#//put under a read more since it's long!!

[heich0e]

rintarou plays with a bit of ribbon left strewn across the floor, twirling it around his long, lithe fingers idly. it's green and velvety, and slips easily between his digits as he winds it slowly between the valleys of his knuckles, humming a little tune to himself.

as you approach him in the living room by the christmas tree, he looks up at you with a soft, content smile on his face.

"here you go," you say, handing him the cup of coffee you've just prepared, steam curling from the surface. it's in a novelty mug he got you last christmas, shaped like a cute little character from a sci-fi franchise you've loved since you were a kid, and he takes it with an appreciative nod—careful not to spill a drop as the cup passes from your hand to his own.

you take a seat at his side with your own cup of coffee once he's taken his first sip.

"mmm," he hums once he's swallowed the mouthful. "it's good."

"i put some cinnamon in the french press," you tell him, leaning a bit against his arm, your cheek resting on his shoulder as the two of you sit tucked together on the living room floor beneath the tree.

"festive," rinatrou says with an approving nod, shifting so you press even closer to his side, his arm snaking back around your waist.

it's been a slow, easy morning in your nagano apartment. you insisted on opening gifts first thing, because that's what your family always did growing up, and even though rintarou wasn't much of a holiday person to begin with he indulged you without question. it wasn't a grand, elaborate ordeal, just a couple of gifts exchanged between the two of you; some new headphones for rin, some perfume for you, little bits of clothes for each of you here and there. your mother had sent each of you a new pair of mittens (though your card had included an unsubtle but endearing note about how it would be a shame to cover up the new ring you've recently started wearing on your left hand) and rin's sister sent you a popular local tea from the town where she's attending university.

"did you have a nice christmas?" you ask rintarou as he takes another sip of coffee. he hums in agreement, looking down at where you're tucked into his side.

"did you?"

you echo his earlier hum.

"we should clean up," you say, looking around the room at the torn gift wrap and boxes on the floor. "i need to clean up from making the coffee, too."

rintarou dips down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "you do that, i'll take care of this stuff."

you nod, pulling yourself away from the warmth of his side, pushing yourself back up to your feet as rintarou crawls towards the mess at the bottom of the tree.

you're just about to cross the threshold to the kitchen when you hear him say.

"oh, there's another gift under here."

"what?" you ask, turning back to face him. heat suddenly floods your face when you see him kneeling underneath the tree with a familiar gift in his hands. it's not a very large gift—a slim little package only a bit bigger than the size of his hand—so while you're not surprised it went unnoticed at first, you're mortified when you realize what's about to happen.

"it's for me," he says in confusion after reading the tag, glancing over at you.

"um," you stumble a little over your feet as you try to cross the room towards him. "what if you wait to open that until late—!"

rintarou's finger is already under the edge of the wrapping paper, though he hasn't properly ripped into it yet. he's watching you curiously as you approach him, a glint of something in your eyes that's caused you far too many headaches in the four years the two of you have been dating.

"rin, stop," you say to him, and though you make every attempt to sound firm, the demand comes out more pleading than anything.

"what did you get for me?" he asks, a lilt of mischief in his tone as he peels up the corner of the wrapping paper ever so slightly.

"it's nothing important," you insist, falling to your knees beside him and trying to cover up the present with your hands. "you can have it later."

"but it's christmas now," he counters, slipping the gift out from your hands and holding it away from you. "plus all the other presents are opened, it'll be lonely under the tree all by itself."

"rintarou," you groan, tipping yourself face first into his chest to hide your shame. the telltale sound of wrapping paper tearing tells you that as much as he might love to indulge you, he delights in tormenting you even more.

"what is this?"

you refuse to pull yourself away from his chest.

its quiet for a moment. you hear some shuffling, and you can clearly picture rintarou turning the little package over in his hands as he scrutinizes it.

"was this supposed to be for me?" he asks after a moment, clearly confused.

you don't say anything.

you don't even move.

"did you fall asleep?" rintarou teases you, rubbing at your back as you keep your face hidden against his chest.

"no, i died," you answer, but the words are muffled by the material of his hoodie.

"oh no, not on christmas. how tragic," he drawls jokingly, but you don't laugh.

"...baby..."

"...babe."

"why did you buy me a present i don't understand just to get mad at me about it?" he mutters when you don't respond to any of his beckoning.

finally you separate yourself from his sweatshirt to peer up at him resentfully.

"it is for you," you mumble under your breath, answering his earlier question. you snatch the package out from his hands, tucking it against your chest with your arms crossed over top of it. "but i'm the one who's supposed to wear them."

you watch the realization dawn on rintarou's face. if you weren't so hideously embarrassed, you might even find it in yourself to laugh at the almost cartoonish expression of enlightenment.

"oh," he breathes. "oh."

suddenly he's in your face, dipping down to meet you at eye level, his nose brushing yours.

"you got those just for me?" he asks, and you can almost taste the cinnamon on his lips.

"yeah," you answer quietly, and he kisses you to muffle the little groan the slips out of his lips at your answer.

with one hand cradling the back of your head, rintarou lowers you back onto the ground, slotting himself between your thighs as they part to welcome him. his tongue slips between your lips to meet your own, the warmth his hands gliding up over your hips towards your chest.

you don't resist as he slips the little box out from your grasp.

rintarou pulls away, and you look up at him from your position on the floor as your chest heaves. the look in his eyes as he appraises the gift lacks any of the confusion it had a moment prior, replaced now with a heady, palpable lust.

he turns the box around towards you, and you have no choice but to look at the silky sheer tights in their luxurious packaging.

"this is a very thoughtful gift," he says to you quietly, his voice low and a little strained. the bulge in his gray sweatpants, which has only gotten larger since his moment of realization, does not go unnoticed by you.

"it's easy to buy gifts for a pervert," you mumble, hiding your face under your hand.

slowly rintarou lifts your hand from your face, and you watch under heavy lidded eyes as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles tenderly—right over the ring he put there a few days prior.

"are you gonna put them on for me?" rintarou speaks into your skin, his lashes fluttering in a way that might seem sweet if the circumstances were different. you take the package from him, slipping your fingertip under the lip of the packaging to pry it open.

you glance up at him again.

rintarou laughs breathily as he meets your gaze, and you catch a glint of teeth biting down into the plush of his lip like he's trying to restrain himself.

there's a sudden thickness in your throat. a knot in your stomach. anticipation thrums just underneath your skin, prickling up to the surface with every gentle touch of his hands.

you tilt the opened package back towards him.

"don't you wanna put them on me yourself?"

he'll be the one tearing them off you in a few minutes anyway, so he may as well enjoy them while they last.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

SVSSS BRAINWAVE JUST HIT! I HAD A THOUGHT ™

An average modern person transmitigates into SVSSS. Mind you, I specifically mean SVSSS and not PIDW. That’s right, our protagonist awakens to find themselves as a NPC in the world of Scum Villain Self Saving System. And they think to themselves upon waking up, “Oh, I’m an NPC in a xianxia novel with a happy ending! Cool!!” and goes about their life being a background nerd geeking out about plants, and monsters, and cultivation in general, and neat flying swords.

But this is a world of sex pollen and wife plots and unfortunately the cure for a lot of diseases is duel cultivation with a heavenly demon, and we all know who that demon is going to end up marrying, so it’s best to mess around with meta cultivation knowledge and prep for the worst case scenario, and honestly, they may as well solve some of the minor issues in the plot while their at it, so they invent some new cultivation techniques from some of those nifty svsss fanfictions they read while alive (I’m specifically thinking of this fic’s explanation of duel cultivation and cauldrons, but other weird cultivation methods could be used from other fanfics and xianxia books), so they can tidy up some things.

For instance, is it really necessary for Zhuzhi-lang to be stuck as a weird snake creature for nearly twenty years? Is it really needed for Yue Qingyuan to have crippled cultivation due to his sword?? Does Tianlang Jun have to be stuck under a mountain and then escape only to slowly die in a decomposing body??

They know they can’t change everything without the system interfering, but small nudges should help right? After all, they’re just a background NPC and Shen Yuan will show up eventually and everyone will fall in love with him and no one will even notice the NPC’s existence even if they had noticed something was up during their miraculous healing and salvation spree.

So they go about fixing those things. They catch Zhuzhi-lang unawares and feed him a sun and dew mushroom seed while he’s confused and do some funky cultivation shenanigans and pat him on the head cause he’s really such a cute weird snake creature and give him some vague warning about not trusting in laws and then fucks off to somewhere else.

I’m still caught up on Metagaming’s concept of duel cultivation transactions where you give and take—like taking something from someone’s cultivation, not just power, and returning something else—and keep getting stuck in a brainrot loop of the NPC taking some bloodmite powers from Zhuzhi-lang when they gave him a fully humanoid form that’s not reliant on Tianlang Jun. So my main idea for how the NPC plots to hold Yue Qingyuan in place is feeding him lesser bloodmites (not full ones because they only took a minor ability and can only hold someone for a few minutes before the bloodmites die), while they hold Yue Qingyuan still long enough to draw some ritual to heal his soul and separate it from Xuan Su. But honestly, I’m sure other ideas could apply here too. My Metagaming brainrot is just too strong right now to think of any.

And Tianlang Jun? Simple. Zhuzhi-lang’s got a humanoid form and can easily get the sun and dew mountain flowers for himself. They can’t stop the man from being imprisoned entirely. The system says no since Luo Binghe needs a dramatic entrance. So while they can’t stop the tragedy, they can put some pieces into play for an early escape, maybe a new plan to get him a better body once’s he’s back, and be a ferry for Su Xiyan’s body to revive her at some point as well.

It’s nice being an unnoticeable NPC, isn’t it? You can do whatever you want and no one’s going to know!!

Except. Someone does notice (as we all could have seen coming). And Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as fuck of this obnoxious Shidi because he notices everyone due to paranoid, and he’s even MORE suspicious of the mysterious character that healed Yue Qingyuan’s soul (and wasn’t that a doozy of a realization to have when Yue Qingyuan burst into his bamboo house one day freaking out because some disguised, powerful cultivator somehow did the impossible after ambushing him and holding him down as they healed his soul, and Shen Qingqiu is still reeling from learning that Yue Qingyuan’s SOUL was damaged trying to save Xiao Jiu and the stubborn asshole never told him because he apparently assumed Xiao Jiu knew there wasn’t a single universe where Qi ge didn’t try to come for him). And so yea, Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as all hell and starts snooping and plotting to catch the mysterious cultivator by combing through Cang Qiong because whoever it is has to have an in at the sect somewhere to know about Yue Qingyuan’s soul.

And that’s not even mentioning how suspicious Zhuzhi-lang and Tianlang Jun are now. They might not have realized what that strange cultivator did when they did it, or understood the cryptic in law mention, but they certainly have some suspicions now that Tianlang Jun was as imprisoned by in law like people, and Zhuzhi-lang kept his humanoid form just fine without Tianlang Jun, and now the hunt is ON for the mysterious benefactor, so they can repay the kindness and find out what the fuck is going on.

The NPC is, of course, oblivious to all of this going on and goes about their merry way thinking they’re being the Best ™ at being lowkey. They are SO good at being inconspicuous!! They deserve an award really!!

And then. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t qi deviate.

Shen Yuan doesn’t show up.

Oh shit, the NPC thinks to themselves as they begin to panic. They even check Shen Qingqiu out themselves to see if it’s Shen Yuan just being really good at acting. Maybe he was a better actor in the book than he gave himself credit for or something?? But no. That’s Shen Qingqiu all right. Shen Yuan is missing in action, and someone has to fix the plot of Cang Qiong is doomed.

Thus begins the NPC’s journey to try and unobtrusively fix PIDW’s child abuse problems (that they’re unaware are already fixed), save Liu Qingge from his qi deviation in Ling Xi Caves, make sure Luo Binghe doesn’t raze the sect to the ground someday and hopefully find him some sort of husband replacement to keep him under control when he does return, possibly dispose of the Huan Hua Palace Master at some point because he’s vile trash, and did I mention there are multiple man hunts for this poor oblivious dude currently on going??

And the most important question for them to solve? Where the fuck did Shen Yuan go??

Hmm I wonder where that man could have gone.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Could you write a Shoto x reader Christmas smut? Love your fics btw, you’re a great writer!🫶

Ohhhh heck yesss! Here you go, dear reader! ❤️

All Wrapped Up with a Bow 🎄❤️ | Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Being a Pro Hero is hard...especially when you and your boyfriend Shoto Todoroki's busy schedules often keep you apart. When Shoto asks to spend Christmas Eve together just the two of you, you decide to spice things up with some lacy lingerie. Note: This is an unedited fic :)

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, unprotected sex, light ass play, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, All characters are in their mid-twenties!

Shoto’s been working insane hours lately.

To be honest, you both have. Being heroes in your mid-twenties, it comes with the territory. You’re still new enough to the hero scene that you need to prove your worth by working extra hours, taking extra interviews and booking extra press events.

Extra. Extra. Extra.

If only you had “extra” time to spend with your beloved boyfriend Shoto Todoroki.

But unfortunately, your plate is too full and work/life balance is a distant dream. Maybe when you’re thirty. For now, it’s time to keep grinding and hope for the best.

Your relationship with Shoto is as strong as ever. You’re both steady, dependable people. You rarely quarrel. You both take the time to share updates on your schedules and workload. Your relationship is strong in every way except…you rarely get to see each other in person. And that means that the physical aspect of your relationship is nearly non-existent.

On the rare nights you both have off-duty, exhaustion seeps deep into your bones and prevents any romantic or “spontaneous” acts from commencing. Instead, the two of you order takeout and cuddle up with a movie until one of you nods off halfway through. Maybe you’ll exchange a quick shoulder rub, or use Shoto’s theragun on aching muscles before brushing your teeth and calling it a night. It’s not romantic or glamorous. But it works – having a supportive partner who understands the exact strain of your job is rare in this line of work. And that makes what you and Shoto have even more precious.

And so, you continue your non-routine routine. Go on missions, meet with the press. Text Shoto a cute photo of you volunteering at the local animal shelter in between patrols. Grab dinner and fall asleep at Shoto’s apartment once a week. Sign up for an extra night shift with your sidekicks. Get assigned a mission out of town and send Shoto a text apologizing for missing his birthday. Receive an encouraging call in reply extolling your many great attributes as a hero and as a partner. Refocus and get back to your hero work. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

That is, until Christmas Eve.

The end of the year approaches so quickly, you feel like you’ve been hit with a time warp quirk sending you speeding forward in time. Looking back, it’s been a great year for your career. But your social and dating life have been massively neglected.

You wake up the morning of Christmas Eve to a text from Shoto. You’re in your own apartment near the agency, getting ready to commute into work. You pause in putting on your hero costume so you can read the wall of texts coming through on your screen.

Shoto: Hey Y/N. I miss you.

Shoto: I feel like I haven’t been able to see you much lately and it’s starting to really upset me.

Shoto: I told my agency I’m taking off tonight so I can spend time with you. I’m going to shut off my phone.

Shoto: Can you get the night off last minute?

Shoto: It’s been so long since I’ve touched you

Shoto: See what you can do?

You pause. It’s so rare that Shoto asks for physical affection. You call your team and  rearrange your schedule so you can take off the entire day. Your sidekicks are more than eager to fill in for you and get a few more patrol hours under their belts. You click your phone closed and breathe out slowly – it’s been so long since you took a little time to chill. The hero world can wait. Your relationship with Shoto cannot.

Y/N: I took the night off! Want to spend the night at my apartment?

Shoto: Yes. Love you.

You stand up and stretch – no need to wear your hero costume anymore today. You strip it off and hang it back in its special case with care before dawning leggings and an oversized sweater. You think quickly through how you want to optimize the day – there are quite a few errands you’ve been putting off. You still need to get Christmas presents for a few friends and family members that you’ll see on the New Years Eve. Plus you should probably run out for groceries so you can surprise Shoto with a yummy home cooked meal…

The mall it is!

You grab your coat, apartment keys and purse and head out to the local shopping center to check everything off your list. You dash to the local train with exuberance – it’s been so long since you’ve had an unexpected day off. What a treat! Maybe you should stop and get a mani pedi at the local salon…it’s been quite a while since you’ve glammed up a bit. You start scouring Pinterest for the perfect holiday nail color.

By the time the train pulls into the station, you have 5 options screenshot and saved. You speed walk from the station to the shopping complex, grateful that everything you need can be found in one place.

You start at the nail salon. The staff is excited to see you – everyone waves excitedly and cheer as you pick your color. You know that you’re their only regular Pro Hero client (they have a poster of you in your uniform framed on the back wall as a reminder), most other Pro Heros employ private glam squads to take care of all of their beautifuication needs. You, however, would rather be treated like a normal person when possible. Plus, you love all the ladies who work at the salon and treat you like a friend.

Your favorite nail tech Lisa beckons you to a reclining chair and starts to fuss over you. She’s tall and in her mid fifties, with beautiful long hair swept into a plait down he back. She’s the mother hen of the salon and is up to date on everyone’s tea. Within minutes she’s cleaned up your cuticles and layered on the first coat of nail varnish.

“You still dating that Todoroki boy?” She asks, always keen for gossip. You love that she refers to Shoto as “that Todoroki boy” as if he’s just a normal guy from the neighborhood and not one of Japan’s top heroes. You giggle and nod.

“I’m surprising him with dinner tonight. We both took the night of to spend together.”

“Ohhh, how romantic! He seems like such a fine young man for you. What are you going to wear!?” She layers on topcoat as she gushes.

“I didn’t even think about my outfit yet – I only just decided to take the day off! Any suggestions?” You hold up your freshly manicured hand and the paint glints ruby red in the light.

“Well…” Lisa gives you a mischievous look before calling over her shoulder to one of the younger girls. “Dina – grab that Cosmo magazine from the break room?”

Dina, a woman closer to your own age, appears a moment later in a flurry of magazine pages. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, so I grabbed a few.”

“The December issue, dear.” Lisa holds out an expectant hand and Dina hands over the magazine. There’s a pouty-lipped model on the cover wrapped in nothing but Christmas bows. You don’t tend to focus too much on looks and beauty magazines (your hero work has been all encompassing for quite sometime), so you’re curious what Lisa is going to recommend.

Lisa used that dazzle dry top coat that makes your nails try extra fast, so you’re able to handle the magazine with ease when Lisa hands you the copy.

“Flip to page 35, dear.” She says as she starts to paint your toes to match.

