#[ THAT I WOULD NOT ADD ONTO MY MULTI ]

[laurrelise]

someone talk with me about an AU where delores is a real girl who somehow survived the initial apocalypse and spends it growing old with five and keeping him sane

someone talk with me about delores being five’s age when he discovers her body in the rubble and thinks she’s dead before he notices the small rise and fall of her chest before he pulls her out and desperately tries to help her breathe normally again and watches the life fill her eyes with tears in his own that he’s finally no longer alone

someone talk with me about delores being an only child to parents who she wasn’t close with leading her to become dependent on herself until she meets five and learns to trust other people before finding out about his huge family and doing everything in her power to help him not only because she cares about him and wants him to be happy but also because she wants to experience the family she’s never had

someone talk with me about how delores never had powers but survived for the 40+ years in the apocalyptic wasteland of the future due to her seriously genius mind (and five’s help) and lives to help five figure out how to save his family

someone talk with me about young five and delores searching for anything they can find to survive before they stumble upon a half-broken mannequin with a surprisingly intact polka-dotted blouse that five says would suit her so she puts it on out of boredom from looking for materials before five looks at her with the most genuine, in-love eyes she’s ever seen and she decides to keep it just for him

someone talk with me about five always making sure delores has a comfortable place to sleep, to rest, to eat, etc

someone talk with me about five explaining his childhood so nonchalantly one day once he realizes that he can trust delores to her surprise, and she asks why he suddenly had the strength to tell her and he looks her in the eyes and says “believe it or not, you’re stuck with me, and i’m stuck with you, and i want you to know who i am when we’re kicking this apocalypse in the ass”

someone talk with me about teenage five teaching teenage delores how to defend herself with the training he was given during his childhood but reassuring her that he’ll always be there to protect her if something were to happen (to which she reminds him that she appreciates it, but knows she can defend herself with the spite and sheer willpower she has to survive)

someone talk with me about five and delores having a makeshift wedding and five’s vows being along the lines of “even if the rest of the world was alive, i don’t think i could ever hope to find someone that makes me as truly happy as you do, and i will be eternally grateful that of anyone i could get stuck in this goddamn apocalypse with, it was always you, and it will always be you”

someone talk with me about the handler showing up from the commission to recruit five as a temporal assassin and delores as a case worker because they’re both dangerously smart and incredible at surviving in harsh conditions (also, the handler approached them separately to see where their loyalties lied and they both firmly explained they wouldn’t go anywhere without the other)

someone talk with me about delores getting fed up with the handler repeatedly making moves on five despite him clearly being uncomfortable until it bubbles to a climax and she punches her square in the jaw, which results in an ER trip and zero regret (plus five falling even harder in love with the woman who endlessly sticks up for him)

someone talk with me about five and delores plotting an escape plan to get back to 2019 which all goes well, except five had once again messed up the math (or so he thought) and he and delores are placed back in their 13 year-old bodies, but she confesses that she doesn’t mind seeing the boy she fell in love with all those years ago once again

someone talk with me about delores learning to trust and love the hargreeves just as much as five, as they learn to love and trust her just as much

someone talk with me about five always keeping track of dates and specifically remembering the exact times of significant events for himself and delores, like the moment she looked at him for the first time, the moment he knew he was in love with her, and the moment they decided they were going to stop at nothing to keep each other alive and stop the world from ending

someone talk with me about five and delores, the 58 year-old couple that they are, snuggling up on elliot’s couch together because they can’t fall asleep without the other one there to remind them that they’re safe and out of harm’s way (mostly)

someone talk with me about how delores has never been the type to step down, and she continues to stand her ground and be brutally honest when shes upset or wants five to listen to her, and he admires her bluntness (and frankly, needs it) due to his impatience and expectations of honesty at all times

someone talk with me about delores knowing exactly when five needs his time alone and stepping away to help his siblings as much as she possibly can, usually by encouragement or (again) brutal honesty hidden behind a kind and genuine smile

someone talk with me about five reminding delores of his love for her whenever it’s too quiet or he thinks she’s gone too long without him showing it, in every way he can think of, like letting her know that he would’ve lost his mind in the apocalypse without her (which.. he kind of did?), finding little things that remind him of her and bringing them to her, and holding her hand whenever he sees frustration or discomfort bubbling behind her eyes

[causalitylinked]

( tfw @spiritpyro​ has yet to make a tce2 verse for hayate, but i already made a musician foil specifically for him since every go-home club member happens to have one. )

He goes by RION, which happens to be his musician name, but in reality, his real name happens to be Michiki Zukawa.

Despite appearing to be relatively young, RION is actually a married man in his late thirties with two kids, but his relationship with his wife happens to be a toxic, abusive one; in fact, he ended up being abused by her for years, so his regret can be summed up as ‘entering into a relationship with a violent woman’. Of course, the whole reason he doesn’t divorce her is because they have children together and nobody would take male domestic abuse survivors seriously, but because he is too cowardly to confront her or be a present father, RION would oppose Hayate and the other Go-Home Club members at every turn... because them returning back to reality means he can no longer live out his days in Redo.

He works as a zookeeper, so his in-game dungeon would basically be a zoo called Zuutopia, which is not only the place he happens to work at, but a location where the Go-Home Club members would eventually infiltrate, because sadly, defeating all the Musicians is basically one of the requirements of returning back to their world. The animals, though, happen to be fakes made by Regret; therefore, they may appear as static by those who are already aware Redo is fake.

I can’t really find a fitting song that would serve as his theme, but his music tends to revolve around mental health, depression, self-harm, and abusive love, all while having melancholic melodies with soft instrumentals, similarly to this song. Honestly, Hayate may have listened to his music and resonated with most of it before being transported to Redo, because back in the real world, RION was a Doll-P who ended up channelling his negative emotions into his music.

Because he’s meant to be a foil to Hayate, RION is gentle, well-mannered, kind, wimpy ( in the sense that abrasive women easily intimidate him ), pessimistic, melancholic, and cowardly. Despite being soft-spoken, however, he has no qualms, digging up dirt about Hayate’s past, so rather than fight him immediately, he’ll attempt to convince him that not only is the real world not worth it, Vivian would do nothing but cause him to suffer in the long run. To him, women are really more trouble than they’re worth, so he would encourage Hayate to keep running away from her now that they are officially neighbours. Furthermore, RION would even go as far as to call Vivian an ‘awful girl’ and would claim it’s not his fault, she ended up attempting suicide.

RION is a misogynist... not in the sense that he believes women are meant to serve men, of course, but in the sense that they’re all evil, selfish, manipulative creatures who aren’t capable of genuine love. To that end, he doesn’t exactly put Regret on a pedestal and has little affection for her. Unfortunately, though, most of his fans happen to be women, which distresses him to no end.

His weapon would be a giant box cutter, but he doesn’t like resorting to fighting, so he would prefer to talk things out before exchanging blows. Why, even when fighting Hayate, one could tell his heart isn’t exactly in it and that it pains him to actually have to hurt him and the Go-Home Club members ( even if Redo happens to be a fake world ).

Like Kudan, RION also happens to smoke.

He would refer to Hayate as ‘Hayate-kun’, and unlike how most of the Musicans would despise their Go-Home Club foils, RION can’t really bring himself to loathe him, if only because he sees a lot of himself in the younger man.

Because he has experience with parenting, kids seem to naturally gravitate towards him and he seems to be really good with children.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

so i have a VERY BAD FEVER AND I WANT CRYO LADIES USING THEIR VISION TO COOL OF sick! S/O

(you can also add any other charafter of your liking ❤️❤️)

(Genshin Impact) Eula, Rosaria, Ayaka, Ganyu, and Shenhe using their vision on a sick S/O

This is completely unrelated to the ask, but while writing this I've been listening to the Winter Soldier theme from Captain America. And for such a lovely ask it is very strange writing to one of the hardest themes I've ever heard in my life.

Eula huffs and puffs when her S/O gets sick, but absolutely does not hesitate to begin applying Cryo therapy.

As long as it wasn't contagious anyway.

With one hand gently resting against their forehead as she sits next to them in bed, Eula can't help but brush her fingers across their hair while doing so.

Her expression is gentle, until the moment S/O speaks up.

(Eula) "Am I enjoying this? Of course not, my plans must be halted because you had the audacity to fall ill. Something I will not forget easily, of course. I could always freeze you right here and now."

Yet, her hand is resting on S/O's face still, fingers rubbing down to their cheek as if they were made of glass.

Rosaria honestly didn't think of using her Cryo vision to bring down S/O's fever.

She really only used it for work, and S/O sure as hell wasn't on her list for tonight of people to use it on.

But, at their insistence, she lets her hand cool them down, being very careful to use it sparingly.

(Rosaria) "If it gets too cold, let me know, I guess. Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

Rosaria tries to be as gentle as she can, and has to remove her gloves to avoid poking S/O in the eyes.

Her own hand feeling S/O so tenderly gets her a little flustered, the only way S/O can tell was by her actively avoiding meeting their eyes.

Ayaka felt like a stroke of genius hit her when she brought S/O's high temperature down.

With a smile, Ayaka eagerly sits down with S/O in order to help.

(Ayaka) "Please, rest easy S/O. Would you like anything to eat while I'm here?"

She could just hire some help or get Thoma to help S/O, but part of her quite enjoyed being the one to care for S/O.

It was unfortunate they were sick, but she sure wasn't going to complain about spending time with S/O, especially when she could actively help them.

The entire time she's with them, Ayaka's smile never really goes away.

Ganyu has done the same to herself whenever she felt under the weather, though without too much effect since she was used to the cold.

But she breathed a massive sigh on relief when it had a visible effect on S/O's fever.

(Ganyu) "Ah, good! It's working! The medicine should be working soon, but in the meantime!-"

She brings a little bit of her paperwork to get through as she sits next to S/O, multi-tasking to help them recover.

Even if her S/O insists that they don't have to worry, she'll still take care of them anyway.

Work was important, but the love of her life was even moreso.

Shenhe, on top of retrieving some medicinal herbs and creating a brew concocted by her master, helps S/O's fever with her Vision.

...By grabbing onto their forehead with her entire hand, looking like she was about to crush their head instead of heal.

(Shenhe) "Are you comfortable S/O? Please relax and I'll bring down your temperature."

Careful with both her strength and Vision, she used them in moderation in order to help, much to S/O's terror when half their vision was blotted out by her palm.

The entire time Shenhe is focused on making sure S/O recovers well, trying her best to make sure they were comfortable.

Was it entirely comfortable? Truthfully, no. It was a little awkward.

But damned if S/O wasn't grateful that Shenhe was trying.

[thearchercore]

Struggle to keep up with the exploding amount of lestappen fic on ao3 recently. Any must-read, multi-chapter fic recommendations which are complete recently? Thanks a lot!

well, you have to define recently. but also i dont think i read too many multichapter fics. final disclaimer: i prefer romcom fics, that's my niche and i stand by that so my taste is gonna very much look like it a few highlights i remember: help me hold onto you by @maaxverstappen - im pretty sure it's not finished THAT BEING SAID it's still a banger twitch streamer charles and f1 driver max au cameras in the traffic lights - not a multichapter but i know this person coded this one shot to the moon and back. truly admirable work that must have taken a lot of patience. f1 driver max and singer charles social media au.

meet me in montreal series by @bumblewyn - cute series of one shots following this season! very light fun read

A Healthy Dose of Hair Dye - that one was FUN, f1 driver max and hairdresser charles au (this is becoming a pattern that i swear i havent noticed before lmao). but it's romcom excellence! those i think would fall into the somewhat recent category? i have to admit, i haven't really had time to read too much so i'm kinda slacking behind. non recent but let me add the one i PERSONALLY read recently is give me that fire by @ladysomething - lestappen chef au. i didn't read it when it came out because i'm anti-hopeful ending truther but then got a personal pinky promise by the author that the hopeful ending is more happy than hopeful so i gave it a shot and it was, indeed, happy. also recommend to read anything from her catalogue of fics, they're great, probably my favourite lestappen author on ao3 but i don't want her to know that so keyword is PROBABLY hope i helped at least a bit! if any of YOU have romcom recs, shoot them my way, my inbox is open

[bookuce]

Fools Rush In (Roman Reigns)

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know. Isn’t it funny how fate work?

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: N/A

WORD COUNT: 1904

CHAPTER ONE

It was supposed to be a Girls’ Night for Nessa and Isabel. The plan was dinner and a movie, but now they wanted drinks. So they found themselves in a popular nightclub here in Miami. They approached the well-lit bar, their eyes visually drinking up the mountain of alcohol in front of them. “So,” Nessa breathes. “What do you want? The first round is on me.” The brunette turns her attention to her best friend. Her fingers excitedly tap the counter. “Are we feeling darks or clears?” She presses.

