#I haven’t seen a better reflection of me in anyone

[drunk-poets-society]

That strawberry shortbread part in Norwegian Wood is hitting extremely hard right now I’ve never related to a character more oh my god

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 3

Previous. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes/language, tension

Summary: having Paige’s number means she can bother you whenever she wants, but maybe a night out with her isn’t a bother at all.

A/n: enjoy guys 😇lmk what you think of this one

YOU

is this paige?

???

Has anyone else given you their number since you got here?

YOU

no…

PAIGE

Aight, so who else would it be then? 🤘🏼

YOU

i should’ve thrown out that napkin tbh!🙂

PAIGE

Ignoring that. How’s the hangover?

YOU

it’s ok. getting coffee helped ig

PAIGE

Having another night out might help too…if u fw that

YOU

with you? id rather die then “fw that” 🙏

PAIGE

Ok rot in ya hotel room see if I care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Seen.

PAIGE

Actually nvm I feel bad for ur miserable ass. U shud fr go out and see what Connecticut has to offer. Ever been to Gianni’s?

YOU

no i haven’t, I’ve only been here for like two days. is it italian food?

PAIGE

Only the best in town 😉 u shud def go

YOU

ugh I would but i have to see if elaine can take me cus my teammates are busy

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

YOU

typing…

YOU CAN FEEL yourself getting socially drained as you text her, at least that’s what you tell yourself. Paige is infuriating and arrogant, which comes with the deadly additions of charisma and the ability to keep you on edge with every word spoken, or even typed.

You’d always known of this, even before your game with her that day. A player like Paige can be hard to come across; perfectly capable, talented and independent yet somehow the best team player out there, sharing passes she can without a doubt make. Why? Because she doesn’t need to prove anything.

It often bothered you, especially since you constantly needed to prove yourself during the start of your college career. You took every shot you could get your hands on, and she gave shots away like candy whilst still having a huge reputation as a player. Obviously it went deeper than that, but the simple fact just stuck to your brain.

You can’t help but recall her face, inches from yours attempting to pry your ball from your grasp. Like she was deserving, like it was hers for the taking. She had made a similar face on the panel where she dissed you soon afterwards, and then again while watching you at the bar, and just before writing her number on the napkin. You wondered if she was making that face right now as she texts you.

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

The text is simple but it summons some sort of unique feeling in you. Paige Bueckers is offering to pick you up in her car, on her night off, and take you to a restaurant. And you, for whatever reason, are considering saying yes.

Sighing to yourself, you weigh your options. Option one: you sit around your hotel alone till your teammates come back, most probably drunk from a bar since it’s a Saturday. Option two: you ask Elaine to take you out once again, even though you’re probably gonna see her the whole week you’re here. Option three: you let the girl who shit-talked you at a post game conference take you out for dinner.

YOU

i guess i should go out. DONT act like ur doing me a favour tho….n if I don’t have fun i’m blocking u.

PAIGE

Drop the addy. I’ll come by in an hour

Seen.

After hurriedly pulling yourself together, taking an Advil, checking out the restaurant’s Instagram and getting ready you can’t help but find your heart steadily hammering inside of you. Paige is coming to your hotel. You’re gonna be in her car. She’s taking you to her favourite restaurant. This has to be the most peculiar thing that has happened all year.

-

The car ride is significantly better then you expected it would be. Paige adamantly seems to prevent any room for awkward silence to seep through, commenting on your outfit and filling the vehicle with music that makes the interior buzz from the volume. She has a free look on her face, chair reclined more then you’d dare if you were in the drivers seat, hair blowing in her face from the windows being down.

“I’m surprised you’re driving me out.” You say, finally airing what was on your mind.

Paige shrugs. “Didn’t feel like drinking today. Plus, I’m in the mood to be generous and show you what Storrs has.”

“If someone told me I’d be hanging out with Paige Bueckers like a week ago, I think I’d be fucking appalled. Or disgusted. Or both.” You laugh.

She chuckles, glancing at you sneakily. “You swear a lot, don’t you?”

“Awe my bad.” You pout, giving her a fake-concerned look. “Forgot you can’t handle a little language.”

“I can handle it,” she grumbles. “I just think cursing is better for specific situations.”

“Like what?”

Paige wets her lips almost sheepishly, but she keeps her eyes straight on the road. “Like sex.”

A beat passes before you respond “Sorry I couldn’t savour a couple words for you and your little kink.”

She looks over at you now, and you meet her gaze as equally as you can. She just lets out a smile, shaking her head to herself as she pulls into the parking lot. You try to ignore the elevator-sinking feeling in your stomach from her words as you get out from the car.

The restaurant is beautiful. It’s cozy, ambient and well decorated. Not too fancy and not too full, just perfect. You’re seated in a more secluded area, per Paige’s request. She orders for you, insisting she knows exactly what to get for the best possible experience.

The food is good, and you don’t feel the need to hide it from Paige, who visibly grows at your praise for the place she picked out.

“So, are you jus in Connecticut for Elaine?” She says.

“Not really.” You reply. “Me and some of the others are just doing a little East Coast road-trip. I wasn’t really interested in coming to Storrs, but it made sense to come by and see her.”

“For a whole week?” She raises her eyebrow. “Seems like you’re close.”

“I was only gonna stay in Storrs for a couple days, then go to Hartford but the girls seem to like it here.” You shrug. “They think it’s cute, being a small town and all, but it’s pretty boring if you’re not a student.”

“It’s better if you’re with fun people.” She smiles.

“I hope you don’t think you’re fun.”

“Compared to Elaine I definitely am.” Paige scoffs.

You can’t help but feel a little more hostility than humour in her tone.

“Do you guys know each other?” You ask, as sly and innocent as you can muster. Paige seems hesitant.

“Nah.” She finally decides. “I mean, we’ve talked before. Ion know her personally.”

“It’s kinda funny, she said she doesn’t pay much attention to you but I think she might have a little crush.” You laugh.

Paige visibly stiffens at this, which catches you by surprise.

In a split second she regains her calm, unbothered composure. “What has she said?”

“Not much.” You shrug. “Just seems a little interested.”

Paige’s jaw clenches for a moment, and you’re not surprised when she changes the subject. “How many people have been on your case since I posted that picture of us from the bar on my story?”

“God, so many.” You laugh, shaking your head. “You?”

“You don’t even wanna know.” She scoffs. “Not sure why everyone was so crazy bout it though, s’not like we were beefing for real.”

“Right!” You say, happy she seems to be on the same page. “It was just some petty crap. I guess people just really were hoping there would be some rivalry.”

You think for a moment, before saying. “Maybe we should keep this drama thing up. Might be fun.”

“It’s a lil too late for that,” Paige shakes her head with a slight smile. “remember how KK and Ice were on live yesterday at the coffee shop? Yeah, we kinda were in the background at some point. People saw us talking.”

“You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. There are edits and everything.”

You rest your head in your hands, elbows on the table, lessening the proximity between you and her. “I only get into these weird ass situations when I interact with you, Paige.”

She sits up in her seat, blue eyes quickly looking you up and down. ��Yet you’re still here.”

“Girl’s gotta have fun.” You shrug. Her foot hits yours under the table, her eyebrow raised as if challenging you. You have a sudden thought of going under the table and letting your hands unzip her cargo pants, but instead you just kick her back.

“Wanna go?” She asks. You don’t want to go back to the hotel, and she seems to pick up on it. “The area we’re in is nice. We can walk around a bit.”

You smile and nod. “Split the bill?”

“Fuck no.” She shoots you a look, pulling out her credit card from the back of her phone.

“You cursed!” You exclaim, to which she scoffs.

“I said it’s alright in specific situations.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Well we’re not having sex, are we?”

The way her eyelashes flutter at your question gives you jitters. “Aight, stop talking.” She finally manages to respond. You just send her a look that you hope makes her nervous.

-

“You’re not funny.” She grumbles, attempting to grab your phone from you.

“Back off, Bueckers! I’m serious.” You laugh, sidestepping her with your phone above your head. The street was empty and the lights were on, putting the two of you in a yellow glow against the night. You’d been walking around the neighbourhood, observing houses and learning a bit about Storrs for the past hour.

“Give me your phone, I know you ain’t deleting those.” She huffs, grabbing for your phone. You try to escape her grasp but she’s got longer limbs, so eventually your phone is in her pocket and she’s wearing a proud look on her face.

It’s nice to walk in the quiet of evening, her beside you. You have no idea where you are but you can’t help but trust she can get you back to the car in no time. Not just yet though.

You turn to look at Paige almost shamelessly. There’s just so much to observe with her. Her confident posture, toothy smile, sleek straightened blonde hair, even the baggy cargo pants and sweater. She always looked good, it never failed to annoy you.

“Either your pants are too tight or crazy baggy.” You note. She just raises her eyebrow.

“Sounds like you just want me to take my pants off at this point.”

“Wouldn’t mind a little show.” You reply almost instantly, shocking yourself at the surge of confidence. She doesn’t seem taken aback, in fact she’s intrigued.

“Is that your usual routine? Have a meal out then have a meal at home?”

“Maybe it is.” You shrug. “I never object to a wine n dine.”

“And what exactly would you object to?”

“Cocky girls who think they’re the shit.” You say, turning your head to face her. You don’t mean to target her, but she simply smiles.

“Is it really being cocky if I can back it up though?” Paige asks quietly. You’re not walking anymore, stuck in place on an empty path between buildings. She’s closing in on you until your back hits a brick wall. The way Paige is staring down at you, hands in her pockets, lip between her teeth. It’s nothing you’d object to, ever.

“I won’t believe it till I see it.” You mutter, holding her eye. The air is tense in a new way that you haven’t felt with her since you first met in the bar. Her face is entrancing.

Paige’s hands lift your jaw upwards, and she leans into your ear. “You might not see it,” she mumbles, breath hot against your skin. “But you’ll definitely feel it.”

When she pulls back from your ear she stays hovering just above you, hands chastely holding your head up. You’re in the perfect position to kiss, and you can’t stop your eyes from darting between her electric stare to her lush, pink lips.

You can literally feel her breath on your mouth when a piercing ring cuts through the moment. It’s coming from her pocket, and she pulls out your phone. Paige’s face twists as she reads the screen. “It’s Elaine.”

“Just- just decline it.” You rush out, not caring how desperate you sound. You can feel how wet you are, and the lack of heat against you is blaring.

“She texted you too.” Paige scoffs. “She’s waiting for you at your hotel.”

You don’t even know what to say. Paige’s face is expressionless. You’re disappointed, but there’s no point in begging. Nothing really happened.

“Let’s get you home.” She says, starting to walk back from where you came. “Shouldn’t keep her waiting.” Her tone is dripping with toxicity. It makes you shiver.

[miyacults]

begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

[slutforitoshi]

sae itoshi - ring *:･ﾟ✧

ft. sae x f!reader, 18+ minors dni 

cw: cheating/infidelity, fingering, unprotected sex, sae is mean, you will feel bad for rin but horny for sae

synopsis: you finally meet your future brother-in-law, and he is more than pleased to see you

wc: 2.04k

A/N: i wrote this right before my physio midterm hopefully there’s no typos oops 

“sae that’s amazing!” his mother exclaimed in response to his news of him moving back to japan. a family dinner was called with some promise of a big announcement and this must have been it. you guessed sae wanted to tell his family before the media announced his relocation.

“what happened to mr. ‘I’m too good for japan,’” rin, your fiancee, sneered albeit jokingly. although you weren’t technically part of the family (yet), the itoshis insisted on having you over. this was the first time you’ve seen sae though. he was always abroad.

“well someone’s gotta humble you here,” sae rolled his eyes, reflecting the same energy back to his brother. you could see the resemblance. teal eyes, fair skin. all similar right down to their serious, deadpanned demeanor. the biggest difference was his hair, a light maroon color, swept up to reveal his forehead. you wondered if rin would ever style his similarly if you asked him…shit. he caught you looking for a little too long.

and he smirks. the heat rising to your cheeks does not make it any better and you quickly look away fiegning innocence. you try to make up excuses in your head, moreso to convince yourself than anyone else though. yeah, you were just looking because this was the first time you met him. it’s normal to be curious about someone new.

rin’s hands stir you from your thoughts, now settled on your own. the glimmering ring on your left hand, that you were prideful of, suddenly burned on your finger. like it was punishing you for your thoughts just minutes ago. 

“so how long you guys been together?” sae asks pointedly at rin, although his eyes were fixed on you. you couldn’t look back directly, out of fear of the blush that might rise again.

“3 years? we’ve been engaged for about half a year though.”

“she’s pretty, i’d always known you had a good eye”, sae responds, still staring. it felt like a hole was being bored into your skull. and there was the blush you tried so hard to repress. he thinks you’re pretty. you suddenly felt like a schoolgirl, hearing that her crush might like her, too.

the conversation shifts away from you thankfully, giving you a second to finally breathe. calm down. that is his brother. you should not be feeling like this. your eyes betray you though, sneaking glances at sae. what was it about him that captivated you so much? 

“hey, are you ok?” rin’s question jolts you back again, him noticing you haven’t really been present in current conversation. your surprise causes you to drop your spoonful of soup…right into your lap. 

“oh my gosh,” you stumble over your words, embarrassed. 

“it’s alright, do you want me to lend you a pair of pants?” his mom asks, so unaware of the sinful thoughts that were circling your head about her son (and not the one you’re engaged to).

“it’s okay!” you interject, “it’s only a small stain. it should come off with a bit of scrubbing���

you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to clean up the mess. both on your pants and in your mind.

the faucet running quickly washes the stain and the thoughts away. you look down at your ring again. it’s beautiful, like your relationship. too beautiful to throw away over some silly thoughts. reassuring yourself, you focus back onto the spilled soup.

you hear the bathroom door handle turn, and you continue to scrub at the stain without looking up, assuming it’s just rin checking on you.

“hey,” a voice says. it’s not rin. his voice was more sultry, mature. 

you look up and all the thoughts you’d work so hard to scrub away are crawling back. 