You do as she says, and your jaw drops. The pages are covered in snapshots of lingerie.

“The key to that Todoroki boys heart?” Lisa says nonchalantly as she files your toes softly. “It’s a home cooked meal and one of those outfits.” She points with her nail file to the page. “Men can’t resist fancy underwear.”

You gape at the spread. You’re surprised at the wide variety of lacy thong and underwire bra sets that stare back at you. You’ve never worn something sexy like this for Shoto before…he’s never had a problem with your cotton Aerie underwear and comfortable sports bras. You wonder if he’s be into any of these strappy monstrosities.

“I don’t know Lisa…” You hold the magazine closer to your face to get a good look at a pair of crotchless panties that look like a collection of strings bound together with a small bow. “These don’t really scream ‘me.’ I don’t know if Shoto would be into this?”

“If you’re looking for something to make the night special, this could be a good option.” She says, layering down ruby paint on your big toes. “You can get something more subtle – look at the little Santa themed number at the top of page 36.”

“How many times have you looked at this that you know the pages by heart?” You ask her curiously.

“I have a photographic memory as part of my quirk.” She shrugs, finishing the first layer of red across your toes. “And yesterday was slow, I basically read this cover to cover twice.”

You look over at the outfit she’s recommending. It’s a tiny bit more subtle – a bra and panty set that’s supposed to emulate Santa’s Christmas suit. The bra is lacy with red bows and the panties have white trim with a tiny gold belt buckle on the waistband. It’s kind of cute, but still way sexier than any underwear you’ve ever owned.

“Just think about it.” Lisa says as she finishes up your toes with some topcoat. “They sell all of this in the lingerie store down the way. I promise you that if you buy a set of these, you are gonna get the best dicking of your life tonight.”

That does catch your attention. It would be really nice to have a good fuck with Shoto tonight. And that lingerie set would match your nails…

“Do you give sex tips to all your clients?” You raise an eyebrow at Lisa as you take a photo of the magazine spread with your phone camera. She smiles gamely and shrugs again.

“People come to my salon for advice of all kinds. It’s my job to know what they need to hear on any given day.” She winks as she cleans up her supplies, placing all of the little nail polish bottles and files on a small wheely cart.

“Well I’ll let you know if I end up going for it.” You say as Lisa leads you over to the nail drier for your feet.

“Please do, dear. I’m a sucker for a romantic story. Do tell me, though…how big is he?” She cackles and the rest of the staff look over curiously. Your face turns bright red as you realize what she’s asking.

“Big enough.” You say conspiratorially.

“So over 6 inches. That’s what I had my money on.”

And that’s how, an hour later, you end up in the fancy lingerie store. Everything is covered in holly and bells and bows and your eyes don’t know where to look. You’re instantly over stimulated, looking around desperately for a helpful sales associate. You try not to look at the price tags – you make great Pro Hero money now, but you’re still not used to splurging on silly things like underwear.

You wander the aisles, stopping at the holiday section. You warily eye a string bikini-esque number on an mannequin. It looks restrictive and uncomfortable, a bit like something a villain would use to restrain a civilian in peril. You shy away from the ensemble and continue browsing.

Finally, a perky salesgirl approaches you. “Hey there! Merry Christmas! How can I help you today?”

“Oh thank God.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m looking for something a little more…subtle.” You point vaguely at the strappy monstrosity to your left. “I have a big date tonight.”

The sales girl nods empathetically. “Let’s find something more your style!” She leads you up and down the aisles and points out a few pieces that are a bit more conservative for what she calls “beginner lingerie girlies.” It doesn’t take long for the two of you to pick out a few cute sets that are a bit lighter on the straps and lace.

“Now this one is sure to knock ‘em dead.” The salesgirl pulls out a ruby red bra and panties set that perfectly matches your nails. The bra is lacy but provides a good amount of coverage, with a few small bows and affixed to the straps and bra cups. The panties, you’re relieved to see, are not crotchless. They have a perfectly fine cotton gusset, thank goodness. The waistband is lacy and adorned with a few bows to match the bra, but it’s nothing crazy.

“This is honestly perfect. Just what I was looking for. You’re good.”

The girl smiles and laughs. “I’m a professional when it comes to the art of sexiness! Now let’s go have you try these on in the fitting room.”

It’s not long before you’re paying for the bright red set and the sales girl is packing it into a bag filled with glittery tissue paper.

“Good luck tonight!” She gives you a thumbs up as you put your wallet back in your purse and reach to loop the bag around your wrist. “Hold on…aren’t you a Pro Hero? Isn’t Shoto your boyfriend?”

“And that’s my queue to leave!” You sweep out of the shop before the girl can snap a picture of you lingerie shopping for your boyfriend. “Merry Christmas!”

You get home and deep clean your apartment, throwing your sheets into the wash and emptying the dishwasher for good measure. It’s been a while since you’ve made soba, so you pull up a few recipes on Pinterest and arrange all of the ingredients on the counter. Shoto will be thrilled, you can’t wait to see that bright starry look in his eyes when he realizes that he’s going to get to watch you busy in the kitchen. You see your cute checkered apron hanging on the back of the closet door and grab it in a sudden fit of inspiration. You’ll use it later.

After laying out all of the ingredients and tidying up the living room, you make your way to the bedroom where you layout your lingerie purchase. It’s cute, you decide. You like it a lot and you feel like it looks good on your muscular and scarred Pro Hero body. You’re a little bit jittery as you wonder at Shoto’s reaction. It’s been so long since you’ve felt sexy and fluttery like this – it reminds you of how you felt just out of school when Shoto asked you to dinner for the first time. It feels like that was forever ago…you’re so glad you still feel flirty and fun with Shoto a few years into your relationship.

You take your sheets and bedspread out of the drier and smooth it out onto your mattress, taking care to bat out any wrinkles and to fluff the pillows. You’re going to fuck Shoto senseless on this bed tonight, and you want it to be absolutely perfect.

You check your phone for the time and with a thrill realize that Shoto will be home to your apartment in less than a half hour. You quickly take off your clothes and grab the lingerie, ripping off the tags haphazardly and tossing them into your tiny wastebasket. You pull on the underwear and turn to look at yourself in your full length mirror. You’re pleased with how good you look – the bra makes your breasts look full and bouncy in a way that your Pro Hero costume simply does not. The panties are high waisted and cinch in your waist in a pleasing way, hugging your booty. Your ass looks down right smackable.

You finish the ensemble by tossing on your puffy checkered apron over the lingerie. You tie it in the back with a sweet little bow, pleased at how the skirt flares out and compliments your figure even more. From the front, you look fully clothed and as if you’re wearing a cute mini dress, the apron’s bib hiding your cleavage favorably. But from behind, you look sensual and illicit in your lacy, bowed underwear. You shiver a bit at the chill in your apartment – you don’t typically navigate your living space in nothing but underwear, and you make a mental note to turn up the heat before Shoto’s arrival.

You hurry back out to the kitchen to toss some slice and break crescent rolls into your little oven before Shoto arrives so that you’ll both have something to munch on as you prep the soba. Within ten minutes the dough has risen into beautiful golden brown rounds of bread on the cheap tiny pan. The oven has warmed up the apartment nicely and you don’t feel chilly anymore in your skimpy little outfit. You rest the hot pan on top of the oven and switch off the appliance. Shoto will arrive in any minute.

You dash back to your room to put the finishing touch on your outfit – throwing on what you affectionately call your “press event heels.” They are a pair of short patent leather kitten heels – a sleek and shiny black that compliments any outfit. You admire the full look in the mirror, pleased with yourself.

There’s a buzz at the door ��� Shoto!

You carefully sashay through your apartment, feeling hot and confident. You hit the button to buzz him up and smooth your apron-skirt as you wait. You hear his gentle footsteps down the hall, followed by his characteristic light knock on the door.

Demurely, you open the door.

Shoto walks in, already shedding his coat as he starts to speak about his day. “The agency was very busy today. I’m so glad I left when I did.” He turns to give you a kiss on the cheek and then catches a glimpse of your outfit. He steps back to admire the full look. His eyes bulge.

“This is…unexpected.” His jaw is slack and he stares at the way your long bare legs are exposed beneath the skirt of the apron. “Is this for me?”

You ignore him, biting back the Cheshire cat grin that threatens to give you away. “Sho, let me take your coat. I’ll hang it in the closet.”

He nods silently, still staring at your legs as he hands over his coat. You drape the jacket over the crook of your elbow and smooth out the wrinkles, tucking his bright red scarf into the coat sleeve for safekeeping.

This is your big moment. You take a deep breath and make a show of turning around so you can walk towards the closet.

You hear Shoto’s sharp intake of breath as he sees your backside. You can’t suppress your grin any longer as you make a show of swinging your hips the four steps it takes you to walk across the room. You let the jacket slip from your arm and onto the floor.

“Oh – oops!” You throw up your arms in surprise. “Let me pick that up…”

You slowly, sloooowly bend down to scoop up his jacket, giving Shoto a generous view of your lacy ass on the way down. You even wiggle it a little, letting your cheeks bounce with the movement. You grab the jacket and straighten back up.

“Now let me hang this up.” You open the closet and slip the jacket onto a hanger, glancing back over your shoulder with a dimpled smile to take in Shoto’s reaction.

He’s still standing in front of the door, absolutely dumbstruck. His jaw might as well be on the floor, and his eyes are bright in that special way they get when he’s horny.

“You like what you see?” You flash him a cheeky grin, slowly pressing your closet door shut. Before the door clicks into place, Shoto is striding towards you. In a rare show of aggression, he dips down and levels you, throwing you over his shoulder forcefully. You gasp in surprise as he hauls you towards your room, kicking your bedroom door open as he goes.

“Sho!” You cry out in shock, wiggling over his shoulder. He says nothing as he easily tosses you onto the bed, all Pro Hero muscles. You land with a soft thump on your tummy, bouncing a bit on the soft clean bedspread.

“Y/N.” Shoto says, his voice low and husky with want. You try to turn over but he places his hand lightly between your shoulder blades to hold you in place. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you right now.” There’s urgency in his voice you’ve never heard before – an edge. Your usual love making is fairly vanilla – all soft sighs and slow movements. Shoto likes to look at you while you fuck, likes to drink in your body with that intense gaze of his. This directness, this neediness – this is something new and thrilling for you. It zaps lightening bolts of arousal straight to your pussy in a way you never could have expected. You feel your brand new panties get damp at his tone alone.

“How do you want me, Sho?” You ask slyly, stopping your attempts to roll over to look at him. Instead, you slowly arch up your back and slide your knees forward to your chest so that your ass is tantalizingly up in the air.

“God. Just like that.” You can tell he’s struggling with his words right now as you shake your ass at him. He slips his thumb up the side of your bare leg and under the lacy material of your underwear where it covers your hip. He draws the fabric an inch or so into the air and then releases it so that it hits your skin with a light snap!

Fuck.

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” You call behind you, continuing to gyrate your hips in what you hope is a sensual way. You can just picture Shoto’s face right now –you bet he’s biting his lip the way he does when he wants you but he’s too polite to ask. He has far too many tells.

You feel his large hands grab the sides of your legs and slowly trace up up up over the sides of your thighs and ass, coming to rest on your hips. He lets his fingers get a good grip round the dip of your hips before he quickly pulls you backwards. You slide down the bed, letting out a small squeal of surprise and delight as you go. When he releases you, he has you bent over the edge of the bed, having guided your heel-clad feet to the ground. He uses his knee to spread your legs apart, keeping your ass on full display for him.

You never noticed how your bed is the perfect height for this. You shiver with delight as Shoto continues to run his fingers up and down your legs appreciatively. You hear the floor creak as he gets down on his knees behind you. You have no idea what he has in mind, but squeak in surprise as he brings a hand up to grab at the meat of your ass. He squeezes your right ass cheek experimentally, enjoying the way it jiggles. He then releases your skin, opting to smooth his thumb across the swell of your cheek gently. You feel yourself getting wetter with every caress and touch.

He lets his hands explore every hem and stitch of the lacy underwear. He starts at your butt – murmuring appreciatively as he pulls at the string-like thong that dips between your ass cheeks. He smooths his thumbs over the little bows sewed on at your hips, and traces light fingertips across the lace pattern at the elastic.

Once he’s had his fill with your backside, he slides his hand between your legs and gently caresses your pussy through your underwear. You let out a strangled moan as his index finger traces its familiar pattern over your leaking hole and up towards your clit. He plays with you for a bit through the thin, lacy fabric until you’re practically begging for him to strip you down and give you his cock.

“Sho…Sho please make love to me now. Sho I need you inside of me. I’m so wet and desperate and I need you to feel how much I love you. Shooo…” Usually this works – Shoto is a sucker for sweet talk and typically does anything you ask of him. But tonight, things are different.

“You’ll have my cock soon enough, sweet heart.” His voice is muffled as he presses a chaste kiss to your left ass cheek, pausing to nuzzle you with his nose. “Is this an early Christmas present for me?” He continues to play with your clit through the ruby red underwear. “You want me to unwrap you?”

“Yes. Yes – please Sho.” You groan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. At this point, your panties are soaked through and you know he can feel that. He drags his fingertips down from your clit and strokes gently up and down your slit through the panties. He’s teasing you, and you’re absolutely loving it.

In an unexpectedly swift motion, Shoto hooks his thumbs up under the lacy garment where it rests on your hips and he tugs it down, letting the panties rest down around your thighs.

“You’re so wet already.” He says in surprise, looking down at your practically ruined underwear. The entirety of the cotton gusset is dark with your arousal. You make a muffled noise into your bedspread as the cool air of the apartment hits your exposed pussy. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you soon – just hold on a little bit longer for me, okay?”

He grabs your cheeks and spreads them apart a bit, making you feel vulnerable but not in a bad way. You feel a finger explore your soaked pussy and you try to lean into the touch, but his caresses are so feather light you can’t get any good friction. He circles his finger lightly across your lips and up towards your core, gathering your slick on him like honey on a wand.

What happens next is something you never could have expected. He drags his wet dinger up, up, up and slowly begins to circle the pad of his finger against your asshole. He swirls it lightly so you can get every bit of sensation, gently so that you don’t buck up in surprise. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax into it. It’s alright, baby.” Shoto whispers reverently as he watches your body twitch with pleasure. This is not something you’ve ever done before. To be fair, it’s something you chatted about a few months ago when you discussed sexual interests and things you might want to try someday…but to be perfectly honest, playing with your ass is not something that Shoto has everexpressed interest in before.

And yet…he does it like a champ. Easing you in slowly, letting you explore the sensation of his finger pressing lightly against your tight hole. The unexpected pleasure makes your pussy clench and flutter and you let out a low moan of appreciation as he uses his other hand to press a finger inside your weeping cunt.

“How’s this, Y/N?” He lightly fingers you with his left hand while he continues to play with your ass with his right. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh yes Shoto...fuck. Fuck that feels amazing.” You choke out, hands gripping the bedspread desperately as he plays with you like he has all the time in the world.

“Just relax and enjoy it. For once, we have nowhere to be.” He says quietly. And you realize he’s absolutely right. This is the first time in a long time that the two of you aren’t on a tight schedule and can just…be.

“Fuck I love you Sho.” You say through gritted teeth as he presses a bit harder against the tight knot of your ass, sending sparks of pleasure deep into your body. Your cunt grips at his finger hungrily as he steadily pushes into you, letting you take whatever you need from him.

“This outfit is just…” Shoto can’t seem to find the words to describe what your lingerie set is doing to him. “The heels. The apron. The underwear.” He slides his finger out of your pussy and shifts away from you, you groan at the loss of contact. However, your disappointed grunt becomes a moan of pleasure as Shoto presses his face into you so he can lap at your pussy.

His tongue is magic as it presses into you, his hands coming to rest on your cheeks for leverage. He laps up your delicious taste, swirling his tongue around in a delightfully irregular pattern. It feels forceful and intentional in the best of ways, but you feel like he’s trying to do something specific.

“Shoto!” You gasp out, backing that ass up into his face and trying to grind into his tongue. “W-what are you – ah! – trying to do?”

After a moment, Shoto comes up for air. “I’m spelling my name with my tongue. Denki told me people find it hot.”

Okay, that is so unexpected but also…yeah! It’s weirdly hot! You want him to keep going.

“Fucking claim me, Shoto Todoroki. Write your name in my pussy with your fucking tongue.”

Shoto doesn’t move for a moment, you wonder if he’s considering your words. “You’re on the naughty list this year, aren’t you? I never realized what a dirty mouth you have.” Shoto says this in his typical flat tone, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah I’ve been pretty naughty, haven’t I?” You’re gonna dirty talk this bitch into fucking you. “Did I mention that I bought this outfit on your credit card? I might need someone to…” you wave your ass in the air, not caring that your slick is dripping down your thighs and that your underwear is still stretched between your legs like a hammock beneath your pussy. “…punish me.”

This sends Shoto over the edge. You hear the floor creak again beneath him as he moves to get to his feet. You grin stupidly into the bedspread as you hear his buckle come undone and his pants drop to the floor. He steps forward, slotting your legs between his own. Dress shoes framing your patent leather kitten heels.

A moment later, you feel the head of his thick, hard cock pressing against you. You mewl in satisfaction when he takes a moment to rub his hardness against your clit the way you like. It’s taken a lot of communication over the years, but Shoto now knows that you like to build anticipation up a little before you do the deed. He plays with your pussy for a moment before sliding his cock down along your lips and lining up with your entrance. His hands shift to grip your hips tightly.

“Let’s get you back on the nice list.” He says as he slowly pushes his cockhead into your throbbing pussy. The soft stretch around his cock is delightful and you cry out as he pushes inch after inch into your hungry pussy. A dicking down indeed.

It’s rare that you don’t use a condom – birth control made you feel like shit so you weren’t on the pill, and Shoto was typically such a gentleman and had assumed all contraceptive duties. He has your bedside drawer stocked with all varieties of condoms and spermicide. But tonight…well, tonight is something special because Shoto is sliding into you raw and unprotected.

The feeling of his bare skin is too much for you to handle and your legs start shaking before he even bottoms out inside of you. He must notice that you’re already close to falling over the edge, because he takes it extra slow. He sets a cruelly slow pace, sliding in and out of you so that he can feel every tremor of your pussy around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I wanted to make this night special, but I never imagined…” He thrusts into you with a little more force this time. “I never could have dreamed up this outfit of yours.” He picks up speed, a wet smacking noise fills the room as he fucks into you.

