#( really needs polishing in a lotta ways )

[tierra-paldeana]

// btw my N blog is @/armxnia !!

HOWEVER, bear in mind i've not roleplayed there in a long time, and the blog needs a severe overhaul in a lot of senses (themes, pages rewriting, etc)一 that and if i ever want to go back to rping as him, a replay of BW + BW2 is due LOL i'm not v sure if i'll go back to him in a while tho cause rika takes all my time and it's the muse i have more... well, muse for, but we'll see-

// once again thinking that N and rika would be very good friends... sorry if i sound like a broken record, since they're both muses of mine that share various similarities it's impossible i don't think of them LOL

[ponder-the-orb]

Shades of red

Pairing: Fem Tav/Ascended Astarion, (unnamed tav)

Tags: 18+, smut and angst, biting (whole lotta biting), blood, choking, P in V

Word count: 6K

Summary:

She sees the blood smeared like rouge on his lips as he lifts his head. A beautiful colour. Their colour.

She isn’t sure the last time she hasn’t thought about her life in shades of red: dripping from her hands, hot in her mouth, shining sharp and violent in his eyes.

She looks down at those same eyes now, burning intensely as he works her. There’s an image she hasn’t been able to get out of her mind for a while, more faded than a dream. She’s sure they were softer once, rich like apple skin, fresh as autumn hues. Now if she stares too long it feels like she’s looking down the lit barrel of a cannon.

***

Forever gives one ample time to think. Was the man she once knew ever even real or just another mask to be dropped once 7000 souls had been burned through her eyes?

Read on AO3 or below

How long can eternity truly be? It’s a question that’s been turning in the back of her mind with numbing regularity for a while now. The very idea of time seems to wear away when she has forever at her fingertips, stretching on and on into a grey horizon. It’s not really a concept that exists between the dark walls of the palace anyway. She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here with any more accuracy than guessing the number of pebbles lining the streets of Baldur’s Gate beyond. Years seem to melt past with unknowable speed but the turning of days drag slower than dripping molasses. 

Never is that thought more pressing than the nights Astarion feels charitable enough to acquiesce to audience requests. 

The ballroom is draped in half darkness, his preferred atmosphere for these meetings. Long shadows shift in flickering silence from the high ceiling, the wrought iron candelabra standing stiff as they throw their orange glow over both the polished tile and his quaking guest.

He’s reclined in the throne at the end of the room, the lack of furniture only serving to make the space between him and the visitor seem that much longer. She stands behind him as usual, one hand at her side, the other gripped to the top of the chair just behind the crown of his head. It’s her place - looking every bit the beautiful weapon she’s been polished to be. Cold. Sharp. Sheathed.

Astarion’s head inclines as they continue to speak, a clear sign he’s only half paying attention to whoever this poor soul is. She never needs the details but from a glance she can glean he’s some elven noble who’d drawn the short straw to come and beg at his feet. 

Before, these meetings had almost made her smile. Those with status always wear their fineries like armour but golden threads do little to hide their true nature once they cross this threshold. Tonight is no different. The elf’s words are steady but his eyes shake madly in their sockets, never landing on either of them for too long. 

It’s not exactly surprising. It’s an open secret as to the nature of those who dwell here. Whispers of power, blood and darkness float throughout all of Baldur’s Gate and beyond, working their way into every rotted inn and polished mansion. If the palace is where this elf has ended up then all brighter roads had obviously crumbled under his feet.

She keeps her gaze fixed just over the elf’s head to the door as he continues- something about debts or an ongoing feud. He could have come with tales of great gold dragons circling the palace or a portal ripped open at the centre of the city and she still doubts it would be enough to cause her expression to break. Astarion’s either.

There’s the tiniest sigh from his lips and she instantly draws her gaze back to the pale sweep of his profile. She’d call him beautiful but the word doesn’t taste right when she’s used it to describe the same perfection for Gods-knows how many years now. The only change is the colour of his clothes. Today’s ensemble is wrapped by two grand peacocks, immaculately stitched in scarlet and black. She can’t even say that it’s one of the more resplendent outfits when every garment in his wardrobe is equally fine.

Her own dress matches - naturally.

It only takes a few more seconds before he slightly raises his index finger. The signal that this conversation is decidedly over.

She’s on the elf instantly, her hand slamming clean through his chest to the other side. The rest of his sentence gargles in his throat and his body crumples to the floor in a pathetic heap. Blood pools sticky and savoury from the wound until there’s an almost perfect disc reddening the tiles. Her stomach clenches at the scent. Hunger, ravenous as an unquelled blaze snarls within but she resists the urge to feast. She stares at the gore dripping down her arm instead as she catches her breath.

Astarion’s feet are silent behind her but she sees him approaching in the blood, his own eyes fixed to the spot where her reflection should be.

“Slower than usual. You haven’t been eating,” he comments dryly. It’s not a question.

She keeps staring at her wet hand. It quivers at her overwhelming urge to suck it clean and then the floor. 

“I will when you do. I’m not hungry,” she answers without turning to him. They both know it’s a poor lie. She’d been in a constant state of starving since the second she opened newly reddened eyes, something she’d never quite acclimatised to.

He raises her stained hand to his lips and licks a stripe from her palm to her wrist. He doesn’t tear his eyes from hers as he audibly swallows. She does too but for a decidedly hotter reason.

“Not the finest fare I will admit but it’s better than hunting for whatever wastes are wandering the lower city,” he says calmly, a red drop staining the corner of his mouth like a bloody kiss. “And you know I’d never let that dreck anywhere near your lips.” 

Some nameless spawn shuffles forward and drags the body back into the shadows, their gifted feast for the night. 

Her eyes stay fixed to the smear. She wants to lick it. She wants to bite his lip and taste him properly, drink something that sings for her, something to drown the other thoughts forever clawing at the flat wall of nothingness wrapped around her mind.

His fingers flex harder around her wrist. “What’s the matter?”

She sighs - the question with a thousand answers, and so many of them so so stupid. She wants to leave and see every corner of this Gods-forsaken continent. She wants to stay and never leave their bedchamber. She wants to feast until she rips apart at the seams. She wants to starve and see how far she can push herself as a spawn. She wants more. 

She holds his gaze, waiting for him to relent. 

Above it all, she wants one thing. The one thing that’s slowly pushing her to dull foggy madness as she waits.

“It’s nothing,” she answers softly. She doesn’t want to have this fight again and she’s fairly certain she doesn’t need to answer anyway. His stare is so intense she’s sure it can see through to the very back of her skull. His own expression is as impassive as an ivory mask, perfectly carved and cool. What she’d give to crack through and unspool that beautiful, maniacal mind and understand his whims for just a moment. She’s sure she could once upon a time- a lifetime ago, perhaps when the word lifetime actually meant something.

His tongue suddenly flicks out and catches the drop at the corner of his mouth. Her own tongue mimics the movement behind her teeth, a jealous breath rushing from her nose. She isn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s actually touched her-  perhaps days. Maybe months. She can’t quite remember the number of moons she’d watched rise and fall from the balcony, throwing a dagger in the air and catching it bladeside again and again until it finally left a scar. 

He slides his free hand up her neck and cups the side of her face. “Perhaps I’ve been neglecting you of late,” he murmurs, lightly tracing the contour of her jaw, then her ear until she shivers slightly. It’s a small thing- the sweet reminder of exactly who she is to him. 

His right hand. His treasure. His precious thing. 

She remembers the first time someone had dared question that fact, years back. She’d heard the whisper from the dark of their library- a jovial tone and one far too warm for these halls.

“I guess there’s no thinking blood required, eh?”

She’d ripped the head from the spawn’s shoulders and tossed it towards another before the words had cooled in the air. She almost wishes it was the only time.

He tugs her towards the door, the lights snuffing out with every step as they go. “Come.”

He leads them to the other end of the palace and into her bedchamber. Their bedchamber really though she can’t recall the last time he’d used it… or slept at all. To be fair she hadn’t for at least a few days, exhaustion just another pain she’s found she can put up with.

The room is grand but mostly empty save for the ridiculously huge bed he’d had installed. He’d clawed away anything in the palace left by its former master, even his name forbidden to be said aloud. She’d seen all too many messes left smeared for days on the new carpets when anyone had forgotten that particular rule- a warning few had forgotten since.

Besides a few drapes the only thing she’d added was a painting, the one staring down like a great round eye opposite the bed. Both of them had been captured in a similar pose to when they'd received their unfortunate guest- pale faces stark against the dark backdrop, his hand resting over hers. It's her only real reminder of how she looks or at least some overpaid artist's interpretation of her. She’s as beautiful as temptation itself but it’s hard to imagine such grandeur when her face hardly feels the same. She’ll never age, never wrinkle or shrink but it’s like she can still feel the hands of time slowly pulling more of her away under her skin.

He closes the door and then the distance between them. Even at the same height he still seems to tower over her into infinity like some dark God. She can’t remember if she had any faith before this, but there can’t have been a being divine or otherwise that she’d loved with such fervour. Worshipping with bloody hands and eager parched lips.

“No audience here. Now-” He tilts her chin up, his thumb resting against her bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.”

She feels a lie rolling on her tongue but she can’t quite spit it out. “You know what I want.”

“Say it.”

“Make me a true vampire.”

He releases her face, shaking his head. “Gods. This again.” He doesn’t seem as irked as the last time she’d pressed this, but her gut still twists when he turns away. It’s the same cool brush off as always, the way one would to an errant pet that’s not quite trained yet.

“I really didn’t want to discuss this now,” she admits quietly. Last time her frustration had gotten so loud she’s surprised her voice hadn’t cracked the windows. 

Her fist had instead after he’d stalked away from that conversation.

She takes a risk, palming a hand to his shoulder and slowly turning him back around. “I know you promised. It’s just been so long,” she starts carefully, keeping her eyes to his chest. She cups his other shoulder when he doesn’t pull away, letting herself feel the strength hidden under the dark cloth. “I want to be stronger. For both of us.”

It’s a half truth. She does want it for them- the power being full vampire would give her coupled with his extra gifts would be everything. They could take more, do more, finally see more of the world in bright and dazzling splendour. 

Her lip quirks up at the thought. Perhaps even feel more too.

He sighs and runs his finger over the crest of her hand. “Your strength is already quite the feat to behold. You change any more and you might destroy a wall.” He holds it firm as she starts to step away, his chuckle soft.

“I said that I will. You know that I will. But the timing has to be perfect.” He brushes a stray hair away from her face, winding it around his finger and letting it fall back against her shoulder. “You’ve tasted me enough, you must know being sired by the Ascendent will take a little more preparation than your standard vampire. But when I do, I’ll be able to give you so much more, more than you even have now.” His hand leaves hers to grasp her chin, fingers lightly pressing into both cheeks until she’s pinned under his gaze. “I’ll not waste such a gift on any regular night. It requires proper celebration. And time.” He leans in until each word kisses over her lips in a long low whisper. “Time for me to properly indulge you. Pleasure upon pleasure upon pleasure.”

It’s a heady promise and one she’s heard before. That doesn’t stop it being so easy to let herself sink into the words - the sweetness of such a beautiful tale. 

She closes her eyes, waiting for his kiss. 

He chuckles again when she finally opens them, his smirk perfectly pointed. 

“Until then, you still share in immortality with me. So tell me, what else can I possibly give to you?” He squeezes her face again before releasing her. 

She rubs her cheeks. “You have so many other spawn. They all share it too.”

His hand lashes out and grabs her wrist, a little harder this time. “All this time and you still believe you’re just some spawn? Like the rest of them?” He jerks her closer, folding her into the circle of his arms until their bodies rock together with her every breath. “How many times must we go through this?” 

She clings to the sides of his jacket, pressing back harder.

“Have I extended any of my talents to anyone else?” 

She shakes her head.

“Do I make you do such grunt work?”

“No, but-”

“Then how can you possibly think you’re the same?”

Her answering protest vanishes as he slips a hand under the back of her dress. He curls his fingers over the skin of her waist, cradling her in a way that has something prodding below the surface of her mind, smudged memories too worn to pull into focus.

“You will always be my first. My first spawn. My first thinking blood. The first person I told everything to.” He lightly scrapes his teeth down her neck until she shudders in his arms, the memory quickly disintegrating. “200 years of nothing and I finally had something that was mine. No power on this or any plane is going to take that away from me.” 

He tilts her head back and finally crashes their lips together in a firm, desperate kiss. It’s as messy as a storm - every movement taking more like he’s drawing the remaining life from inside her. She can taste the wine on his breath, the blood on his teeth- tart and rich and maddening. 

Something stirs within her again, something larger and familiar. Even under the fog, she has what feels like aeons of love for this man inside, swelling and gnawing, threatening to burst and consume her whole with its painful teeth. It’s the only feeling she can fathom with any clarity, equal parts sin and sanctity.

 She holds him, her arms clamping round his middle with all the strength she can muster. 

She’d be less than nothing without it, drained to dust. So she’ll let herself be devoured by the pleasures of hell’s flames with a smile on her face and tears on her cheeks.

“You could have anyone,” she breathes against his lips.

She yelps as his hand digs into her thigh and roughly hitches it to his hip.

“I want you,” he murmurs, kissing her again. Satisfaction blooms under her skin as he opens his mouth, her body already on fire for him. She knows it. Of course she knows it. She wanted to hear him say it, hear the words as sweet as a siren’s trill to drag her back to the present.

“But perhaps you need reminding.” He pushes her until the backs of her knees hit the bed. “I will see you living the best life. Even if you won’t take care of yourself, I’m not letting either of us go hungry.” His fingers brush from her face down to her chest, blood from that elf still shining against the fine material. He pinches the fabric and tugs, red smearing over his thumb. 

“What a mess,” he observes quietly.

Before she can apologise, he grabs two fistfuls of the fabric and pulls, tearing it and her undershirt apart until she’s all but nude before him. He turns her and pulls the remains of her outfit from her body, pressing his hand against her bare stomach so her back curves against him. She shivers slightly as his fingers rip through the seams of her underwear and leave her fully naked. He sweeps his hand up over the curves of her torso and slips his thumb into her mouth, the cool taste of the elf’s blood igniting the fires in her stomach.

Her restraint snaps immediately and she sucks, desperate for more. She moans as he adds a second coated finger, the frustration in her gut only matched by the one growing hot and frenzied between her legs.

“That’s it,” he says quietly as she licks them clean. “Don’t deny me. Don’t deny what you are.”

His hand moves from her lips until she feels it close around the sides of her throat, his thumb resting over the twin scars there. Their matching pair he’d said when she’d awoken that first day. She can’t see it in a mirror but she can feel it, still aching like it’s a fresh wet wound.

He touches his mouth to her ear. “No more doubts. You are mine. Say it.”

Her words dry to a sigh as his thumbnail scratches across the hollow of her throat.

He squeezes harder at her silence until she throws her head back against his shoulder.

“Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasps out.

His other hand wanders down her body to cup her breast and she arches into his touch. 

“That’s better,” he whispers, rolling her nipple between his fingers until she keens softly. He pinches harder, drawing a louder gasp, her back slamming back against his torso. 

She presses her free hand to her neck so their joint touch encircles her throat in a makeshift collar. His smile grows against her ear. 

They both know it'll only ever be a symbol. She’ll bow her neck for one without him even having to say, but it’s so much more for him to not need to. Where could she ever run to where he wouldn’t find her? 

Bound in blood and flesh for eternity.

He brushes his mouth down to the base of her neck and bites down hard. White hot pain melts into pleasure as he does it again, his tongue laving over the fresh marks. She moans and grabs the back of his head to press him down harder. The caress of his lips, his tongue- it’s her bloody paradise. She barely registers his hand move from her neck and down over her stomach, seeking its prize. 

He cups her between the legs and her mind starts to spin. He spreads her, her breath hissing between her teeth as he fingers tease a familiar path through her folds, so achingly close to where she needs to be touched.

He holds her upright as he pulls off her neck, kissing the shell of her ear. “Delicious.”

She presses down, grinding her clit against the heat of his palm. He’d mastered the command of her body long ago, what it takes to make her beg, gasp, to drown out any needless thoughts in red wet screams. 

He spins her round, one hand sliding up her spine and leaning her backwards. He lowers his mouth just below her collarbone, lips and teeth dragging further down until he bites again over the swell of her left breast. She moans again at the sensation as his tongue traces over the wound and then against her nipple in a slow circle.

