, tracing the outlines of his muscles, but instead she just grabs a fistful of sheets beneath her hands. He pulls down his trousers, letting his already hardened cock free, and her pussy twitches in anticipation.

Astarion saunters back up to her and touches the front of her gag where a small wet spot is forming with her desire for him. He smirks and pulls her face down to his cock, running the tip of it along the broadcloth. She can feel it brush against her lips, and she again moans in anticipation.

“Don’t you wish you could take me in your mouth?” he breathes, and Stella presses her tongue against the inside of the gag, trying to make even minimal contact. He laughs cruelly. “Gods, you’re desperate,” he scoffs. “It’s a shame, because if you had been able to follow my instructions, I may have even let you ride me on top.” He pushes the tip of his dick into the gag one more time before pulling away, leaving Stella to squirm achingly.

“But instead,” he forcefully pushes her back so that she’s once again lying on the bed with her legs spread open for him. He crawls on top of her and teases her opening with his tip. She mewls in desperation. “You’ll have to contend with me doing whatever I want to this beautiful body of yours. I can slide in,” and he pushes into her, wrenching a gasp and whine from her mouth, before pulling out and letting his tip tease her again, “and pull out on a whim. You said I could do whatever I want.”

Stella is beside herself with lust. Unable to move her hands, she writhes her pelvis, trying to get even the slightest bit of contact. Her pussy is starting to burn from the pent up desire and she’s genuinely unsure of how much longer she can last like this. Astarion grins widely and his fangs sparkle in the low lighting.

“Shall I give you what you want, darling? What you so fiercely crave?” His slick tip is still dancing around her cunt and tears are starting to form in her eyes as she nods. He thrusts into her again and rips the cloth from her lips before whispering sharply into her ear.

“Then I want to hear it all,” he hisses. “I want you screaming my name as I fuck you.” With his permission, she cries out, all of her stifled energy finally releasing.

“Oh gods, Astarion, fuck me please,” the words spill from her mouth uncontrollably. He starts pounding into her and she knows after all that time teasing her, she won’t last long. The heat of him sliding in and out, the stretch with each thrust, fills her with a fire that threatens to turn into an explosion.

“Fuck, Astarion, please,” she whines, moments away from climax. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him in deeper, and now it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He continues to slam into her, the sounds of their mutual pleasure mounting.

“Look at me,” he growls, and she struggles to keep her gaze locked onto his crimson eyes. He looks so beautiful above her, silvery hair getting slick with sweat, panting as he continues his smooth rhythm. She can feel her orgasm building as her cries grow louder. He knows she’s close, too, and once again he flashes a fang-bearing smile.

“Come for me, darling,” he groans, and that sends her toppling over the edge.

“Gods, Astarion, yes!” she screams as she comes, and his follows shortly after. With a final thrust, he releases into her, his cock pulsing exquisitely. He looks down at her with an uncharacteristically shy smile and kisses her as he pulls out.

Both of them are out of breath as he collapses onto the bed next to her. Stella’s limbs feel light as though she just downed an entire bottle of dream mist. She rolls onto her side to look at Astarion, who appears to be equally intoxicated. Without a word she holds her wrists up, and he laughs lightly.

“Ah, yes, you might want those back,” he croons, and uses his teeth to pull out the knot, and the silk falls away in one fluid motion. Her hands are so close to his face that she cups his chin gently, just content to look at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and he turns a kiss into her palm.

“I could say the same thing,” he purrs as he looks up at her through his lashes. “Tea?” He pulls up the plush blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the bed and wraps it around Stella’s shoulders. She snuggles into it and pulls it closed around her, then nods. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead and walks over to fill the kettle hanging above the hearth. Stella admires his silhouette, backlit by the light of the fire. He’s lithe and sinewy, his sculpted muscles built for dexterity more than strength. Her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his bare ass. He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she hums, “just enjoying the view.” He smiles as he leans over the blanket cocoon she’s swathed herself in and kisses her lips softly, gently. He’s always particularly tender with her after a session like that, and Stella is grateful for it. She loves being able to see both of these sides of Astarion. The affable tailor eager to serve, and the dangerous dom claiming his power. Her fingers lightly dance on the collar he put on her. She likes the idea of belonging to him. A pity she couldn’t wear something as conspicuous as a leather collar in her daily life.

Astarion returns with a steaming mug, and as though reading her mind, pulls a long jewelry box from the drawer of the bedside table.

“A companion piece to your collar, if you so wish,” he says in explanation. “You’re under no obligation to wear it, of course, but I thought you might like a little reminder of me everywhere you go.” She opens the box and nestled in the satin is a delicate silver chain with a small ring in the center. Her jaw drops slightly as she marvels at its beauty.

“Astarion, how did you–?” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“It pays to be a well-connected artisan, darling,” he says with a shrug.

“Will you put it on me?” Stella asks in a light voice, and he looks delighted. She lifts up her hair so that he can unclasp the leather collar and replace it with the silver necklace. His fingers brush against her neck, lingering on the puncture mark he left earlier.

“Although perhaps you might want to sport high-collared dresses for a bit,” he admits with an apologetic grin. Stella turns and kisses him, cupping his face and gently running her thumb along his jaw.

“Well thank the gods I have a tailor who can make me new gowns in all the latest fashions,” she smirks. He climbs on top of her to kiss her more deeply, their naked bodies touching in a way that’s intimate, but not sexual. She could melt into his flesh, his kiss, his breath, and never want to change a thing.

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magicalmysteryperson · 2 years

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Adrienn Banai: The Rat Lover

I didn't want to post about any of this, but this person forced my hand.

I can't let this person run around on this hellsite anymore.

For those not in the know, this person harasses artists into drawing their husbando: a rat character named "Grey" from the children's series "Larva Island". Sometimes they also harass people into drawing Grey's grandpa, a female version of Grey named "Greyless", Grey wearing Roxanne's dress from "A Goofy Movie", and plenty of parodies of the opening scene of said movie. Like, they subjected one person to draw that same sequence with different characters like 6-7 times. And the "best" part? Sometimes they steal the poor victim's art to claim it as their own. And sometimes, they create edits of them WITHOUT CREDITING THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS. And when they do get caught, they apologize. A lot. But that's only a front to get respect again.

Her husbando

And I was one of their unfortunate victims. This person is weird as all hell; they ship this rat with Pibby (a character that is canonically from a preschool show), Meilin Lee (A hecking 13 year old girl), and Adrienn themselves.

The rat, according to the user, is 15 while the female version of the rest, his girlfriend, is 12.

Adrienn themselves are either 17 or 19.

The fandoms they follow are: -Courage the Cowardly Dog -Friday Night Funkin -Learning with Pibby -Little Nightmares -Turning Red -Anything Disney related (Goofy mostly) -Steven Universe -Made in Abyss -Road to El Dorado -Eddsworld -Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles -Super Mario series and, most importantly, Larva.

She stole my artwork just to make crappy edits

adrienn, flat out admitting that they steal art from people

It's already kind of weird enough, but then I did more digging on this person. They have a butt ton of accounts on a multitude of social media websites. They have a few on reddit, a few on wikia, one on vimeo, and a few on behance, of all places. They have a long history of harassing users, especially on reddit and wikia. They have the most accounts on Tumblr, with five (two of them are inactive.) The second biggest is wikia, with four. The earliest accounts were on DeviantArt, which makes a lot of sense. Oh, but it gets better. They have uncensored nsfw content on two tumblrs. This is from one of their accounts. I am not going to show you the image, but I'm going to show you the tags:

I mean, I'm glad that they tagged it as "rule 34", but I'm more surprised about how tumblr didn't purge those posts or ban the user entirely. So, if you see someone with any of these accounts ask you to draw this rat, dump the ask and block em. Hell, even report them if you need to : https://adrienn-banai-09.tumblr.com/ (WARNING, NSFW CONTENT AHEAD) https://adriennbanai09.tumblr.com/ (Not as nsfw as the one above, but still, nsfw) https://andreabanai.tumblr.com/ https://adriennsposts.tumblr.com/ (currently active) https://adriennbanai-09.tumblr.com/ (currently inactive) https://adriennbanai-2022.tumblr.com They may also go by "zoltanbanai", so keep your eyes out.

And Adrienn/Andrea, if you are reading this, I urge you to take a break from the internet and get some help. As I said multiple times, this behavior will not help you make friends. It will only make more enemies. I am an autistic just like you (probably. idk) and I really don't want to put you down like this, but you're already weirding a bunch of people out. Though you probably won't listen to me anyway, since apparently in your eyes the word "no" is just an unspoken "yes".

And please don't harass this person or send them death threats. Doing that just makes you a bad person.

I hope this is the last time I talk about this person, because I don't really have the time or the patience to deal with stupid bullcrap like this.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. The clorox brain bleach is on the right side of the exits.

#important #psa #cw: weird shit #cw: kinda suggestive #art theft #grey rat saga

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tommykinard6 · 21 days

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could you explain briefly how the omegaverse work and why is eddie one? thank you :)

Gladly! I shall break it down as much as possible.

Omegaverse is a take on wolf pack dynamics. This can be literal, with wolf characters or werewolves. It can also be when the characters are fully human or have very distant wolf ancestry.

There’s Alpha, Beta, Omega, and sometimes non presenters, though not all authors write with non presenters. These are called secondary genders. Primary genders, such as male or female, have no impact on secondary genders in most verses. Non presenters never take a secondary gender or present much later in life. Presentation usually happens in the teen years or the person is born already presented. Presented is another term for secondary puberty, when the secondary gender matures and becomes obvious.

Now I shall keep this post SFW, but I can do an explanation on NSFW too if it’s wanted! Just let me know!

The alpha is generally the protective leader, the dominant one, sometimes literally the pack leader. In most fics, they are the partner with most societal pull and authority.

Betas are the neutrals. They make great peacekeepers, healers, advisors. Alphas and omegas are generally affected more by scents and emotions than betas.

Omegas are the caretakers and the heart of the “pack”. They’re the quiet engine that make the world go round.

Now, traditionally, alphas seem to take more stereotypical male roles and omegas take more stereotypically female roles, regardless of primary gender. That isn’t always true! But is a common theme.

Let me explain scents real quick. Basically every presented alpha/omega has a distinctive scent. Betas might too, but that varies. Betas also might not be able to smell scents as well as alphas and omegas. These scents can be vague, like smoky, or detailed, like apple pie with a hint of lemon.

((Warning for mention of mpreg: I’ll mark when it ends))

Each dynamic can be any primary gender. It’s up to the author how they want that gender to cross over. Are female alphas able to get omegas pregnant? Can female alphas get pregnant? Can male omegas get pregnant or get someone else pregnant?

((Ends here))

Betas tend to follow the biological rules of primary genders.