“um hi…i was just about to go back out so you don’t have to-” your meek voice is cut off.

“does rin satisfy you?” he says bluntly. wow, right to the point huh.

“why is that any of your business?” you try to sound strong, but shift your gaze to the ground, scared that your composure might crumble if you look into those teal eyes.

“that’s not what it looks like to me,” sae says simply, stepping closer to you. your eyes stay fixed on the ground.

“you were practically begging me to fuck you through your pretty lashes. rin’s not the only one who has a good eye. who do you think trained him to read intentions?” he continues, seeing right through you. 

“look, it doesn’t matter what I think. rin and I are engaged. i’m not throwing all that away for some stupid thoughts.” you stood firm, but the ring began to burn on your finger again. 

“who said you had to throw it away? as long as you know how to keep secrets that is” he’s even closer to you now. one more step and he’d be able to touch you, and why did you not hate that?

you pursed your lips, unable to deny your attraction now. the ring was scalding against you, and a pit in your stomach began to grow. he took yet another step closer and now you can smell him. cologne. a deep scent, not too musky though…just how you liked it. your resolve was tearing at the seams.

“you better make your decision soon. not much longer until rin gets suspicious” sae half-cages you in, putting one arm past your waist to lean against the bathroom counter. you could easily go around the other side to exit, but as his cologne invades your surroundings, your thoughts surround you. and you lean in.

his hands move quickly to your sides, holding you tight now that you’ve made your decision. his strong arms hoist you up onto the counter where his hand once rested. 

his lips were soft, but he kissed with such aggression which you happily reciprocated. your movements were driven by pure lust. desperation. when was the last time you felt like this? rin was a gentle lover most of the time, unless you pleaded with him to be a little rough. 

“you better not be thinking of him right now. focus on me,” sae spat, as if reading your mind once again. 

your pants were quickly pulled off, now damp in two places. his right hand was immediately in between, pulling the thin cloth to the side.

“you’re soaked,” he exasperates, and it was the first hint of a smile you’d seen all night. his lips were on you again, although you found it increasingly difficult to kiss back. not when his fingers were circling your clit at a fervent speed. then, they entered, earning a gasp from you.

“s-so full” you stutter at the sudden entry. 

“you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to take my cock,” he mutters, mostly to himself. you could only respond in moans, not even caring if they could reach the dining table where the rest of the family sat. sae seemed to care though, clamping his free hand over your mouth so that only muted vibrations could escape. 

two fingers became three, and you welcomed the stretch. sae had clearly done this before, being able to curl them to hit just the right gummy spot that took rin months to even find. 

you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. if he continued, you would surely reach your first orgasm of the night. he doesn’t give you that luxury though. you’re on a time crunch, remember?

he takes his palm off your mouth, and reaches down to fumble his belt buckle open. and then you’re met with his cock. you could understand why he was concerned about you being able to take it now. 

you let out a small whine as his fingers left you, but it was quickly replaced with his thick girth. at least he was gentle with the entry. but he barely gives you a second to take it in before he started moving. 

his hands now gripped your waist tightly on both sides, fucking you with such conviction. you felt like your were being used, and you relished in it. 

“fuck. it’s not fair; rin keeping this perfect fuck toy to himself,” he muttered to himself again. he wasn’t as vocal as rin you noted, limiting himself to the occasional grunt or deep, breathy moan. 

“s-sae”, it was difficult to get much words out.

“slow down you’re going to break me,” you utter, even though you knew he had no intention of doing so. 

“break then. let everyone know what a fucking slut you are throwing yourself onto your fiancee’s brother,” he challenges you. his cruel words sent a chill down your spine, right into the heat where he currently thrusted in and out of.

the sounds of his rough pounding filled the room, complimented by your higher pitched moans. his right hand moved from your waist and placed itself at your clit, rubbing fast circles, earning even louder sounds from you. 

“do I need to shut you up again,” he growled, but not stopping his ministrations. his thrusts became sporadic and irregular, a sign you knew as being close. you started clamping harder onto his cock, attempting to milk out every last drop.

“f-fuck, don’t stop doing that,” he recognizes your attempts, and any guilt that he could have about betraying his brother left his mind (not that he had much in the first place). 

he quickly pulls out, spilling his seed all over your thighs and stomach. after catching his breath, he stands back and gives you another smirk, rather proud of the mess he made you into. as if on cue, your session is cut by a familiar voice.

“you good in there?” rin calls from outside. your eyes widen, panicked. 

“i’m fine! just uh fixing up some makeup!” you called back, coming up with an excuse. you quickly take toilet paper, wiping up your body, frantically hiding any evidence. looking around, your eyes settle onto the bathtub.

“hide in there quick!” you whisper-shout, practically pushing sae behind the curtains. 

you pull up your discarded pants, trying to ignore the pool that was still in between your legs you forgot to wipe up. you manage to button them right before rin turns the handle.

“what took you so long?” he comes up behind you, pressing a kiss onto your temple. you give a meek smile in return, hoping he couldn’t hear your hammering heart.

“oh the stain was harder to get out than I thought, and I wanted to touch up my makeup since it smeared a little” you lied. 

“really? I didn’t notice.” he guides you out of the bathroom, and you let out a breath of relief thankful that he didn’t suspect anything. 

“oh by the way have you seen sae? he said he was going to bring you some stain remover he had on him,” rin asks, and your breath hitches.

“o-oh yeah he stopped by. i got the stain out mostly by then so I told him I didn’t need it,” you hoped that sounded natural enough, “maybe he’s taking a call or something,” adding an alibi.

“yeah he must be busy with the new move,” rin concluded. 

“let’s head back soon I’m a little tired”, you suggested, knowing dinner was about over anyways. it technically wasn’t a lie, you were tired (from being fucked like a whore). 