“Yes,” Isabel answers with a breathy laugh.

“Girl, I can’t drink like that anymore.” Nessa giggles. The statement wasn’t far from the truth. The last time she mixed her liquors, she woke up to potentially blackmailing videos on her phone. Never again. Nessa hums softly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “Let’s play it safe with clears. Vodka?” She asks. Isabel grimaces.

“Tequila?” She answers with a question.

They exchange stares in silence for a moment before putting their fists out. They shake them four times. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They say in unison, throwing out different hand gestures. Nessa’s fist remains tight while Isabel’s hand is open. Paper beats rock.

“Lo siento, mi amor!” She exclaims while closing her hand around Nessa’s fist. “Maybe next time.” She turns her attention toward the bartender passing off shots to some nearby clubbers. “Two shots of Teremana, please!” The bartender nods at her request and turns to grab the bottle from the alcohol mountain. “With lime,” she adds with a smile. “Yeah.” she nods slightly.

Nessa shakes her head at the petite Latina. It was never a dull moment with her lively best friend. She turns over her left shoulder to grab her wallet from her back pocket but is halted by dark eyes watching her a few feet down. A smirk curls onto the lips of this bearded man once caught. Anxiety would rush through Nessa’s veins like electricity, causing slight chest pains for her.

Oh, he is handsome, she thought.

The bar lights lit his features well, the shadows chiseling out his bone structure. His hair laid against his head flat, pulled up into a bun, the sides shaved. He looks groomed—at least from here, he did.

“Ness,” Isabel calls, snapping Nessa out of the trance she was in.

The distracted woman turns her attention back to her friend, forgetting all about grabbing her wallet. “Yeah?” She asks. Isabel gestures towards the two shots in front of her. The bartender standing before them waited impatiently for a payment. “Oh shit, sorry.” She mutters, reaching into her back pocket for her wallet. A tan hand appears in front of her, a black credit card between two large fingers.

“Put it on my tab.” A deep voice says right above her ear. “I have their drinks all night.” He adds. The bartender eyed the black card in the man’s hand before taking it.

“What’s the name?” She asks.

“Joe.” He answers. Just as Nessa turns to look at the man, he lowers his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He says to her with a half-grin. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of approval from her best friend at the tall man.

Ness takes the warm hand, shaking it slightly. His hands were rough, a sure indication of a hardworking man. She now wonders what he does. Construction? Maybe. Architect? Possibly. “Vanessa—Nessa for short.” She says finally. He presses his lips into a thin grin and nods his head once at her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nessa.” He says, opting for the shorter version of her name. Mentally, she was happy he did. She preferred it over her full name. She felt more like a Nessa than Vanessa. They would continue to shake hands slightly while gazing at each other, both not realizing that they were still doing it. Isabel would watch them curiously from behind Nessa. She gawked over the man’s size. In height, he towered over her and her friend. She could tell he was very fit. She’s now wondering if he has a regimen he’d be willing to share.

“It’s a pleasure,” Nessa says, finally looking away from the chocolate-brown eyes that entranced her. Her eyes find their hands still wrapped around each other’s, and she drops it. She would peer up at him from the side, noticing his eyes still on her. Her heart began to soar at the sight. My, this man was overwhelmingly attractive.

“Thank you for the drinks!” Isabel would say suddenly. Nessa clears her throat and nods.

“Yeah, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She says, chiming in.

“Well, I had to find a reason to come over here.” He explains with a shrug. “It’s no problem.” Silence would fall between the pair, causing Nessa to look ahead. She wasn’t too good at talking to men. It was only a matter of time before she said something to chase him off, or he realized she was not what he was looking for—whatever that may be.

“So…” Isabel chimes in. “Joe, what brings you here?”

“My cousins. Nightclubs aren’t really my thing, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He confesses. “What about you two? Here with anyone?” He asks. His second question is for Nessa. Joe hoped to God she wasn’t here with anyone. If she was, his efforts to know her would be in vain.

“It’s a Girl’s Night,” Nessa says, opting out of his second question.

“But are you here with anyone?” He asks, now directly asking her.

Isabel smiled at the interaction, mentally hoping Nessa would take what he was giving. Meeting guys in the club wasn’t the safest idea, but he seemed pretty sober to her. At the moment, she sees no warning lights flashing above his head. “I’m married,” Isabel says, jumping in again. If she could do anything for her best friend right now, it would be to set her up with this fine specimen of a man. She leans into her best friend, nudging her to speak up.

Nessa turns to Isabel briefly, her eyes widening before returning to Joe. “I’m not.” She says finally.

“A lucky guy at all?” He asks.

“No.”

“Lucky me.” He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Bartender,” He calls out, waving his hand. The same one that served us earlier approaches us. “Another round for us, please.” He says, whirling his index finger in the air.

Joe spoke with a swagger Nessa had never heard from a man. He radiated so much confidence. If he looks like that, how can you blame him? She’s now cycling through possible professions again. Lawyer, maybe. Doctor, no. Athlete, strong possibility. The poor girl was guessing everything but a serial killer. Nessa would take a glance down at his right hand. No ring, no ring tan. He was an unmarried man himself.

“Lucky girl?” She asks suddenly.

“Hm?” He hums, his thick brows lifting.

“I said, is there a lucky girl?” She repeats, leaning in towards him. Joe looks at her, quickly shaking his head.

“No, not for a little over a year now.” He answers, giving her more info than she was seeking. He reaches down to grab one of the three shots before them. He tosses it down the hatch, his jaw clenching and unclenching at the taste and burn. His last relationship wasn’t one he preferred to talk about. Though he should’ve been mad at his ex, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He’s gone most of the year; who’d want to stay with someone they barely see?

“Are you from here?” She asks.

“No, I’m from Pensacola.” And there it was. Joe was from another city. One that happened to be six hundred miles away from here. He was here for vacation, here for fun. She was not interested in that. “What about you?”

“I’m local.” She breathed, her shoulders shrugging as she spoke. “Been here my entire life.” She adds now reaching to grab her shot. She tosses it back slowly, her eyes closing slightly. She places the glass on the counter.

“That—.”

“Look,” She says suddenly. “I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, and I really hate to assume, but I’m not looking for a hookup.” She looks around. “Especially here.” She looks at him with a shake of her head. “Not a smart idea.”

Joe’s eyes venture away from her face, his eyes now on the bar counter. His large fingers would curl against the surface while he chose his words. “I understand.” He says, nodding. He lifts his hand, his palm up and open. “I’m not much of—of a hookup person myself.” He explains looking over at her. “I barely know how to do that kind of stuff—the pickup lines and whatnot.” He explains, leaning towards her slightly.

“Right,” Nessa nods.

“My cousins tried to teach me, but I’m not really feeling it, you know what I mean? I’ve never been one to do that.” He was now rambling, his anxiety starting to spike. Maybe he shouldn’t have come out. He can already hear Jon and Josh teasing him for not being able to pick up women. It should come easy to him with the way he looked, but how he looked and who he was were two completely different people. He stops himself, a slow blink to follow while he gathers himself. Just talk, Joe, he thinks. He takes a breath. “I just figured I’d come over and introduce myself, maybe find a reason to come back to this place. Miami is a bit scary after a certain hour with all of the…colorful people.” She chuckles at that, receiving a grin from him in return. Maybe he was winning her over again. “Maybe I can get your number instead?” He proposes.

Nessa watches him for a moment, her eyes searching for ill intent she’d never find. He did seem like a sweet guy; at least she was hoping he was. Isabel was staring a hole in the back of Nessa’s head. Surely this woman has some sense. If she didn’t give this man her number, she was going to give her a piece of her mind after (and maybe sneak her number to him behind her back).

“Uh,” Nessa starts.

“Perra, dale tu número.” Isabel hisses, pinching her side. Nessa shrinks away from the pinch, looking back at her friend who was glaring at her.

“Sure, why not.” She says, looking at Joe. A large smile would spread across his face as he fished his phone out of his coat pocket. She’d take the warm phone, putting in her info as a contact. She passes the phone back to him. “Don’t make me regret it.” She warns him.

“I won’t.” He says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” He nods, looking between her and her friend. “I’ll let you ladies get back to your Girls Night. Remember, your drinks are on me. Be safe.” He says, walking off to find his cousins. Nessa and Isabel both watched as he vanished into the crowded space that was the dance area.

“I can’t believe you almost fumbled that!” She exclaims. “That man is fine, fit, and looks rich, mi amoré, okay? Alex is lucky I love him, because that one would’ve gotten fu—.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Nessa snips.

CHAPTER 2

———————————————————————————

A/N: so…fancy seeing you here LMAO. Should’ve seen it coming tbh. This is the first chapter of another little fanfic I have tucked away. I hope you like it!

[munsons-hellfire]

You're Losing Me 1 | Rhysand

SUMMARY: You married Rhysand for an escape from the Court of Nightmares. You loved him, but he wasn't Azriel. He wasn't your mate. And now Rhys and Azriel are losing you to the aftermath of Under the Mountain.

PAIRINGS: Rhysand x Reader, Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Feyre Archeron

CONTENT WARNING: Heartbreak, fated mates, MFW, no smut, angst, fluff mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one shot is based around You're Losing Me (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift. This will be a multi-part series that will kind of follow the books but will be altered a little. And yes it starts out with Rhys as the love interest but by the second part it'll be more focused on Azriel. If you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this multi-part series let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the tag list.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

You were trapped Under the Mountain with your husband. He needed a partner, you needed a reason to leave your family behind in the Court of Nightmares. He was that escape for you, and you were that savior for him. It was only ever a marriage based upon a deal. But over the years you’d both fallen in love with each other. That’s what you had told yourself anyway. You knew that he told himself that too. Rhysand wasn’t Azriel… he wasn’t your mate.

Just before you and Rhysand had left for the party, you had felt the bond snap between you and Azriel. Though you hadn’t been sure if he had felt it. You’d never got the chance to ask anyway. You and Rhys were trapped Under the Mountain for 49 years, with no way for you to feel the bond between you and Azriel. It truly broke something inside you and you had felt it. You knew how you had gotten to this moment in time.

A human had saved you all, but you had suffered choosing to protect her from the wrath of Amarantha. She didn’t take too kindly to that. You were separated from the others not even knowing what had happened with the trials. You lied on the cold floor under the mountain still. Blood was leaking from your body, from the deep cuts that littered your body.

“A punishment for intervening with the human.” She’d said to you before they had dragged you away from Rhys. Panic had run through your body but it truly wasn’t enough to save you. The sobs had long since stopped coming out of your mouth. You felt so hollow lying there on the floor. The cold air rushed against the open cuts on your back. After the guards had left your room you’d heard commotion.

But you made no move to get up off the floor, too much pain ran through your body to allow you to pick yourself up from the floor. You felt calloused hands touch the side of your arm. Slowly you opened your eyes and looked up to see your husband staring back at you. A sad expression crossed Rhysand’s face as he kneeled down to look at you.

“My love.” He whispered, tears threatening to escape from his eyes.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said softly, closing your eyes and pulling your head away from Rhys.

“I need to get you home.” Your eyes opened up and you stared up at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s dead, we’re free. I need to get you to Madja.” You felt shock course through your body.

You would finally be heading home to your mate, seeing him for the first time in 49 years. “How?” It was a simple question and all you could get out.

“Feyre, she saved us all.” When your eyes found Rhysand’s violet eyes, you saw that look. You knew all too well what that look meant.

“She’s your mate isn’t she?” You asked. Rhys only nodded. “Az…” You paused, watching Rhys stare at you with a raised brow. But he seemed to understand what you were trying to say.

“You’ll see him soon enough.” Rhys gripped your hand and the two of you winnowed back to your home.

☾

Darkness is the only thing you saw before you woke up. The pain to your back was unbearable and you ended up passing out in Rhys arms. Azriel sat in the bed holding onto your hand, you rested on your stomach and the wounds on your back were starting to heal. He still wasn’t processing the fact that his brother and his mate were back home. It was so unreal to him. His shadows gilded around your body, careful to not touch your back.

They were beyond happy to have you back. You were home. Azriel wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, not ever again. He looked up when he saw Rhys standing at the door, he gave a small nod and adjusted his wings, pulling them in tightly as he stepped off the bed and walked over to Rhys.

