#'women hate how little it takes to make us happy' image but instead of a computer its just a sketchbook

[funshinebf]

idk what time theyre getting home though so i dont know when i should wake up to make sure i finish tidying everything up before theyre back... i dont want them to see my sweater and vape just laying around out there for who knows how long

[ariichive]

trial period

various haikyuu

in which he finds an opportunity in your boyfriend's errors. suna, osamu, iwaizumi, and akaashi fem reader | cursing | grumpy volleyball players | jealousy | they see their chance and take it | toxic relationships | akaashi's is a bit angsty but its still sweet, promise | i used kenji as a name for readers bf

suna

suna felt like shit; everything was pissing him off today. his coach was harder on him, he forgot his water bottle, and the heat was terrible. he was convinced nothing could make his day worse.

well that's what he thought until his phone went off.

'(name): is this a good gift set for guys?'

image sent.

'(name): or should I get him a new video game??? thx for ur help rinnie :)'

yeah, his day could definitely get worse.

he stared at your text messages, not even wanting to respond. there was nothing more humiliating than his crush of almost a year texting him about another guy. in all honest, he didn't give a fuck about that sorry excuse of a man that you called your boyfriend.

maybe he was biased, but he honestly didn't care. how could perfect, beautiful you settle for a man who forgot your birthday 3 months ago?

shit just didn’t make sense; now here you are, gift shopping for his birthday. if it were up to suna, he’d make sure you didn’t spend a penny on the man’s birthday. but if things were so easy, he’d gave you in his arms after a long day.

shaking his head, suna typed up a quick, dry response. it wasn’t his intention to come off as an asshole, but at the same time, it kinda was. maybe you’d finally get the hint.

suna ignored the buzzing of his phone as he walked into his local grocery store, he'll answer after buying a few snacks for his apartment. he didn't like ignoring your messages, but he also didn't like your boyfriend.

he saw a familiar, hated haircut as he walked mindlessly through the aisles. squinting his eyes, he made sure his eyes weren't deceiving him; but why was he in the women's care section?

sure, there was a small possibility of him buying you something. however, from what he's heard, your boyfriend has never given you flowers. he walked a little closer, not worried about being recognized because the two had only ever briefly met.

suna decided to pull out his phone; he felt something in his gut screaming at him.

suna quickly skimmed over your texts of you asking which video game to buy him. he facetimed you, making sure his headphones were connected.

"you asshole, you're lucky i'm still at the store," your voice spoke beautifully into his ears (he was ignoring your rude remarks). "yeah yeah, lemme see the video game options."

suna heard you sigh before you flipped the facetime camera, showing the huge display of video games.

he didn't look back at his phone, instead looking at your boyfriend- well it wasn't just your boyfriend anymore, he had a girl looking at him with a big smile on her face.

looking a bit closer, he saw the cause of her happiness. in her hands, she was holding two packages of pregnancy tests, different brands.

now, suna didn't want to assume anything; that could be a sister or a cousin. but his suspicions were only confirmed when she gave a big kiss on his lips.

"you're not even looking- are you at the store?" you said after seeing the background of his facetime screen. you watched as he looked lost in thought, standing in front of a shelf of pads. "why are you in the women's section? actually, while you're there can you grab me more..." when you noticed he wasn't listening, you got a bit worried. "rin?"

"sorry, i'm here. hey, i actually have something to show you, don't get mad.. at least not at me, alright?" you stared confused as he flipped the camera to his back one. now everything he was seeing, you were too.

"oh is that kenji? he said he would be at the.." you lost your train of thought as you witnessed kenji wrap an arm around a girl he was with, placing a small kiss on her head.

you could only stay silent as you watched the two happily walk away.

suna felt like an asshole that he was the one to reveal this to you, but it would've been worse if he hadn't.

"o-oh," you were the first to break the silence. "want me to go say something to him? you know i will." suna's own heart broke a little as he heard the cracking of your voice. "no, it's fine. uhh," you took a quick pause in your sentence, contemplating your words carefully, "do you think, you could come over for a little?"

suna glanced down at his screen, seeing you were already out of the video game shack and into the freshness of the outside air.

"yeah, i'll be there soon. be careful going home okay?"

"okay, bye suna."

no nickname or first name, you were definitely upset.

suna sighed as he continued his grocery shopping; making sure not to get anything refrigerated as he didn't know how long he was going to be at your place.

(he grabbed a few of your favorite snacks and a weird-looking stuffed animal he had a feeling you'd like)

after paying and making a mental note to come back later for milk, he went on his way to your place.

he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he got to your apartment, but nothing prepared him for seeing you open your door with sad eyes and a twitching lip; sad but not wanting to show.

"hey," you greeted him with a nod which he reciprocated, holding up his grocery bags. "we can watch that stupid reality show you like," suna stretched as he got comfortable in your living room.

"it's not stupid you just don't understand it."

and when the show was just white noise in the background as he listened to you complain about your now ex-boyfriend was turned into you falling asleep, using the cheap plush he bought you as a pillow; he felt like he belonged there with you.

even as your phone blew up with messages from your ex, suna stayed focused on you.

(he blocked the number).

osamu

you stared at the delivered message you sent to your boyfriend 6 hours ago, only growing more irritated as time went by. the two of you had a date planned for later tonight at a fancy restaurant; one he insisted on going to and you agreed eagerly.

you had already gotten all dolled up, and even though you didn't want to go on the date originally, you did do your best to get ready, and it was a bit disappointing to not go out now.

time was only getting closer, and there was still no response from your boyfriend. over the past week, you felt distant from him, hence your quick agreement to this date.

now, he wasn't even answering his phone. even after ringing kenji multiple times and going straight to voicemail, you still had hope. there was still an hour left until the agreed meet-up time, still some time for him to answer.

you did a few small room chores to kill the time, only for your phone to not go off even once. there were still 20 minutes until 6pm, and you decided that this date wasn't going to happen.

now, you were sad and hungry. getting up, you looked through your fridge and cabinets only to find nothing.

about to give up all hope, your phone dinged from the counter. shooting up immediately, you grabbed your eagerly; only to feel slight disappointment when it was your friend sending you a recently opened food place, 'Onigiri Miya'.

something was pulling you towards the place (maybe your stomach); sending your friend a quick text back, you decided to stop by for dinner. putting on more comfortable clothes and deciding to head out, still no text from your boyfriend.

the place was located in a good area and it wasn't a far walk from your own home. you could see yourself coming here more often. the smell of freshly cooked meals could be smelled from outside the restaurant doors. the place was rather empty, considering it was a bit later in the evening.

you sat down at the counter, glancing over the menu. there was an older lady next to you, who had a big smile on her face as she enjoyed her food. the scene caused a small smile to grace your face. you looked around a little more, noticing everyone had a smile on their face as they enjoyed their food.

this place felt like home.

"welcome to onigiri miya. do ya need more time lookin' at the menu?"

a mans voice broke you out of your trance. looking up, you seen a broad male with dark hair in the, what you assumed, was the official uniform of the restaurant.

"hello," you give him a polite smile, "could i get a minced tuna and spring onion rice ball?" you watched the man’s eyes widen, before a small smile adorned his pretty face.

“gotcha, that’s what my brother orders,” he held a bit of fondness in his voice as he recalled his brother. you giggle slightly, “your brother must have good taste.”

“s’alright. my taste has always been better,” he said as he gave you a quick look over, making you sit up a bit straighter. “really? then what do you recommend?” you decided to play along a little, almost forgetting about the events from earlier.

"stop by tomorrow, we could talk about it more."

and when a number was jotted down on the receipt, you felt a new chapter unfolding in your life.

iwaizumi

iwaizumi stared at his client, whose phone was currently going off non-stop. usually, iwaizumi hated it when his clients were on their phones during his training sessions; but this was annoying at this point.

"can you answer that," iwaizumi didn't try to hide the irritation in his voice. his client, kenji, perked up from his sit-ups. "sorry about that, man." iwaizumi just nodded his head, waiting to get back to his training.

"it's my clingy ass girlfriend, she's scared i'm out cheating."

frankly, iwaizumi didn't care; he had another client coming in soon and he needed to get this guy out. "okay.. are you ready to continue?" with a rather embarrassed nod from kenji, they finally continued their workout; which consisted of a few more sets and then iwaizumi creating a dietary plan for kenji to follow.

once kenji was gone, iwaizumi finished up a few more clients for the day before he moved onto his own workout for the night. it was normal for him to stay late and the gym owner trusted him enough to close.

he was in the middle of his workout when he heard the front door open. sighing, he wiped his sweat off with a nearby towel and walked to the front. walking up, he saw a pretty girl who looked lost just as much pissed.

noticing the man coming out of the backroom with a confused look on his face, you decided to speak first.

"hey, sorry to interrupt but have you seen a male with brown hair, brown eyes, and about this tall?" iwaizumi watched as you held your hand a few inches above your own head. "oh and his name is kenji, if that helps?"

iwaizumi's eyes widened in realization; you must be the clingy girlfriend.

"we close in about half an hour, nobody's here but me." he answered truthfully as he watched your face fall. "oh, thank you for letting me know." iwaizumi watched as you were about to turn and leave, but oddly enough he wanted the conversation to continue.

"why does he have you out so late lookin' for him?" iwaizumi wasn't one to shy away from being protective; especially when it came to women and his loved ones.

you watched as he leaned over the reception desk, his biceps flexing as he did so. noticing you were staring, you snapped out of it. "we haven't spoken all day, and then i called him and he told me he was at the gym... thought i'd wait for him so we could go do something after."

haven't spoken all day? that was weird considering how much Kenji's phone was blowing up earlier from text messages from his "clingy girlfriend"/

"he's been gone for hours. i'm his personal trainer, iwaizumi." iwaizumi stuck his hand out which you shook immediately, "(name), nice to meet the man who's kept my boyfriend so busy these past few weeks."

"few weeks? today was his third day here." iwaizumi watched as the words registered into your mind. there was a twitch of your eyebrow, nails picking at the skin of your hands, and a quick bite of your lip.

it was a shitty situation; he felt bad that a pretty girl like you was getting played by a man that couldn't even bench press 22kg.

"if it makes you feel any better, he dropped a 3kg weight on his foot." iwaizumi tried his best to cheer you up, and it seemed to be working when a laugh fell from your lips.

"thank you for talking to me, sorry for taking up your time, iwaizumi. I should start to walk back before it gets too dark," you said noticing how late it was getting.

"let me close up and i'll walk you home, if that's okay with you?"

you looked shocked before a small smile took graced your face, "sure that'll be fine."

and as you waited for iwaizumi to close up the gym, you sent one last text to kenji; a breakup text.

it was against your moral conscience to do it over text, but he tested your limits. you weren't even sure if he'd see the text tonight, since he's out doing whatever, but your feelings still stood.

when you and iwaizumi started the walk back to your complex, it was full of natural conversations and laughter. the two of you hitting it off immediately and ended the night exchanging numbers.

when the next day arrived, kenji walked into the gym, iwaizumi made training incredibly challenging. he still did his job with integrity, but he added a few new workouts to kenji's routine, some of which even made the athletic trainer pause when he did them himself.

akaashi

you flopped around on your best friend's bed, burying your face in his pillows and letting out muffled complaints.

"he's so stupid, keiji! can you believe he ditched our date to go get drunk with his friends?!"

akaashi can actually believe it, but he doesn't think you'd want to hear that right now. "it is shocking, yes." the lie comes out smoothly, he knows how this'll go. you'll complain and shit talk your boyfriend, get immensely sad for a few minutes, and then fall asleep on his bed.

this always happens when another male does your heart incredibly wrong, and akaashi is always there to pick up the shattered pieces.

"it's not the first time this has happened either... we'll be going good, and then out of nowhere he just..."

akaashi heard the familiar cracking of your voice, which he hated to hear, and when he noticed you went completely quiet; he knew you were crying into his pillow.

he gently got up from his seat on his desk, taking a seat on the bed next to you. "(name), it has nothing to do with you, he's just a bottom-of-the-barrel kind of guy. you know this," akaashi picked your head up from his pillow and placed it into his lap.

"you need to stop letting below-average men sweep you off your feet," akaashi sighed. these men were lucky enough to have a chance with you. whereas he, who's known you for a long time, hasn't gotten the chance. akaashi is too careful, and he never wants to overstep any of his boundaries and make you uncomfortable.

you sniffle as akaashi wipes your tears and runs a soothing hand through your hair, which only makes you more sensitive. akaashi noticed as your frown deepened, causing his hand to stop his movements, an apology already on the tip of his tongue.

"sorry, (name) i-...."

"i go for these types of men because i don't know if i deserve better," you spoke truthfully, grabbing akaashi's hand and putting it back on your head.

"(name), you deserve the world. it's not good for you to self-sabotage like this." his hand continued its movements in your hair. this time, it's your turn to sigh.

"keiji, you're too nice to me... i don't deserve someone like you." akaashi is stunned into silence, his hand movements halting. this was new.

you use his silence to continue, "you're so nice to me. i can't find better because better doesn't exist when you're near me. i don't know what i did to deserve your kindness."

akaashi breaks out of the trance he's in a furrow in his brow at your belittling words. "(name), you have made me discover parts of myself i didn't even know existed. (name) you make me happy."

he sees as your eyes start to water once again, "but i don't deserve you. every time i start to date someone new, my brain always compares him to you." akaashi's heart starts to speed up. "i'm the one that doesn't deserve you," he starts, "you stay by my side when i'm stressed from deadlines, you know how to tell when i need to get out of my room. (name), you know me better than almost anyone."

it was a sweet moment shared between you and him; two people who have been silently pinning for each other for so long.

he sees an opportunity right now and he'd be a fool not to take it.

"(name), you don't need these terrible men when you have me," his words become more confident as he speaks, "i promise i can be enough for you, my feelings towards you are genuine. never would i even think about treating you as poorly as these other men."

your eyes widened as you looked up at his face, a pretty red hue blossoming over his face. "you.. do you actually like like me?"

akaashi chuckled at your words, "yes, (name) i like like you," he repeated your words back at you.

"good, because i like like you too."

both you and akaashi let a comfortable silence take over the two of you. a mutual feeling of love waiting to be explored lingers in the air.

this was fun to write! if you enjoyed it pls consider reblogging or following :)

[kalmiaphlox]

Damn, this is what it feels like to be you?

COMPLETED!

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2

Love Me Like You Do

Astarion takes his wrist back, rubbing at the tender skin, disappointed. "I thought it would feel better than that…" She blinks multiple times, trying to clear her mind of this euphoric rush that is burning through her now from head to toe. "That was much better than I expected."

Pairing: Astarion x Named Female Tav (Hircine)

WC: 8.2k

Main Tags: Body Swap, Humor, Fluff, Smut, Body Worship, Fashion Show, Unprepared deep throating, PiV Sex, Mild Hair Pulling, is this considered self-cest???, slight breeding kink, a lil aftercare

Stuck as a man and watching her body writhe around in ways that Astarion considers pleasing to the eye is not high on her list of enjoyment. This is not the worst day of her life, but by the gods is it one of the most uncomfortable. 