“good thinking, the drive’s a bit long anyways.” he clasps his right hand around your left, and your attention is brought back to the ring which started to grow uncomfortably warm against your finger again.

~~~

“you coming to bed?” rin asks, already brushed up and ready for sleep. 

“yeah just wanted to hang up some clothes”, you call back from the closet. as you put the hanger around the coat you wore for the night, you noticed a corner poke out of its pocket. you pulled the sheet out.

we’re not finished yet, i still need to make you cum XXX-XXX-XXXX

you rip up the paper until the text was no longer legible, discarding it in the nearest trashbin. 

but not before the digits were seared into your head, just like the ring that has been searing your finger all night.

[wh0re43van]

Frogger Pt 2 (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Summary: You return to peters house to finish what you started, but he’s way ahead of you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Very smutty, Masturbation, sub!peter (no mommy kink tho bc Idr fuck with that), edging, whiny Peter, pantie stealing

A/n: I can’t get this divider to work right and I’ve also just realized that Frogger came out on Atari in ‘83 not ‘73,,, so just ignore that huge plot hole pls 🙏🏻 Speaking of which, I’d like to take this moment to say: Frogger? I hardly know her!

Okay thats it. Thank you for reading!!

Pt 1

After picking my little brother up from school, I pull into our driveway.

“Alright come on, Finn. you’re gonna learn how to heat up a TV dinner today,” I say as I open the passenger door for my brother, ushering him quickly towards our front door.

“Why?” he asks, confused as we enter our home.

“Cause I got shit to do. You’ve got five minutes to ask questions then I’m leaving,” I say as I walk into the bathroom right next to our kitchen to check my reflection. “So, you better start now,” I say as I reapply my lipstick.

“What? Does mom know?” he asks, sounding horrified.

“No and she won’t find out because I’ll be home before she gets back from her Tupperware party and you aren’t gonna say anything,” I say as I shake my finger in his face.

“Y/n, I’m only eight. What if someone breaks in?” he squeaks as he follows my quick steps to the freezer. I open the door, pulling out a random frozen meal.

“Then hide,” I say flatly, knowing that our neighborhood is safe. He looks at me, still horrified.

“Ugh,” I groan before grabbing a pen and writing the Maximoff phone number on our calendar that’s hanging on the fridge. “I’m going to Peters. This is their phone number. Call and ask for me if anything happens. I should be back in an hour or two,” I say before grabbing my keys off the counter and walking to the door.  “Lock the doors, don’t answer for anyone unless it’s me, mom, or dad and stay inside the house,” I say as I unlatch the wooden door.

“Wait! You didn’t tell me about the dinner!” he stops me in my tracks.

“You can read right?” I ask, he nods his head. “Directions are on the box,” I lock the door behind me as I all but run towards my vehicle.

As I take the short drive to Peters house, my heart races in anticipation. I hate to admit it, but I managed to get just as worked up as he did- if not, more. My Fleetwood Mac cassette plays loudly in my stereo, but all I can hear is the whimpers that escaped Peter’s mouth earlier. He looked so fucking pathetic writhing underneath me, mewling through shaky breaths; It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The image of peter standing half naked, desperate, and confused with his pants so tight around his erection that his button could pop off at any moment makes more core ache. I pull up to the Maximoff house, parking halfway on the curb, but I’m in too much of a hurry to fix it. I sprint up to the door, taking a deep breath to compose myself before knocking. Ms. Maximoff soon opens the door.

“Y/n, back so soon?”  she grins, allowing me to enter.

“Yes ma'am, I have something that I need to finish,” I smile innocently. She nods.

“Peter should be downstairs, I haven’t seen him since you left,” she walks back to the kitchen, leaving me to make my way to Peter’s room. I quietly walk down the stairs, stepping onto the shag carpet. I freeze in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat and my heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of me.

Peter sitting upright on his couch, completely naked, his head thrown back, resting on the back of the sofa as his hand pumps his rock hard dick. His eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth hangs agape, releasing the hottest whimpers I’ve ever heard. His cheeks and lips are flushed as his nose scrunches in pleasure… then I hear it.

“Fuck, y/n” he mewls, so quiet I could barely hear it, but the sound of him muttering my name as he strokes himself rings through my ears like a trumpet, making my knees weak.

‘Oh, this gonna be wicked!’ I smirk to myself.

“Yes?” I bite my lip, approaching the disheveled boy. Peter’s so stunned that he just jumps up. He doesn’t zoom away. He just stands there with the most horrified expression I’ve ever seen.

“I-I-I didn’t- I wasn’t- y/n,” he sputters, I walk up to him, gently pushing him back down to the couch.

“You weren’t what?” I sit next to him, placing a hand on his chest; He’s hot to the touch. “Rubbing one out while thinking about me?” I ask lowly.

“I well, y-y-you just left me,” he says, staring at me with wide eyes, his dick still standing at attention. “I tried not to, it just wouldn’t go away,” he explains as he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Hmm,” I tap a finger to my lips in mock consideration. “I think I know how to help you,” I say with a shrug. Peter smiles at me, settling into the couch, closing his eyes, waiting for me to touch him. I get down on my knees in between his legs. “But I need you to show me what you were doing first,” I look up at him, laying my head on his bare thigh. He looks down at me, confused.

“Y-you want me to…” he motions towards his erection.

“Mhm,” I hum, looking at him through my lashes. His cheeks burn bright red, but he slowly moves his hand to his length. I watch intently as he begins to stroke himself. His hand runs over his red, swollen tip and he lets out a quiet whimper. “I wanna hear you, Peter,” I hum.

Even though he’s embarrassed, I can tell that he’s enjoying this. His breath quickens and his dick twitches in his hand as I speak. He picks up speed, obeying my command, letting out a pathetic little moan, as he stares down at me. “I think I know what you’re doing wrong,” the sultry tone drips from my tongue as I sit up on my knees.

“What?” he asks, his voice small as he watches my every move. I take his length into my own hand, dipping my head down, gathering spit in my mouth that I allow to drip from my lips onto his swollen tip. His brown eyes, wide as saucers, watches the saliva trickles onto him.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers as I use my fingers to spread the lubrication around. I hear his breath hitch, then I pull my hand away.

“Now try it,” I smile. I can tell he’s getting sexually frustrated.

“Really?” He whines. “But I want-“ he whines some more before I stop him.

“Do it, Peter,” I say sternly. He gulps, returning his hand to his now slick cock. He moans, throwing his head back.

“Doesn’t that feel better, baby?” I coo. He looks down at me, nodding his head. I slowly shift from my knees to sit on my ass, keeping his desperate eyes locked into mine. I spread my legs, revealing my soaked white panties underneath my skirt. Peter whimpers loudly at the sight, thrusting his hips into his hand.

“C-come on y/n, what are you tryin’ to do to me?” He groans, breathlessly.

“I’m helping you, quickie,” I giggle lightly before I run my hand over my clothed core. Peter shifts on the couch, sitting up to get a better view. His hand picks up speed around his length. I hum at the contact on my core, laying my head back, allowing my hair to fall from my shoulders down my back. I tilt my head to the side, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth when I catch Peters gaze locked onto my dripping panties, not even blinking as he pumps his cock mercilessly. The muscles in his arm tense and his dick twitches, precum oozes out.

“Fuck I think I’m gonna-“ he whimpers breathlessly.

“Stop,” I demand. “Remove your hand, Peter,” I direct him as I continue rubbing circles on my clit through the thin cotton. With a reluctant whimper, he pulls away.

“Mmm,” I slide my panties slowly down my legs, he watches with intensity. I’ve never seen him focus on anything this long before. “Good boy,” I praise, tossing the panties beside him on the couch. He looks at them, then back at me. I giggle, pulling my sweater and my tank top over my head, leaving me in just my bra and skirt. When I return my gaze to the couch, Peters eyes are still locked on me like before, but my panties are gone.

‘That pathetic little perverted kleptomaniac,’ I smile to myself. I don’t mention it-allowing him to keep the drenched panties as a prize for listening so well. Instead, I just bring my fingers down to my now exposed core. His eyes follow my hand like a cat’s follow a laser pointer. I use a finger to dip into my soaking entrance, dragging my slick up to my clit before I begin to rub circles on the sensitive skin.

“Mmm, fuck, Peter,” I relish the pleasure that I bring myself. He let’s out a string of mewls as he thrusts up into the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

“Are- Are you tryin’ to kill me?” He whispers, bringing his gaze from my slick folds up to my eyes. I can’t help but laugh at the desperate state of the poor boy.

“What do you mean?” I play Innocent as I move my fingers back to my entrance.

“I-“ He starts but he’s immediately distracted when I slip my finger inside myself, letting out a pornographic moan.

“Go on Peter,” I smirk. “I’m listening,” I bat my lashes.

“You’re just so-“ he speaks as if his mouth has gone dry.

“Fuck,” I let out another moan, purposely cutting him off again as I slip another finger inside myself and begin to curl up into that special spot.

“Please,” he whimpers, his voice cracks, his legs are shaking, his silver hair is stuck to his face with sweat and his dick is so hard that the tip has taken on a purple hue. Finally, I broke him. “Please, please, please, y/n please I’ll do anything,” he whines, pleading for mercy.

I smile, hoping up then turning around, slowly sliding my skirt down, bending over as I push the thin fabric to my feet.

“Please,” he whimpers again. I turn back around, smiling at the poor boy. “I’m not sure I’m enjoying this as much as you are,” he mewls as I straddle his waist. He winces when his erection slaps against my stomach.

“Oh, don’t lie to me Peter,” I whisper in his ear. I bring my fingers that I was using on myself up to his mouth, he happily opens, sucking them clean as he stares up at me with his big puppy eyes.

Jesus Christ I moan internally.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I bring my face right in front of his, grabbing either side of his cheeks with the same hand. “Don’t act up now,” I say sternly. He responds with an audible gulp. “Tell me Peter. Tell me how much you’re enjoying our time together right now,” I whisper as I ghost the fingers of my free hand over his needy cock. He twitches in my hand.

“I-you-“ he gulps again. His wide eyes looking directly into mine. “Y/n, this is hotter than any porno I’ve ever seen,” he admits whole heartedly, through muffled words as my hand squeezes his cheeks together a bit, earning a genuine laugh out of me.

“Well luckily for you,” I grab his length firmly, beginning to pump him slowly. “You won’t have to rent those stupid films anymore, not with me around,” I smirk before I bring him into a kiss, wrapping one hand in the back of his head. To my surprise, he kisses back intensely. His hands shoot up, grabbing both sides of my face to pull my head closer to his. He kisses me with strong desire.

“You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he groans into the kiss. I lift my hips up, not breaking the passionate kiss, using my hand to line him up with my dripping entrance.

“Of course, I do, Peter,” I whisper before setting down on his desperate cock, taking him all the way into me in one swift motion. He lets out a loud whimper- almost a shriek. “Shhh” I giggle against his lips, stifling my own moan.

“I’m sorry,” he whines. He peers into my eyes with his chest heaving, sweat covering every inch of his toned body while his shaky hands hold their death grip on my hips. I place my hands behind me onto his thighs so I can slowly slide myself up down on his length.

“It’s okay Peter, but you gotta keep it down a bit. Can you do that for me, baby?” I coo. He nods his head as he watches in awe as I fuck myself on him, unable to look away. He fills me up perfectly, his desperate cock sliding in out of my velvet walls earns a few low moans out of me. ”You’re so big, Peter,” I compliment, he smiles at me flashing his dimples. With a surge of confidence, he brings his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them to my clit, tracing figure eights, watching my face for approval. “Mmm, that feels good, baby. Good job,” I praise him. He moves his fingers faster, and faster, and faster to the point that his hand is just a blur. ”Fuck!” I accidentally shout from the vibrations coursing through my body.

“Shhh,” he smirks. “You gotta keep it down, remember?” he mocks me. I can’t help but laugh, his sudden confidence is a bigger turn on than I thought it would be. He moves his hand from my core- much to my disappointment- before he grabs my hips again.

“May I?” he asks politely, his voice small again as he thrusts into me, wanting to take a bit of control. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Mhm,” I grant him permission. “Only since you’ve listened so well,” I smirk. As soon as I give him the okay, he’s pounding into me mercilessly.

“Peter!” I shout in surprise and pleasure as he thrusts into me at inhuman rates. The speedster doesn’t seem to hear me as he throws his head back in pleasure.

“Thank you,” he whimpers. “You feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he whines, still somehow sounding submissive even when I’ve given him control. I quickly feel my release nearing as I grip onto his shoulders to keep him from bucking me off. I’ve never been so worked up in my life, my body feels like it’s on fire as I watch the handsome boys hips blur underneath me.

“Peter, I’m close,” I moan, my words come out punctuated as if I’m in a vehicle that’s driving 100mph down a pothole filled gravel road. His head shoots up at my words.

“Please y/n,” he whimpers as I bring my lips to his. “Please I wanna feel you cum while I’m inside you, please,” he whines and begs like a starving puppy, sending me over the edge. Pleasure shoots from my vibrating core throughout my whole body as a string of moans and curses fall from my lips. “Thank you,” I hear him mewl as I chase the euphoria I’m feeling.

‘Did he just thank me, for cumming on him?’ I think to myself. This man knows exactly how to get me worked up, and I don’t even think he realizes it. Suddenly, with a fwp I’ve lost all contact with him as I’m sat beside him on the couch. His eyes hungrily explore my body while he continues to pump himself as whimpers and groans fall from his lips, his dick is visibly twitching.

‘oh’ my confusion subsides once I realized he was about to cum himself. I regain my position on my knees between his legs, watching his face as I take him into my mouth. I consider ruining his orgasm again, but before I can make up my mind, his eyes are scrunched shut and his nose is wrinkled in pleasure as the hottest, most pathetic whimper I’ve ever heard fall from his swollen lips like music to my ears.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he groans as he empties his seed onto my tongue. I swallow the huge load, kitten licking his slit and hollowing out my cheeks a few more times for good measure. He falls onto the couch, lifeless. His chest heaving, the muscles in his legs twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Peter?” I ask, slightly concerned. “Peter?” I ask again a but louder, slapping his leg as I stand from the ground, sitting next to him.

“I…” he slowly turns his head next to me. I can almost see his heart beating out of his chest. “I think you just changed me as a man,” he pants. I laugh at his revelation, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Well I’m honored to be the one to do it,” I smile. He slowly sits up, holding his head as if he’s dizzy.

“I’m fucking starving,” he sighs. I stand up, starting to get dressed.

“Well, clean up real quick and we can go get some food after I check on my brother,” I smile. His eyes light up at the mention of food. He stands, taking a step then stopping, looking at me confused. He takes another step, stopping.

“You broke me, I can’t even zoom across the room,” he looks mortified. I giggle putting my hand on his shoulder.

“It will come back soon, give your body time to catch up,” I slip my skirt on, without my panties. “At least I know your weakness now,” I giggle.

“A dominant woman?” he smiles as he slips on his shirt.

“My used panties,” I smirk, motioning to the white fabric sticking out of his bedside drawer. His eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry you can ha-“ I cut him off.

“Keep ‘em. I think you earned it,” I wink. He looks away with blushed cheeks before dressing his bottom half.

[leportraitducadavre]

You know there’s a weird connection between the fandom’s perceived idea of “good writing” and their personal feelings about specific characters. “I like this character, therefore, they’re well written” and viceversa, “I dislike this character, therefore, they’re badly written” –I’ve seen this in many fandoms and with different characters, but there’s no fandom where this is more noticeable than in the “anti Sakura” portion of the audience.

Before we start, let me be clear on something: I don’t personally like Sakura, I don’t consider myself a fan of hers (or her stans, which are just as annoying as Hinata’s), nor I believe she’s the “heroine” of a story that has no room for a character with such status (I’ve said this before, Naruto is the hero and Sasuke is the antagonist -there’s no necessity nor space for anyone else as Sakura is merely the female character with most panel time, yet she doesn’t move the plot forward and she isn’t relevant to the development of other key characters, as most of them completely ignore her existence).