((Brief mention of dub-con/non-con as a theme. No graphic description within))

Now, it’s worth knowing before anyone non-experienced in A/B/O goes looking that sometimes, dub-con and non-con are themes in fics. That’s because alphas experience ruts and omegas experience heats and in a rut or a heat, the person can’t consent unless they already established consent beforehand. They’re not technically in their right mind.

((Finishes here))

That’s part of why omegaverse gets a bad rap.

I pride myself in writing fully consensual and enthusiastic A/B/O content, at least between the main ship. It’s absolutely possible to do. Tagging is important! Be sure to utilize filters if you want to avoid stuff when you go looking.

Now, for why I see Eddie as an omega.

It started partially because I don’t see Buck as an omega and I was and still am a Buddie shipper. I definitely saw him as an alpha figure. It’s also partially because of the top/bottom dynamic. Stereotypically, alphas are tops and omegas are bottoms. THIS IS NOT ALWAYS TRUE. You can write it however you want! That’s how I prefer to write, though.

I see Buck as a top/dom and Eddie as a bottom/sub. That man just needs to let go and get out of his head. He needs to be taken care of and pampered. Buck loves to take care of people and spoil them. Besides, I’m a bit of a slut for a size difference.

I don’t do well in explaining how or why a character is a bottom/omega to me; it’s sort of just a feeling. But hopefully, that explains it well enough!

Quick note to add that any dynamic can have any relationship. Alpha/alpha, alpha/beta, beta/beta, beta/omega, omega/omega are all alternatives to the classic alpha/omega pairing.

I did the best I could, but please let me know if you have further questions!

Edit to add: he’s canonically a nester and while that means something different in A/B/O…VINDICATION

#911 abc #9-1-1 #911 show #evan buckley #eddie diaz #omega eddie diaz #alpha Evan Buckley #a/b/o #explanation of a/b/o #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #tk6 talks a/b/o #tk6 answers

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bella-rose29 · 10 months

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Chapter 4 - The Honeymoon (part 2)

Did I take inspiration from Queen Charlotte? ... mayybe. Did I also take the image from Queen Charlotte? ... mayybe

Also please let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list and I will do so!

Enjoy! <3

Warnings: mentions of past trauma

Word count: 2.6k

Tag list: @kentucky-criedfricken, @polli05927, @kateswone, @historianthesecond, @ell0ra-br3kk3r

This honeymoon was a disaster.

Since that first day when they had arrived, Y/N had seen Nikolai twice.

It was the third morning.

She had breakfasted alone, she had eaten her lunch alone, and she had had dinner alone. Her husband was nowhere to be found, and it was starting to infuriate her. She understood that she wasn't being the nicest to him, but she didn't feel that Nikolai had given her enough reason to trust him yet, and her past experience had left her too hurt to trust this man so easily.

But he could still have sat and eaten with her.

The dining table was long enough to seat her entire village, yet she was the only one there every meal time. There were staff around the walls, of course, but nobody to talk to, or even glare at across the table.

The first day, after she'd left him standing by the lake (she could have sworn that he'd said something but she was too far away to make it out), she'd gone back to the greenhouse, finding peace in the plants as she always had. Y/N had stayed there until someone had found her and told her it was time for dinner, and she was only a little disappointed to find that Nikolai wasn't there, but she should have expected it, really, given how she'd treated him earlier. She did feel bad about it, but she was hurt, and lashing out.

After eating, she had been on her way to her rooms to retire for the evening, but was distracted by the library on the way. The library in the Little Palace had been incredible, and she'd read everything in it at least twice, spending more time there than in her training sessions, but it had been somewhat restricted in its contents. This library, she found as she scanned the shelves, had far more interesting texts; there were some titles she recognised from Os Alta, but a great number of them seemed to be older, in different languages she could only barely read. Y/N frowned to herself, making a mental note to try and learn more of the languages, in case it helped with negotiations with other countries.

She'd then spent the next hour or so in there, brushing her fingers over the spines and occasionally selecting one from the shelves to take back to her room. When she'd eventually left, and headed out into the corridor, she'd caught a glimpse of Nikolai at the far end, fiddling with something in his hands. Curious, she followed him (at a distance, she didn't like to think how it would look if she were caught stalking him), and her curiosity only grew when he disappeared into his room, still fiddling with what looked like some sort of vial, and Tolya went in after him. The door locked behind him, and Y/N was left in the corridor with her stack of books to wonder what the hell had happened that Nikolai needed to talk to Tolya this late at night.

The second time she saw him was when she had gone for a walk the next day. The weather was nice, the sun shining over the grounds, and so she'd taken one of the books that she had collected the night before and gone outside. She'd been wandering close to the stables when she'd heard what sounded like metal clanging, so she'd walked a little closer. Her first thought was that a stable hand was helping a farrier shoe a horse; her second was that somebody had broken in to steal something.

Given her ideas on what she thought she would find, she naturally was shocked to see her husband, King Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka, lying on the floor in his shirt and trousers and covered in straw, fixing something on the underside of the carriage they had ridden in the day before. She felt like a schoolgirl looking at him, his shirtsleeves rolled up just past his elbows showing his forearms and blackened hands (that she assumed was oil, although it looked much darker than that), one of his suspenders slipping off of his shoulders and being yanked back every now and then. He had dirt on his cheek, and Y/N wondered if he knew, then had to fight off the thought that she should go and wipe it off. Shaking her head, she left quickly, gathering a mist to cool her flushed cheeks that she refused to properly acknowledge when asked if she was alright by a concerned staff member. Since then, she'd been stubbornly avoiding him, hoping that by putting some (extra) distance between them it would help reduce the number of times she thought about his arms.

On the third morning of the honeymoon, Y/N had awoken to the sun, frustrated at the thin curtains for allowing so much light in so early, then had reluctantly got out of bed and dressed herself. Heading down for breakfast, she was expecting to eat alone, as she had at every mealtime here so far. She was surprised, however, to see her husband sat at the other end of the table, looking exhausted yet scribbling notes like his life depended on it.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was loud in the quiet of the room, and although her shoes had clicked on the floor, she didn't think he'd actually heard her come in. Her suspicions were confirmed when his head snapped up so fast she thought he might break his neck.

"Oh, you're here! Uh, I was just... eating my breakfast. I'm not normally awake this early, so I thought I'd just come and eat with you?" His explanation was more of a question, as if he were hopeful she wouldn't turn him away. She could only stare at him, though, fixating on something.

"You're... not normally awake at this time?"

"Uh, yeah. I usually end up sleeping in, so..."

"Oh. Okay then." It was awkward after that, both of them refusing to meet the other's eyes. The only noises were his scribbling and their cutlery clinking as they both ate, and Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the staff positioned around the room would say afterwards. Most likely rumours would spread that the king and queen were fighting, or unhappy, or hadn't consummated the marriage (all of which were true, but nobody needed to know that), and then both of their reputations would fall apart, Ravka would become even more susceptible to attacks, and they could all lose everything.

When they had finished eating and were getting up to leave, she made a decision.

"Would you join me on a walk this morning? The weather is lovely and I would hate for you to miss it," she said, and she was immediately relieved when he nodded. Y/N didn't miss the way the staff looked at each other, or the hope in his eyes, and as soon as they were outside and away from prying eyes and ears she turned to him.

"I just wanted you to know I only asked you out here so that people wouldn't think something was wrong. I could tell they were already coming up with stories and I didn't want any rumours to spread that Ravka is weak or anything."

He was quiet for a moment, and he sounded almost deflated when he spoke.

"You're right, of course you are. Did you... did you have any plans for today?"

"Not really, although I don't really see why you care, you haven't been very involved in my daily plans lately." She knew it was unfair, but she was still hurt, and old memories had been dredged up from the back of her mind that she thought she'd never have to revisit, and it was making her lash out.

"I'm sorry. I could show you what I've been doing, if you like?" She nodded, letting him lead her away to a separate building she hadn't noticed before. It was nestled in the undergrowth, and she had a horrible moment where she thought he might be taking her here to kill her, but then they stepped inside and all thoughts of malicious intent left her head.

She was surrounded by machinery, work benches and storage cabinets overflowing with stuff, and projects that had been started but not yet finished were everywhere. The thing that really took her breath away, however, was the boat suspended in midair.

"So you build things?"

"Yes. I haven't had much time to do any of this recently, what with the war, becoming King, getting married. I'm sorry for not spending more time with you, I just figured you wouldn't want me around since I can't actually tell you why I left, so I came here. I've been working on a new model, one just for small travelling parties, but I can't quite get the-" He cut himself off when he saw her face, then said "Sorry. I'll stop boring you with this. I just thought you might want to see what I was doing."

"I- thank you. Really." She supposed she could try and be civil, since he was being respectful of her wishes. "If... if you don't want to tell me, that's fine, I just..." she sighed deeply, taking a risk and jumping in the deep end. "I've been left before, and I don't want to get close to you in case it happens again." She could feel his surprise at the fact that she'd shared the information, but her eyes were squeezed shut so that she couldn't see his reaction.

"I won't leave you, I swear. I know this isn't the most... ideal situation, but on a purely political level I need this marriage to work, and that won't happen if you hate me or if I leave. On a personal level? I would like you to have some sort of happiness in this marriage, given you didn't have much of a choice in it. So I swear I won't leave you, because I need you, and because Ravka needs you. Also you'd probably have to run the country on your own because you'd have killed me for leaving, so..." At some point his hands had landed on her arms, gentle enough that if she wanted to move away she could, and she had to blink back tears. His last comment had made her laugh a little, and now that her eyes were open she could see that he was smiling softly at her, hope in his eyes again.

"Alright. I can't promise that I'll be anything more than civil, though. I just... don't want to get too close in case I get hurt."

He nodded his agreement, exhaustion coming back from breakfast momentarily before he seemed to be so full of energy she thought he might be a power source himself.

"Why don't you show me around? I doubt I'll understand much of what you're saying, bu-" she was cut off as he practically dragged her over to a workbench, already explaining about three things at once and talking so fast she couldn't keep up.

Let's just hope this works, she thought. Or we could be in big trouble.

Y/N wasn't sure how long they'd spent in Nikolai's workshop, since they'd eaten in there when they got hungry (he had a cupboard filled with food, and she made a mental note to put one of those in her rooms when she got back to Os Alta), but she found herself thoroughly enjoying the time. They ate dinner together (sat at opposite ends of the table, but still), and the atmosphere was much less awkward than it had been that morning.

When Y/N decided to retire, Nikolai walked her to her rooms, her arm slipped through his. It seemed as though he really meant that he wouldn't leave unless she wanted him to, and the thought made her smile.

Maybe this won't be like before.

It was wishful thinking, she knew, but she had to hope that he was different, that all of this was different, even if it was only so that the two of them could help Ravka be rebuilt.