“How’s Y/N?” Rhys asked, violet eyes on his wife. Though he knew that there might be a divorce in the future. You and Rhys would want different things now. He knew it even if you weren’t awake to express that. Rhys still cared for you deeply and would still allow you a home. Besides he knew that Azriel would kick his ass if he let you go back to the Court of Nightmares.

“Holding on.” Azriel kept his hazel eyes on you not wanting to look away for a second. He was so afraid that he’d lose you again. Not being able to hold you, comfort you, be there for you when you were struggling it was killing him.

“You know she doesn’t blame you for what happened to us.” Rhys said, picking up on what he was thinking just by the way he’d been staring at you.

“I should’ve gone with the both of you to the damned party.” Azriel’s tone was clipped, his jaw tight. He crossed his hands over his chest while his shadows moved around his body. Only a few remained near you.

“I gave you an order to stay here. Y/N, told you to listen to it. We didn’t need you there, we needed you here with everyone else to watch over Velaris. Y/N had told me that Amarantha might try to do something, she had told me that it was best that we go and make sure you all stay back here.”

“How did she know?” Azriel placed his hazel eyes on his brother.

“I don’t know, gut feeling I suppose. I’ve been wanting to see if Y/N might have some type of power.”

“Could that be possible?”

“It could be. We found out that she’s Hybern’s child. Amarantha told us. Apparently her mother escaped to the Court of Nightmares but gave her up before disappearing. No one had seen or heard from her that Y/N was left with that despicable family.”

“If you two get a divorce will she be sent back to the Court of Nightmares?” Rhys could hear the panic and worry in his brother’s voice. Finally Rhys turned to place his full on Azriel.

“We will get a divorce because I’m not you, she wants to be with you and to be honest she’s not Feyre. We had discussed this when we got married in the beginning. That should one or both of us find our mate and we want to accept it the other would allow a divorce. I’m letting her go, I still care for her deeply but she is not mine to love, not anymore.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Azriel said sternly.

“I won’t send her back, Az. You should already know that. Y/N is your mate and your hers. She’s also a valued member of the Inner Circle. I do not plan on tossing her aside because I’ve found myself. I made a bargain to keep her protected from that family and I will continue to do that.” Rhys paused, he placed his violet eyes on you. You had heard the last stretch of their conversation. Rhys had told Azriel that you belonged to Hybern, that you were his offspring and yet he was still here. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Rhys disappeared before Azriel could say anything further. You adjusted your body slightly to get more comfortable on the bed. Azriel was quick to move to your bed. You felt a few of his shadows swarm your body, they were being mindful of the cuts.

“Can you help me up?” You asked, as you were eager to get out of the bed and walk around. Azriel only nodded, he was silent and you started to think it was because of who your true father was. Azriel held onto your hands as he helped you walk around your room.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, his gaze on you. You had to look up at him, he was so much taller than you were.

“I’m fine.” You replied, it was a lie though. You were in a nightmare of your own making. Things were happening, you could feel it. Something was happening, a war was coming and you didn’t know how to tell them.

☾

Three weeks had passed, Rhysand, Azriel and Madja thought that they were getting better. And you were getting better, at least your back was. But you were declinding, your mind wasn’t the way it was before Amarantha had happened. And with all the trauma you’d received at the hands of your adoptive mother and adoptive father, followed by Amarantha. It was a struggle for you.

Cassian sat in your room with you, the door was open and the windows were open too. A breeze flew in while a shadow hovered around you. Azriel was out on a mission, he didn’t want to go by Rhys needed him to go on this mission so he’d ask Cass to sit with you and watch over you while he was gone. You laid on your bed, not facing the light coming from the sun outside. It was too bright in here for your liking.

You pulled the covers over your head ignoring Cassian when you knew he was staring at you. It pained him to see you like this. To see you suffering in silence and not sharing it with anyone. You hadn’t even talked to Rhys and Az about what was bothering you. But the truth was simple, you didn’t know how to tell them, to talk about the things that Amarantha forced you to do. It was far worse than the punishment you’d gotten for trying to intervene to save Feyre.

She’d discovered your powers, knew what you could do. And she used that to her advantage. Every time she manipulated you, made you believe that she’d find your mate and you’d watch him die. That’s when you learned from Amarantha that you were able to sense bad things. You knew that you could sense good things, but the majority of the time it was a handful of bad things that followed you around. You weren’t a seer.

That much was clear, while you could predict things before they could happen you couldn’t see them. Only feel them with every inch of your body, mind, and soul. You had yet to explain this to Rhysand. You knew he was itching to know what abilities you had. He was trying to see if you’d be a threat to him. You felt the room get darker, and suddenly you could hear voices all around you. One voice belonged to Cassian, the other belonged to your now ex-husband.

The divorce was quick and easy. You hadn’t been ready to accept the mating bond yet and Azriel was okay with that, he was okay with waiting even though that’s not what he felt on the inside. The sheets were ripped from your body and you groaned reaching for a pillow to pull over your head.

“No, you’ve been moping around for three weeks Y/N. You need to get up out of this bed now, and we need to discuss your powers.” His voice boomed around in your room, the pillow was then yanked from your hands. Your hair was wild and you were now glaring at the High Lord.

“Why? So you can throw me out the second I seem like I’m going to be a threat to your court.” You tried to hold yourself together, you stood on your bed on your knees glaring at Rhys, and Cassian who was still in the room. His face seemed to soften at the confession that left your lips.

“I will never throw you out of my court, you may not be my wife anymore. But you are and always will be one of my best friends. I made a promise to keep you safe and no matter what I will keep that. But this moping around needs to stop, you’re hurting Azriel.”

You were hurt, those words “you’re hurting Azriel,” they swarmed your mind. The words seemed to send you into a panic, you collapsed to the bed. Your eyes were staring up at the ceiling. Rhy's eyes came into view but you couldn’t move. It was happening again and you knew it. This is what Amarantha said you’d do when they started. You’d go deathly still as fragments of images and words appeared in your mind.

You’d always done your best to hide this from your family (well adoptive family), but when they saw it they knew it was grounds for punishment. And everytime it happened afterward you’d be sent to your room where you’d be locked in there for a week sometimes longer. When you made it to Velaris you’d gotten good at hiding it so they didn’t know about your power. Because you and Rhys didn’t sleep with each other or in the same room he never saw it.

It wasn’t until Amarantha that things got worse. She’d managed to unlock something inside you and turn this into a far more powerful being. You refused to call yourself a seer because you couldn’t see full on visions. When you finally got your vision back you saw Rhys and now Cass. They were both staring down at you worry etched across both their faces.

“What was that, Y/N?” Rhys questioned, as he and Cass lifted you up into a sitting position.

“I don’t remember much about my mother aside from the constant visions she had. They weren’t visions though, more like clipped images and words. And you know Hybern is my father, then that tells you all you need to know about who I’m supposed to be.” You said, pushing your hand up to your forehead to rub the pain away.

“And who are you supposed to be?” This time a new voice entered the conversation. You looked up to see your mate staring at you. A few of his shadows gathered around the other shadow that had stayed with you while Azriel was out on his mission. You stood from the bed and ran over to your mate collapsing into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist and his shadows swarmed the two of you.

“My mother gave me up for one reason only. I didn’t understand why and it never made sense, not until Amarantha told me. She was told to hand me over to my father if she ever caught me but she went against his order because she wanted me for herself. She used to tell me that I’d be a very powerful seer one day. I guess because I could see images and words that it would one day be useful especially if I fell into the full ability of my power.”

“So what does that mean then?” Cassian proceeded to question.

“In the wrong hands I could one day help destroy the world.”

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Three

Summary:

Astarion surprises you by inviting you to his place... for a real date? The evening doesn't go as expected when you uncover the darkness in his past.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.4k Tags/Warnings: mentions of Astarion's past, vampire bites, blood drinking, blow job, p in v sex, fluff with a very small side of angst, Shadowheart being a bit of a manic pixie dream best friend

Since y'all are insistent on encouraging my worst tendencies, here, have the longest single thing I've ever written. I think about Professor Astarion at all waking (and sleeping at this point) hours. I have other things planned, I will eventually write something else, I promise. But also... this one is now becoming a full-fledged multi-chapter fic. I'm half-considering rewriting the first few chapters so it's in third-person? I don't know though, let me know what you think.

H1ghVoltage and Zaria were both invaluable betas for this one, I appreciate you both so much. And Zaria for always providing the most perfect screenshots at the drop of a hat. This literally would not exist without you.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“Excuse me? The one you’re always going on about?” Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her platinum bangs as she tucks her feet underneath her, holding up her wine glass so it doesn’t spill. The two of you met while moving into adjacent apartments a few years prior; it turned out you had both just been hired at the university, her at the Divinity School and you at the College of Arts and Sciences. Since then you’ve become fast friends, and you’re finally filling her in on all of the details of the whirlwind that has been the past few days. You hide your chagrin behind a sip of wine.

“Okay, listen, yes, but hear me out. He looks like this.” You hold out your phone and show her the English department faculty page.

“Oh. Oh,” she says in a low tone as her eyes study the screen. “Okay, you didn’t tell me that.” 

“I think I was in denial,” you whine as you drop your head onto the couch cushion. “I focused on how much of an asshole he is to distract me from how hot he is.”

“And now? Will you see him again?” She tosses your phone at your feet and you lift your gaze.

“I don’t know? He made a joke about having sex in my office but I don’t think he actually meant it.” You cast a sidelong glance at Shadowheart, trying to gauge her expression.

“Scandalous,” she smiles into the rim of her glass before taking a long sip. You pick up your phone, looking at his portrait. It looks like a candid photo but it’s very clearly composed. He’s sitting pitched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s looking off to the side and his brow is furrowed like he’s engaged in vigorous academic debate. It’s wildly pretentious.

You drop your phone again and angrily sip at your wine, letting the dry red flood over your tongue and coat the inside of your mouth. You notice Shadowheart eyeing you suspiciously.

“Do you want to?” she asks, and you put your glass onto the coffee table and curl your knees into your chest further.

“I… I don’t know? Like obviously the sex is good. Really good,” you add under your breath, and Shadowheart looks at you salaciously as your cheeks flush. “But whenever he says more than five words I want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Is that really how you feel, or have you just convinced yourself to feel that way?” she carefully asks. You glare at her, but you can't bring yourself to disagree. You drop your less-than-menacing expression and cover your face in your hands. You let out an exasperated sigh before suddenly gasping and looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Nine hells, did I tell you what else happened? At least one student knows. I saw her coming out of his office and she made some comment about ‘We all see how you look at him.’” You flop onto your side, burying your face in the couch cushion once again.

“Well, I suppose that answers your question, at least,” Shadowheart says reassuringly, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean if you like him enough that your students are noticing, then you have to pursue him. The worst that’ll happen is you’ll break up and you can go back to hating him.” She’s awfully nonchalant about having just described a literal nightmare.

“Excuse me, how is that possibly meant to make me feel better?” you gape at her.

“At least you get a good shagging out of the deal, right?” she grins at you, and her teeth are tinged purple from the wine. You kick your foot out at her.

“Man, we need to get you laid, don’t we?” you tease and she groans.

“Listen, you just told me that you got railed twice in three days, it’s not that good out here for most of us.” Now it’s her turn to cover her face and you laugh. You pick up your wine and stretch your legs out to nudge Shadowheart’s calf.

“Who knows, maybe there’s some hot chick in the English department that he can hook you up with.” She pushes your leg back and rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not, English academics are the worst.”

***

You have no idea what to expect when you inevitably run into Astarion the next day. You're tempted to just work from home since you don’t have any classes, but you have another damn season selection committee meeting that you can't miss, and you'd rather be around for students to drop in if they need to. 

You're on your way to the bathroom at the end of the day when you finally see him. You almost don't, at first, since you're looking down at your phone and you stop short of barrelling into him. You lock eyes and smile politely, then step to your left just as he steps to his right. You two share an awkward laugh just as it happens again in the opposite direction. After another few seconds of uncomfortable shuffling, he takes you by your shoulders and moves you to the side. You give him a thankful grin and quickly move past, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks and the way your arms tingle where he touched you.

You get to the bathroom and close the door behind you, leaning against it to brace yourself. Your stomach is roiling, though whether it was from the embarrassment, the insatiable lust, or something else entirely, you can't quite tell. You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cool water. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to will yourself into stoicism. It's a losing battle as the image of him having you bent over the sink pops into your mind. You shake your head, trying to think of something else, but that only makes it worse.

He’s pressed you up against the bathroom door and he's got your wrists pinned together above your head.