Seeing it for herself now, Hircine thinks she looks more like a worm undulating a path around the room than some sensuous woman enticing her husband into bed.

Yet Astarion finds it exceptionally attractive, made apparent by the way his eyes linger across her form when she stretches out in bed with her best come-hither stare, lips wet and parted, eager to take his cock. He really likes it when Hircine wears something low cut or open at the chest, and if she squeezes her tits together, then it's ‘delightful’, as Astarion would purr. 

All she sees now is someone desperate for attention. 

These images will have to be scrubbed from her mind if she's going to perform like that ever again in the future. The cringe-inducing revulsion she feels for her own body is too much. 

Hircine would love more than anything to be easily turned on by this. They could have that savage fuck he's looking for so bad and then the focus could shift to something else, something that doesn't require Hircine to look at herself more than she wants. 

She's not unpleasant on the eyes with her pink-hued gray skin and the much too long hair that shines between silver, slate and black depending on the lighting. Her eyes are brighter than she's known them to be, the shining gold ring a touch eerie and too reflective.

No, beauty is not the issue.

I just don't like women.

What if they're stuck like this? Will she have to get used to it?

I don't want to fuck men like this. I don't want to fuck or make love or have sex or whatever with anyone but Astarion. 

But she can't do that when he looks like her. 

All she wants is to please Astarion. When he's happy, so is she, and maybe vice versa, but trying to get turned on by herself has been damn near impossible. She looks at that face every damned day! It's not sexy!

She barely touches herself to begin with, the only time really indulging in such an act is when Astarion requests it of her in that way he does. There's no shame behind it, Hircine just doesn't care for it. 

She is trying! No one can say she isn't! Having a penis attached to her instead of inside her is a terrible fate. She can't even look at it. When Astarion slipped into the bathroom for the business-that-shall-not-be-uttered, Hircine got a feel of herself in his body. It just doesn't feel right to touch anything, and then it's Astarion and all she can think about is him not being treated exactly the way he deserves and she would hate to do something wrong.

With Astarion in her sight, the experience is a little better, but then he is her and Hircine does not want to look at herself look at herself! It's weird and so discomforting. 

Then there's the distinct silence of his mind… She never knew how loud hers was, and maybe she misses Herma-Mora’s buzzing a bit. 

The hunger, now that, Hircine could do without. It's not a noise in the way Herma-Mora is, but a feeling, and it's everywhere. A fierce ache that never goes away, gnawing and brutal. Instead of the hunger being localized in his stomach the way a living being's is, it's this unpleasant itch beneath the skin, an inhuman, hungering maw screaming for more and more and more. Why do her teeth hurt so much?!

Astarion said that it's never ending, and no matter how much he drinks, the burn will go on. 

What a terrible existence that must be. 

And it could be Hircine's forever if—

“My love~” When her head turns towards the sing-song tone, his finger sinks into her cheek. Astarion giggles like she fell into some kind of trap. “May I make another request?”

Oh, gods. “What now, Husband?” She asks, hesitant. 

His cat-like grin is an odd sight on Hircine’s actual face. “Can I try on your clothes? Pretty please?”

Could be worse. “My wardrobe is at your disposal. Let me know if you need help, some of those straps are so… strappy.”

“Not to be rude, my perfect—”. 

“You're always rude.” She says.

He gasps as if she told him his lipstick doesn't match the outfit he's wearing. “That, my sweet, is rude.”

“It’s true.”

“Rude!”

“Rude,” she echoes, dryly.

They stare at each other for a while before Astarion huffs, flicking a long strand of hair over his shoulder, his tone snippy and demanding. “Would you be a good wife and fetch the standing mirror from the storage room? My arms are much too weak now.”

“Yes, milord, whatever you want!” She mocks as she gets up, feeling a pillow thump against her back as she disappears into the hallway and enters the storage room. The mirror is front and center since they bring it back and forth often, maybe they should just keep it in the bedroom, but Hircine likes the room mirror-less. 

She pauses in front of it, finding nothing in its reflection. Alarm wiggles into her brain and Hircine pats down her body to know that she is still there. Of course it is.

This is Astarion's reality.

Back in the bedroom, Astarion is already digging through her closet, making a horrendous mess of everything. Clothes dropped in piles on the floor, skirts scattered about, along with trails of ribbons that she's not quite sure were in her closet to begin with.

Hircine would wager quite a sum of gold that Astarion is making a mess like that just for Lexi to clean up. 

Truly, he is the rude one. 

Settling the mirror behind the privacy screen, Hircine peers into the closet. “Do you need any help?”

“No! Go sit down while I prepare!” 

She won't argue. Back on the couch, Hircine reclines back with legs crossed, listening to the rustle of fabrics and grunts of whatever is causing Astarion exertion, probably some dress that needs to be tied in a complicated manner. If he and Lexi aren't around, she avoids those. No need to spend half the evening trying to put on one stupid piece of clothing.

“Can I take one of your fans?” Astarion asks from the closet.

“Only the ones in the top drawer.” She says, checking her nails the way she's seen Astarion do so many times. His cuticles are kept clean and the nails are filed neatly just as she expects.

He mutters under his breath, a quiet whisper that, in normal circumstances, would not be heard. “Tch, stingy.” 

“Hey, I heard that!” The hearing in this body is something else, and well, all the senses are so amplified. She can hear Astarion’s heartbeat and smell the perfumes tucked in their bottles, all from her place on the couch. Even her vision is exceptionally sharpened. It really is cheating to be so attuned to everything; there's no chance to hide.

He clears his throat loudly, getting her attention. “Are you ready, my love?”

“Dazzle me with my wardrobe, please.” She deadpans.

“Don't mind if I do~” Astarion sings, one slim leg appearing from behind the privacy screen, the hints of a blue dress Hircine doesn't recognize follow the movement. Stepping out into full view, waving a spread open fan to cast a breeze over himself, Astarion poses languidly against the screen's frame, slightly reclined with chest jutting out, head tilted back. Is that... supposed to be alluring? The dress he chose is of royal blue silk, tight-fitting as all Hircine’s clothes are, with a deep neckline that plunges all the way to his navel, focus drawn to the breasts which are partially covered and threatening to fall out should he lean over too far. “Blue suits you, pet, and so does this dress. Why have you been hiding it from me?”

She drags a finger down her flat chest. “It's not the most work-appropriate.”

Astarion scoffs, “Work wear be damned. Everyone should have the privilege of seeing Belbol and Iiyola in all their glory.”

“You want other people looking at my tits?”

The fan is snapped shut, tapping against his chin as Astarion ponders that, the face that was once hers, screwing up with disgust. “No, I guess not, but they should be displayed more.”

“So, I should walk around naked for you.” She adjusts while re-crossing her legs, holding onto a knee with a quirked brow.

“Then where's the fun in that? I enjoy ripping your clothes off… Also, this is nice!” He reaches up, swiftly pulling the sides of the fabric away so his breasts pop out with a bounce, and then Astarion rocks back on his heels, making them sway. “Are you taking notes? I can get you some parchment. Gods, I could look at them all day!”

“You already do.”

“Actually, no, I don't think so. They're starving for my affection.”

Earlier on the elevator ride down to the mines, Astarion was grabbing and groping at her chest—not that Hircine minds at all. He holds them for ‘support’, for whose benefit, well everyone knows it’s not hers. Most nights in bed, Astarion's head rests on her chest, partially to listen to her heartbeat and then partially for the… pillows. Then there is reading time, a book in one hand and a tit in the other because ‘What if this book is scary, Hircine?’

He's silly. 

“Is this the only show I'm getting, or are you going to try on more?” Hircine asks, having had enough of watching her own breasts shake while Astarion coos in awe.

“Fine. Onto the next.” The dress is already being shucked off as he turns around, disappearing behind the screen once again. Pants—ew, blouses—ew, and a variety of dresses and nightdresses are tried on and flounced around in before Astarion gets to something that he laughs uproariously about. 

She'd much rather hear his actual laugh.

“What’s so funny, Husband?” The laughter is extremely suspicious, and Hircine is ready to burst into the closet before Astarion shushes her.

“Oh, just wait. This is amazing. You've really been holding out on me, you little deviant.”

Now she's concerned. There's a whole assortment of unwanted fabric in Hircine's closet that's been stuffed into the bottom of a drawer since Lexi will just purchase things randomly that fit Hircine’s ‘tastes’, and occasionally they are things that Hircine would never wear a day in her life because Lexi does as she pleases.

She shudders, thinking of shoes. An awful invention. No one should suffer their tyranny.

“Love, can I take your lipstick off?”

Ah, so now Hircine really has to see herself in all her glory. “Yes, go ahead.”

He giggles maniacally from behind the screen and Hircine is now fidgeting in her spot on the couch, worried about whatever he has found.

“Like I said, I hope you’re taking notes!” And Astarion appears, draped in a luxuriously oversized, velvet robe in a deep earthy shade of green with dyed owlbear down cuffs and hem. The sash is tied tight around his thin waist, but Hircine knows something is hidden underneath. “Pet, I can’t believe you don’t wear this all the time!” His white lips are split into what must be a seductive smile.

She shrugs, “Eh, I forgot about it.”

He shakes his head in disappointment, “If you won’t wear it, then I might take it for myself then.”

“Be my guest, Husband.”

Gliding across the floor so smoothly he may as well be floating, Astarion circles around Hircine to the back of the couch, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her cheek. “There’s more…” 

She knew it. 

Back in front of Hircine, Astarion drags the table out of the way, giving himself a wide area for whatever show he is about to put on. “This, my perfect girl, is what I expect you to commit to memory. Know that I like it, and know that I want it. Understand?”

She nods, reluctant to see whatever he is about to show off. Hircine is racking her brain for what this mystery outfit could be. Knowing that it’s something scandalous, she can only assume it was tossed to the very back of her closet the moment she saw it, never to be unearthed—until Astarion, that is. 

Slowly—torturously, in Hircine’s eyes—Astarion unties the sash, the most smug grin twisting his lips in a way that only Astarion is capable of. He’s careful to keep the robe closed as the sash is fully undone now, the smirk deepening still, the bastard. His fingers tease at the neckline, spreading it ever so slightly that Hircine can tell that whatever else he’s wearing plunges deep, showing off his ample cleavage. “Are you ready?” He asks in a husky voice that drips with an unbearable need.

Just by scent, Hircine can tell how turned on he’s getting from this raunchy display, and since it’s her body, she knows exactly how wet her cunt is. She sighs, waving her hand over his form. “Get it over with, please.”

His teeth dig into his lower lip as the robe is pulled away revealing… 

Can it even be called ‘clothing’ with how little it covers? 

Hircine is unsure of what this exact piece of clothing is called, outside of it being some type of lingerie. A black strip of fabric goes over the shoulders and comes together mid chest to slip right between the breasts—which are both out in the open, nothing hiding them, before splitting off into three thin pieces that go under the bust and down the stomach. There’s a very small, very sheer lacey triangle of fabric that covers just above the belly button and over the crotch… mostly. It’s clear almost immediately to Hircine that they are crotchless. There are more straps and strips and strings over the hips and legs.

Nothing is left to the imagination, that's for sure.

The strappiness of it all is the biggest offender. That’s why Hircine has never worn it. She hates straps, all they do is end up in tangles and her in teary irritation, ready to rip them to shreds. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Astarion asks, all heavy-lidded and filled with lust as his hands roam over his body, feathering light touches that has him trembling. “I know why you wouldn’t like this, but wear it for me just once. That’s all I ask.”

“You’re wearing it just fine for me. Is that not enough?” 

He twists around, giving Hircine a view of ass and back, then bends forward.

She blinks, unphased. Yes, that is a cunt.

It's nowhere near as enticing as when he does his seductive poses in his body. “No, because this is me, and not you. I want to see how you move in it.” 

“Do you think it would fit on this body?” Hircine gestures over herself in jest. 

Astarion pauses, head cocking as he thinks about it, maybe a little too seriously. “Would that be something you’d like?”

She doesn’t even have to think about it. “No. What about you?” 

“I bet I’d look ravishing, pet, but I don’t think it’s really my style. I prefer being naked, draped perfectly with a blanket over my cock so you’re left wanting, or fully clothed to the nines! No in between, really.” Moving closer, Astarion points down to Hircine’s crossed legs. “May I sit?”

“Ye—” Before her words have fully left her mouth, Astarion straddles her lap, wrapping his arms around her neck tight and pushing his breasts into her face. Having no energy to fight him, Hircine rests her head on her own tits, humming in pleasant surprise at how soft and comfortable it is. No wonder Astarion loves to use them as pillows. 

"I have to ask… Am I cold to you—in my body, not like this, obviously?"

Hircine shrugs, looking up through her lashes at Astarion. "You're more room temperature, though I guess if the room is cold, then so are you, but it's not a bad thing. It feels nice most days."

"You promise?" Astarion asks.

"Yes, of course. Why?"

He sighs heavily, leaning further into Hircine so her face is now buried in plush tits—there's no use fighting against it. "I-I was worried maybe it made you uncomfortable… or you put up with it for me."

Drawing a hand up and down his back—and finding the lack of scars a little strange—Hircine pulls away enough to speak properly. "No, not at all. I like the way you feel."

"Gods above, my perfect girl always knows what to say." Astarion squeezes Hircine's cheeks in his hands, peppering kisses all across her face. "You're so good to me. Is there anything you’d like to do since I have indulged in… everything?" He asks as he cards his fingers through her silky curls. 

What could Hircine possibly want to do like this? 

While she considers all the options, the steady thrum of Astarion’s heart pounds against her ear, activating some deep-seated ache within her body and fangs. 

No, no, he wouldn’t allow that, would he? Hircine licks her lips, now feeling insatiable in all the wrong ways.

Lifting her head so their eyes meet, Hircine broaches the topic. “Could I… try to drink from you?”

Astarion stills completely once he removes his hands from her. “How do I know that you’ll stop?”

She pauses in consideration. “...You don’t, and neither do I, and if you aren’t comfortable with it, then there’s no reason to. I just—I’m curious, since I can feel your hunger, it’s so strange.”

He holds his chin the same way he does in his own body, putting great thought into this decision. Hircine understands how dangerous this could be for them, how easily she could kill Astarion and her own body if there is no control on her end. 

And with Lexi gone, there is no one to heal him should worse come to worst. 

Astarion grabs her cheeks, eyes blazing with excitement. “Let’s do it, because I also want to know how it feels, you know, when I’m not lying on the ground dying… and also you look so erotic—sexy!—when I bite you just right, I’d like to see how I look when biting.” She nods in his hands, and he keeps talking. “I think the wrist is our safest route, easier to pull away when I’ve decided you're done. I know you like a nice deep drink from your body, but I’d like to keep my wits about me, so maybe two pulls should be enough. How do you feel about that?”

Hircine was expecting an outright no, so this is better than nothing at all. “I think that’s perfect. There are some health potions in the bathroom should I… go too far.”