She sees the blood smeared like rouge on his lips as he lifts his head. A beautiful colour. Their colour.

She isn’t sure the last time she hasn’t thought about her life in shades of red: dripping from her hands, hot in her mouth, shining sharp and violent in his eyes.

She looks down at those same eyes now, burning intensely as he works her.

There’s an image she hasn’t been able to get out of her mind for a while, more faded than a dream. She’s sure they were softer once, rich like apple skin, fresh as autumn hues. Now if she stares too long it feels like she’s looking down the lit barrel of a cannon. 

There are other moments too, touches that almost felt tender, maybe even unsure. They’re all wrapped in his same face but somehow different. Different enough for her to wonder if the man she knew before the ascension was even real or just another mask. One he could finally drop when she let 7000 souls burn through her eyes.

She pushes the thought away, angry it could still worm its way back to her when she’s in his arms. She could live long enough to watch the oceans boil and the skies crash down and she’d still stand steadfast as bedrock knowing that she’d never have made any other choice. 

She cradles the back of his head, keeping his lips right above her cold silent heart.

Of course she’d burn the world if it kept him safe. And she’ll stand next to him as king of the ashes knowing there’s nowhere else where her broken parts would ever feel even close to whole.  

A sliver of moonlight cuts through the curtains and over the portrait in front of them. The lacquer shines coldly, Astarion’s painted eyes staring at their bloody pleasure with the unyielding intensity of the sun. The eyes of a killer to so many fools, too scared to look past their scorching surface. She knows better. Knows that the true eyes of a killer watch from next to him, as flat and dull as a red sheet. Numb. Trained. Obedient.

He softly bites her nipple and her fingers tighten in his hair. “Please.”

He languidly moves on to her other breast, sucking and nipping in a sharp tease.

She tugs harder. “Gods, please.”

He lifts off of her with a sinfully wet noise. “You know as well as I that the Gods fear to tread these halls. Not even the divine would dare intrude on a night like this.” He kisses the tip of her nipple, dragging his lips down over the new fresh marks until she groans and shivers. “So, who’s name should you be saying?”

Her hips rock against nothing but cold air. Gods she needs to feel him. Feel something.

“Astarion,” she cries.

He nips harder and pushes her onto the bed below. 

She slides up the sheets, blood from her last meal still splattered around her like a handful of rose petals on the silk. He ignores it, roughly pushing her thighs apart and licking one firm stroke through her folds until her hips arch off the mattress. He does it again, then again, lingering against her clit before twisting and biting the soft flesh of her inner thigh. 

She cries out again. She isn’t sure how many more places he can mark her before she all but melts away from this reality.

She lifts herself onto her forearms as he spreads her wider, swallowing another embarrassingly loud noise as he tongue dips inside her with a shallow thrust. Blood beads from the fresh bite and trickles down the slope of her leg, heading towards his shoulder.

She quickly pulls her thighs away and scrambles towards him.

“Wait.” She wipes his mouth when he looks up, then unlaces his shirt as carefully as she can. His trousers follow so she can finally see him. All of him. 

“Better,” she breathes, tracing the slope of his shoulder. He catches her hand before it can go any further and turns it slowly between his fingers. She expects him to bite again. Her wrist is already dotted with so many tiny marks that she isn’t sure there’s any virgin skin left to taste. The ghost of a blush runs through her instead as he skims his lips from her forearm to her palm, scraping the skin but not letting it break. 

Through half-open eyes she quickly catches his, the way they study the veins on her wrist like the secret to the universe is tangled in them. They’re open wider now, like some gaping red maw. It’s so much. Too much. She blinks and the look is gone, his eyes now closed and his mouth back on hers.

He pushes her down onto the bed and climbs over her. She grabs the back of his head but he quickly pulls her hands away, pinning them above her. She doesn’t resist, letting herself be claimed again as he pushes inside. 

Gods, she needed this. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be wrapped up in darkness and in him. She hooks her feet around the small of his back to pull him deeper, revelling in every near silent breath he pants against her ear. 

He sets their pace. Fast. Fucking her into the mattress below until she’s crying out his name with every precise movement. She gives back in kind, thrusting with him until he finally  releases her wrists to find better purchase by her head. She immediately grabs his back, one hand sliding down and stroking over the familiar ridges of his scars. It’s a jagged reminder of the past, one he refuses to speak of again. As cold as it sounds in her head, she knows why he doesn’t. What power could truly be so impenetrable if people knew he could feel pain once, fear- terror even.

So it stays locked away behind both their mouths, same as anything that ever brought them such sadness. His own kindness in a way, she reasons. Why exhume those parts of the past when they’re much better off laying with the rest of her mortal affairs. Buried.

He moves harder and her nails dig in. She hopes they leave marks, scarlet crescents sore enough that he might feel how deep her own claim to him runs.

She tightens around him, desperate to come. Desperate to pull him with her too. But he stops suddenly, letting her waver on the very edge of that little death. It feels like she’s dancing on some taught cusp, pulled so tight like a bow string and begging to be released.

She reaches down to touch herself but he grabs her hand again. 

“Bad girl,” he whispers in a tone so low it almost pushes her over that edge. He flips her over, clamping his hands over her hips as he pushes back inside. He wastes no time setting a faster rhythm, ramming into her mercilessly until she’s screaming into the silks below, loud enough to drown her doubt and that of every wretched spawn in this place. It’ll only be her. Forever.

His fingers dig in hard enough that she knows there will be a pretty set of inky marks there, painful to the touch for days. The hurt doesn’t matter anyway- not when she knows what true torture feels like. She can still remember the night she was changed, perhaps more vividly than anything else. The way her body snapped and convulsed as every part of her died and then roughly reshaped into something new. Something that was his.

“He’ll ruin you.” 

The warning calls from somewhere dusty in the back of her mind. She can’t quite place where it came from. Probably the same closed door where every half faded image and whispered concern hid and occasionally slipped through when her nights alone were so utterly silent she could almost hear her brain churning. There’s a shadow of a half elf’s face, mismatched eyes, the fading melody of a wizard’s warning. She can’t grab them and pull them into focus, the words buried too far below the surface of her mind. 

She turns her face into the silks as if she could rub the thought away. Perhaps she’s scared to dig too deep and remember what it is she might have wanted before every moment was about their shared dream. Bright and bloody and beautiful.

Astarion’s hand finds her clit and everything else melts away. There’s nothing else now, just their sweat on the sheets and the discordant slap of his body on hers.

So let them sin, feast, burn. She’s already ruined anyway - punctured with so many holes that whatever there was of her mortal life had trickled out long ago.

She finally comes against his hand and collapses in a sticky, spent heap under him. He slowly traces his finger down the length of her spine as she catches her breath, every inch of her body heavy and useless. She barely registers herself being heaved into his lap, her head falling against his shoulder with a gentle thud. 

The haze of her orgasm parts a little when she smells something fresh above her. Blood, his blood. It starts to drip in a slow mess over her mouth like thick hot rain. Her body moves on pure instinct, surging up to clamp down on his cut forearm, but he holds her steady by her hair. She swallows the offering, her hunger only growing at the tease of something so decadent. He guides her head back further, letting a few more drops fall messily over her face before finally lowering it to her waiting mouth. 

He doesn’t flinch as she drinks desperately. It’s exquisite, like cool wine to her parched throat. She’s sure she could drink him dry or until her stomach bursts open and she’d still not be satisfied. She sucks harder, flitting her gaze up to his as he watches with clear amusement. There’s still one more thing she wants. One thing she’s not sure he’d ever let her do even if she still had a soul to offer him. She wants to sink her own fangs into his neck, the one place she never has. She wants to cover those ugly punctures just for her own pleasure. 

“I love you,” she whispers as he pulls back. It might be these moments when such love swells the most: clothes shed, scratches still fresh on his skin, hair curling out of place against his forehead- a reminder that the ritual can’t keep him quite so perfect for every moment of forever.

He wipes the remaining blood from her lips, his thumb resting there a moment longer. “And I adore you, terribly.”

She narrows her eyes and digs her nails in harder, enough to draw blood. “Say it properly. Say it.”

He raises an eyebrow, but his smile doesn’t waver. He presses his arms back to her mouth, squeezing the back of her head as she sucks again. “I love you.”

She bites down harder at the words. They’re what she wants and yet she doesn’t understand why it doesn’t feel like enough. The fog in her mind clears a little as her hunger quietens but she can’t think of even a moment when something was enough for either of them. They have almost everything this realm could offer and it still feels the same. 

How big will the pile of gold and corpses need to be before either of them can remember what joy actually tastes like?

He pulls his arms away and kisses her again, slower this time. She keeps her eyes closed as he stops, trying to centre herself.

“Are we bad people?” she murmurs.

He drops her from his lap, eyeing her curiously. “My, what a question.” He looks past her to the mirror on the bedside table, brushing his fingers through the mess she’d made of his hair. “Good and bad are such trivial concepts to us. Darling, you need to think bigger than that. We are everything. Beyond such unimaginative definitions.”

“Right.” She pulls the sheet over her torso. The room feels colder somehow, like the darkness itself is judging her nakedness. 

“None of that,” he says, rubbing her cheek. “Besides, thanks to me you’ve become one of the finest killers, dead or alive. Nothing can stand in our way.”

“The only one who could kill you I suppose,” she mumbles, leaning into the touch.

He quickly nips her chin, then her throat. “Oh my love. Now that’s something I’d like to see.” He pushes her back down and crawls over her, sliding his hands over both of hers. “So tell me, how would you do it? How would you defeat the most powerful being alive?”

“Who else could get close enough?” She leans up and kisses directly over his heart. “One thrust with the right weapon is all it would take.” 

“And then what would you do? You’re mine- always.” He moves a fraction more until his legs trap her thighs, the hands so gently wrapped around hers now pinning them into the mattress. “No direction. No love. No power. Without me your life would be a shadowed path. Pure nothingness.” Every word wraps around her like velvet, his hands the softest chains she could be caught in. “You must know it hurts me to even think of you like that,” he continues, dipping down and running his nose against hers.

He squeezes her hands harder as he does, walking her along the very edge of pain before letting go. She flexes her limbs slightly, letting the soreness settle along with her mind.

He kisses her forehead, each wrist then her lips again. “But we need not worry about such awful things.”

She cradles the back of his neck, idly wondering just how hard she’d have to press to snap it. “Of course not.”

His eyes drift up and down her body as she answers, before his hand works its way between her legs again. She lets him, her hips bucking with needle-sharp pleasure as he presses against her over-sensitive clit. 

“Until the world falls down,” she says, throwing her head back and grinding her core against his fingers. 

He leans forward and muffles her exhausted moans with shining, brazen lips. “And even after that.”

Perhaps that’s how long eternity is, she thinks and surrenders herself to him again.

It’s almost dawn when he rolls away from her. He leaves a promise of tonight against her shoulder as she stares at the ceiling, thinking in circles. 

One day, when she finally drives a stake through his chest, she’ll weep. He’s more than everything to her, his arms as tight as a cage, as comforting as salvation. The only person with a heart as black and silent as hers and yet she’d still rip it out and give it to him on a sharpened skewer if he asked. 

It’ll break her, but it's still her task and hers alone. One she can do with deliberate and devoted hands, away from any angry mob or pack of ravenous spawn.

She surges up and captures his lips before he goes, kissing with every ounce of passion still warm inside her.

Until then they’ll stay like this, wrapped and writhing in bloody matrimony. Frozen. Perfect.

Red.

***

I'm mainly bummed I couldn't work out a way to get him to turn into a bat during this. Perhaps another time...

[marcusrobertobaq]

ANDROIDS AIN'T HOT

Yes, it's exactly what u thinking. Actually looking the infrared they're kinda... cold, for a human ofc. The blue, cyan and green range should mean around 18°C~25°C depending on what they're using for. In this case is for detecting androids (based on humans temperature):

Androids won't show red, orange and yellow spots cuz, well, they're cold. In this case ain't only bout the surface but also the whole thing. Their "mass(?)" ain't hot overall cuz they ain't organic.

But now I wanna talk about internal components. I don't know much about 'em architecture and engineering besides CPU instruction/sec to know how much heat the processor produces, but i think they got this part of kinda under control, it's 2038 after all.

Androids don't seem to suffer from overheat that much even under stress (like deviancy process for example) so i think 'em shit got heat control in mind overall, i mean, they're kinda complex androids, in both software and hardware sense, and got lotta functions - I bet their program is polished enough to be efficient and take less power as possible. U need think about these things when u got a CPU faster than light speed - u need a way of producing less heat as possible and got a good dissipation method in case shit's get above the average.

U also needa think how much electricity u gonna need to power everything but ain't what I'm talking about here but this is also relates to heat.

And this thirium thing must be big deal in less heat production too. I bet if u could get an infrared scan inside these androids, especially in the head and thirium cables ends, would be colder than u think it is. Obviously the infrared gonna show orange and yellow spots where we got electrical contact cuz it produces heat but I think wouldn't be something exaggerated. They also probably got a decent cooler system.

It's canon, at least for Markus, they can raise the body temperature at will and overheat, catch on fire. I honestly don't know how in the game but my bet is he stress his CPU causing a disbalance in the electrical energy, and as thirium is a conductor this high amount of electricity flows to other components contacts and it overheats too. It should catch on fire first in weaker places, places ain't got much "protection" related to this thing, like limbs for example (it's what happens).

Does it ring any bell? Yes, self-destruction method. By overheating u gonna be destroying not only the surface but your internal components. You're literally frying your core and melting everything. It's just..."impossible" to fix. Everything is ruined. It's a good tactic that could be use in soldier androids - actually I think it comes from military stuff.

So yea, ladies and gentlemen. Forget about the soft and warm touches in your NSFW. Unless u really wanna get human in your thing they'll hafta raise 'em temperature. Ain't something good to an android that's supposed to be cool, bad things can happen. But if it's a controlled situation, well 🤷🏾‍♂️

For u to really overheat your android gotta be an input outta this world.

[friend-or-fo]

hi!! can i get some dr teeth headcanons for a relationship with mutual admiration? 💚

Sorry I didn't see this before, dude, (/gen) I don't know how long this ask has been in here but I'm certainly hyped to see it! My hyperfix on the Muppets has been super strong lately, so you asked at a great time! I love Dr. Teeth but I don't know him as well as the other Muppets... really need to see the Disney+ Muppet Mayhem show... but in the meantime I can definitely rustle up something for you ^u^

Dr. Teeth x GN reader with mutual admiration 💚

As the resident band of the Muppet Theatre, Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem are always working on something new and exciting for each show. You can't help but gaze in awe at the group's leading man as he sings his heart out, hammering the keys with passion and energy.

Of course, as the band's sound engineer, you have an intimate relationship with each of the Mayhem's members, but Dr. Teeth and you are by far the closest. He gives you his innovative, wildly creative arrangements, and you give them expansive, gorgeous dynamics, adjusting each sound channel until every instrument and voice is perfectly balanced.

Your hard work doesn't go unnoticed. Dr. Teeth can hear what he wants his songs to sound like in his head, but the way you polish them up is beyond even his imagination. And your gorgeous smile when everything comes together doesn't hurt, either. He hams it up for you, really, putting on his best performance, even if it's just rehearsals.

After one show, Dr. Teeth comes up to you and gives you a hearty pat on the back, laughing in his raspy voice.

"That was a serendipitious symphony of seismic proportions, (Y/N). Thanks for all you do. This wouldn't be possible without ya, you know?"

You insist this wouldn't be possible without him- and everyone else, you quickly add with a blush- that the Electric Mayhem's the guys who make all the magic happen.

He shakes his head with a toothy grin. "Whoever said you weren't part of the group? You are, in my book."

Blushing even harder now, you ask if he's joking.

"...I've got a lotta faith in you. Have a little faith in me, too. I wouldn't let you down, kid."

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 17: Coming Clean

Prev - Coming Clean - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Roman, Logan, and the boys go to see Spider-Man WC: 3764 - Rated: G - CW: minor injury and a lotta fluff

Secrets collecting dust, but never forget Skeletons come to life in my closet I've found out what it takes to be a man Well, Mom and Dad'll never understand What's happening to me? - Coming Clean, by Green Day (cover by Ezra Furman) -

Laughter from the kitchen seeped under the door when Remy turned off the shower, Jacinta’s higher giggle layering with Emile’s deep belly laugh. He scrubbed a towel over his hair, grinning. He loved to hear them together. It wasn’t that he’d ever actually expected them not to get along, it was just… nice to get to overhear it sometimes.