“I wanted to look – oh! – good for my favorite guy.” You practically purr. “Smack my ass?” You’re rewarded with a swift slap to your right cheek. You cry out in pleasure and your pussy throbs around Shoto’s cock. You feel him shudder in reply.

Shoto is usually one for slow missionary (or cowgirl if he’s feeling frisky). So being taken from behind is a novelty for you. You decide to throw it back, meeting every thrust with a bounce. Shoto grips your hips a little harder when he realizes what you’re doing, and you’re sure you’ll have finger print shaped bruises ingrained in your skin when you wake up in the morning.

“Y/N.” Shoto gasps out from behind you, definitely close to coming undone. “Y/N I love you...” He thrusts into you, hard. “So.” Thrust. “God.” Thrust. “Damn. “ Thrust. Thrust. “Much.”

“Fuck. Shoto – I’m gonna cum.” You cry out. It’s all too much for you – he’s just too damn hot and this position feels so fucking good and you think that doggy style might be forevermore your favorite sex position. At your words, Shoto starts to go deep. You feel yourself fluttering around him, desperate.

“Sweetheart. Cum around my cock?” Shoto’s voice is deep, near an octave lower than his usual voice as he groans at the feel of you around him. You can’t resist the way he talks to you. You fall over the edge moments later, your pussy throbbing and pulling at his cock as you ride out your high.

“Sho!” You cry out, creaming around his cock like some sort of porn star, throwing your ass back as you let him fuck you through it.

“Ah – fuck! Y/N. You feel so good, I can’t…” Shoto scrambles to pull out of you before he cums. Honestly, you’re surprised he makes it out alive. He hear the gentle smack of him jerking at his dick a few times before you feel his warm cum splatter across your back and ass, painting you with his pleasure. He finishes himself off before dropping onto the mattress next to you, breathing hard.

You lay in silence for a moment – you on your stomach and he on his back. You both take a moment to catch your breath.

“That was…” Shoto finally breaks the silence, unable to come up with the right words to describe the scene that just transpired.

“Yeah.” You say, laughter bubbling up inside of you. “Sho, where did that animosity come from? You’ve never picked me up like that before. And then you played with my ass? Were you planning that!?”

Shoto turns to look at you, his usually stoic face cracking into a smile. You turn to look back at him, noting that he looks a little silly wearing a dress shirt with nothing on from the waist down.

“You’re rocking a pooh bear look, by the way.” You add, pointing at his current outfit situation. He laughs at you and sits up.

“It’s just been so long since we’ve made love. And something about this outfit of yours just…” Shoto shrugs; getting to his feet and walking to the drawer he knows contains clean towels. He grabs a thick grey washcloth and returns to the bed so he can smooth it across your back and ass, cleaning up his thick ropes of cum. “I’ve been wanting to explore more with you for a while. It felt like a good time to try something new.”

“I liked seeing that side of you.” You hum appreciatively as he lifts your left leg and carefully removes your foot from the kitten heel. You didn’t realize how sore fucking in heels can make someone. He helps you to remove the other shoe so you can shift into a more comfortable position on the bed. “So you like lingerie, I take it?”

Shoto smiles as he pulls back on his boxers. “It seems that I do.”

You flop back on the bed, watching him unbutton his dress shirt. He’s so beautiful like this – his Pro Hero abs peak out from under his shirt delectably. You want to worship this man and his beautiful body. You want to press kisses to each curve of muscle until he fully understands just how much you adore him.

 He walks back to your dresser and pulls open his designated drawer so he can grab one of his favorite old All Might shirts.

“And you haven’t even seen the bra yet.”

His eyes widen comically in response. “…there’s more?”

You reach behind you and undo the bow at your back before slipping the apron up and over your head. You toss it to the floor. Shoto drops his All Might shirt to the ground in surprise.

He stares at you, awestruck, as you sit atop your bed in nothing but a lacy red bra. Your pussy is fully out and you’re sweaty with messed up hair, and he’s looking at you like you’re a goddess that’s just descended from the heavens. You can’t help but laugh at the dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Alright, so I think we’ve found a new kink for you, Sho. Good thing the local lingerie store has plenty of options for us to try.”

Shoto tries to shake his head to clear it, but fails miserably. He just keeps staring at you with that intense gaze of his. “Okay. Yes. This is something that I definitely like.” He bites his lip the way he does when he’s turned on, and you know in your bones that round 2 will be even more mind blowing than round 1. You start to spread your legs apart to invite him back to bed, but then your stomach growls loudly. You think longingly of the hot crescent rolls waiting in the kitchen on the stove.

“Babe…I have an idea.” You say, motioning for him to pick up his t-shirt from where it lays in a sad heap on the ground. “Let’s make dinner first, then we can come back here and explore this new kink of yours.”

Shoto’s face perks up at the mention of food. You bet he hasn’t eaten since lunch a the agency – he’s likely starving too.

“We’re going to cook dinner?” He asks, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice. Takeout is usually the go-to for you both.

“Correction – I’m going to cook dinner. In my new lacy lingerie. And you’re going to watch.” You smile widely as he blushes. You can see the wheels turning in his head – he’s loving this idea. You’re tired and spent but you already can’t wait to be back underneath him with that wonderdick inside of you.

He nods enthusiastically, his own smile wide and bright. He reaches down to grab the tee and pulls it on in a single swift motion. You follow his lead and scamper to your dresser to grab a pair of clean panties. You find a nice plain pair that’s a shade of red off from your bra, but it will have to do. You step into the clean underwear and pull it on snuggly.

You grab Shoto’s hand to drag him to the kitchen.

“What are you making?” He asks eagerly, eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as he follows behind you.

“Your favorite – cold soba.” You smile over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the stove.

“You are the love of my life and this is officially the best Christmas Eve ever.” Shoto says, grabbing your face so he can kiss you soundly. You lean into the kiss, happy to have a rare evening off with Sho. He presses another kiss to your mouth. "It's like you're all wrapped up in a bow just for me tonight."

"Only for you, babe." You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Shoto."

The End. ❤️

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

Okayyyy I hope you liked this holiday one shot! I churned this out and didn't get a chance to edit, so I hope it's alright despite not being my cleanest work! I purposefully didn't put in a lot of dialogue because I think that Shoto is more of an "actions speak louder than words" kind of person in the bedroom. He has slowly learned to add dirty talk into the mix because the Reader has asked him to over the years, but honestly he still doesn't talk that much during sex. I personally love a man who will talk you through it, but that's just not our Sho!

Alright...back into my cave so I can work on Shoto's First Kiss Part 8!

Happy Holidays, all!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Here's my Master List! 🔥

[macabrebatz]

GIFT EXCHANGE (Art the Clown/Reader)

Pt. 2 of O, Christmas Tree

Summary: You celebrate Christmas with Art

Author’s Note: Meant to post this on Christmas Day but I felt like crap. Hope you all enjoy a little late Christmas fluff. Happy holidays to everyone! Also thank you @hauntedfoodie for the this cute idea of exchanging gifts with Art!

Warnings/tags: Fluff, Art being Art, reader is filled with anxiety mainly due to Art, Vicky is briefly mentioned, gender neutral reader, spot the Scream reference, can be read as platonic or romantic to be honest, once again…are they roommates or lovers? You decide.

It had been a few weeks since Art had surprised you by decorating for Christmas. The tree he had gotten sat as a constant reminder of his rare but much-needed kindness.

Christmas was only in a few days. You couldn’t help but stare at the gifts below the tree. Your curiosity was getting the better of you.

At first, you had been very concerned about the gifts under the tree. What Art did was a kind gesture. Sure. But you knew Art. You knew the kind of being he was. You weren’t oblivious.

You’ve received presents from Art in the past. Presents is a strong word actually. What you had received was more of what you would call “evidence from a crime scene that Art most definitely caused wrapped up in a little box with a bow”.

However, your concern slowly dissipated when you found yourself examining the gift boxes early one morning. Art had wandered off, nowhere to be found. You had figured he was out on one of his usual sprees. Since you were alone you took the opportunity to sit in front of the tree, picking up each box.

There weren’t many which you saw as a good thing. If there were any body parts in them at least it wouldn’t be a lot.

You looked for anything that could be a sign of something gross or disturbing. No boxes were leaking any blood so that was a good start. None of the boxes smelled bad which was another good sign.

You picked up one of the black boxes, examining it with your hands. No blood, no smell. Much like the others.

You gave it a gentle shake and sighed in relief. For a moment you were scared that you might hear something crawling around in one of the boxes. You wouldn’t have been shocked if Art had snuck one of Vicky’s rats in the box to scare you.

You sat the box down with the others and a small smile spread across your face. You were still mentally preparing yourself. Just because he had opted out of body parts doesn’t mean that Art’s presents were going to be a joy to open. But you were still pleasantly surprised that the presents under the tree seemed fairly normal.

A few days passed and Christmas Eve was in full swing. Art had showed up at your house, covered in blood. The white trim of the Santa costume was no longer white. It wasn’t surprising to you. It was a routine at this point.

Art would leave for a prolonged amount of time, sometimes even days. Then he’d come to your house and you’d help clean him up. Despite his teeth and occasionally his hands, Art surprisingly seemed to like being clean after a long day of causing absolute mayhem. You would never fuss when he got blood all over your floor. And he would never put up a fuss when you lead him to the bathroom and put him in the shower.

Art had finished his shower before either of his costumes had dried all the way. You couldn’t convince him to wear anything different so he opted to roam around the house nude.

“Are you not cold?” You questioned.

He simply shook his head with a smile. You couldn’t help but giggle as he sauntered off.

Eventually, the suit was dry and you took it to Art, who got dressed.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You asked the clown, watching him as he pulled his gloves onto his hand.

Art perked up and put his finger to his lips, tapping as if he were thinking of an answer. He grinned, nodding his head.

You both made your way to the living room and got comfortable on the couch. You found yourself watching multiple movies. A couple of Christmas classics and a couple of horror movies. Eventually, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, your head falling onto Art.

The next morning you woke up from your curled position on the couch, jumping at the sight of Art right in your face. He was sitting on the floor in front of you, silently staring at you with a smile on his face. On his head, he donned a Santa hat. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he had sat there like that. You weren’t fully sure if he even needed to sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Art.”

He stood up and grabbed your arms, pulling you up to a sitting position. He then walked over to the Christmas tree and picked up one of the black boxes under it.

Your stomach did a flip as he placed the box in your hands. It was rather light and it was wrapped up nicely with a little red bow on top.

Art sat down on the floor, crossing his legs. He patted his knees as he smiled at you.

All you could do was hope that whatever was in the box was normal as you hesitantly began unwrapping the box. Art was grinning ear to ear and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The wrapping paper dropped onto the floor as you began to open the box. Inside was crinkly, red paper that you pulled out of the box. Underneath was an oversized dark red sweater. You pulled it out slowly, holding it up to look at it. Your fingers ran over the material. It was a good-quality sweater. You weren’t sure how or where Art had gotten it. It wasn’t like he was the type to go shopping. But he was the type to take stuff. You shrugged off the mental image of Art taking it from one of his victims. It was best not to linger.

You held up the sweater and smiled. It didn’t really matter where he got it, you couldn’t believe that Art had gotten you something so nice.

“Thank you so much, Art,” you said.

You slid down off of the couch onto the floor in front of where he sat and leaned over to hug him. He excitedly embraced you back.

You pulled off of him and looked under the tree.

“Okay, you’re next,” you said.

Art made a shocked face as if he were going to say, “You got a present for me?”

You grabbed a red box you had put under the tree a few days ago and Art gleefully took it from your hands. He quickly ripped off the wrapping and opened the box revealing a Bowie knife with a shiny white handle.

Art flipped it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. He grinned as he slid his finger along the blade and poked the tip of his digit on the pointed end.

“I was watching this movie while you were gone and these killers had a knife like that. I thought you would like it. And then I may or may not have snuck into the workshop to see if you already had one. And you didn’t, which is surprising-”

Art caused you to stop rambling when he surprised you with a hug. He never stopped you from hugging him but it was rare that he initiated it. He wrapped his arms around you. It was his way of silently thanking you.

You pulled away from Art with a smile. You glanced at the presents under the tree.

“Ready for the next one?” you asked.

Art nodded, clapping his hands together excitedly.

From the outside, the situation you found yourself in was odd, to say the least. Maybe it was even a little concerning. Living with a murderous clown wasn’t really on your bucket list nor did you ever expect to be spending a holiday with one. But here you were, exchanging gifts with the Miles County Clown. But despite the absurdity of it all, maybe spending Christmas with him wasn’t so bad after all.

[jobean12-blog]

Forever After All

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader (fake dating/marriage)

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: You and Javi have been working together for a few months and you can't deny that you like him...everything about him. And you know you're not imaginging the subtle flirting and lingering glances but when you have an assignment that puts you two closer than you've ever been before you find out what it all really means.

Author's Note: Pedro and his little Holiday getaway photos have been a gift and when I was talking to my lovely friend @lizette50 (thank you bunches for sharing your brain with me❤️🥰) she made an amazing note that he is giving Javi on vacation vibes. And while Javi isn't exactly on a vacation in this story...he's pretending to be- at least at first. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

PS I did leave the ending a bit open...maybe I'll do more. Maybe not lol Either way, fear not- you and Javi make out just fine (hehe get it)

Warnings: There's some tension and flirting and Steve is fun sidekick/meddler, feelings get involved, Javi can act a bit possessive and he's a great fucking kisser

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Why are you two looking at me like that?” Steve asks, his head on a swivel. “Do you not understand the assignment?”

His finger swings back and forth. “You two…just got married. Now you’re going on your honeymoon. Make it look believable, or we’re fucked.”

Javi swallows and the sound is audible in the silence that stretches between you. Finally, as you cross your arms over your chest and lift your chin, you say, “fine. I can manage that.”

Steve smiles and then shifts his eyes to Javi. “What about you? Because if you’re not up for it I sure as hell don’t mind switching places with you. You can do my job, and I’ll prance around the beach with this beauty.”

Steve throws you a wink and you smile sweetly but your stomach is in knots and you’re sweating under your shirt as you wait for Javi to say something.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says gruffly. “When do we leave.”

“Tonight,” Steve answers with a grin. “Packed and ready at 7pm.”

Javi nods and gives you one last glance, his eyes lingering just long enough to have your skin heat before he stalks off and shuts the door to his office.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

“I’ll see you at the airport,” you tell Steve.

After the flight attendant checks the luggage above your head you settle into your seat, leaning closer to Steve since Javi has his legs spread like he’s the only person in the aisle.

“You could leave some room for the rest of us,” you grumble, letting your eyes run down Javi’s long legs.

He turns toward you, lifting a brow. “We should be all snuggled up anyway,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes and give Steve a pleading look.

“He’s right though,” Steve adds. “You two are going to have to look convincing if we’re going to pull this off. Might as well start getting cozy now.”

The flight isn’t too long but toward the last hour you start to feel your eyes droop and Javi’s warm body is so close. Before you realize what’s happening your head falls against his shoulder and your arm slips under his.

You feel him shift and maybe feel the slightest squeeze at your knee but you’re too sleepy to know if it’s real or a dream. He smells so good and feels even better and in minutes you’re fast asleep.

“Hey…pst. Come on angel, you gotta get up.”

You sit up with a start and rub at your eyes.

“Angel?” you ask. “Who’s that?”

Your eyes focus on Javi, and he smiles.

“That’s what I’m calling you. Get used to it.”

Your mouth opens to form an O shape.

“Let’s go. We just landed,” he says.

“How long was I out?”

Steve cuts in before Javi can answer.

“Long enough to fall asleep on your husband!” Steve says with vigor. “You two look cute.”

You push past Steve and miss the thumbs up he gives Javi, who ignores him completely.

The hotel is right on the beach, and you can smell the salty air before you even get to the double doors.

Once you’re checked in and settled in your room you’re ready to crash again. After a quick shower you wrap yourself up in the hotel bathrobe and crawl into bed, falling asleep to thoughts of Javi and how comfortable he was to sleep against.

Steve meets you at the outdoor bar on the beach the next day.

“How are my favorite liars doing?” he asks with a chuckle.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you whisper.

“You’re going to do great,” Steve assures you.

Javi remains characteristically quiet, his dark eyes assessing everything around him.

Steve hands Javi a drink. “She looks fucking gorgeous. You should really marry her.”

Javi’s eyes slide to you then down along your body slowly before stopping at your face.

He licks his lips and takes a long sip of his drink but doesn’t respond.

You spend some time at the bar, taking note of the surroundings and zeroing in on your target. Once the man in question notices you as the newcomers he saunters over with a saccharine smile.

You all know about Rafael Caro Quintero. He’s one of Galldaro’s best men but plays his role out in the public eye. He has a lot of money and flaunts it with his businesses and assets. You have intel that he’s going to pull off a big move this weekend and are using the honeymoon as a cover as to why you’re here in Mexico.

Javi’s arm circles around your waist and he pulls you against his side, tightening his grip when Rafael approaches and looks you over appreciatively.

“Well, well, well,” Rafael says smoothly. “What do we have here? I always make sure to say hi to any new faces that come to enjoy my…amenities. Especially one so stunning.”

“My wife,” Javi says, his voice too rough and you give him a light pinch. He looks down at you then let’s his shoulders relax.

“Ah, of course,” Rafael says. “And you’re the lucky bastard who married her.”

“Mexico is one of my favorite places to visit,” you interrupt as you hold out your hand to introduce yourself. “So, Javi and I decided it would be perfect for our honeymoon.”

Rafael’s face lights up and he throws up his hands, making a loud noise of celebration.

“Isn’t that just beautiful,” he says, his voice still booming. “Everyone! Join me in congratulating the lovely couple!”

He starts to clap and all the patrons in the bar area join in, hoisting their drinks and smiling.

Rafael reaches for a spoon from the bar and starts to tap the side of his glass. “Isn’t this what the American’s do for a kiss?”

Steve lifts his glass and turns to you and Javi. “It sure is!”

Javi looks down at you, and through a tight grin whispers, “I’m going to kiss you angel.”

He waits a beat, needing to see the consent in your eyes.

You nod ever so slightly and lean into him. A big hand comes up, cupping your jaw and his eyes drop to your mouth. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.

You’re going to be devasted if that’s all you get, but then you hear the quietest moan escape his throat and he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently before he turns his attention to your bottom one.

With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and takes you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re falling backward into the clouds.