“No, there will be none of that. Two drinks max, and if you go further, I’ll slap you. Sound fair?” As if a slap will hurt her like this.

“I—Yes, that's fair.” She is absolutely salivating now at the prospect. The smell of blood beneath his skin has been easy enough to ignore, whether from Astarion’s years of control or maybe Hircine isn’t attuned to it with their body-mishap, but now that she is really focusing on it, it might be a little overpowering. Not in the way perfume is when a bottle is spilled, no, this scent is so hard to describe. 

Astarion explained it once, she smells like berries, spices and a natural musk that is present in all living beings. She thought it was her perfume, but he was adamant that it’s her own scent, and sitting here now with Astarion’s in-human sense of smell does Hircine understand. 

It’s under her skin, and to imagine how much more potent it will be when the blood is no longer trapped within… Oh gods. She can’t wait. 

Adjusting himself so he sits next to her on the couch, Astarion offers his wrist, palm up. Never once in her almost one hundred and fifty years has Hircine thought a wrist looked delicious, even when it’s attached to a person with her face, wearing practically nothing on their body. Weird. 

Right when she takes the wrist in her own hands, Astarion speaks up. “Go very, very slow. Stay in control, remember that drinking more will absolutely not stop the ache, and also, please don’t kill me. I will be quite cross with you.”

“Right,” Hircine says, licking her lips. Go slow. 

She doesn’t know how she knows as her mouth is brought right over the spot she should bite. The pulse, while quiet beneath the skin, thunders in her ears, the guiding star of her hunger.

Everything is felt in slow motion—her nostrils flare, inhaling deeper. The room grows brighter, each follicle of hair on the arm she's holding now in hyper focus as her mouth finds its rightful place, biting down, feeling how her fangs easily slice into his flesh.

Astarion tenses with discomfort, but that's all on another plane where her hunger is concerned.

Again, she moves like this is a dance she's learned a thousand times over, fangs pull out and blood gushes into her mouth. The moan that breaks free from her throat is animalistic and ravenous. Has she ever tasted something so good? Hircine can recall exactly how blood tastes in her own body, pungent iron and sharp, not something she'd take a goblet of.

But this… this is the nectar of the gods, ambrosia! How could she live without such an amazing delicacy?

"Slow, Hircine!" Astarion urges, bringing her back to the present. His free hand pats her cheek roughly, not yet a slap, but more than ready to deliver one.

Slow. Slow. SLOW. She chants the words over and over as she swallows her first drink, instantly sensing how the warmth permeates throughout her body—bringing her attention down somewhere that has so far been very unresponsive.

More blood fills her mouth and she will savor this, since it shall be her last. The essence sits upon her tongue, coating it, imbuing it with the life that has been missing when she and Astarion were thrust into the other's bodies.

And then it is also swallowed down, and she will weep at the loss of that enlightening experience. Remembering how Astarion stops the flow of blood, she releases her mouth from his wrist, licking the pinholes where such a feast once lay. Something about the saliva of Astarion's mouth closes the wounds his fangs create, quickly staunching the flow of blood—and it delivers Hircine one last treat.

Astarion takes his wrist back, rubbing at it, disappointed. "I thought it would feel better than that…"

She blinks multiple times, trying to clear her mind of this euphoric rush that is burning through her now from head to toe. "That was much better than I expected."

"Ugh, that's not fair! You always make it look so hot when I bite you! Why was it not hot?" He pouts, crossing his arms as if throwing a tantrum, but the naked tits shoving up at his movements just looks silly, though Hircine is struggling to understand why her eyes are drawn down to them now, the hunger morphing into another kind of twisted burn.

"I didn't like it the first time you bit me… It might be an acquired… taste." She smiles deviously and leans in. "We could try again if you'd like."

Astarion scoffs, swatting her away. "Absolutely not! I will—Oh, now how could I forget about that?" Shoving Hircine back against the couch, he points to her tented crotch.

So that's what she's feeling. Blood lust.

Lavender-gold finds red, wide and pleading. "Can we? I know how long it lasts. Please, Hircine."

"It really is involuntary… I thought it was because you're attracted to me." How sad. She had thought her blood was special.

He pats her face, forcing her eyes away from her now erect cock. "I am attracted to you, never think otherwise, but that isn't the focus right now. Hircine, my darling, perfect love, I need it in me. Please."

"Fine. Hurry!" Before her words are even finished, Astarion is already tearing her shirt off, buttons flinging to the floor, then furiously undoing the ties on the pants she had put on after their nap. It's definitely more sensitive down there than it was earlier when he… helped tuck her penis back into her underpants. The feeling of Astarion's fingers brushing over where the cock lies beneath the clothing is sending bolts of arousal up into her insides.

It's so different yet similar to her own body, inside and outside. What a strange experience altogether.

Pants are stripped and then the underwear does not last long once Astarion gets his hands on it, now flung to some corner of their bedroom. Gods, he moves fast when he wants something as fanatically as this. Positioned between her legs on his knees, Astarion kneads into Hircine's thighs, not quite sure of how to proceed.

Is he drooling? Whatever, as long as he's happy…

"Can I taste my cock?" His eyes flash to hers before returning down to the thing in question.

Who would she be if she stopped him? "I—Uh, go ahead."

Not a moment is wasted before his lips wrap around the head, and Hircine gasps at how good it feels. Hot and wet in all the right ways, tongue slipping along the underside for a few swipes. She fully understands why Astarion is always so eager to have her choking on his cock.

It's amazing on the other side!

Why couldn't she have gotten it up earlier? So much play time wasted from her inability to see past herself.

She likes when his tongue is inside her in their normal interactions, but near all of her cock has been swallowed down by Astarion and Hircine can't help but moan aloud. What a rush!

Tucking hair behind his pointed ears, Astarion bobs up and down her shaft a few times, ringing his other hand along the base in a surprisingly tight grip. Hircine’s breath catches in her throat, strangling whatever noise was trying to escape.

Astarion then just goes for it, taking that cock all the way down—and he chokes. Gagging, he rips his head away, threads of spit connecting his mouth to her sex. "Ho-How do you—You make it look so easy!" He gasps out.

Hircine is stuck, stunned, cobbling back pieces of her mind because what. In. The. Hells. Everything about that was so perfect. She didn't realize how cold she felt until being encased with pure molten heat, and then the velvety mouth-feel…

With a cough to clear her throat, Hircine clears her mind finally, responding to Astarion. "I don't know how you suck cock, Husband, but you can't just take it without thought."

Astarion pauses, eyes widening with something that borders on frenzied. "It's because my cock is so big, isn't it?"

"Yes," she responds instantly. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. That is not a can of beholders she ever wants opened.

He stares back down at his cock, plotting out his next move and Hircine hopes for more, for anything really. "I'm going to fuck myself now."

Ah, straight to better than anything. "Get on me," Hircine all but begs, feeling her cock give a little kick in anticipation.

Still wearing that horrendous not-an-outfit, Astarion clambers up on his knees, resting them on either side of Hircine's thighs. Placing a hand on her shoulder, their eyes meet. "Are you ready, my love?"

"I—Wait!" Taking a fistful of that scrap of fabric he has on, Hircine rips it off with ease. "I was tired of staring at it."

Astarion's mouth has gone slack, forming a long O. "I'm going to come so fucking hard tonight." He searches out her cock, taking it in hand and lining it up to his sopping wet cunt.

Is that the one upside to a cock is that it isn't as messy as the endless slick she produces? Hircine would still much prefer her vagina back.

His heart is pounding a ferocious beat against his chest, eager to escape, and she briefly wonders if it feels painful to him. On his knees like this, Hircine is perfectly eye level with those breasts, staring into the white void that is his firm nipples.

Is she about to do this?

Oh, yes.

Astarion sinks all the way down on her cock with ease from his slippery lips and their moans in unison are music to their ears. It's rapturous, the way her—his cunt swallows her cock whole, devouring its entire length. Soft and wet and warm and delicious. To fill, instead of be filled, now that is an experience.

Their mouths find each other instantly, tongues tangling together. "Oh, fuck!" Hircine gasps into Astarion, and he swallows those words greedily, winding his fingers into her hair to crush their faces impossibly closer.

He pulls away, nipping at her lips as he does. "You'll suck on my tits?"

"Yeah…" Hircine breathes out as she's guided by Astarion to his breasts. His back is arched, offering them up for the feasting. Taking one in hand, Hircine latches on to a nipple, finding it not all that unlike the way she does it to herself—which she is doing, but not really…

Clearing her mind of any erection-killing thoughts, she sucks gently on the hardened peak, the taste of his skin so sweet and intoxicating. Astarion groans raggedly, nails clawing into her shoulders as he rocks in place on her cock, really the only stimulation she can handle right now.

She doesn't believe she's going to last long at this rate.

Shuddering, Astarion begins to move with purpose now, finding a rhythm astride Hircine. She releases his tit, choosing to lean back and watch him ride her like his life depends on it, as Astarion has done so many times when the roles were reversed.

So, it's maybe not that bad being a man. Kind of.

“Oh gods, oh gods, please, I need you deeper. Fuck me with my cock, Hircine, I can take it all.” His head is thrown back, tits bouncing as Astarion rocks up and down his own cock, all sense lost. “Hircine, my love, please go deeper! I need it!” Astarion is petting at her face, kissing her lips, moaning and screaming and begging.

Astarion is rarely the loudest one in the bedroom, always demanding that Hircine let loose as much as possible because it's 'angelic'… The shoe on the other foot is a little weird. "There's no going deeper!" She laughs, taken out of the moment.

"Wha-What?!"

“It's bottomed out inside you, Husband, trust me, I know.”

Astarion pauses his rocking, the lust giving way to more clarity. “How is that it? There's more to my cock, I know it.”

“No, that's all.” Literally. He’s sitting all the way down on it, there’s no more to take.

More of the fuck-drunk—cock-drunk might be more appropriate—haze lifts, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “Are you saying my cock’s small?”

“I have never, nor would ever say that. It's perfect, I swear.”

"My cock's big enough to choke your mouth, but not big enough to stuff your cunt?"

"It does both jobs perfectly, and from where I'm sitting, this cock feels stuffed inside of a cunt right now. You are the one having issues with it! I never have!"

“Well, I need more. Can you magic it bigger?”

She places her hands around his full hips, digging in to the soft flesh. “Uh, no, absolutely not. Having been in that same position, like two days ago if I recall correctly, I assure you that even if your cock were bigger, it would not fit.” For emphasis, Hircine pushes down on his hips, nodding knowingly at the small whimper that escapes his lips. “Do you feel that, Husband? That's the end.”

Astarion's cock could not be more perfect for Hircine. Long enough that it can reach the back wall of her cunt so deliciously just the way she likes, and the girth gives her the most delightful stretch, never painful, only pleasurable. Yet somehow he is begging for more…

His cunt clenches and pulses around her length, thighs baring down on her own. Oh, that's good. She'll take more of that.

“But what if it could go deeper?” His lips are on hers again, tongues dancing as Hircine's head is tilted up and pressed into the couch cushions.

She laughs awkwardly, talking around his tongue. “I promise—you, it can't—”

Reeling back with a pout—he likes this face I make?! It’s so childish!—Astarion persists. “Why not? There’s more room in here.” He pats his flat stomach with a grin.

“Do you need an anatomy lesson? If I—you, ugh whatever, go any further, it'll enter the—That's just not how it works.”

“Well, it should be filled with something. What better than my own cock?”

Hircine cringes internally, trying not to let his words ruin the arousal she's finally built up. Thank the gods Astarion is not a woman. “How about we not destroy my body for your deranged penis obsession, alright? I think that's a fair and normal thing to want.”

“But magic—”

She interrupts him, not allowing anymore of this insanity. “Considering that we are both not how we should be right now, I'd say it could get a lot, lot worse. Maybe turn us inside out, actually implant a slaad egg in our chests… I could go on, Husband, but I think you get the point.” Hircine considers him for a moment before bucking her hips up to meet his, relishing the gasp that's pushed out of his mouth. “Why don't we change it up a bit? I like this position a lot, but it’s not as fun for me at the moment.”

His eyes sparkle with excitement. “Oh, fuck me exactly the way you want to be fucked.”

He already does though… What haven't they done that Hircine would like?

Hmm, well it's not exactly novel, but she won't have to see her own face anymore.

“Get up.” She demands exactly the same way he does. She likes being told what to do when it's Astarion—and so does he, apparently, when he enthusiastically complies. They both groan at the loss of cock in cunt when he gets up, and Hircine is especially surprised at how much she misses that all-encompassing warmth wrapped around her. It'll be back in a moment.

Panting in tandem, they're both covered in slick, all between his legs and down the front of her thighs. Gods her body really has no problems getting wet for this one. 

"Do you want a little roughness?" Hircine asks, running her hands along the curves of his neck.

He hums thoughtfully as their lips meld together one more time. "You're not going to accidentally break me are you? I'm a delicate flower now."

"Hah! Like I said, only a little… It will be just the way I like it."

His glowing eyes sparkle with insatiable desire. "Oh, yes. Yes, please."

Winding her hand into long locks of hair, Hircine pulls back his head tight, baring his throat at an angle so she can watch the pulse pound beneath it. Astarion stares up at her, a veil of caution now layering over his lust. She won't bite, there's no more need for that, as her mouth finds the sensitive skin, scraping fangs down to his collarbones, reveling in the way he trembles like a bird caught in a trap.

Just the way I like it.

A sharp tug drags Astarion further, curving his back so Hircine can take a breast in mouth, suckling the skin harshly to leave a puffy red mark, barely pressing her teeth in, careful not to break through. Astarion keens, loud and long, scrabbling for any purchase on Hircine's broad chest and finding none.

Having enough of this sensual play as it does nothing for Hircine, she takes his chin between her fingers, "Are you ready to be fucked?"

"Ravage me, my love!" He cries.

Grabbing his hair once again, this time with much more force—though nothing that will tear—Hircine guides Astarion to the back of the couch, shoving his stomach up against the ledge. She pushes him over until his feet no longer touch the ground, practically bent in half with his arms holding himself mostly upright on the couch cushions.

"Oh, I like this, pet."

"I know you do, and imagine how much better it would be if I were me and you were you."

His legs wrap around her waist, calves locking her in—or at least trying to with his limited strength. Cock is teased against the entrance to his slit, not entering, just a smooth up and down that makes him quiver and whine like a bitch in heat. Leaning in with her hold on his hair still tight, Hircine nibbles at his ear, whispering as she does, "I love you, Husband."

He sharply intakes a breath at her words, responding in kind. "I love yo—"

Her cock slams inside of him hard, stopping any verbal formations as she rocks and ruts into his cunt aggressively, hips slapping against his bare ass in a powerful rhythm and digging her blunt nails into his slim waist so Astarion won't go tumbling over the front of the couch while her other hand keeps his hair coiled within her fist. Her grunts are barely audible above the wet smacking and Astarion's own high-pitched cries.

How could he ever complain about this not being enough? His cunt walls are strangling her cock, milking it for everything it has.