He and Jacinta had been friends for years and she’d supported him—and nudged him—every single time he’d needed a shoulder to cry on or a sharp kick in the ass to get his life together. Without her he never would’ve gotten to Westen, never would’ve even met Emile, let alone had the courage to talk to him. And Emile?

Emile was his everything. He carefully dried and polished his engagement ring, smiling at the way it sparkled under the heat lamp. He stared at it for a long time, his other hand coming up to the chain around his neck. After the way Roman had immediately clocked their matching rings, despite the way they wore them on different fingers, Remy had started wearing his ring on his neck whenever there was a chance of bumping into his dad.

But not this time. He grinned again and got dressed, keeping his engagement ring on his left hand where it belonged.

By the time he’d gotten downstairs, another voice had joined the mix and he clapped his brother on the back before hugging Jacinta. “Virge, I would’ve picked you up,” he said. “You didn’t have to walk all the way over from North Campus.”

“It’s nice out,” he shrugged. “I think some bossy older brother told me I needed more vitamin D, anyway.”

Laughing, Emile pressed a mocha into his hands. “I think he’s got you there.” Emile’s hand lingered over Remy’s left, fingertips tracing his ring. “You’re wearing it,” he murmured.

Remy nodded and brushed a small kiss near his ear. “About time, isn’t it?”

“I still think you’re worried about nothing,” Virgil butted in and levered himself up on the counter before taking a too-big bite of one the homemade orejas Jacinta had brought. “He’s not Mom.” He washed down another bite before laughing. “Besides, you saw him with Ro…” He winked at Emile. “You two can double date.”

“That’s what I said!” Emile laughed, hugging him from the side.

Remy frowned at his coffee. “You really think he likes Roman?”

“You think he doesn’t?”

Remy looked around the room, searching for an ally. All three faces turned toward him, incredulous. He sighed. Even outnumbered, he would not bank so much on a guess. “What makes you think he likes him? Dad’s not gay… I mean… He’s never said anything…”

“Neither have you,” Jacinta reminded him, lacing up her ass-kicking boots.

Virgil poked around in the tupperware and pulled out another giant pastry. “How long exactly did Dad keep on about Ro after their ‘visit’ to the theatre?”

“You’re holdin’ out on me!” Jacinta’s jaw dropped. “Roman Prince took your dad to the theatre?”

“See,” Virgil smirked. “Jacinta gets it.”

“They were… they were just talking about the Shakespeare Summer and—”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “And it was all ‘Roman’s doing this, Roman’s doing that, and ‘Oh, did I tell you the funny thing Roman said on the way home?’”

Jacinta laughed and hip checked Emile as she picked an orejas for herself. “He sounds just like the two of you.”

Virgil high fived her. “Exactly.”

Remy looked back at Emile, his fiancee’s eyes still bright with the discovery that he wasn’t going to hide his ring when he went to see his dad. He nodded. “I’ll tell him today.” Emile grinned and the tears in his eyes squeezed Remy’s heart. “I’m gonna tell him everything,” he whispered and cupped his cheek. “Thank you,” he added, leaning in for a soft kiss.

“For what?” Emile whispered back, cheeks an adorable pink that almost matched his hair.

“For giving me time.” He kissed him again. “I love you, Babe.”

“Alright, alright, get a room,” Virgil laughed.

Remy turned, one arm still looped around Emile’s waist. “You’re in our house.”

“Eh, semantics,” Jacinta giggled and let out a little whoop when Emile dipped Remy to return his kiss.

~

“Dad? Pat?” Remy called from the doorway. “We’re here!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Dad’s voice was hard to hear over the sound of the sink and the dishwasher. “We’re just a little behind schedule.”

“Hey, Virge,” Patton hung half-way over the bannister. “Can I borrow your old Spider-Man costume? Mine’s too small.”

“Well, yeah, Pat,” Virgil laughed, giving Dad a quick hug before racing up the stairs. “You’ve grown like a foot since you last wore it.”

“‘Trust me,’” Patton laughed, dropping his voice and putting on a heavy Brooklyn accent. “‘It doesn’t always fit.’”

Laughing, Dad gave him a hug and beckoned him into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? We had burritos for lunch. All the toppings are in the fridge.”

“Nah, we’re good. We got sandwiches at Wood’s for the car ride down.” He picked up a towel to start to dry the hand-washed dishes in the drainer. “Gotta save room for popcorn and Mike and Ikes.”

“Very true,” Dad chuckled and continued rinsing the soapy dishes in the basin.

Remy diligently dried the saucepan in his hands before putting it away, and he imagined every glint of the ring on his hand lit up the room like a disco ball. He was pretty sure Dad hadn’t noticed it, yet. “So, um, is Ro here yet?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he nodded, smiling and looking out the window, scanning the street outside like he might catch a glimpse of him approaching the house. Shit, maybe Virge really was right. Of course, Remy knew Ro had feelings. His heart was big enough to see from space, but Dad? Huh.

“He’s really excited,” Dad added, voice a little lower now. “It means a lot to him, I think, that you included him.”

“Of course,” Remy grinned. “Ro’s awesome! And…” He kept his eyes on the cheese grater, carefully drying between each little divot. “It seems like he really makes you happy, too.”

“Of—of course. He’s… it’s…” A sudsy glass slipped from Dad’s hand but he caught it before it hit the sink. He cleared his throat. “It’s really nice to reconnect. And you know, we… we have a lot of shared interests.”

Remy snuck a glance and Dad’s cheeks were bright red. He grinned down at the bone dry grater and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah you do.” 

He’d just put away the grater when the doorbell rang. Dad jumped, then swore under his breath. “Dad?”

“Sorry. It’s just a nick,” he said, rinsing a knife with one hand and setting it point down in the drainer before turning off the water. “Would you, ah,” he looked over his shoulder. “Would you answer the door?”

“Yeah, of course, Dad.” He moved to the hall and called up the stairs as he passed. “Hey, guys, Ro’s here!”

“‘You can’t rush art!’” Pat called back and Remy shook his head, laughing. 

He opened the door and grinned. “Ro! Just in time!” he laughed. “No-one’s ready.”

“Perfect!” Ro cheered, laughing with him. He opened his arm in a gentle invitation, and Remy hugged him, patting his back. “Dad’s been looking forward to this,” he whispered, pulling back with a little wink. 

“Yeah?” he whispered back, a mix of hope and nervousness washing over his expression.

“Oh, yeah,” Remy nodded, ushering Ro inside and gesturing down the hall. “He’s in the kitchen.” 

Still smiling, he toed off his shoes and walked inside, but stopped short. “Lo?”

“My apologies,” Dad murmured, his voice a little strained. Remy peered around Ro to see. He stood by the sink, a kitchen towel squeezed around his hand. “I tried to catch a knife as it fell and, well…” He tried to laugh. “One should not try that at home.”

Ro put down the small shopping bag he carried and approached him, hands open. “May I?” Dad nodded and Remy moved in closer, watching as Ro peeled back the towel. Blood welled from a two-inch cut below his thumb.

“Dad!” 

“I’ll be alright, Rem. It’s okay,” he murmured, nodding. “Just need some butterfly bandages. They’re in the kit,” he looked up at Ro. “It’s…”

He smiled. “Mm-hm, under the sink.” Ro walked Dad over to a chair, and helped him sit, elbow resting on the table with his injured hand held higher than his heart. Then he got the old first aid kit. Remy stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen and stared, eyes torn between the growing red spot on the towel wrapped around Dad’s hand and the twitch in his jaw. “Are you sure you don’t want stitches, Dad? Evergreen’s fast and it’s just up the street.” 

Dad’s voice, strained and shaky, but despite his watery eyes, somehow calm. His jaw was clenched, lips trembling, but he wasn’t angry… just… Just hurting. “No, Rem, Mom’s right.” Dad put his keys back in his pocket and looked down at his hand. His fingers were swollen and they curled funny against his palm. “I will be fine. I can take care of this here at home. I just need some ice and it’ll heal right up.”

He smiled, thin and tight, but warm, and he crouched down to look him in the eye. “Thank you for looking out for me. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry, Rem.” Dad nodded and pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing him tightly even as he felt his dad’s hand shake against his back. “You’re a good kid. Why don’t you go blow more bubbles with Virge outside? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready? Okay?”

Dad’s eyes met his and he nodded as though he could read his mind. “The butterfly bandages will work for this, Rem. It’s… it really is okay.”

Remy watched the concern on Ro’s face, his gentle hands as he dabbed at Dad’s cut with a piece of alcohol-soaked gauze. 

“Sorry for the sting,” Ro murmured and blew against the cut, eyes up and watching his reactions. Dad’s face relaxed, the tremor in his jaw nearly gone.

Remy smiled. “Yeah,” he nodded and crouched next to his chair to hug him. “Yeah, I know, Dad.” He watched Roman oh-so-carefully apply the first butterfly bandage on his hand, then gave Dad another little side hug. “I’ll finish up the dishes.”

“Oh… thank you, Rem,” Dad said.

“No more knife catching for you, Mister,” Ro joked, eyes worried over his smile.

“Damn, there goes my career in the circus,” Dad deadpanned.

That pulled a little laugh from Ro, and Remy didn’t miss the way Dad’s other hand rested close to his as he worked on the wound. “I suppose you’ll be forced to fall back on that law practice now.” Ro placed another strip then laughed again. “Oh, but there’s always the trapeze.”

~

Even with all the distractions—and the Friendly Neighborhood Cosplayers needing ‘five more minutes’ for a half an hour, by some miracle, they made it to the theatre in enough time to buy popcorn before the movie started. There was a short line, and as Patton and Virgil dragged Ro off to the mini-arcade at the other side of the lobby, Ro reached back and waved, calling to them. Well, definitely calling to Dad.

“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow!’” He winked, laughing as Patton groaned at his dramatics. “‘That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’” He shrugged and gestured around the lobby. “Or at least until we finish a round of Out Run!”

Laughing, Remy stuck by Dad’s left side, ready to manage the treats to make sure he rested his hand. As they waited in line, they watched the trio’s antics. Finally, Patton and Virgil flipped a coin for who would play against Ro first.

“That’s alright,” Patton laughed, perched between the racing seats when Virgil got heads. “You need to warm up before you go head to head with me, anyway!”

“Hmm,” Ro grinned. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”

Meanwhile, Virgil tapped through the countdown and floored the accelerator. “Enough trash talk, let’s go!”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to pry them away from the arcade when it’s time for the movie?” Dad asked, laughter in his voice.

“It’ll be easy,” Remy grinned. “You pull Ro away and the other two’ll follow.”

Popcorn, candies, and drinks in hand, it took one more quick round of finagling the gamers before they settled in their seats. Patton swooped in to sit between Dad and Ro, and Virgil sat on Ro’s other side. Remy sat at Dad’s left, but leaned over and tapped Patton’s knee. “Pat,” he whispered. “Don’t you think—”

“It’s starting, it’s starting!” he wiggled in his seat, grabbing each of the adults’ hands and staring at the screen. Dad chuckled and kissed his head like he was five again before he settled in his seat and smiled at Remy.

“Thanks for all your help this afternoon,” he whispered.

“Anytime, Dad. Mike and Ike?”

~

The movie… damn. The movie hit a little close to home.

Sitting next to his dad, Remy leaned forward each time Miles almost told his parents the truth. At least once, he felt Ro’s eyes glancing over at him. He wasn’t just imagining the parallels. And Dad?

When Miles’ mom fixed his coat and talked about how nothing could make her stop loving him, and how she wanted the world to love him and care for him, too, he swore he heard Dad sniffling. He reached past Ro and patted Virgil’s shoulder, then kissed Pat’s head again. As he leaned, Remy leaned with him, head resting on Dad’s shoulder. Then Dad tilted his head, too, cheek pressed against the top of his head the way he did when he was little.

Later in the movie, he must’ve gasped when Miles finally told his mom and she just laughed, because Dad squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. Watch,” he whispered, just before Remy realized it, too.

“Oh, no…” he whispered back, turning up to look at his dad.

“Yeah…” he nodded.

~

As the last of the credits scrolled up the screen, Pat recited the fiction disclaimer and Ro joined in at the end, each of them putting on their most serious announcer voices. “‘And any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.’”

“God, I hope so,” Virge muttered, laughing under his breath.

“Can we see it again?” Patton sat crouched on his seat, pressing the tilt and forward buttons so he rocked back and forth. “And when does the next one come out?”

“I think we’ve got a couple years to wait for the third installment,” Dad laughed, checking their seats for anything they might have dropped. “We waited a long time for this one, we can do it again,” he added, ruffling Pat’s hair when he pouted.

“Yeah, weren’t you still in diapers when the first one came out?”

“Was not!” Pat retorted. “Besides, you wanna admit you lost Out Run to a diaper baby? Dad,” he tugged his sleeve, leaping to his feet. “Can we go see if the game is free?”

“Go for it, we’ll catch up,” he nodded, patting his pockets before grabbing an empty candy box someone—probably Pat—left behind.

Ro caught his eye, eyebrows raised. “No time like now to tell him…” he quickly signed while Dad was looking away.

Remy nodded and Ro brushed his hand on Dad’s arm, just shy of his hand. “I’ll  make sure they keep it down to a low roar.” They both laughed when Patton’s voice carried from the open theatre door.

“You do like a challenge,” Dad shook his head, still laughing as Ro moved down the aisle to intercept the friendly war between his younger brothers.

Ro bowed with a smile. “‘Dream in light years,’” he said, giving them one more wave.

“‘And challenge miles,’” Dad murmured. Ro caught it, though, and beamed as he slipped away to follow Pat and Virgil. Remy shook his head, grinning. For once, he’d be glad to admit his little brother had been right.

They walked quietly through the theatre. Now that they were properly alone and Remy had Dad’s complete and undivided attention, he… he didn’t know how to start. Hey, Dad, I’ve been lying to you for years and I’m about to marry my ‘roommate.’

Dad seemed to sense he had something to say, though, and he gave him time to think, glancing over every now and then with a little smile.

“How’s your hand?” Remy asked, stalling, hoping for some miracle segway that would make this easier.

“Not bad,” he nodded, showing how the bandage still held, the white gauze beneath clear of any seepage.

“That’s good.”

~

“Hey, wanna play?” Pat asked when they approached.

“Oh, next time, Pat,” Dad said, ruffling his hair. But then he looked right at Remy. 

Yeah, he knows I wanna talk to him.

“I should save my hands for our car. In fact…” Now that they were out of the actual auditorium, they heard how the soft drizzle that had dampened the ground as they’d come in had developed into a pounding torrent. “I’ll go bring the car around. Save you all a dash through the rain. You enjoy,” he nodded and stepped away.

“Oh,” Pat grinned and tugged Remy’s hand closer to the arcade game. “You should have a turn. I’ll go with you, Dad!”

“Hey, Pat?” Remy touched his shoulder and met his youngest brother’s eyes. “Kristoff to Anna at the end of Olaf’s song,” he said, nodding slowly.

Pat blinked up at him, then his face bloomed in a smile. He flung both arms around him and squeezed until Remy thought he’d never breathe again. “Okay,” he laughed, then turned to Virgil and Roman. “Who’s ready to challenge the reigning champion?”

Smiling, Dad had watched their exchange, then once they were out of earshot, he bumped his shoulder. “So… what are you gonna tell me?”

“Not exactly Enigma-level encryption there, huh?” Remy laughed.

He shook his head, smiling. “Not to those of use with the power of Turingery.”

“Funny you should say that,” Remy nodded, pushing open the door. The rain poured down in buckets, but there was a dry bench off to one side under the theatre’s big awning. “Can we sit for a little while? I… I do have something to tell you.”

Dad sat down sideways on the bench, one arm leaning over the backrest and his bent leg hooked under the other, just like he used to when reading them stories on the couch. Remy wasn’t sure how much of that was on purpose, but it made him feel younger, safe.