No, stop, you scold yourself. But the second you banish that image another one comes flooding in, your leg draped over his shoulder as he’s lightly sucking your clit with his fingers curled inside you.

You're dizzy with the mental image and you try to wrest it from your mind. You focus on the visual stimuli around you, the white tile, the fluorescent lights, the small blue stain beneath the soap dispenser. Eventually you find yourself back in your body and you massage your temples, trying to focus. 

Your head is still reeling slightly as you make your way back to your office. You unlock the door, completely unaware of his presence behind you until you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You yelp and in an instant he’s towering over you with your back up against the wall. 

“Almighty gods, Astarion,” you swear breathlessly, your heart pounding more from the scare than the proximity for once. The proximity doesn’t help, however, when he tilts your chin with his knuckle and smiles devilishly. 

“Come to my place, let me cook you dinner,” he purrs, and your breath quickens. But when his words finally break through the seductive tone, something in your brain stops.

“Wait, cook? Can you- do you even- how-” You still haven’t fully recovered and your mouth struggles to form words. His smile widens and you know he’s enjoying watching you splutter.

“What, do you think in all of my 350 years I've never bedded a mortal? Besides,” he trails his hand down your neck and strokes it gently with his thumb, sending a shiver down your spine, “I have other ways of getting my fill.”

You instinctively tilt your head for him, almost like you’re inviting him to bite right here and now. You manage to recoup your senses just enough to quip, “I’m sure you have plenty of experience luring cute mortals back to your place.”

You think you see his jaw tighten for a fraction of a second, but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“I’ll take it as a yes, then?” He pulls away and adjusts his glasses, his fingers sliding into his hair. You nod, not trusting the words to come out of your mouth. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and tucks it into the neckline of your shirt, a move that would have been unbearably corny coming from anyone else.

“See you then… lover.” He winks and glides out of the room as silently as he came in. You take a breath to steady yourself, a voice in the back of your head grumbling because of how much he has you wrapped around his finger. But admittedly, he seemed equally flustered when you almost plowed into him a few minutes ago.

Maybe not the best choice of words.

You pull the piece of paper out to see an address, date, and time. Tomorrow at 7. 

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

Now you just need to occupy yourself for the next 26 hours and not completely lose your nerve.

***

Occupying yourself isn’t terribly difficult with Shadowheart around. She keeps you busy all day with various errands, shopping, anything to keep you from spiraling.

Nevertheless, when it’s finally time to get dressed, you find yourself overthinking every tiny element. You stand frozen in front of your open underwear drawer trying to decide between the black lace or the pink satin.

“Shadowheeeaaaarrrrrtttt,” you call out to her in the other room. She pops her head in and gives you a pitying smile as she sees your anxiety-ridden face.

“Alright, sit, let me help,” she clinks her glass down on your dresser and nudges you until you’re sitting on your bed, fidgeting with the belt of your robe. 

“Black lace, it’s sexier,” she says sagely, tossing the panties at you and you slide them on under your robe. She pulls the plaid skirt out of the shopping bag and flings it onto the bed. 

“Put that on because we both agreed it’s adorable. It might be warm enough to go without tights?” she muses, then glances at you mischievously. “And since he has a track record of destroying those, maybe go with these instead.” She throws a pair of thigh highs at you and they hit you in the face. You wrinkle your nose.

“Careful,” you warn, but she ignores you. She floats over to your closet and sifts through the hangers. She pulls out a top, shifts her gaze between you and the garment a few times, then drops it on the floor. After another moment of searching, she pulls out a blousy cardigan, throwing it on the bed next to you.

“Don’t put that on yet, I’ll be right back.” She disappears before you can say anything. You’re left sitting on your bed in just your bra and skirt, and you rub your feet together with a restless energy.

Shadowheart returns just a few minutes later holding a lacy top that reads more as lingerie than an actual shirt. She returns your skeptical frown with a giant grin.

“Shade, I'm not wearing that,” you gripe, and she throws it in your face.

“Put it on before you judge,” she chides in response, and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, but it probably won't fit,” you say as you take off your bra and don the sheer v-neck cami. Other than straining around your chest slightly, the fit is fine. You put on the oversized cardigan over it and look at the full effect in your floor length mirror.

“See, told you,” she says smugly as you admire your reflection. And it's true, the underwear-as-outerwear really does bring the look from glorified schoolgirl cosplay into something a bit more refined. You give her a disgruntled sidelong glance but otherwise say nothing.

“Alright, get going. Go put your shoes on and chase that Ph D.” She pushes you out of your bedroom and towards the front door of your apartment. “Don't worry about me, I'll be here drinking your wine and masturbating all by myself while you get fucked through the end of the tenday.”

You slip on your black suede ankle boots and pleadingly look at Shadowheart one more time. You're still not convinced that this whole thing isn’t just a trip into the lion’s den.

“Go! I look forward to hearing all the gory details,” she says and plants a smooch on your cheek. She then smacks your ass as you head out the door, your yelp earning a satisfied smirk.

Sure enough, when you find yourself outside his apartment door, you can feel your cold feet catching up with you. You're about to take out your phone and text Shadowheart that you're going to leave when his door opens.

“Hello, beautiful,” he croons, and the syrup in his voice makes your mouth go dry. The sleeves of his white button down are rolled up and the first few buttons are undone, leaving his collarbone exposed. The black vest tapers in his waist and flows seamlessly into his well-tailored trousers. But the first thing you notice is his glasses.

“Your glasses are different,” you blurt, internally cursing your bluntness. His eyebrows pop up above the thicker plastic frames.

“Is that a problem?” he asks without a hint of malice in his voice. You blush and quickly shake your head.

“No I- I like them. They look good,” you stutter, looking away from the heat of his gaze. He smiles and takes your hand almost like he's leading you in a courtly dance, pulling you inside.

You look around his apartment, noticing the similarities to the hominess of his office. Big overfull bookshelves, warm-lit lamps dotted around the space, papers and other junk littered across every surface. It still surprises you that he doesn’t keep a tidy space, but at the same time you find it oddly charming.

You spot a hairless cat sitting on some mail on a table in the corner, delicately licking its paw. 

“Aww, who’s this?” You approach the cat, holding out your hand for it to sniff. It hisses in response and you take a step back.

“That's His Majesty, and you're best to respect his wishes,” Astarion calls from the kitchen.

“You named your cat His Majesty?” you ask, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat.

“No, he named himself His Majesty,” he replies, returning from the kitchen with a spoonful of risotto. “Taste,” he commands and you obediently open your mouth. The steaming food coats your tongue with a tangy, savory taste. You nod at him, barely trusting yourself to speak. It tastes incredible.

You turn back to His Majesty, and you notice an empty potion of animal speaking tipped on its side near him.

“Well I'll just admire such a handsome creature from a distance, then,” you say and His Majesty preens slightly. You can hear a hum of approval from Astarion as he retreats back into the kitchen.

This man is full of contradictions. Pristine, clean cut outward appearance with a cluttered, disorganized space. Cool and disaffected, but he loves his cat enough to use potions to communicate with him. He doesn't need to eat, but somehow he’s an incredible cook? You frown to yourself; it feels like something doesn't add up.

You start scanning one of the bookshelves, wondering what else you can learn about him. If there was an organizational system, it wasn't clear. 48 Laws of Power, History of Modern Sexuality, On the Genealogy of Morality, Gender Trouble… Ayn Rand sitting next to Octavia Butler?

What the fuck does he like?

“How is my collection of books holding up in your estimation?” Astarion’s sudden presence behind you makes you jump. He presses a wine glass into your hand and ghosts his lips across the crook of your neck, sending a swath of goosebumps down your arms.

“Did I tell you that you look absolutely delicious?” he murmurs into your skin, and you can already feel yourself getting lightheaded.

“You're one to talk,” you say on a dizzied exhale, and the breath from his laugh tickles your shoulder. He puts his hands on your waist, running a finger along the inside of the waistband of your skirt. He gives it a gentle tug and you unconsciously move in the direction he’s pulling.

“Come eat,” he says, guiding you to a table with one place setting. You sit, feeling awkward as he sits across from you, a wine glass in his hand.

“Are you just going to watch me eat?” you laugh nervously. He smiles into the glass, glancing at you above the rectangular frames sliding down his nose.

“Well if you're insistent, I can have my dinner as well.” He's not subtle about leering at your neck, sparking a flicker of heat in your belly. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the risotto, which somehow tastes even better than what he fed you before.

“So what do you experience when you have… food?” you ask, trying to shift his attention off you eating. He looks up as he thinks, and you find your gaze tracing his jawline.

“It’s… sour. Like it’s spoiled. But when something is cooked well, and with high quality ingredients, it’s more bearable.”

You look down at your food, the taste dancing across your palette. It's certainly better than something you could make for yourself. But you know so little about cooking techniques besides the basics that you don’t know what the difference would even be.

“And you're drinking wine. What does that taste like?” You try not to stare at the dark red liquid collecting on his lips, but it’s hard not to when his tongue darts out to lick it up.

“Alcohol has a higher threshold for quality, so it's generally more palatable. It usually means a higher budget for these things, but it's not as though I'm spending much on groceries.” He narrows his eyes at you, but you can't read his expression. 

“Well go on,” he continues, and you tilt your head in confusion. “Ask the question that you really want to ask.” Your heart starts beating a little faster and he smirks. Gods, you really hate that he can read you like that. It would be nice to keep at least one emotion private.

“What does blood taste like?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's clear that he hears you. His smile widens just enough to show off his fangs.

“It depends on the person,” he replies just as casually as if you had asked him about his taste in music. “Some are sweeter, like a nice rich port, while others have a bit of a burn, like whiskey. However, you?” He places his glass on the table and stands, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He crosses behind your chair and sweeps your hair to the side, lasciviously inhaling your scent behind your ear, eliciting a shiver.

“Yours is smooth with a hint of spice, like a fine aged brandy. But the finish has an addictive quality, like absinthe.” He nips lightly at the base of your neck without breaking skin.

“Such pretty words,” you exhale on a breathy moan, reaching a hand up behind you and running your fingers through his hair, pulling him toward you ever so slightly.

“Is that what you want?” he breathes into your ear, and you arch your back in your seat, panting. You can barely get out the “yes” before he sweeps you out of the chair and wraps your legs around his waist. He carries you into the kitchen, placing you on the counter and pressing your knees apart with his torso. You whine and the cool tile pressing into your ass reminds you of his touch. He slides one hand behind your head and the other around your waist, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

The initial pain surprises you every time, and your yelp is followed by his satisfied groan. You grip the back of his neck as he drinks, and you can feel the muscles working with each swallow. The feeling of your blood coursing through both of your bodies gets you high, knowing it's your blood that flushes his lips, cheeks, and ears. It's your blood flowing to his cock. The reminder of it makes you clench instinctively.

He pulls away just as you're teetering on the edge of passing out. He’s always panting after he feeds, his glasses slightly askew and a ravenous look in his eye that makes your mouth water. You pull him into a heated kiss, the metallic tang on his lips becoming a sensory reminder of the post-feeding bliss. 

You pull him closer with your feet, aching just to feel him pressed against you. Your hands scramble against his back, tugging at his collared shirt. He’s wearing far too many layers and he hasn’t even blessed you with the sight of his gorgeous sculpted chest yet. 

You slide a hand into the back of his collar, desperate for his skin, when your fingers brush over thick raised scar tissue. He pulls back faster than you do and your hands immediately go to cover your mouth.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t–” you begin but the pained look in his eye makes you stop short.

“No it's… it's fine. I've had those for a very long time. I… ah…” he stutters, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably, and you've never seen him so flummoxed.

“What are they from?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You're about to retract, tell him he doesn't need to answer, when he speaks quietly.

“They're from… the man who turned me. He kept me as a slave for 200 years. It’s something written in infernal, but I never found out what it said. And his death ensured I never would.” He speaks while looking down at the floor, his distant gaze indicating that he's somewhere else entirely.

“Astarion…” you breathe, and you cup his face in your hands. He smirks and snakes his arms around your waist; the mask is back on.

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says with a composed smile, “it was a very long time ago. I’m more concerned with tonight.” He moves to kiss your neck again but you put your hand against his chest to stop him.

“No- well, I mean yes to tonight, but… let me take care of you,” you say softly, and his careful expression slips again.

“I- well if that’s what you want.” He crinkles his brow, unsure of what to make of your proposal.