Pistoning in and out, Hircine's ploughs into Astarion giving him exactly what he so desperately wants while she slowly but surely reaches the precipice of an orgasm.

Thinking back on it now, Hircine cannot believe he has never bent her over a desk or table in their home. Gods, she wishes it were her right now. It's fun doing the fucking, but she prefers to be fucked.

And maybe it's a little too much for Astarion too when his moans turn to something she'd rather not hear.

"Oh, fuck me, Hircine! Fill me to the brim!" His cries of euphoria are sharp against her more sensitive ears, and she is thankful for the soundproofing of their walls. "Ah~! Ah~! Ah~! Pet, give me my come! Make me pregnant! I'll carry my own baby! Let me have it!"

Her brutal pace falters, mind reeling at the turn this has taken. What the fuck is he saying? Is he truly so consumed by his own cock that he would go this far?

Astarion continues with his insane ramblings, "Hircine, please! I need it inside me! Ah~! I'll grow round with child! Breed me! Think of how—"

His words are drowned out as Hircine panics. Nothing makes her dry up—er, go flaccid like talk of children. That is not something they want. He's lost it.

She slows further, looking for any solution because she would never tell Astarion to be quiet… but he needs to shut up or this will all end much too soon.

The lingerie! It's shredded but thank the gods Hircine threw it on the couch with little regard for where it might end up. Releasing her hold on his hair, Astarion falls forward, silenced for the moment while she snatches up the fabric, bundling it up into a ball. Right when he starts to turn in outrage, Hircine shoves the lingerie into his mouth.

In his typical scent-obsessed fashion, his eyes roll into the back of his head as he tastes any lingering wetness there. They can continue in peace.

Returning to burying herself inside of his cunt, which grows slicker by the second, Hircine finds that path of no return, ecstatic at knowing there's an end in sight. She drives with purpose, listening to Astarion's muffled, desperate moans that foretell he must be close too. Gods, nothing gets him off like soaked panties.

The dam is about to break, her cock kicks, ready to release, and Hircine will not stop it, but the build-up is too great.

She blacks out.

++++

Hircine comes to, pinched between a heavy pressure above and then a firm and unyielding object below. She lays face down, ass up in whatever extremely uncomfortable position this is, feet dangling from wherever she is, scalp tingling and her cunt—

What happened?

She tries to get up, but whatever is on top of her keeps her down, unmoving.

And something is… inside her.

Wait, inside?

Hircine's eyes snap open and she is herself once again. Oh gods, she might cry at the relief of feeling so comfortable and whole once again, especially with what she imagines is Astarion’s cock still buried inside her.

No wonder she's so achey down there. How on these material planes did he even complain about his penis? It's perfect!

She tries lifting her torso up, but Astarion's heavy, limp weight keeps her in place, and really, her strength has been sapped by all this wonderful activity. Hircine won't be moving around anytime soon. Her legs flail about, anything to give her some purchase, yet they find nothing. Hircine is stuck until her husband rouses from his stupor.

Are they returned for good, though? She does not believe she can handle the strain of switching back and forth for the rest of her days, no matter how much she loves Astarion.

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Ah! And Herma-Mora is back. Hircine never thought his inchoate chittering would be such a reassuring welcome.

There's no more hunger—of Astarion’s that is. She doesn't mind hers, at least it will go away with some bread and cheese.

He got his wish; she is bent in half, though Hircine did it to herself. Have they been here for long? Her legs are numbing from this position and pinch, and the frame of the couch is digging painfully into her hips while Astarion's body offers an unrelenting pressure to her backside.

How did he wake her up when he found them in the mines like this? A slap might be a little hard in this position… and she doesn't think she could ever hit him.

"Husb—" Her voice is a ragged croak. Hircine swallows and tries again, louder this time. "Husband! Wake up!"

A groan, then a subtle shift atop her follows, so Hircine shouts once more. "Husband, you're crushing me!!"

He lurches before propping himself up on his arms with a groan. "Uughh, what happened?" Then he springs to life, relieving Hircine of his crushing weight—though she might unhappily groan when his cock slips free of her over-sensitive cunt. "I'm me! Gods above, I'm me again!" He's crowing with excitement, probably running his hands along his body, remembering what it's like. As he should. He's a gorgeous piece of man.

"Oh, oh my, what's this beautiful sight?"

She doesn't know what he's referring to until Hircine feels the ghosting of Astarion's fingers across her arse, teasing down along the roundness until his cool fingers stroke at her lower lips. "You're leaking, pet. We can't have that."

Good gods… talk about a never-ending hunger.

A digit sinks inside of her, probably to push their combined spend spilling out back in and Hircine whines sweetly, but not before the sting of her hips returns in full force, reminding her of this great discomfort.

"Husband, you know I love it, but this position is hurting me…" She says, his fingers leaving her instantly. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, what a way to ruin the moment.

Abruptly, she is pulled off the couch and into Astarion's embrace, kissing her forehead and nuzzling against her cheek. "I'm sorry, love, I got a little too excited."

He's so beautiful, exactly as he should be with his silver curls that catch the light, and eyes that crinkle so softly, sweetly, cutely, when he smiles. It wasn't even a whole day and she can't believe how much she missed that face.

She sighs in his strong arms, elated to be back to normal. "There is nothing to apologize for," but then she remembers his words when she was fucking him. "Actually, what in the hells were you on about? 'Breed me'? Did you lose you mind?"

He freezes, "I, uh, I don't know…" Astarion chews on his lip, lost. "It was like a fog of desire consumed me." His whole body is racked by a shiver.

"I feel like you cursed me." She places a hand over her stomach. "I'll ask Lexi to brew me some tea when she's back. Who knows what this-this switch has meddled with!"

"Good idea, my sweet. Give me a moment now." Dropping her like a sack of potatoes on the bed, Astarion disappears into the bathroom.

While he's gone, Hircine takes stock of her body. Not that she doesn't trust Astarion at all, but she wants to enjoy it and never take it for granted ever again. Every finger, toe and nail is accounted for. Her breasts are well played with, the hickey she left on one still there. How weird.

Rubbing her palms into her hips to soothe the burn from where she'd been pinned to the couch, Hircine waits for Astarion to return, ignoring the empty tenderness of her sex.

They might both be a little too hungry for one another.

Astarion reappears now, holding a damp washcloth in hand though he pauses on his way back, attention caught by something behind the privacy screen.

She wracks her brain for what it could be…

The mirror?

Oh. He finally, truly got to see himself after all this time, and it was only for a short while. Her heart twists for his loss. Hircine will find a way to make it up to him.

Back at their bedside, Astarion gently wipes away their combined fluids from her thighs and stomach, smiling as he does.

"What is it?" She asks.

"Oh, I'm just surprised at how messy it all was. I guess I don't really think about it when my head is between your legs feasting so not a drop is left…"

Hircine laughs, "You're right, men are so nice and dry. One of the few upsides."

"And miss out on that nectar? No, that is where you are wrong, my love, but I'll allow you to be wrong since there is more for me!" Astarion bends down, planting a smacking kiss against her lips.

"Fair enough, Husband."

Once cleaned off, Astarion slides into bed next to Hircine, layers of blankets draped over them and then he wraps his arms around her in a vice grip, and sure enough, his ear finds where her heart beats, strong and steady. "Mmm, I missed this."

"Me too…" Hircine whispers, snuggling closer.

They revel in the peaceful silence of being back in their bodies, everything righted once more.

Astarion leisurely runs a hand along her shoulder and under the swell of a breast, following the smooth lines of her abdomen to stop at a hip bone, finger just barely digging into the bone. "I've known it, but I never truly understood how fragile you are. If I'm too aggressive or pulling you around, please tell me. I hate the thought that I haven't treated you with enough care."

Her heart melts at his words while Hircine squeezes him tight, burying his head into her chest. "I swear you are only ever as rough as I request you to be. There is nothing to be concerned with, Husband."

"Alright. I-I just wanted to make sure." And never one to let sincerity settle between them for two long, Astarion rises, finding the hickey on her breast and wrapping his lips around it with a greedy growl. He's such a wonderfully puzzling creature sometimes.

"Say, would you like to get some more portraits done?" She asks, running her fingers through his messy curls.

His head whips up, red eyes all aglow. "Can we get some from different angles? Maybe a backside one, with me looking over my shoulder like I'm carrying a secret?" Astarion gasps, "Imagine waking up to a painting of my arse every day! Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"But then Lexi will see it too…"

"And it will be the finest piece of ass that old hag will ever get in her life. Maybe she'll be nicer when she knows I'm built like a god. And what about a nice, tasteful portrait of my cock?"

Hircine sticks her smile in place. "I don't think having your cock plastered on our walls is… tasteful…"

Astarion's face drops, looking like a scolded puppy. "It's because it's small, isn't it?"

"What? No! Oh my gods, fine! I'll make sure we find the finest painter in all of Faerun who specializes in… penises and then your likeness will be captured in perfect detail, bigness and all!"

His usual smirk returns, eyes cat-like and smouldering, and Hircine can't help but feel like she got played. "That's my perfect girl." He returns to his spot on her chest, purring contentedly. "I love this, and I love you."

"I love you too, Husband." She kisses his head, hopefully turning in for a well-earned rest that will be devoid of eldritch tricks.

[cicidarkarts]

Okay how about we have idrees getting hit on by some girl and reader gets all possessive and jealous? It can be spicy or fluff if you’re up for it, thank you

Umm, He's Mine, Actually

contains: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of child abuse, minor cursing, implied fem!reader

You just can’t get that image out of your head. That woman at the checkout counter, laughing at something Idrees had said, covertly touching his hand when she took the money from him. Not that you could blame her for lighting up in his presence. But you know the effort it took for him to get this far. You know the pain and suffering he’s been through, how deeply he’s unpacked everything that had once made him a hateful, spiteful, bitter young man. You know that. You. Not her.

Idrees has a way with women, for sure. One that always gives him a sheepish smile as he slinks away from their advances. It isn’t just because he’s with you, either. You’d once had the same treatment, from a man so afraid of who he used to be that he didn’t want anyone getting tangled in his darkness. But you took the effort to break down those walls. You felt his warm touch. You heard his gentle voice. You saw him put himself at risk when those awful men were harassing you.

More below the cut ♥

Your slurry of thoughts didn’t make much sense. Idrees is easily the most loyal man you’ve ever known. But every time another woman sees his gentleness and tries to take advantage of the way he shuts down around other people, it burns you up.

In your apartment, Idrees is almost finished washing the dishes after dinner. You’re straightening up the living room for your usual quality time, trying to focus on the running tap instead of your endlessly running thoughts. It’s not working so well. The absolute arrogance of other people to think they could take him from you—sometimes rude enough to glance in your direction as though they’re winning some kind of sick game—is eating you up inside.

“Joonam,” Idrees calls as he walks into the living room, “I’m finished. Is there anything you wanted to—?”

You just toss yourself into his warm, strong arms—hard enough that a little air is forced out of him. He returns your embrace. His hands are damp on your back from his chore, but his t-shirt is comfortable and you hide your face in it. You squeeze him tight, breathing in the masculine scent of his body wash. One he’d bought because you liked it.

Just like how he massages your feet when you were on your period. Or how he likes to randomly buy your favorite treats or something he found just because, quote: “it reminded me of you”. How he’s held you in the middle of the night because you had broken down. Because that’s what you like, what you need. None of the others could even understand what Idrees means to you, or what you mean to him.

How you’ve stayed up with him, talking him through panic attacks. How you helped him kick his hand washing habit because he would rip his hands raw trying to “get the blood off”. How he can sleep so soundly near you and you near him because of the peaceful, tranquil life you both have cultivated—

“Not that I’m not happy that you’re hugging me,” says Idrees. “But I can’t breathe.”

You release him and a he takes his first full breath in you’re not sure how long. He rubs his chest, giving you a sort of amused look. But it falls to confusion and concern when he sees your face.

“What’s wrong, joonam?” “I’m just… It’s stupid…” “I’m sure it’s not stupid,” he says, taking your hands in his. “Remember when I cried over the anniversary of my baba’s death? And after all those times he called me a dirty rat and beat the shit out of me. Now that was stupid.”

He laughed a little, trying to get you to echo the sentiment. Yeah, his dad was a dick, and you’re both glad he’s dead, and he’s roasted himself over the incident before, and normally you would’ve laughed with Idrees over how much you both hate his baba, but… You can only bring out a very restrained chuckle. He frowns, making your queasy stomach churn all the more

“C’mon,” he urges softly, leading you toward the sofa, “let’s sit down.”

Once you’re on the plush cushions, he sits close to you. His hands still hold onto yours and his deep, gorgeous blue eyes hold your gaze. It seems like everything about him is meant to lead you to those intensely contemplative and beautiful eyes—his messy dark hair layering around his face, that striking burgundy shirt, his golden brown skin. All of him makes his eyes stand out. And all the concern in them comes through in his tender voice.

“What’s wrong, joon? You can tell me.” “I’m just thinking about that girl at store today. How she was all smiles and trying to touch you and smirking at me like she was about to steal you. And then that made me think of all the other times that happened and how they don’t even know you like I do, and I just— I got so worked up in my own head.” His thumbs roll across the backs of your hands. “I’m not going anywhere.” “I know. That’s what makes me so mad that I get jealous. Like, you’re just— I know you’d never hurt me, and I—” You sigh, struggling to gather coherence to your scattered thoughts.

You lean up against him, your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his lap. You straddle him, tying your legs around his waist like extra security that he won’t slip out of your grasp.

“I get jealous, too,” he says, caressing your back. “You do?” “Of course. You think other men don’t have wandering eyes or get a little too friendly with you?” He shifts a little to get more comfortable, running his fingers along your back and shoulders. “You know those times I just hug or kiss you in public without any prompting?” “Yeah.” “Well, that’s my way of telling those guys to back off.” “I thought you did that cuz you love me,” you say, a little teasingly. He chuckles, a noise so utterly breathtaking that you could melt in his arms. “That, too, joonam. It’s not every time I do it. And I don’t tell you because I don’t want to upset you or make you think that I’m only affectionate because I have something to prove. But it has happened a few times.” “Are you implying that I should do the same thing?” “Implying that I want more hugs and kisses? Never.”

Finally, you both laugh, your bouncing energy beating away that gloom from before as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His soft hair tickles your face and you breathe him in again, just wanting to be surrounded by him for as long as possible. He kisses the side of your head and snuggles you.

“I could never give this up,” he says. “For anyone. Or anything. I’m a better man because of you. Not because of some flirty cashier. I love you, joonam.” Your grip on him tightens and you hold onto the elation that threatens to drip from your eyes. “I love you, too, Idrees.”

As though reading each other’s minds, you both go in for a tender kiss. Your lips lace together and you’re reminded, without a doubt, of his devotion and love.