“Not to steal Pat’s trick, but,” Dad smiled and held his hand. “‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’”

“Yeah,” Remy whispered. And suddenly, he really did know. “Dad, I…” He turned his hand over, the quartz and onyx ring bright under the theatre’s marquee lights. “Dad, this…” He squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out, “This is an engagement ring.”

Dad didn’t say anything at first, and Remy cracked open one eye. Dad’s mouth hung open, but he was smiling. “You’re… you’re getting married?” he whispered.

Remy nodded. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say first. He watched his dad’s eyes, dreading that stupid fucking Hallmark channel question, ‘So who’s the lucky girl?’

“Oh, Rem, that’s wonderful!” Dad pulled him into a hug. His voice was thick and his breath hitched like he might cry but when he pulled back, he was still smiling. “So… who’s your fiancee?” He searched his eyes and Remy’s heart clenched. He could practically see the calculations behind his gaze, his dad shuffling through each friend of his and wondering. “Have I met them?”

Then it was Remy’s jaw that dropped. ‘Them?’ Not ‘her?’

He nodded again, throat dry and all words just… gone. Dad looked closer at his ring and his smile went a little crooked. Head tilted to one side, he traced the pink and black design, then gently fluffed the streak of pink in his hair. “Is it just a coincidence that your housemate Emile has a ring that looks a lot like this one?”

Remy shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off his dad. “We’re… we’re getting married next year.”

Dad’s eyes filled with tears then, and his smile faltered, but he pulled him into another hug. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered. “So, so happy.” He squeezed even tighter, rubbing the back of his head. He pulled back a little, still holding him, but meeting his eyes for a moment before drawing him close again. 

“And I’m so, so sorry I ever let you think you had to hide this from me, Rem.”

He pulled away and looked up at his dad. “You’re really not mad?”

“Of course not!” He smiled, teary-eyed, but really, really smiling, and ruffled the hair at the side of his head. “Is he good to you?” he asked, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yeah, Dad,” Remy grinned, a giddy hope bubbling up in his chest. “Really, really good. We take care of each other.”

“Good,” he nodded, a laugh bursting out. “I’m so, so happy for you, Rem. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been lying for so long,” he whispered, years of secrets and fake girlfriends and Emile’s quiet, sad smile each time he introduced his boyfriend, and then his fiancee as a ‘roommate’ crashing on his head. “I love you, Dad. I wanted to tell you.” His voice cracked and he hid his face against his dad’s shoulder. “I was just scared.”

“I know, Rem. And I’m so sorry,” Dad whispered back. “I love you, too.”

“Um…” Pat’s voice suddenly carried over the sound of the rain. “Are you two okay?” Pat, Virge, and Ro stood a dozen feet away, watching them with varied expressions of concern.

“We’re okay, Pat,” Remy nodded, wiping away his tears.

Dad stood and helped him up, eyebrows raised. “Do they know?” he whispered.

“Yeah, they all know,” he nodded, another flash of guilt curdling in his stomach that his dad had been the last to know.

Instead of looking angry, Dad grinned and hugged Remy with one arm, the other held out to the rest of the group. “I’m going to have a son-in-law!” he cheered, laughing when Pat drug them all together into a big, messy hug.

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Ask to be added :D

[thebuttsmcgee]

Spoilers for Update 3 ahead!

So, we're finally at the end, Update 3 has been a mixed bag and for plenty justifying reasons. Most of what seem to say, is the difficulty. I will say climbing the towers on hard, was hard lol. Tower 1, 2 and 5 mostly, but 2 especially. However, I think it's not entirely unfair, that is if you're an experienced player, someone who thinks "platforming in Sonic games is a breeze", if you're a casual player or someone who isn't too used to StH's style of platforming, then this isn't easy for ya, try changing to easy mode if possible since I heard there's checkpoints (might be wrong tho!)

Anyways the main meat of the dish this time around is still the story and gameplay but moreso of the new characters! Amy, Knux and Tails who finally, FINALLY, make their grand return to being fully playable for the first time in over a decade in a Mainline game. All of which have new moves, some returning moves and no costumes whatsoever what the HELL SEGA.

Anyway. no seriously what the hell sega....

ANYWAY, their gameplay is different enough for me to take a different approach when playing as one.

Amy is waaay jumpier than any of the cast, her triple jump when unlocked covers TONS of airtime. Her base speed, to me at least, felt a bit like the rest of the cast which wasn't bad, and didn't need time to get used to thankfully. Her fully upgraded speed with the Max rings upgrade however, is chaotic to say the least lol. It takes a good amount of effort to steer and turn her...hammer broom? And when Max speed upgrade, it's WAAY past fast. It's fun when just chilling but bit of a hassle otherwise.

Her moveset....isn't bad. But wow, tarot cards went way into it. I love the idea of her using it as an attack! But having it be her main attack is...kinda disappointing cause she literally has a hammer. Which she's known for, by a lot actually. But again, the tarot cards being implemented is a welcome surprise! Just tone it down a bit next time yk? Also jesus christ Ms Cindy Robinson went hard in the studio SHE KILLED THAT SHIT

Knux wasn't fully polished, his gliding has a pain-in-the-ass startup, his attacks can miss at times cause of how much height he gets from the uppercut, and his fully upgraded Glide is MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE chaotic with how fast it is.

And I love it.

He has a good amount of stuff that needs fixing but like god man, he's just super fun to play as when fully upgraded. A huge glide over here, spin drill burst there and cheesing through obstacles all around. Plus that ground pound is obnoxiously powerful with a too-long start. He needs a fair amount of polish, but damn is he fun!

Lil buddy Tails is floatier? I think. Compared to the rest imo, he feels lighter. His attacks leave a bit to be desired tbh, his main attack being Woe Wrench be upon Ye, and it works fine enough but it doesn't have a lotta oomph. Even with the upgrade. His Adventure tailspin would have really benefitted being here but I digress. His laser kicks ass tho LOL, which coincides with the Cyclone returning.

Holy fucking shit. Good fucking Goku above. This shit is broken LMFAO like its a blast, probably the most fun I've had with in terms of the new moves but fuckin hell is it broken FJHEBA. idk if they plan to release patches for these 3, but if they do, don't be surprised if the cyclone is nerfed. SPEED MAXIMUM.

As for the Sonic's sides of things.....hueh..it's not. Bad. Just. Hard. LOL. Ya get 5 towers to climb, with the punishment of falling down being HUGE. Remember to Parry and sidestep when in the air as a piece of advice. It saved my ass tons of times. OH and if you destroy the purple walls in Tower 2 and fall all the way down, start a new life cause they do not I repeat DO NOT RESPAWN, until ya die or replay the save.

Aside from the towers are also 5 trials at the top of each one. They range from kinda easy to slightly easy to okay to hard as ball to Challenge 5. Not in that order except Challenge 5. Challenge 5 ya might wanna change the difficulty to easy. Also as a piece of advice for the snake trial, Cyloop, 2 hits then a stomp, it worked for me! And remember to parry when far away and they shoot at you.

Challenge 5.......fuck me man LOL. I didn't even know I've been playing on Hard mode until I changed it to easy cause of this. I only managed to half beat Wyvern but jfc. Each difficulty level has a different time for parrying. Easy has a 3 second time parry, Medium I believe is 2?? Might be wrong. But Hard, you need to be Frame by Frame, absolutely perfect. No shame in the easy way this time lol.

The story itself was okay! Not bad. Nothing too extraordinary but it was fun to see through. Plenty of lore with optional conversations such as the wildlife being transported before The End got to the ancients aside from some insects, Sage kinda admiring Sonic, Sonic shittalking Eggsy to the max and BIG WASN'T REAL APPARENTLY??

It was fun to see the other 3 experience the corruption of cyberspace and them breaking through it all was just badass I'm ngl lol. Amy's voice lines were raw as hell that sent shivers down me spine.

The memories and conversations with the Ancient Warriors who were the pilots of the titans were really fun, they all not-so-subtly reflected each of the main cast and there being an actual King to the koco was a surprise, lol at Sonic giving him shit tho. The ending was beautiful, Sage managing to hear EggMan call her his daughter without needing to sacrifice herself and them heading home together....grhj....ghje...I do, truly, care them.

I just remembered the cyberspace levels lol. They were okay. U get a bomb strapped to u in some. Fun.

The final, FINAL, boss is better than both the original Supreme fight and the "secret" boss fight against the end in the vanilla game. Both of which were kinda underwhelming, moreso the end tho.

The End v2 has a bit of a problem however, you can only target the tube on its head by attacking the head for a bit with normal attacks, then sidestepping, which leads to attacking the tube. Pain in the ass to find out. The fight itself is okay, Super Duper Sonic isn't too different aside from mandatory perfect parrying and blue eyes, the dramatics were BALLER AS HELL THO, THE SNAP AND THE SPECIAL MOVE WHERE HE CROSSES HIS ARMS A BUNCH WERE RADDDDD!!! Manually having to cyloop the sniper gun was a bit clunky tho since Super Sonic flies a bit funky.

Also the song isn't bad, it's a revamped cover of I'm Here, the vocals are Kellin Quinn and the instrumental goes hard!! But it kinda feels like they autotuned it a bit too much. I think I might prefer the original honestly.

And of course...what everyone's probably already seen at this point..

Sonic's brand new form!

That shows up for less than a minute!

It's fuckjng cool as hell!

You don't get to play as him!

Very rad!!!

Idk his name!

And that's Update 3 from my end folks!

Overall, a mixed bag for all, but ultimately Fun for me. Who's to say if there'll be more in the future aside from sega and the employees themselves, likely patch notes at most. The characters were fun, the music was great, no shitty minigame being the true ending, all fun stuff. I hope Sonic Team and Co receive fair criticism and take notes where necessary.

Love ya Frontiers!!! Overall a 7or 8 outta ten in terms of this update alone for me!

No fishing minigame tho so fuck this gay ass earth and everyone go to hell 0/10

[estrelladeishtar-archive]

Update post # ??? Of ??? (I don’t keep track)

Figured it’s probably. About time I make one of these? Keeping this brief mostly cause… Not too keen on like. Disclosing too much.

Tossing under a read more regardless but tl;dr is I guess I’ll probably be making efforts to post a bit more here, but expect that most my stuff be focused on OCs & fanchars, as my pinned post would suggest. Also some personal things although not too much.

Ig first & foremost I should say that well—yeah, as my recent posting would suggest I’m going to… be trying to make an effort to be a bit more active on here. Personally though I still feel like most my activity will be kept moreso to my toyhou.se & discord though, as that’s where I most feel comfortable? For those interested in said TH account, it goes by the same username as here, EstrellaDeIshtar . I’m still in the process tho of updating char info pages & everything, & setting up a boundaries page too that’ll be like… what I’m okay/not okay with wrt my own chars? Which I figure, important to have that linked somewhere here too—will tack it onto my pinned post once done but yeah.

I wanna sorta be able to share more on my ocs & fanchars if i post em here, so like… there’s that, & I might also be trying to loosen up & worry less about only posting polished work? Its a way of just working through perfectionism & all which. Struggle, but. We’re getting there whdsjfb. Main reason I re-state that i want focus on ocs & fanchars is because, well… I just don’t have my heart in it to do fanart, I’ve always had more interest in OC content really. So if you’re still here in hopes of that I will have to ask to unfollow, but if you still wanna be here to see my work in general or my OC & fancharacter stuff… then you’re more than welcome to stick around & I do appreciate it a lot.

Ngl I’ve contemplated also like… making an ask blog or rp blog for my OCs Zion & Ishtar but? We’ll see ig, for now I leave it at a passing thought & also a “if you wanna ask abt those OCs pls do or if you wanna ask abt another OC i post I’m also chill with too”… but if I decide to make said blog I’ll def post abt it

Anyway, ig that’s about it for now w creative stuff?

On the personal side of things… shit’s been a lot. I won’t say much more than that (since I prefer keeping that to either one off ramblings on my personal blog that i delete after a while, or to talking to friends only), & the fact that I’ve been having to work through a lotta personal & emotional matters, along w health stuff—hence why I was away for so much, I guess? On top of personal apprehensions w this site (but tbf, other social media sites also ain’t too great) But, we get through it ig.

Anyway, hoping all of y’all are doing well, apologies for my constant absences here but we’ll see how things go bc I do genuinely wanna share my OC stuff here? Idk though if that would. Really be all that interesting to ppl here, & I’ll have to figure out how to format any OC posting I do end up doing here because when I talk abt em it, tends to be… A Lot. & Ig I worry about just how lengthy my OC posting would get if I were to do that…? Its part of why im leaving myself open to asks too so i can feel i can talk abt em & from there know how much to say/ramble, tho for the most part w making posts abt em myself i need to work out what to post & also. How wcsfdh

But yeah.

[viola-canadensis]

Mostly just that like lots of people are saying that its the best souls-like but its still not as good as the actual souls games cause it lacks “polish” or “charm” and like to me that just seems like people cant actually come up with a reason for not liking it other than the fact that its just not made by fromsoft. And there are some decent real criticisms but like most of them are also criticisms you can make about the actual souls games.

I guess like response to gameplay criticisms section? (Also usual disclaimer that i dont know fuck about shit)

Like for one people say its too linear. Well everyone says that about dark souls 3 too. So is it just more too linear than dark souls three and thats why its worse? Or is it equally as bad as dark souls three and its just worse than dark souls one cause as we all know dark souls one is the absolute peak of world design. And is being “too linear” actually a bad thing? Obviously being able to explore a fully connected world is a big part of dark souls one but is a game necessarily worse because its not like that? If all souls-likes are automatically bad because theyre not exactly like dark souls one then maybe we shouldnt be judging them on that basis. I actually prefer how linear it is. I get super stressed if i think im missing something but i actually managed to get through the whole game without having to look up item locations on a wiki because there was never so many branching paths that i got confused about where i was supposed to be going. Also i never got bored of going in a straight line because all the locations were really interesting.

You got a cool factory area with steam and grease and shit everywhere. You got this creepy village with some zombie people and stuff. You got fuckin some other places too idk theres a whole bunch. Only place i really have any complaints about is the final area cause i think it just dragged on a little too long. Its like 1.5 times bigger than all the other areas and to me was the most monotonous cause its like a bunch of greyish bricks for most of it. But again theres so many souls areas i dont like. I always speed through catacombs/smouldering lake and irithyll dungeon as fast as possible in ds3 cause i fucking hate those places. And all the fucking poison swamps in all the souls games? That shit sucks. And theres a poison swamp in lies of p but i actually dont hate it cause one its pretty short and two the poison isnt that bad as long as you wear the right converter for it and the game does a pretty good job impressing upon you the importance of having the correct resistances in any given situation. And youre not likely to have missed the best gear for that part of the game because the game is linear so its pretty easy to find all the shit you need.

Few more quick things. Some people were mad about a difficulty jump in the middle of lies of p. To me it didnt seem that bad. It was more of a skill check honestly. Once i starting using all the moves available to me it became way easier. And also you look at wolnir -> yhorm -> pontiff -> aldrich -> dancer in ds3 and tell me that thats not a crazy rollercoaster of difficulty for a first playthrough. (Lotta ds3 areas and bosses in this post cause im just most familiar with it).

Another quick thing is I FORGET RIGHT NOW ADD SOMETHING OR DELETE THIS BEFORE YOU POST VI.

I think to me people are just far more willing to overlook faults with fromsoft games but then use those same faults to criticize other souls-likes. And i mean im willing to overlook those faults too. But im just also willing to overlook them in lies of p. And in fact i dont really find a lot of them to be real faults. My main point here is just that i think people are confusing personal preference for objective criticism. (I feel like that sentence sounds stupid idk). Maybe there really is something special about fromsoft games that most people arent seeing in lies of p. But for me its there. And i just dont think lies of p deserves to be seen as a lesser game than the fromsoft games because its not exactly what people prefer.