Or maybe it’s the way he’s cupping the back of your head in one hand, holding you around the waist int other, and dipping you so low you’re nearly on the floor.

Everything is quiet before cheers erupt as Javi smoothly brings you back up in some sexy move you can’t even believe he pulled off.

“Javier Peña,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, we’re just getting started Mrs. Peña,” he answers back against your ear.

Rafael’s eyes are lit up with glee and he slaps Javi on the back.

“To the newlyweds!” he cheers.

After things settle back down and Rafael’s attention is elsewhere Steve gives both you and Javi a beaming smile. “Wow. For a minute there you even had me believing it,” he teases.

Javi meets your gaze, his eyes falling to your lips again, and he fights the urge to go back for more.

Blinking away, he focuses on your shoulder, and on the strap of your dress that has slipped an inch to the side. He reaches up, stroking the newly exposed skin with his thumb.

Your hand lifts to your lips, still tingling with the warmth of his kiss.

“You’re good at that,” you say quietly.

“At what?” he asks, clearly distracted by your mouth.

“Fake-kissing.”

He hums, his head spinning with the thought that nothing about that felt fake.

“I wonder how you kiss when it’s real,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else.

He’s about to drag you away from the crowd to show you when the bartender shows up with more drinks, on the house of course, to celebrate the newlyweds.

You spend some more time at the bar, talking and enjoying the view, always close to Javi, his hand on your lower back, your arm, or his thumb brushing across your cheek. It’s been so easy to fall into the role you almost forget you’re faking it.

Steve leaves the two of you alone, not wanting to hang around too much and seem suspicious.

You watch Javi as he stares out over the water and take a step closer, moving into his space, realizing the moment he registers that he��d been touching you…a soft sweep of his fingers along the curve of your waist.

His eyes go a little wide behind his sunglasses, and he gently moves his hand away.

“Are you nervous?” you ask him.

He shakes his head no. “Not for the reason I should be,” he says but doesn’t elaborate.

You’re about to ask him to explain but you spot Rafael across the bar, he’s talking quietly to someone you don’t recognize and his eyes keeping darting in your direction.

Without letting it show on your face that you’ve noticed him, you press yourself against Javi, your hand sliding up his chest to the open buttons of his shirt.

“Hi,” Javi murmurs.

“Don’t look, but Rafael is just across the bar. He’s sort of watching us.”

Javi drags his attention away from your hand to your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So don’t mind me. I’m just trying to look wifey and horny for you.”

“We could just go for a walk on the beach,” he says.

“We could, but…”

Your fingers dip into his shirt to feel his warm skin and you move lower, undoing one more of the buttons.

“Pretending you’re horny too might be better.”

He stares at you, unmoving.

“Or not,” you say, smiling but inside you’re dissolving, piece by piece, in mortification.

When you try to move away he grabs your waist. “Where are you going?”

“To live with my shame alone somewhere.”

Javi laughs, low and dangerous. “No. You misunderstand me angel. My only hesitation is…” and he leans in, running his thumb along your lower lip, “acting was never my strong suit.”

His mouth brushes over yours, giving you one of those feather-soft kisses again.

“That’s a start,” you say as you share a breath.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Anything that can make it more convincing?”

“Another. Maybe longer this time?”

He lifts both hands now, cupping your face and leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth before he parts his lips and gently nips at your bottom one.

“Longer, huh?”

Your hands slide around his neck, and you stretch for more, for longer and deeper, his surprised huffed breath coming out warm against your mouth as he lets you suck his beautiful lower lip, dragging your teeth along it in a way that makes him let go of a tight, helpless sound.

His mouth is unreal, commanding and firm, but with full, soft lips that beg to be bitten. And he likes it when you do it too, releasing rough, rumbling sounds to confirm it.

Your hands have a mind of their own, rising up and tangling in his hair as the kiss deepens and he sends one hand down your back to your ass, pulling you closer until you can feel the hard press of him against your stomach.

With a gasp of air, he rests his forehead to yours but keeps a tight hold on you.

“Are you sure you’re not good at this acting thing?” you ask with a teasing smile. “The erection is a great touch. Very convincing.”

His laugh turns into a groan when you suck on his neck, baring your teeth and pressing down.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Your nails scrape along his scalp and with his own grip on the back of your neck he pulls your head away, eyes wild, and comes for your mouth again, setting a languid pace, dragging his tongue over your lower lip with kisses that can only be described as claiming.

“Fuck angel, your mouth is amazing,” he says, sliding his lips along your jaw and down to your pulse point.

Despite the heat of the sun and the heat of him, you shiver in his arms, pressing yourself along every inch of him to keep yourself upright.

Your gaze flicks over his shoulder and you notice Rafael is gone.

“Our friend left,” you whisper, still clinging to him.

Javi exhales a shaky breath near your ear and rests his cheek to yours.

“Well…I guess we can stop then.”

“I guess we can,” you reply, leaning back and taking him in- mussed hair, swollen lips, a small budding bruise on his neck.

“Oops,” you giggle.

He frowns at you. “Did you leave a mark on me?”

“Mayyyybeee,” you sing.

You don’t miss the way his pupils dilate, inky black in the dark chocolate brown of his irises.

“Well, good news is now everyone will know for sure that you’re taken,” you say with a bright smile.

Your eyes drop down to his shorts, and you let out a little whimper at the sight of him hard and pressed against the tight fabric.

“I’m going to take a cold shower,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want you back in the hotel room where you’re safe.”

Your eyebrows meet your hairline. “Oh, so you’re that kind of husband?”

“Just protecting what’s mine,” he whispers as he presses his palm to your lower back and leads you away from the beach.

Javi secures you in your room before walking across the hallway to his. He’s sure to check for anyone who might see before disappearing behind the door.

You’ve agreed to meet for a romantic dinner on the beach at one of Rafael’s best restaurants, the very place you’re hoping to catch him in the act.

Javi knocks on your door right on time and you smooth your hands along your dress before opening it.

He steps back from the doorframe and stares. A shadow appears behind him, and he startles.

“Steve,” he says dryly, putting a hand on his shoulder and moving him away.

Javi gazes at you, and more gently, says, “hi angel.”

“Hi,” you breathe out.

“You look…” he just stares, letting his eyes rake over you. “Gorgeous.”

“That she does,” Steve chimes in from beside you again. “Now…off you go.”

Javi reaches for you, but you can’t stop yourself, pressing your hand to his stomach and wrapping your fist around the soft fabric of his shirt.

You briefly glance at Steve, a silent but friendly, “fuck off,” written all over your expression.

With a smirk, Steve wanders off, but Javi touches a finger to your chin, redirecting your attention to his face. And before you can say anything, he bends, setting his lip softly on yours.

One soft kiss, and then another. Your blood turns to molten heat, and you lean in, chasing his lips when he slowly straightens.

After you enjoy your dinner, the slow and soft tunes of music drift from the stage set up to the side and Javi holds out his hand.

“Would you dance with me?” he asks.

You take his hand and let him draw you out of your seat and lead you \ to the open expanse of sand. His big palm feels like fire on your lower back, and he tucks your hand against his chest, pressing his cheek to yours as he moves you around slowly.

After a few quiet moments you pulls back, looking at your mouth.

“My instinct is to kiss you now.”

“That’s certainly what a married couple would do,” you whisper.

He sends one hand along the curve of your spine, tracing every inch until it’s over your shoulder and higher, where he cups the side of your neck with his big, warm hand. His eyes fall closed, and he leans in, pressing his mouth to yours.

Slow, deliberate kisses, Chaste, because you’re out in the middle of the dance floor but still so intentional, so claiming, so thorough you feel the sweet exploration in your fingertips and spine, in your chest and your stomach and between your legs.

The song comes to an end, and he pulls away, searching your expression before softly taking your hand and leading you back to your table but instead walks past it toward the darkened water.

The moon reflects a million overlapping crescents across the rippling surface of the ocean and the sky is blanketed with stars. You stop, hand in hand, and take it all in.

“This place really is beautiful. It’s so easy to believe we’re just here to enjoy it all.”

He nods, his eyes trained on you instead of the scene in front of him. Wrapping his arms around our waist he pulls you close then slides one hand down your stomach, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress and coaxing it higher up your thighs.

He reaches your hip, his eyes still trained on you and his voice pained when he says, “you’re not wearing any underwear.”

“Everything showed. I hate lines and didn’t have a thong with me.”

“You drive me crazy,” he says, kissing along your shoulder. “I’m distracted and I shouldn’t be. This was all supposed to be a ruse, but I can’t pretend anymore.”

His fingers trail back up your spine, reaching the strap of your dress and drawing it off one shoulder, kissing the skin there.

“I was never pretending,” he murmurs.

“Javi.”

Your sharp inhale is swallowed by his kiss. It doesn’t last long enough, and he rests his forehead to yours, his lips teasing, his nose brushing yours.

“I can’t stop,” he groans. “I need to feel you.”

You chase his lips, and he kisses you again but pulls away.

“But we can’t. Not now angel.”  

You nod but pull his mouth to yours again, kissing him hungrily, whispering the truth.

“I want you Javi.”

“You can have me angel,” he says. “I’m all yours. But we have a job to finish first. I can’t risk putting you in anymore danger.”  

With a breathless “ok,” you tug free of his grasp and straighten your dress. As you start to head back toward the restaurant he grabs your hand and drags you into his chest.

“Promise me,” he says between kisses, “you’ll be safe…you’ll follow orders.”

“Orders?” you ask with a raised brow. “I probably shouldn’t like that you said that but fine. And what about you Javi? I need you to be careful too.”

“I promise,” he whispers. “I’m going to finish this so I can take you home and make you mine. The right way.”

[dearpyramus]

Hey you 🤗

I love love love your Dad!Carmen Masterlist! Read all of your Blurbs and Oneshots 😚👌🏻

Can i put in a request for Dad!Carmen?

I myself am 15 weeks pregnant, coming out of the nausea and vomiting phase but it hits back sometimes... This week i found back to enjoy cooking again but last night i cooked this amazing meal for my family only to feel nausea while serving the food and not able to eat and enjoy it with my family...

Would write something similar with Dad!Carmen?

If you're not up for it, i understand!

Hug n kiss 🧡

hiiii. first off im so so sorry this took so long answer!! ive been so busy and wanted to do this right!! also congratulations and i hope ur feeling well 🫶 and it means a lot ur enjoy dad!carmen. im always happy to provide. also i know next to nothing about cooking i just picked a random dish lmao

tw: nausea (nothing graphic)

it was an exciting day for your husband. you had officially gotten out of the nausea period of your pregnancy and you were celebrating with some homemade lasagna. it was always a favorite of yours and you missed it dearly when you could barely smell it without heaving.

at least, you thought the nausea period was over. you prayed that it was over.

As of late, it wasn’t uncommon for you to awake to carmen murmuring softly to your bump.

Soft curls caressed your belly as your bleary eyes prepared for the morning. Gentle hums and soothing rubs pressed on your abdomen as you awoken for the day.

Carmy had been obsessed with your unborn baby since the day you told him you were expecting. It was a constant for him to be talking to your bump and to look out for you and make sure you weren’t over exerting yourself. He held your hair back as you emptied the contents of your stomach due to morning sickness, whispering reassurances and rubbing circles into your back. He made sprite and was patient when you could barely do anything due to nausea.

“Good morning baby. How are’y today?” he murmured into your protruding stomach. You couldn’t help yourself from stroking his hair as he talked to your baby, something you always did.

Suddenly you felt him pressing more into your bump, as if he was trying to hear something.

“Hey, I think I felt little one kicking!”

He said eagerly, causing you to laugh. You felt bad as you realized the reality of the situation.

“It’s too early still to feel their kicks. It’s probably my stomach. Me and little one are hungry,” you chucked.

Carmy knew you were right but still wanted to entertain the fantasy of feeling his baby’s kicks for the first time. He really was eager.

He presses tender kisses on your tummy at your words and giggles. You’ve been hearing a lot of those lately. He constantly wanted to be in tune to what you craved and didn’t. While the morning sickness was waning, he still wanted to be careful. He always was trying his best to be careful for you and the baby.

He murmured something about having a nice recipe that you and the baby would enjoy. He rubbed your belly and gave it another peck before departing to the kitchen, instructing you to stay put. He would rather die than to see your exerting yourself, even if you weren’t that pregnant yet.

You waited patiently as he prepared a dish for you. Chicken fettuccine alfredo. It was always your favorite when you and him ate together. Nowadays, you prayed you were able to keep it down. The morning sickness had subsided, it seemed, so surely that would be the case.

It wasn’t until he presented the dish and you were slammed with a waved a nausea that you knew it was different. You mentally wished to kick yourself: you thought things were different. You were under the impression the morning sickness was through. You so badly wanted to enjoy your husband’s cooking. After all, he never failed to put his heart and soul into his every dish.

You attempted to try a taste. Shortly after, you had to excuse yourself to heave the small bite into the toilet. You mentally cursed yourself. You felt so useless. You couldn’t even enjoy the home cooked meal Carmen made with love for you.

In a gist he was by your side, stroking your back and holding back your locks as you heaved into the toilet. He put all this love and care into the meal only for you to puke it up shortly after. You mentally cursed yourself as you thought your morning sickness had subsided.

You were to frantically apologize, much to Carmy’s concern. He was quick to shush you and stroke your hair.

“Hey baby, it’s okay. I know you’re still feeling bad. It’s okay,” he cooed.

You were always so grateful for him, especially now b

[changbinsboobs]

Who in Skz goes out clubbing?

Hello guys im back🌝

Aaannnnddd the answers will probably shock you. Def shocked me 👁️👄👁️

Chan - yes occasionally on the regular. Like if the phase is tight i see him going weekly or something, but always with a group of friends and always for fun, social interactions etc. Not to get drunk, pick up women and be a lil rascal.

Lee Know - no he prefers his solitude and peace and quite. Also the night is dark for a reason he says, when its dark you should be home sleeping. Instead of doing other stuff.

Changbin - feels socially pressured. If he goes he goes against his will. I feel like he may be in circles with very social people who like s bit wilder things than him, and even tho that's not so much his thing he wants to make his friends happy and spend time with them so he goes every once in a while but i don't see him staying long or being active, u probably wouldn't even notice he's there. Its really not his thing.

Hyunjin - he goes but rarely and its intentional. Like he doesn't go there just to let some steam of or just because someone invited him. He has to have a reason to go and a mission to fulfill. I see him going more to social networking partys. (The other guys probably too, like i don't see idols like them going to regular clubs😂). But for hyunjin i see when he goes out partying its something like an after party or a private party involving certain important people etc. He goes to things like this to put himself out there, make himself be seen, win opportunities, get acquainted with people that could be helpful to him etc. It's more like a job to him than leisure.

Han - Im seeing two polar opposites, struggled, something addiction. So if i have to string everything that im picking together i would say he either hates it and u CAN'T force him under any circumstances to go - or he suddenly loves it and get so addicted to it you can't keep him out if the "club". But that energy's really heavy and not nice at all. Reminds me of someone with a gambling problem - that type of addictive.

Felix - isn't up to his values, he has better things to do than that. I see him having went in the past while he was still "undeveloped" (his words not mine if y'all crazy felix fans come at me again im blocking ur asses IMMEDIATELY🫵🏻😤) bubnoe that he's ~mature~ stuff like thats not up to his standard. Seriously tho idk when that shift happened exactly but in the time frame of 6 months (since around i started my acc and have been reading on him) his energy has changed sooooo soooo much. I think he's going through a phase of discovering himself and building his own sense of self. As someone who can definitely relate and would say is already on the other side, i think his transformation/ rebirth hasn't really finished. Let me explain - in the past his energy felt really really strong but u couldn't see/dense it probably it was very mellow, unused, unseen by himself even, it was very very weird seeing someone with that much power not having it utilized. It felt unsettling (now i think i understand why but thats a topic for another time). He didn't really have a sense of self, was very easily swayed, influenced, and didn't really know much about himself or the world, he just felt like a little newborn and went along with the flow not really having a steering wheel i his hands he just sat on other peoples boats and floated on it and let himself be taken by wherever others brought him. This however is not the case anymore - he has his own boat, and now thinks that having a boat means the work is done and he has found his sense of self and knows who he is etc. But thats just the first step, the actual work/journey begins now. He has to learn how his boat works, learn to navigate tides, to know his surroundings to interact with other boaters (idk what they're called). U get where im going at? And oftentimes with people that have been denied their power, freedom and sense of self, and finally come to a point where they reclaim those they switch to a polar opposite of what they were before because that past self is what others were, not u, so the brain makes u go the opposite way to find urself. I see felix being in THAT stage. His energy once very fluid & accepting, suddenly feels very rigid and convinced of certain beliefs and values, he doesn't seem to have the ground to be so convinced in yk. Because that switch is so sudden. So yeah in short i believe he's on a journey of discovering himself and now he's experiencing the stage of the "other side". Eventually he'll come to a crash out, live the consequences from the breakdown and within the healing period he'll actually find his true sense of self and begin from then nurturing that seed and "growing himself" more and more as time goes. Thats my prediction.

Seungmin - loves them 👁️👄👁️ it's really his thing i think he's a hidden charmer. Like ... an actual actual charmer a casanova, a don juan. Those a mainly directed to seducing women tho, i don't see him having that reputation, he's just overall charming and can attract lots of people, feels good in that energy can entertain and just overall he's made for parties and clubbing apparently. It gives him energy & confidence.

I.N - loves clubbing too and does it quite often. Like i see him whenever he can he goes out could be as often as every night or every other night. Definitely a couple times a week. There's not much else to pick up on here, idk why he öikes it so much or what he does when he goes out but yeah he does it often.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 16 - Summer: A Homecoming

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You go home to attend your sister's birthday party.

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette standing in wherever this is

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“The guesthouse has already been prepared for you, Monsieur Neuvillette. I hope it is to your standards. If you find anything lacking, please inform me or Mrs. Bernard immediately.”

“Thank you, madame, but considering the warm hospitality and consideration I have received from you and your family since I arrived here, I doubt that will be needed,” Neuvillette assured your mother, who seemed to blush at his words. 

“Oh...oh my, such kind words,” your mother stammered out, ignoring your pleading look. “W-well then, I shall take my leave now. Breakfast shall be served to you first thing in the morning. I wish you a very good night.”

With that, your mother left the room, closing the door behind her, which, in turn, locked you in with Neuvillette.

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this unthinkable situation you somehow found yourself in.