“Is it what you want?” You stroke his cheek, and it suddenly feels like this is an entirely different man standing in front of you. Hesitant, vulnerable, his usual swaggering confidence replaced with an uncertain tenderness that makes your heart pound in a way that feels wholly unfamiliar with him.

“I’m not sure,” he says, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” you offer quickly, “we can just fuck up against a wall or something.” The joke breaks the tension and he lets out a little giggle.

“What do you have in mind?” He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, and you ease off the counter and gently nudge him backwards toward his bedroom. He follows your lead, his doubtful look shifting into something of excitement and mischief. You guide him until the back of his knees hit the bed, and you push him to sit. 

You straddle his lap and run your fingers through his silvery curls. You kiss along his jawline and down his neck, placing a particularly tender kiss on his bite scar. He exhales heavily, sliding his hands up your thighs and resting them on your lower back.

You begin carefully unbuttoning his vest, followed by his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants. You slide it down his shoulders and onto the bed behind him, letting your warm hands run over the cool planes of his skin. His eyes follow your movements carefully and you take your time, tracing over every divet, every freckle and mole. You delight in his gasp when your fingers dance over his navel and down to his belt buckle.

You slip off his lap and drop between his legs, your hands continuing their journey along his hips. You plant increasingly hungry kisses above his waistband as you remove his belt and unzip his pants. He leans back on his hands as his breathing quickens, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You’re struck with the irony that the last time you were between Astarion’s legs like this it was to get revenge, to make him feel flustered and speechless the way he always does to you. Now you have him, flustered and speechless, and all you want is to worship him, make him feel warm and safe.

You slide his pants down under his ass, pulling them all the way off so he’s sitting on his bed fully nude. You run your lips along his inner thigh as you palm his growing erection. 

“Ah- wait,” he stammers and you immediately look up and pull back.

“Yes?” you ask, frozen by the fear that you’ve gone too far.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, nudging your cardigan off your shoulder. “All of you.”

It’s hard to believe that someone sitting naked in front of you can make you feel so exposed. You shiver as you drop the cardigan off your back, the sudden exposure to cool air making your nipples poke through the lacy top that Shadowheart gave you. You stand and he watches intently as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet. His expression gives little away, but his cock doesn’t. By the time you’ve removed the black panties, thigh highs, and cami, it stands at full attention. His knees squeeze around your legs and his arms pull you in close to him, pressing his nose against your belly. You card your fingers through his hair and down to his chin, tilting his head upwards.

“Better?” you breathe, and he nods, his eyes round and wide. You bend down to kiss him, slow and languid, before dropping to your knees again. When you pull away his mouth stays open, suspended in the shape of your kiss.

You settle between his knees and lightly kiss the head of his dick. You flick your gaze upward, monitoring his expression as you lazily run your fingers along his shaft. His glasses balance on the tip of his nose as he looks down at you, transfixed by your ministrations. You open your lips slightly, not quite taking him into your mouth yet as you softly cup his balls in your hand. You can hear his breath growing ragged, and he rewards you with an almost inaudible moan when your tongue finally wets his cock.

You wrap your lips around his tip, gently working the underside with your tongue. You run your hands up his thighs, squeezing his hips as they buck into you. You take more of him in, the warmth of your mouth contrasting with the cool, sensitive skin. He groans and tangles his fingers in your hair, a gesture that feels closer to petting than pulling.

You pull your mouth off his cock, wrapping your hand around the now slick shaft. You run your thumb along the slit, and his responding shutter makes you smile.

“Ah- enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, unable to keep his voice steady. You look up at him and drag your tongue along his entire length.

“I am, are you?” you hum, taking him back into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip. His leg quivers beside you, his toes curling inward.

“Mmph,” he grunts in assent, his hand twisting into your hair a little more. You slip your hands under his thighs and slide your mouth further down, letting him fill you up. His hips jerk, wanting to thrust into you, and you relax your jaw to let him. His little pants and disjointed moans send a jolt of heat down to your core, and you can feel yourself becoming wet with desire for him. 

You reach down and slip your middle finger between your slick folds, your groan vibrating into him. He hisses and pulls you off his cock and into a fierce kiss. The two of you tumble backwards onto the bed, your hair encircling you like a curtain. You press your bodies together, the smoldering heat spreading into a raging wildfire. He lines himself up with your entrance as you continue your desperate assault on his lips. He slides in with ease and your cry into his mouth accompanies him bottoming out. 

You push yourself up, bracing yourself on his chest as you grind into him. He plants his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your hair cascading down the length of your back. You increase the pace of your rolling hips, each breath growing more voiced as you approach your peak. 

“Oh gods, Astarion,” you babble, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He realizes you’re getting close, he sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him tight. He latches onto your nipple, flicking his tongue and sucking to send your pleasure to staggering heights. You arch your back into him as your arms hook over his shoulders, brushing your hands against those awful scars. Your hands splay across his back as if to say no one will ever hurt you like that again. 

You pull his face to yours so that you can taste his lips as you crash over the edge. The kiss is broken up by your cries and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grunts in time with his pulsing seed. You stay still and connected as the waves of pleasure ebb and flow and finally settle. The only noise left in the room is both of your heavy panting, and the telltale sound of just your heart pounding.

His hands slide down your back as you carefully pull yourself off him and you shiver as his now-soft cock falls out of you. You kneel next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, and he reaches over to stroke your jaw.

“Thank you,” he hums softly, and you press another sweet kiss to his neck. His scar.

After a moment you let out a contented sigh, then you say, “Well, I should probably gather my things and go, then.” You begin to stand to dress, but his hand closes around your wrist. You turn to him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“Or you could… stay. If you want.” He looks up at you through smudged and sweaty glasses and a smile tugs at your lips.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you watch him shift uncomfortably with a question that he’s not used to answering.

“I want…” he begins, hesitant. “I want to watch last year’s Globe production of Much Ado About Nothing with you. You said you like that one, right?” Your ears grow hot as you realize the extent to which he actually paid attention to you, even before you were sleeping together.

“I do, yeah. One of his best,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you repeat his words back to him. That interaction feels like it was eons ago, when in fact it was less than a tenday. 

He smirks, some of his confident charm seeping back into his demeanor. He scoots back on the bed until he’s resting against the headboard, and then he reaches out to you, inviting you to curl in next to him. You oblige, and he turns on the TV across from the bed, pulling up the pro-shot. You sink in next to him, appreciating how his chest cools your flushed cheek.

A single word gnaws at the back of your mind and you banish it quickly. 

No, that’s the oxytocin talking.

It’s just been a long time since you’ve slept with someone more than once.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the gnawing grows more insistent.

…

Fuck.

[counterfics]

DOWNSHIFTING BOUNDARIES PART 4.2 (FINAL)

♡ Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader SMAU ♡ Requested: Yes | you can send in your own requests here <3 ♡ Warnings: Cussing, Name calling, Gossiping, Potential misspellings, Rushed text dialogue? Female reader, Reader being a bad bitch (If more let me know) ♡ Desc: Rumors are not new to the f1 community, but when a f1 gossip page digs into a certain driver’s life and puts details of their private life on blast it starts to become an issue. With fans coming to their own conclusions and developing their own stories how will their relationship prevail through it? What new information about the driver and his personal relationship will be revealed to the public? Keeping boundaries up between you and your fans is quite a difficult task that Charles soon realizes. ♡ Notes: Please feel free to interact, and tell me what you think of the series! It really helps boost my confidence!! Also don’t feel shy to send asks or just talk to me i'm in need of mutuals and more ideas to create!! This is the final of the series, might add more mini blurbs here and there for it but no more big parts, so send in ideas for more things to write please!!! I was really happy with how I planned out part 3 and 4 in my notes honestly its pretty funny, if yall wanna see my thought process lmk LOL. I kinda feel like the ending was rushed so I apologize  ♡ Guide: f1 masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4.1| part 4.2 FINAL

♡ DO NOT STEAL, TRANSLATE, OR COPY MY WORK ONTO ANY OTHER PLATFORM !! ♡ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | Inbox | previous part | series masterlist ♡ sidenotes: I have made a forum that you can fill out to be added into taglists in general, you can still request to be added via asks, etc.. also thank you all for following the series so far it really means a lot to me! This finally got me back in the spirit to look forward to making things and writing again! Please reach out with ideas or just for a chat as I am lonely and need to keep myself occupied and busy! ♡ Taglist: [Some could'nt be tagged, you can fill out this form to be added to a general taglist if you would like since this is the final part of the series!] @stinkyjax @thef1diary @a-beaverhausen @ireadthensuetheauthors @dutifullyannoyingfox @ushygushybaby @janeholt3 @obsessedovermadrid @bokutos-babyowl @multi-fandom-fan221b @shiftermeance @mxdi0 @d3kstar @boiohboii @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @loloekie

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

miss oranje's faves: self-recs edition

i'm not used to praising myself bc i am my biggest hater, not my biggest fan, but i was tagged by the lovely @gothcsz to participate in @jolapeno 's 'tootathon' challenge, and i originally was going to pass up the opportunity butttt i suppose i'll *try* to say nice things about myself but i love the people in this fandom so i always enjoy participating in the fun, particularly something that promotes positivity when fandoms can be so toxic sometimes. honestly, i might need to steal this idea and make a positivity challenge for the resident evil fandom (which is what i primarily write for) because we are in need of good vibes…

*because my blog is multi-fandom, my masterlist is getting big overall, so i'm going to link my javi fics and my joel fics (along with my liztober '24 because there are a couple other pedro character fics on there)

i haven't been a part of the pedro pascal fandom for long, so my work here is limited, but i will share a few things:

it's never over (javi p x reader) - a two part fic (part one is from javi's perspective, part two is from reader's)

I really liked the concept for this fic and it was something that I wrote bits and pieces of for a while. I tried to change it to a single pov because i think i’m not someone who does well with pov switches like this, but it never captured the full scope of the story i wanted to tell when i tried to make it only javi’s or only reader’s. Ultimately, while i’d like to add onto this fic because i would like to expand upon reader’s pov, i like the story that i told in the end (i love angst). Maybe there will be a part 3…

2. and for dessert? (javi p x reader) - a short, mildly smutty story about javi and a housekeeper at a hotel

i hated this fic for a while because i got caught up in the numbers but i reread it last night and i was like, ‘okay, the concept is incredibly silly, but i guess in some way, that’s the point’. Anyway, when i looked back and stopped focusing on the numbers, i realized that i actually really like this fic, and probably wouldn’t change anything about it.

3. anniversary antics (joel x reader) - joel and his wife getting it on ... heavy breeding kink here

i wrote this in an hour or so. it just came to me. straight from the smutty brain (which is rare). this is one of the few fics of mine that i re-read and actually think 'oh this is hot'!

4. everything's bigger in texas (joel x reader) - for my liztober celebration! reader loses her virginity to joel and it's a sweet and short smut.

this is my second most popular tumblr post of all time (so it doesn’t need promo here), which is very funny because i almost didn't post this at all. i thought the size kink might be too basic and overdone but i also really wanted to write an 'older' reader as i have a tendency to write younger readers (which is partially because i am 24 and have never been older than 24 vs i have been 21 etc.) and i wanted to get away from the typical innocent virgin thing.

and also, we're gonna get personal here... i'm pretty sure i have vaginismus and so it's really really difficult to have sex. i've been shamed or questioned rather than reassured during situations where i struggle or am entirely unable to. reader in this fic was not specified to have vaginismus because i was trying to keep it light and smutty, flipping it around into a size kink, but it was a bit healing to write tbh. 

I’m pretty sure everyone has already been tagged but i’ll tag some of my mutuals just in case:

@clawdee @evolnoomym @baronessvonglitter @the-mandawhor1an

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A year in illustration (2024), Part four

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/07/great-kepplers-ghost/art-adjacent

Part one

Part two

Part three

The US Copyright Office frees the McFlurry

Figuring out how to illustrate the problems of DRM in McFlurry machines took some doing, but I'm super happy with how the HAL 9000-eyed poop emoji inside a spattered McFlurry cup (fair use of a McDonald's promo image) worked out.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

Keeping a suspense file gives you superpowers

Another Keppler classic: originally, this was FDR being offered a helping hand to cut through his paperwork. I added in one of the elephant heads I'd cropped out for election illustrations, and used it to represent "not forgetting."