They reached her door, coming to a stop, and she took her arm out of his, one hand already on the handle.

"Thank you, for giving me a chance today, I really appreciate it. It must have been difficult for you to tell me about... that, so thank you," he said, voice quiet and, if she wasn't going deaf, a little shy? She nodded, hesitating slightly.

Before she could question what she was doing, she reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, immediately turning red and shoving open the door, muttering a "Good night," and practically slamming it in his face. Y/N pressed her back up against the door, gripping the handle for dear life as she tried to work out why, in the name of all the Saints, she had just kissed his cheek, when unbidden the memories of him in the stables fixing the carriage came back to her, and her face became even more red (although how that was possible, she wasn't sure, since her face felt like it was on fire).

Y/N only managed to get to sleep many hours later after chucking a jug of cold water over her head to try and get her out of her thoughts, and when she woke in the morning, she found that she was actually looking forward to the day, hopeful that Nikolai would be at breakfast when she got there.

He was, looking considerably more well rested than he had the day before, and they spent that day together too, and the next, and the next, and she was almost sad when their honeymoon came to an end and they had to return to the Grand Palace. He hadn't brought up the kiss she gave him which she was grateful for (and she hadn't done it since), and there hadn't been anything other than the occasional hand-holding and awkward hug, but they had talked, and learned a lot about each other. She sensed there was something more, since when she had brought up why he wore his gloves one evening he had stiffened and abruptly changed the subject, but she had softened up a little over the week, deciding that if she was allowed to have secrets then she couldn't fault him for keeping things from her either. She just hoped that in time, they would be comfortable enough around each other to share, and stop keeping each other in the dark.

The carriage ride home was a lot smoother, both conversation-wise and physically; whatever Nikolai had done (he had explained it, but it mostly went over her head) it had made the carriage jolt less on the smaller bumps, although every now and then a larger pothole would get the better of it and they'd go flying in their seats. The journey was short, but tiring enough that when they got back they ate their dinner and went straight to bed, Nikolai walking Y/N to her rooms as he had done every night since that first one.

The next morning was chaos, filled with reports and meetings and note-taking and people talking into her ear, and the rest of the day carried on like that. She needed no help getting to sleep that night, but found herself longing for the calm of her honeymoon, or even the Royal gardens. She'd had to finish planning for her coronation, too, which was only a couple of days away now.

Her last thought as she was drifting off into sleep was that the honeymoon wasn't as much of a disaster as she'd originally thought.

Chapter 5

#grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai x y/n #nikolai lanstov x y/n #king of scars

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dtabookclub · 1 year

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Q&A

What is Down To Agincourt (often abbreviated as DTA)?

An apocalyptic Destiel fanfic series set in the endverse universe. You can click here to access the series on AO3. Oh, and it's over a million words long (more on this later).

What's the book club and how can I join?

A discord server for anyone who is interested to read along and discuss the series. This is a google calendar link to the discussion timeline. Click here to join the discord if you are interested!

General rules and disclaimers about the server:

This is an adult space. Discussion of adult themes is allowed, but please be respectful (i.e. if someone requests a trigger warning, please be courteous). No racism, sexism, transphobia, antisemitism, ableism, or other form of discrimination is permitted. Please also know that I am reading this for the first time along with you, so i may not be able to provide content warnings ahead of time. If anyone is rereading with us and would be willing to do this, please reach out

How long is it again? How much time will this take me?

1,121,311 words (which is pretty long)! If you follow my schedule, you will be reading an average 11,000 words a day (exact numbers depends on chapter length), for 101 days. This is a similar pace to reading a book the same length as A Picture of Dorian Gray per week. Note that for the first two fics in the series, it's a bit higher (~14-15k per day), and lower for the third fic (~16k every two days) Another good frame of reference for word count would be the complete Potter series. (I am loath to even acknowledge JK, but this is a good way to put the length in perspective, as most people are familiar with the series). Of course, these examples are all different reading levels, and how long it takes will ultimately depend on your own reading speed

Can anyone join?

The fics in this series are rated mature to explicit, so I do ask that you do not join if you are under the age of 18. Since this will be my first time reading through as well, I am not familiar enough with the material to say whether it is suitable for minors. Other than that, pretty much anyone is welcome! You do not need to follow me or anyone else (though you might want to follow this blog for updates).

When does it start? What's the exact timeline?

The discussion for chapter one will start on May 22nd, and the final chapter will finish on August 30th. This gives people a little time to get the word out, or get a head start on reading! Discussion of each day's chapter can begin at 12 am eastern time. If google calendar does not work for anyone, please let me know! I would be happy to type it out as a list if needed

What if I fall behind? Or read ahead?

There will be separate channels for people who are behind schedule and ahead of schedule. Please make sure to read and follow the spoiler tagging guidelines when using these channels. (These will be pinned in each channel)

Are re-readers welcome?

Absolutely! In fact, it would be great to have some people who are already familiar with the series. For example, since it will be my first time reading through, I won't be able to provide content warnings for those who ask; if someone who has read the fics already would be willing to fill this role, I'm sure it would be appreciated. As long as you follow the spoiler rules, we're happy to have you!!! There is also a channel just for rereaders where you can discuss the entire series with no spoiler tagging required

I have a suggestion/idea/other question

great! Send me an ask on here or discord (and feel free to use anon if you are more comfortable with that) :)

#please understand that i have both never read this fic and rarely used discord so bear with me lol #anyway. Just this once i am going to use tags to hopefully help people find the post #down to agincourt #destiel

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babyboiboyega · 1 day

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Gekko Headcanons #1 : The Cookout

Pairing: Mateo De la Fuente/Gekko x Black!Gn!reader Headcanon: Taking Mateo to a family cookout would include... Content: fluff, profanity Word Count: 2.6k Author's Note: its been toooo long since I've written something, and of course my newest hyperfixation is the thing that gets me to write again LMAO gotta love it y'know? I am very new to the world of Valorant and this character, so please...if any of this seems ooc, kindly let me know. I'm still learning about him, I'm still feeling him out, but I just enjoy the character so much already. I also enjoyed writing this, so I hope y'all enjoy! <3 Tag list: @liyaawrites (aka, the person responsible for this obsession!!)

I wanna start off by saying that the second you mention taking Mateo to meet your family, the boy is geeked out of his mind. Maybe it's in passing during a conversation, or maybe you consciously bring up the topic once you feel it's the right time; either way, it’s met with wide, brown eyes that sparkle in excitement, and thick lips that part on an immediate agreement. Not only does an agreement follow, but he also immediately starts to ask what he should bring. What kind of get-together is it? Does he need to know anything beforehand? How does he need to dress, because he’ll be damned if he shows up underdressed when meeting the family of the person he loves. He only stops worrying when you tell him exactly what the function is – a cookout – and what he’s expected to bring – some dish that your mom/grandmother/auntie or other family member is requesting. And once those questions are answered, he goes straight to worrying about making sure it’s up to their standards. You have no idea why, but your family gives you and him the job of bringing the macaroni (and not any store-bought macaroni- they’ll know the difference). When he learns that it has to be homemade and that its a staple in the entire cookout, he instantly looks up recipes while thinking back to the ones his ma or abuela would use, wanting to put his own spin on it while also wanting to make a good first impression. It gets to the point where you find him up late one night, his phone’s screen illuminating his features from where he lays beside you. He’d turn his phone to you sheepishly, apologizing for the bright light and displaying a page called “how not to make macaroni and cheese” or something along those lines with a sheepish smile.

“Think they’ll like this one?” “Teo…baby…it’s 3 am.” “...you’re right, I should look for another one-”

The days leading up to the cookout are spent with him constantly going on about how excited he is to meet your family – specifically the cousins you’re the closest to and have mentioned before. In response, you warn him that your family can be…a bit much, specifically when someone brings their partner around. They have a tendency to ask too many questions, get a little too comfortable joking around, and are just all around loud and obnoxious sometimes…and he’d only reassure you with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow that not only is his family the same, but he’s so used to being around large families as his used to have get togethers all the time. He’s dealt with it before, and it'd be worth it to deal with it again if it meant he got to meet your folks. Despite the sentiments, you still warn him – especially of that aunt who always likes to make smart-ass comments and loves calling others out despite having her own problems in her life, to which he lets you know that he’s dealt with one of those and he’ll make sure that y’all are far away from that aunt at all times. He would offer to keep you dancing all night just so you had an excuse to not talk to that person, which would only lead to a conversation involving line dances.

Despite Mateo's affinity for the punk/skater aesthetic, I’d like to think that his Hispanic roots have resulted in him having a good sense of rhythm. I also like to think that he listens to a lot of music in his spare time, fostering an appreciation for different genres. With that being said, I think our boy could keep up with the line dances. When you offer to teach him a few just for fun, he’d be excited as hell, his lips curling into a full-blown smile as he’d watch you turn the music on and scroll through the first ‘cookout line dance’ playlist you find. When you find a suitable one and try to teach him, he’d be playful about the entire thing, claiming that he needs you to do it a few times although you know its just so he can see you dance, his eyes lingering heavily on your hips as you do so. And when you finally get him to join you, you realize that he may not have the steps down, but he’s got enough swag and rhythm to keep up and look like he knows what he’s doing, which is enough.

“One more time, princesa- I promise. I’ll get it this time.” “You’re just looking at my ass, Mateo-” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” (with a shit eating grin on his face)

Now…when it gets to the day of the cookout, you two would be up pretty early, going to get the supplies to make the macaroni before starting on it at home. He’d want to help so badly, but he’d also have no problem getting your input on it – after all, it is your family and you know how they usually like their macaroni. But he’d also insist on doing most of it himself which would result in about a few hours of him moving around the kitchen with a focused look on his face. His focus is only broken by you checking in on him, it instantly changing to a cocky, yet playful, smirk as he would nod to the pan that’s in the oven.

“How’s it goin, baby?” “Look at that masterpiece and tell me how it’s goin, mi carino. You see that golden brown on the top, you smell that delicious, scrumptious, decadent-” “Aaaalright, that’s enough-”

You know I have to mention the process of picking out outfits. I absolutely believe that Mateo would not only be down for, but would love being one of those couples that wears complimenting outfits. Not matching completely, but maybe having one article of clothing that’s the same color or maybe even wearing the same accessories. You two have too much personality and style to limit yourselves to wearing the exact same thing when going out, so he would love to wear complimenting outfits. He’d always make sure to pick colors that you enjoy wearing despite thinking that you look beautiful in every color.

“What about green?” “Oh…well…you know I don’t exactly look the best in green, baby.” “I wholeheartedly disagree, but we can look for something else, mi amor. No problem-”

I think that he’d be so invested in making sure y’all look good that he’d kind of forget about the macaroni that's in the oven. You can’t even blame him, because you’d be able to see the excitement radiating off of him as he gets ready, so you’d just gently, but amusedly, remind him.