“It appears that we are to share a bed for the night, Madame. I hope that doesn’t cause you any discomfort,” he said at last, though the furrow in his brow indicated that the question should have been asked to him instead.

“Yes. It appears so,” you nodded, trying to quell your flipping stomach. “It’s only for a night, though, so I, um, hope you can put up with me until then.”

“No, Madame, I should be the one requesting that of you,” he insisted. “I should apologize for the uncomfortable position I have put you in.”

You decided not to say anything more, lest you fall into a never-ending loop of apologies...again.

Neither of you moved from your spots. His gaze was uncharacteristically unfocused, looking at anywhere but you. Though you didn’t have the ability to read emotions like him, you knew exactly what he was thinking then. It was as though you were looking into a mirror.

How did things turn out this way?

Let us return to the beginning of the day...

While you didn’t expect fanfare or anything when you returned home, you didn’t expect the house to be completely empty.

Your father being away wasn’t a surprise. His favorite pastime was wandering the countryside and climbing the jagged mountains near the village with a zither or notebook under his arm. You just hoped he didn’t stumble into a hilichurl camp or something like last time. 

As for your mother and your sister Justine’s absence, it was soon explained with a letter given to you by your taciturn housekeeper, Mrs. Bernard.

Dear Sister,

I’m so sorry that I couldn’t welcome you back home! Dominic (do you remember him? He’s the viscount’s son I danced with) has invited me to a tour around Fontaine on those new flying machines for my birthday! He says he knows someone at the Institute and that they can lend it to him for the day. Mother is chaperoning us. 

Oh, by the way, I’ve decided not to have the usual garden party this year. We’re going to hold an evening ball at the assembly-hall! Since you so insist on us not celebrating or even mentioning your marriage in any way, this ball will serve as a stealth celebration for you as well (don’t worry, we didn’t tell anyone. But just to warn you, Mother isn’t happy about it). I know how you feel about balls, but I do hope you can enjoy yourself as well. It’s a shame that Monsieur Neuvillette can’t come, but I suppose it can’t be helped. Everyone in the village is invited, and they’re all really excited. It’s been so long since we’ve had a large party like this, after all. Dominic says that he’ll invite some of his friends too. Anne, unfortunately, can’t attend as she’s busy with her babies.

I’ll be back around late afternoon, and I expect to hear all about Monsieur Neuvillette from you (I still can’t believe he’s part of our family now!!!!)

Love, Justine

“A flying tour...and a ball?” you said incredulously as you finished reading the letter. “I don’t think I had that much energy when I was her age.”

Still, you were happy that she was having a grand birthday celebration. Even if you had mixed feelings about a ball. Well, I suppose it’s fine if it’s just a village ball, you told yourself. If worst comes to worst, I can volunteer to play the role of musician all night. 

Indeed, you shouldn’t let your personal feelings cloud such a happy event. Even you enjoyed listening to the music, watching others dance, and eating the refreshments. Though, it was a shame that Anne, your best friend, couldn’t be there, as you hadn’t seen each other in ages. 

Neuvillette’s dodged a bullet by having to be in court today, you wryly mused to yourself. He frequently received invitations to balls and dinners, but almost always declined them. 

“The guest list is here, Madame Neuvillette,” Mrs. Bernard said, handing you a list of names. As your sister had written, all the families in the village were invited, and almost all of them accepted. The unfamiliar names, you assumed, were Dominic’s friends. 

“That’s a lot of guests. Did Mother hire any help for you?” you inquired as you followed Mrs. Bernard into the kitchen. Your family only had one housekeeper, but sometimes temporary help was hired from the village when it was needed. “Oh, and you don’t have to call me Madame Neuvillette, you know.”

“I am merely calling you by your proper title, Madame,” Mrs. Bernard said, unsmiling. You could count the number of times you saw her show emotion on one hand. “And no, several of your mother’s friends have offered to help prepare the refreshments. I am only baking the birthday cake and Conch Madeleines.”

“How far have you gotten with the cake?” you asked, rolling your sleeves up and putting on an apron. You usually helped with the measurements and the mixing, as Mrs. Bernard’s eyesight had worsened slightly over the years. 

The housekeeper stopped and gave you a look. “What?” you frowned.

“The wife of the Chief Justice has no place in a kitchen, especially after a long trip. I would advise you to rest in your room until the night’s entertainments.”

“Oh, come on, Mrs. Bernard, I’m not too good for kitchen work now just because I’m married to someone important. And you know how things are with our family. We need all the help we can get.” 

It wasn’t uncommon for members of the rural nobility to do work that their urban compatriots wouldn’t even deign to do, particularly if they lived on a meager income like yours did. You had grown up accustomed to mending your own clothes and helping with meal preparation.

“It is because I know our circumstances that I cannot approve of you helping me,” Mrs. Bernard replied curtly. Suddenly, her expression turned stormy. “Are you running into any issues with the staff at Monsieur Neuvillette’s household?”

“No, no, not at all,” you said, waving your hands in denial. Mrs. Bernard had been working for your family since your grandfather’s time, when there was still wealth and a fully staffed household, so she remembered a time when young ladies of the family didn’t need to lift a finger for anything except to ring the bell to summon a servant. “I’ve never run into any trouble there. Everything’s being done for me.”

It was the truth. In the beginning, you had tried to help out with the cooking and cleaning, but was firmly turned down every time. “You are here as Monsieur Neuvillette’s wife, not a tenant,” Marie had said. “He would be greatly aggrieved to hear that you feel obliged to do chores in his household.” Personally, you didn’t really understand the problem. You weren’t actually his wife and it wasn’t an obligation to help out in the house that you lived in. To go even further, you thought he ought to hire more staff if he were to live in a house of that size, even if he didn’t dwell there all that often. 

Come to think of it, there wasn’t much difference between the two households, particularly in the number of staff. But you decided that it was wiser to keep that to yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that. You must remember that you are of an old, noble bloodline and entitled to all the dignity and respect that entails,” Mrs. Bernard said, fixing you with a steely look. “Do not shrink yourself, even if your husband is the Iudex.”

“I know, I know,” you said, biting back your comments about all the good that a noble bloodline had done you. You knew Mrs. Bernard meant well, though a part of you shuddered at how she would react if she knew the truth behind your marriage. “I’ll be in my room, then.”

Mrs. Bernard nodded and turned back to the kitchen counter, which was fully taken up by mixing bowls and baking ingredients. You studied her stooped back and gray hair tied neatly in a bun. Had she gained more white hair since the last time you saw her?

You went upstairs with those uneasy thoughts in your mind. Mrs. Bernard had stayed loyal to your family even as family heirlooms and parts of the estate were sold to pay off debts, and servants quit in succession. In a wealthier family, she would probably be retired by now and settled comfortably in a cottage, receiving an annual income. 

If I were to truly comport myself with the dignity of a noble, then I would be giving money to my family to hire more servants, you thought as you gazed at a faded patch of wallpaper. An oil painting had once hung there, though you had no idea what the subject was or where it was now. The wall there had been bare ever since you could remember. At least one or two people to help in the kitchen and with the laundry, particularly now that Justine is out in society. Ah, come to think of it, she also needs a lady’s maid. And a footman... And... 

You did have money from Neuvillette, but it wasn’t enough to pay the yearly wages of a few servants.  You would have to ask Neuvillette for more. 

Wasn’t this the point of marrying rich? To help one’s family? If only this were a normal marriage, if only you weren’t married to the one person in Fontaine who you didn’t want to ask anything more of...

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away like cobwebs. You had gotten into this marriage of your own accord and knew exactly what it was. It was pointless to have regrets about it now. 

Pushing open your bedroom door with more force than you intended, you breathed in the sweet-smelling air of your room. It was kept dusted and polished even after you moved out. Even the plants on your windowsill were watered. Seeing your familiar wooden writing desk and floral bedspread filled your heart with overpowering gladness, as though you were a weary traveler who had finally come home. 

Your bedroom was about half the size of Neuvillette’s guest room and didn’t have a window seat or its own bathroom, but it had always served as your sanctuary. If a room could be the embodiment of one’s soul, then this one would be yours. 

You went over to the window. The morning glory vines hanging from the eaves hadn’t been trimmed, so the visibility wasn’t good, but you always liked the way the vines framed the window. When you were younger, you pretended that it was the overgrown window in a crumbling castle. The house was practically covered in ivy and morning glory vines. It lent a wild and rustic appearance that you found charming, but your mother always complained about the “overgrown weeds.” 

I think Neuvillette’s house would also look lovely with a bit of greenery on the outside. Not excessively, of course, But a window box of flowers never hurt anyone, or perhaps a wisteria tree near the front door...

You turned to the tall bookcase that housed your carefully cultivated collection of books. Living in a small town far from the city meant that your means of buying new books was limited, but you made do. Your eyes drifted to the leather-bound spines occupying the middle shelf. Those were the albums and journals of your late teacher which she had bequeathed to you. She had more books, but they were donated to the school and local library. While you had brought your favorites with you to the city, you didn’t bring any of these with you out of fear of losing them. And because it still hurt too much to look at them.

But now... You ran a finger across their smooth, cracked spines. You hadn’t visited your teacher’s grave in a long time. You should find time to do it today. There are a lot of things I want to tell her about. 

Before that, you decided to take a little nap. The trip here had been rather taxing. You changed into a shift and closed the curtains on the blue sky beyond. It won’t be blue for long though. I hope it doesn’t rain during Justine’s tour.

The thought of rain reminded you of Neuvillette. He was probably still in the middle of a trial, as it hadn’t rained yet. You felt a little guilty, knowing that you promised to attend one of his trials. I’ll go to the next one for sure, you told yourself. I hope he doesn’t stand in the rain for too long. You had grown accustomed to the sight of him standing in the garden as rain fell upon him and readied towels for him whenever he came back indoors. He never talked about it, but you gathered that standing in the rain was soothing for him somehow. 

You climbed into bed and slipped under the covers, then stared up at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming easily. 

Birdsong sounded outside the window. Faint shadows played on the wall opposite your bed. You could hear Mrs. Bernard moving around in the kitchen downstairs. Everything was so familiar and unchanged that you could almost fool yourself into believing that you had never left your village at all. The woman who had married the Iudex, petted a vishap’s snout, got attacked by a drunk at night (O Archons, how were you going to bring that up to your parents?), and spoke to the Hydro Archon, seemed to be someone else entirely. 

I feel like everything that happened in the past few months was a dream, and now I’m back to reality...

You could even sense the difference between your two lives in the bedding. The sheets in my room in the city are silkier and smell like detergent, while these sheets are more worn and stiffer, and smell like wildflowers...

You blinked at the intrusive thought. It would not do to compare. Or to grow accustomed to this, because it would all be over in the blink of an eye. The life that awaited you would be difficult, so it was better to prepare for it beforehand.

You tried to think about things that were more relevant to your future, like how you would advertise yourself or do some networking (perhaps you could ask Neuvillette to do some inquiring for you), but for some reason, your thoughts kept straying to other things. Like saving two slices of cake for Neuvillette and Marie. Marie would love the cake, and even though Neuvillette rarely ate sweets, you were sure he would enjoy it as well. It should be moist enough for him. The only question was, how were you going to keep the cakes fresh on the way home tomorrow? That reminds me, didn’t Neuvillette promise to take me to a restaurant? I hope he hasn’t forgotten about it. Well, he’s so busy these days that I wouldn’t be surprised if he had. Still, I was really looking forward to it...

A little voice in your head asked you if you were perhaps thinking about Neuvillette a little too much, but it was soon pulled under by a wave of drowsiness. 

“I hope you’re not going to hide away in the corner with the piano all night.”

You glanced up from the sheet music for a high-spirited country dance as Justine strode into the parlor. Her hair was up in curlers, and she was wearing her bathrobe and a facial mask. 

“Who else is going to play the music for all the dancing you and your friends are going to do? There’s no one as skilled on the piano as me in town, and no one else willing to take on the role of the musician all night.” 

You weren’t bragging. You had plenty of practice playing reels and jigs for Justine and her friends, who lived for dancing. Though, you had been a little rusty as of late, which was why you were warming up right now.

“Mr. Guillaume will be playing the violin, and Mrs. Allen has agreed to lend her harp. And Mother can take your place on the piano. You have to take a break at some point,” Justine leaned against the piano. “Just do one or two dances, please?”

“Oh, all right.” You supposed you could dance a cotillion or a longways set.

“You can practice with me, if you want. ...I doubt Monsieur Neuvillette danced much with you.”

“How do you know that?”

“It would have made the headlines of all the newspapers if he attended a ball with an unknown woman on his arm,” Justine said, as if it was obvious. Then, her face brightened. “Unless those secret evening balls the tabloids talk about are true...?”

“I wouldn’t know about that.” Though the thought of Neuvillette sneaking off at night to go dancing was rather amusing.

“Why wouldn’t you know? You’re his wife!”

“Well...just because two people are married, it doesn’t mean they have to know everything about each other,” you said. It occurred to you then that this was the perfect opportunity to “foreshadow” your eventual divorce. “To be honest, we don’t see each other all that often. His job keeps him very busy, you know, and he comes home very late. We live separate lives, and neither of us has much interest in each other. It’s not exactly the fairytale marriage you’re hoping for, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I know that,” Justine waved her hand. “There’s some kind of circumstance behind it, right?” Your expression must have been comical because she let out a snort of laughter. “Come on, my serious and level-headed sister suddenly getting married to the Iudex in a secret wedding within a week? You have to be an idiot not to see something’s up. I think Mother suspects it as well, but she’s choosing to ignore it.”

“I see...” Now you felt foolish. “Um...you must want to know--”

“I won’t pry. As long as he’s good to you and supports you in every way, then it doesn’t matter,” Justine peered at you closely. You were surprised. She had always been a romantic and, like your mother, devoured romance novels. “He is good to you, right? He’s not cold or neglectful? Everyone says he doesn’t like humans and is only kind to the Melusines. If he's cruel to you, then--”

“No!” you said, a little too quickly. Justine raised her eyebrow. You cleared your throat. “I mean, he’s been nothing but gentlemanly and considerate. He’s very kind and gentle--nothing at all like how he presents in court. I don’t think he hates humans at all. It’s just that he...keeps a distance from most people due to the nature of his work.”

You thought back to all the conversations you had with Neuvillette, and what you had observed of him. He simply didn’t give off the air of someone who hated humans. Would someone like that sit in the seat of the Chief Justice for centuries? 

But you couldn’t say he wholeheartedly loved them either. There was a deliberate distance there, but the reason for it was unknown to you.

“Mm-hmm,” Justine made a sound. She was grinning. You then realized that you had fallen into deep thought. “So, tell me more about my brother-in-law.”

“B-Brother-in-law?” you spluttered.

“Isn’t that what he is?”

“Well...yes, but...” It had only occurred to you then that Neuvillette was technically related to your family now. You had never gave it much thought before, so focused on other aspects of the marriage. You cleared your throat again. “What do you want to know? Just so you know, I don’t know his true identity or anything.”

“I don’t care about that! I want to know what living with him is like. He’s so mysterious, after all! Ooh, I don’t know how you can bear seeing that handsome face every single day!” Now she was sounding more like her old self.

You had a feeling that she would keep pestering you if you didn’t throw her a bone. What’s the harm in telling her a few things, you thought. Plus, you did kind of wanted to talk to someone about him. 

“You get used to it after a few months,” you started, and Justine leaned forward in rapt attention.

“So...he’s an old man, basically?” Justine said after you finished talking. You were currently in the kitchen, watching Mrs. Bernard icing the cake. The three-tiered butterscotch cake was decorated with pink and blue roses (“Didn’t I tell you? It’s to celebrate your wedding!” Justine answered when you asked about the blue roses) and looked every bit as delicious as something you’d see in the window displays of the fancy cake shops in the Court. 

“What...? How did you get to that conclusion?” you whirled around to her. Mrs. Bernard let out a quiet snort.

“According to you, he enjoys long, solitary walks by the water, has a preference for moist foods, and loves talking to his daughters and asking about their day. That sounds just like Old Man Julien,” Justine replied matter-of-factly. Old Man Julien was an elderly neighbor of yours who had no teeth. And he did enjoy long walks and chewable foods. 

“...No, it doesn’t,” you said, even as you inwardly thought that you might have inadvertently ruined Neuvillette’s image. Although, he is old...and a man...so she’s technically correct...wait, why am I thinking about this!? “So what? Is that a crime? Nothing wrong with having distinctive tastes, is there?”

“Never said there was,” Justine was still grinning. You turned away from her with a huff, and she hopped around to face you. “And Sister, you’re a terrible liar!”

“What do you mean?”

“You are interested in Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve never seen you talk so much about someone who isn’t some musty old historical figure!” Justine clapped her hands together.

“And smiling at that,” Mrs. Bernard added. You didn’t recall smiling. 

“That’s because he’s an interesting person. Like you said, he’s mysterious. No one knows what he is or where he came from. And he’s hundreds of years old, and...” Realizing that you sounded far too defensive, you clamped your lips shut. 

“Oh, Sister, you should just be honest with yourself,” Justine shook her head.

“I do not know what you are talking about. I did not lie about a single thing. And you should watch how you speak about your brother-in-law.”

“I know, I know... Ooh, I have an idea. Let me do your makeup! And then I’ll take pictures and send them to my brother-in-law, and then he’ll be so awestruck by your beauty that he’ll be eager to take you to balls every night!”

“Please don’t do that. It’s a secret marriage, remember?” you reminded her as she dragged you upstairs.

But she wasn’t listening to you as she chattered to herself. “...And then I’ll tie blue ribbons into your hair, to match those blue things in his hair.”

“Actually, those are horns,” you couldn’t help but correct her.

“They are!? ...I bet he let you touch them, didn’t he?” 

You suppressed a groan. You were beginning to regret telling her anything at all.

I hope Neuvillette’s having a more relaxing time than me, you thought.

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[junixscribble]

Sweet Dreams

ALRIGHT this is another one to blame the server for. Some context - this is a bit of a combo of AUs I've seen with my own hcs thrown in. Apologies for the exposition (again).

Title: Sweet Dreams

WC: 1495w

Summary: Life is good in Zaun. Great, even. A normal night turns into something a little sillier.

-----------

It had been over a year since Jayce and Viktor were consumed by the Arcane. In their world life went on, Jayce was grieved, and Viktor was forgotten - those that did remember him could only hold onto the memory of what he became. Piltover grew, completely unbeknownst of a universe just a little to the left, where two men thrived.