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo

The housing crisis considered as an income crisis

The underlying image is another Keppler, showing death flamboyantly dicing with a millionaire. I added in an official (hence public domain) Reagan portrait, some monopoly houses, and a vintage aerial photo of Levittown, halftoned to disguise scaling artifacts.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/24/i-dream-of-gini/#mean-ole-mr-median

Retiring the US debt would retire the US dollar

More of Keppler's outstanding Uncle Sams! Add in a super-rezzed-up US $100 (all that intanglio looks great at high mag) and you've got an instantly arresting image.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/21/we-can-have-nice-things/#public-funds-not-taxpayer-dollars

Penguin Random House, AI, and writers' rights

The impatient guy makes another appearance in this WPA image of an adult literacy class; he's joined by another "business man" type, this one from a midcentury ad for a multi-level marketing scheme selling…business suits! The pupils' heads are all HAL 9000 eyes, natch, but don't miss all the little Easter Eggs, like the reeve and peasants in the frames on the walls.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/19/gander-sauce/#just-because-youre-on-their-side-it-doesnt-mean-theyre-on-your-side

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

You should be using an RSS reader

The guerrilla fighter is back, this time standing atop some mainframe equipment ganked from a Univac ad. The halftoned RSS logo in the background really works, especially with a partially blended GIMP "supernova" effect behind the rebel.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise

Dirty words are politically potent

I spent a bunch of time experimenting with different ways of making emphatic speech bubbles and it paid off here; that poop emoji's gawlix is in a good home. Halftoning the foreground element (the poop) works surprising well here. I should do more of that.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system

Lina Khan's future is the future of the Democratic Party – and America

Keppler's Uncle Sam Cop is back, along with another Keppler – a carpetbagger flying through the air after getting a kick in the pants. I got good use out of one of my Democratic Party donkeys here. The background is a half-tones WPA travel poster for Montana.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/11/democracys-antitrust-paradox/#there-will-be-an-out-and-out-brawl

Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked

I actually made this brick by hand: first I rescaled a box image until it had the right proportions, then I found a public domain texture that was the right kind of brick and used the perspective tool to put it over each face of the box. I told you public domain bricks are hard to find.

It was very satisfying overlaying all the elements of the Fisker car I cropped out onto the brick.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based

Prime's enshittified advertising

Nothing exceeds like excess! The flayed face with eyeballs comes from a 19th century book of French anatomical drawings. The calipers' handles just didn't look right (I referred to stills from Clockwork Orange to try and get 'em to work), but then I hit on the idea of using the "As Seen on TV" logo, which worked perfectly. The halftoned K-Tel ad-card background doesn't quite work, I think.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/03/mother-may-i/#minmax

"That Makes Me Smart"

This is actually two Kepplers; the original guy in the leg-hold trap is some lost-to-history politician embroiled in a lost-to-history scandal. But once I added (yet another!) of Keppler's Uncle Sam heads to his body (recoloring his coat and converting his trousers to red stripes), it became a perfect visual representation of America, trapped. The halftoned US flag is my favorite background yet.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

The far right grows through "disaster fantasies"

When it came to finding heavily armored and armed weirdos, I was spoilt for choice; same goes for grainy photos of vintage malls that look good after halftoning. Add in the goofy, grinning newsie's head and overlay his hat in camou, and it's perfect.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/24/mall-ninja-prophecy/#mano-a-mano

Boss politics antitrust

Finally, I got a chance to use Keppler's "Capital Controls the Senate!" I agonized over which corporate logos to use. Boss Tweed is back, with a Trump wig and MAGA hat.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/12/the-enemy-of-your-enemy/#is-your-enemy

Antiusurpation and the road to disenshittification

A diptych! Both sides' backgrounds come from Bosch's "Garden of Earthly Delights" – hell on the left, heaven on the right. The happy gas-jockey's old-fashioned ethyl pump divides the scene. The head-devouring dragon (with HAL 9000's eye) is a delightfully gory detail from Goltzius's 1183 painting of a couple guys having a hard time indeed.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/07/usurpers-helpmeets/#disreintermediation

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

Bluesky and enshittification

I know, canonically the sirens who tempted Ulysses were merfolk, not half-woman/half-birds, but all the merwoman versions have a ton of naked breasts in them, and frankly, Waterhouses's 1891 "Ulysses and the Sirens" just rips. It took a lot of fiddling with the perspective tool and the clone brush to swap their bodies for the Bluesky butterfly wings, but it still looked weird until I mapped in a kind of scaly, butterfly wing texture.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/02/ulysses-pact/#tie-yourself-to-a-federated-mast

Shifting $677m from the banks to the people, every year, forever

I replaced Moses parting the Red Sea with Keppler's Uncle Sam Cop, but something still wasn't right. Then I figured out how to turn the Red Sea into a giant, aquatic US $100 bill (loooove that intaglio!) and it was awesome.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Epilogue - Wonderful You

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: How would you sum up your love story?

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f) cunnilingus. Err, there is also some swearing and soppy stuff, too.

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. This is the little decorative bow I wanted to wrap up this fic up with. If you've seen the original film, you know there are vox pops between 'chapters' where couples tell their love stories. This is my tribute to/explanation of that in this AU. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Thank you again for reading this story, I hope you all enjoy this smidge of filth and humour! <3

When his phone lights up and vibrates on the pillow next to yours for the third time, the name HY flashing bright, you reluctantly realise you have to say something.

You slide one hand down under the covers to shake his shoulder lightly. “Ben…. Ben, your phone…” you stutter, not wanting to do anything to stop the wondrous sensations coursing through your body, but concern overrides your want for pleasure.

“I'm doing some of my best work here, you know…” he protests silkily, muffled against your body, curling his tongue around your clit in a way that makes your knees tremble and goosebumps break out over your limbs.

“Ngggg, fuck, I know you are, baby,” you moan, “but this is the third time it’s ringing, and now you’ve got a big text pop-up saying SOS…” you stumble out.

There is a rustling of sheets, and his handsome face appears, glistening with your arousal in the ray of Mediterranean sun that cuts across the bed. 

“Whoever is interrupting us better have a damn good reason; they all know this is our honeymoon,” he grumbles, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and crawling up over you, pecking a kiss onto the tip of your nose before reaching for his phone. As he does, it starts vibrating in his hand again.

“What?” he answers gruffly, in the way only siblings ever greet each other.

You watch as he pulls a variety of faces that make you giggle, pinned under him, his erection pressed distractingly into your left thigh.

“Hy…,” he groans after a bit, dropping his forehead onto your sternum. “How does any of this constitute an SOS?” he sighs wearily.

You can tell her answer is sarcastic by the strains of voice you hear from the phone as it's pressed against his ear.

“The answer, I'm sure, is yes, we will, and now, will you please leave us alone? We are busy…” he says pointedly. “...That's entirely none of your business,” he adds curtly after a beat.

You can easily surmise she guessed precisely what you are doing, and you chuckle. Benedict tilts his head up and shoots you a laden smirk that has you scraping your nails over the nape of his neck and into his luscious, thick hair, canting your body up into him and mewling softly as a hint.

“I'm hanging up now…” he warns, appearing to do just that as his little sister is midsentence.

“What does she want us to do?” you query, turning your head to kiss the flexing bicep that carries his weight as he tosses his phone aside.

He shuffles lower, his lips closing around your nipple, sucking insistently, making you arch under him and gasp.

“She wants us to appear in some documentary she is making,” he explains laconically, his fingers wrapping around the dip of your waist as his breath ghosts warm over the saliva he left, pursing his lips and blowing gently, watching your areola pucker under his attention.

You are rapidly losing the ability to give a shit in this moment but decide to get a little more information before you succumb. “What sort of documentary?”

“Couples talking to camera about their love story,” he hums, swapping to give your other breast the same wonderful treatment.

“She wants our story?” you frown distractedly, slightly non-plussed, running your fingertips along the play of his back muscles as he moves.

“Oh, come on darling, even you have to admit it reads like a film script,” he chuckles, rubbing the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast. “Twelve years, broken relationships, friends, not friends, both of us being idiots for entirely too long…” he trails off as he begins to wind his way back down your body, dropping hot kisses onto your diaphragm and belly.

“Oi,” you protest weakly, “I was not an idiot; I was merely cautious…”

“Sure, my love, a cautious idiot,” he amends, pushing your thighs open around his shoulders unseen under the sheets.

“Fair point…” you concede before crying out as he once again unfurls that magical tongue.

—

“How many couples are you interviewing for this?” you ask as Hyacinth fiddles with a microphone that will be out of shot on the coffee table in front of you.

It is three weeks later, and you are sitting on a two-seater sofa in a nondescript warehouse somewhere in Ealing—a digital camera and lots of bright lights trained on you. It all feels slightly unnerving, making you nervously pick at a tiny fleck of lint on your trousers.

“Oh, about ten or twelve, all sorts of ages and backgrounds,” she elucidates, obviously proud of what she is pulling together for her graduate film project.

“Why did you want us?” you inquire, genuinely intrigued.

“Well, your story is bloody fascinating, and I wanted to have at least one love story from my own family,” she explains. “I tried Kate and Anthony, but they bickered the whole time about what the truth of their story is. Then they started the tonsil tennis. It was too weird, even for me,” she shrugs.

“What do you want us to say?” Benedict checks, attempting to smooth his wayward curl of forehead hair that is always there, doing its own thing.

“Just go with the flow. Be truthful. Say whatever comes to mind; we can always go again,” she answers somewhat nebulously, rounding behind the camera as you exchange uncertain looks. “And ACTION!!” she calls suddenly.

“The first time we met, we hated each other,” Benedict begins.

“No,” you immediately interject, “you didn’t hate me; I hated you. The second time we met, you didn't even remember me!” you argue.

“I did, too! I remembered you! I approached you on the train,” he points out. “The third time we met, we became friends,” he smiles, wrapping a hand around your knee and shooting you a loving glance.

“We were friends for a long time,” you adjoin, nodding, before adding honestly, “Aaaaand then we weren't.” 

“And then we fell in love,” Benedict drawls, his tone laden with affection. “Three months later, and we are married!” he holds up his left hand, proudly displaying his shiny new wedding ring.

“It only took three months,” you nod in agreement, then pause, “well… twelve years and three months…”

“We had a really wonderful wedding,” he comments, turning and smiling crookedly at you.

“It really was,” you agree, grinning back.

“It was great. We had a band with salsa dancing,” he explains, leaning into you fractionally.

“Yes, lots of salsa dancing,” you concur, hooking your chin onto his shoulder as he turns his head fully toward you, you matching his little knowing smile, wanting nothing more than to draw him into a kiss.

“Ok… CUT!!” Hyacinth calls.

“What was wrong with that?” he checks, reluctantly peeling his gaze from you to his sister.

“Urgh, you are as bad as Anthony,” she rolls her eyes. “Let's try again, but this time, you know, maybe a bit more story and a shade less mushy?” she suggests.

“Mushy?” Benedict echoes, his brow knitting. “How am I supposed to talk about my wife, the love of my life, and not be ‘mushy’?” he appends with air quotes, as if what he just said casually is not the sweetest thing ever… and makes you want to mount him instantly.

“Y/n, stop eye-fucking my brother,” Hyacinth sighs.

It’s your turn to whip around to her and look indignant. “I am not!”

“Please…” she withers, arching a single eyebrow, and you slouch down a little, realising you are being entirely called out.

“Okay, fine. But tell him to stop doing the same,” you mumble.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” she answers, fiddling with one of the lamps trained on you. “Now okay from the top,” she says. “I liked it until you got to the salsa dancing bit. Please, let's not cover that; it's obviously a trigger topic for both of your hormones,” she eye rolls.

“What do you want us to talk about then?” he shrugs.

“Tell me more about the very first day you met,” she proposes, then circles her finger silently to show she’s recording again. 

“So it's the last day of university in the depths of Scotland, and both of us are driving to London...” he starts.

“Excuse me, I was driving my car to London; you very much hitched a ride,” you interrupt again.

“Please, it was your mum’s car. And you refused to give me a Malteser,” he disputes, pouting at you.

“Really? It's been twelve years. And still with the Malteser thing? You could have brought your own, you know,” you remonstrate logically.

“And you could have tried not to make me crash into a bus shelter, but here we are…,” he argues back, shooting you a sideways look that is all challenge and heat—it makes you want to strip him bare.

You can't help it; you lean in and capture his lips this time.

“For fuck’s sake, not these two as well,” Hyacinth mutters, head slumping into her hands. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

[spookiesmausoleum]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

I've been listening to the album nonstop so I wanted to put together some starters based on Vessel's lyrical talent - it's going to be a long one. Feel free to mix and match and add context around the quotes! Please remember to specify muse for multis and change pronouns as needed.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃

"I come as a blade, a sacred guardian, so keep me sharp and test my worth in blood."