“Teo.” “Yeah?” “Your macaroni-” “Mierda- my macaroni-!”

His attention would instantly switch to the macaroni, so much so that he’d still be standing in the kitchen, his eyes on the oven when you walk in fully dressed with Wingman trailing behind you, Mateo’s shirt in his beak as he chirps and trills. You wouldn’t be able to understand him, but you don’t really have to to understand the comedic radivore’s noises. You’d only be able to nod and agree with the little guy as you both watch Mateo hurriedly throw on his shirt before taking out the macaroni.

Now…lets get to the cookout itself. He’d hear the music and chatter immediately after stepping out of the car and would just look at you with a smile and excited eyes, offering to take the dish with one hand and your hand with the other. You’d be able to see that recognition in his eyes, the myriad of sounds that signify a family fellowship being ever so familiar to him. Homeboy would walk in the door with a wide and inviting smile, greeting people politely while also showing that he can be rather extroverted when he wants to be. Of course, he gets the typical ‘this must be yo lil friend’ from your family members, but he takes it in stride. But while taking it all in stride, he’d also make sure to kiss your cheek, your forehead, hold your hand, wrap an arm around your waist– anything to show that the words ‘lil friend’ are just a title your family members have given him, and that the truth is he’s yours.

He’d show the macaroni to the family member(s) in charge of the food, watching with baited breath as they take the foil off of the top, their eyes looking at the golden-brown cheese on top before looking up at you two with a smile.

“Oooh, this looks good, Y/N.” “Actually, Mateo made it. I just helped him when he needed it; it was all him.”

He’d absolutely be geeked when they turn to him with an impressed look, their smile widening as they set it on the table with the rest of the food. And if you thought he had a big head when being told that it looked good, it’s nothing compared to when the first family member comes up and tells him that it tasted good. Chile, you’d never hear the end of it…though you don’t want to. It’d be endearing and sweet that he takes so much pride in making something your family enjoys. And when it comes to him actually eating the food prepared, he would not hold his appreciation back. There’d be a lot of ‘who made this’, followed by just as many ‘dios mio’s as he can dish out. The same goes for the dessert portion, especially the homemade pound cakes from your family members. Yeah, he’d have no problem asking for a to-go box; one for food, and one for dessert.

Throughout the duration of the cookout, he’d find himself constantly in conversation with someone from your family, whether it be because he had been pulled into a conversation, or whether it was because someone approached him with the intent of asking questions. Either way, Mateo would be game for any question asked, usually answering with an air of confidence, friendliness, and humor that made others love him instantly. When asked questions about you two’s relationship, he’d be quick and incredibly willing to answer, his eyes glancing at you adoringly as he does so with a smile on his face. It’d get to a point where you would have to ‘rescue’ him from more questions, citing that you wanted to dance just to get him away from your family member(s). And he’d happily let you pull him away, however, not before promising the uncles gathered around a table that he’d play spades with them the next round.

At some point in the night, you’d lose him for a few minutes, coming back to his empty seat after fixing a plate of dessert for both of you, and after scouring the yard, hoping that he hasn’t gotten himself into a less than pleasant conversation, you finally find him. Except he isn’t in a conversation- not with an adult, anyway. No, he’s seated in the yard, not too far at all from the kids table, smiling widely as the kids from your family gather around him. Their hands reach for and gently run over his hair, the dyed shapes and colors instantly catching their attention as they speak over each other, asking him questions.

“Why’d you do that to your hair?” “Did it hurt? Why’d you pick spots?” “My mama says people who dye their hair like that don’t want a job.” “Can I do that to my hair?”

You’d only be able to watch in fondness for a few minutes as he struggles to answer their questions, his facial expression showing exactly how much he enjoyed being the center of attention for the kids. It would get to a point where he’d look up at you with an expression that screamed for help despite the smile still on his face, and you wouldn’t hesitate in rescuing him. You’d never seen Mateo around kids before now, but going off of the vibes and interactions you’d see, it’d be easy to come to the conclusion that he’s pretty okay with kids. Because of his chill demeanor, not only is he seen as ‘cool’ to the youngins, but he’s also easy to interact with. It would certainly help that he’s got a little crew of adorable creatures who are intelligent enough to interact carefully with the kids. There’d be peels of laughter and excited chatter as Wingman does a trick when prompted by Mateo. There’d also be a time where Wingman turns to Mateo, chirping quickly and constantly looking back at the kids…and after a short conversation between the two, he’d probably smile, nodding his head towards the kids with a ‘have fun, be careful’. That’d be the only thing Wingman needs to hear before turning and joining the group of kids in their activities, the laughter being a constant noise as long as the creature is interacting with them.

When it gets to the end of the night and people start filtering out of the yard, he’d check in with you, asking you if you’re tired or if you still want to hang around with a look of understanding for whatever answer you give. It's only when you smile tiredly and sheepishly at him that he’d nod with a smile, telling you that maybe it's time to go. It wouldn’t be long before you two have a bag with your to-go boxes in them, making your rounds with your family members and saying goodnight. He’d leave Wingman to play with the remaining kids until it’d be time to go, waving him over once you two are ready to leave. (You can’t help but feel like you two have your own little family, and the earlier sight of him interacting with the kids certainly adds fuel to that thought).

The ride home would be spent going over certain conversations and interactions that had happened during the night, showing just how attentive Mateo had been the entire night. You’d also learn of some of the conversations he’d had when you weren’t around…and he’d instantly wave away your apologies for the nature of those conversations, an easygoing and amused smile on his face as he does so.

“Please tell me she did not say that to you- I’m so sorry, love-” “No need to say sorry. It was pretty funny, so its okay, mi cielito. So…you tried to turn the speed all the way up on the treadmill, yeah?” “Yeah, that’s enough of that-”

To put it simply: Mateo would be ecstatic that he not only got to spend an entire day with you and your family, but that he got to see how you interact with your family. It’s truly nothing like seeing the love of your life in their safe space with people they trust. He could’ve sat and watched you speak to cousins, aunties, uncles, whoever else and would’ve been completely satisfied. He’d go to bed thinking about the glow you had on your face as you spoke to family members you’d missed, and how he’d heard and seen you genuinely laugh with cousins when recounting old stories, and how you and your family connected over food, music, and fellowship...and yeah, he’d have to admit to himself in the middle of the night, while holding you close, that he couldn’t wait to have that with you in the future.

A/N: I hope that was fun to read, it was certainly fun to write! Once again, this is my first time writing for this character that I just found out about like...two weeks ago, y'all...be patient with me while I'm learning. BUT I'm gonna really try to write more this summer because I definitely won't have time to in the fall, so keep an eye out!

#gekko #gekko valorant #gekko x reader #gekko x you #valorant #valorant gekko #Mateo Armendáriz De la Fuente #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #gekko oneshot #gekko headcanons #gekko fanfic #gekko oneshots #valorant headcanons #valorant oneshots #valorant fanfiction #black authors #black fanartists

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writeforfandoms · 2 years

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Burn It Down

Find my masterlist

Guys this one is heavy. Read the warnings. Then read them again. Seriously. Take care of yourselves. If you need more info on any of the warnings just let me know.

Also, not using my typical tag list due to content, just tagging a few people who expressed interest.

Warnings: past sexual assault (not graphic) (some details but nothing explicit), nightmare, panic attack, brief unintended self-harm, hurt some comfort, body issues, some trouble distinguishing reality from dreams/memory.

Word count: 2.1k

Did you read the warnings? Twice? I'm gonna assume you have by now. You've been warned.

You woke to total darkness, a gasp strangled in your throat, your heart pounding. You were warm, too warm, someone pressed up behind you. This time, the gasp didn't stay lodged, breaking free wet and as quiet as you could manage.

It took only a moment to sit up, still in pure darkness. But where, exactly? Your breathing quickened when your muddled mind couldn't remind you right away.

A hand landed on your hip, over one of the phantom touches still plaguing you, and a sleep-rasped voice murmured, "Dinui?"

You didn't answer, couldn't answer past the lodge in your throat, merely ripped yourself away from him. Your skin crawled, prickling with the memory of hands grabbing you, holding you, forcing you still. You fell off the cot to the floor, landing hard on the cool metal. Pain bloomed from your knees and the hand that mostly caught you, but you didn't care. You scrambled away, breathing still fast and panicked, until your back was to a wall.

A light flicked on overhead, so suddenly you flinched. But it finally gave you a chance to orient yourself.

You were in the hold of the Crest. Din was still in the cot the two of you shared most nights, helmetless, hair sticking up every which way. But he was coiled, tense, eyes alert and scanning you for the source of your distress.

"Dinui?" He asked again, sounding much more aware now. He slid out of the cot, and you flinched. He froze. "What happened?"

You swallowed hard, twice. Speaking was too hard so you shook your head, gaze darting around. You knew the hold, you knew where the ladder up to the cockpit was. You weren't actually trapped.

But even the cold of the metal seeping through your sleep clothes barely made a dent in the feeling of those hands on you. You could practically still hear his voice in your ears, just behind your head as he told you what he was going to do to you. Relishing in your horror.

You jerked your head back against your assailant… only to smack straight into the hard metal wall. Stars burst in your eyes as tears sprang up from the sudden pain.

"Hey!" Din took a step forward and only stopped when you scuttled sideways, away from him. "Dinui, please. Tell me what is going on." The strain was plain in his face and voice, gaze flickering over you desperately, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.

You shivered and shook your head again. You couldn't think, could barely breathe. Everything wavered just a little, and if you weren't already sitting you had a feeling you would have fallen.

"Breathe with me," Din instructed, voice gentled a little from his bounty hunter voice but still authoritative. His voice was different from the one stuck in your head, deeper and raspier and infinitely more reassuring.

You drew in a stuttering breath, still feeling like your lungs wouldn't work. But you tried. You gripped your own arms tightly, barely even feeling the pressure of your nails as you forced yourself to breathe.

"Good." Din dropped his voice lower, even as he slowly lowered himself to sit. He was a little closer, somehow, but not so close that he set off your fight or flight again. "That's good, dinui. Keep doing that, keep breathing."

His words sort of blurred out into a comforting rumble in your ears as you forced your lungs to cooperate. Breathe in. Pause, if you could. Breathe out. Don't just whoosh all your air out at once. Breathe.

As breathing became easier and you felt more present in the moment, you lifted your gaze to Din again. He looked… you didn't have the words. He was trying to be stoic, you could tell. Could see him fighting to keep from frowning, but there was such pain in his eyes.

"Dinui?" He chanced. His fingers twitched, an aborted movement towards you. "Are you…?" He trailed off, clearly unsure how to finish that sentence.