Story stuff or somethin (the stuff im very passionate about) (still dont know shit tho)

Post isnt over yet theres more. All that other shit is like stuff i dont care about that much and some of it might be stupid as hell but there are two criticisms i will not let stand. One is that the story isnt as good as the souls games. And im just. Fucking. The souls games dont have any story bestie. They have lore. But that shit already happened. The story is just some guys tell you you gotta link the flame and then you either go do it or you go do not it. Thats all that fucking happens. Altho im being an asshole lol i know theres more to it. You being “just another guy” is kinda super important to the lore and overarching story and stuff. And the lore itself is obviously very fun and theres tons of it and shit. And all the fuckin *vibes* are there and it makes for a great experience. And theres some fun npcs you meet and they have nice little stories and stuff (if you can figure out how the fuck to progress them without getting everyone fucking killed). And obviously in ds3 all the gael stuff is super cool and makes for a final battle that you specifically actually have some stakes in. But the souls games dont really have like a plot and story that the main character drives and experiences and shit. And they dont need it cause its not what theyre going for. But that doesnt mean that when lies of p has that type of story instead of all the lore and shit its somehow worse.

And heres where the second point comes in. I saw someone say that lies of p just doesnt have the heart as the souls games. And idk if this is a big criticism or if its just that one person and so like sorry if im just shitting on one guy specifically but also not sorry cause thats a stupid fucking thing to say about a game where several key aspects of the gameplay and story revolve around the main character’s beating fucking heart.

Lies of P is a game about a boy named P (for pinocchio) becoming a real boy. But they made it weird and cool. Cause its also about killer puppets and mutant zombies and evil dads and dead best friends and fucking kindness and being fucking nice to people and no dark souls game is ever gonna make me fucking cry while writing a tumblr post about it a fucking month after i last played it.

Im doing a shit job at saying what i want to say. Basically your dad wants to make you a real boy and he kills you at the end of the game to do it cause he just needs your heart and not your body cause youre just a puppet not his son and so he takes your heart and puts it in this body he made and you become a real boy. But if you do nice shit for people and lie and stuff and do human things. You can do an optional finaler boss after the final boss to prevent him from killing you and prevent him from killing your friends cause thats what he does immediately after killing you. But so if you do this optional really hard fight and win then you get a cutscene where you almost die but he jumps in front to save you. But hes not actually saving you hes just saving your heart cause his “real” sons soul is in there. And so you finish off the boss and hold him in your arms and the last thing he says to you is “i knew it. Youre just a useless puppet”. EXCEPT if you gain enough humanity by being nice and lying and helping people and listening to fucking music yes this fucking game makes you sit down for minutes at a time and listen to music and it gives you humanity points cause listening to music and feeling emotions from it is so fucking human if you do all that shit then when your father is dying in your arms your puppet body starts crying because even though hes a piece of shit youre a 5 day old puppet and hes your fucking dad and he looks up at you and sees your tears and he apologizes cause he was fucking wrong because youre not just a puppet. Youre already a real boy. You dont have a human body but you understand compassion and love and you lie sometimes and make mistakes and youre fucking human and if you wanna tell me that a story like that doesnt have any fucking heart im gonna fucking eat you. And the fucking stakes are so personal. Im not fighting this boss cause im just supposed to. Im purposely fighting a really hard boss that i could tap out of any time and take the easy way out. But im fighting it for my friends because i love them and im fucking human and im not gonna let you take everything i love away. And lies of p has boss weapons like dark souls. Whats the weapon you get from that boss. Its called the fucking proof of humanity.

I guess i didnt really explain a lot of the story lol just the endings. But still i hope i kinda got what im trying to say across. I just really love this game and i dont like seeing people shit on it for seemingly arbitrary reasons. It means a lot to me. Also im not under the impression that it’s necessarily the most original idea ever i mean half of sci fi is about how androids and ai can be real people and stuff. And fighting a hard boss to save your friends is just fucking undertale. But i mean that doesnt make it bad. And the super fun and challenging gameplay combined with the engaging story and personal stakes just makes a really special experience for me. Theres some miscellaneous gameplay shit i love that i wanna talk about as just like stuff i enjoy without comparing it to dark souls or anything so i might add another reblog with that stuff but ive been writing this for like an hour which is way longer than the 10 seconds i thought i was gonna spend. Also by the way i fucking love the souls games. Dark souls 3 is like top 5 favourite games ever for me. But i just think some fans just cant get past the “im a dark souls fan” part of their identity and are unwilling to give other games a chance. And i mean lies of p doesnt have to be as special to anyone else as it is to me. But just try to engage with it on its terms rather than comparing every single part to dark souls. Anyway i feel like i just said the same thing 5 times i think im done bye.

Any of yous like lies of p? I really like it imma write some stuffs about it in a sec

[deathlordcorpseking]

Yeehawgust 9: Pistol Packing Mama

Sunny is annoyed at the bar by a suitor who doesn’t seem to pick up on the cues she’s dropping. Trudy gets him to leave her alone. 718 words, warning for curses, guns (there’s no violence, but vague threats), alcohol, and a man being uncomfortably pushy (think ‘niceguy’ stuff).

"I appreciate it." Cheyenne certainly didn't: she gnashed her teeth, but the man bothering Sunny didn't notice.

"I'm serious!" He said, grinning, as if his continued attempts at wooing her weren't uncomfortable. "Listen, you, me, some farm out West. What kind of girl doesn't want to start a family away from all the mess here?"

"I don't know what to tell you. I like it out here. Good place, good people, good hunting."

"Hunting gal?"

"Certainly am, sure."

His fingers drummed against the glass of his cup. "Well, life changes, eh? Think you'll find it better with me as the hunter."

"Cheyenne and me do fine in the hunting business."

At that, he laughed, reaching over to put a hand on her shoulder. Sunny swerved out of the way. "Now, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were saying no." Sunny shrugged. "Listen, I'm not pressuring you like shitty men like to do to girls like you. I'm a good one. I just think that you're really pretty. Gal Mama'd like. Don't see any harm in trying it out, do you?" 

Sunny strategically stalled, drinking a sip from her cup. He stared expectantly. "I'm sure you're great. 'M just not looking for that. Sure there are a lotta other girls who'd like that."

"Girls say I'm too nice. 'S if you girls want some jerk instead. You'd like me better if I was?"

"No. I'm just not interested in anything."

"Can't even be friends, then?"

Sunny grimaced, glancing at Trudy, who met her eyes. Sunny nodded vaguely in the man's direction. Trudy set down the cup she had been polishing to approach. "Need anything?"

"No. We're fine."

"Are you?"

"I'm pretty sure I'd know how I feel."

"No need to make a fuss outta this. Just heard you were being just a bit pushy over here, and I'd like to make clear that I don't allow that here, alright?"

"You heard me being pushy?" He repeated. Scoffing, he glanced at Sunny, gesturing at Trudy as if to say, 'can you believe this?' Sunny frowned, looking away. "Aw, now don't be like that. We're are having a nice chat. No pressure, no pushing. You're worried over nothing."

He reached to grab at her shoulder, but missed when Sunny moved again. "Right, well, you're giving me a bad feeling. Seem like the kind of man who thinks smiling's a sign of more than just being nice. I'd like you to leave." 

He blinked. Trudy gestured over to the door. Cheyenne barked happily. Sunny sunk into her chair, eyes flicking over to the man that'd been bothering her. His eyes were wide, bulging, in utter shock at the idea that he could be kicked out of the bar for this.

"Well?" Trudy asked, staring cautiously. "Get going."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Surely not."

"We were just talking. You're kicking me out for talking?"

"It's my bar, isn't it? I'm the one deciding who drinks here, and you're no longer allowed. And I've never much liked loiterers."

"I'm not-!" He started, coming to an angry stand. "Sunny, you think this is all shit, too, right?" Sunny shrugged. "You people are crazy. Can't even talk to girls, else you're a creep. Heads up, you aren't that pretty."

"Oi!" Trudy called, annoyed. "I said get out."

"I did nothing."

Scowling, she pulled the pistol she kept behind the counter out, pointing it at his chest. "Get out, or I'm going to do something."

"You're crazy."

She used the pistol to gesture in the direction of the door. "Crazy woman's bar. Out."

His nostrils flared, and she was sure he was about to continue yelling. Instead, he walked off, shoving his and Sunny's drinks to the floor, which shattered on impact. He grumbled as he left.

Some customers stared after him, but Trudy shrugged, putting her pistol back in its rightful place. "Crazy woman's bar. Mess with a local and the same thing happens to you next."

The remaining patrons, all locals and many regulars, all looked away, accepting it as a suitable explanation. Trudy picked up a rag to clean up the mess.

"Thanks."

"No need. Can't have someone bother my favorite hunter, eh?"

"Guess not."

"I'll get you another drink in a second. Sorry for all this mess."

"Alright… Mom."

[hyperionshipping]

Sleepover

A/N: Ooooh. Parental f/o time. I am just writing for ME baby. That's this whole fic! Also, Tardis best place for sleepovers confirmed?

---

Tricks smiled, grabbing the Doctor's hand. "Trust me on this. It's gonna look awesome. Sit still. This is like a sleepover!" The doctor just watched.

"Right, a sleepover." 

"You've… you don't know what that is do you? Okay it's like, really simple." Tricks dipped the brush into the nail polish bottle to his side. The color was a darker blue. He had tried to match the Tardis' color as best he could. He started on the Doctor's left hand. "You like, just hang out. And tell stories, and umm you just, yeah! You do all that."

"And this is a part of it?" he asked. Tricks shifted to sit on his knees, nodding. He moved the Doctor's hand closer to a light in the room, bringing the brush to the nail again to cover it in another layer of nail polish. 

"Yes! This is very common. Thank you for sitting still. I'm sorry if I mess up."

"I think you're doing wonderful Tricks," the Doctor said. And, to the Doctor, he was. He knew Tricks appreciated the compliment.

"We can watch a movie after. I found this little DVD player. It's a small screen but that makes it cozy!" Tricks let go of the Doctor's hand. "Don't move that hand. It needs to dry now." The Doctor moved his hand towards his face. 

"I love this color. Where did you find it?" 

"Ohh, I had to do a lotta searching. Other hand, please!" The Doctor extended his right hand towards Tricks, who grabbed it and started to paint the rest of his nails. "Thank you!" 

"How long will it take to dry?" The Doctor asked, trying to get Tricks to keep talking. He knew he sometimes stopped talking because he felt like he shouldn't be. He thought that was stupid. Tricks was a smart kid, and he often had good things to say.

"Oh, not too long. Amy helped me pick this color out. I wanted to invite her to this, but she had a date with Rory. So it's just us. I'll tell you a trick after I'm done this hand Doctor." Tricks shifted again how he was sitting, mumbling for the Doctor to hold on. He was just finishing up his pinky finger. "...Aaaand done! Take a look!"

The Doctor looked at his now painted nails. This was new for him. He liked it! Some of the nail polish was smudged around his nail, and some had gotten on his skin, but he didn't mind. "Now, to dry them quick? Blow on your nails. That's what I do." Tricks showed him what to do, and the Doctor copied him. "And, you'll know they're dry because it won't feel like, tacky? You'll know!"

***

While the Doctor waited for his nails to dry, Tricks had gotten up, walking around the room, talking as he gathered up a few things. "I don't know what movies you've seen and haven't seen, but! I have a favorite one I want you to watch. Hold this." Tricks put a DVD case on the bed. "I got snacks too! I had to go away to get this but, popcorn! Every good sleepover has popcorn. Well, this is smartpop but it's basically the same. Okay! Alright!" Tricks smiled at the Doctor clapping his hands. "One more minute."

The Doctor watched as Tricks left the room, a bundle of clothes in his arms. He reached towards the black bag of popcorn. He opened the bag, not sure if he should be intrigued or disgusted by the smell. Either way, he reached into the bag trying one piece of popcorn. It tasted slightly like cheddar. 

Tricks suddenly slid into the room, throwing his hands out. His tail lashed side to side, a clear sign of his excitement. He had switched into baggier looking clothes. "This sleepover is ON! You opened the popcorn already? Couldn't wait for me huh?" Tricks clambered onto the bed, as the Doctor quickly grabbed the DVD case.

"Oh, right. Thanks," Tricks took it from him, opening it and then opening the portable DVD player. "This thing is fully charged! We'll get through at least two movies. This One is called Monty Python and The Search For The Holy Grail!" Tricks started to excitedly tell the Doctor about the movie as Tricks tried to forward through to the menu. 

***

The movie had ended, and the Doctor was pleasantly surprised at the movie. Tricks had talked just as much as the movie did. The Doctor was about to ask about the next movie, but he felt Tricks slumped against his side. "Oh, fell asleep? Tricks?" The Doctor asked, listening to his shallow breaths. 

The Doctor didn't want to move now. He couldn't wake Tricks up. "This is the sleep part then. At least you're comfy. Try not to drool?" The Doctor grabbed the blankets, covering the bottom half of Tricks. "There, that's better. Now… how will I pass the time?" 

By the time Tricks woke up, the Doctor had moved slightly. The Doctor had a protective arm around him. Tricks couldn't tell if the Doctor was asleep, but he yawned and closed his eyes again. He feared his head on the Doctor's arm, pulling the blankets up again. He could sleep a little longer.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

maybe 3 or 11 + blupjeans for the kissing prompts? :o

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

(Kissing prompts here :D!)

this got,,, A LITTLE out of hand sjflsdfj. here is OVER 2k of blupjeans for ur reading pleasure (probably to be posted on ao3 later)

--

Barry’s got one arm covering Lup as he’s half leaning over her, and the other up in the air to create a shield around them (god, he was so glad that Lucretia had talked him into learning abjuration magic a few cycles ago). It wasn’t the strongest, but it held up as the mineshaft they were in caved in around them. By the time the ground stopped shaking, and the rocks stopped falling, the bubble he had created was completely covered from top to bottom. There wasn’t a shred of light anywhere.

“Fuck,” Lup said, which aptly described how Barry was feeling. “Quick thinking, Bar, good job.” 

She snapped her fingers and a few balls of light lit up the bubble, floating aimlessly around them.

He lowered his wand, focusing on the spell well enough for it to stay steady, and turned his attention to Lup. She wasn’t injured, besides some scrapes on her arms from when Barry had shoved her to the ground. He felt a little bad about that, but the tunnel was small and he didn’t want her to move out of range of the bubble.

Lup fished her Stone of Farspeech out of her robes as Barry gave her a tight smile in response. He sat up against the side of the bubble shield as she called back to the ship. Davenport was sending Taako, Magnus, and Merle to come to get them out (which Barry already knew would be a disaster, even if they worked well together). When she hung up, all that was left to do was... wait. There was a light on the top of her Stone to show it was being tracked, and they couldn’t do anything else to make it go faster.

“Sorry for pushing you,” Barry said. Lup shrugged and sat cross-legged across from him.

“No biggie,” she said. “It was either be pushed to the ground or get killed by a rock, so I don’t think I have the right to be mad about it right now. Or the want to, anyhow.”

Waiting was slow going. Barry knew Lup wasn’t a particularly patient person and could tell when she was starting to get antsy. Neither of them were good at sitting still, but Lup’s foot had been tapping for ten straight minutes before she started searching through her pack for things to do.

“Hey, Bar,” she asked, five minutes into that, “Wanna help?”

“Gods, yes,” Barry said, shuffling his way over to her side. “Give me something to do.”

Lup muttered something under her breath that Barry didn’t catch, and probably didn’t want to. She turned the whole bag over and pushed half of it towards him.

“Do... something with that,” she said and started working on her half.

Barry started to organize it because that was probably what Lup had meant. He sorted it by use first- things someone would need if they were going to a mission (waterskin, loose charcoal, which Barry didn’t want to begin questioning), makeup stuff (chapstick, face wipes, three different colors of nail polish, and one eyelash curler), and misc. (four individual playing cards, a note in Taako’s handwriting that just said “fuck you”, a photo of a baby elephant). Then he sorted by size.

When he looked back over to Lup, she had made a wobbly tower out of her half. Barry was startled into a laugh, which caused it all to fall over.

“Barold Bluejeans,” she said, turning on him. “You fucking monster.”

“S- sorry!” Barry gasped, leaning back against the bubble, not sounding sorry at all. “I thought- I thought we were both sorting!”

“I said “do something” not sort!” Lup said. “I cannot believe- oh, fuck, is that my charcoal, I was looking for that.”

Which just made Barry laugh harder. She scowled at him, in good nature, and snatched the charcoal from his piles. She eyed him as she started building her tower again, pausing only when he sniggered to send a light-hearted glare his way.