I am so sorry this took me longer than it took the Romans to build Rome 😭😭 I tried to tackle this several times to varying degrees of failure, but I finally got a version that I really enjoy. Wasn't sure if this would turn into nsfw (I'm sure it could 😏), but the fluff was just too cute, I had to. I hope you enjoyed it, though! Thank you for the request!! 🖤🖤

[lenteur]

random thoughts about run on, episode thirteen

(please do note that this post contains spoilers so read at your own risk.)

“where’s the coutesy in letting me say it first?” “i’m a coward” at least mi joo is self aware. but this episode made me understand her a little better

this episode has put me on an emotional rollercoaster to say the least

part of the reason why i didn’t like mi joo is because she’s been passive in the relationship, but with this episode, i now know the reasons why. she doesn’t like enduring external problems. she hates letting herself get hurt. and with all her past sh*tty relationships, i can see things from her pov and that helps my previous tumultuous (idk i just wanted to use that word) relationship with her

it’s interesting that we see eun bi and mi joo’s discussion when the roles are reversed. eun bi keeps on going after ryan even if he always runs away because she knows he loves her a lot. we can say the ki siblings never run away and always keep on fighting for what they think is important.

it’s also very telling how mi joo keeps on thinking she “doesn’t deserve him (seon gyeom)” she’s been saying that from the early episodes and that thought has never left her ever since. he kind of has that ‘perfect’ image where he’s kind, patient, understanding and motivates people. he’s also righteous. it’s never easy comparing yourself with your partner. it could damage the relationship (look at me being a relationship expert, a fake one though)

and that sentence has finally reconciled me with mi joo “i sometimes end up being faced with my own flaws (when with seon gyeom)” you’d expect to feel loved and understood in a relationship but when you think your partner is ‘perfect’ then you can’t help but just fall down the rabbit hole that is comparing yourself and feeling undeserving. i do hope things work out between them

yook ji woo is an interesting character. she admits choosing her own career over motherhood and doesn’t even dream of becoming first lady. she wants to be remembered as yook ji woo and not someone’s wife. even though you can see she does care a little bit about her children, she’s the one who admits her mistakes. she doesn’t hide behind excuses. she’s just truthful. unlike her husband who keeps saying he loves his family, only to use them to his advantage. both yook ji woo and ki jeong do are both career-driven but the main difference is ki jeong do cares a little too much about his reputation than yook ji woo does. ex: sending his daughter to play golf with his friends/colleagues so they’d compliment her (and him also), showing up with his wife at the movie theater and demonstrating his love for her with a bouquet of flowers, etc.

even with seon gyeom’s efforts to make woo sik enter a track team, the recruiters are still stuck on the whistleblower incident. shows how corrupt the sports world can be. prefering to keep things on the down low instead of punishing the culprits. sigh

i’ve seen that scene on kdrama funny moments compilation but it’s another thing to watch it in its entire context. mi joo and seon gyeom looking at each other when there’s a brawl right behind them is HILARIOUS. i can’t i simply can’t lmao

mi joo taking lee su bin under wing was such a heartwarming moment. she kept defending her and standing up for her, acting like her older sister. it’s true she takes action when it comes to problems that are not relationship ones and i was so happy to see sisterhood once again in this show. women protecting other women 💓

oh and another thing i noticed about the su bin bullying incident is that both her and mi joo don’t have parents. it brought them closer in no time. they have this thing only they can understand.

[enchantestuff]

rekindle - rbr sebastian vettel

in which after a long time apart, you and Sebastian rekindle your love for one another in the least romantic place you could think of - a sweaty, packed nightclub

NOT MY GIF!!

warnings: public sex (ofc), fingering, teasing, lowkey angst at the start, nicknames, uncomfy ex, sebastain Vettel deserves a warning himself, happy sinning

taglist: @theringers​ @forestviper201 @icemanhoneybadger​ @formulamei @findthelightinyourlife

3.1k words

You smirked as your eyes met from across the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You hadn't seen him in over a year, the last time you were even in the same country as him had ended up with you climbing into a taxi, speeding away to the airport and him standing half naked in his driveway, wishing for the car to turn around and end his worst nightmare.

The relationship between you and Sebastsian was a complicated one to say the least. You had grown up with each other, your families vacationed together every second summer and you spent many christmases together. It was only when you got older that you started to really appreciate Sebastian.

Daydreams of what it would be like to spend a night in bed with him began to fill your free moments. Images of the two of you tangled in bed was once something that you could only dream about, but that dream certainly became a reality one unforgettable night in Italy.

It was during a celebratory dinner after yet another win that he had leaned over to talk to you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck and goosebumps had risen all over your skin, you cursed yourself for your reaction but soon began praising your childish antics once Sebastian finally caught onto how you felt about him.

The few words of “do i make you nervous, liebe?” led to the two of you making out in the corridor. That celebratory dinner escalated to a friends with benefits situation which set off a more than complicated relationship between the two of you where feelings were of course present, but stubbornness from both sides refused to let them be out in the open.

Your feelings for one another eventually escaped when he got into a nasty crash in the middle of a race. You ran up to him the minute he stormed into the garage, tears welling in your eyes as you crushed into a hug. He held you with just as much force and whispered into your ear what you had been waiting for months to hear.

He told you that you had been the only thing on his mind when he crashed into the wall and he didn't want to go a minute longer without telling you how he really felt about you

As much as you wanted things to be great with Sebastain, your relationship was unfortunately not plain sailing from there and the media had a bring role to play in your downfall. They wouldn't leave him or you alone, constantly following the two of you wherever you went and even going as far as sending mail to your shared home. It was the media that drove you to leave the man you adored and move to another country in search for a new career and a new life away from the public eye.

You stared at him now, unable to tear your eyes away from his beautiful frame. He looked as good as ever and you knew deep down that you would probably never see him again. So against your brain telling you not to, you engraved every detail of his face into your memory, not wanting to let him go just yet.

You felt horrible for leaving him and strongly believed that he hated you for abandoning him. You wouldn't have blamed him if he did, you sometimes hated yourself for that decision. So you kept your distance from him all night, repeatedly telling yourself that if he did not harbor any bad emotions towards you, then he would approach you himself.

To tell the truth, you were too embarrassed to go up to him yourself, too full of guilt to face him after what you had done. But when he made eye contact with you as he pulled a girl into his body, something inside you snapped and you found yourself being dragged into an all too familiar game of cat and mouse with him.

Your night of teasing had officially begun the minute he kissed the brunette's neck, refusing to break your stare as his hands ran up and down her hips. You decided it was your turn to reciprocate the teasing and pulled a random, but still handsome, man towards you to dance. Holding your gaze with him, you allowed the man to grip onto your hips and sway from side to side. Your ass pressing against him with every beat of the music.

You maintained eye contact with him as he chatted with multiple women, his hands resting dangerously low on their backs as he smirked in your direction, you hated how much you loved his little games.

You decided to take a dance break and stepped away from the claustrophobic dance floor. Moving towards the less packed bar, you leaned against the contour top as you ordered yet another drink. The feeling of hands wrapping around your hips didn’t surprise you, nor did the hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You were used to the warmth of Seb’s body by now and after so much time apart, you still recognized his touch.

“Quite a show you put on back there,” he muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning his attention back towards you. You kept your face forward, staring at the variety of liquor stacked on the shelves as Sebastian flirted with you in your ear. He was still positioned behind you, which you saw as the perfect opportunity to press your ass against his crotch.

The tightening of his grip only fueled you to press yourself further into him in hopes that you would emit an even stronger reaction from him, and boy did you get what you wanted. One of his hands rested underneath your breast and as he emitting a small amount of pressure against you, he forced you into him.

No longer leaning against the counter, you could now feel the entirety of his body pressed against you. Every vein and muscle. Every curve and dent of his body, Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling your bum against him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now, love, or are you really that fucking oblivous?”

You twisted your head to finally look at him, momentarily taken aback by his pure beauty before regaining your confidence again. “That depends,” you hummed, purposely brushing your lips against his neck as you spoke, “Is it working?”

His hold on you tightened and somehow he pulled you even closer to him, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his hardened cock. “Someones excited,” you smiled, immediately freezing up when you caught sight of your ex boyfriend standing next to you.

He was the man you had been with before Seb and it was safe to say he had completely broken your heart.

Confusion immediately filled Sebs body at your reaction, fearful he had done something wrong he moved to stand beside you, holding onto your bicep as he looked you in your eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” he questioned, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he searched your face for any indication of pain.

“Yeah its - “

“Y/N! Great to see you.” Dread immediately filled your body at the infamous voice, you felt yourself go rigid in Sebastian's grip and desperately wished for your ex to leave the two of you alone.

“Who's this douche?” Seb whispered in your ear, trying to relive some of your tension and comfort you in what seemed to be a terribly uncomfortable situation.

“Brad, hey,” you muttered, you grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand that was previously sprawled on the bar countertop, using the warmth of his touch as a confidence booster to finally turn around and face the brutal ex.

“How have you been?” he asked, refusing to even glance at the Redbull driver next to you, focusing his hungry gaze on you and you only.

You sighed deeply at his attempt of small talk. Could he not just say hello and move on? Did he really need to interrupt your night.

Sebastian kept a close eye on you throughout your short conversation. A sense of protectiveness filled him at your rigid stance, he knew you could handle the situation yourself but he couldn't help but want to aid you. He felt the need to get involved. So he did.

He didn’t let you answer the man's next question of what you had recently been up to, instead he grabbed hold of the side of your face, his fingers dipping into the nape of your neck as he pulled you into him. He grinned smugly at the worried glance you threw his way before connecting your lips together.

The kiss was hesitant at first.

Taking into account this was your first shared kiss together since the breakup, it felt both natural and unusual to be kissing him again, but as the seconds passed you found yourself relaxing in his hold and began kissing him back with much more force.

You lost yourself in the moment, the idea of your ex boyfriend watching you make out with your other ex boyfriend didn't even cross your mind. You solely focused on the way Sebastian’s lips felt against yours after such a long time apart. He was addicting.

Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, blushing slightly at the sheepish look he threw your exes way. “What were you saying, mate?” he confidently asked.

The feeling of his palm burned against your cheek and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at Brad, but you didn't need to as he just stumbled away, clearly intimidated by Sebastian.

There was no need for you to say anything to Seb - if the way you were teasing him earlier on in the evening was of no indication to how you felt about him - then the lustful look you were giving him now certainly was.

He immediately pulled you back into him, your lips reconnecting in a lustful kiss. With no more awkwardness surrounding the two of you, you found yourself enjoying it even more.

Moving one of his hands down your body, Sebastian forcefully squeezed your bum which emitted a gasp from you, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss. He pressed his body against yours and your hands raked across it, feeling his muscles flex against your hands.

You moaned into his mouth the minute he dug his hips into you, the feeling of his body so close to you bringing you back to when the two of you dated. Confusion filled you when he pulled away, ending your lovely make out session and disappointing you tremendously. “Don't start what you can't finish, love” he warned, leaning down to scatter kisses across your chest, nipping and licking at every exposed area.

“Who says I can't finish this?” you remarked, grinning at the way his eyebrows rose at your statement.

“Look around us, darling” he stood up straighter, craning his neck to glance from side to side, taking into account the multiple people surrounding the two of you. Hundreds of people filled the room, hundreds of eyes that could possibly witness something. Hundreds of reasons why the two of you shouldn't get ahead of yourselves. But then again, when he looked back at you and the playful pout that crossed your features - he found himself making up a hundred different reasons as to why it was such a brilliant idea.

“But then again,” he continued, leaning closer to you in order to whisper in your ear, “that's never stopped us before.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, images flashing through your mind of previous encounters the two of you had in the most inappropriate areas. Cutting your daydream short, Sebastian grabbed hold of your hand and guided you up the stairs to the more secluded vip area.

The bouncer merily glanced at Sebastian before lifting the red velvet rope and letting the two of you in. Nodding a small thanks to the man, he continued his journey into the dimly lit area, a content hum leaving his lips at the sight of a small booth in the corner.

He sat down on the plush seats and you fell down to sit on top of him, the lower half of your body covered by the wooden table in front of you. Sebastian wasted no time in kissing your neck, unable to detach himself from your skin for more than a few moments.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, watching the small group of people ahead of you dancing and laughing at each other caused a blush to quickly creep up your cheeks. The thought if anyone witnessing your antics both embarrassing and exciting you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, liebe?” Seb questioned, he placed his finger on your cheek and forced you to look at him as he spoke. “Because once we start, I won't be able to stop.”

“And why would I ever want you to stop?” you shot back, pressing your bum further into him to prove your point. Sebs eyes scanned the area, having seemingly decided the risk of getting caught was worth it, he ran his fingers up your thigh, under your skirt and into your underwear.

His other hand trailed the opposite direction, moving up your body to gently squeeze your breast. You arched your back at the sensation, your ass moving further into him and a harsh squeeze being delivered as a result.

Slipping a finger into you, his hand flew away from your breast to clamp over your mouth, muffling the sudden moan that escaped you. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. There's people around us,” he reminded.

He littered gentle kisses up your neck and you could feel his smirk against your skin at the shaky breath you let out the minute he slipped a second finger into you. “I don't think anyone else deserves to hear your moans, darling.”

You hummed against his hand, wetness pooling at his words and your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle your clit. “Move up for a second, liebe,” he demanded once he removed his fingers from you. Having no other option but to comply, you braced your hands against the table and stood up on shaky legs. You patiently waited as Sebastain undid his belt, the sound of the metal coming undone bringing a newfound wetness to your core.

“Ready?” he questioned, moving his hand up and down your thigh to comfort you. You nodded your head, biting harshly on your lip, you quickly glanced behind you and yet another shaky breath tumbled from your lips at the sight you beheld.

Sebastain was sprawled across the couch with his dick barely covered by your body. The sight of him shamelessly sitting there did something to you and before you lost your confidence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto him.

“Keep quiet now,” he reminded once you took all of him in. Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you, your knuckles quickie turning white as you used it as leverage to start moving.

The sound of your skin hitting against sebastians was muffled by the laughter of the crowd and the loudness of the msic booming across the grand club. “I'm trying,” you grunted.

You slowly bounced on him, trying to keep your movements small and inconspicuous to the people around you. But Sebastian could only last so long without needing to take over. A moan accidentally escaped you once he began thrusting his own hips upwards to meet yours. In response to your foolishness, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking not so gently on it as a warning and forcing you to look at the dim lights hanging above you instead of the people ahead of you.

Holding onto your body he quickly steadied you, forcing you to halt your movements as a random man walked up to the two of you. You shifted in his hold and attempted to reposition yourself to look more natural towards the stranger. You just wanted it to seem like you were cuddling the driver, not bouncing on his dick.

One of your arms wrapped around his neck while the other laid on his chest. You spared a quick glance downwards, making sure your skirt covered everything before looking back up at the man. Sebastian greeted him, admittedly not poilelty, but he greeted him nevertheless. It only took a few seconds for the two of you to realise he was a fan and by the looks of it, would do anything to hold a conversation with the Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't help but move on his lap, the need for friction overwhelming you after staying put for several minutes. You slowly began rolling your hips, your heart racing at the sudden release of pressure and also at the fact you were grinding on him with a fan of his only a few feet away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying desperately to pay attention to the man in front of him and not on how good you felt clenching around him. His hips unintentionally runted up into you, muttering a quick curse under his breath he grimaced at the man, cutting his sentence short as he gestured towards you. “If you wouldn't mind,” he sympathetically commented.