“Likeability” isn’t a determining factor when it comes to labelling a character “well” or “badly” written, such notion relies on subjective factors which makes it impossible to objectively determine the overall value of a character inside a story.

The most important factor to label a character “goodly written” has more to do with how well they represent their theological narrative. For instance, Danzo -who I genuinely despise, is amazingly written, as he spot on tackles the subject of extreme-nationalistic world view, while Itachi -on the other hand, is sort-of all over the place as he subscribes to Danzo’s ideology and defends it with the same actions, yet Kishimoto desperately wanted to keep him inside the “good guys” group, which ultimately failed and took down anything Itachi might have had going for him (besides other inconsistencies as he’s presented as a genius who made nothing but mistake after mistake). There’s a reason why the antagonists are often the ones with the best characterizations, as they aren’t tied to been “morally correct” or “likeable” in order to reflect their thematic plot, which is why the better characters in Naruto happen to be Uchiha (Sasuke, Obito, Madara).

Sakura has no weight inside the plot, as she is mostly used for support of either Naruto and (to a lesser extent) Sasuke, she stands narratively in the same spectrum as most “good” characters of the show, so she’s thematically not much more relevant than the rest of K-11; yet she’s given more depth than many other characters, as she’s a layered character of whom we see both her strengths and flaws, something we can’t say for other characters, such as Hinata.

In the Hyüga princess™’s case, her personality is mostly one dimensional as she is a thematic piece used to deepen Neji’s character. In case you haven’t noticed, she was constructed in opposition to him: She needs to be shy in order for Naruto to take pity on her when Neji insults her (as Neji is mostly arrogant and outspoken), she’s comically bad because Neji is a prodigy, she’s “a freak” (said by Naruto himself) because Neji isn't, she’s a slave owner because Neji is her slave, and so on –the only thing she has that wasn’t built in order to oppose her cousin was her infatuation with Naruto, something she makes a priority.

Everything we “know” about Hinata was mostly fandom-made, Hinata is shy and soft spoken, why is she considered “nice”? We never saw her worrying about anyone but Naruto: She was glad Kiba lost his match and offered Naruto the ointment to treat his wounds, she diminished her cousin’s trauma and endorsed the oppressive system of her clan, we never see her visiting Kiba after he returned from his mission to bring Sasuke back to Konoha (something we see Ino and Sakura do with their respective teammates, and while Hinata was recovering from Neji’s attack, she had enough strength to train and go see the Chünin Exams final stage, at no point is mentioned she was bed-ridden, as Sasuke had enough time to recover from Gaara’s attack before escaping the village), she thought about Naruto’s warm hand seconds after her cousin died and she was the only character not shown to be glad about Shikamaru being alive as we saw her pouting and thinking about how much she wanted to be beside Naruto. Furthermore, is there any scene in which she appears where she’s not thinking or talking about Naruto or where he is not the main focus?

How come a character designed to be nothing more than support (for Neji and Naruto, as her infatuation with him was built in order to have some oppositional force to the idea of “nobody likes him”, as Naruto has an unrequited love for Sakura during the whole duration of the manga) is “better written” than Sakura, who despite herself being also support she has far more thematically ground to move around (Kishimoto explores through her different themes, even if they aren’t relevant to the plot itself, such as romantical obsession, low self-esteem and the decisions/characteristics that are driven by it, female friendship, and few others).

Honest question: It’s her sad background reason enough to like Hinata? Do you truly need a “compelling” backstory in order to claim a character is “better written” than others? Sakura was bullied because she was shy, Hinata -being the Hyüga heir, wasn’t shown to suffer the same fate at the hands of her classmates. Think about it this way, while Sakura was being bullied and had to be helped by Ino, Hinata was being trained by her father and witnessing Hiashi torture her uncle while Neji cried, helpless! –and just a few years later, she used that exact knowledge to insult him! So she’s not really that nice after all!

What is it with the obsession of both fandoms with the idea of “potential” and how, apparently, they were “robbed of it” (what “potential”? When did Hinata even hint at improving her fighting techniques? She was defeated every single time! When did Sakura, who canonically has a smaller chakra pool than both Sasuke and Naruto, have the possibility of surpass literally Ashura and Indra’s reincarnations? Them having more panel time will mean absolutely nothing as we’ll see them doing the exact same thing we already see them do only twice as much. “Potential” is about exploring a latent ability of them, Hinata has none and Sakura’s chakra flux control was properly exploited!).

There’s more to say about this, but I’m honestly tired at this point…

[sundewhasaudhd]

Fuck it, I know I said I wouldn’t post things about my AU’s out of order, but it’s my blog, and do want I fucking want

Sad TNT duo scene (tw: knives, suicide)

(PS, this thing’s pretty long, so you might wanna go grab some potatocorn or something):

W: *Looking down sadly at his reflection in his knife*

Q: *Practically slams open this man’s fucking door like he isn’t breaking and entering* Jesus fucking Christ Wilbur, where the fuck have you been?! I…people were really starting to worry about you.

W: (to himself) You, you cared?

Q: What?

W: Nothing. Why are you here?

Q: Did you not hear me dipshit, looking for you. I hadn’t seen you in a few days, I was starting to get concerned.

W: That feels a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

Q: Not when you’re at my border bugging me everyday, no

W: …

Q: You ok?

W: Yeah, yeah, I’m fine

Q: You sure? There were a lot of pauses in that four word sentence. Y’know if you have something you want to say to me you can say it

W: Yeah, since when has that been true?

Q: Excuse me 

W: Never mind, that’s not important right now

Q: Feels pretty damn important, but ok, sure

W: *takes a deep breathe* Quackity, kill me

Q: W-w-w

W: It’s perfect, I won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else, and you won’t have to put up with me anymore 

Q: Wilbur if this is your idea of “a joke” it’s not very funny

W: What about me asking you to kill me sounds like a joke to you? It’s not that hard if that’s what you’re concerned about. There are a bunch of knives in here, just take your pick. There are some over there, I think I have one near my bed, plus I’m sure you plenty weapons in your room. *Wilbur’s voice starts fading out* And you don’t have to make it painless if you don’t want to… *his voice is completely drowned out by either ringing or static, I haven’t fully decided yet*

Q: N-no you said you wouldn’t leave me! Th-that you’d be here for me! You promised you wouldn’t leave me again! You promised!

W: That’s what I do Quackity. I lie. I lie and I hurt and that’s all I’ll ever be good for. I can’t change that, no one can, which is why it’d be better for everyone if you just killed me

Q: I- no I’m not gonna kill you Wilbur!

W: Quackity, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me a single reason why I still deserve to live, why I should still be here tomorrow

Q: I-

W: You can’t. I know you can’t. And that’s okay. That’s great even! That’s you realizing how badly I’ve hurt you, and that you shouldn’t want me around *placing his knife in Quackity’s hand, which his dumbass doesn’t notice, because Wilbur’s touching his face and he’s gay* I don’t deserve to live Quackity. *starts moving Quackity’s hands (the knife) towards his chest* You should know that more then anyone. The only thing I’ve ever given you is pain, especially when you’re already hurting. You’re just doing yourself a disservice by letting me live.

W: Y’know, I really will miss you. You’re my favorite person, and I love spending every second I can with you. But that’s really selfish of me. At least you won’t miss have to miss me. Hell, anyone with half a brain cell won’t miss me

Q: What the fuck are you on about, of course I’d miss you if you died!

W: No, you won’t. I mean, come on, why would you. You hate me, remember

Q: I don’t h- *sees the knife in his hands, and then immediately drops it* Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?!

W: EVERYTHING!!! Every single decision I’ve ever made was at the expense of someone else! I’m trying to do the only good thing I can with my pathetic existence by ending it, which YOU don’t seem to understand! 

Q: Because that’s stupid! Yeah, you’ve hurt people, so what? We’ve all hurt someone else at some point!

W: CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE!

Q: …

W: I’m- this is exactly what I’m talking about. This is all I do. So, just pick up the knife, and put an end to my pathetic existence

Q: No! I won’t kill you Wilbur

W: Why are you being so stubborn about this?

Q: Because I love you, ok! I love you a lot. You’re the only constant in my life, and I really don’t wanna think about what would happen if you weren’t here. You’re my everything. And I *shaky sigh* I just can’t lose you again

W: …

Q: Fuck, just forget I said anything. I’ll just leave and pray that your not dead tomorrow mornin-

W: *hugs in gay* I love you too 

Q: *starts crying while hugging Wilbur tighter*

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

Reflected in Someone’s Eyes (Part 1)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: Astario’s POV after he tells the reader (Y/N) that he hasn’t seen his face in over 200 years. What does Astarion find when he catches the reader still up when he comes for his nightly feed?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: Fluff, embarrassment, feelings of unworthiness, mentions of blood/vampires/etc, minor spoilers, suggestive themes 

Word Count: 1532

Side Notes: E/C = Eye color, Y/N = your name, Y/R = your race

Part 2

Astarion stared into the mirror he held high as he tried to hide his disappointment in discovering the parasite hadn’t corrected his inability to see his own reflection. He did, however, notice when he caught Y/N’s attention. They had parted ways shortly after making camp: she went to help make food, and Astarion tended to his wounds in his tent. Up until the moment she caught a glimpse of the reflective gleam from the reflective surface as the campfire roared with life. She had been eating and drinking with Wyll and Karlach, but she quickly finished her last sip of her wine before she said something to them both and started walking towards Astarion’s tent.

Astarion’s chest felt slightly tighter when he noticed her intent on walking his way, but he knew better than to let any signs of weakness show. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked as she neared the pale elf. “I thought vampires couldn’t see their reflection?” Her tone was curious and playful, but Astarion frowned into the mirror he was admiring her from. 

“I was just hoping that perhaps the parasite had changed that too about me. Much to my dismay, I still cannot see my own face.” If no one had known, they would not have caught the slight hint of sadness in his tone, but Y/N shuffled her weight on her feet.

“Do you miss it? Being able to see your face?” Y/N asked, and Astarion sighed heavily. 

“Peering in a looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I haven’t even seen this face—not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.” He growled out the last part of his statement. Y/N slightly shifted her weight on her feet as her head cocked slightly to the side in curiosity. 

“What color were they before?” She questioned, but Astarion just shook his head.

“I don’t even remember what my face looked like before I woke up as a vampire spawn.” The words bitterly left his tongue. Y/N’s face flashed with a familiar expression to him now: pity “My face is just a dark shape of my past.” He spat out as he threw the mirror to the ground, scattering the already broken pieces of the mirror. He took some calming breaths before he realized that the woman in front of him was just looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. Why was she staring at him? 

“What?” He abruptly asked, slightly nervous from her attentive gaze, but he held his stoic expression. A small smile graced her lips before she replied. 

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words came out of her mouth softly and sweetly as the woman gently held eye contact with him. “What do you want to know?” She ever-so-softly asked him. He turned to her with his signature smile before he spoke.

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” Astarion’s voice was soft, but then he drops his voice even further and his eyes soften with vulnerability as he adds, “What you see.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous to hear what the woman before him had to say. Isn’t it silly of him to wonder what this woman is going to say about, and for him to wonder how it is going to make him feel…a luxury Cazador wouldn’t have given him. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he released it at her reply.

“I see strong, piercing eyes that glint and gleam like crimson rubies in the sun.” Astarion swore he could feel something stir in his undead heart at her honeyed words, and his hungry ears needed to hear more sweet words. 

“Oh?” He said lowly. “Go on.” 

“You have a dangerous smile; one that makes anyone’s heart race with anticipation. It makes people wonder why someone like you would look their way.” The look of admiration in her E/C eyes sent another squeezing feeling to his chest. 

“Very good.” He said as he smiled at her. “Now, just tell me I’m beautiful, and we can call it a day.” The smile that graced Y/N’s lips took his breath away as she told him exactly what he wanted to hear. “Observant.” He said when she finished. “Mirrors aren’t much use, but being reflected in someone’s eyes? Well…I could do worse.” His eyes softened as he looked over the Y/R woman in front of him. She then yawned, and Astarion chuckled at her.

“Your mirror,” She sarcastically referred to herself as, “Is exhausted. You’re welcome to come for a bite tonight, if you desire. I’ll see you in the morning.” Astarion bid her good night, and told her he couldn’t wait to come for a taste later. 

However, as Astarion laid in his tent, he couldn’t help but think about Y/N and her honeyed words. How could it be that a woman such as herself would be so willing, so eager, to say such nice things about someone like him? Astarion had reminded himself time and time again that he needed protection from her. He needed to seduce her and bed her to keep himself protected. That’s all he needed to do, and something he knew all too well to do. Smile here, some flattery there, and, with a little performance from him, all would be well. All he has to do is not fall for you, and that’s the easy part. Right? But as the pale elf laid on his bed roll, he tried to shake off the feeling creeping inside his chest—the one in the center where his heart use to beat. Astarion shook off the feeling and labeled it that he just needed to feed, so he got up and started towards your tent. 

Over the next few days, Astarion noticed that his tasty partner spent more time looking at him than she spent with him. Yes, they had been spending quality time traveling together to the shadow cursed lands, heading towards Moonrise Towers, but she had been far more quiet and distant since their conversation about the mirror. As much as he hates to admit it, the small shift in her behavior had him concerned. Her absence that night from her bedroll had also been a cause for alarm for the pale elf. Today had not been a great day, for they had royally pissed off the githyanki queen, Vlaakith, who swore that we shall all perish at the end of one of her warriors’ blades. 

Astarion took a calming breath, and focused his attention on her scent: she had an alluring scent of sandalwood vanilla with a subtle accent of coffee. He had been joking that she was his little energy drink because of her habit of drinking coffee every morning. Luckily, her scent was strong and Astarion was quickly able to find his pretty little travel companion sitting on a large rock, overlooking the valley below them. Y/N hadn’t heard him approach, and Astarion could see that she was engrossed in whatever she had in her hands. The vampire spawn purposefully stepped on a nearby twig, which garnered the reaction he had hoped for when the Y/R sprung up with her dagger drawn. The dagger glinted in the moonlight as she lowered upon making eye contact with the familiar pair of ruby red eyes. 

“Astarion.” She left out in a sigh of relief. “Sorry, you had startled me.” She left out a light, breathless chuckle as she finished her statement. “I guess you came to feed on me, and discovered I wasn’t there? I must’ve lost track of time.” One of her eyebrows cocked upwards in question as she sheathed her dagger and picked up the items she had been previously holding before the twig snapped: a large book, and a pencil.

“Clever girl.” Astarion praised before he cocked an eyebrow himself. “What has captured the attention of my tasty little treat to have kept her distracted?” Her cheeks slightly flushed, and the sound of her pulse quickening was music to Astarion’s vampire ears. He itched to sink his pearly whites into her beautiful neck, but he was now more interested in the answer to his question. “Do tell me that you were writing some dirty little fantasies about us in that book of yours?” The alluring tone in his voice and the flabbergasted expression on her face made Astarion feel comfortable and in control; however, he wasn’t prepared for the lighthearted laugh that escaped from the woman.