Your laugh was short and hollow. "Just stay over there," you got out, exhausted. Words were hard.

Silence fell for several seconds as you tried to breathe and wrestle your brain fully out of the nightmare and back into the present.

A soft call of your name had your eyes snapping back open. When had you closed them? Din looked worried, brow furrowed, leaning forward though he hadn't actually moved any closer.

"Please, sweetheart, I need to… let me check your head. You might have a concussion." He shifted closer, just by a few inches.

And you flinched away as if he'd done something much more violent. "Don't."

He froze at your tone, eyes going wide at the mingled panic and steel. Slowly, he leaned back again, a painful twist to his lips.

Your breathing stuttered again with the knowledge that you had caused that. You had put that pain there. You swallowed down your self-recrimination, your remorse, your fury. That was for later.

"I can't… you can't touch me. Right now." The words felt like barbed wire coming up your throat, scraping you raw, leaving you even more vulnerable.

Confusion and then understanding flashed across his face, quickly overshadowed by his own brand of quiet protective fury. "Nightmare?" He asked softly, careful to keep his voice even.

"Yes." You let out your breath slowly. "I was dreaming about…" you trailed off. You couldn't say it. Couldn't say his name.

"Shh, I know." Din shifted restlessly. "What can I do?"

That was too big a question. You could barely think, between the panic still threatening to choke you if you gave an inch, the pain radiating from the back of your head, and the ache and clench of your heart. You made a helpless motion, shaking your head. Too big. Too much, and not enough.

Din blew out a breath, leaning back and surveying the hold. "I'll bring you some water," he said finally. "And I'll make caf for both of us."

You choked on an almost-laugh. "It's gotta be the middle of the night," you protested. "You should go back to sleep."

"You need me more." Din rose, all coiled grace even as his knees popped. He strode away from you to the small food prep area.

Which, ironically, just made you worse. Your heart started to race again, your palms sweating, and you bit the inside of your lip hard to hold back a panicked noise.

A high-pitched, strangled whine escaped, despite your best efforts. Din's curly head poked out where you could see him again.

"Do you need me to come over?" The question was tentative.

You shook your head violently and then closed your eyes tight when that just exacerbated the throbbing in your skull. Ow. Fuck.

"I'll have your water in just a moment." Looking more concerned than you could readily recall seeing, Din vanished from view again.

You screwed your eyes tightly shut, clenching your fists and trying to count your breathing. You'd picked up the habit somewhere, but couldn't actually remember where.

A gentle clang caught your attention, and you opened your eyes to see a canteen resting right at your feet. Din was back in sight, lowering himself to sit in the same place as before.

The knot in your chest loosened, at least enough for you to grab the canteen with shaking hands.

"It's alright, dinui," Din murmured soothingly. "You're safe here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

You knew that. You believed that. You had since the first time he'd told you. And you had always been safe in the ship.

You took a deep breath, heart slowly calming. You drank some water. You sat up straighter, no longer huddled into the side of the ship, finally more engaged.

"There you are," Din murmured with no small amount of relief. There was still tension around his eyes but he smiled, just a little. For you.

"Sorry," you rasped. You took a drink of water, fingers shaking more from exhaustion now. "That was…"

"Bad," Din agreed. He shifted restlessly. "Can I come over there?"

You frowned a little as you checked in yourself. The thought of being touched still made you shudder in horror, but this was Din. Din who had never hurt you. Who respected your boundaries. Who you loved and trusted.

"Just… don't touch me yet." You looked down at the floor, shame washing over you hot and fast, tears pricking the corners of your eyes again.

"Okay." Din carefully slid across the floor to sit next to you, keeping a few inches of space between you. "Do you… want to talk…?"

"Kriff no," you choked out, almost laughing. "Definitely not."

Din chuffed an almost-laugh of his own and relaxed back against the wall. He stretched his legs out in front of him, folding his hands over his belly. "I wish you would tell me his name," he said, faux-casual.

"So you could hunt him down?" The question was sarcastic, not meant to be entirely serious.

"Yes." Din's fingers flexed restlessly.

Your gaze flew to his face, shocked. But he was completely serious, holding your gaze steadily.

"I don't…" You sighed softly, your own fingers twitching against the warring feelings of wanting to touch him, and the feeling that you would sooner claw your skin off than be touched. "It was a long time ago, Din."

"Hmm." Watching you carefully, he set one of his hands palm-up on his thigh. And left it there. An open invitation for you. "What happened?"

You took a couple deep breaths and fiddled with the canteen, anxiously twisting and unwitting the cap. "I… dreamed about him. About the… that night." You swallowed hard, unable to look at Din as you spoke. It was easier to talk down to your feet - which actually looked pretty dry. Huh. Oops. "Was a mix of memory and, uh, what could have been, I suppose."

Silence fell between the two of you as you tried not to slide back into that panic. Din, probably, was contemplating murder.

"How can I help?"

His voice pulled you back from some of the darker moments of your nightmare, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on the present again. "Honestly, not sure." You huffed, falling short of amusement and landing on bitter. "I used to just down caf and work and not sleep for a day or two."

He murmured your name, pained and mildly scolding. "I do have caf," he offered. "We've still got hours until we drop out of hyperdrive, though."

You drew in a shaky breath. You knew that. There was nowhere to go right now, just the ship. Just you and Din.

"Let's start with caf," you decided. You shifted your weight to get up and winced, looking down at your knees. Well. You'd almost certainly bruise.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I'm okay." You took a deep breath and stood. Your head throbbed angrily, and you swayed a little. Din hovered next to you, hands out, ready to catch you if you needed it. But he didn't touch you.

Unexpected tears pricked your eyes again. You loved this man so much, it was a little ridiculous.

With one last deep breath in, you nodded carefully to him. "Caf first. And then… can you check my head without… without touching me?"

"I will try."

You followed him to get caf, and then took your caf up into the cockpit. The streaking stars overhead illuminated the space, more soothing to your frayed nerves than the lights in the hold.

It took only a moment to settle in your normal seat, and you started to relax with the first sip. Din joined you quietly, sitting in the pilot's seat and sipping his own caf. He was very good about not watching you, taking only glimpses.

"I'm feeling better," you told him quietly. "I'm sorry for the monumental freak out."

"None of that," he scolded lightly. "It is not your fault."

"But–"

"It is not your fault," he repeated firmly. "None of it. You don't need to apologize."

You drew in a deep breath and nodded. You drank your caf, letting the quiet calm of the stars fill you.

You were okay. It had just been a nightmare. Nothing had happened. You were with Din. Din was safe, always.

After some period of time, you moved to let Din examine your head. As promised, he didn’t touch you. Just looked you over.

You eased back into your seat. Looked back up at the stars.

And didn't even realize you'd fallen asleep again until the ship dropped out of hyperdrive and Din took over piloting. He hadn't moved from his seat, and hadn't moved you.

You hadn't dreamed at all, that time.

Taglist: @beecastle @green-socks @quica-quica-quica

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mind the warnings

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tbb-appreciation-week · 1 year

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Welcome to The Bad Batch Appreciation Week 2023!!!

The time for appreciating Clone Force 99 is near! The prompts have been revealed HERE, so we must set some rules. Seems fair, right? So, here they are:

Event Info & Rules

TBB APPRECIATION WEEK is a week-long, prompt-based creation challenge to celebrate our love for the Batchers and the show. There are 7 groups of prompts—one for each day of the week—, which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to be an inspiration without being taken literally (i.e., you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts in your work). Feel free to interpret them at your convenience. For example, if the prompt is “anooba”, you can create either something about the animal, use it as a name/mascot of a sports team in your modern-day/our Earth AU, or as an analogy for someone with a voracious appetite. It’s up to you.

Each group contains a character plus 5 different prompts (SFW, AU/Trope, Dialogue, NSFW, and a color palette). As it says above, you can use any, some, or all of them. Also there's also a short list of jokers/alternatives that you can use only one time each to replace any of the main prompts. The idea is to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible. The participants can create works in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, art, edits, gifs, videos, playlists, cosplays, etc. The only restriction is that it needs to be focused on The Bad Batch.

Also, people can participate as much or as little as they want, meaning that you don’t have to do ALL the days if you can't/ don’t want to.

Collaborations are welcome and even encouraged. For example, if an artist and a writer want to work together, or a writer and a podficcer, or two writers, go for it!

When uploading TBB Appreciation Week content to your Tumblr blog, be sure to mention this blog and add the following hashtags:

#tbbaw2023

#the character of the day

#day 1, #day 2, #day 3, etc… (the corresponding day)

#medium (gifset, fic, podcast, fanart, etc.)

#trigger warnings, if applies. (Please do NOT to add “tw” in front or at the end but only use the word/trigger itself, because the way Tumblr tag blocker feature works, it makes it harder for people to block the right tag.) (List of trigger warnings)

#prompt(s) used

#nsfw (only for NSFW content)

#any other relevant tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING (both by mentioning the blog and putting the necessary tags). That'll ensure that your post will be reblogged on this blog.

I'll do my best to reblogged everyone's posts, but if it passes 2–3 days and I haven't posted yours, please let me know.

In addition, you can also add your work to the Ao3 Collection if you want.

If you are posting NSFW fics or art on Tumblr, I ask that you use the Keep Reading break and/or the Community Labels to hide the NSFW portion of your work; and please, give the proper warnings; (If you don't know how to do a keep reading break on mobile, go to this tutorial). On Ao3, please, use the correct rating and warnings as well.

There won't be censorship in this event, so everyone is free to create whatever they want. Participants are expected to hold judgment to themselves of others and their works, even if they don't agree with or find it repulsive. That means that harassment of anyone or anything that they post (even if said work is something you personally find morally reprehensible) WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Anyone that breaks this rule will be banned from the event. Curate your own experience by blocking what upsets/squicks/triggers you, and leave everyone else alone. That's the importance of the correct tagging, as it says above.

If an author or artist has asked for constructive criticism, you may give it (with constructive being the keyword). However, refrain to give any of the unsolicited kind, as it can be discouraging for the author or artist.

Important!! Show support to other participants by liking, reblogging, AND commenting. But most of all, HAVE FUN!!! This is meant to be a lay-back event to show love for our favorite characters.

I'm looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

If you have questions, you can check out the F.A.Q post. But if you don't find there the answer you're looking for, send me a message to the ask box or a DM, either in this blog or my fandom blog @nimata-beroya.

Thanks for reading, and happy creating!

#tbbaw2023 #the bad batch appreciation week 2023 #event info #tbb #the bad batch

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enkhanthor · 1 year

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LEGACY HISTORY CHALLENGE

Hey guys! Welcome to my Simblr!!!