"I'd turn my walls to gold to bring you home again."

"We act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake."

"You've got me in a chokehold."

"Even if it hurts me, even if I can't sleep, show me the way."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

"I've got a river running right into you - I've got a blood trail, red in the blue."

"Something you say or something you do is a taste of the Divine."

"You've got my body, flesh and bone; the sky above, the Earth below."

"Raise me up again, take me past the edge - I want to see the other side."

"Oh, and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on."

"'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man."

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄

"You won't ever have to talk about it, you'll never wanna talk about it."

"You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet."

"Never mind the death threats, parting at the door; we'd rather be six feet under than be lonely."

"You only drink the water when you think it's holy."

"You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave."

"You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need - But I am."

𝐀����𝐔𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀

"Well, my love is an animal call; cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls."

"These days I'm a circuit board: integrated hardware you cannot afford."

"Well, my past is a holy book - Between the pain and the way you look, I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook."

"Oh and I am done dancing to alarm bells; no wonder my ears are still ringing."

"I am done fighting off change."

𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄

"You have become the voice in my head."

"My life is torn, my bones, they bleed - My metaphors fall short in the end."

"Are you in pain like I am?"

"Will we remain stuck in the throat of Gods? Will the pain stop if we go deeper?"

"I want to go where nobody else will ever go."

"Follow me between the jaws of fate."

"I want to have you to myself for once."

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

"I know what you want from me."

"You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception … Setting you free; so you'll take what you want and leave."

"Who made you like this?"

"Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?"

"Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy. Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen."

"Won't you come and dance in the dark with me?"

"Show me what you are, I am desperate to know."

"Be the first to the feast, let's choke on the past."

"And I know what you want from me … You want the same as me."

"You make me wish I could disappear."

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?

"I caught you reading by the sunrise; you wandered from the path through the silence of the hillside."

"Are you really okay?"

"I saw it in your eyes; cutting deeper than the scars could run."

"I want to help you but I don't know how."

"I cannot fix your wounds this time."

"I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine."

"Please don't hurt yourself again."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

"Why are you never real?"

"I know that you will disappear just as I awake."

"Somewhere in the past, something was between you and I, my dear."

"No matter what I do this scar will never fade."

"I make the most of the turning tide."

"Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time you turn up in the reveries of my mind."

"The shifting states you follow me through are unrevealed."

"Just let me go or take me with you."

𝐃𝐘𝐖𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐌

"Do you pull at the chains? Or do you push into constant aching?"

"Do you wish that you loved me?"

"Is there something you give that you will never receive in return?"

"Why are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?"

"Can you ever forgive yourself?"

"I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could."

"My reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should."

"Maybe it's not that you conceal your feelings, it's just that they just don't exist"

"Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people?"

"Is it better to just not feel?"

"I've tried so hard to fix it all, but nothing seems to help, but I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

"Smile back at me, please."

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

"I almost became just a stoic statue, fit for nobody."

"The vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me."

"Just like the rain you cast the dust into nothing, and wash out the salt from my hands."

"Touch me again."

"Will you cleanse me with pleasure?"

"I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent."

"I'm tangled in your trance and I'm certain that you've got your hooks in me."

"I know that I am what I am; the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb."

"Maybe it's all just a game."

"When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name."

"Rain down on me."

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍

"I see you drifting past the fog, but no one told you where to go."

"We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans, but no one told me not to breathe."

"My, my, those eyes like fire - I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre."

"I'm a waking Hell and the Gods grow tired."

"Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire."

"Take me back to Eden."

"I need you to see me for what I have become."

"we've no idea what we've got until we lose it. And no amount of love will keep it around if we don't choose it."

"I don't know what's got its teeth in me but I'm about to bite back in anger."

"No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence."

𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐃

"I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning and a heavy head that won't stop turning."

"Give me one last ride on a sunset sky lane."

"I can feel the walls around me closing in."

"I hope to God you don't know this feeling."

"Yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry; a parallel I would lay my life on."

"If your wings won't find you Heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone."

"I need to leave this part of me behind."

"Do you still believe that nothing else matters?"

"For me: It's still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies that we used to lay beneath."

"We tangle endlessly like lovers entwined."

"You will not be mine."

"The Night Belongs to You."

[ttintricacies]

Can’t believe I’m about to make a linguistics-adjacent post about the hippo that’s gone viral in my country but oh well: if you want to shorten Moo-Deng’s name, in Thai we would most likely say “Deng”and not “Moo”.

I don’t want to assert that it’s for prosodic reasons only because there may be other parameters I just haven’t thought of yet but yeah.

That being said, I don’t think Thai people ever shorten her name(?), maybe it’s our affinity for having multi-syllabic names (e.g. we add honorifics or terms of endearment onto one-syllable nicknames).

For example, even if you were to shorten Moo-Deng, we’d add things like น้อง (nong) or อี (ee, though this would not be commonly used since it’s technically vulgar, but some guardians often use it to refer to their kids). This would make her Nong-Deng which would translate to “little sister Deng” which I think is adorable.

[coffeeadict61]

Humans Are Weird: Auditory Processing Disorder

Report # 306

Topic: Auditory Processing Disorder

APD: disorder of the auditory (hearing) system that causes a disruption in the way that an individual's brain understands what they are hearing.

Four days ago I was doing my monthly meeting with the electrical department, receiving updates on our monthly usage, needed parts, and checking up on general morale. (The transcript of that meeting is already turned in.) After the meeting we had refreshments and I discovered Lucy (previously mentioned in report #286) pouting in a corner. I inquired what was bothering her. She said, "The ship's head medic just diagnosed me with APD but he wasn't trained to treat it." I asked for further information on the condition. She listed several of her personal symptoms. "It means I don't always catch what people say. It feels like my brain doesn't want to listen. In one ear and out the other making me look stupid to however I talk to. It's connected to my misophonia, and the fact I was born really premature."

I was unsure how to comfort her so I made no effort. This seemed to work for Lucy kept speaking.

"And what's worse is there's nothing I can do! We don't have a speech therapist aboard or even any research materials! Its starting to affect my work performance. On top of decoding, hypersensitivity, and prosodic problems, I have integration issues which mean its really hard for me to focus on what people are saying when I'm doing something. Which freaking sucks when you're part of a team!" I had no clue what she was really talking about but gave her a hug (human gesture of enveloping one in your arms as a sign of comfort or safety), and she apologized for "venting" to me.

She then spoke on how her crew mates just thought she was "slow" or wasn't good at her job. They questioned if she was capable because she would follow directions incorrectly and she was worried she'd be replaced with someone "less problematic". I tried to assure her that I would help anyway I could on her behalf. Never again will I doubt a human's sincerity.

After some of my own personal research I have made a list of the different types and their definitions for your education on the subject:

Hypersensitivity – Hypersensitivity to sound is often diagnosed as misophonia or hyperacusis. Misophonia is when people have adverse physical reactions to sounds, such as becoming nauseated by the sound of chewing or slurping. Hyperacusis, on the other hand, is characterized by a sensitivity to sounds. For some, this means that white noise can be deafening, even causing physical pain.

Decoding – Decoding difficulties involve a lack of figuring out words that are spoken. They hear the sounds, but their brains do not process them as words.

Integration – Integration applies to those who struggle to do multiple things while listening. Such multi-tasking may be writing notes and listening, or having conversations while typing an email.

Prosodic – Prosodic refers to people who have trouble with tone, inflection, and implied meaning. A question and exclamation are processed identically in their brains. Their speech is also often monotone.

Organizational – Finally, organizational, or output, is often characterized by not recalling information in a specific order or having difficulty with noisy situations.

Honestly, Humans are so diverse and unpredictable. To think that different "problems" or " abnormalities " within their mind or body can lead to even more similar issues astounds me. They are so intricate in a way my species has never been. Despite the struggles that their disorders, and conditions being, I think it's strangely beautiful. Maybe that's just me, but I have a new appreciation for them.

I am requesting the presence of a speech therapist, whether physically or digitally, to be readily available to our crew. We must also add APD onto our medics research requirements. It is not an overly complicated subject to be fluent in. I also request that Lucy's diagnoses be added to her list of wrongful termination along with her gender, age, and race. No one should feel their position is at risk because of a disorder or disability. I also request that a written copy of daily instruction be printed for her if necessary. She is one of our best electricians and I mean to keep her employed here as long as she wants.

Human Observer #5743

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 5: Spooky parties - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, alcohol, pretty much anything messy at parties. A little bit of nsfw but nothing severe

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Spooky parties with them

Notes: I have no hopes for my own doing of these things.

Jason Voorhees: Doesn’t really like parties, but is always dragged to them by you. Loves Halloween ones though, so there’s not much pouting coming from you. He’d let you dress him up to match costumes with him. Jason keeps himself occupied at the sweets table while you’re around saying hi to everyone. Terribly shy when you would introduce him to your friends, but would try to smile with a mouthful of cupcakes. He kind of becomes a favorite at the parties, participating in games from time to time. 

Michael Myers: Also not a fan of parties, but would follow you to them. It’s usually how it goes though, everywhere. He kind of just sulks everywhere behind you, turning his head to stare at whoever is staring at you both. Everyone tries to avoid you two the most they can, but you seem to be too fun to be around, so you’re still invited. You are at least, you and your plus one. After all, Michael does add onto the spooky aura of the party though. The plus side is that if anyone is causing trouble at the party, Michael easily takes up the security roll.

Tiffany Valentine: LOVES Halloween/spooky parties. Always wants to dress up for them and is even willing to dress you up as well. Tiffany always wants to match with you, whatever you want to be, whatever she wants to be, you always come down to an agreement. The more parties there are, the more costumes/outfits you both can put together. Getting ready is one of Tiffany’s most favorite activities. She’s so fun at the party, drinking, singing and keeping her arms around you, she’s definitely a crowd favorite.

Billy Loomis: Also kind of loves Halloween parties, he’d go to every single one he knows is available, always dragging you with him of course. Billy would drag you to every house party, drinking and smoking with you by his side. Sometimes things get a little too hot between you two. Billy would drag you into a room with him “just to make out” but most of the time it escalates. Either way, parties can be fun with Billy, though if you’re always needy for his attention, perhaps parties wouldn’t be so fun. Billy would keep you on his lap, but maybe pay more attention to the current topic at hand.

Stu Macher: Also loves Halloween parties and becomes a crowd favorite within time. Sometimes he even hosts the parties, bringing in all kinds of alcohol, allowing all sorts of drugs and whatever kept the party going and happy. Sometimes Stu would be a little blind to the way things work, not able to pick up directly on your discomfort. Still, Stu is always drunk, always singing at the top of his lungs and dancing lazily across the room. You’ll never be bored with him and his foolery often at times. 

Patrick Bateman: Kind of a fan of parties, just maybe not the house ones. His coworkers would host events celebrating the Halloween vibe to the atmosphere. You’d insist on going in costumes, but Patrick wouldn’t be exactly too thrilled about the idea. Shockingly though, he manages to get some blood splatter on his coat to which then he decided to just keep it, then go to your room telling you to “fix it” but then deciding the would be the perfect costume and no matter what you say,  he thinks this would be the best costume. To those who love to talk, Patrick definitely would be a favorite to them.

Leatherface: Also has fun at the party like Jason, he’s very innocent with what he likes and what he tends to enjoy. More childlike than anything; he is prone to being timid as much as possible, but when he discovers the sweet, he becomes a child. There’s chocolate all over his lips and fingertips, he looks at you with a mouthful, smiling and waving from afar. Bubba doesn’t talk to anyone, instead just keeps his head down and waits for you to come back from your karaoke session.

Harley Quinn: The queen of Halloween parties, can always whip up the best last minute Halloween costumes. It’s settled that no Halloween party is complete without the one and only Harley Quinn. She kind of overshadows you, but when does she never? Still, she always does her best to keep you included, bringing you on stage with her or to the center if you were having a dancing session or a karaoke session. Harley would for sure wear you down to the bone during these nights. Not to mention, she would be the type to go party to party to party back to back, so it’s best you keep up!

Poison Ivy: Not entirely fond of any kind of party. Ivy would gather socially with her beloved villainous friends, but nothing too extreme. Still, if you really wanted to go, she wouldn’t fight you. She’d throw on her best red silk dress and big Hollywood curls, elegant as always, even if it was a costume party. “I’m a rose-” She’d explain as she would click on her last earring, fixing her dress as she’d turn to you. Ivy would drink a glass of wine or whiskey while you dance along or sing along, admiring you from a far, just as when she first met you.