“Oh no, my darling,” Astarion raised an eyebrow at the nickname that came from Y/N’s lips. “Give me a few more nights, and I’ll happily show you what I’ve been working on.” A genuine smile on her lips told Astarion that she meant what she had spoken.

“Alright then.” He said with a smile. “I surely hope whatever it is you are working on will be well worth the wait.” Some unfamiliar expression shone in the Y/R’s E/C eyes as she casually replied.

“Who knows,” Her shoulders shrugged. “Only time will tell.” Then, she bid him good night after happily letting him have a taste of her intoxicating blood.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Rating: T Characters: Carlos Reyes and T.K. Strand Summary: In the early days of their budding relationship, T.K. and Carlos discover some of each other's more adorable characteristics. Or, five times T.K. learns adorable things about Carlos and one time Carlos learns something adorable about T.K. A/N: Thanks to @bluenet13 for the title help on this one. It's been on the back burner for a while and it was time for it to fly free. Also working on a reverse 5+1 companion for it, so keep your eyes open for that...someday... Tagging: This is more than seven sentences, but please accept it anyway. Thanks to @strandnreyes, @bonheur-cafe, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @ladytessa74, and @lemonlyman-dotcom. Tagging @liminalmemories21, @welcometololaland, @carlos-tk, @louis-ii-reyes-strand, @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, and anyone else who would like to share your Seven Sentence Sunday! Read on AO3

Glasses

T.K. is brushing his teeth in Carlos’ bathroom. Usually his daily oral hygiene wouldn’t be a notable event, but today it feels monumental. Because it’s Carlos’ bathroom. And T.K. is brushing his teeth. Because he’s staying over. Because they’re together. Like really together. Officially. 

He smiles goofily at his reflection in the mirror, his mouth still full of white paste and toothbrush. He’s happy. Really, truly, deeply happy.

He opens up Carlos’ medicine cabinet one handed as he continues brushing away and realizes that while he remembered to bring a razor he did not remember to bring shaving cream. “Hey babe,” he calls around his mouthful as he turns around and pokes his head back into the bedroom, “can I borrow—“

His eyes find Carlos on the bed and he immediately chokes on his toothpaste and has to rush back to the sink to spit it out. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before turning and marching back through the open doorway. 

Carlos looks at him, amusement on his face. “You okay over there?”

“Since when do you wear glasses?”

Because he is. Carlos is sitting in his bed, shirtless, hair soft and wildly curly after his shower, a paperback in his hands, and a pair of glasses on his face. Glasses that T.K. has definitely never seen before in his life. Glasses that are kind of knocking the wind out of him.

“Since the fourth grade?” Carlos says. 

“But I’ve never…you’ve never worn them when I’ve been here.”

“I haven’t?” Carlos scrunches up his nose in thought and it makes him even more freaking adorable. “Are you sure?”

“I think I would remember my boyfriend morphing into Clark fucking Kent,” T.K. retorts.

Carlos chuckles. “I only wear them at night when my contacts start bothering me.”

“You should wear them more often.” The words are out of T.K.’s mouth before he even realizes it. He feels wildly out of control of himself right now and who could blame him? His already incredibly fucking hot boyfriend now looks like an incredibly fucking hot librarian and it is making T.K. think some very, VERY dirty thoughts.

Carlos raises his eyebrows. “Why?” A slow, lazy, self-satisfied smile spreads across his  face. “You think they’re sexy?”

“God yes.”

T.K. is across the room in two seconds flat, scrambling onto the bed and pulling Carlos’ face to his for a bruising kiss. Carlos immediately drops his book and responds in kind, mouth open and inviting as his hands grip T.K.’s hips and pull him close. “You called me your boyfriend,” he says when they finally break apart for air.

“I did,” T.K. says, diving back in for another taste of Carlos in glasses. It’s completely different than regular Carlos. It’s nerdy. And hot. He loves it.

“You’ve never called me your boyfriend before,” Carlos says breathlessly, grinning so wide it’s like the sun has come out. “I like it.”

T.K. grins back at him. “Me too.”

Socks

“Oh my god,” Carlos says as T.K. collapses onto his chest and presses kisses into his sweat sticky skin. “How does it just keep getting better?”

“Because we’re amazing,” T.K. mumbles against his pecs, his eyes already heavy with sleep. “So. Freaking. Amazing.”

He takes a few breaths and feels his body relaxing as sleep pulls him down. He snuggles deeper into Carlos’ chest, eyes drifting shut. He’s nearly out when he feels Carlos shift beneath him.

“Where are you going?” he asks, tightening his hold on Carlos’ torso to keep him from moving.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to put some socks on,” Carlos says, pressing a kiss to his hair. 

T.K.’s eyes pop back open and he props himself up to look at Carlos’ face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m going to put some socks on,” Carlos repeats.

Things still aren’t computing in T.K.’s brain. “…why?” he finally asks slowly.

“Because if we’re going to sleep I need to wear socks.”

He was looking for clarity, but now he’s even more confused. “I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand? I’m putting socks on to go to bed,” Carlos says, looking equally as confused.

“But…why?”

“Because otherwise I might catch a cold,” Carlos says with a laugh, gently pushing T.K. off so he can get to his feet.

T.K. blinks a couple times trying to get his bearings and then rolls over, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around his waist. “That is not how colds work. Like not even close.”

Carlos returns and sits on the bed to pull his socks on. “I know that,” he says.

“And yet you’re still putting the socks on,” T.K. says.

“My mom always made us wear socks to bed when we were kids.”

“Is she coming over?” T.K. asks incredulously.

“No.”

“Then why are you wearing them?!”

“Because she always made us!”

T.K. takes a breath. “Let me get this straight. You are going to get into this bed with me, fully naked, except for socks that you’re going to wear because your mom made you do it when you were seven?”

Carlos pauses. “Well when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“I just like it okay? I’ve done it forever. I can’t sleep without them,” Carlos says defensively as he slides back into bed beside T.K. “Is this some kind of a dealbreaker for you?”

“Nope,” T.K. says. “Just trying to understand. If wearing socks to bed is what does it for you, then by all means wear the socks.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, giving him a peck on the lips and turning out the light before pulling T.K. close and snuggling in to go to sleep.

T.K. gets comfortable and closes his eyes, but he can’t stop the thoughts running through his mind in the dark and quiet of the room. He sits up and turns the light back on. “I really need you to tell me that you understand that you can’t catch a cold from not wearing socks though.”

Romance

T.K. loves being in Carlos’ condo without him. He likes it better when Carlos is around obviously. But he feels so special that Carlos has given him a key and invited him to share his space. It means he trusts T.K. enough to let him be here alone where it’s peaceful and calm, unlike his dad’s house which somehow feels crowded even though there are only two of them there most of the time.

Carlos’ place feels more like home than anywhere else has in a long time.

He takes his shoes off when he arrives and dutifully puts them away, then grabs a mineral water and a yogurt out of the fridge before collapsing onto Carlos’ couch. “Ouch,” he says with a frown as something pokes into his back from behind the throw pillow.

He reaches behind him and pulls out a book. It’s not unusual to find books around the condo, Carlos is a big reader, but the brightly colored cover on this one makes T.K. pause and raise his eyebrows. The Spanish Love Deception is the title and when he flips it over to read the back he learns that Catalina Martín is in desperate need of a date for her sister’s wedding and her mortal enemy at work seems to be her only option.

He’s rifling through the pages when the door opens and Carlos walks in. “Hey,” he says, smiling as his eyes meet T.K.’s. “When did you get in?”

“Like fifteen minutes ago,” T.K. tells him as Carlos slips off his shoes and then comes over to press a kiss to his lips. “I found this behind the throw pillow.”

He holds up the romance novel and Carlos takes it from him. “Francesca must have left it here,” he says, referring to his sister. “Looks like her kind of book. I’ll text her and let her know you found it it.”

T.K. doesn’t think about it again for a couple of weeks until one night when his dad cancels their dinner plans and he spontaneously heads to Carlos’ instead. “Hey, it’s me!” he calls as he pushes the door open.

“T.K.?” Carlos appears at the top of the stairs, one hand behind his back, looking a little frazzled. “I thought you were going to dinner with your dad.”

“He bailed,” T.K. says, adjusting his overnight bag on his shoulder as he takes the stairs two at a time, giving Carlos a peck on his lips when he reaches him. “You okay?” he asks, taking in the weird expression on his boyfriend’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Carlos says, even as a minor amount of panic is flickering through his eyes. “I just didn’t know you were coming.”

T.K. looks him up and down. “Do you have some other guy in your bedroom?”

“What?! No!” Carlos says quickly.

“Were you watching porn?”

“Of course not!” Carlos says, but there’s a deep blush rising up in his cheeks. 

“What’s behind your back?” T.K. reaches for him, but Carlos steps away out of his reach.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

T.K. raises his eyebrows in amusement. “You know you are so freaking bad at lying, right?”

“Can we just drop it?” Carlos asks, desperation creeping into his voice.

T.K. takes a step forward so that Carlos is forced to back into the wall and then reaches around him and plucks the hidden object from his fingers. It’s another book, the cover bright blue with the title The American Roommate Experiment on the front. T.K. recognizes the name of the author as the same one from the book he found behind the couch cushions and his eyebrows rise. “Oh. You were reading porn.”

“It’s not porn,” Carlos says. “It’s a book.”

“Are you telling me there’s no sex in this book?”

“I…don’t know yet,” Carlos says, dropping his eyes. “I haven’t gotten that far.”

Delight is spiraling through T.K. as he fully realizes what’s going on. “That was your book a couple weeks ago. Not your sister’s.” He can feel his eyes start to sparkle with mischief. “You like smutty romance novels.”

“I don’t like them because they’re smutty,” Carlos says quickly. “I like them because…I like them.”

“You like them because you’re a big old softy romantic,” T.K. says, poking him gently in the chest. “Do you watch Hallmark Christmas movies too?”

The silence that follows tells him all he needs to know. “You do,” T.K. says happily. He could not be more thrilled about this new discovery.

“I grew up with four sisters,” Carlos defends himself.

“Please tell me you read Fifty Shades.”

“I would never,” Carlos scoffs. “Those books are not an accurate depiction of the BDSM community.”

“Oh my god you’re adorable,” T.K. tells him. 

“No, I’m, no don’t call me that,” Carlos says, clearly embarrassed.

“You are,” T.K. tells him, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ waist. “You are the most adorable boyfriend the world has ever seen.”

“Are you going to let this go, or is this something you’re going to talk about forever?” Carlos asks.

“Mmm definitely the second thing,” T.K. says as Carlos sighs with long suffering. “Now how about you take me to your bedroom and teach me some of the things you’ve learned from these books?”

Scaredy Cat

Sharing new things with each other has become a complete delight for T.K. So when he finds out that Carlos has never seen a single one of the Halloween movies, he declares the need for a marathon during the month of October and immediately goes over to his dad’s to dig out his DVD’s. No way is he dealing with ads breaking up the masterpiece that is Michael Myers. 

He’s popped popcorn, pulled out all the throw blankets, and even gone so far as to make up a bloody looking mocktail to really get them in the spirit of the movies. Now he’s just eagerly awaiting Carlos who has gone out to fetch their pizza.

He’s pulling down plates from the cupboard (Carlos refuses to eat pizza straight out of the box like they’re “college frat bros”) when the door opens and his boyfriend returns, pizza in hand. 

“Perfect timing!” T.K. says, eagerly taking the box from him and handing him the gory looking cocktail in return. 

“Oh, wow,” Carlos says. “This is…something.”

“I found a recipe online,” T.K. tells him excitedly as he dishes out pizza slices onto plates. “I thought they would be fun!”

“So creative,” Carlos says, poking at the gummy eyeballs that T.K. ordered online and added for extra pizzazz.

“Okay,” T.K. says as they settle onto the couch, his excitement at an eleven. “So, John Carpenter and Debra Hill wrote this in like ten days, which is crazy, and Carpenter got paid ten thousand dollars to write, direct, and score it. They built a cinematic masterpiece, the go-to film for horror, and they did it in ten days for ten thousand dollars. Can you even believe that?”

“Sure can’t,” Carlos says with a shake of his head. 

“We’re starting with the original Halloween,” T.K. tells him as he flicks on the television. “1963, Michael Myers versus a bunch of teenage girls. We’ll skip a few in the middle, Halloween: Resurrection isn’t worth anybody’s time, and while Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers does feature a young, fresh faced Paul Rudd, it has too many flaws to be worth watching.”

“So we’re skipping two out of…”

“Thirteen,” T.K. tells him.

“I guess I should have taken the month off of work,” Carlos tells him, sending him an odd, tense sort of smile.

Come to think of it, Carlos’ whole body feels a little tense too. If T.K. didn’t know any better, he’d think Carlos was nervous. But he chalks it up to worry over getting pizza grease on the couch and hits play as he snuggles into his boyfriend’s side.

They’re still snuggled together as Michael takes a knife to his teenage sister and T.K. doesn’t miss the way Carlos stiffens even further over the bloody scene. Or the way he seems to get more and more tense as the movie progresses. “You want another drink?” T.K. asks after Michael murders the Wallace’s dog.

Carlos shakes his head, his lips pressed together in a firm line, eyes a little wider than normal as he stares at the screen. He gasps audibly when Michael appears in Annie’s car and when T.K. looks down he finds that Carlos is gripping the edge of the couch cushions so hard that his knuckles are going white. 

By the time Michael starts going after Laurie, Carlos’ breathing has gone rapid and T.K. carefully slips his fingers under the edge of his sleeve to find his pulse racing. Not a surprise given the contents of the movie, but Carlos’ face has gone almost white and and he’s sitting so rigidly T.K. is afraid all of his muscles are going to lock up. 

“Carlos,” he says quietly, but Carlos doesn’t respond, eyes glued to the screen, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard.

“Carlos, are you okay?” T.K. asks again, reaching for the remote.

He’s too late. Michael appears out of nowhere and Carlos jumps to his feet with a shout, hands going to his hips as he paces a couple agitated steps back and forth. 

T.K. finally gets his finger on the button to pause the movie. “Carlos, hey, look at me,” T.K. says, feeling legitimately concerned.

“No I—it’s fine. I’m fine,” Carlos says, hand making chopping motions as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as T.K. “Go ahead, turn it back on. I’ll just um, I’m just going to—“

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” T.K. says.

“No I’m—it’s good,” Carlos says even as a car honks outside and he flinches violently.

“It’s not fine,” T.K. says. “You hate it. Let’s watch something else.”

“We can finish—“

“Carlos, you look like you think Michael is coming after you personally. We’re not watching anymore,” T.K. says with a chuckle, using the remote to flip over to live TV, Bobby Flay declaring loudly that he will not be beaten at his own culinary game this time.

“Thank you,” Carlos sighs, collapsing back into the couch.

“When were you going to tell me you hate horror movies?” T.K. asks.

“Never,” Carlos says, running a hand through his hair. “You were so excited and I thought maybe it would be okay.”

“But?”

“I begged my parents to let me watch It with my sisters when I was ten. I didn’t sleep for like a month after that and ever since…” he shivers, “I just don’t get why people like them.”

“It’s pretty cute you know,” T.K. says with a fond smile. “My big tough police officer being scared of horror movies.”

“Cute or pathetic?” Carlos says with a roll of his eyes, finally starting to look like himself again now that it’s vegetables being chopped up instead of people.

“Cute,” T.K. tells him definitively, pulling him close. “Now come here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Paparazzi

The radio is blaring when T.K. walks in from his shift, so loud that for a second he thinks he’s walked into the wrong condo. A quick glance around reveals that no, this is indeed Carlos’ place, although there’s no sign of Carlos anywhere, and it takes him another moment to realize the music is actually coming from upstairs.