“Right, right sorry,” he mumbled, “Enjoy your night.”

He soon scrambled away from view and Sebastian began carelessly thrusting into you again. You returned to your original position, now resting your head against the table, thankful for the pleasure filling your whole body. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and were almost certain you looked a mess but you couldn't have cared as you got nearer and nearer to your peak.

This new angle allowed Sebastian to take control of your activities. He guided your hips back and forth, not paying attention to the movement of the table nor the attention that the two of you could possibly bring your way. All he wanted was to bring you to your release. “Are you going to cum for me, darling?” he whispered. You nodded against the table, the coolness of the wood reliving your flushed cheeks as you felt the knot begin to release in your stomach.

You moved your hand to grip onto his thigh, “I'm gonna-” you mumbled, unable to finish your sentence as he gripped onto the back of your neck and forced you to sit up straight. His fingers immediately fell down your throat in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. You whimpered loudly at his show of dominance, your attempts to keep quiet failing profusely as he hurried his movements.

His fingers moved further down your throat as your walls clenched around him. Before you knew it you were spilling yourself against Sebastain. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head and heat filling your body as he followed in your actions.

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[pillsarchive]

THE COATS IN CLOAK ROOMS

RIDDLER (Edward Nashton) x OC (Could also be a reader insert if you ignore the names)

2k words

Summary : 19 year old Victoria Burlesconi really, really hates her parents, and after she's made aware of some strange happenings in Gotham, she realizes she really really loves the riddler.

(Im horrible at summaries, sorry)

Victoria uses she/ they pronouns (if the story takes off and people want me to make alt versions with different pronouns I can totally do that)

Warnings ; Riddler associated violence, mentions of bad parenting (neglect, demeaning language, no physical abuse), Mentions of sex trafficking and abuse of said trafficking victims, Edward is a weirdo creepy stalker man but the reader is also very very strange and neurotic (they are meant for each other - two little freaks).

Victoria had never been much of a TV person. That was one of the things her father always got on her case about - even as a child. "TV is the way we connect with people, honey. If you dont smile for the camera everyone will talk about you badly and you wont make any friends, you'll look homely, doll. All those nice people out there wont talk to you anymore." She remembered him motioning to the press outside the city hall buildings big window and giving her his politician smile. Even then, even at age 8 she knew she hated him and she'd hate him forever. He had never really been a father. She had more of a relationship with the butler that taught her poker than she did with him. He didnt seem to understand that, though. The only time he lamented over their failed relationship was when he came home drunk, some pretty twenty something twisted around him, ready to do what she needed to steal some of the money in his underwear drawer and leave after he fell asleep. She always sort of hoped that one of the girls would take a picture in the act, or after, and it would get out. She always sort of hoped her parents would die.

That was why, when she turned on the TV to see a graphic blurred image of her fathers nude body lying on the bathroom floor, hands bound behind him, head crushed watermelon of a head dunked in his gold tiled bathtub, NO MORE LIES written out across the pale freckled skin of his back - she laughed. This wasnt real. This was a dream. She was having a revenge fantasy, soon her brain would fully flesh out the plot and she'd find out she murdered her parents to avenge herself then she'd wake up.

After two hours of reading through news headlines and looking at pictures she realized this was not the case.

Her mother and father had run some kind of sex trafficking ring connected to the Marone case. Famous men would pay for drops and a girl to take home, then leave. The entire exchange was confidential and only 60% of the girls made it back alive and unmutilated. Being allowed to enact violence on the girl you just bought was a well sought out and paid for TOS point. As Victoria read through the riddlers site she realized just how true it was. Her father was always gone, always with other women, and her mother never seemed to mind. She just stared at the girls he brought in with a look that said "Ill take this out on you later" and smiled placidly. Her parents had sacrificed her childhood, her happiness, her safety, to make blood money selling women like they were pounds of flesh at a butcher shop. Even now, she couldnt cry about it. She couldn't cry because her body didnt let her because her upbringing broke her somehow. Even after she'd gotten away from them they were still making her worse, making her life worse.

She could not cry, so she felt instead. First ; rage. The rage morphed into sadness, sadness for yourself and sadness for the death of the idealized version of them, then - oddly enough - overwhelming happiness.

Gratitude, maybe.

This man, whoever he was, he had done her dirty work. If she'd ever found out about this before their deaths she would have done it herself, put them both down. He took that burden from her.

She felt her eyes water as a smile formed on her face.

After that night she began to watch his streams.

He talked about anything and everything. Unstructured rants, the videos could go on for hours or minutes. Everyday, she sat, she listened, and she thought about him. First, the man that did her a favor. Then, the man that saved her from having to find out about what they did after they were dead of natural causes and she couldn't do anything. Finally, a person angry like her, a person she could relate to, a person ostracized - in need of a friend.

She could be that for him.

Maybe they were both lonely. Cooped up in the studio apartment she'd lived in since her 19th birthday, living off of the money she'd saved up when she was younger, she'd barely been living alone for a year and already she felt like she was beginning to fade into non existence. She couldn't imagine what it was like for the riddler. He didn't talk much about himself, but she'd written down the only information he'd divulged. Single, male, older than 30.

He said he'd never had anyone. Never. That meant that he had been alone for nearly thirty years.

She wondered about his face a lot. Was it sharp, rounded, did he have blond or brown hair? For hours a day she researched and finally she found her break.

A carry out box of chinese food with a blurry number on it, visible for a few seconds in the corner of one of his streams. He got so excited he pounded his fist on the table his phone was resting on and it shook.

He needed to be more careful, you'd tell him that when you two met.

The video was only from a week ago, the 20th of november, so you got to work ordering a fake police badge and getting together a "Composite sketch" - this would be easy.

"Ma'm, does your digital order pad keep a record of who ordered what when? The gcpd has reason to believe that someone very important to a case we're working on ordered here, takeout or delivery we dont know, about a week ago."

The tall womens eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Do you have a name?"

"No mam, that's what we're trying to find out. Unfortunately it's been pretty hard to get information on this one - he's good with computers. This is sort of a last resort."

God, you sounded so phony. You were surprised she was buying it. Then again, she did look old ( a serial police liker, you'd wager).

"Yes, yes, take a look then officer! You said a week ago? Ill just scroll back. Do you have a date?"

"The 20th, before 8 pm."

"Alrighty then....."

She pursed her lips in concentration for a moment, then smiled and presented the tabled to Vic.

"Here you go! Seems like only one person came in on the 20th, we dont usually have many customers sunday."

Name ; Edward Nashton.

Phone ; 212 - 000 - 00

Address ; Gotham Retreat, room 401.

You smiled at the women politely and ended the conversation as quickly as possible.

That wasnt an apartment, it was a hotel.

Edward woke up on the floor.

He didnt like sleeping, sleeping wasn't working and his purpose was his work. Often, this lead to him falling (sometimes literally) asleep anywhere his body deemed necessary. Still, he needed to be sharp if he was going to get anything done today. That meant breakfast, he would make it himself if his stove wasn't covered in rat trap prototypes - but, you know. He'd have to stop by the shitty little diner down the street. Their lattes were awful but they kept him awake and the food was good enough to sort of enjoy. He got up and brushed his fingers through his hair, put on his usual outfit (the same coat, sweatshirt and pants he'd had for years, the fabric seemed to have some special quality that couldn't be replicated, less itchy than every other piece of clothing he owned) and looked through the peep hole before opening the door and walking out.

As soon as he took the first step he fell face first into the carpeted hallway floor.

Quickly he scrambled away from whatever had tripped him before he realized what it was.

A package. Small, dark green wrapping, rectangular and flat - he hadn't ordered anything recently. As he cautiously, slowly inched towards it he realized there was writing on the surface.

A million thoughts rushed through his head and he began to sweat. Someone knew. Someone knew about him and they probably wanted money (thats what everyone in gotham seemed to want), or they were going to blackmail him into killing someone, his plan would be ruined. The thing didnt look like a bomb, at least. He spent most of his waking hours building them, he was well aware of how they worked. If it didnt blow up when he tripped over it that meant it had to be timed, and if it was timed he would be able to hear the mechanisms.

His eyes wide, hands shaky, he picked up the package and briskly walked back inside, to his work desk. Jesus he might vomit. After the wrapping paper was cut off neatly and set aside he picked up an envelope on top of the box.

"Hi!

Im sorry If I scared you, I didnt mean to but I understand the whole gift hand delivered to your door thing is off putting. To make it clear, Im not going to hurt you and I dont want to mess up your "hobby" ;) for you. I just want to meet you - talk. You've done me a great service, helped me in a way ill never be able to adequately thank you for. I want to show my gratitude (And, selfishly, I'd just like to see you face to face. Im a fan of your streams.) Should I find you or should you find me? I'll leave you with a riddle since I know you're a fan of them. Apologies if it isnt very good, ive never written any before.

I am an era but im only 19 years long, I have more than one origin - every one of them gone, all seven parts of me start with an L, you already "know me" through people you fell.

Who am I?"

All of it was written inside an old fashioned halloween seasonal card - dracula latched onto a womens neck, her dress was pink and sheer, the background seemed to be a graveyard setting. It read "Seasons Bleedings!"

He opened the box up and pulled out a light pink Sudoku book ("hardest one I could find" written on the inside cover in the same flowy red cursive), a moleskin notebook, and a pack of candy hearts.

He sat stunned for nearly twenty minutes. Normally he could solve riddles like this easily but his brain couldnt focus on it. He needed food but going outside would only make this worse. People made him nervous.

As he looked up at the cieling and let out a shaky breath he was reminded of something. Something that made him feel safe. Her. He hadnt forgotten about her - no, he thought, that would be impossible. Even in the low quality picture she was beautiful, her hair was long and dark and her skin was pale. She wasnt smiling but the quirk of her lips gave her face a mischievous twinge. He giggled as he remembered the day when he took that Polaroid ; her father had been speaking in front of city hall, talking about increasing police budgets and spending less money on social security programs that "foster a failure oriented mindset" in the people of Gotham. When he'd come up he'd almost been pushing Victoria (the thought of that scumbag touching her made him sick) onto the stage. Her clothing was casual in contrast to the people around her, she wore a velvet shrug and a sweater over a button up tucked into some black corduroy slacks and the whole time she itched her arm nervously, playing with her fingers like she hated the fact that all the people in the audience could see her. Lucky for him, none of them really could do that - see her, really see her. All his, only his. She had a talent, fading into the background came naturally for her - he'd barely seen any articles on her (the ones that were published compared her to bruce wayne, eccentric, never seen outside in anything but all black, recluse. He laughed at the thought of his angel ever being anything like the precious little rich boy hiding away in his tower. ) and the only posts online mentioning her usually turned out to be surface level tiktok videos "Why is no one talking about John Burlesconi's daughter? I mean, look at her 🥵????" or people talking about the art she made. Another thing he adored about her. A gallery artist - he was in awe. She rejected her parents blood money and she used her talent, her own talent and drive, to make something of herself even though the odds of that were a hundred to one living in Gotham. His angel, always remaining above it all and still somehow managing to help people, donating the monthly allowance checks to organizations that really help people, never letting the part of society she grew up in influence her, she was supernatural to him.

Heavenly - giving, beautiful, funny, and (he thought most importantly) smart.

That's why, when he looked down at the letter again, it all made perfect sense.

"Oh - "

He giggled.

"Oh darling, see - this is why I love you."

[rocorambles]

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored. 

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him. 

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him? 

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming. 

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed. 

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps. 

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you. 

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.” 

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him. 

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.    

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind. 

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions. 

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?” 

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing. 

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work. 

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom. 

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end. 

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away. 

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.” 

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again. 

“Stay still.” 

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through. 

“I told you to stay still.” 

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him. 

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-” 

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast. 

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready. 

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you. 

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.” 

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.” 

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker. 

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

[everythingthemoontouches]

💙Hi there! , First of all i want to tell you that i love your blog! And i love how your posts are so accurate!💙 If its okay with you could you please do me a favor by describing how others see me,my appearance or more specifically the vibe I radiate to others! It would mean alot to me if you you do that💙I'm a cancer sun,leo rising,Lilith sextile asc, Pluto trine asc, Uranus opposition asc, Moon opposition asc, mars sextile venus, mars opposition neptune, asteroid lilith conjunct mc and jupiter in the 1st house!💙

Hola!

Thank you that's really kind of you 💛💕

You know that quote that says Cinderella never asked for a prince. All she wanted was a night out and a dress. You kind of exude a similar vibe but with respect to leadership positions. 'I never asked to be Queen/King, but the people have spoken' kind of an energy. You would be equally happy to be by yourself, learning about the subconscious mind, higher realms and other esoteric science.

For more on Jupiter in LEO I'd recommend watching Astrofinesse.

For jupiter in the first there's KRS.

🌻As a Leo rising you come across as someone outgoing, with a playful energy but you're also somehow someone people would expect to see in a position of authority. You're drawn to people who stimulate you intellectually and love to exchange ideas.

😬If you have an Aquarius saturn you could be having some challenges in your relationships since December 2020 as saturn transits your 7th house. I'd suggest practicing discernment in this area as well as signing contracts with people until it passes( early 2023) ..

😇12th house sun could take on other people's energy. I feel like you need some time away, by yourself, preferably at the beach / pool/ shower to declutter, clear your head and replenish your sense of Self. You could be highly intuitive. If this resonates, I'd urge you to look up empath drain and how to protect yourself from energy vampires.

Ruler of the ascendant in the 12th :

spirituality could be a huge part of your life. For some people this could show a father (figure) who was convicted or worked in a prison / asylum. They could also have a really remote job. Since the sun is also your own personal identity, you could profit off these themes. Working in a mental health facility, overseas, in esoteric crafts.

🌛With your moon in the 7th house, you probably attract a lot of older women, (queen of swords) nurturing energies . Your mom could have a major influence on any business partnerships that you enter.

In relationships you could have a here today gone tomorrow kind of a presence. This is because as the moon waxes and wanes so does your attraction / attachment to specific people?

♒Aquarius moon : it could be really hard for you to express your feelings. So Instead of asking for a hug there could be a tendency to say something like ' ew imagine asking for one?' you leave a place better than you found it. If you watch hindi movies, 3 Idiots could be a movie you really resonate with. ( I pretty much spent the day looking up the lead actor, who has major aquarius placements and his films have always been disruptive with a really nice social message that left people talking for years after they were released. I tell you this because he shares 2 of your big 3 - aquarius and cancer.)

Going off on this tangent you could be a well respected teacher / writer / entertainer. Jupiter in LEO could help with this.