*Note: English isn't my mother language and I’m not an expert in idiomatic expression. So if you find any errors or something weird, please forgive me and let me know on “ask me” if you want.

Tradução em português aqui.

LHC Doc - EN/US

LHC Doc - PT/BR

INTRODUCTION

The Legacy History Challenge is a Sims 4 challenge based on the Legacy Challenge, History Challenge, and Ultimate Decades Challenge that takes your Founder Sim and descendants on a tour of Sim history, from Prehistory to the 2030s, whose events parallel human history. I dare say that this is the most complete, longest and ambitious challenge of The Sims ever done, because even narrowing down the ancient history, it should cover almost 500 Sim years (the year of the game), all expansions and game packs, completing all the achievements and adding other known challenges. At some point along this challenge I intend to incorporate and adapt The Amazon Challenge, The Great British Challenge, Ultimate Decades Challenge, Decades Challenge, Trash to Luxury Hardcore, Not Enough Human, Black Widow Challenge, Asylum Challenge, Bunker Challenge, Seven Babies Challenge, among others.

GOALS

The main goal of the Legacy History Challenge is to build a genealogical legacy from prehistory to the present day based on human history and complete all the achievements of The Sims 4. To do so, each Age has its own specific goals and rules.

REQUIREMENTS

LHC is designed to play with different ethnicities over time and different types of gameplay, including various packs and expansions. In the rules for each Age there is a topic where I detail which expansions and packages are required and optional. If you don't have the expansion or core pack, you'll have to adapt your game.

This challenge also requires the use of mods and custom content for complete immersion in the Age being played. The main mods I use are listed in the rules for each Age, and you can also check out my Custom Content inventory. I'm always updating. Remembering, I don't host, I just direct the links. The inventory also breaks down ccs by creators. So for broken links you should go after the original creators. This video can also help repair objects broken by updates. If you are a creator and I have mistakenly listed your content as someone else's, please let me know.

RECOMENDATIONS

I recommend recording your challenge progression through a spreadsheet and family tree. This will facilitate the organization and control of your game and allow the preservation of memory, bringing a sense of satisfaction and reward at the end. The spreadsheet I created is based on Morbid Gamer's spreadsheet for the Ultimate Decades Challenge with some modifications, such as adding a Calendar, Human Chronology Events, suggested baby names and a tag for each Sim. I control every Sim in the world through the MC Command Center. I know when they are born, grow and die through notifications, but you can choose to use it only for your family/group.

You can download my spreadsheet here, updated in September 2023. This table is always being updated with new information. At the end, you can access it in the driver or download and copy and paste the new information into your table as the original table is updated.

I also recommend that you save a new game before each drastic modification in the game (a Sim aged up, for example) and always have a backup on an external HD organized by Ages folders. At the start of each Age you can delete old saves and NPCS ghost Sims from your game. This way, your game won't be so heavy and you'll always have a backup of the old Ages in case you need it.

TRIGGER WARNING

This challenge is based on the narrative of Western world history. I learned history at school from a Eurocentric view of the world and I also don't feel comfortable talking or creating stories about experiences I don't have (the place of speech) or about something I don't know. However, I am doing research to include different ethnicities and locations.

Being based on Western world history also means that your Sim will often be prejudiced, sexist, slave-owning, violent, and will commit or be subject to numerous atrocities. You won't always have complete freedom to choose your ethnicity. Of course, you can ignore this and adapt the LHC in your own way, but keep in mind that it will no longer be historic. (I'm thinking of another type of challenge for those who would like to play more freely that also involves historical progression and I'll release the rules soon).

In this challenge, miscarriages, deaths in childbirth, deaths of babies and children can also occur, as well as population control events that involve the death of Sims in the world, which can make the player uncomfortable. Moreover, this challenge incorporates the 100 Baby Challenge. There will be many children being born, as the chance of them dying in the early stages of life is very high. So if you don't like the little ones crying or the time wasted taking care of them, playing the LHC can be a little torture.

ORIGINS AND INSPIRATIONS

When I started this challenge I wanted to play the History Challenge, but some of the rules just didn't make sense. Why bother raising money in prehistory when there were no coins yet? And how does your Sim have a yoga mat when they should be busy with more important things? Really, a yoga mat? So these rules needed to be changed. Another Challenge that I really like is the Decades Challenge by ZombieCleo. My original intention was to adapt to the two challenges.

So I was looking for Decades Challenge gameplay when I found Morbid Gamer on youtube playing the Ultimate Decades Challenge. At the time, she was playing at 1550, with death rolls, particular life stage duration, and a spreadsheet. It was all fascinating. But not everything that works for the Ultimate Decades Challenge works for the Legacy History Challenge. How to play more than 10 thousand years considering each year as 4 Sim days? Well, I think I found a solution for that. I'm also always watching other creators and how they play their challenges. Marina Montenegro has perfected the History Challenge through its Legacy Eras Challenge, Severalperson is adapting the Ultimate Decades Challenge for multiple countries, and Ermersed Crown has a unique way of adding plot and drama, taking the player on a journey through British history. And they all have really good ideas that can be incorporated.

The sources used in the construction of the challenge are often romanticized and don’t have complete historical accuracy (Even the sources of the History Channel). This is what happens with The Tudors and Vikings series, for example. In this case, they were mentioned just because it is the closest we have to a vision of the described period. However, I'm making sure to make the necessary corrections to the rules so that they are reliable. These corrections are based on books by real historians like André Leroi-Gourhan and Georges Duby. I also make many references to A Song of Ice and Fire, since even though it is a fantasy book, the author is based on the real world to create the narratives and the political scenario always stands out, leaving the fantastic elements in the background.

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE LHC AND THE HISTORY CHALLENGE

Legacy History Challenge is slower and harder than History Challenge, I would even say hardcore. HC uses financial objectives and goals and a scoring system. LHC focuses on maximum historical accuracy and the gradual progression of the Ages. HC usually starts with a couple of Sims that are Generation 0 and from their heir each generation counts as an Age. LHC starts with a Founder Sim, the Legacy Matriarch, she has age, traits, aspiration and specific goals and her lineage must continue through several generations to present times. Each Age has a suggested gameplay, duration, number of generations, and Sim lifespan, which the player can adapt as they see fit. The more you follow the gameplay guidelines, the greater your immersion in the historical period covered. The LHC is genealogical, which means you only lose the challenge if for some reason your Matriarch and all of her descendants die in the game. While the HC is hard for a Sim to die, the LHC incorporates death rolls, meaning all your Sims rely on luck to survive. At the LHC, you don't change heirs every generation. When an heir is chosen you must play with him until his death and fulfill the aspirations and tasks assigned to him. Heirs cannot be removed from homes, even if they are elderly and their children are marrying and having children of their own.

After July 2023 update, the LHC incorporates an optional Age called Genesis, where you start with a couple and can complete the Genesis Challenge which consists of populating the world of The Sims with a descendant of your legacy in each house. Within the LHC this challenge can be completed across all played Ages and is based on mythology rather than history. In this case, the couple would be Generation 0 and the Founder Sim must be one of their daughters. Those who play with the Original Age - Genesis will be able to experience a challenge closer to the original HC of cloudseeker, but maintaining all the rules and Ages of the LHC.

THE FOUNDER SIM AND THE PRECURSORS

As stated, the Founder Sim must be a female and the original Matriarch of her family. She is the most important Sim in Legacy. As the daughter of the original precursor couple (if you play Original Age - Genesis) she doesn't participate in the dice roll. Let's consider that by luck of fate (or grace of The Watcher) this Sim managed to reach old age (which in the standard normal playing time of EA games and in prehistoric life expectancy meant about 30 years). Now her descendants have a chance to survive to the present day. It is important that you think about what physical characteristics you will give your Matriarch, as her descendants will be able to carry them in the future. I, for example, made my first Matriarch with very thick lips. I thought it looked beautiful on her, but on some of her descendants it was a little strange. Her name was Eva, she lived in the Costwolds in Prehistoric England (Henford-on-Bagley) and her look was inspired by the game Horizon Zero Dawn. As I initially ignored that Cro-Magnons had darker skin than modern Europeans, I decided to remake her and restart the challenge.

That was before I thought of adding the Original Age - Genesis to the challenge, which I am currently departing from. Below are the Precursor Sims, the founders of the Original Age - Genesis, Adamah and Hawah, created from the genetics of the new Eve with some modifications. I wanted them to look like Hebrews, but I'm not that good at creating Sims from existing models, nor do I know the genetics of that population very well. So I made them a skin tone darker than a European and lighter than a Cro-Magnon, Egyptian or Sumerian.

SIM CALENDAR

The game year has 28 days with four weeks of 7 days each. I like to play the time of the seasons in 7 days so that each year closes a cycle. Just like in Game of Thrones, here the seasons last for years. So I created a Sim Calendar based on that.

The letters P, V, O and I are abbreviations for Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter (Primavera, Verão, Outono and Inverno in Portuguese). Instead of the days week names, we have numbers. 1 is Sunday, 2 is Monday, 3 is Tuesday, 4 is Wednesday, 5 is Thursday, 6 is Friday, and 7 is Saturday. The first number in front is equivalent to Sim Year. So this is Sim Year 1. In this logic 7p4 would be the spring Wednesday of Sim Year 7 and 25v3 would be the Summer Tuesday of Sim Year 25. I put colors that remember the seasons for easy identification. Pink for spring, yellow for summer, orange for autumn, and blue ice for winter.

In prehistory, before the invention of writing, there was no calendar. So in the Original Age - Genesis I named the days G1, G2, G3 and so on. The days played in the Paleolithic I named P1, P2, P3, P4, P5 and so on. In the Paleolithic the world is always frozen, so the color is blue ice. In the Mesolithic, the seasons last 15 days, the climate is changing, I named the days M1, M2, M3, M4, M5 and so on. In the Neolithic the climate is stabilized and the year has four well-defined seasons. I named the days in the Neolithic N1, N2, N3, N4, N5 and so on. You may notice from the spreadsheet that my calendar starts in G1 and the Original Age - Genesis lasts exactly 2 Sim years. The decade goes through the Paleolithic for 4 Sim years, Mesolithic for 2 Sim years and ends the Neolithic with another 2 Sim years. From the second decade, the first year begins with the official calendar on day 1p1. In my test this count of days was well adapted to the gameplay, but you don't have to follow it strictly. In the LHC rules there is a suggestion of time to play in each phase, but in this period when there was no time control (at least as far as we know), the challenge gives you more freedom to play as you feel more comfortable. However, I advise you to start the Sim calendar on the first day of the second decade and adapt the first decade between Genesis, Paleolithic, Mesolithic and Neolithic, organizing the duration of each of these periods into Sim days as you see fit. This will ensure a minimum of organization.