After a while, he finally got control of his laughter and watched her build a tower. She had two books she was using as the base, followed by a thinning stack of sticky notes, and a half-empty water bottle. After about three minutes, she finished the pile, which had been swaying precariously as she added things, and placed the charcoal on top. She leaned back on her hands and looked at it.

“Hey, Bar,” Lup said, not taking her eyes off the pile.

“Yeah?”

“I’m bored.” She tore her gaze away from it to look at him, lips turned into a cute little frown. “I wanna do somethin’ else.”

“Not a lotta options here, Lup,” Barry said. She frowned, tilting her head at him. His heart stuttered a little. “We can, uh. Talk?”

“About what?” Lup asked. “‘What’s your favorite color?’ I already know yours is denim blue. You’re predictable, babe. I don’t know what to ask that wouldn’t seem like this is a bad first date.”

Barry flushed a little.

“This would be a very bad first date,” Barry said and Lup laughed. She scooted up next to him, careful not to disturb her pile while she moved. After a second, she pressed her arm next to his and leaned onto his shoulder. Barry’s brain short-circuited, almost missing what she said next.

“We’d have to be on at least third date questions,” Lup said thoughtfully. “Like, uhh. What’s your social security number?”

“I don’t remember that!” Barry laughed and Lup buried her head into his shoulder, giggling. “I- I barely even knew it when we were at home, Lup, how do you expect me to remember it after forty-five years.”

“Joking, Barry,” she said, laughing a little still. “I’ll ask a better question, then. Uh. When you were a kid, what did you wanna be when you grew up?”

“Astronaut,” Barry said immediately, which sent Lup into another fit of giggles. She looked up at him, grinning.

"For real?" she asked and when he nodded, she whistled. "Dang, babe, you got your dream."

"I- I guess," Barry said. "It's not like- I mean, I gave up on that dream fairly quick back home. One, because it was pretty unrealistic until the Light came, and two, because it seemed... I don't know, unrealistic. I was a professor, Lup, I didn't- the mission was more of a... midlife crisis decision, if we're being honest."

Lup hummed, dropping her head back down to lean on his shoulder. Barry worried he went too far for a moment.

"I forget that human's live such short lives," Lup said quietly. The mood of the room (bubble) shifted when she said that. It took on a somber tone. "Me and Taako weren't adults until we were a hundred. By that age, you'd be all old and wrinkly."

"Hey," Barry said, nudging her. "I'm old and wrinkly now."

She snorted but shook her head.

"Guess Magnus's "live now, die later" attitude kinda makes sense when you think about it like that," Lup said. "Like, you age so fast. You just kinda have to do what you want when you want so you can actually get it in there, y'know."

"Not really," Barry said. "I mean, there's a lot of time to do things still, but I see where he's coming from. You don't wanna not do something and regret that you never did it."

Lup seemed to think on that for a second. Barry did, too. She was still pressed against his shoulder, close enough that her hair was tickling his neck. He looked away and sighed slightly. If he was being honest, he probably should take his own words to heart. Life, love, never lasts long enough and as soon as you get what you want, it's counting down the seconds until something takes it away. Circumstances, opportunities, death. Something always took it away.

They had an endless amount of time to get it right. But Barry didn't want to be the one to break her heart when they stopped the cycles and he started to age again.

"Barry," Lup said, quiet, but absolutely deafening in the silence of the bubble. "I, uh. I think we need to talk." She sat up, turning herself towards him completely. Barry's heart thundered in his chest.

"I know humans don't live long," she said carefully. "And we don't know when we're gonna get out of these cycles. But I... can't ignore things because of that. I can't just fucking- pretend that I'm not feeling things? Because that's not healthy and also, by the way, it fucking sucks. I'd rather-"

She broke herself off. Barry saw her hands dig into the dirt under them.

"This isn't the best place to say it," she said, looking away. She backed up a bit and knocked her pile over in the process. "Uh, my bad, I just-"

"I don't wanna pretend either," Barry blurted out, before he even thought about what he was saying. "Being trapped in a bubble under a collapsed mineshaft isn't the best place to talk about anything, Lup, but it's you and I don't wanna make you not want to say something. I, uh. I think I get what you're getting at, though."

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath in. Okay, he was doing this. He was doing this. He just had to, uh, collect himself first, and-

"I like you," and Lup beat him to the punch line. Barry blinked at her and she hurried along. "Like, in a romantic way, I mean. Not like- I like the others just fine, but I like you, Bar."

"Oh," Barry said. Lup chuckled nervously, not looking at him.

"Yeah," she said. "Um, like I said, not the best place to talk about it, but-"

"No!" Barry said. "No, Lup, I like you too! Fuck, I- I wasn't expecting you to, uhm- Lup, I like you so much, I didn't wanna make things weird."

"This whole goddamn situation is weird," Lup said, hitting the side of the bubble with her hand.

"No, like, us," Barry said. "Like as a friendship, I didn't wanna make it weird. I'm..." he sighed. "It's complicated for a lot of reasons, Lup, I'm human. I-"

"So it's a no?" Lup said awkwardly.

"No!" Barry said. "No, no, no, it's definitely a yes! I just don't want- I don't wanna fucking... die on you when the cycles stop, Lup. I don't want it to end and I don't want you to have to deal with that."

"That's not up to you," Lup said at once, sounding a tad bit annoyed. "If I wanna date you, that's my choice, and if you die, then it's my emotions I'm going to be dealing with. I don't want you to beef it, obviously, but- it's not up to you to figure out how I'll react then. I wanna do now with you and I wanna do that all the way up until we can't. It's fine if you don't- don't want that, but I-"

She was starting to tear up a bit and he panicked, scooting forward.

"Sorry," he said, because he didn't know what else to say. "I- I wasn't thinking about now, I was focusing on later. I- I don't want to see you upset because of something I've done, if I can help it. I got a little stuck in that.

"I desperately want this to work out," Barry said, holding out his hands. She wiped away a tear and clasped her hands in his. "There's no one I'd rather be with than you, Lup, I promise. But I wanna talk about what all it'll mean, first, if that's alright with you. I wanna make this work."

"Yeah," Lup said thickly. "Of course."

She hesitated for a second, and then wrapped him in a hug. His heart was beating fast as he hugged back, burying his face into her neck. After a moment, she drew back a little, pressing her forehead against his.

"Can I kiss you before we talk, or do you wanna wait 'til after?" she asked. The air momentarily left Barry's lungs. He took a deep, needed, breath in and nodded. When he realized that the nod answered nothing, he said,

"Now's good, if you, uh, if you want."

"Now," Lup said decisively, leaning in.

If you asked Barry, the day could be divided up into two parts: before he kissed Lup, and after. Maybe that was stupid, because they were buried under a pile of dirt and rocks right now, but... Her lips against his were fire and ash and everything wonderful and powerful. The touch was soft, because they were both uncertain, and Barry drew back just far enough to say,

"I'm sorry, are you sure-"

Before she was pressing her lips back up against his, stronger, with more intent. Barry's heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest as she tugged him closer with the arms she had around his neck.

And then he felt like his heart did actually explode when something clanged against the side of the bubble. Barry startled back, hitting the opposite end of the barrier, and looking towards where the sound had come from. Lup scooted back towards him, raising her wand towards it. It hit again and Barry recognized the blade of a shovel, scooping away the dirt.

In a matter of seconds, there was a sizable amount gone and there was Magnus, who grinned upon seeing them. He saw Taako standing against the wall a little further back and Merle on the ground, talking to him.

Lup swore. Barry saw that the tips of her ears were pink when she shoved her want back into her holster.

"We'll get back to this later," she promised. "The kissing and the convo, I promise. Help me put my shit back in my bag."

"Yeah," Barry said, his whole face flushed. "I can do that."

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Two: Plotting and Planning

Chapter Summary: You finally arrive at Jeju Island, but there’s trouble in paradise between you and Dominic.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, stalking, cheating Word count: 2.7k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter One For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

You wanted to punch him square in the face.

Dominic was pushing your buttons beyond what you could handle, and you had no idea what had gotten into him.  Never this bad when it came to his attention. Never did he make you feel this annoyed.

Jeju was a nice place--just as beautiful as you had imagined--but the flight was fairly long so none of you went sight seeing the day you landed. Skipped off to the hotel room for some much needed rest, you most of all.

Though you had a weird sense, chills running up your spine occasionally and funny feelings at the back of your head, you tried to shove it aside. Work was not meant to make it’s way while you were all on your holiday.

Not to mention, your boyfriend was talking once again to his colleagues and friends, not paying mind to you as you hauled the rest of the luggage around the large airport and hotel.

You were tired. You felt not normal. He was being a dick.

So it all had started off on the wrong foot. Still time left to change it around, right?

Then Dominic decided it would be great to take up most of the hotel bed--probably because it was so comfy, whereas he only had half of the bed back at home.

Eventually, you were too tired to put up with this behaviour so you got up and walked to Seonghwa’s and Yeosang’s room.

“The fuck, why are you here?” Yeosang mumbled, half-asleep himself.

Caught the rapid pitter-patters of water running in the background, which must’ve been Seonghwa. “How long’s he been in the shower?” You asked since he generally takes quite a long time.

“Just got in,” he answered, moving aside as you pushed through the doorway with a lazy glare resting on your face.

“Good. Stealin’ his bed,” was all you said before flopping onto the nearest double bed--still as comfortable as the king sized you were supposed to share--and knocking out right there on the spot.

Yeosang ruffled his silvery-grey hair, sighing. “His bed was the other one...”

The next day was a little more manageable.

The sleep definitely helped your patience level, though Seonghwa was a little annoyed that he had to share the night with Yeosang.

Granted, when you explained everything in the morning over some food from the breakfast buffet, he understood.

You were like a little sister to him. Sure, he took you under his wing a little less than five years ago, taught you his trade, polished you up to be the best of the best, he still grew fond of you.

An older brother you never had, and acting as such, he was highly sceptical when you brought a boy to the dinner table. Dominic, you had introduced.

Never liked him since. Sucked it up only for you, but his patience too was tested often by comments that were made and outlandish behaviour that was presented. No, Seonghwa didn’t like him one bit.

“Well,” he began, taking a bite of a golden, buttered croissant, “if you start feeling uncomfortable again, just pop over to our room and I’ll kick Yeosang out.”

You chuckled at the thought. “He’ll rip him to shreds.”

“Who? Yeosang or Dom?” Threw a pointed look in his direction, as if to ask him if he actually did just say that. “Okay, okay,” Seonghwa laughed as he almost spat out his orange juice, “I knew you meant Yeosang.”

“Happy birthday, dipshit!” Mingi’s voice boomed from behind, as the rest began to join the two of you. His long arms wrapped around your shoulders as he squeezed you in a bone-crushing hug.

“Happy birthday to you too, douchebag,” you squeaked out. The other boys had settled down, wishing you both a happy birthday--Dominic giving you a little kiss too.

Tried to hold back the smirk fighting its way onto your lips as you saw Seonghwa openly grimacing in your peripheral. “Where were you last night, babe?”

You never particularly liked it, that nickname. ‘Babe’...

“You’re asking that now?” Playfully teasing, though there was a slight hint of venom. None of which he picked up on. “I was with Seonghwa and Yeosang.”

“Really?” Dominic’s brow lifted, the judgement of you spending a night in two other men’s room clearly written in his expression.

“Yes, really,” you replied, less playful since he should have known by now that all of you were strictly friends. Neither passion nor romance was held for either the black-haired clean-freak and the grumpy introvert.

Has never been since you were all like family.

“Okay then,” he sighed, sitting beside you with his plate of a heavy breakfast.

The boys stayed quiet throughout the exchange, noticing everything going on but not saying a word. Knew that you could handle it better on your own.

San, on the other hand, was fuming. Although he was not close enough to hear a word any of you said--not that it would matter since he couldn’t understand it anyway--the boy could see the feelings of annoyance brew in your mind.

Hongjoong had his hand on his friend’s shoulder, preventing him from walking up and doing something he would regret. “Look, you don’t know what’s being said, so just give it a rest and enjoy your toast.”

“Joong, I can’t enjoy my toast, especially if he’s said something that makes her upset. I’ll floor the fucker, I swear--”

“San,” the blur-haired boy warned in a low tone, “eat your toast.”

One of his strengths would be that San knew when to back off. Sure, it came to a much bigger challenge when you were involved, apparently, but he still had listened to his second-in-command. “Fine. I’ll eat it, but I won’t like it.”

Hongjoong had not said another word to him, still pissed off about what his boss had pulled last night. Flying over had drained energy out of him, no matter how many times he did it, so all he wanted to do was to go to the villa, greet Jongho and Wooyoung, and then go to sleep.

That was it.

But no. San decided he had to chase you to this hotel. This hotel which was less luxurious than the villa and the food was sub-par at best. Not to mention he kept pacing about the room that was supposed to be opposite yours and your boyfriend’s, worried how you left the room and went into a different one.

Hongjoong had to stop him from bugging the rooms or even go pounding the door so hard it knocked down.

Seeing his boss and friend like this had him beyond concerned, since this was the first time it’s ever gotten to this degree.

In fact, he was so concerned, he had to update the two other boys about it--without San’s knowledge.

Wooyoung had told him to bring San to the villa as soon as possible--by tomorrow night, no matter what--but the man in question appeared to have other plans.

Throughout the day, San became more calculated in his movements (particularly when it seemed that you were on alert of some strange presence by the side glances you gave in their general direction). “We're going back to the villa tomorrow night.”

To hear that was a bit of a shock, especially when he had planned for the same thing. “What are you gonna do?”

“Sweep her off her feet, of course,” San smirked, devious little cogs in his head turning.

Ruffling his hair as he looked over at you and your friends--sat down in the tent lounge for your celebratory dinner--Hongjoong shuddered slightly at the ominous tone.

Clinking of a fork against glass, Dominic grabbed the attention of everyone, including the bystanders around him. Clearing his throat, he pulled out a piece of of paper with words scribbled on.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, surprisingly in Korean rather than the language you all communicated in--though it wasn’t perfect, he was still trying. San was glad, now able to understand what was being said.

“Today is a special day, because it is the birthday of two very special people. One of which is my lovely girlfriend. So I would like to embarrass her by preparing this speech, to let everyone know this wonderful woman is mine.”

The mafia boss didn’t like that. He didn’t like that one bit.

“I’m so glad you were born, because life wouldn’t have been as fun without you, and you’re certainly very special in not only my heart, but the rest of the boys as well.”

It wasn’t only San who was unhappy about this speech. This wasn’t just your birthday, it was Mingi’s as well, yet he was written off. So, before Dominic could conclude his speech, you stood up, interjecting him.

“Thank you, for that nice speech. But I also want to congratulate my childhood friend, for it’s his birthday today too.” You lifted your glass to cheer the giant. “If it weren’t for you, God knows where I would be, if I would even be alive. You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count and for that, I’ll forever be eternally grateful.”

Hearing you speak such good Korean had--for some bizarre reason--made San’s heart skip a beat of two. Even as your accent shone, the pronunciation was close to flawless.

Yet Dominic was not feeling so proud. Yes, it was Mingi’s birthday too, but that speech was for you. Interrupting him was almost as if you were putting Mingi before him. Before your boyfriend.

As the chocolate cake topped with sparklers was brought out by the staff and people around you started to sing ‘happy birthday’ in Korean (your friends being the loudest), you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were being watched again. But what was worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Dominic was going to do something dumb tonight.

“Excuse me,” you said as you stood up in the middle of dinner, when everything went back to normal.

“And where are you going, little missy?” Yunho asked as he moved his long legs to let you get past.

“Bathroom,” was all you said as you went by, needing to freshen up after feeling so... odd. Confined under the eyes of people you didn’t know.

The night had brought itself a particularly cold wind, rushing past your black chiffon dress. “Crap,” you cursed, “should’ve brought a thicker coat.”

Each turn you made, you became increasingly confused as to where you were. This place was like a damn maze. “Should’ve probably asked for directions too.”

“Are you lost, babygirl?” a deep voice asked you in English, cocky tone evident in the way the words rolled off his tongue. You turned to see the man who had just dared to call you that, ready to thump him in the face with a nearby plant pot, but when you saw his face, a sense of familiarity washed over you.

This was the guy. He's eyes were following you since you came off the plane--you could feel it in your bones.

“No thanks, you replied back in English, “I’m perfectly fine.”