I do feel like you need a certain amount of inventiveness in your relationships. The people you're with are people who introduce you to new hobbies / ideas / technologies. You need to feel like you guys learn something new or create something that matters together. This is enhanced by uranus in the 7th house. You could come across really cold because you always give people the naked honest truth when asked. You do this from a place of love. I'm reminded of the Queen of Swords card in the rider Waite tarot. Not everyone has the maturity to take it. Or maybe they've just had a bad day. It is what it is. Perhaps try to not be so incisive if this is something you struggle with.

In the same vein, if I asked you to write down how you were feeling how long would it take for you to identify the right emotion. How honest are you with yourself?

Moon and Uranus being in the same house could show that stagnation could really hurt your mental health / happiness / satisfaction levels.

With a saturn ruled moon I feel like I need to remind you to not be so hard on yourself. Like. The world won't crumble to dust if you allow yourself to take care of you once in a while.there's only so much you can do.

All those coffee mugs will catch up. There's no such thing as extra hours in the day. A lack of sleep manifests as early signs of aging. No hate for the elderly but arthritis is not a fun ailment to have. Do you wanna be 60 with 80 year old nervous system problems? I rest my case.

Uranus and moon aspect your ascendant so you could have a slightly plump look?

Jupiter in the first house people usually have prominent thighs. I had a friend with this placement and when we were growing up she used to complain of chafed thighs a lot?

Mars sextile venus you could be your own type? The way you act and the way you want your future partners to express love could be quite similar which is good for healthy relationships.

There could be a tendency to spend impulsively.

With Mars sextiling venus you could be someone who earns more the more active their lifestyle is? Like, you may need to be an agile learner to keep money flowing in .

Jupiter in LEO in a woman's chart usually shows they'd have a financially well off spouse so money may not be a huge concern. He could be a sailor or earn via exports/ navy. It's hard to say without knowing where your Saturn is.

The image you project to the world could be a lot more outgoing than how you actually feel. You're more private than people think.

With a fire rising, water sun and air moon you could either be a really balanced person or just have a number of clashing ideas on who to be, what to do and achieve.

Descendant : The people that hate on you could attack your need to stand out /try to dim your time in the spotlight. Think aquarius themes of standing out to improve community clashing with Leo's need to stand out solely because it helps their ego. Like your confidence could trigger the part if them that felt judged negatively for expressing their individuality.

Do you feel like you thrive in chaos? I'm guessing you're atleast in your late 20s if not older, so you might have gotten better at dealing with people acting unexpectedly. Your mom could have been unpredictable. Really intelligent, but forgets to eat ..

🥤🦀As a cancer sun, you could be the friend your friends come to for advice. There could be a tendency to be a little too selfless. I think your aqua moon really serves as a shield to those who try to take advantage of your caring nature. Have you considered a career in psychic medium ship? Or any spiritual art/ past life regression / you get the drift..

Is there a family craft or hobby that you could monetize? Jupiter in LEO could signify ancestral gains.

Lilith and Pluto aspects to ascendant can make you come across really sexy / a bit unapproachable because people feel like you have some kind of power that places you above them?

Due to this, people with Pluto / Lilith aspects can feel some kind of hurt around people clearing up the path around them if that makes sense.

Jupiter opposite moon : there could be a clash between you want to do VS what you feel you should be doing.

Jupiter in the first house : you could have been born rich? Or people just perceive you that way. They also see you as someone wordly wise and lucky in general. You could know a lot about a wide variety of things. Specially on topics related to appearance, personal development, image consciousness etc. Since the ruler of the first is in the 12th I feel like some of your wisdom comes from a divine source. Like you're tapping into some kind of a collective reservoir of knowledge. In starseed terminology we would refer to this as downloads.

Jupiter rules the 8th house and 5th house.

So love, romance, games, early education may have been a bit of a breeze for you.

Jupiter is usually a bit of a celibate spiritual person. So, while it may make you really wise with respect to things like the occult / tarot / other 8th house themes, I'm not sure how it would impact your sex life with a spouse. Sex could be either a deeply spiritual experience for you or take on more neptunian traits. Addiction / alcoholism / drug use the works. Jupiter expands the themes of the house it rules so a word of caution there.

Travelling could bring you luck. Or even love.

Did I hear Mars opposite Neptune?

This could be a literal battlefield. You could feel like you need to work for love.if Neptune is unconditional love and Mars is your drive, then you could literally match to get to taht elusive unconditional sense of belonging /love / acceptance. But what are you marching towards really? A mirage? With this aspect I'd really be on the guard against addiction of any kind. Neptune is enticing, alluring, mocking Mars for its need to conquer. It could lend a really nice swagger to your walk. A runway model could benefit from thus placement. At uts best this aspect imbues you with creativity, inspiration, otherworldly imagination and the energy required to turn your abstract ideas of art into something tangible.

Here's a source for more on this placement. Sometimes I find that the comments really help me make sense of my own placements

Toodles

Before I sign off, I just have to say this :please try to restrict asks to 2-3 placements. You can send in multiple asks if you'd like, but answering them all in one ask can get a bit cluttered and I'd hate to miss out on something 😊

Hope this helped 💕as always, I'd really appreciate your feedback on this take on how these placements affect you.

[asexualone]

(pls take the time to read)

Signs I should have known I was aro: Disney edition

I think this topic has been stressed a lot already. But here is my take, anyway.

Of course, romantic love had been, is and will always be one of the main themes in kids' movies. Why, I can never fully understand. I'll explain below how I like other themes more.

Some time ago, I did a post on the kiss/hug scenes in Rapunzel which depicts how much more I value acts of showing love that don't include kissing.

Not only those two. I have a history of hating Disney on-screen smooches. As a kid, I thought, "Well, maybe, I don't like seeing these characters kiss because it's a grownup thing."

Could you blame me? When my parents were in the room and a kissing scene appeared on the screen, they changed the channel. So my toddler brain concluded that the reason I didn't like watching kisses was because I wasn't of age to like it. Or something.

At the time, I had no idea that I was hand-picking my favorite movies by the level of romance they had in. Or lack thereof. And I was a very judgemental kid. Let's go through my original thoughts on some Disney classics.

Snow White — No. Just no. She's a child, fourteen. Marrying an older guy she doesn't even know. After he kisses her corpse. NO.

Cinderella — The age difference is a little better, I guess. So is the age of consent. But they only talked one (1) night and he relied on that slipper to find her instead of asking to meet all women and see for himself. Fairytale logic I guess. I didn't like how she called it love immediately and kissed the prince at least once that same night. Or how they got married immediately.

The Sleeping Beauty — Must I even explain? Aurora didn't even know Philip that much, had only met him once (if you exclude the "dreams"). And yet, he's her true love, the only one who can revive her corpse. Ridiculous. And yes, kissing a comatose body, ew. Also, the arranged marriage trope pisses me off, royalty or not. Aurora was engaged as a newborn baby, come on.

Mulan — Cinematic gold. I didn't know it back then, but the fact that romantic love is such a pushed-aside aspect in this movie gives me life. The songs give me life. Especially when the trio dresses as concubines and "Be a Man" plays in the background. An absolute gem, lmao. The sequel however ruined the story somewhat for me, too much lovey-dovey stuff. I like Mulan more when she's fighting than when she's acting all sappy towards Shang, sorry not sorry.

Peter Pan — Loved it, still do. But I did dislike the mermaids, the image of fangirls who are petty towards other girls. And Pan's brief "relationship" with Tiger Lily was nauseating to me. I couldn't explain it but when Pan blushed at her nose-nuzzling thing, I always pulled a face.

The Princess and the Frog — In my opinion, (remember, always my opinion): Tiana, this hard-working girl who doesn't belong to anyone, was lost to love. Well, not lost. But falling for Naveen in the course of three days? Unrealistic and kinda unnecessary. Sweet, but still. I adored the "relationship" between Ray and Evangeline more. Either way, it's a movie that I enjoyed when love wasn't that prominent on screen.

Aladdin — I love this movie because of the Genie. The relationship between Jasmine and Aladdin is meh. She forgot his face and didn't recognize him until later. Their coming together is a lot like that trope "first guy who treats her right sets the expectations and wins her heart". Usually that's a thing, not only in Disney movies but media in general. The female lead settles for the first guy that treats her right because the bar is that low. A good movie, all in all. Love how Jasmine stands up for herself at least. Not a lot of princesses fight against the objectification of women.

Pocahontas — I used to hate this movie. I didn't sit right with me: the racism in it, the manipulation, the murders. And the romance, yes. Pocahontas fell for the strange man who tickled her curiosity in the span of two days. I also hated how her father just sold her to marry Kocoum like that. I know it's tradition. Heck, that's a tradition that still goes on in my country. Maybe that's why I didn't like seeing it on screen. And Pocahontas doesn't even end up with John Smith. The second movie definitely ruined the story. So yes, she's the first princess who fell for a man in three days, TWICE. Needless to say, only the songs kept me from blacklisting the movie entirely.

The Little Mermaid — I actually loved this movie for some reason. I can't explain why, maybe it was my obsession with mermaids. Yeah, that was probably it. But I was pissed when Ariel exchanged her tail for legs. Not to mention human periods and overall, all the bad in the world, for a man she'd only seen once. As I grew up I realized just how f*cked up that story was: Ariel giving her entire lifestyle, family and identity up for a guy she hadn't even spoken to. I don't know why I loved that movie, alright? Hell I still do a little. The sequel too. Say what you want.

Brave — (I know this is technically Pixar, shut up) Much like the paradox with Ariel, I didn't like this movie. I can't explain it. Maybe because Merida wasn't the typical Disney princess I had been used to seeing. Now though, I ADORE that story. No, it's not because Merida knows archery... Okay, yes maybe a little. I love the aro-arrow word play, alright? Anyway, the way Merida fights against being shipped to a husband like the "tradition" I aforementioned asks her to, has always had my heart, even when I didn't like the movie. The focus on the mother-daughter relationship is special, I love it. Stellar movie.

Tangled — One of my favorite Disney movies, my favorite princess. But her relationship with Eugene.... Well. Again, three days. That's all it takes to fall in love. Classic of Disney. Not only that, but Eugene is literally the first man person Raps has ever since, besides Gothel. The bar is nonexistent for her, she would have fallen for anyone. He lied to her and she still... Well, I won't stress that any longer. Their relationship in the end is sweet, one of the few cases where we are actually shown that they would risk their lives to save each other. Respect that. Mostly, I love her magical hair and Pascal. And the guys of Snuggly Duckling.

Moana — EPIC MOVIE. The story, the culture, the character growth, the plot twist, everything! Loved it at first sight, at second and forever. Even more when I became aware that there's no romance in it. I don't think I need to say more.

Frozen — My opinions on this movie have always been changing, accompanied by mixed feelings. So the relationship between sisters was cute, but Lilo and Stitch made that more realistic. Anna's relationship with Hans, ugh. I think that for a long time I used the fact that he was the antagonist to justify my absolute hate for the way Anna "fell" for him in one evening. Again, Anna sweetheart. This is the first man you've met. The bar is nonexistent for you too. God bless Elsa for forbidding her to marry Hans. And while it's cute to think Elsa as a lesbian, she has aromantic vibes. Sorry not sorry, but she's also a God by the end of Frozen 2. Gods are beyond attraction, I said what I said.

Raya and the Last Dragon — Loved it, still do. Say what you will about "dragon Elsa". Sisu is her own character, and I adore her. And yes, I love the lack of romance in the movie. Make no mistake, I shipped Raya and Namaari from the first moment they smiled at each other. I swear on my name that I paused the movie and screamed, GAYYYY, at the top of my lungs. Luckily, I was home alone. If only Disney directors would do the right fcking thing and give me a queer main couple!! I swear I wouldn't mind the lovey-dovey romance one bit.

Of course, I've left dozens of movies out. This post is already way longer than I wanted it to be. But I think that was enough to make a point.

While I'm not romance-repulsed, seeing animated kisses (and unnecessary relationships) on screen makes me uncomfortable. As a child and as a grownup. It just doesn't sit right with me. Not to mention all these princesses who identify with their princes and specifically their relationships with said princes when they're perfect on their. Wreck it Ralph 2 made them a favor, I think, by making them work together and showing their strengths. Another movie I love.

Friendship just makes an overall better theme to apply to kids shows, my opinion. Family, work, self-discovery, mental health, happiness. These are all better themes to portray in media dedicated for children. Which is, again, my opinion.

And yes, Disney has been getting better. They've fixed the age difference and the age of consent. The female characters no longer depend on the male ones, at least not as often. They understand the assignment, alright. There are still many questionable things about Disney's reputation though, things we all choose to overlook for the sake of the good movies. But who knows? They might change. Hopefully soon we'll also have an obviously queer couple in a movie. Hope dies last.

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa 

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place 

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?” 

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

[sillydreamer]

Hello! O/ I just saw this post of yours and... it's free? If it does: I'd like a headcanon about this image that Beemoov shared today in IG... What type of story I want? I don't know, I'm here to tell you that: Feel free to write anything that your head does about this image and... in that image is Nevra, can you do also for Lance and Leiftan in the future? There's no rush, you can do it with peace of mind n_n

Scenario of the image in episode 7 New Era (Nevra)

Of course I can do this ;3

Let me tell you that I got excited and wrote a scenario instead of a headcanon and also I read it wrong sorry ahhhh, if you want it as a headcanon just say the word and I’ll do it right away! Don’t hesitate to ask!

I'll do the same when Lance and Leiftan images comes in the future (either if the episode comes or when someone publish them in here, I don't have instagram x_x). Anyway, here comes what I think that happened in the image.

Okay seeing this now that I have finished I think that I wrote something quite long hahahaha...I hope that you don’t mind 😅

The stars seemed to dance at the night sky just like the people did below them, Nevra gazed up and found the brilliant dots covering everything until the horizon. Since Huang Hua became leader everything seemed quite normal and everybody was happy. Why couldn't he advance?

He remembered what happened during the last eight years of his life, he discovered people that helped him but now they were gone, he needed to take new responsibilities to protect whoever needed it. The world seemed more like a cold place while everybody danced around him.

"Nevra? Is everything alright?" the voice of Huang Hua interrupted his thoughts and he looked at her. The leader seemed genuinely worried to the point that Nevra felt guilty for being the reason of that.

"Yes, I just feel a little bit tired, that's it" replied Nevra with a low voice. He knew that Huang Hua didn't believe his lie because she sat down right at his side and looked even more concerned.

"I know that there are things that bothers you and are taking space in your mind. It's hard to move on. Let me be clear; I don't want you to act like everything's alright and to ignore what happened eight years ago" her voice always had the power to calm down people, even the vampire felt safe and by looking at those honey eyes he felt like all of the problems could disappear in an instant "But don't forget that there’s things that you can learn in hard situations”

He didn’t answer. That grey eye was passing by every single person in the garden. Each one of them seemed happy and were celebrating with their friends. Why couldn’t he feel the same way?

Nevra sighed heavily and stood up, not having the courage to see Huang Hua’s eyes.