The two inventors had set up a repair shop they shared, working out of Zaun. Between them they had developed a filtration system to clean the air that went completely unknown by Piltover, and the Zaunites were happy to keep it that way. Neither were untouched by their experience though. Jayce used a brace more often than not to help with his leg that never healed, and the white fingerprints on his forehead had faded greatly but would never leave. 

The Arcane did not want to let go of Viktor that easily, but it seemed to have been decently kind with it. When they landed in a field on the outskirts of the city, Viktor was trapped switching between two forms: his Herald, as they called it, and his human body. It fucking hurt, but settled down and eventually he was able to switch between forms at will. The markings that once covered him like Jayce also faded into pale lavender streaks on his skin, and his lungs no longer gave him grief. He still dealt with pain in his leg, but that was par for the course at this point. 

(He also kept his hair long, because he knew Jayce liked it)

(Jayce also kept his beard, because he knew Viktor liked it)

The day had been good - people had come to them with problems ranging from malfunctioning prosthetics to broken toys, all of which had been fixable within an hour. Jayce always sent the toy repairs to Viktor as he was a little better with the fiddly equipment and children seemed to flock to the man. Plus it was very funny watching Viktor figure out what to do with small children. 

Viktor wandered into the bedroom in sleep pants with some sweetmilk while Jayce laid in bed and stared directly at the ceiling, eyes open and brow furrowed.  

“Jayce, what are you thinking about?” Viktor asked, recognising the look.

“Hmm? Oh. Prosthetic pneumatics. Was I doing the thing where I look like a concerned corpse?” Jayce frowned and Viktor laughed, sitting next to him. 

“You were. And you need to stop thinking about work in your downtime.” 

“Look who’s talking.” 

Viktor tipped his head in agreement. “A fair point. Still, I can’t use you as a pillow if you have gone rigor mortis on me.” 

Jayce sputtered a protest at the comparison but raised an arm so Viktor could settle in beside him, which he did. The two read in the quiet together, Jayce gently carding his fingers through Viktor’s hair until a low rumbling noise came from his chest. That had been another discovery made after a few months of switching forms - there were hangovers between each one. The Herald could make a mechanical rumbling noise similar to a purr when content and that carried over to Viktor as well, although with a more organic and quiet sound. Jayce loved that he could tell when his partner was happy and teased him for the cat-like tendency at any opportunity. Not this time though, as he was starting to drift off and couldn’t really be bothered starting a quip-war. 

It only took another ten minutes for both of them to put down their books and curl up to drift off together. 

…

There was something on his side, and it felt weird. No, there was something on his side, and it tickled. Jayce’s brain woke up in increments at an unholy hour, half aware of something going on on his right side. The feeling moved up higher and he gasped, almost jerking as it brushed under his armpit. He looked to the side to find Viktor, seemingly fast asleep with his hands on Jayce’s torso. They weren’t doing much, just wandering and teasing, but it was enough that Jayce was trying to hold back giggles. He tried gently removing his hands but they came back stronger and more intently, poking into his ribs now. 

“Vik, cut it out!” Jayce asked quietly, but it did nothing. He came to the slow realisation that his partner was indeed completely asleep, and obviously having a pretty stupid dream. Viktor still had trouble sleeping and Jayce was not going to be the one to interrupt a good night's rest so he steeled himself to endure the touches, trying to move as little as possible. 

This proved to be a challenge. Being asleep, Viktor’s onslaught wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when he was awake but the ghosting of fingers on his sides and belly had him trying desperately not to squirm away and laugh. When both Viktor’s hands started spidering into his armpits it took every bit of self control not to slam his arms down. He couldn’t help but let out a high pitched squeal, after which he immediately checked to make sure Viktor was still asleep. 

Jayce endured this feathery, tickly torture without jostling too much for an impressive amount of time. He was strangely proud of himself for holding out against Viktor’s fingers squeezing his stomach at all. One of Viktor’s hands suddenly moved up the back of his sides with precision too exact to belong to a sleeping person, and the fact finally clicked in Jayce’s brain. 

“Viktor Talis. Are you awake?” He asked, eyes on Viktor’s face. There was almost no indication he had heard him. Almost. Jayce caught the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and he knew he’d been had. 

“Oh my gods, you little shit you’re going to pay for that!” Jayce threatened, jumping up and pinning Viktor’s arms to the bed. Viktor was wide awake now and grinning at him. He opened his mouth and Jayce shook his head. 

“Nope, the only way you’re getting a word in is if you’re laughing.” 

With that Jayce let go of Viktor’s arms, pulled back the covers, and squished his hands on either side of Viktor’s stomach. Viktor had half a second to prepare himself before Jayce started munching on his tummy, blowing raspberries all over the place and very ticklishly gnawing on his skin. His first reaction was to nearly shriek before laughing harder than he ever had at Jayce’s nibbling all over. Jayce’s hands got to work too, making sure Viktor’s belly was in the tickle target zone while squeezing and kneading into his sides and lower ribs. 

“JAHAYCE! Noho fair!” 

“Mmm, tasty!” Jayce teased, nuzzling his beard into Viktor’s stomach and making om nom noises after he spoke. He knew this tickled like absolute hell, and by Viktor’s kicking and cackling he could tell it was working. Pressing kisses and gently using his teeth to scrape across the sensitive skin was driving Viktor wild in new and exciting ways, so Jayce decided on a new game - trace over Viktor’s Arcane markings with his lips and tongue. This made Viktor’s pleading turn into gibberish, eliciting a screech when Jayce’s tongue dipped into his navel. 

“Nohohohononoo! Thahat’s ahawful!” 

“Oh, would you like to tell me where it tickles the most? We could make an experiment out of it!”

“Hehey, that’s my lihiHIHINE AHAHA!” Viktor tried to cut back but was interrupted by Jayce blowing the biggest raspberry yet right over his navel. It was then that the low rumbling noise started in Viktor’s chest, interspersing with the laughing. Jayce tilted his head to the side in amusement, replacing his mouth with his hands so he could speak.

“Aw, you’re purring!” Jayce said with a smile, hands scribbling over Viktor’s stomach at the speed of light. “You like this!”

Viktor squirmed violently, voice scratching from the purring he couldn’t control. “Jahayce plehease, ihit tickles so bahadly!” 

“Alright, alright. Just one more.” 

Jayce blew a last raspberry into Viktor’s stomach, using his scratchy beard to get a final yell from his partner before finally relenting. Viktor laid there on the bed, heaving for breath through continuous purring. 

“I am covered in your slobber. Gross.” he commented, unable to conjure much more. Jayce snickered and laid down beside him. 

“You deserved it.” 

Viktor frowned, before he turned to Jayce with an evil grin. “Actually, I don’t think the punishment fits the crime at all.”

Jayce watched as Vitkor’s eyes glowed white with Arcane energy and his body glitched in place, transforming into the incarnation of the divine in living form. Well, that’s how Jayce saw it. 

Viktor pinned Jayce down the same way Jayce had done to him, still purring. “You have just started a war, Jayce. I hope you’re prepared for the outcome.” 

The hexclaw spun and contracted menacingly over Viktor’s shoulder, and Jayce gulped. This was gonna tickle so bad. 

[11queensupreme11]

Yes, I am making a reaction fic....... eventually lol

i know it says i started this back in 2023, but all i really did was make a cover. i didn't start making any chapters until a few months ago hehe

BUT ANYWAYS YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT! i am making a reaction/reading the books/watching the movies fic for arsenic blues!!!! in this case, it will be ror reacting to pjo

for anyone interested to learn more, go under the cut!

(this started off as me just giving you some info about cerulean cyanide, but then i ended up ranting about how much i loved the pjo tv show lol, soooo if you haven't watched it, don't go down)

first off, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME MAKING A REACTION FIC! i've read a lot of them, but i have no experience in actually making one. i'm kinda nervous ngl 😅

secondly, i've already started... somewhat. i've copied all chapters of the lightning thief into a google doc and made necessary edits, but i haven't written any reactions... YET. i want to include the ror gods AND humans as members of the audience, and since i haven't written about the ror humans as thoroughly yet, i won't be writing the reactions until i get to act 2 of arsenic blues, since that's when the ror humans are introduced. this is important for me because i don't have their characterizations down yet, and won't until i actually start writing about them and their dynamics with percy. same goes with cú chulainn, he's a literal love interest, but won't get introduced until act 2!

thirdly, because of what i said up there ^ cerulean cyanide won't be published until act 2 is finished to avoid spoiling what happens during ragnarok and the god's apocalypse.

fourthly, IT WILL BE INTERMIXED WITH THE TV SHOW!!! i fucking LOVED the show and (most of) the changes that were made, so i'm totally going to add them into percy's past that the ror characters will be reacting to.

so what elements of the show should you expect to see? glad you asked!

POSEIDON 💙

poseidon in the books is great, but i loooooove the new stuff they put in the tv show. in the books, we're mostly told that poseidon loves percy and there are times where it's shown, but it's kinda hard to pick up since the books are written in PERCY'S POV, and since poseidon is literally restricted from interacting with him, it's hard to notice how much he actually loves his son when he's not even allowed to be AROUND the dude who's perspective takes up the whole series.

but in the tv show, it's not just percy's perspective that's explored! that little moment poseidon had with sally told us SOOOO MUCH about how he actually felt for the both of them. and when he and percy finally met??? THE ANGST AND LONGING THEY BOTH SHOWED UHDFSIGVSVGD I LOVED IT SO MUCH

AND THE FACT THAT HE NOT ONLY SAVED PERCY FROM ZEUS BUT ALSO SURRENDERED??? HE GAVE UP HIS PRIDE AND PRIDE IS SUCH A HUGE AND IMPORTANT THING FOR GODS BUT HE GAVE IT UP WITH NO HESITATION AHHHHHHH 😭

so yes, expect to see a lot of the poseidon scenes from the tv show

HERMES BEING AT THE LOTUS CASINO

i actually really like the fact that hermes was shown in here instead of the next season. some people were confused as to what the point was for having him in the casino and why he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer, but i found this post on tumblr that explains why he could've been there:

in the last olympian, we (and percy) find out that hermes knew all along what luke's fate would be; that he would rebel against the olympians, bring forth kronos, become his host, etc. he knew ALL OF THAT. but he was never allowed to tell him (ancient laws), so he tried to CHANGE luke's fate in order to save him even though he knew it was pointless.

we get a bit of that in the tv show. hermes was there because he wanted to change luke's fate. he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer so they would pass the deadline. war would come, and luke would get away with his thievery and nobody would know it was him because they're all too busy trying to kill each other. but ofc, like always, it didn't work because you can never change fate.

i love how the show showed us that hermes was trying to change his fate in the first season whereas in the books, it only started in the second book where he was introduced for the first time.

THE GODS' CRUELTY AND THEIR LOVE

the gods' cruelty and apathy was much more obvious in the show's first season compared to the first book. in the first book, most of the gods shown were jerks at best but the tv show really showed us how horrible of a family they are (most of them at least) to each other and their kids

like what show!ares said, his family loves to stab each other in the back, they love to hurt each other to get a higher leg up; they're not really a family. the audience and percy becomes VERY aware of that unlike in the books where it's more sugar-coated at the start.

we're shown very early on that they're not good people, but at the same time, we're shown that some of them DO care.

hephaestus was abused and mistreated by his family, but he refuses to be like them which is why he released percy from his trap; because he realizes that he and annabeth are good kids (ending the cycle). hermes loves his son and desperately wants to change his fate despite being told over and over again that its pointless. poseidon loves percy and wishes to be a proper family with him and sally, but isn't allowed to.

there are some good gods out there, which is why percy decided to stand by them instead of taking luke's offer to bring it all down. he's been shown that some gods ARE good. unlike in the first book where you don't really meet any decent gods, so book!percy honestly didn't have much of a reason to defend them, yet he did anyway when luke left camp. the show gave him (and us) a better reason to actually defend them

in the show, he's exposed to the god's cruelty, but he sees that it's not as black and white as he once thought "oh all the gods are bad and none of them care for their kids >:(", he sees the good in some of them and it's enough to make him want to save them instead of letting them crash and burn (like luke, who's blinded by his anger and hatred *cough cough* fatal flaw!!!! *cough cough*).

LUKE AND PERCY'S RELATIONSHIP

SHOW!LUKE WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN BOOK!LUKE IMO.

book!luke was trying to kill percy very early on and was pretty much pretending to be his friend the whole time. yes his intentions and character get fleshed out as the books go on, but his relationship with percy... didn't offer much.

then there's show!luke who genuinely liked him and wanted to recruit him rather than kill him (that's why there's no scorpion scene). his betrayal was more personal and painful for percy. the fact that annabeth was there to watch it all happen was even better (not for her though LOL).

(and dont even get me started on how show!luke didn't hate grover like in the books. the genuine fear in his eyes when he found out that percy gave the shoes to him and the way his eyes got all misty??? he fully blames thalia's "death" on him and him only THE ANGUISH WAS SO 😭😭😭)

AND I THINK THAT MIGHT BE ALL?

so yes, these are some of the changes you should expect to see!

i wanna really contrast how different things are between the ror and pjo verse. ror gods are very close and tight-knit whereas the pjo gods are... well, "a mess" as percy so eloquently put it.

ror gods aren't forced under the tyrannical rule of zeus, their zeus is chill and just wants to have fun. they have no restrictions to follow and their divine laws aren't as oppressive

whereas pjo gods are under the tyrant rule of zeus and can't even interact with their kids.

ror gods are independent while pjo gods have to rely on the preservation of western civilization to stay alive and use demigods to break rules, etc etc.

pjo gods (some, at least) are kinder and have no issues falling in love with humans and loving their demigod children while ror gods are cruel assholes who commit genocide against humanity despite being the ones to create them

and etc etc.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE AS HYPED UP AS I AM!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 can't wait to start writing reactions for the first time ever 🫨

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so remember when I wrote a small fic about trans Phantom using tape to bind for the first time and it went like shit?

Anyway, I wrote a tape redemption arc and it's under the cut! It's just around 600 words-ish.

“Come in!”

Dew calls out after hearing a shy knock on his door. He doesn't need to look up to know who's on the other side, the faint scent of lavender and woodsmoke betrays Phantom before he even walks through the door. The quintessence ghoul walks in sheepishly and closes the door behind him, something nervous about the way he carries himself that immediately catches Dew's attention.

“What is it?” the fire ghoul asks with a cocked eyebrow as he sets down his book (something about mermaids that Rain suggested to him) and sits up in bed. Phantom holds up a roll of kinesiology tape and a pair of scissors, his tail wrapped around his leg in worried anticipation. He doesn't even need to say a word before Dew's on his feet, taking the roll from him and leading him deeper into the room. It's been months since Phantom's first attempt at binding with tape and it didn't exactly go well. He knows the younger ghoul still has some scars on his back from the experience. Dew leads him near his desk so he can work while standing up. He takes off the other's shirt.

“You took a shower?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn't put on any kind of body butter?”

“No.”

“Good.”

As he starts cutting strips of the tape, Dew notices how the quintessence ghoul opted for black, this time. He can't help but think that, at least, it won't stick out like a sore thumb, this time. Phantom seems to read his mind and lets out a dry chuckle.

“It fits my colour scheme better.”

“It does. You sure you wanna do this? We don't have to.”

“I know… But I figured I'd go back to it sooner or later. And if I don't do this now, I feel like I'm gonna chicken out forever.”

“Fair enough. Just don't go ripping it out raw again, okay?”

Phantom laughs nervously at that.

“Been there, done that. Never again.”

“Good boy.”

The quintessence ghoul melts a little at the praise and Dew gets to work. He instructs the other to lift his arms so he can lay the first pieces of tape.

Phantom keeps his arms up while the fire ghoul works on him. He finds a lot of comfort in his warm fingers and the ease with which Dew applies the strips. He wishes now more than ever that he'd gone to him the first time, instead of experimenting all by himself in his cold bathroom. At least, he'd learned what not to do. His eyes find Dew's mirror and he watches him work, trying to commit the techniques to memory, although he could get used to the pampering.

“How'd you figure out how to do it right?”

“Lotsa practice.”

The fire ghoul finishes his work and pats Phantom's sides a couple times.

“Lots of asking around, too.”

To which the younger ghoul rolls his eyes.

“I get it, I should come to you more…”

“It doesn't have to be me, baby bat, I just don't want you to mess up your body.”

They stay silent for a moment while the quintessence ghoul puts his shirt back on. He stretches his arms out, relishing in how comfortable the tape is this time around. He even finds himself smiling at his own reflection.

“You don't have to take care of me so much… I'm not complaining at all, I appreciate it more than I can tell you, I just… Thank you.”

“Don't mention it, Ant. I um… I remember what it was like to be in your place. And I wish I had someone back then to show me a thing or two, to tell me it was gonna be okay.”

Phantom doesn't quite know how to react to Dew's words. As long as he'd know him, the fire ghoul hasn't talked much about his own experience, only ever spoken with his actions. The moment is short lived, however, when Dew turns back to him and claps his hands together.

“Alright, loser, down for a game of Mario Kart?”

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

I’ve been a sad bitch and the almost nothings that I managed to write were reflecting it terribly. I want to be a happy bitch again and finish a quirky romcom that does not evolve to sad-town-fest. Pray for me and my constancy, godspeed to us all. This is the farthest I’ve ever came writing solos-turned-multichapter. Amazing and wtf.

Warning: mentions of anxiety and self-harm and infuriating blonds.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 8: 500 days of Azriel - part 1

Five hundred days.

The countdown of his life turning upside down took 500 days

And it was all because of her.

DAY 1

Truth be told Azriel Marino didn't mean to pay her any attention.

The thing is life can be unpredictable, even for a big planner like him, especially when this planner happens to be in constant contact with the most chaotic variant he had ever came across. Well, maybe it was a bit dramatic of him to define a person like that, but Elain Archeron was no regular person, so Azriel couldn’t help but compare her to a surprise variable disrupting the balance of his perfect life equation.

“Fuck!” The strangled curse resonated along with the emergency door hitting the wall. Agitated, Azriel shrugged his suit jacket, making his way to the building's stairwell.

The phone in his hand was ticking time bomb. He held it like a vice, like a nasty habit he couldn't seem to get rid of. Her photo on the screen shined like a beacon, a conductor to his own personal hell. Damn it. He should have erased her contact info by now, should have erase all possible traces of her.

Easier said than done.