Around the year 3500 BC there were already traces of a proto-script in Mesopotamia. From then on I set the Early Simvilization and the calendar at Sim Year 1, where each Sim Day is equivalent to 1 human year. Thus, events in the Sim world in antiquity will be faster than in human history. I think this is too long a period of time to play on a closer to real scale and there aren't as many recorded events and changes in fashion (as far as we know) as there are from the Middle Ages to present times, which could leave the game monotonous. The Bible, Chinese legends, and the Sumerian King List suggest that ancient men lived for hundreds of years. At this point I have taken the liberty of adopting this conception. So, consider that your Prehistoric Sims lived thousands of years and ancient Sims lived longer than current Sims. This is in relation to events and not to life expectancy, of course. In other words, during antiquity Sims had a faster technological and intellectual development than humans.

In the 100th Sim Year (Year 700 BC) I changed the calendar, so that each year is equivalent to 4 Sim Days as in the Ultimate Decades Challenge. In the game, each Sim Day equals one trimester (considering the Sim's gestation). So 4 Sims Days would be equivalent to 1 year. (Pregnancy actually lasts 4 days: 1 day without finding out, 1 day in the first trimester, 1 day in the second trimester and 1 extra day in the third trimester until the water breaks, but we have an illusion that it's only 3 days). But why did I make this change only in the year 700 BC? Good question! I don't know, I thought it should be time to do that, that it should already have historical records and more interesting events every year, since it's closer to the Classical Age. Aquilus Acta playing The Syderis Legacy in Ultimate Decades Challenge mode a century earlier in Sparta also excites me. Counting each year as 4 Sim days, from 700 BC onwards, in 100 Sim years one arrives at Gregorian year 1, which makes the calendar organized. This is also in the testing phase, I can change the calendar before or after that date. You can also adapt the challenge as you see fit, these are just suggestions.

SIM LIFETIME

As established, 1 Sim Day equals 3 months and 4 Sim Days equals 1 human year. If you notice, the lifespan of the Sim, in normal mode, isn’t equivalent to human life. Considering the duration of EA life stages, at age 29 your Sim would already be an elderly person and would die around age 33:

This may even be valid for prehistory, I've seen some professors saying that in prehistory people lived to be 30 years old and we have nothing written to prove the opposite. But it doesn't make much sense in today's times. Therefore, my suggestion for a more suitable lifespan in Early Simvilization follows in the table below:

People died early in the old days, a 30-year-old woman was already considered old. I've read newspaper pages on the internet saying that this is bullshit and that in the Roman Empire, the rich lived to be 70 years old. But honestly I need to research more about this. My suggestion for life expectancy in the Modern Age is shown in the table below:

You can also increase life expectancy in the 20th century, as the elderly currently live to be 100 years old due to advances in medicine:

Another alternative is to play on short lifespan. Thus, the challenge would run faster and each Sim Day would always be really equivalent to 1 human year. In that case, I suggest changing the pregnancy to just 1 day. You would have to do this in the MC Command Center. If you use Wicked Whims or Wonderful Whims, you need to change the pregnancy settings of those mods too to work. In a short time, the suggested duration of lifetime at the Early Simvilization is shown in the table below:

Now there is a question. Sims in the world grow up on their own, without birthday cakes or player intervention, exactly 1 day after their birthday. So, even if the Sim you play with is born after them or on the same date, if you grow him on his birthday, he will live less than an NPC. For example, your Sim is born on day P1 and they are 1 day old as a newborn. Assuming that newborn is the only stage you're really going to play more than a day past the birthday or let it grow alone to enjoy the stage a little, you'll grow him to infant in P2. After 5 days you get the birthday notification and grow him to toddler in P7. Another 7 days, he gets another birthday notification and grows him to child in P14. In 14 days you will grow him to a teenager in P28. In 21 days it will grow to a young adult in P49. Another 24 days and he will be an adult in P77. After 33 days, you will be an elder in P119. The Sim in the world that is born in P1, grows into an infant in two days (P2) and in another 5 days grows to toddler (P8). He has seven days to become a child and grows up on his own a day later in P16. He will grow to teenager in P31, young adult in P53, adult in P82 and elder in P125. That's one extra day for each life stage change (except newborns), for a total of six extra days, as shown in the table below:

This means that in order for all your Sims in your save to be the same age you should always grow your Sim the day after their birthday or let them grow up on their own. In fact, it should change the life stage duration to 1 day less than suggested in the tables above in the MC Command Center settings. (Morbid Gamer turns off in-game aging and calculates each Sim's lifespan through the spreadsheet. This generates errors. I find it much easier to change settings in the MCC. That way, the age changes will be automatic and you only have to worry about growing the Sim one day after the birthday in the game's Calendar or simply letting him grow up on his own). Below are the settings considering normal and short time:

MC Command Center only modifies life stage duration in normal mode. So, if you're going to play with the short life, you should play in normal mode and change the duration of life in normal mode to the one specified in the table. Note that in the suggestion the life stages of newborn, infant and toddler have also been adapted so that when added together they result in multiples of 7 days (the newborn grows naturally without player intervention in 2 days, the infant in 7 days and the toddler in 19 days, totaling 28 days. In short mode, the newborn grows in 2 days, the infant in 2 days and the toddler in 3 days, totaling 7 days). Infants and toddlers often share similar clothing. So in modern times, in normal game mode, you'll enjoy the little ones for almost an entire Sim year, experiencing all seasons. The other stages have also been adapted so that the Sim when growing alone has life stage durations in multiples of 7. You should note that this way, starting from the Child stage, your Sim will always grow up on the same day of the week, making this closer to the birthday concept. Just remember to always grow the Sim played one day after the birthday marked in the game's Calendar or let him grow alone and all Sims in the world will have the default life stages. This makes it easier when you want to marry your Sim to an NPC of a similar age, making a friendship from childhood, as the two will not have a very large age discrepancy and you will not need to change the NPC age through the MC Command Center (doing so always bugged that NPC's life stage).

As for dogs, cats, horses and other animals, I don't usually mess with their life expectancy. A Sim year is equivalent to 7 human years and animals already live a short time. But Morbid Gamer has a suggested lifespan for dogs and cats in the Ultimate Decades Challenge.

DEATH ROLLS

I think Morbid Gamer invented this and I loved it. Each time your Sim grows to a new stage of life, you have to roll a dice to find out if he/she can grow to the next stage or if he/she must die in that stage and how many days he/she can live (in case of death. I added this second dice because I didn't want all the unlucky Sims to die on their birthday). Death rolls bring more drama to the game and make it unexpected. The data is usually based on life expectancy at the historical moment. It is assumed that if a child manages to survive the early childhood stage, he/she will have a better chance of surviving in the future. Pregnancy should also be more difficult if the Sim is very young (near puberty) or old. The original Sims, including the Founder Sim, are the only ones who are exempt from rolling the dice, because if that generation dies the challenge is over, but descendants must roll the dice on every age change since birth. You can also choose to use some mod that simulates illness and roll the dice only when your Sims get sick.

SPECIAL EVENTS

This is something I adapted from The Great British Challenge by Emersed Crown. In every Age, specific historical events occur, usually tragic as wars and natural catastrophes. This is a way to reduce the game's population so that it doesn't weigh too much. These events are decided by the dice rolls. Some are optional and some are mandatory.

RULES

The rules for each Age are still under construction. I try to test it in my gameplay first and it takes a lot of time. This is a very long challenge, and it takes time to write the rules and make the translations and adaptations to the English language. (If you compare the doc pt/br with the doc en/us you will see that I try to make the adaptations by changing the links with information in each language and not just doing a literal translation. Some of these links remain in the original (generally when it is a font produced in Brazil) and others only have the font in English, because it was the font I used and there is no better match in Portuguese).

Another problem is my perfectionism, I want to make everything perfect and I end up wasting time on it. My goal with the LHC is for it to be as complete as possible and that involves a lot of research and constant revision and improvement of the Ages rules. This challenge is ambitious and must have the perfect historical construction so that it can be easily adapted to The Sims 5, Paralives and future simulation games, as these games must support custom content. So, if you get to the point where you are missing the rules for the next Age, my suggestion is that you start playing The Great British Challenge so you can continue its legacy, rather than waiting too long for updates. Sometimes I make some modifications to improve, although I don't really like to do that after posting on tumblr. I am also open to suggestions and criticism as long as the objective is to improve the challenge and have a historical aspect.You will also find some information repeated throughout this document, such as mod indications and cheat tips. This is because each Age is designed to be played independently. Thus, the player can choose to play only one of the LHC Age, or else take a long time to pass the Age, but have his memory refreshed when reading the rules.

Original Age - Genesis | Era Original - Gênesis

Prehistoric Age (Paleolithic and Mesolithic) | Era Pré-Histórica (Paleolítico e Mesolítico)

Agricutural Age (Neolithic and Early Simvilization) | Era da Agricultura (Neolítico e Início da Simivilização)

Ancient Age (Mesopotamia, Egypt, Minoan Greece and others cultures) | Era Antiga (Mesopotâmia, Egito, Grécia Minoica e outras culturas)

Classical Age (Classical Greece, Persia, Macedonia) | Era Classica (Grécia Clássica, Pérsia, Macedônia)

Empire Age (Romans and Barbarian Peoples) | Era Imperial (Romanos e Povos Bárbaros)

Medieval Age (High and Low Middle Ages) | Era Medieval (Alta e Baixa Idade Média)

Modern Age (Tudor and Elizabeth) | Era Moderna (Tudoriana e Elisabetana)

OTHER HISTORICAL CHALLENGES

History Challenge - It was oiginally created by Cloudseeker and is out of date. The History Challenge is a Legacy challenge that aims to take your Sims through world history with 7 Eras, where each one equals a generation. You can find the rules here.

Legacy Eras Challenge - It was created by Marina Montenegro and improves the History Challenge. Legacy Eras Challenge is based on legacy and aims to take your Sims through European history across 16 Eras. It brings death rolls and objectives closer to the Legacy History Challenge. You find the rules here.

The Great British Challenge - It was created by Emersed Crown and intends to tell the story of Great Britain since the Bronze Age. The Great British Challenge focuses on building a storyline for each Era and has greater freedom of choice than the Legacy History Challenge. You can find the rules here and you can follow the story on Simblr.

Decades Challenge - Created by ZombieCleo and starts in 1890, following European history to the present day. In Decades Challenge each generation lasts a decade. You can find the rules here.

Ultimate Decades Challenge - It was created by Morbid Gamer who modified the decades challenge starting at 1550 and adding more difficulty. In 2022, she released a prequel starting in the Medieval Era in 1300. You can follow her on youtube channel or twitch tv and find the rules here.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to all custom content creators and challenges creators, to everyone who will play this challenge. And a special thanks to cloudseeker and @morbidgamer, without whom I wouldn't have thought of creating this challenge.