He climbs the staircase, the music getting louder with each step and by the time he’s reached the top it’s changed from something in Spanish to Lady Gaga and is blasting so loudly that it feels like he’s at a live performance rather than in his boyfriend’s bedroom.

That’s when he finally hears the singing. Not Gaga herself, although she’s hard to ignore. No. Someone is belting out the lyrics from behind the bathroom door, slightly out of tune, but with the most passion T.K. has ever heard.

He opens the door quietly, the sound intensifying as the spray of the shower joins the fray. 

“I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN, I’LL FOLLOW YOU UNTIL YOU LOVE ME! PAPA-PAPARAZZI!” Carlos bellows from behind the semi-frosted glass of the shower door.

T.K. crosses his arms and leans against the wall, a grin on his face as he watches the blurry silhouette of his naked boyfriend scrubbing away at his hair while he sings along. He makes it through the rest of the chorus and another verse before he turns around and lets out a yell. “Jesus Christ!”

The water turns off immediately followed quickly by the music as T.K. laughs. Carlos opens the shower door, poking his sopping wet head out. “What the hell? How long have you been standing there?” he says, clearly torn between fury and embarrassment.

“Long enough,” T.K. says, handing him a towel before returning to his position against the wall, watching appreciatively as Carlos pulls it around his waist and steps out, water glistening on his skin.

“You realize that’s really fucking creepy, right?” Carlos asks as he double checks that his towel is secure.

“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the concert,” T.K. says fully aware that he is smirking and enjoying every second of watching Carlos squirm.

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that,” Carlos says, looking down at the floor, his cheeks flushed from more than the heat of his shower.

“Do you always sing in the shower?”

“No.” But he doesn’t meet T.K.’s gaze when he says it.

“Yes,” T.K. says gleefully. “Why don’t you ever sing when I’m here?”

“Because some things are better left in private,” Carlos tells him with a glower.

“Babe, come on,” T.K. says, taking a step forward and putting his hands on Carlos’ hips just above where the towel is sitting. “I love knowing stuff like this about you. It makes me feel like you’re mine. I get to see these little parts of Carlos Reyes that other people don’t.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Unless you also put on performances in the precinct showers.”

“Definitely not,” Carlos scoffs. His hands come up to rest on T.K.’s biceps. “You really don’t think it’s weird? I know I’m not a good singer.”

T.K. kisses the tip of his nose. “It doesn’t matter. It makes you happy. And that’s all I care about.”

+ 1: Ticklish

Waking up with T.K. had been his dream for months, but he wasn’t completely surprised when it turned out not to be a reality. It turns out T.K. doesn’t wake up with anyone. In fact he barely wakes up at all. He has to be dragged out of bed and plied with coffee and a shower before he’s even remotely functional. 

When questioned about how he can wake up and immediately go to work when the alarm bells go off at the fire station, T.K. looks at him like he’s crazy and says, “That’s different.”

So Carlos contents himself with waking up beside T.K., pressing a kiss to whatever part of him is poking out from under the blankets, and then greeting him more officially when he finally stumbles out of bed usually an hour or two after Carlos.

He’s just finished his workout when he hears T.K.’s alarm going off followed quickly by a muffled thud as T.K. predictably sends his phone flying to floor in his attempts to turn it off.

Carlos smiles and wipes a towel across his forehead before stowing away his weights and jogging back upstairs. T.K. is buried under the blankets, only the top of his head poking out. “Morning,” Carlos says softly, bending over to kiss his forehead.

T.K. reaches up and catches his arm, tugging him downward. “Come back to bed,” he mumbles. 

“I’m all sweaty,” Carlos says with a laugh. “I need to go take a shower.”

“No staaay,” T.K. groans, tugging more insistently.

Carlos rolls his eyes but he concedes, sitting down on the mattress and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal T.K.’s face. “Are you going to get up?”

“It’s our day off,” T.K. tells him, eyes still tightly shut.

“It is.” Carlos leans closer, a fond smile on his face. “And if you don’t get up soon it will be over.”

He pokes T.K. in the ribs good-naturedly and immediately receives a sharp backhand across the face. “Ow!” he yells, rearing back and clutching his nose. “T.K. what the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” T.K. yelps, and Carlos can feel him scrambling to get upright in the tangle of their sheets. “Oh my god! Are you okay? Let me see!”

He reaches for Carlos’ face, but Carlos pulls back. His nose feels like it’s been smashed into a thousand pieces, but he rubs at it experimentally and it seems to be intact. Another check shows no blood on his fingers, so he’s probably all right, but damn. It hurts. “What the hell was that for?” he asks grouchily, sending T.K. a glare.

T.K. looks sheepishly down at the sheets. “Um, well, I might be just a little bit ticklish?”

Carlos blinks at him. “No you’re not.”

T.K.’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Yes I am?”

“T.K. we’ve been together for like four months. I would know if you were ticklish.” He knows T.K.’s body intimately. Where he can touch to make him moan, to make him gasp, to make him arch his back. If T.K. were ticklish, it would have been revealed long before now. 

“It’s just that one spot on the left side of my ribs,” T.K. tells him. “If your hands start to go there I just take them and move them somewhere else. You’ve never noticed?”

Huh. Carlos sits with that for a second replaying as many of their sexual encounters as he can remember. “I guess…I guess not. Why did you hit me though?” he asks with a frown.

“Ah.” T.K. blushes. “I always move your hands because I can get a little…violent when I get tickled. It’s kind of a panic response.”

“And instead of telling me this you just waited for me to discover it by accident and nearly broke my nose in the process?”

“I kind of forgot honestly. It’s just become a habit to move your hands,” T.K. tells him.

Carlos snorts out a laugh. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” T.K. asks warily.

“Oh my god…that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Carlos says, full on laughing now. 

T.K.’s face breaks into a smile and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “It is kind of dumb.”

Carlos leans forward and cups his chin, pulling him in for a real kiss. “You’re cute,” he says. “You and your ridiculous ticklish spot.”

“You’re cute too,” T.K. says, then wrinkles his nose. “But you kind of stink.”

“Oh I do?”

“Yeah you do.”

Carlos wraps his arms around T.K. while he yells in protest, holding him tightly as they fall onto the mattress together. It’s disgustingly adorable. And Carlos wouldn’t trade it for the world.  

[luimagines]

Looking for Someone

Our second place winner for the 1200 follower raffle was mushroom anon! :D

They asked for some Sky and Wild bonding.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Sky knew exactly where they were.

He didn’t even know this place was still around, let alone in decent condition. He felt a sense of deja vu as he walked further into the area. It was sickening to a degree. Sky could feel his stomach doing flips but he tried to keep his lunch down for the sake of the others. They didn’t seem as bothered by the find, seeing as they were well enough to look around and banter. Somewhere behind him he could hear them discussing the meaning of the place and where they should head to next since it appeared empty.

But Sky knew better. He was almost expecting someone to jump out and attack him.

“Hey.” Wild puts a hand on his shoulder.

Sky jumps and pulls out his sword, aiming it at Wild’s neck without a moment’s hesitation.

The whole group freezes.

Sky takes a moment to pause and remind himself that he is, in fact, not where he thinks he is. He puts the Master Sword back in her sheath. The group eyes him wearily.

“Sorry.” Sky clears his throat, holding his hand out for peace. “I’m… I’m not… you startled me. Are you ok?”

Wild seems to get a knowing look on his face and waves the others away.

The leaves hesitantly.

“I think this place bothers you more than it bothers me.” He says quietly, putting his hand back on Sky’s shoulder.

The Chosen Hero allows himself to relax for a minute and claps Wild in his shoulder as well. Fellow knights are in agreement. All is well. “This place bothers you? You know what this place is?”

“I do.” Wild says bitterly. “We call this the Spring of Courage. You know this place as well?”

Sky nods and looks back out beyond the waters and straight into the face of the goddess statue. “Zelda came here to divinely cleanse herself as she grew into her powers of Hylia. I was always locked on the other side of the door. By the time I got through she was gone. I was always a second too late. I just wanted to find her.”

Wild listens silently. He, like the others, haven’t asked much of their adventures for the sake of privacy. For as much as Sky obviously thinks about his Zelda, Wild can confidently say he knows next to nothing about her. He’s not even sure what her ‘powers of Hylia’ even means. Maybe it’s similar to what his Zelda had to go through.

Wild clears his throat. “Did it work?”

“Hm?” Sky looks at Wild. “What do you mean?”

“The.. cleansing, as you called it. Did it work?” Wild stresses again.

Sky takes a moment to think about it. “I’m… not sure. Like I said, I was never there. But Zelda did eventually get some power of hers returned to her. So it might have done something to her.”

Wild thinks about it some more as well, bitterness welling up inside him. Frustration is on the rise as he thinks about what happened before that day. He remembers Zelda’s sobs and self doubt. It echoes behind her every move even today. A smaller voice behind all that reminds him that this is not the same case. Perhaps this is the reason why the king commanded the princess to come here to begin with.

Not that it did anyone any good.

“Don’t like that idea?” Sky ventures hesitantly. He’s never seen Wild look wrathful before. It’s an unsettling look for someone he’s come to know as mostly smiles outside of the battlefield. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“No, not that.” Wild shakes his head. He should save this for later. Sky had done nothing to deserve any left over ire from the life long lost.

“My Zelda came here to pray.” He finds himself admitting. “She also needed to unlock her power. It didn’t work.”

Sky stays silent and  looks over at their reflection in the pool. Similar eyes that are not his own stare back at him. They have the same nose. If Sky looks close enough he thinks he can even see the same tired look in their figures. It’s strange.

Sky looks around again, feeling tense and unnerved once more. Despite the fact that he knows Ghirahim is no more- the idea of something waiting for him to turn his back is ever present in his mind. It was always right before the pool. Oh how he wishes Fi would talk again. He wishes she could talk some sense into him like she always seemed to do.

Wild clears his throat. “Sorry.’

It’s enough to break Sky out of his own thoughts. “Huh?”

“For starling you earlier.” He amends. “You keep getting lost in thought.”

“...I hate this place.” Sky spits.

Something in Wild relaxes. His whole body slumps with relief at his words. “Thank the goddess. I do too. Let’s get out of here.”

They leave.

It’s a comfortable silence until Wild pokes Sky’s shoulder once more. “One question.”

“What is it?”

“You mentioned trying to find your Zelda.” Wild mentions quietly. “What did you mean by that?”

They see the rest of the group up ahead, waiting for them. Wild takes the initiative to wave them off again, letting them know to continue further up without them.  This time they are less hesitant to leave them alone.

Sky takes a deep breath. “She fell from our home. I went down to the surface to find her. I searched everywhere.”

Wild says nothing at first. It doesn’t feel like Sky actually answered his question but at the same time, what was he expecting?

“What about you?” Sky asks quietly. “You don’t actually talk a lot about your Zelda despite being her personal guard.”

The Champion blushes. “It’s not like that…”

Sky doesn’t comment on it.

“When I woke up, I didn’t remember her. Even though she was the first person I heard from. She told me my name before I even knew who I was. Despite what the old man and what Ipa told me to do- which was to find her and help her- I felt like she was just a concept. An idea. When I finally remembered her, it felt weird to think that I still wasn’t sure if she was even dead or alive. Our relationship…  It’s… different now, whether we like it or not.”

Sky let’s Wild ramble. He didn’t think this would have gotten this much information out of the Champion as it did. He wonders if he’s told anyone else this. He has an inkling that perhaps Twilight knew, but seeing the speed at which Wild was willing to ramble, he doubts that too.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine in the end.” Sky says, unhelpfully. He cringes at his own words.

Wild thankfully sees the attempt for what it is. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” Sky continues on. “Things are different now anyway, right? For your time and your people. It’s all about finding a new normal. It can't be that much different from simply moving from one place to another right?”

Sky can feel himself start to ramble as well as he sticks his foot in his mouth.

“”Like… The people you know aren’t close to you any more- The ground is different from how you knew it growing up- The sounds are different- There’s plenty of new people to meet- The food is different- The animals are different- The air is different-”

“It’s a different place entirely.”

“Yeah! Exactly!” Sky can feel himself flustering. Is he making this worse or better? He can’t tell.

Wild thinks about it for longer and it makes Sky anxious.

“And that’s not a bad thing either! Because it was like that already before you got there.” Sky scratches the back of his neck. “Everyone else is used to it, you know?”

“It’s their normal.”

“Precisely.” Sky’s voice gets quieter. Wild seems to be listening to him intently. Sky’s still not sure what to make of it. “So you have to find a new normal despite the change in circumstance.”

They’re slowly catching up to the group once more. It’s like they meant to be repeated for long anyway. 

Wild takes a breath and sighs. “You get to go back to your ‘normal’ though.”

“...I don’t know.” Sky looks to the people in front of him. They all descend from the choice he has yet to make. He has to pave the way for everyone… just to get to Wild. He looks at the young man next to him. “I don’t think I will.”

Wild falls silent again before reaching out and wrapping his arm around Sky’s shoulder. “...That’s mighty noble of you then.”

Sky says nothing. He’s not sure if it’s true or not but he’s not about to ruin the moment further on purpose now.

“...I still hate that place though.”

Sky laughs out loud for a long time.

“You and me both.”

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Two: The Adventure Begins

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, adventure, alcohol, injuries, fluff, angst, smut. Reader is a badass. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). Additional warnings will be posted with each chapter as needed. No use of y/n.

Series masterlist

Chapter Two: The Adventure Begins

Charter day dawned with a sense of energy, leaving you keyed up for the mid-morning arrival of the first guests. You were the first of the deck crew up once again and you returned to the spot from the previous day, hoping to at least lay eyes on Joel. To your great surprise, he was already there, leaning against the rail with two mugs in hand and eyes on the horizon. You were about to approach, broad smile gracing your lips, when you saw Tess join him. She bumped his shoulder gently, eyes sparkling, and slipped the spare mug from his hand. You watched Joel’s head turn toward hers as they fell into quiet conversation. It seemed… intimate.

Your heart plummeted to your stomach.

She must have left the cabin before you even got up. You didn’t notice if she was still there when you left, too focused on the day ahead. Well, that certainly answered your question from the other night – they must be together. You knew better than to hope for anything else.

You slipped away before either of them turned in your direction, returning to the crew mess for something to eat. You’d just hang there until everyone else got up and the workday officially started.

Joel caught your reflection in the large window just as you fled, his brow furrowing. He hoped to see you out here again – it seemed you both gravitated toward the same spots on the boat during the rare quiet moments – but Tess caught him as he was making coffee and asked to join him on deck. He wanted to call out to you, to make sure you knew you were welcome to join them, but you were gone before his brain connected with this mouth.

“Quite the crop of new crew this year,” Tess said, recalling him from the thought of you. Her tone was aiming for nonchalance, but Joel picked up on the underlying intention after so many years of friendship. She was digging.

“Just say what you want to say, Tess,” he grumbled back, eyes once again locked on the horizon.

“You like her.” It was a statement, not a question. Still, Joel knew exactly who she meant, and he was not impressed.

“I hardly know her.”

“Fine. You’re attracted to her then.”

“That a crime worthy of interrogation now?”

This was the way of it. Short statements and questions shot back and forth until Tess was satisfied with whatever information she gleaned, or Joel became annoyed. They never knew which would happen first.

She glared at him. “No. I just haven’t seen that in a long time. Not since—”

“Enough.”

“It’s just… you haven’t gotten involved with anyone on a yacht since then.”