Azriel stared at the photo she sent as if he was staring at Morrigan herself, stared at the empty bottle of wine by her side, her tear-stained cheeks and red stained lips doing nothing to distract him from the bunch of pills in her hand. Under the ominous picture laid four bubbles that made his stomach churn.

sometimes I want 2 sleep and never wake up Sorry 4 texting I love u bye Az

It had been an hour since he received the picture documenting Morrigan's latest threat of attempting suicide.

Then nothing.

No further picture, no more threatening messages, nothing. Complete silence from the woman who had been calling and texting nonstop all week after a photo like that was a bad sign. With a shaky hand, Azriel loosened his tie and scratched his throat, willing the air in and out.

I love u

The empty text float in his mind.

It's a lie, he reminded himself. It's always a lie.

There was no coming back from the break up this time. Not for him. Whatever she chose to do or not do was out of his hands now. He had played this part one too many times to know nothing good would come from bending to her.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. He hated this feeling, the cruel fait of being responsible for Mor's life, the constant balance of her existent being put in the palm of his hands.

It’s fake, he mentalized. It’s fake like all the other ones.

But what if it wasn’t?

Shaking, he dialed her number.

Azriel didn't know if it was worry or deep resented anger that gave his hand tremors. Deep down he knew what she was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo with Mor. Facetimes in the middle of the night, hysterical crying on his hallway, pictures of knifes and ropes over her bed, long goodbye emails that he should’ve not read, but couldn’t help doing so. So far, Mor had used a lot of cruel ways to razzle him into taking her back, and Azriel was so fucking done with this shit.

Still, having someone texting you the equivalent of a suicide note was frightening. Why hadn't she reached him again? What if she had gone through with it this time? What if she hurt herself? Azriel ran a hand through his hair.

The call didn't go through, panic slowly seeping through his bones.

Who was he kidding? Azriel would never be able to leave Morrigan. They have been together too long, been through too much. It was too late for him to try and leave her now, too late to break this sickening connection between them.

On the verge of crying, he dialed her number again.

He could be stronger this time, firmer, just a long time friend checking on another. He could do this. He would just check on her, make sure that she was safe and unharmed, and them he–  

“You drop that phone. Right! Now!”

The loud command caught him by surprise, Azriel turning back to the exit door. No one had come through, he was still alone on his floor.

“I cannot believe you’re calling this asshole again!” The same feminine voice reprehended.

He recognized her immediately, his ears well used to the high pitch that loved to start a fight with him, only it was a first seeing her using this tone with anyone else. Quietly, he approached the railing to get a better view from the floor below, watching his two employees fight like toddlers

“He called me all day! It’s rude to ignore.” Nuala screeched, pushing Elain’s head away.

“He’s buttering you up, your idiot,” Elain replied two second away from climbing her friend's back. “That’s how that piece of shit manipulates you!”

Jumping, she made failed attempt to grab the phone.

“He doesn’t manipulate me.” Nuala said in a defensive tone.

“Oh, please!”

“… Fine, maybe a little. But he loves me!”

“No he doesn’t. Give me the phone, Nu.”

“I will… I just need to call him real quick, it's the last time, I promise.”

Huffing, Elain placed both hands on her waist, glaring at her friend.

“You’re the one who asked me to guard you phone, remember?” She made a run for her friend, Nuala dodging her with easy. “I won’t let you get back with that walking trash!”

“I’m not trying to get back together.”

“Save the lies for someone who’ll believe you.”

“I’m serious. I just have check on him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He was so sad Elain, he almost drunk himself to death!”

“That man was cheating on you, he can jump of a cliff an I won’t care! Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

Azriel rolled his eyes watching them struggle like two toddlers battling for the best toy. The “fight” didn’t last long, not when Elain was willing to stick a wet finger in her friend’s ear to gain advantage. He didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted with how far she was willing to go, and he wasn't the only one.

“Oh my God, you’re disgusting!” Nuala complained, rubbing her ear raw.

“And you are welcome.” Elain replied, turning the phone off and sticking it inside her shirt.

With a sigh, Nuala sat on the stair, hiding her head between her knees, the photographer soon following her steps, wrapping an arm around her friend. The scene seemed too personal for him to be watching, yet Azriel could not walk way without listening to all of it, not when he and Nuala seemed to have so much in commom.

Trying to give them a bit of privacy he turned his back to the railing and sat down. In normal circunstance he would never he sat in an unwkown dirty floor, but his day had been long, and Azriel was tired. The kinds of tiredness that reachs the soul. He did his best not to touch anything that wasn't necessarie.

“He will change," he heard Nuala reasoning. “He promised.”

“He always does, and he never changes. No one change for others, you know that.”

“What if he meant it this time?”

“What if he doesn’t?" A bit of silenced filled the staircase. "Will you spend the rest of your life catering for him? Being unhappy just to stay beside him?” At that, Nuala lifted her head. “Honey, that man doesn’t love. If he really loved you, he would not be terrorizing you, he wouldn’t hurt you, and he wouldn’t pretend to be hurt just to get your attention. You don’t do this to people you love Nuala.”

Nuala groaned, the weight of the words washing over her.

“If he doesn’t love me, why won’t he let me go?"

I know the feeling, Azriel thought on the upper floor.

"He has to love me at least a little bit, right?”

“You know why he won’t leave you alone? Because now that you dumped his useless ass he realized how much you did for him, how much easier you turned his life. In his mind, he can treat you as badly as he wants and you will never leave, because you don’t love yourself enough to leave, but you love him enough to stay even if it makes you unhappy.”

The women stayed silent for a while, Azriel absorbing the words that weren’t meant for him but might as well had been. To love someone more than you love yourself was a dreadful curse to carry.

“I miss him.”

Azriel paused, pensive. Did he missed Mor? Inside him there was long, a long he couldn't quite comprehend or classify. He was so tired of being manipulated and dismissed, so tired of being taken for granted, tired of being alone, still, Azriel missed being in love, and Morrigan was the only woman he had ever loved. But did he miss Mor? Azriel wasn't so sure anymore.

“I know, darling." Elain soothing voice found him again. "You won’t miss him forever, I promise. Give it time Nuala, it sounds cliché but time heals all things, it will heal you too, you’ll see.”

Another moment of silence, then,

"I think to have to keep my phone for a little longer.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me call him.”

“I won’t.”

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m having a meltdown at work.”

“I know.” Elain laughed. “I’m so gonna make fun of you later. Come one, let’s get back. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that waste of oxygen, come." Her voice began to feel further. "By the way, Nu, you should try Crushland, is a wonderful problem-solver.”

“And stay hidden behind plants to thirst after Cass? No, thank you.”

“Ugh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t hiding, I was passing by.”

“Sure you were.”

A door opened and closed and then the girls were gone, leaving Azriel behind. His phone rang, Morrigan’s name in capital letters screaming at him to pick up. He starred at it until the screen shut down again.

Turning his device off completely, Azriel stood. He rearrenged his tie, using the linen handkerchief safely tucked in his brest pocket to clean the dirt from hist pants. His eyes followed the material, suddely remembering this particular piece had been a gift from Mor. Azriel took a deep breath, ehxaling slowly, Elain's words replaying on his ming. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that it. Usually, Azriel would be the first one to disagree with Elain. This time he hopped she was correct.

Reentering the halls of the building, Azriel discharged the handkerchief in the nearest bin, thinking back to the one piece of the conversation that he had not understood at all.

“What the fuck is crushland…” he muttered to himself.

DAY 185

There was a she he didn't want to think about.

And there was a she who would not leave his mind.

To Azriel Marino, Elain Archeron’s mind was a chaotic mess. Well, at least he supposed it was, since he was yet to see her having a linear line of thoughts or exhibit traits of an organized person. And he would know if she had, because Azriel had been paying a lot of attention to Elain since he accidently listen to her conversation.

Going against instinct was hard, but he tried his best to follow the stolen advices. Since that faitful day, Azriel reseted his phone without bothering to save any prior conversation, photo or information on it, switched numbers - both personal and professional - forced himself to develop a new distribution strategy to raise the number os sales, reached for a couple friends that he hadn't catch up with in years, and suspended Morrigan from the list of preaproved guests of his building.

The last action was proving to be a bit tricky since his brother lived on the same place in a different floor, Mor using the opportunit to pretend to visit Cassian and go bang straight on Azriel doors. To his credit he had been doind an excelent job of playing dead in these situation, but it was getting embarassing to pretend not being home when he was a grown asss adult. Should he move? Fuck.

The first days were rough, the suicide threat hunting his dreams. Azriel did his best not to fall, focusing in rebuilding his days without placing Mor at the center of his life, focusing his efforts in fully reviving the magazine instead. These days most of their revenue came from the digital market, but Azriel was determinate to ignite people's love for paper again. There was a certain finesse and class to the final result of a printed magazine that bright ipad screen couldn't compete with. The more he tried to revive this tradition, the less he found himself fixating about Mor.

From the confines of his office, he watched Elain's back as she worked editing some shots. Her advice was solid. Time was indeed a good healer, Azriel being the one that have never gave into it, not entirely. He wondered if she would be proud of how well he managed to follow her lead. Would she praise him? From his observations, Elain was the type to praise every trivial achievement her friends would share with her. Except for his. Not that he had ever shared anything with her. Elain and Azriel weren't friends.

He obsessed over the wrapper one last time, breathing in courage and marching to deliver it.

In his hands Azriel held a Remus 1.5x Full Frame Anamorphic 5 Lens Set all wrapped in pink. He had no inkling about professional lenses quality, but he had seen Elain daydreaming about this particular set once or twice, her computer screen stuck on the specs as she gushed to Nuala or Miguel about inumerous advantages only she seemed to follow. It is a working tool, he would say, to keep improving the magazine's quality.

Truth was the gift was a hidden thank you and a quiet peace offer.

Elain could be a mouthy thing with a questionable wardrobe and an inexplicable supply of energy for someone who disliked coffee, but over the last months Azriel learned that she was also insightful and very considerate, qualities he had failed to apreciate for they could never interact for long without fighting. During their weekly meeting Elain mostly kept to herself, scketing scenarios and playing with possible color gradientes as she dropped a terrible joke here and there, quickly associating which agencies would have the best catalog of models for the monthly issue, humming as she pinned the name to vision bord. When they were in the shooting set her other persona would come out, bossy and stern, not afraid to shout orders at anyone, not even him. Azriel was trying to learn not to interfere with her on set, still, he would razzle her sometimes, unable to stop himself from trying to be in control.

Once he stopped antagonizing her, Azriel realized their goal was the same: do a good job. That's why he suggested Cassian should hire Elain as their official photographer instead of keeping her as backcall freelancer. Elain was too good not to keep. And since she appeared to be a good friend to every one in this office, maybe, just maybe, he and Elain didn't have to be in each other's throat all the time. Maybe they could even be… well, not friends, he didn't know her personally enough for that, but they could be work colleagues. Good colleagues.

They had a couple traits in common, and Azriel was perfectly capable of using them to befriend her.

Or maybe he wasn't.

Azriel’s nose wrinkled on its on as he approached mess scatarred across the wood top that once upon a time, was a desk. Now old food wraps covered half of it, and so did empty cups (which were probably responsible for the stains on the wood); the other half was occupied by cut outs from magazines and multicolored folders, pictures of clothes, places and people that she would somehow turn into an idea.

A shiver ran down his spin, making him physicaly shake in place to get rid of it. His mind would never function properly in this kind of working space. Just thinking about putting his laptop on this desk made his skin crawl. Not surprisingly, her camera was the only item in a proper place, with no garbage nearby, safely secure in a bag and carefully placed on a lower shelf.

If there was one thing, Azriel knew about Elain was that she loved her camera.

And apparently, his brother.

Unaware of his presence, Elain hunched over her phone like a goblin, an old photograph of a shirtless Cassian posing by a waterfall occupying the entirety of her screen. If Elain was trying to be subtle about her crush, she was doing a terrible job of it. By now, he was sure everyone in this department knew she had a thing for his brother.

Well, she was a single woman and his brother was a single man... Still, Azriel didn't like the way her eyes would lite up around Cass, how easily they would slip into casualty and conversation, how she'd play with her hair and smile brightly at him, how her voice would be sweeter and higher than normal, or how they would share the same wave length for flirty jokes and heavily sexual innuendos. He hated those jokes. Hated that insufferable immodest bond that they seemed to share so effortlessly.

Why did they need to be laughing so much around each other? It was annoying and juvenile.

Sick of watching her ridiculous hobby, Azriel lowered himself till his lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear.

“Online stalking can also be considered a form of working harassment.”

Elain nearly jumped from her chair.

“Jesus Christ!” she squealed, holding her phone to her chest.

“Nope, just your boss. About to file an HR complain with you name on it.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t complain about me, I wasn’t stalking you.”

“So you admit you were stalking.”

“I wasn’t stalking, it was a Facebook memory!” She defended herself, cheeks reds as a tomato.

Azriel watched her. Elain wasn’t the shy blushy type.

In fact, in all those months working with her he hadn’t saw her face red unless she was very angry (usually with him). Elain blushing was kind of… cute. Her heated cheeks matching the soft cherry blossom shade of her lips. Azriel was yet to see Elain with heavy make up on, her daily pattern cosisting in sunscreen, a bit of foundation and lots of gloss. He could tell her lips were the area she liked to play with the most, testing different shades of red and pink that seemed to match her mood. Sometimes they seemed the color of rose buds, sometimes they were closer to cherry red, most times they were glossy and sparkling, and sometimes he stared at them more than he should, so engrossed in the way they moved he forgot to pay attention to what she was saying. Like now.

"–and Cass befriend me," she continued. "Now facebook is reminding me that I accidently liked his old picture, and my phone died, and I couldn’t undo it, and he saw! Which was sooo embarrassing I wanted to die. When I explained he just laughed on my face and liked a really ugly picture of me from high school in return, but I’m not stalking your brother.”

Azriel simple staring at her.

Mistaking his silence for doubt, she repeated herself. “I’m not!”

For some unknown reason, knowing she was blushing because of his brother unsettled him. Azriel knew Cassian well. A girl like Elain: pretty, young, and full of fire, was like a flame ready to attract his moth of a brother. Cassian was fast to be interested in girls like her, and even faster to grew bored of them.

"Don’t let my brother fool you, Archeron. He’ll break your heart.”

A slight frown took over her features.

"I can take care of myself, Marino."

"If you say so."

His mood soured.

Pulling a couple napkings from his pocket, Azriel pushed a few cups aside, cleaning a spot on the desk where he unceremoniously placed the gift upon, not bothering to explain what it was or what was it for, Elain's frown going from annoyed to confused as she watched him dissapair back into his office.

One minute latter her scream filled the entire floor, a scream followed by,

"Thank you, Marino! Thank you! I'll preserve it and use it wisely! Thank you!!!!"

Azriel bit a smile down, too perturbed by his own emotions to enjoy her reaction properly.

That day he realized something important about himself.

Something somewhat unsettling.

In his arduous quest to forget Morrigan, Azriel found himself thinking of a different woman entirely, a woman he had no business paying attention to, a woman infatuated with his brother. A woman who, unknown to himself, had began to drawn him to her crazy way of seeing the world, beguiling him to do something he had never done in his life.

Beguiling him act on a whim.

DAY 309

"When the clock strike midnight, I'll leave this old pinning Elain behind and make out with the first man that looks my way." Elain announced puffing her chest.

If someone asked him what possessed him to meddle in Elain's imaginary love life, he wouldn’t be able to tell. And if someone had told him her love life would turn into his love life, he would have laugh himself hoarse. But there he was, kissing her instead.

His fingers twisted in her hair and Azriel felt Elain growing lax against him, the frailest of whimpers escaping her throat as his tongue slid inside her mouth, the passionate slow kiss they shared at the strike of fireworks announcing midnight making his heart pound and his head throb.

He pulled away first, slight embarrassed by how rusted his tempo was, his breath frenetic and out of place as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Elain didin't seem to care, chasing him closer as his head moves away. Azriel kept her at bay, the fist tightly wound in her hair holding her back. To calm himself he kissed her jawline; once, twice, thrice, his breath still erratic, agitated. For fucks sakes, why was he feeling so frenetic from kissing while seated?! God, his was out of shape. A kiss to a pulsing vein on her throat and Azriel came back to earth. He had descendent more than he meant, more than it was appropriated for a couple in an open public space.

His mind was a whirlwind of chaos and something very unexpected; want. Want hited him out of nowhere. The reality of what he’s done sinking in. He kissed Elain. He had kissed Elain Archeron and he liked it. Slowly, he disentangles his fingers from her hair, putting distance between their bodies, the soft hand with manicured nails, that were twisting the front of his shirt, letting him go, dropping back to her lap.

"Feeling in love yet?" the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s making a constipated expression. Jesus, Cassianism was beginning to rub on him.

The insult doesn’t land quite right with his voice coming out way breathier than before. Shit. The kiss was supposed to be a provocation. Azriel intended to give her a peck and prove her so called 'resolution' was bullshit.

Once again her crazy rambling appeared to be constructed on solid base, the young mouthy brat proving she was way more experienced in understanding relationships than him, even he was the only one between that had 10 years of experience to acount for.

When he approached Elain's lonely sullen self on the beanbag Azriel handn't meant to kiss her. Misery was the emotion bringing them close, not lust!

I'll just warn her off, he had told himself, simply console her that Cassian wasn't that big of a loss, that migling with him would amount to anything big in the end. Despite their constant disagreements, Elain was hardworking and passionate about her job, and Azriel would hate to lose an efficient employee because his brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. A pretty lie his mind carved to give him an excuse to approach her. Seeing Morrigan on his brother's arms was a blown on his progress of forgeting her, and no one here but Elain would be able pro properly share that misery with him.

Azriel was already miserable with himself for waking up sharing a hotel bed with Mor on the night before. In his defense, he had no idea how that happened. Fucking hell, one minute he was visiting a new pub with a friend, the next she was there in his face. He ignored her the best he could, drinking more than he should, his low tolerance for alcohol soon making his wasted. He remember Caleb called calling a cab, hands helping him inside the car, flashes on the elevator and her. No matter how loudly he reprehended or pushed her she did not bulgde.

No matter how hard he tried, Azriel could not remember bedding her, but the evidence was there, their clothes scattered across the room, his coat hung over some chair, a used condom beside his shoe. Fucking idiot, that's what he was. So much effort. So much effort for fucking nothing. No, he would not go down this road again.