“I’ll think about it. Now I should dance a little” he moved on through the people searching for somebody. He didn’t know what but his legs were moving and his eyes trying to find something. A grip at his shoulder make him turn around and his eyes crossed with a young lady.

The vampire knew her, she was one of the H.Q habitants. They had a few dates and spent some nights together but nothing more. There were not feeling between them and how could it be? Risking himself to get damaged again? 

“Nevra sorry for bothering is just that you seemed...bad” her voice was soft and low. His instinct forgot about whatever it was searching and put all its attention to the lady.

“Nothing unusual, just work and I was searching for fresh air” those words were lies. Nevra felt bad for lying since he hated them but there was no point on worrying others more, he needed to carry with its own weight and problems as he had done for the last years.

“I see...do you want to dance?” she asked almost timidly. Nevra stretched out his hand to grab hers and led both to the dance floor.

This play was a feminine voice followed by a piano and a violin. Nevra was a great dancer since young and he felt the music running through his body but something was feeling wrong. His instinct was telling him to stop and as far a he knew the best option was to follow his inner voice.

Still he didn’t want to leave that poor lady alone so he spend a few more songs dancing with her. His hands grabbed her hips and followed the rhythm of the melody while she looked directly to his face. He looked back but inside of his head the voice begged him to stop, to quit and ran away. “But ran away of what?” He questioned himself while helping that lady to give a spin. The music turned off and this meant that another song was coming by.

“Nevra, are you busy tonight?” again her voice interrupted his thinking. Nevra blinked a few times but didn’t answer. While looking at that lady with yellow eyes he spotted someone else over her shoulder.

Two big purple eyes were looking directly at him, that brown hair was very particular but what surprised him most was the look that Erika gave him; those purple eyes seemed sad but not surprised.

Nevra moved back and looked at the lady that was in front of him, she was waiting for his answer with a bright smile at those beautiful pink lips.

“I-Im sorry...I need do something” Nevra’s voice vacillate for a second. When he looked back at Erika she was gone.

“I understand” the lady whispered and got closer to give Nevra a quick kiss “But promise me that we are going to see each other soon”

After promising that he walked away, back to the H.Q, in there his steps became faster until he was running. Nevra wanted to get away from the world and hide where nobody could ever find him. But again that voice at his brain began speak and told him to think, to not get overwhelmed by the situation.

Before he could question that or even think Nevra found himself front of the crystal room. A few years ago that was his place for meditation; knowing that Valkyon gave his last breath in there, that Erika and Leiftan sacrificed themselves...a lot of hard decisions were taken inside of those walls.

Nevra entered and was received by the pale light of the mineral, nobody was there to bother him and his thoughts. With a calmer step he walked like he was attracted to the light. A heavy sigh left his mouth but it didn’t last long since he heard someone approaching.

That was a public place, by the oracle. How could he expect to have peace in there? His surprise was bigger when Erika’s shape crossed the door and started walking at his direction.

“Hey, leaving early?” she asked with a calm voice, still he could hear that there was a storm behind it. Erika stopped walking to save a few feets between them.

“Not feeling good, that’s it” Nevra excused himself and looked back to the crystal. It’s light had the ability to calm him down and keep his mind-cold, and that was what he needed to most.

The guardian didn’t answer but still the vampire was able to hear the footsteps behind him and when he looked, she was just at his side. But Erika wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes were focused on the crystal, her eyes glowed and she looked impressed.

Her right hand extended to the mineral and touched the cold surface but nothing happened, the silence flood the room until Erika sighed heavily.

“Even if my powers are back, I can’t save everybody. I’m...useless” the words that came out of her lips and her head looked down.

“No you’re not” Nevra’s words came out even without him thinking about it. The guardian looked at him but the vampire regretted that immediately. He wasn’t the best with soft words and all that he could think is on what would Huang Hua say.

No. He wasn’t Huang Hua. He would do it in the Nevra way.

“Look, I know that it’s hard to leave the past behind. Believe me, I spent many night eating my brain thinking why I didn’t do this or that. But... the end I learned that we can’t change the past, we need to move on and think about what we learned with the experience so we don’t commit the same mistakes again”

He was surprised that those words came from him, Nevra felt relieved when the guardian looked at him with a small smile at her lips, happiness was the only emotion that the vampire could feel and he also smiled, forgetting his old emotions.

A soft melody of a violin could be heard on the distance and Nevra looked at the door by instinct. Nobody came.

“Do you want to dance?” the guardian asked breaking the wall between them. The vampire looked back and saw her hand extended at his direction. He grabbed it and lead her to dance at the sound of the melody.

The bodies moved along with the music, Nevra’s fingers touched Erika’s hips while his other hand held hers. They were very close, too close. Nevra step back to give her a spin and then catch her. Erika seemed surprised but again she smiled.

“Looks that you hadn’t loose the style” she joked and straightened to keep moving.

“I’m not that old, you know?” Nevra replied and gave her another spin “Although I have to admit that I used to be faster...”

“I prefer it this way”

Both of the bodies kept moving in perfect synchrony, another instruments joined the violin and this motivated these dance couple. For the first time in seven years Nevra felt free, their foots were able to move across the room and nobody was there to judge, they were just the two of them, sharing a moment.

Erika turned but this time her body moved backwards so her back is against Nevra’s chest, her left arm stretched to grab the vampire’s nape and pull him closer.

“Did you really meant to say that?” Nevra asked while his left hand touched her face “That you prefer it this way?”

“I prefer when you are calmed down like now but...” she stopped for a second and closed her eyes with pain “I can’t stop thinking if this is going to end tonight”

“What do you mean?” even when he was confused his body didn’t move, so didn’t Erika’s. The music could be heard in the distance but the dance stopped.

“I know what you have been doing these years, flirting with more women and then pretending that nothing happened” Erika opened the eyes and they seemed like two amethysts, Nevra was shocked “Is this the same for you?”

Nevra remain silent, that was a question that hadn’t come through his mind. Was her really a one night thing? He remembered all of the adventures that they lived together, how she managed to smile through hard times and how she sacrificed for a world that wasn’t even hers. Giving him and everybody a chance.

Nevra’s hearthbeat increased while Erika’s face still looked at him, he knew what was that feeling. Something that he tried to ignore since she awake. 

“Of course not, you are more than just that” his voice was soft and some pink cheeks could be seen at his face. He pushed away just to grab her chin and look at those soft lips “You are more that I could even imagine”

Erika stepped closer while her eye closed, the vampire did the same and the last thing that he saw was that beautiful face before their lips touched.

His hand hugged her body and pressed her against his shape, Nevra was desperate to feel that warm feeling, sharing it with someone else. Erika’s arms moved through his chest and ended up hugging his back.

That was a moment that both of them hoped to last long, but they needed air and this end up with the kiss but still a smile could seen at their lips.

“Want to try again?” the vampire asked.

The night was only theirs, with other melodies running through the air they kept dancing and whenever they had the chance a fast kiss will appear to be followed with others.

This was definitely longer that I expected, at first I struggled about how to do it but then I heard Edda’s Requirem and gave me the inspiration to write all of this. 

I really imagine these two dancing with that song it just- *chef kisses*

If you hadn’t heard the song it this one.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Hiya 👋 I find it fascinating when people point out stuff about main characters that are brushed over and was I was wondering what’s your top reasons you dislike Alina and what scenes made you dislike her / made no sense.

Well I don't dislike Alina in the show but in the books I do think she is badly written. But here are some things that made the book character less appealing to me than the show.

I think the main one is her complete lack of agency. She very rarely makes any decisions for herself and just seems to go along with what everyone else (mostly male characters) say. There is a problem and instead of Alina being the one to make a decision or think of a solution she is told this is what we are going to do by either, M*l, Nikolai or the apparat. She is pushed around the plot by others actions instead of taking control herself and so often appears more as a puppet than as a commander or influential person in herself. For example in the show Alina is the one who tells M*l that they should seek the stag and kill it for it's amplification powers before the darkling does. Yet in the books this decision isn't hers but M*l's and Alina just goes along with it. There are also several instances where she clearly doesn't agree with the course of action or doesn't want to do something and yet she does it anyway, an example of this is when Nikolai and M*l want to attack the Volcra nest in the fold. She clearly has qualms about it but ends up folding to their will, another example is M*l insisting that once the fold and the darkling are destroyed that they seek a way to remove the amplifier, again this is something Alina doesn't want to do but she agrees with M*l and doesn't tell him her true desire. So what we end up with is a female protagonist who very much seems to be a pawn to the male characters in the book.

Another thing I disliked about the character's storyline is that she was often the victim of men, held captive and used to their advantage and this included one the supposed heroes. The darkling takes her captive twice wanting to use the amplifiers and control her to meet his own goals, Nikolai also at one point takes her captive and only really gives her freedom back to her because she agrees to help him, and the apparat takes her captive so that he can use her to gain religious power over the masses. She also never gets herself out of these situations, she just accepts her situation and waits to be rescued, for others to save her so that they too can use her for their own gain. I find this theme of her either being a victim of men or the pawn of one really worrying.

Another issue with the way she is written which again ties into the two above is that she is made far too dependant on M*l. Not only does she make herself very ill by suppressing her powers to stay with M*l but when her powers are revealed her refusal to let go of her attachment to M*l means that she struggles to master her powers, she becomes physically unable to summon because her refusal to let M*l go. Later in book two and three she spends a lot of time pining after him and getting in arguments about their positions of power. M*l feels useless and resents Alina's new position and power, he wants things to go back to how they were. He really does hold her back in many ways and this really should have been a love that they both grew out of but instead despite it being made obvious that they don't really fit together they both refuse to let the other go which means one or the other has to make sacrifices in order for them to be together. Not only that but Alina often puts M*l's needs, wants and safety above the greater good, rather than save the grisha or other vulnerable people she will safe M*l even going so far as to let 30-40 innocent people die in the fold so that she can save his life. This co-dependant relationship that she has with M*l is very unhealthy and toxic which would be ok if this was recognised within the narrative and then steps were taken to fix it, but instead this relationship is presented as some grand love story despite how damaging it truly is to Alina. In the Tv adaption they show us that Alina can be very happy and actually thrive without M*l in ep 5, its the happiest we ever see her and the most confident, yet she never gets this opportunity in the books.

Alina is also very insecure and jealous and we often see her pitted against other females, in particular Zoya. If there is one thing I really am not a fan of its authors pitting women against women particularly when it is over a man. Throughout all of the books Alina is insecure that Zoya is more beautiful than her and is insecure about her own looks, particularly when is comes to M*l, she is often jealous believing M*l will be turned by other pretty girls instead of him staying loyal to her. She often worries that she won't be good enough as the Sun Summoner and that the people will come to hate her. Again all of this would have been fine if it were limited to just the beginning of her story arc and it was something she overcame, but she never really does. She often comes across as being quite sulky as well. There was this one quote that I kept seeing in the tag that Alina says which is 'I am the Sun Summoner. It gets dark when I say it does.' Obviously before reading the books I kept wondering the circumstances of her saying this. It is a bit of a badass quote so naturally I was imaging all kinds of grand, dramatic scenarios, her shouting it across the battlefield to the darkling, her saying it in a war meeting as they are making plans as a way of instilling hope and confidence in her troops. So you can imagine my disappointment when it is actually said whilst she is lying outside on the ground, sad and feeling sorry for herself. When presented with a problem or a wrench in a plan she doesn't rally her team and try to come up with a solution instead she just sulks which as a reader I found very frustrating. The thing is both Alina and M*l are written as rather realistic teenagers, but the problem is this doesn't fit the world they are living in. They live in a world based off imperial russia and yet the characters do not behave as if they are, instead they act like they are modern day teenagers attending high school with petty jealousy and childhood crushes.

There is also her identity as a grisha and relationship with the grisha. One of the more interesting aspects of the grisha trilogy is the grisha's story, their oppression and their fight to be recognised as human beings and equals. Yet Alina shows very little care for the Grisha. In fact to me it seems like the author just made Alina grisha to serve the plot. Alina is grisha because the narrative needs her to be, they need her to be powerful enough to defeat the villainous darkling and destroy the fold. Instead of striving to improve things for the Grisha Alina supports the monarchy that has spent centuries oppressing them. The moment LB no longer needs Alina to be grisha she is stripped of the identity and the grisha are left in their misery in a world that still hunts, kills and enslaves them.

Alina is also often punished in the narrative by other characters but also by herself. She is often shamed for the attraction she felt towards the darkling and is called things like stupid girl. Not only is she blamed for falling for the darkling's manipulation she is also told she is greedy and power hungry for seeking out the amplifiers and political power. It's a very twisted message that is sent because we are told she is seeking the amplifiers to stop the villain which is a heroic cause and yet we are also told that she is doing out of greed. There seems to be this message that women should not seek power or a change in their position because that means they are greedy and evil.

Then after three books of the protagonist being used as a chess piece by the men in the story she gets one of the worst endings a heroine could. Both Nikolai and M*l get what they want in the end but its at a cost to Alina, Nikolai gets the Ravkan throne and M*l gets the quiet farm life with Alina as his wife. But Alina loses her powers and the position of power she got with them. The two things she explicitly asks for and tells us she desires, her position as general of the second army and her powers/amplifiers. In fact she even tells us in the second book that given a choice she would not give up her powers not even for M*l. Yet that is what happens and worse than that the narrative tells us that she was wrong and greedy for seeking power and influence, they present this ending she gets as a happy one because she gets to spend her life with M*l living a nice normal life. As a reader I found this difficult to except because the character had told us on many occasions that it was not what she wanted, we are shown often how miserable she is without her powers and yet we are expected to believe that this was some wonderful fairytale ending for her when it seems like whilst the men got their happy ever afters it was at the expense of Alina.

There is probably more but before this turns into a full on rant I think it best to leave it here.

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she��s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin. 

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had. 

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. 

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian. 

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain. 

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting. 

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know. 

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying. 

“Konechno.” Of course. 

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again. 

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death. 

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman. 

My father is an arms-dealer. 

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy. 

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t. 

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty. 

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people. 

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly. 

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer. 

“Starik,” I tease. Old man. 

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York. 

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise. 

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase. 

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital. 

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait. 

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details. 

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé. 

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored. 

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him. 

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option. 

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room. 

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature. 

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more. 

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest. 

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name. 

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now. 

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected. 

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello. 

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield. 

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello. 

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction. 

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave. 

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck. 

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys. 

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official. 

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual. 

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it. 

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

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[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing

Wordcount: 1589

“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”

You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.

“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.

“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”

You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.

“Most certainly not me.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”

Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.

“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”

“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.

Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.

“How’s the love life going?”

“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.

“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”

He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.

“Actually, quite the opposite?”

Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.

“What is it?”

You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.

“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”

Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?

“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.

“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”

You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”

“Who said something about fucking?”

You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.

“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.

“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “

“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.

“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”

“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”

“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?

“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”

“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.

“See, I made you laugh”

“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.

“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.

“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”

You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.

“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.

You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.

“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”

But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.

**************************************************************************************

Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?

also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff

PART 2