He barely let Tess finish before cutting in with a hissed, “I said enough. I’m not having this conversation on the first day of charter – the second damn day on the boat, for fuck’s sake. And I’m not getting involved with anyone on this yacht.”

Tess held her hands up, mug still clutched in one, and shrugged. “Alright. Pardon the fuck out of me for looking out for my friend.”

As old friends do, they fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their coffee, Joel refusing to think about the past Tess tried to dredge up.

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The first charter guests, a tech mogul with a penchant for innovation and his eclectic entourage, were due to arrive any moment. The interior of the ship was a fury of activity as the deck crew rushed to change into their dress white uniforms to welcome the new arrivals. The interior crew, freshly changed, were pouring glasses of champagne, hands trembling with anticipation. Tess was making last minute checks on the food she prepared so far, before rushing to get changed.

Captain Joel stood near the passerelle with Frank, checking the timer on his watch. He liked to test the crew on their timeliness the first few charters to make sure there was improvement following the first one of the season. At two minutes until Joel’s self-imposed time limit, you and Sarah arrived, a sense of pride and warmth filling him at the sight of you both. You were closely followed by the rest of the crew, all making it before Joel’s watch beeped.

He intentionally called the time early so he and Frank could assess everyone’s uniforms and make sure the interior crew had the champagne and warm towels ready for the guests. He shied away from inspecting your uniform after his earlier conversation with Tess, letting Frank do it instead. After this morning, you weren’t certain how to act or feel around him anyway, so maybe it was for the best. In the end, Joel was suitably impressed that everything was in order and smiled. “Good job,” he said to no one in particular.

You don’t know what you were expecting with this first charter, only knowing that the primary guest was some uber rich tech wiz, but it certainly wasn’t a man-child leading a bunch of outrageously dressed young men and women onto the yacht. The primary could hardly be older than Sarah and he was a billionaire? You could practically hear the collective groan from the crew – you all knew that this charter was going to be… interesting.

“Welcome aboard Radiance. I’m Captain Joel,” he greeted the guests with a handshake as they filed onboard. The rest of the crew stood in a receiving line doing the same until each individual guest had been greeted. “Sarah, our Chief Stewardess, will give you a tour and show you to your cabins. We hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

Your gaze followed Joel as he walked away, broad shoulders stretching the white dress shirt. Your eyes slid down, admiring the curve of his ass in the well-fitted pants, and you shook your head. Must not ogle the captain! Glancing around to see if anyone noticed, you caught Tess’s eye, your cheeks warming at her assessing gaze before shifting your eyes to the floor. Fuck.

What was it about Joel that had you so off kilter? He was just a man. An ungodly attractive man, but a man, nonetheless. Whatever it was, it needed to end. He and Tess clearly had something going on and no matter how large the yacht was, it was too small to get tangled up in that kind of mess.

“Alright, deck crew! Let’s get the luggage onboard and disconnect the passerelle. I recon we’ll be setting off soon,” Tommy directed once the deck was clear of guests. Ever the southern gentleman, he let you and Ellie down the passerelle first, Connor following on your heels, before descending to the dock himself.

“Not too heavy for you, is it, darlin’?” Tommy questioned as you hefted a large bag on one shoulder and rolled another in front of you.

Rolling your eyes, you strutted past him with a scoff. What was it with these Millers and their cutesy little nicknames? You could feel the burn of his gaze on your back as you climbed back onto the yacht without breaking a sweat. You might be a woman, but you were strong. Take that, misogyny.

It took the team a few trips to get all the luggage down to the guest cabins. Once finished, Joel called over the radio that it was time to depart, and Tommy assigned stations. You were on the aft deck with Connor, pulling in the lines as fast as you could as the engine roared to life below the waterline. You listened to Tommy call out distances to Joel over the radio, picking up how seamlessly the brothers worked together. Soon enough, the yacht was cruising into the turquoise waters of the open sea, the breeze tossing your hair around.

There were only a few minutes to enjoy the feeling of being on the water again before Tommy called the deck team to order over the radio for the next task. “Get changed into your dailies. We’re gonna get to work on the toys so they’re ready when we drop anchor.” You let Connor call back the confirmation and set off for your cabins.

The rest of the morning was a blur as you worked getting the jet skis, kayaks, and other water toys ready to launch. Once the anchor dropped in a quiet spot off Puerto Rico, you began inflating and setting up the slide with Ellie while Tommy and Connor put the tender and jet skis in the water.

The charter guests were a rowdy bunch, the alcohol flowing from the moment they were handed that first glass of champagne, and the deck was already a mess from spilled liquid.

“Fuckin’ animals, man,” Ellie grumbled as you cleaned up another broken glass.

You nodded in agreement. “Perhaps the stews should give them plastic cups.”

Watching the stews, you both knew they had it even worse, bending over backwards to meet the guests’ every whim. By the time dinner service was over, Sarah looked exhausted, the stress of training new staff along with challenging charter guests weighing heavily on her. Needing no instruction from Tommy, you swooped in to assist the interior with cleaning up, taking on the pile of dishes stacked by the sink. Ellie followed your lead and jumped in to assist elsewhere, neither of you noticing Joel standing in the doorway, his dark eyes observing everything.

“Hey Dad,” Sarah chirped, buzzing past him as she rushed into the galley with a final handful of dirty glasses. “Thanks for doing that, England! It’s a huge help. This is the last of it. The guests are drunk and sleepy, so they’re off to bed.”

You froze when Sarah came in, unaware that Joel was basically standing there watching you work. Elbow deep in soapy water, you glanced over your shoulder at him, lips tilting upwards of their own accord at the soft expression on his face.

“Did good today,” he said, voice deep and gravelly. You weren’t sure he was talking to you even though his eyes still held yours. Clearing his throat, he broke the connection and glanced at Sarah. “You all did. Quite the first day.”

“Thanks, Dad.” “Cheers, Cap.” Sarah and you spoke at the same time, erupting into exhausted giggles. Joel appeared amused against his will, shaking his head.

“Better hit the hay. I’m sure they’ll keep y’all on your toes tomorrow. Night.” He tapped the counter twice, gazing at you one last time before leaving.

Having looked up from what she was doing, Sarah glanced between you and her dad’s departing figure, calling out a good night to him. She quirked a single eyebrow, one side of her mouth tilting up in a half smile. You were too busy finishing up the washing to notice and set off for bed the moment you were done.

Tess arrived in the cabin as you got out of the shower. “Hey,” she greeted looking as exhausted as you felt. “Long day.”

“Hey. Heard your food was divine today,” you replied, running the last dry patch of the bath towel over your wet hair. “The guests were raving about it.”

“Eh, they were easy to please,” Tess brushed off your compliment, heading for her turn in the shower.

“Alrighty then,” you mumbled to yourself, falling into bed with a quiet groan. Normally the bright light would have kept you from sleep, but you were far too exhausted for anything to stop you from falling into a deep slumber before Tess even got out of the shower.

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“These young people really sleep in. Should I skip breakfast altogether and just go on to lunch? Let all this go to waste?” Tess stared down at all the prep work she did for eggs benedict before glancing at the clock on the wall. It was half eleven and there were no signs of life from the guest cabins. It was beginning to frustrate all the staff, not just Tess. The later they slept in, the later the night would last later.

“I’m not a mind reader, I have no idea what they’ll want when they finally surface,” Sarah grumbled back. It was typical that the Chief Stew and Chef would butt heads on these charters, and this was mild compared to what you’d seen on other yachts, born more from exhaustion than any actual beef between them.

“I volunteer the deck team to take the breakfast food off your hands, if you need the help,” you chimed in, belly growling at the thought of a 5-star eggs benedict.

Tess and Sarah shared an eye roll before laughing at you. “Typical,” Sarah joked, which you expected. What you did not expect, though, was Tess’s response.

“Have at it if you’re hungry.” She handed you a small plate chock full of delicious looking breakfast food. Your eyes widened and a part of you waited for her to pull the plate away in jest. Tess smiled at you instead, holding the plate further toward you. “It’s just gonna go to waste otherwise.”

“Thank you, really,” you replied, flashing her a broad smile as your mouth already watered at the anticipated flavors. Not bothering to take the meal to the crew mess, you feasted right there in the galley. An unholy moan slipped from you at the first bite, the savory flavors unlike any eggs benedict you’d had before. A deep chuckle sounded from the other side of the room, and you nearly choked on the second bite.

“That good, huh?” Joel teased.

All eyes were on you as heat flashed up your neck and cheeks. You had to be overheating. Mortified and torn between fleeing or finishing your free meal, the thought of missing out on such good food left your feet planted in place.

“Indeed, it is,” you shot back, finally finding your voice. “Tess’s food is fucking brilliant.”

As laughter echoed through the galley, Joel continued watching you eat with an unexpected intensity in his deep brown eyes. Frowning back at him, you were confused. How could he look at you like that with Tess right there? And as for Tess, she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by his attention on you instead of her.

“I’m glad you like it,” Tess said. “Think I’ll put that on my resume – my food is fucking brilliant.”

The four of you erupted in laughter again. You were really beginning to like Tess, even if you didn’t understand the dynamic between her and Joel. She was damn good at her job, and you respected that. She was also funny and, apparently, a very good friend to those in her circle.

“Updating your resume? You finally had enough of us?” Joel’s dark chocolate eyes finally shifted from you to Tess. You should have felt a sense of relief. Instead, you were left chilled without the warmth of that heavy gaze on you.

“You wish.” Tess threw a biscuit at Joel’s forehead. He snatched it out of the air with cat-like reflexes and bit into it ravenously, eyes narrowed at Tess the whole time.

It was almost like getting a glimpse at their life as a family rather than in their roles on the yacht, and you felt like an intruder, quietly excusing yourself from the galley before anyone picked up on your sudden discomfort. It was getting to be such a roller coaster being in the vicinity of those two.

It was a relief to find the charter guests starting to emerge when you arrived on the sun deck, knowing it meant you could focus on work.

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“She’s attracted to you, too. In case you were wondering.” Unable to stop herself, Tess started in the moment Sarah was called away to the main salon.

“Will you quit it,” Joel sighed, biting into another wasted eggs benedict. You were right, he thought. Tess’s food was fucking brilliant.

“I shan’t. You need a swift kick in the ass to do anything about it.” The back and forth kept going as Tess refired the eggs after a radio call from Sarah. The guests still wanted breakfast despite it now being early afternoon.

“Tess, please. ‘M the Captain. I can’t do anything about it right now,” Joel explained, hoping in vain that the woman would listen to him for once. “‘Sides, like I said yesterday, I barely know anything about her.”

Feeling extra feisty, Tess threw an eggshell at the exasperating man. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! You can still get to know her while being the captain without doing anything you deem inappropriate.”

Growling frustratedly, Joel wiped egg goo off his cheek. “Just bein’ attracted to her while also bein’ her captain is inappropriate. How can you not see that?”

Tess held up another eggshell, ready to toss it at him when Joel grabbed her wrist tightly. “Throw another damn thing at my face and I will fire your ass, regardless of how fucking good your food is. I mean it.”

“Fine,” she snapped, dropping the detritus into the garbage. “Despite what you think, Mr. Holier Than Thou, getting to know your crew is not inappropriate, even if you are attracted to them.”

Joel huffed, ready to walk away from the entire conversation. As he reached the doorway, he turned back, needing to know something. “Why are you pushing this so hard?”

Eyeing him flatly, Tess shrugged. “Because your love life is so boring – or should I say your lack of love life is so boring.”

“God, you are the worst kind of friend,” he grumbled, turning once again to leave.

“Oh yeah? What kind of friend is that?” she called after him.

“The interferin’ kind!” Joel shout back. Tess’s cackles echoed down the hall behind him.

He gave the idea careful consideration on the journey back to the bridge, though. Perhaps Tess was right – getting to know the staff was not inappropriate. Even being a little flirtatious wasn’t inappropriate. He just didn’t want to risk crossing any lines that would lead to impropriety. He took his career and role on the yacht seriously and didn’t want to do anything to risk that. Joel learned the hard lessons of that long ago, when he was still immature, thinking only with his dick, and it nearly jeopardized everything.

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“Don’t ask me, Uncle Tommy. I just work here,” Sarah snarked, already losing her patience with the demands of the charter guests and, therefore, the other crew. “How the hell should I know what a virtual reality party is?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, lil’ miss,” Tommy barked back.

You and Ellie happened upon the scene in the crew mess by accident, finding both Millers standing lean and tall with hands on their hips, glares crossing. You were a little shocked to be honest and stood silent. Ellie, on the other hand, perked right up at the mention of a virtual reality party.

“The tech wiz wants a virtual reality party? That’s my jam, man. Can I help?” she pleaded, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes! I need all the help I can get with this,” Sarah immediately replied, relieved to have someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

“No! You can’t just steal my crew without consulting with me first, Sarah! That’s not how this works.” Running his hands through his long curls, Tommy tried valiantly to reign in his frustration.

“What are you talking about? You’re standing right here! You were literally consulted when your crew member asked to help right in front of you!”

“There is a process we have to follow, you know this.”

“Why are you deliberately being an asshole, Uncle Tommy?”

It was like watching a tennis match, the back and forth too entertaining to look away as you and Ellie stood there with raised brows and open mouths.

“What in God’s name is going on in here?” Joel’s voice boomed as he entered the crew mess, shocking the other Millers to silence. “I could hear you both two decks up! That is unacceptable when we have guests onboard. Get it together!”

It was quite the sight watching Joel in full-on captain mode while he de-escalated the situation. He listened with unbridled focus as the other two Millers explained their sides, you and Ellie forgotten in the background. In fact, a tiny part of your brain wondered what the hell you were doing still standing there, you had nothing to do with the argument or the planned activity. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to move a muscle, too enamored with watching Joel in action.

“It’s settled, then. Ellie will assist the interior team with the tech-related parts of this charter to meet the needs of the guests. I’m sure this is a solution we can all live with.” Joel commanded, drawing your attention back to the situation rather than obsessing over how attractive he was. He glanced between Sarah and Tommy to confirm they understood, before shifting his gaze to Ellie. “Thank you for pitchin’ in and sharing your expertise, Ellie.”

Turning to you last, Joel’s brow furrowed as if he wasn’t sure why you were there. To be honest, neither were you until you remembered you were supposed to be going on break for an hour. He lingered while the others went back to work, and you shifted to the fridge to pull out something to eat.

“Would you like some?” You offered Joel some of the salad you made earlier and the half a baguette you swiped from Tess, grabbing extra utensils just in case, while his dark chocolate eyes remained focused on your every move.

Much to your surprise, he slid into a spot next to you at the table. “Don’t mind if I do.”

You honestly weren’t expecting that, and it left you stunned for a few moments before Joel plucked a fork out of your hand and began helping himself to your salad. A giggle bubbled up from your belly as you joined him in digging in.

“You settlin’ in alright?” he questioned between bites, his body shifting slightly to face more toward you.