It's fine, he thought pulling his pants on, it was a slip, a mistake he would not do again. From now on if he happen to frequent the same space as her Azriel would leave. Being confrontational have never worked with her, Morrigan's habilites to bend him surprising even Azriel. And then she appeared dating his fucking brother not even 24 hours aftwards, the same smiling idiot brother who claimed to have been dating her for months now.

His life was joke.

And so was Elain's.

She didn't know it, but Azriel had watched her pathetic attempt to confess her feelings after the Christmas party, feelings way to pure to be wasted on his heartless brother.

When Elain said her drunken goodbyes and waddled to the elevator, Azriel sat his drink aside and followed on the next one. He doubt she would be able to catch a cab by herself. Turned out she didn't have too, because Cassian had reached her before him, his tall frame nearly hidding Elain from view, a mass of honey curls peeking from his left side.

"I like you," she grabed the front of his shirt for support. "Lainy, don't do this." "Like, really, reaally like you... I think about you all the time." “Oh Lainy, this wouldn’t work.” His brother's voice disperse from where he stood untangling her fingers from the hand-painted shirt Elain had gifted him as secret santa. “We could try," she began shyly, nose red and eyes gliterry from champaign, her own gift - a knitted red scarf, wrapped around her neck. "You don't know it yet, but I'm a great girlfriend," she hiccuped slightly, "I can twerk on it." "You mean swear on it?" "That too." Cassian laughed. "I wouldn't work," he repeted. "Why not?" “You seem like a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, and I don't do flowers and chocolate." Elain was silent for a moment, thinking. "What if I'm lactose intolerant? I won't need that." Cassian ruffed a laugh. "You eat dairy all the time." "Uuurgh, what's wrong with flowers and chocolate? Everybody likes them." "I don't. They bore me. We're better like this, it's not everyday a tight little thing like you has a sense of humor, let's not mess that up, huh. Enough talking now, you're a goner. Give me your phone, I'll uber you."

If his love history with Morrigan wasn't so chaotic, Azriel would have notice that normal Cassian would never have pass to chance to have easy sex with a girl infatuated with him. But his love life sucked and Azriel did not notice, too busy moping about his latest stupid choice as he watched Cassian parading around and introducing Morrigan as his girlfriend, making him feel shittier than ever. Not only he had crawled back into her arms willingly, he had also betrayed his brother.

Fuck his life.

His phone blipped, an incoming message from an unsaved number.

Meet me at mine in 40 minutes.

And now she had his number again.

Fuck his life twice.

When did she get his number? Damn it. He stared at the other texts ignores throgh the day.

why did u leave??? we need to talk call me back enough is enough az i think the condom broke, call me asap

Nothing had broken, and he sure as hell was not calling her. She had used that excuse to reach him before, more than once, which was why he make sure to check it before leaving the hotel. A small hive of bees stabed his spine. He need to leave her presence that instant. Sighing, Azriel took Elain's hand and darted inside de house, searching for an empty room, having to make do with a filthy bathroom when he found none, wandering into another demented conversation with Elain before he could get to the point he wanted.

Her countdown speech had been stupid, but he was out of good ideas to try, and hell would be damned if he would crawl back to Morrigan again.

"Listen, I have a proposition to you. You want to get over my brother, and I want to get over her. I hate to admit, but that crazy talk about a lover might be exactly what I need to move on. What we need. So, instead of doing weird things with strangers, let's help each other, let's date and move on." The words poured out of him fast, courage threatening to leave at any moment.

Elain just stood there, paralyzed, silent, eyes big as saucers. Azriel had no memory of ever seeing her so quiet, but a yappy Elain going mute probably wasn't a good sign.

"Date me, Elain. Date me and I'll date you."

"Why - why me?" She asked in a small voice. "You say you don't hate me, but you don't like me either. We are not friends."

Good, a question. He could work with questions. Azriel was great with quizzes.

"I'm not my brother, I don't like one-nights, it's impersonal and I detest strangers in my space. It's hard for me to connect with people I don't know. You, I know you - you get on my nerves, but that’s just who you are as a person, I've learned to live with that. And kissing you... I enjoyed kissing you more than I anticipated.”

Her eyes cast down, cheeks growing warmer at the mention of their kiss. Azriel kissed her there, right on the bright pink cheek, starting close to her ear to make a line till the corner of her mouth where he nib the skin with intent, his nose desapearing in her soft flesh.

"You said to do different, right?"

She agreed wordlessly.

"Could you imagine me having a heart-to-heart, in a filthy bathroom, with you, of all people? This is me doing different."

Gently, he grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her again, pouring all his attention in Elain and Elain only.

Azriel wouldn't lie, their midnight kiss had been awkward at first, stiffy. Azriel wasn't used to kissing someone he had never managed to maintain a civilized conversation with. Truth be told, Azriel wasn't used to kiss anyone that was not Mor. Once the initial shock waved out, Azriel found himself enjoying the kiss, quickly learning the way Elain liked to be kissed, gently angling her head when their noses bumped, hissing at the sharp nib of teeth sinking in his bottom lip, goosebumps rising as her tongue moved over it to soothe the pain, moving slowly over his tongue next.

Kissing Elain was like nothing he had ever done; kissing her was impulsive, electric... disrupting. It made he feel… something, the sparkle of a feeling that had been dormant for so long he didn't know how to name it anymore. Passionate hands closed round his neck and hair, a sharp tug urging him to move where she wanted, guiding the kiss to her liking.

Elain kissed Azriel as if he was the last man to love in the world, kissed him as if she would never want to kiss anyone else. And Azriel found himself liking that very much.

[phantasmatoucan]

I USUALLY LIKE LOOKING AT PLAYTHROUGHS OF SLAY THE PRINCESS [i usually dont buy games bc i didnt have any money or way to play them before when i was little so by now it kind of became an habit of mine to just watch different playthroughs in youtube and also so i can manage my time properly, thats out the window now bc my brother bought me stp for christmas yesterday so lol] BUT SOMETHING THAT ALWAYS MAKES ME, I DONT KNOW IF SAD ITS THE WORD IM LOOKING WORD BUT LIKE MIFFED IS WHEN PEOPLE DESPISE OPPORTUSNIST, LIKE, I GET IT THO, HE CAN BE SLIMY AND FLIP FLOPPING ALL OVER THE PLACE WITH HIS INTENTIONS, HE DOESNT MAKE IT ANY EASIER BY GOING TO THE NARRATORS SIDE WHICH USUALLY BOTHERS NEW PLAYERS BUT I GUESS SINCE I SEE HIM AS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF TLQ AND HIS SURVIVAL [since that he is essentialy how he came to be] AND HOW DUMB HE CAN BE AS WELL [which is really funny] BUT WHAT CAN I DO IM WATCHING A VIDEO AFTER ALL THIS ALSO HAPPENS WITH BROKEN WHICH HE ALSO DOESNT MAKE IT EASIER BY BEING SO DOWN ON THE DUMPS [for good reason he basically came to be because you gave up your power to the princess] AND PEOPLE THINKING HES PATHETIC AND ANNOYING JUST MAKES ME SAD, theyre just little guys they can be a bit silly

[coralloid]

Some parallels I've noticed between Paris, Texas (1984) and Disco Elysium (2019)

[moongothic]

This is gonna turn into some Crocodad Propaganda eventually but putting the man aside for a little bit

Let's be real for a moment. Regardless of who Luffy's other biological parent is, regardless of if they're relevant to the story or not, no matter what has become of that person, if they're dead or somewhere out there alive, etc-- I believe Oda "knows the truth".

Although it took One Piece until post-Enies Lobby to reveal some of Luffy's blood relatives to us, Oda had technically introduced both Garp and Dragon to us all the way back in the East Blue saga. And Ace was introduced not too long after in the Baroque Works saga, along with his tattoo which held that secret tribute to Sabo all along. (Also he was introduced as "Portgaz D. Ace" meaning Oda must've intended to make the two non-blood brothers from the get-go.) All this means that Luffy's family, both adopted and blood relatives, have been in Oda's mind from the very begining of the story. And so if Oda had figured out Luffy's grandfather, father and at least one brother (if not both) from the begining, then why would he not have decided what became of the person who gave birth to the idiot as well? Like considdering how detail-oriented and meticulous Oda can be, would it not be unusual for him to essentially forget about a character that important (in the sense that Luffy literally would not exist without them) and just handwave them away without much thought? Would that not be out of character for Oda? As such, I don't think it is not unreasonable for us to believe that Oda would know what happened to Luffy's other bio-parent. Mind you, it really could be just something like "Luffy's mother died of The Disease when Luffy was a baby", or "the mom fell down the stairs" or "was eaten by a bear in the woods" or something, anything, whatever. Even if it truly does not matter to the story one bit, I'm sure Oda knows the truth of what happened and why that character wasn't a part of Luffy's life.

But at the same time, if the identity and the fate of Luffy's birthing parent truly did not matter to the story at all, then why wouldn't Oda just tell us who that was and what happened to them? In an SBS or an interview? It's not like people haven't been asking about it, because fans and staff alike have been asking about it for years. If the information really would not change anything, be it the direction the story will take or how we view the characters, if it really is just worthless trivia, then why keep it away from us?

Now of course, I'm sure you'd want to point out that one time Oda told Mayumi Tanaka that "A young boy's adventure begins after he leaves his mother's arms. I want to tell this young boy's adventure story, so his mom is not part of it." And Oda isn't known for lying, we do kind of want to take what he told Mayumi Tanaka at face value. At the same time though. If Luffy's other parent did become a plot relevant character in like the final 200 chapters of the story, after a 1100 chapters, they and their potential connection to Luffy would not have mattered to the story for 90% of its run. For an overwhealming majority of Luffy's adventure, that person would not have been a part of it. So if that character did become relevant, and Oda was lying, then it'd be a white lie at worst. But also, if Oda did intend to reveal that other parent eventually, when the time was right, then surely he wouldn't want to get people hyped up about it way ahead of time. If it did turn out to be a big plot twist or an otherwise important plot point, Oda would want to keep it under the wraps and a secret until the right time, you don't want to spoil something like that. Not to mention it could end up working like a distraction and make people not focus on the more important things happening in the story currently. So really, I think we'd all forgive him for a white lie there. Not to mention, technically speaking, if Luffy doesn't even have a mom but two dads, then Oda wouldn't really be lying either.

But that does bring up an important thing to considder.

If Crocodile does turn out to be Luffy's other dad, when did Oda get that idea, and when would he have committed to it?

Because, keep in mind, One Piece began back in 1997. Twenty seven whole years ago. Which means there's two things to considder; the evolution of queer rights over the past near three decades, as well as the fact that One Piece has more than surpassed Oda's original plans for the series. We must not forget how for a manga to remain serialized in Weekly Shounen JUMP, you need to perform well in the popularity polls consistently; if your manga starts dropping in popularity, JUMP can cancel it and force you end it prematurely. Of course, Oda arguably does not have to worry about those polls anymore after all these decades, there's no way in hell JUMP would ever cancel fucking One Piece in this day and age. But that might not have been the case 15 years ago, that was not the case 20 years ago, and that was absolutely not the fucking case 25 years ago. Like we all famously know that Oda originally planned One Piece to maybe run for like a year, then five years, then ten etc etc. That really is because at the begining of his career he had no quarantee he'd be able to tell the full story he was slow cooking at the back of his mind. Back in the early days, One Piece could've been canceled and ended prematurely, so Oda smartly chose to write it focusing very specifically on what mattered to the story at that moment, in the short term. Yes, he did start laying out the groundwork for things to come, but he did it so subtly that had OP been forced to end early, the series wouldn't have been left with too many massive, gaping plotholes or unresolved sidestories. Another thing to keep in mind is how comic artists for JUMP do have editors etc who can have a say in what goes into the manga (famously, Sasuke only existed because Matashi Kishimoto's editor suggested it). So again, while Oda might be able to do whatever the hell he pleases in One Piece at this point, that wouldn't have been the case 20+ years ago. He would have been more or less at the whims of his editors back in the day.

So would Oda have thought about giving Luffy, the main character of the series, a transgender father back in the year 2000? Could that really have been the secret plan from the start? And would Oda's editor(s) at JUMP have allowed that? Or, did Oda maybe come up with the idea later?

Now just so we're clear, I am NOT suggesting Crocodad was Oda's original intent and that his editors didn't let him do it or anything like that, my tinfoil hat isn't on that fucking tight. What I do want to suggest, is that it is plausible Crocodile being Luffy's other dad was an idea Oda was playing around with at the back of his mind from the begining, but wasn't sure he'd ever get to, mainly due to the uncertainty of series' future and partially because he could've been unsure if his editors would even allow him to write that story. And IF this was the case, Oda may not have even started committing to to the idea until around the CP9 saga. Or, it's possible Oda only got the idea sometime after the completion of the Alabasta arc/during Skypiea saga, and started laying down the groundwork for during Summit War so that, if he ever got around to it, he'd be able to commit and tell that story.

Regardless, let's be real.

It is interesting and kind of suspicious how Crocodile does just happen to be introduced around the same time the rest of Luffy's family was first shown to us, even if we didn't know Garp and Dragon were Luffy's family yet (this was also the same time the first canon queer character was introduced; Oda was playing around with queer characters during Crocodile's introduction, possibly testing the waters to see what he could get away with?) During the CP9 Saga we got the Miss Goldenweek cover story, where we see what's become of Crocodile after the fall of Baroque Works. This is of course adding to the world building of the CP9 Saga (where we're told the criminals who go through Enies Lobby are either sent to Impel Down or to Marineford; so us finding out Crocodile's gone to ID is playing off of what we knew would become of Robin and Franky and the Strawhats not come to rescue them. AND it's foreshadowing for the Summit War Saga), but also, soon after we were reminded of Crocodile and told where he's been sent off to, we were finally formally introduced to Garp and Dragon (Garp having already been mentioned by Aokiji at the begining of the Saga). And we close off the Saga watching Ace and Blackbeard have their fateful match. So again, Crocodile was on Oda's mind around the same time the rest of Luffy's family was. And indeed, after Thriller Bark we then move onto Summit War proper, where Oda does all The Things we would considder The Groundwork for Crocodad, most important being the introduction of Ivankov and their Devil Fruit. But again, just like before, Crocodile just happens to be there at the same time as this saga, which really heavily focuses on Luffy's family, plays out. While we learn about Dragon's secretive nature and connection to Iva-chan, Garp's feelings for the boys, Ace's struggle with his heritage and Luffy's love for him, Sabo and Garp... Yeah, Crocodile's just... Also there.

Whenever Oda starts dwelling into Luffy's family, Crocodile is always there. It's a bizarre coincidence if nothing else.

(And oh won't you look at that, Crocodile has once again become a plot relevant character, just in time for The Final Saga where Dragon has also started becoming actually plot relevant as well)

All of this to say, again.

The fact that Oda has refused to tell us anything about Luffy's other parent is sus, and to me indicates that either although unusual for him Oda genuinely just doesn't give a damn about Luffy's other parent, or he's been trying to play it safe for years so that if he ever got the opportunity, he could give Luffy two dads. (Or maybe there's some other twist that has nothing to do with Crocodile, that is possible too, I just feel like if that was the case then why hide it for 27 years?)

Whatever the case, I'm sure Oda knows the truth.

And I'm sure we will find out the truth eventually, be it on the pages of the comic or in the SBS.

[somerandomcockroach]

@keferon OKAY BUT LISTEN YEAH I would loved if it was just fun ehehehe and sassy flirting with the demon no one sees pfffht, literally summoned a demon just to flirt with, and I guess it could have been going for a long time, just little strips with their funny adventures and then plot can go to the fact that he wants to give him a body and Shockwave would agree or that they just stay the way they are and just hang out like this together (Alo I remember that you wanted to put Ratchet (I keep writing Ratched instead of Ratchet buuuh) and Drift in it as another demon and their summoner thing whghweghgwe but I like how you made two separate stories for them that happen at the same time, okay I am actually PRETTY MUCH invested in this story, I like a lot how it goes and gets tangled and how mixes up with idw ideas and other stuff a lot)

BUT NOW that you changed it that way, you made a few more things that reader might be interested a lot in, like that promise he made and you mentioning that he will regret it, how their relationship progressively develops, plus the fact that Blurr was a frivolous slob gifted with dark magic AND how the tables turn upside dow and he get consequences for what he did in the most unpredictable way for him and how he surely changes in his behaviour, getting more and more concerned about his promise and maybe truly loving someone for the first time in his life and wanting to change something. And then figuring out that that same demon actually was a person before, someone he knew, someone respectable, kind, shiny, absolut sun of a person, who died (I am still on my knees waiting to know how exactly he died...) miserably to the point that he absolutely can't stand his life as a demon and NOT EVEN being able to kill himself!!! And Blurr was a pupil in his school, he saw him, he gifted him an ability to make his magic work for him, gave the freedom to live among everyone to all who was poisoned with this dark magic. OH WAITA HGSDHAG the thing that beastformers can't walk among transformers and the fact that dark spellers also could not, and how these events happen at a close times, OKAY so dark spellers got their kind of freedom thanks to Senator Shockwave (OH MY GOD what if Orion can see Shockwave and will recognise him right away COUGH) BUT I am wondering if beastformers will get some kind of an official declaration or some kind of school to be educated in and I wonder if Deadlock/Drift (I think after leaving he will change his name from the last episode...) will volunteer to be a teacher t be something more, or he will just end up with Ratchet wandering around the world, or maybe there will be a whole damn revolution where all monoformers and beastformers leaded by Drift go against the system, and maybe these events happen at the same time as a Senator Shockwave fighting for the rights of gifted... Okay I'm getting carried a little bit ahsghag excuse me... OH I GOT carried away A LOT I wanted to get back to the point that Blurr, now figuring out the past of Shocwave, dealing with all the events, dealing with what he has done and find a way to free them, at the same time STILL having adventures and fun since I'm sure he can be a good mood lifter to moody Shockwave and even see him in a really good mood since he is... well, not just a demon made of hatred but the wonderful kind of person in his previous life... (okay being carried away but what if Orion might declare the freedom to beastformers (AJHGAJHSDJAH OH MY GOD I IMAGINED JAZZ AS A PANDA HAVING A ROMAN WITH PROWL AND PROWL NOT KNOWING ABOUT IT OKAY SORRY) after seeing what it lead to after Senator Shockwave. And maybe Ratchet will be able to get his sign back freely after revolution will be successful or he will be forever blind just to be free and safe with his husband OKAY LISTEN I think it is obvious that I really like the thing you do....