And you turned around, not capturing the devilish smirk growing across San’s face as he watched you powerfully walk off in some random direction, not knowing if it was towards the bathroom.

But he didn’t need to know that, did he?

“Where’s Dom?” Mingi pondered as he looked around, realising it was oddly peaceful in the area.

“Not a clue,” you shrugged, “he’s been gone all night. Disappeared after dinner.”

While Yeosang, Yunho, and Seonghwa went swimming in the hotel pool, hearing their yells of ‘Marco!’ and ‘Polo!’, you and your childhood friend opted for sunbathing on colourful lounge chairs.

“Since when the fuck do you not have a clue? Plus, we all saw how that dickhead was eyefucking that random hoe at the dinner.”

“I really don’t wanna think about it. After all, it’s our birthday and I don’t wanna ruin the mood by thinking of the things he’s probably doing.”

Propping himself on his elbows, he took off his sunglasses to look at you. “Bastard’s cheating on you and you’re not gonna do anything?”

“Oh no, I’m definitely going to bring pain upon his ass like never before, but right now is not the time. Besides, it’s not as if we ever loved each other. And I finally got a good night’s sleep.” You placed your hand over his in a reassuring way, but it did nothing much.

Your response had Mingi biting his bottom lip, worried. “Hearing you talk like that scares me sometimes, ya know?”

“After everything I went through, you still think I’m going to be who I was?” You opened your eyes, peering over at him with eyes so cold that there was only one situation he would see them. “Do you still fucking think with all the shit that the five of us do, I’d still be a person who believes in mercy or love?”

Sighing, he lay back down with his sunglasses covering his eyes once more. “You’re right, it’s dampening the mood. What are you planning to do between now and dinner? Any particular place you wanna visit?”

Contemplating, you hummed as you thought of what to do next. “Maybe visit the stone park? Looked beautiful enough in the pictures,” you sighed, “What do you think? Your birthday too, ya know?”

The tall man shot a boyish grin your way. “Sounds great--”

“Hey!” The two of you turned your head to look at Dominic, who had trudged towards you in flip-flops. When he bent down to peck your cheek, you made no move whatsoever, internally cringing at the feel of his dirtied lips against your skin.

“And where were you?” you inquired, clearly not pleased with this. He hadn’t even bothered to hide the lingering scent of fruity perfume of the random woman he spent the night with.

Though there was something very much off about him since this isn’t something he would do, you will never excuse his disloyal behaviour.

“Oh, I went to Hallim Park. You seemed busy with the rest of the boys so I decided to leave you in peace.”

You took your glasses off, pretending to be pissed off about him going to a place he didn’t actually visit when it was actually about the secret he was trying to hide from you. “Are you shitting me right now? You promised we’d go there together.”

“I know, but I just needed to clear my head for a bit.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, no longer looking you in the eye.

“For the entire night?”

“Yes, for the entire night,” he snapped, instantly irking you even more because how fucking dare he?

Sighing, you got out of the lounge chair you were in, licking you lips to calm you down just a fraction before you stab him in the eye. “You know what?”

Each step you took towards him, he took backwards until he was right at the edge of the pool.

You brought you lips right next to his ear, the faint scent of pineapple lingering on your tongue, spotting the hickey hidden under his neck. You whispered, “fuck you,” before pushing him with ease into the pool to create a massive splash.

With steam coming out of your ears, you stormed away back into the hotel as Mingi lay there, laughing.

“That’s my girl,” San chuckled as he watched the scene unfold. He could tell from the feeling of the argument that you were unhappy about your boyfriend not being home that night.

In fact, when the mafia boss first noticed the way Dominic couldn’t peel his eyes away from one of the other women in the lounge last night, he decided to keep tabs on his movements--and thank god he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have found the great evidence that could pull you two apart and thrust you into his arms.

Hongjoong however, was actually somewhat terrified. “That man was twice the size of her.”

“I know. Feisty little lady.”

The blue-haired man looked at him with so much disgust, watching how he was so enamoured by you and a little turned on. No matter how open San was about what he liked in ‘bedroom matters’ both verbally and (unfortunately) physically, he still couldn’t help how grossed out he was.

“Jesus, keep it in your pants,” he grunted.

“Chin up, Joong,” San sighed, strangely gleeful, “we won’t have to stalk around much longer.”

“No?”

“No,” he smiled, “because she’s back with us to the villa. Tonight.”

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby​ , @sparklychangbin​ ,

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙3

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Chapter 3 as I fight with every other fic to co-operate with me but here it is.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The next day, you went through your shift like a zombie. Despite the deepening pit of hunger in your stomach, you ate your meals without tasting them' without enjoying a bite. You were so distracted by this man’s sudden unshakeable presence in your life that you couldn’t think of what you were doing at any given moment. You just did it.

Your phone rang as you swayed with the puttering of the city bus. You frowned at the number you didn’t recognize and answered with a yawn. No closing shift that night. You ignored the call but your phone lit up again before you could drop it back into your bag. You hit the button on the wire of your earbuds and answered.

“Hello?” You said.

“You working?” Andy asked. You knew his voice, it haunted you as it continued to echo in your mind; ‘The hard way or the easy way’.

“On my way home,” You answered hesitantly. “Can’t I have one night to--”

“You’ve had the day to think. You don’t have that much time,” He interrupted. “How far along are you? Three months?”

“Please…”

“Just give me an answer.” He said.

You paused and read the stop across the banner as it flashed and the rope was pulled with a ding. You glanced out the window. Your stop was still another fifteen minutes away. You sighed and shifted in your seat.

“I don’t have one,” You said quietly. “I barely slept and I worked--”

“I’ve been working all day too,” He insisted. “You’ll see I work hard. For myself, for my family.”

“Look, I don’t need the lecture, alright? Maybe you think what I do is easy but--”

“Easy? You shouldn’t be on your feet so much, not in your condition. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He sniffed.

“Alright, well, you’re going to have to wait for your answer,” You said tersely. “I’m tired, I’m going home to take a nap, then I’ll make up my mind.”

You hung up and dropped your phone into the gaping mouth of your purse. Your music began again, the vibrant tunes of 80s pop contrasted the grey Massachusetts sky. The lyrics were a buzz in your ear as you rocked and waited for your stop. You grew more and more anxious as you neared it.

You got off at the corner of your street and the bus chugged on. You dragged your feet along and stopped at the familiar car parked by the curb of your parents’ house. Shit. You sped up and peeked through the tinted windows; empty. You stormed down the driveway and through the door.

You stopped just inside the entryway as you turned to peer into the living room. Andy sat on the sofa, one leg bent over the other as he leaned back casually. He slowly looked at you and smiled. He wore an expensive suit and polished leather shoes. He must have come straight from the courthouse.

“What--” You began.

“Did you want anything in your coffee?” Your mother appeared from the dining room. 

“Just cream,” Andy replied. “Thank you.”

“Not at all. Oh, there she is,” Your mom tweaked a brow as she looked to you. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” You stepped through the archway and crossed your arms.

You glared at Andy and your mother disappeared back through the dining room and the fridge gave a loud suck as it opened.

“Good. Caffeine isn’t healthy for the baby.” He stretched his arm over the back of the couch.

“Shut up.” You hovered in the doorway. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came for my answer.” He sat up and you gulped as your mom entered again. 

“Here you are,” She handed him the mug and he took it with another thank you.

“You mind if I have a few minutes to talk to your daughter?” He set down the coffee on the low table. 

“Of course, Mr. Barber,” She preened.

“Andy, I told you,” He waved away her formality.

“Well, you know, I am so very sorry about what happened to your family… Andy,” She folded her hands together. 

“Thanks,” He looked down dramatically.

“Anyhoo,” Your mother broke the lull, “I will leave you to it.”

She shot you a look as if to say that she wanted no part of whatever trouble this was. She left and you set your bag down as you sat in the armchair. You picked at your nail and grimaced.

“You really couldn’t wait?” You huffed.

“Well, it’s like you said, we don’t really know each other. I can’t trust you. Yet.” He paused and sipped from the coffee. “I hope you make better coffee than your mother.”

“Hmmph,” You grumbled. 

“If I let you have your couple hours, you could just as soon be on your way out of town. Not that you’d get far.” He grinned. “You know, the uniforms always keep a patrol by the bus station? Lotta people think they can make a quick run on a greyhound.”

“I don’t care about the goddamn police.” You sneered.

“You seem pretty indifferent to most things. Not a very admirable trait so far. Especially with a baby on board. How long do you think you can afford to be so oblivious?” He rolled his shoulder and scratched his beard. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, I’m trying to help you fix it.”

“Well, Christ, Andy, you think maybe I need a little more time to think things through? To actually process what the fuck is going on here? You’ve done this before, I haven’t.” You were seething as you gripped the arm of the chair. “I don’t know what to do, okay?”

“It’s not that hard. I’ve--”

“You’re pregnant?” Your mother interjected as she appeared from around the corner, the shadows of the unlit dining room hanging over her shoulders like a cape.

“What the hell? Have you been listening?” You stood.

“Not intentionally but it’s hard not to hear.” She hissed. “What, were you going to wait until you popped it out and I had no choice but to pick up after your kid like I have for you for the last three decades?”

“No, I--”

“With all due respect, we were talking about the very opposite of that,” Andy rose calmly. 

“You fucked a married man?! His wife is on fucking life support!” Your mother shouted. “Fuck’s sake, and you!” She turned on Andy. “You’re both disgusting.”

“Mom,” You warned.

“This isn’t happening in my house.” She scoffed. “None of it. You take your things and go with this… this man.” She raged as she marched towards you. “Get out. You’re done leeching off of us.”

“Leeching? Well, mom, you can see if you can scrape together my half of the rent yourself as you sitting around here watching your goddamn soaps.” You snapped.

“Get the fuck out of my house, you ungrateful bitch!” She shoved you and you barely caught the chair to keep from falling.

She stumbled back herself as Andy grabbed her arm and spun her around. His eyes were lit with fury as he squeezed her shoulders.

“You don’t touch her. She’s carrying your grandchild. My child. You will not touch her, ever again.” He growled.

“You--you--” Your mother wriggled against him and brought her index up to jab in his face. “I bet your son fucking did it.”

“You shut your mouth,” He said slowly, quietly.

“Andy,” You rushed over and clung to his wrist. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I don’t need your help,” Your mother tried to elbow you away.

Andy flung her aside and she caught herself on the ottoman. He turned to block you from her.

“I’ll call the cops,” She threatened as she righted herself.

“Go ahead. They should be here to supervise your forced eviction.” He crossed his arms. “Your daughter pays her portion of the rent, that means she has the right to take her belongings with her and the time it takes to do so. For your own safety as much as hers, I think maybe the police are a good idea.”

Your mother’s face wrinkled, first with anger, then a slight trickle of fear. She stared up at Andy then glanced around him at you. She shook her head and smiled darkly.

“Fine, get your things,” She backed away. “I’ll tell your father you said goodbye.”

She rolled her eyes and shooed you with her hand as she stomped back through to the dining room. You heard her footsteps on the kitchen tile and the groan of the screen door before it clattered. She would hide with your father in the garage until you were gone. You didn’t expect a proper farewell.

You covered your face with your hands and held in the scream that bubbled in your chest.

“What the fuck have you done?” You asked as you dropped your hands.

“It’s fine. I told you, I’ll take care of you.” He turned slowly to face you.

“No, you won’t.” You spat. “There’s my choice.”

You spun as you grabbed your bag and blustered away from him up the stairs. He followed you to your room and you ignored him as you dialed your phone and pulled open the drawers of your dresser. You held the phone to your ear with one hand as you bent to pull out your suitcase from under your bed.

“Felicia? Hey, how are you?” You asked as you started to dump your clothes by the armful into the bag.

“Good,” She sang. “What’s up? Looking for another girls’ night?”

“Not exactly,” You muttered. “Look, I really don’t wanna do this to you but it’ll only be a couple nights. Um…” You stopped and rubbed your forehead as you turned to watch Andy staring at your bookcase. “I got in another fight with my mom and she’s… kicked me out. I need--”

“Ohhh,” She uttered. 

“Ohhh, what?” You stopped as Andy took a book out and opened it.

“Well, you remember Benny? He’s kinda… here for a while.” She said.

“Oh,” You nodded and your heart sank.”

“I’m sorry, if I--”

“No, no, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. I’ll find something. It’s fine.” 

“I really am--”

“Please, don’t be sorry,” You cursed in your head. “Look, go have fun with Benny. I’ll figure it out.”

“Well don’t… Well, just let me know, okay?”

“Right, bye.” You hung up.

You scrolled through your contacts; Shaileen had moved away last month, Deena had roommates, Marcy had kids and a husband, and the rest were just… strangers by now.

“So…” Andy closed the book.

“Don’t, okay?” You opened the second drawer and emptied it. “Just for a little bit.”

As you opened the third drawer he came to help you. You shoved your heavy old laptop into the mesh pocket and as you closed the suitcase he stopped you.

“One condition,” He said.

“One?” You shook your head.

“Call the doctor. Make an appointment.” He stated. “I’ll be going with you.”

“Fine, but I have my own conditions.” You countered.

“I’d love to hear them,” He chuckled.

“I want my space. That means no touching,” You backed away from him, “That means you leave me be. I go to work, I come home, I sleep, I go to your dumb appointments, and you leave me alone.”

“It’s my house, not a motel,” He said.

“Motel? That’s a good idea.” You shrugged.

“Which you could afford for maybe a week, I’m sure.” He pushed back his jacket as he gripped his hips. “I’m offering you a place to live. We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole six months left to do that.”

“Six months?” You rubbed your cheek. “Andy…”

As far as I’ve seen it, you’ve lost all your leverage in this,” He said. “I’m doing you a favour because as it stands, I’m your only option.”

You chewed your lip and narrowed your eyes. You swallowed and nodded.

“I gotta get the rest of my stuff,” You said softly. “That okay with you?”

“Sure,” He finished zipping up your suitcase. “This one ready to go?”

“Yeah,” You threw up your hands. “Sure.”

He walked out with your bag and you grabbed a tote and crossed the hall to the bathroom. You filled it with your shampoo, body wash, lotions, toothbrush, and other toiletries. As you went back into the hallway, he was there, by your bedroom door, waiting. 

You slipped past him into your room to grab your purse and shoved it into the top of the bigger bag. You came back out as you slung the straps over your shoulder.

“I don’t care about the rest,” You said. “She can keep the books.”

He followed you outside and as you approached the driveway, the garage door slid open. You stopped as your father appeared on the other side and Andy caught your shoulders to keep from colliding with you. Your mother scowled from behind your father.

“You goin’?” He asked.

“She wants me out.” You shrugged.

“My house too,” He said. Always a man of few words.

“So… you gonna make her keep me?” You challenged.

“You keepin’ the kid?”

You looked over your shoulder at Andy and sighed. You turned back and nodded.

“Sorry,” He shook his head. 

“Yeah, me too,” You swallowed the bitterness on your tongue. “I figured as much.”

You spun away and continued down the driveway.

“You touch my wife?” You heard your dad ask Andy. You stopped and glanced back.

“I restrained her from harming your daughter.” Andy said evenly. 

Your dad frowned and looked at your mother as she avoided his gaze.

“I can’t abide it in my household, you understand?” Your father said.

“Not my house,” Andy said. “But you’re welcome to see your grandchild when it’s born. Welcome to check in on your daughter.” He started to step away and paused. “This wasn’t my call.”

He nodded towards your mother then made his way to you. He touched your arm gently and turned you away from the garage.

“Let’s go.” He muttered as he ushered you down to the curb.

He took your bag and dropped it in the backseat. You got in as he did, quiet. You buckled in as he started the car and you bent forward to grip your head. You sat back heavily as he began to drive.

“It was your call. I’m not stupid.” You glared at the dashboard. “This is exactly what you wanted.”

He didn’t answer as he turned the corner. He hit a button on the wheel and began to flip through the radio stations. He settled on a classic rock station and hummed along.

‘It’s down to me, yes it is.The way she does just what she’s told, down to me. The change has come. She’s under my thumb. Ah, ah, say it’s alright…’

[intheticklecloset]

Question: Do you edit your fics yourself or hbe an editing program like grammarly?