#thesims4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 legacy history challenge #legacy history challenge #desafio do legado histórico #ts4 history challenge #history challenge #ts4 legacy #desafio do legado

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dulcewrites · 2 years

Text

Flew too Close to the Sun (Pt 2)

Pairing: austin!elvis x black fem oc (Faye)

Content: It’s been two weeks since shows at The International Hotel have began. During a party, Faye comforts a distraught Elvis (wc: 2103)

Warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, illusions to elvis having attachment issues

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who supported the first part of this series. The first part was focusing on the girls, so now we are getting into more Faye/Elvis stuff as we go on. But it is important to me to build a realistic world around the sisters; their bond is important to the story towards the end. It will be a bit of a slow burn toxic messiness for faye and elvis. I keep going back and forth on how naive I want to make faye. Anyway you guys have any questions about the fic or the sisters please send them in. Also don’t forget to reblog, like and follow 🫶🏽. And let me know if you want to be tagged in other parts

FTCTTS pt 1

Series Masterlist

Blog Masterlist

Faye has missed this. The sweet monotony of shows and constant performing; it’s the only thing she missed about the chitlin circuit. Constantly being around like minded, artistic people. It also doesn’t hurt having the best seat in the house seeing Elvis do what he does best. It’s hard not to get caught up in the star power that is Elvis Presley. The way he sings, the way dresses, the way he moves; it’s hard not to get caught up in him and his orbit. An orbit of talent, stardom, and coolness.

Faye appreciates her gospel background, and everything her and her sisters have accomplished but something about the world they have been welcomed into is so… tempting. Maybe it’s the difference in costumes, the venue, the type of people that come to see Elvis, or the nature of the songs they help sing. Everything is so different, and Faye loves it.

And she can see the attitude of her sisters changing. Dawn even agreed to come to the party that the rest of the Memphis Mafia are throwing to celebrate 3 years at The International Hotel. A party that would include not only the rest of the band, singers, crew, and staff but also big names in the music and movie industry. These are the connections that Faye thinks they need to make their transition into different music sounds. A modern disco sound with the flare of Motown soul.

“Do they have anything that’s not so… in your face?” Dawn says plucking through the dresses they could wear for the party. Each one being more shimmering and sparkly than the last.

Faye laughs as she eyes the clothes, especially a silver spaghetti strap number. It’s perfect. They all spend time trying on different dresses till they finally choose which ones they want to wear for the evening.

“I was talking to Bill, from horns, and he heard from Mike who does the lights who day drinks with Richard, and he said that Priscilla is not gonna be at the party,” Shirley says absentmindedly while checking out a pair of heels.

“No way! Did he tell you why?”

“I knew something was going on with them!”

Faye and Dawn say at the same, and Shirley laughs at their different perspectives on the matter. The girls were born and raised in the church; gossip is in their blood. It’s not always polite or lady like but they just can’t help it.

“He didn’t say why, but I think they’re trouble in paradise. Like they’re done for good,” Shirley says lowly as if there’s others in the room with them.

“Makes sense. Rockstars probably make awful husbands,” Dawn shrugs. “Imagine having to see your husband tongue kiss his fans or having women write how they want to have his children.”

Yeah, that’s not… great. But if it’s all true, Faye can’t help but feel bad for everyone involved. That’s still his wife and the mother of his child.

“Maybe they just need a break from each other,” Faye says softly. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Or a large alimony check.”

Faye rolls her eyes at Dawn’s cynicism. How she has that attitude but is with someone like her boyfriend, Julian, is still shocking to Faye. But then again, maybe they cancel each other out. Julian: overly attentive, romantic, hopeless romantic (it might be the reason why him and Faye are so close). Dawn: aloof, the ultimate realist.

“I wonder who he’ll be with next,” Shirley wonders out loud.

The room gets a bit silent as they all mull over what Shirley just said. Maybe she’ll be an actress, or a dancer, or maybe some random woman he meets at a diner.

“Well, god help her whoever she is,” Dawn says simply.

The subject of Elvis’s love life gets dropped after that, but Faye’s mind still wonders back to relationships. Maybe it’s her lack of luck in the dating the department that makes her curious or makes her crave what her sisters have.

The party is in full swing by the time the girls get there. The high-rise restaurant in the hotel had been renovated to a dimly lit, tightly packed club atmosphere. The only light coming from the bar area and the technicolor lights bouncing off the walls.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Faye raises her voice over the pumping music.

“Remember no dark liquor!”

Faye nods pretending to care about Shirley’s warning. So, she got a little tipsy one time after drinking a couple scotch on the rocks. She was 21; she can hold her liquor better now. She slides up to the bar, asking the bartender for an old fashion. One can’t hurt.

“I expected you to be more of a martini girl,” a familiar voice sounds off next to her.

Jerry. His eyes are covered by aviators and his smile is easy. He’s always been kind to the girls. If any of them had a question, they knew they could go to him.

“And what made you think that?” Fays asks with a laugh.

“I don’t know. Something dainty and sweet would just suit you.”

He’s flirting, and Faye is sure of it. She tries to think of something flirty back but Dawn’s voice rings in her head.

We are gonna do this right

Despite how fond her sisters are of Jerry; she can only imagine the stern talks she’ll get if she starts anything with anyone in that inner circle. Then again, she could just not tell them.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Faye gives his shoulder a squeeze before taking her drink and going back to the dancefloor where the girls are. She can feel Jerry’s eyes on her back while she walks away.

She dances with her sisters and members of the band for what feels like forever. A part of her forgets why this party was even thrown till she realizes she hasn’t seen Elvis all night. They play his music and they’re giant, and honestly obnoxious pictures of his performances from his time at the hotel. But she’s yet to see him in the flesh. The dancefloor is insanely hot, and despite the fun she’s having, Faye needs air. She pushes through the crowd to get to the crowd to get to the outside patio of the restaurant.

Faye is a little shocked when she sees the back of Elvis. She waits for him to notice that she’s walked out there but, he’s sitting at one of the tables, focused on the bright lights of Vegas. The slumped shoulders and almost empty bottle of whiskey give away he is not necessarily in a partying mood. She debates in her head if she should see if he’s ok or just turn back around and pretend she never saw him. Faye thinks about what she would want someone to do for her and walks towards the table.

“You throw a mean party,” Faye says softly

Elvis only turns slightly to her, eyes rimmed red, and he gives her a halfhearted smile. She sits down in one of the chairs next to him. They sit in silence for a moment before he breaks it after finishing off the bottle of liquor.

“The party isn’t for me,” he says lowly. “It’s never for me. It’s all about the show.”

Faye’s mind goes to the booze. She wonders if he knows that people outside his circle know about his “habits”. He must know people see the doctor and the yes men that follow him around. A part of her feels guilty; she thinks the treatment is wrong but here she is benefiting from it; the shows, the clothes, the meeting new people.

“No one actually cares about me,” he continues, bitterness in his voice.

She knows who that is pointed towards. What Shirley heard must’ve been true because Priscilla is a no show and has been for months. Faye really can’t blame her. She knows better than to bring Priscilla up by name, so she tries a different approach.

“People do care about you, even the ones you think don’t right know,” Faye reassures him, reaching out to grab the hand that’s resting of the table. “Your family, friends, and fans all care about you. Everyone who gets to work with you cares. I care about you.”

She squeezes his hand; Elvis’s eyes travel from where their hands are to Faye’s eyes. There’s an earnestness in her big doe eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long time, and earnestness he wants to get a bit lost in. He squeezes her hand back in response, and they share a smile.

The moment is interrupted when the door open and a head of shaggy hair appears. Jerry’s eyes go from the empty bottle to their hands joined together and raises an eyebrow. Faye removes her hand feeling a bit embarrassed by how it probably looks.

“EP, I think they’re want you to say something soon. Just a quick thank you,” Jerry says in a tone completely different from the one she received at the bar.

Elvis sighs before getting up and straightening out his suitcoat; it is the first time that Faye is noticing he doesn’t have a shirt or tie underneath it. Her eyes go from his chest to his eyes that are still on her.

“Thank you for the talk sweetheart,” he says voice much warmer than before, giving her a wink. And just like that Elvis the charmer is back, and Faye can’t help but be thoroughly charmed.

She watches him slide past Jerry before standing herself. She prays in her head Jerry doesn’t say anything and lets her get back to her sisters. Anxiety spikes a bit when he doesn’t.

“You ok,” the question is seemingly short and to the point, but it could mean so many things.

Is she ok in general, is she ok with comforting someone who is technically her boss, are they ok? Faye just nods hoping the conversation would be dropped. Jerry tilts his head, his eyes searching for something in hers.

“I don’t want overstep my boundaries,” Jerry starts slowly.

“So don’t,” Faye says back quickly.

He sighs and looks down at his shoes before look back up. He stands square in front of Faye’s way to get back to the party.

“I just want you to be careful is all,” he lowers his voice. “Elvis is in a fragile state right now, and I know how he gets once he… takes a liking to someone.”

Faye can tell he is trying to choose his words wisely, and she knows how to read between the lines. Elvis and Jerry have known each other for a long time, and they’re good friends. But Jerry has also been there for just as many bad times as good.

“Jerry, I’m fine, and nothing is going on between him and I,” Faye says. “Now let’s go back inside please.”

Jerry doesn’t budge for a moment, as if he’s gonna say something in rebuttal but the sound of cheers breaks the tension. He gives once last fleeting look to her before shaking his head wordlessly and open the door to let Faye in. The walk to Elvis on the mic thanking the owner of the International, as well as couple other bigwigs. Elvis’s eyes wonder across the room till they meet Faye’s

“I want to especially thank all people who help me put on a great show,” his says, smile soft as his eyes don’t leave Faye’s. “I have very special people behind me.”

A part of Faye knows he’s talking about the talk they just had, but she tries to push that aside for the rest of the night. He was down on his luck and just needed a friend. Nothing more, nothing less… Right? Being reconnected with her sisters helps take her mind off both chats she had that night. That with the help of a couple more old fashions, and few shots.

The greatly regrets that choice the next morning she has a pounding headache. Pounding that matched the vigorous knocking on the door that wakes her up. She opens the door to someone recognizes in Elvis’s inner circle. She raises an eyebrow at the giant, and beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands. She asks him if he has the wrong room, and he says he was supposed to take them directly to Faye Williams room 809.

Her throat tightens a bit when she reads the note.

A special woman deserves special flowers. EP

Jerry’s words pop back into her head. Be careful.

#austin!elvis x black!reader #austin!elvis x black!oc #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x oc #elvis 2022 #elvis imagine #elvis fic #black!reader #black!oc #my writing #flew too close to the sun #austin butler imagine

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