Bruce Wayne: This man was notorious for parties, though not the kind you were going to in order to actually enjoy yourself and have fun. While he would prefer to keep the night to yourselves, if you insisted, he’d deliver. Bruce rather be by your side more than anything, plus seeing you in costume could be fun. No matter where you two would end up, Bruce’s hands and eyes just can’t stay away from you. Not in a sexual or possessive manner but in a way where he truly is enjoying himself.

Jason Todd: Similar to Bruce, though he’d rather keep the party between you two, Jason would love to go out with you. Halloween parties downtown at different bars and house parties of friends of his would be such a great time. You knew you could truly have fun and let your guard down around Jason. Lots of watching you dance, drinking and letting loose to loud music and neon lights. Wouldn’t leave you for a second, even if you had to take a piss.

Billy Hargrove: So excited for any kind of party, ever. Not the kind to dress up though, but would encourage you to if you wanted. “No Billy, I can’t go dressed up if you don’t.” You’d shy away as you took off the bunny ears, but he’d insist you looked cute in a bunny costume, kissing your cheek and pushing your hair behind your ear. Whether you wanted to keep your costume or not, he wouldn’t mind, after all, most of the time, he’d want to go home early with you. Billy kind of grew out of parties when he fell in love with you.

Steve Harrington: Loved all kinds of parties before, would even host half of them, but it’s no fun when he keeps getting pulled away from you or interrupted by others while he’s with you. Of course there would be times where you two could hide, but then what’s the point of even hosting a party? Like Billy when he fell in love with you, Steve also kind of grew out of parties. Still, one or two Halloween themed parties wouldn’t kill you two, he does agree to match your costume after all. Maybe nothing too out there for him, but anything subtle, he’d be down for. And of course, all his attention is on you throughout the whole night.

Steve Rogers: Also not the biggest fan of parties, big ones at least, but he would be willing to go if all his teammates were going or if you insisted on going with him. You wouldn’t have to beg, the second time he’d bring it up, he wouldn’t hesitate. Also would go dressed up with you if you wanted. Steve’s shoulders would kind of drop when he’d see the costumes you picked out for you both. Your immediate pout would change his mind instantly. “No no, sweetheart, I love it. I’ll wear it! It just looks a little uncomfortable, but anything for you, you know that.” Steve wouldn’t stray away from you once, talking with his teammates and mingling with others as he’d drink and have his arm around you. If you wanted to sing or dance, there he went with you.

Bucky Barnes: Not a huge fan of parties either, the only reason he’d go at all is because you wanted to go or Steve did. He’d be a little bit more reserved with costumes, but he’d accommodate with you. Bucky would even give you suggestions, helping you put outfits together and even helps you with your makeup before the party. Like Ivy, he stays in the back, watching you from afar, drinking and with eyes locked on you and only you. Bucky would agree to taking pictures with you to add to your scrapbook and they’re probably the cutest ones from all year.

Wanda Maximoff: Depending on her social mood would depend on how she would react at the party and how much she’d dress up. Of course Wanda would match you, being genderbent versions of certain costumes to match the couple costumes. Without question would help you with your makeup. Her favorite couples costume would be the vampires, sultry and fun, intimidating but so enticing. No matter her mood, she’d dance with you if you wanted, letting you take pictures of you both. LOTS of bathroom pictures and overall she reflects with you on how much fun she actually had that night.

Loki Laufeyson: You’d have to be the one to invite him to even have him consider going to any party, spooky party or not. Either way, like Wanda, he’d help you with your makeup, wiping off the excess and making sure your eyeliner is sharp and ready to strike fear into the hearts of those around you. For sure would go as the vampire couple as well or even a Victorian ghost costume. Hands down you both would be the most stunning at the party, which doesn’t help Loki’s ego at all. He’d watch you from afar, not really one to be dancing too much, maybe he’d join you for a dance or two, but would rather watch you sing in amusement and awe.

Cloud Strife: Not another event you’re dragging him to again. Still, this kind of seems a little bit more fun to him than anything else you’ve made him do before. Doesn’t really want to dress up in any costume. MAYBE will go as the matrix with you but that’s about all. Cloud would be too shy for anyone that would come up to him trying to talk to him, instead looking for you. You said you were only going to be gone a couple of minutes. Still, would drink with you, keep himself from getting drunk so he could keep an eye on you. After all he was the one taking you home.

Aerith Gainsborough: Has honestly never been to a Halloween party before, but is super interested in them. Kind of excited to dress up for it too. She’d go as a fairy or an elf of some sort and would love for you to match with her. You two would hands down win the cutest couples costume. Aerith would have so much fun meeting new people and singing and dancing with them as well as her best friends that she already knew. Pictures of this night would be perfect to keep them in a scrapbook for memories. Honestly kind of the most fun to go to a Halloween party with.

Sebastian Michaelis: It’s kind of routine to have the Phantomhive household either host or participate in some sort of Halloween party themselves. Even if you insisted Sebastian would refrain from dressing up in costume at the own household. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m still the butler and dressing up as a rabbit would not seem appropriate-” Only to be interrupted by Ciel who would ask him to follow through with your request. Well, there goes that.

Spencer Reid: Always down for any kind of Halloween party, anywhere. Him and Penelope would be the first ones in, planning out costumes, what they were going to bring, there would be too much excitement for one person to handle. Of course Spencer would constantly brainstorm what costumes you two were going to wear, no matter how ridiculous it may seem for others, it would be thrilling for him. Spencer always wants to appreciate the holiday as much as possible and that includes Halloween parties. Would do drunk karaoke and swing around as his excuse for dancing. Lots of videos of these moments would keep his embarrassment immortal.

[starlost-andfound]

skz x desi reader headcanons

A.N: highly unedited, it's just me yapping - also! if you have anything you want to add on, pls share! let's all be delulu together hehe

tagging: @ihrtlino (i'm sorry it took so long for me to write this :') <3)

Chan

Your parents would absolutely LOVE him, and would probably invite him to come over for Diwali - bonus: Chan in a kurta - actually, scratch that - any of the members in a kurta.

Would insist he can handle the spice of your mom’s curries but the extremely red tint on his ears and face says otherwise. He absolutely inhales the lassi. 

Would call you a name of endearment in your mother tongue - THERE WAS AN AUTHOR HERE AND I WILL TAG THEM @beebee18 PLS GO READ THIS FIC BECAUSE IT’S THIS VERY ONE THAT CAUSED MY WHOLE SKZ X DESI READER BRAIN ROT - to have Chan call you meri jaan UGH

Would try and learn your language and would probably grasp common phrases like “I’m hungry” or “I love you”. I can see him sneaking up on you when you’re out and about the house, sneaking up behind you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder “bukh lagi hain” (i’m hungry)

Would ask you to marry him in your mother tongue.

Would cry at your wedding when you’re doing the rounds around the fire and saying your vows.

Minho

Would learn bollywood style dancing like bollywood hip hop or something similar to impress you.

Lee Know singing a Bollywood ballad. That’s it. That’s the thought,

Lee Know is really good at learning languages and I feel like he would learn your mother tongue to speak with you or your family. You’re waiting for your mother to open the door when you take him to meet your parents, and you’re assuring him you’ll translate everything they say. Then, when the door opens he immediately greets your mother fluently. 

Would cook your favourite traditional dish when you’re feeling homesick. He would text your mom, asking for the recipe before putting together the craziest thali (a/n: I’ve been writing about food so much I’m craving all of this now).

Tries to decorate the house for Diwali but doesn’t quite get how to do the rangoli so he calls Hyunjin for help. Hyunjin walks into your house to see Lee Know with multi-colored rangoli powder smudged onto his face and all over his hands. You come back to the house to find Lee Know chasing Hyunjin with a handful of tissues

Puts coconut oil in your hair and braids it for you. Doesn’t even say anything about it. One day you’re just doing it and he pops into the bathroom, takes the oil from your hands and does it. Massages it into your scalp and braids your hair. Then he just washes his hands and leaves. He does it for you every time now. Gets mad the one time when you decide to do it on your own and he does that angry little sigh. Doesn’t speak to you until you cuddle him and promise you’ll let him do it from now on.

Changbin 

You can not convince me this man would not listen to rap music in your mother tongue. Would probably have a favourite rapper. I feel like generally speaking he would be very interested in Bollywood music as a genre and style of music. He would be inspired to maybe include some of those elements like the instrument style etc in his own music.

Would have your contact name saved as a name of endearment in your mother tongue.

Would dance with you at weddings or events.

Would secretly take classes in your mother tongue so he could speak with you. You’d find out one day when you come back home and he’s reciting a speech about how much he loves you.

You introduce him to biryani for the first time and it’s officially his favourite thing. Catch him eating biryani in the dressing rooms in SKZ-Talker

Hyunjin

Would learn how to do mehendi just so he could do yours. I can see him making really beautiful designs of flowers in great detail.

If you know any kind of classical bollywood dances I feel like he would really want to learn the basics so he could dance with you.Bonus: When you get your mehendi done for your wedding, he would probably tear up when he finds his initials in the designs.

Would love watching the romantic bollywood movies - would probably cry WATERFALLS and deny it - but later he posts a painting of a scene from the movie on his instagram. Would slow dance to the romantic songs with you.

Would paint or photograph you in traditional clothing

Would buy you pretty jhumkas and bangles at the market. You find out later that they absolutely ripped him off his money for those bangles but it’s okay because he loves you. That man would be so in love with you he probably build a whole palace in your name. 

Han 

Would learn an Arjit Singh song for you on the guitar (a/n: just had a thought about this - is arjit singh like the hozier of bollywood??). Would send full covers to you first, before posting a small snippet of it onto Instagram. He might upload a voice message of him singing it on Bubble for Stays but you know it’s all for you.

Would watch bollywood shows and movies with you - probably (definitely) bawls his eyes out when you watch Kuch Kuch Hota Hai or KKKG.

Gets heavily invested in any kind of Bollywood tea, his jaw drops and gasps out loud when his favorite celebrity couple breaks up “they broke up?!”

Randomly blurts out dialogues from famous desi movies

Felix 

Judging by the amount of chicken this man eats on mukbang lives (r.i.p bbokari’s cousins), he would LOVE butter chicken and naan. You can’t convince me otherwise because I know I’m right.

Would learn how to bake a traditional sweet and surprise you with it / nearly burns down the kitchen in the process and decides to just order a box of your favourite sweets. I get the feeling Felix would absolutely LOVE Indian sweets like gulab jamun or jalebi or ladoo. 

Would 100000% learn your mother tongue.

Would want to do his mehendi with you too - matching designs!!!

Holi! I can see Felix as someone who would really enjoy Holi. He would probably get really sneaky with it and innocently approach you before projectile launching a handful of a mix of colours at you (but that’s only payback because you did the same earlier).

Would surprise you with a trip to your home country when you’re feeling a little homesick.

Seungmin 

This man would absolutely learn a ballad or a romantic song for you, would probably learn many just to sing to you - he would most definitely not tell you he’s learning any of these songs until one karaoke night he just pulls out the mic and starts belting it out.

Would pretend to act uninterested when you start watching a desi show or movie (does the uninterested dad pose standing in the living room with his hands on his hips before gradually moving to sit down) but then he ends up being the one to start crying or to start yelling at the television screen. Gets upset when you keep getting advertisement breaks on the screen, is absolutely torn apart when he realises he needs to wait a whole week to find out what happens.

Would learn how to say i love you in your language. I feel like Seungmin is quite soft spoken in the way he expresses love, but he does it strongly. You’d be sitting on the couch together watching a Bollywood series and one of the character’s confesses to the other and he turns to you to do the same.

When you don’t mention important dates of celebrations and festivals, he surprises you by bringing it up first. Probably surprises you with a box of sweets. “What are these for?” “It’s Diwali today isn’t it?!”

Jeongin 

I feel like, as someone who sings Trot, Jeongin would really love singing classic Bollywood songs.

Would also get very invested in the shows and movies you watch. This man would not move a muscle from start to finish. Imagine if he watched Bahubali back when it released and at the end of the first movie he’s dying to know what happens and you have to break it to him that he's going to have to wait years until the next movie comes out.

I feel like he’d be really into the Bollywood action/superhero movies like he would really enjoy the Dhoom movie series or Don or Krrish. You’d catch him humming one of the songs from the movies or imitating SRK’s iconic lines from the movie. 

He would really love your traditional food and would go out of his way to find authentic restaurants making this food to take you out on a date there - and then you’d have to talk him through the whole menu and what each dish has.