I’m heavily considering getting it, but after budgeting, I’m seriously wondering if it’s worth the extra $13 a month. Because would it help me get more commissions? That’s my main thing. And if I’m gonna go back and edit allll my stuff imma need something to motivate me/make it worth it.

And there’s a lotta stuff the google doc don’t catch. And while I understand the wanting to be professional and such and do research and character studies and learn how to write better...it’s fanfiction. The well written ones are great, but considering how fast it’s consumed and how high the demand is, is it really worth it slowing down and possibly jeopardizing your small income you get from writing, just to edit it?

Okay I’m rambling, but do you use an editing program? And do you think it’d be worth it?

To answer your original question: I edit my own work. I don't use a service to do that for me. I don't need one.

To add my thoughts onto the rest of what you said: Before you go spending $13/mo on something to help you edit your fanfiction for you, consider whether paying that amount is worth it in relation to how much you make/hope to make doing commissions. If you're making like $100/mo on fanfic commissions then sure, it might be worth looking into to polish up your work a little more. But if you're only getting one or two commissions a month, it's probably not worth it. You'd be losing money that way rather than making money. And like you said - it's fanfiction. At the end of the day the demand and consumerism don't 100% care about how well written it is as long as it's what they're looking for. (In most cases; obviously there are exceptions.) And your following is already pretty good as it is, which is awesome. I'm not entirely sure it would be worth it for you to put money into learning how to polish your writing a little more. Obviously you can if you want to and if you think it would be worth it. You can totally ignore what I'm saying if you want to. That's just my personal thoughts on the matter.

Either way I wish you luck!

[echonidae]

let’s talk commission stuff!

hey folks !!  so i’ve been reorganizing myself to get commissions back on track, and i’ve got some things i’d like to get your input on, if it isn't too much trouble !! ;v;

it’s a long one, so under the cut it goes sdfghghj

a slightly too long tl;dr because apparently this is a 10min read (i'm so sorry): commission revamp on the works! no date for it yet. gonna be easing myself back with just icons for a while at first (no date for that either thoug, not yet), then the revamp will be in full swing with all the other commission options, and the pricetable for them will be changed in the future as well. 

some questions: 

1) i’m rethinking commission types, is there anything you’d like to see as a new option?  2) considering i tend to open only a handful slots every batch, i'm thinking about implementing a waitlist (with a bit of a twist: it's split between Current Batch and Next Batch; a little more complicated than a regular ol' waitlist, allows me to get through some of the waitlist queue as work gets done). would that interest you or is it too much of a headache? 100% open to suggestions! 3) i’m organizing a board on trello for commission stuffs !! any suggestions or specific things you’d like to see there?

so! it’s already been over a year since i last opened commissions and i’d very much like to get back to them ;o; it’s been way too long! i miss working with you folks aaa

i don’t have a reopening date yet, but i’m planning on opening only icons for a while to ease back into the process. later on, i'll open the other commission options too. you see, i’m working on a full revamp of the whole thing, including the terms of service and that info image with the examples (because looking back, i think it no longer really represents my current style and how i really do commissions in terms of just... plain old rendering and polishing), so i’ll be working on new drawings and a new layout too, and all that good jazz :D

for full disclosure, along with this overhaul of the terms and such, i will be updating prices too c: i’m still working on the new values though, since i need to figure out what commission types/options the overhaul will have. which brings me to the first question here: what would you like to see as a commission option? for reference, here’s the og options:

(hoo i need to redo those examples *sweats*)

also, one more thing i’d like to note about this revamp situation: there isn’t a whole lot that’s changing really haha it’s just been a long, long time since i last did commissions, so i’m reviewing terms and i might change stuff that’s become outdated, or that needs clarification. if you’ve commissioned me before, the process itself is still the same so no worries! once the revamp is out, i’ll point out anything that has changed too c:

in regards to price changes, those first icon-only batches will be in their original price, and the new prices will only take effect once the revamp with the other options is out. it will be quite a while before until that, but if you have any concerns, feel free to message me any time ! either way, i’ll keep you folks posted !! i guess i also could post the new prices before implementing them, if that helps!

so, moving on! now to the waitlist situation <:3c as in, i’ve never had one, a while back someone asked if i did, and now that i’m reorganizing things, i’m wondering if it would be good to implement one :3c feel free to send any questions !! or suggestions!! i'm all ears!!!

usually i only open a handful of slots for each batch, right, and once they're all claimed, the commissions are closed until all the slots are finished. folks who missed the slots have to wait until the next batch, and sometimes those batches take a while to come back, and i usually just message those who missed the opening once the new batch is announced.

what i'm thinking for the waitlist is, i'll open it along with the batch of commissions, and limit it to a specific number of spots or close it by a specific date, whichever comes first. to apply for it, people would just need to send the form and i can tell them immediately whether or not i can draw their request, and then they'll be placed on the waitlist in the order they’ve been accepted c: pretty standard stuff.

here’s the important bit: that list is basically split in two. the first handful of people on the list, corresponding to the amount of slots for the current batch, will be reached out to as i finish working on the claimed slots, and then anyone else on the waitlist will be contacted shortly before the next batch. if, by the time the list closes, not all the opened slots have been claimed, folks on the list will simply be moved up the queue accordingly c: all of it would be discussed individually, of course, and very well disclosed in the commission info!

there are other points to it as well: anyone would be able to request a spot on the next batch's waitlist instead of the current one, and anyone can leave either list at any point. folks who had already claimed a slot when it first opened would only be able to apply for the next batch's waitlist (to give everyone a chance of getting one), and people on the list, either for the current or the next round of commissions, can be skipped up to a limit if they're unable to continue the order once i get to them.

oh and, before i forget, with the waitlist in place, i think i’d no longer be able to put slots on hold as i used to (as in, before paying the first invoice), as it’d be unfair to folks on the list. in that case, the person would be placed on the list as well if they want to, and contacted as soon as possible : )

also the "up to 2 slots per person" thing would be on thin ice too haha

anyway, this is kind of what i intended to do back then, with reopening slots as work gets finished, but never got around to. i want to make sure i don’t swamp myself with work, but also have it so that folks who want slots have a good chance of getting them, whether for the current batch or the next, as there's only so many slots i can open and work on at once, and time zones and irl things are to be considered too for anyone interested c:

it also makes it easier for me to keep track of messaging folks about new slots and such, and the list would be made public and easily available for consulting too : D more on this later!

so how's this looking? i've never done waitlists before and barely knew how they're supposed to work before starting to reorganize things, so please do feel free to voice your thoughts !! i’m 100% open to suggestions !!! do you think this system would work out for you? any concerns? if anything is unclear feel free to point it out, i'll do my best to explain the process or change stuff that doesn't quite work!!

so!!! now to the very last thing i wanted to talk about ! trello! 

i’m making a little trello board for updates on commission stuff! my commission info page here on tumblr and on deviantart both have this little section for updates on each slot’s progress, but i admittedly didn't do a good job keeping them updated (and constantly updating two things in different places just. kinda sucks.), so i’ve been diving into trello to unify that update section in one place and keep things nice and organized and transparent : ) it would be super useful for keeping track of the waitlist too, if that becomes a thing, or for updates on commission status and such!

so far i’m only testing things out, so it’s looking like this right now (sorry for the tiny image!):

(the board is lying btw, commissions are very much closed haha) (also if it’s basically unreadable, here’s the upload on sta.sh)

with all those little lists, the “available slots” and “sketch” and “lineart” and whatnot, i would be moving the card along the process : D and adding the appropriate labels, of course

this way i can have those halfsteps labelled too (working on/halfway through/finishing), since there’s only so many colors i can use without making it confusing (and tbh i’m already not too thrilled about color labels as it is, but it beats typing each individual status, and i’d imagine it’s more readable for folks consulting the list as well)

i really like how this looks so far in terms of organization but i’m unsure if the horizontal scrolling is anything but annoying, specially to folks on mobile (with the way i divide my screen on desktop, it certainly isn’t ideal either), so if you have any experience with that, feel free to let me know your thoughts!! there are a thousand different ways to organize this, and this is all a work in progress too c:

so! anything specific you folks would like to see on trello? i know this is a fairly common tool for commission queues and info and such but i’m super new to this platform, so please feel free to send suggestions! ♥

anyway yeah! that’s it! ;0; !

i’m sorry for the super long post, i’ve just been thinking about a lotta stuff haha i feel like i don’t interact a whole lot as it is, and since commissions are very much a team effort, i do want to get input from you folks on it c: it’s good to get a fresh perspective as well!

thank you so much for reading this far !! let me know your thoughts !!! :D ♥

[copias-thrall]

@makeupmonsters​

He came in by the open window again (and maybe that’s why you left it open, but: shh), hands scrabbling for purchase before he hefted his skinny, noodle body by increments into your bedroom. It took him what felt like 10min, during which you’d only continued painting your toenails.

After heaving himself in, he sits at the foot of your sill, panting.

“No, no,” he wheezes, “I’m all right. No need to get up.”

“K,” you say as you spread your toes, assessing the paint job.

“Bitch. I’m gonna dick you down so good.”

You turn to him. “I can see that”

He gives you the finger. 

There’s a glass of water on your night table, and you pass it over to him; Mary drinks it down in big, greedy gulps—1/3 of it spilling out the side of his mouth and dribbling down his neck to stain the collar of his tee. He hands it back to you, empty, as he wipes off his chin with the back of his hand.

“Thanks,” he says.

You shrug. “You better be sweating it out over me soon.”

He smiles with too much teeth. “That can be arranged.”

Soon enough he’s on you—and you can only hope your toe polish is dry enough—with too much tongue and all of his weight pressing into you. He’d taken off his studded, denim vest—but his belts still jab into you, so you squirm out from under him and onto your side.

“Fuck,” he says as he slobbers onto the side of your cheek, “I can’t wait to feel you around me. I’m gonna get you all dirty.”

You’re pretty sure he means in a sexy way, but with his hygiene, he could also mean literal dirt and fleas. You try not to think about it, instead wiggling around so that you’re grinding your ass against his erection.

He sucks hard on your neck as he ruts into you. “Mmm, fuck yeah. Lemme feel that sweet ass, baby.”

His hand creeps under the hem of your shirt, splaying against your stomach before it inches closer, closer to the waistband of your sleep pants. A part of you can’t wait to feel his fingers on you and to have him drawing pleasure out of you … but a bigger part can’t help but remember the dark crescents under his nails and ringing his cuticles, the dirt embedded in the whorls of his fingertips. And—as much as you want his cock—you can’t help but remember the smell between his legs that had you gagging for an entirely different reason last time.

All too soon your brain can’t help but remind you of the rumors that you’ve heard—and Mary does nothing to dissuade—of what he gets up to in graveyards.

Suddenly you’re jumping off the bed, away from his touch; his hands are still positioned as if he were still holding you, and the bulge in his jeans is obscene. He looks up at you, startled.

“What? Did I hurt you?”

“I just um,” you stutter as you edge toward the door, “I just need a second.”

You see his brows furrow, his mouth almost forming a word, before you’re fumbling with your doorknob and hightailing it to the bathroom. Once there, you sit on the toilet seat with your head in your hands. The throb between your legs is insistent—but you can’t unknow your thoughts on Mary’s … grime. He’s only a little selfish as a lover—better than you’d initially given him credit for the first night you’d taken him home in a tipsy haze—so you really were looking forward to the dicking down he was going to give you.

But … you’re sober now and: gross.

If only he … . And just like that, you have an idea.

It takes longer than you expected—and honestly you’re half certain Mary probably got bored and left—but when you shimmy back into your room in nothing but your robe, Mary’s still sprawled on your bed, nails half done in the color you’d been using: jungle red.

He looks up at you with a soft Dafuq? you think is meant to convey concern.

You lower your voice to give it a “sexy” intonation. “I prepared something special for you. How ‘bout you strip and follow me, hmm?”

A vulpine smile cracks Mary’s face, and he’s all at once trying to scramble off the bed and take off his clothes as he stumbles behind you. You back into the bathroom—your hand toying with the tie at your waist—as Mary yanks off his ripped tee by the back collar and hops out of his jeans, his clothes now a treasure trail on the floor.

By the time you’ve backed yourself into the tiled wall—your robe undone and dangerously close to parting—Mary is just down to his holy, threadbare boxer briefs. He’s too fixated on the sliver of skin that you’re showing to really be too much aware of anything else in the bathroom. He leers at you—biting his plump lower lip—as his hands go for you.

Which is when—smile firmly fixed on your face—you give him a little shove. He wobbles unsteadily, a look of confusion on his face, and you give another. This time, his arms windmill out, and he grabs onto your shower curtain to right himself … but you’re already right there, giving a jab to his chest. Pulling half the curtain off it’s hooks with a plink plink plink, the back of Mary’s knees hit the lip of the tub, and he goes splashing into the hot, soapy water filling it.

A tidal wave sloshes over the side, splatting on the floor and bathmat, as Mary lets out an ungainly GAH before the receding oceans close back up over him. Even though you’re now fully exposed, you can’t help but cackle at Mary’s situation: he’s half sprawled in the tub, his legs sticking up and out, as his half-wet hair sticks to his face, soapy rivulets dripping down his cheeks. He’s eyes flash with murderous intent … but honestly he just looks like a wet, angry cat.

“What. The. Fuck,” he spits as his hands slip slide against the bottom of the tub for purchase.

You grab his scrawny ankles and chuck them into the bathwater, sock and all, even as he squawks in protest.

“Your dick is good, Goore—but you’re not sticking anything anywhere until I’m sure you’re squeaky clean of whatever the fuck it is you get into.”

“Fuck you, get off,” he bitches as he trashes about, water going everywhere.

You grab a loofa you’d had the forethought to soap up, and start scrubbing—behind his ears as well as his neck and shoulders.

“Fuck, all right—Jesus,” he whines as he squirms away from you. “Lemme fucking do it.” He yanks the loofa away from you, never breaking his glare at you as he begins to scrub himself down. At this point his hair is wet, limp against the sides of his skull and his forehead. The remnants of his makeup are the black ring around his eyes and the white cake sticking to his hairline.

“Don’t forget—” you start as you point to his face, and he snarls at you.

“Bitch, I’m getting to it. Fuck off.”

Settling onto the toilet seat, you draw your robe back together.

Mary’s eyes follow you. “Aw, c’mon!” he whines.

You put your bare foot up on the tub lip, curling your toes over it.

“Be a good boy and clean your ass, and I’ll take the robe off.”

Mary scowls at you and crosses his arms.

“You’re an awful lotta work for a casual lay.”

You shrug unaffectedly, even though your heart is thumping.

“Then go fuck someone else. I’m not stopping you.”

You put on an air of nonchalance that you don’t feel as you as Mary stare at each other. Finally, he lets out a huff and a “whatever,” before he’s peeling off his boxers. He throws them out of the tub, and they hit the wall with a splat before they slide down to the floor in a sloshy mound.

Mary cleans himself almost shyly, and you close your eyes as you rest your head against the side of your sink. There’s some splashing around, and then he says, almost quietly,

“Ok, I’m done.”

You open your eyes and look at him, pale and naked in the now-scummy water. He’s still glaring at you, but the intensity has dimmed somewhat as he crosses his arms in front of himself. Smiling, you untie your robe, letting it pool at your feet before you remember the puddle of water. Mary’s eyes laser onto your naked skin before you’re stepping into the water.

“Um—”

“Shh,” you say, putting a finger to his lips before flicking the drain lever open with your toe. You reach past his sitting form as your fumble to turn on the shower.

“What the f—” he sputters, but you’re pulling him up and drawing him into a kiss. As the spray sputters from cold to hot over you two, you reach down to grab at Mary’s ass, bringing him flush with you.

“Yeah, ok,” he mumbles into your mouth.

Twining your fingers into the wet mess of his flat hair, you say, “If we’re only going to get dirty again, I think we should stay here.” Your hand slides to wrap around his half-hard dick, and he moans, quickly reaching down to touch you. Even as the two of you pet at each other, your one hand reaches up to grab his jaw so that he meets your eyes.

“You may be dicking me, Goore—but I’m the one in charge. And next time I expect you to be clean, or I’ll peel those digits off before you get halfway through my window. Got it?”

He swallows hard—adam’s apple bobbing—before giving you a short, curt nod, his eyes blown wide.

“Good. Now, let’s get filthy.”