The two of you were alone in the crew mess and his entire attention was focused on you. It was borderline intimidating, yet entirely invigorating. Despite the uncertainty regarding the situation between Joel and Tess, you would soak up the attention and time you got from the handsome captain whenever you could.

“Absolutely, everything is going well so far. I love getting to know new people and working hard. We have a great team, so the work is more fun,” you explained. “How long have you been a captain?”

Taking a moment to finish chewing, Joel smiled. “A long time – about eighteen years. I got my first captain position when Sarah was three.”

You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, and you didn’t want to just come out and ask, but you were trying to piece it together through the tidbits of himself he shared. “Did you always know this would be a career?”

His eyes took on a reminiscent glaze as he nodded. “Once I got my first gig on a shrimp boat the summer before junior year of high school, I knew I wanted to work on the water. There was just somethin’ ‘bout the sea that spoke to me, connected with my soul, and I needed that at the time. I worked my way out of fishing boats to become a bosun on charter yachts by the time I graduated high school. Next thing I knew, I was takin’ courses to get my captain’s license and spendin’ a ton of hours at sea.”

“That must have been hard, especially when Sarah came around.” You never heard him speak so much at once, his voice washing over you pleasantly, and it warmed your heart to learn more about him.

“It was… challengin’ but I was determined and had my parents to lean on back then. They would watch her during the season until she was old enough to accompany me on the yacht. That’s how she fell in love with life on the water, too,” Joel explained. A soft blush was starting to spread across his tanned face, and you knew he was feeling a little exposed now. Sure enough, he turned the focus back to you. “How about you? Lookin’ to make this a career?”

There was such authentic interest in his eyes as he waited for you to answer, and you found yourself sharing stories about your time sailing with your grandfather and how you lost yourself in the corporate world for a while. “I would love to make a career out of yachting – maybe become a First Officer or even Captain – can’t imagine there are a lot of female ones in this industry. I don’t know, but for now, I’m happy busting my bum out there on deck.”

Salad long finished, Joel had his chin perched on his fist as his elbow leaned on the table, listening to you. He was mesmerized, dark eyes soft, soaking up everything you said like a sponge. “I would be happy to guide you if you’d like to become a captain. Give you a behind the scenes look at it, if you will. Like I said, it’s a lot of work, but well worth the effort if you have a passion for the sea like we do.”

Holy shit! Joel Miller wanted to basically mentor you. Eyes wide, you stared at him, stunned. You were already drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Working more closely with him would be awesome… or disastrous. Either way, you weren’t stupid. There was no way you were turning that down.

“Are you serious? That would be fucking brill!” The accent became heavier in your excitement and Joel let out a deep laugh.

The sound of your name being called over the radio shattered the moment and brought you both back to reality. Looking at your watch, your break was long over, and you were late for your duties. You stood, snatching up your radio from the seat beside you, and basically nudged Joel out of the way as you returned Tommy’s radio call. In your haste, you called out over your shoulder to thank Joel for… well, everything.

Joel watched you leave with a chuckle. You were quite something. He didn’t know what it was or why he was drawn to you so strongly, so suddenly, but it was near impossible to fight the urge to be close to you. For someone so terrified of crossing the line, his offer to work more closely with you was probably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done.

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How Ellie was able to pull off a last-minute virtual reality party for the guests was a mystery, but she did, and she nailed it. With her guidance, Sarah was able to secure eight VR headsets, strobe lights, and four drones along with futuristic décor to decorate the flybridge for the party from her provisions contact. It was a hectic afternoon for them both, but the result was amazing, and the guests were thoroughly entertained long into the night. From then on, Ellie became the tech guru of the crew.

The next couple of days went by in a blur, the deck crew kept busy with entertaining the guests on the water and the interior crew rushing around to keep them well fed and as drunk as the guests wanted. The long days left you exhausted, sleeping like the dead at the end of your shifts. There was barely enough time or energy to speak to your coworkers about anything other than what needed to be done that day, let alone talk to Joel about how to go about this mentoring thing.

It was a relief to all the crew when the final morning of the charter arrived. The guests, though young and rambunctious, had been better behaved than you anticipated. As you all stood on the aft deck bidding them goodbye while they departed, the main guest handed Joel a fat envelope with a heartfelt thanks for an entertaining week on the Radiance.

“Alright, finish the cleanin’ and we’ll have a tip meeting in an hour,” Joel told you all once the guests were out of earshot.

Everyone busted their asses for the hour to get as much done as possible knowing that you’d get some much-deserved down time for a day or two before the next charter. You couldn’t wait to let loose a bit. And sleep. You looked forward to lots and lots of sleep.

At the top of the hour, Joel called everyone to the main salon for the tip meeting. Each of you took a spot on the creamy leather sectional as Sarah and Emmy passed out flutes of champagne to celebrate the completion of the first charter. Joel entered the room once everyone was settled, the fat envelope in one hand and a notebook in the other.

“Thanks baby girl,” Joel murmured to Sarah as she handed him the final flute filled with pale bubbling liquid. Settling into the lone armchair, he looked around at the group, lips tilted up in a smile. “I’d say the first charter was a success. Few lil’ bumps along the way that we’ll have to iron out, but you all did well. For those new to the crew, I like to celebrate one of the crew for stepping up on each charter. This week, it’s Ellie for saving the day with the primary guest’s request for a VR party.”

Cheers sounded in the salon, causing Ellie’s cheeks to flush with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“You knocked it outta the park, kid,” Joel said, his eyes shining with pride for the young woman who had become part of his family. “Now, let’s get down to the good stuff – the tip. The primary was really impressed with not only the VR party but the food and service as well. He left us $25,000, which comes down to about $2,777 apiece. Congrats and keep up the good work!”

Another round of cheers echoed through the room as everyone clinked glasses and scooped up their portion of the tip. Downing your own champagne, you set the glass on the table and eagerly fanned the bills in your face.

“We have two free days before the next charter arrives. Go relax and enjoy yourselves. I’ve arranged dinner for ya on the island tonight,” Joel informed you all before standing. “Once the duties are finished today, you’re free to do your own thing.”

Your eyes followed Joel’s form as he left for the bridge. Maybe you’d get a chance to talk to him later. For now, you were looking forward to a shower and an ice-cold beverage. Everything was pretty much wrapped up between the two teams, so everyone headed down to the crew cabins.

“What are you wearing to dinner?” Tess asked as you both searched through your wardrobes. “Knowing Joel, he probably picked one of the nicer restaurants.”

“Does he do that often? Make us reservations?” You pulled out a sleek, black, sleeveless dress that fell right at the knee. “I think I’ll wear this.”

“Joel will usually do this after the first and last charters of the season. Just his way of thanking us, I guess.” Tess eyed the dress in your hands. “That’s a good choice. I’m going with pants, I think.”

You took turns in the bathroom, showering and applying a touch of makeup. You left your hair down to flow over your shoulders in waves. Tess emerged from the bathroom clad in fitted black capris and a sleeveless blouse with a deep vee neck. Her hair was swept to the side, falling over one shoulder. She looked incredibly tall and beautiful, and you felt a pang of insecurity.

“Wow, Tess. You look amazing.” You meant it despite your insecurities.

“You clean up nice as well,” she replied, once again blowing off a compliment with a cheeky smile.

The pair of you chatted for a while before heading out to meet the others in the crew mess. You learned that Tess was from Detroit and only a handful of years older than you. She studied culinary science after falling in love with cooking. And, most surprisingly of all, she was divorced and currently not dating anyone.

That one left you confused. Maybe whatever it was between Joel and Tess was casual, friends with benefits type thing? Curiosity got the better of you and you blurted, “But, aren’t you and Joel a thing?”

The riotous laughter emanating from Tess surprised you further, heat flooding your neck and face at the realization of just how wrong your assumptions were.

“Oh my god, that’s a good one,” she said, eyes watering from the strength of her laughter. “Joel and I are close, but like siblings, not lovers.” Tess was still laughing while your thoughts turned introspective.

Joel and Tess were not together. The shared glances between the two of you made more sense now and you no longer felt guilty about being attracted to him while rooming with who you thought was his girlfriend or lover. It was both a relief and a new type of torture. You still could not do anything about your attraction and that just sucked.

The rest of the crew was at the table, pre-gaming some shots while waiting for everyone to be ready to go. Tess and you joined them, the burn of the liquid sliding down your throat bringing you out of your head. The second shot flooded you with the warm fuzzies, giving your brain a slight buzz.

It was a short walk to the restaurant that overlooked the marina. You walked with Talia and Emmy, taking the opportunity to get to know them a bit. Emmy was amongst the youngest of the crew having just turned 21. She had that youthful glow in her delicate, porcelain skin, with glossy, straight blonde hair. Where Emmy was bright and chatty, Talia was dark and mysterious. Her olive skin shimmered in the moonlight and her thick, dark hair was pinned up at the top her head. Talia spoke smoothly, but shared little about herself, preferring instead to inquire about you and Emmy. You could tell the two of them had formed a bond already over the past week, a sort of protective vibe emanating from Talia toward the younger, less experienced woman.

Ahead of you three, the mismatched pair of Ellie and Sarah were chatting animatedly. You learned from Tess that they were close friends despite the clear differences in their personalities.

Tess led the eclectic group with Tommy, Connor and Sammy tagging along in their wake. Tommy held court, entertaining the other three with some outrageous story, making them all laugh uproariously. The merriment brought a smile to everyone’s face.

The restaurant was busy when you arrived, but the staff had a large outdoor table waiting for you all. You sat between Sammy and Tommy, across from Sarah and Tess. Tommy regaled the table with more tall tales as the group ordered drinks and tapas, Tess pointing out the best things on the menu.

“So, there we were, naked as the day we were born, and the damn police show up. Our clothes were nowhere to be found, the girls must have hidden them or somethin’. As the two officers approached, Joel noted that they’re both chicks and, instead of covering himself up, he stood there with arms crossed in front of his chest and a smirk on his face. Before they could utter a word, he said, ‘like what ya see, darlin’?’ and I lost it.”

Tommy took a moment to catch his breath and take a long sip of his drink. “Needless to say, we were arrested, and the cops paraded our naked asses through the whole station before offering us something to cover up with.”

“My dad is such an idiot!” Sarah declared happily, not looking the least bit scandalized about her dad’s behavior. You assumed she must have heard this story, and likely many others, before.

The entire table was hysterical with laughter and the server delivered another round of drinks. Your mind was in the gutter, envisioning Joel naked and proudly confronting a couple of female cops. The mere idea of it was doing something to you…

“Who bailed you out?” you asked suddenly, needing to distract yourself from naughty thoughts about your boss.

“I did,” Tess chimed in before Tommy could answer. “And it wasn’t the first time. The two of them were nothing but trouble back then. Still are, in many ways.”

Why weren’t you surprised? They really were like siblings, over twenty years of friendship making them more like family.

After dinner, the group of you ventured over to a nearby bar for more drinks and some dancing. The place was busy but not packed, with plenty of room on the dance floor for some booty shaking. A couple shots and you were the first of the group on the floor, Sammy soon joining you, dancing in circles around each other with bright, buzzed smiles. Tommy sidled up behind you, sandwiching you between him and Sammy as you wiggled your hips to the beat.

For a brief moment, your drunken mind worried about the appropriateness of dancing like this with Tommy, but his hands remained on your waist without straying and you let yourself fall back into the pull of the music blaring from the sound system. Hips rocking, arms waving, and hair tossed around wildly, the three of you were working up a sweat on the dance floor when the remainder of the group joined you. Emmy and Connor were quick to get close, grinding on each other and sharing boozy glances. Your buzzed mind briefly wondered if they’d hook up.

You danced until exhaustion won out, the group of you stumbling back to the yacht ready to crash in your bunks.

It was late, but Joel was still up, awaiting the safe return of his daughter and the rest of the crew before he could sleep. He watched from the shadowed upper deck as the group approached. Sarah and Tess appeared to be the least inebriated of the bunch and he was proud of his daughter for having fun without losing herself in the alcohol. You, on the other hand, were quite drunk, leaning heavily on an equally drunk Tommy, supporting each other as you stumbled onto the passerelle.

Joel’s jaw clenched at the sight of his brother’s arms around you, the pair of you rumpled and sweaty, and he turned away, heading for his quarters now that everyone was back on board.

[spiritofwhitefire]

As someone who still gets triggered by the Elwing bashing (and Earendil as well), even if it's 2024, I understand your frustrations so badly. It's the fact that a man can do the most horrific shit ever to that woman and people will feel more sympathy for the man and ignore the woman's pain/insult the decisions the woman made in a very emotional moment (it's even worse because it reflects real-life situations too). Using the twin's age to justify that everything was 'uwu happy adoption' makes me cringe so hard like why are y'all celebrating the fact that the twins were orphans, that they lost their actual home and their people? They were safe in Sirion and that wasn't adoption at all, that's kidnapping and they were treated as hostages which consequently is traumatizing for the twins but nope, they won't acknowledge that. And the 'they were better off with m&m' I'm sorry these two were already at the lowest point in their lives, they were not mentally and emotionally there. Very nice that love grew between them, at least we know the twins weren't abused but guess what, they were already loved by the people of Sirion. Cirdan and Gil-galad were about to save them so the decision to keep the twins instead of returning them was so fucking selfish of m&m. The twins aren't emotional crutches for those two, they are children who deserve to grow up in a safe environment, not in the vicinity of murderers of their kin. "If they still prefer m&m to their parents that’s some manipulation going on there." finally someone says it, it's very true and leaning on the 'm&m are better parents' and 'the twins hate their parents but love the kinslayer's more' agenda that they have going on. It's so true that "no amount of love can erase the loss and blood that someone inflicted on you" yet somehow the fandom lovesss to portray that there was no trauma at all, it's all happy and fun and all the bs. I've read this from a post but they said it's always the twins 'resenting' their parents but there is never a 'the twins resent m&m' for putting them through that shit. Might I add that Elwing's suicide attempt is always grossly made fun of by the fandom but Maedhros's suicide gets so much analysis and sympathy. And I just wanna say, despite me loving the feanorians, it's so hard to digest content that purposely shits on Elwing and her family. Fuck, this was too long, I am sorry, it's just that I still see shit like that floating everywhere, and it never fails to make my blood boil.

Fucking thank you, it’s nice to see someone who actually agrees with me. I’m glad I haven’t seen anyone actually make fun of elwings suicide attempt. But in general they seem to demonize her to a degree that just gals me. And it’s specifically because they don’t like what she represents about the feanorians. With doriath everyone can sympathize with the victims because it s celegorm curufin and caranthir who are mainly the monsters. But no one wants Mae or mags to ever come off as cruel and guess what?? They are! Or rather they have it in them to be. Are they always cruel? No! It would be boring if they were but it’s also boring and frankly asinine to rewrite a classic work of fiction because you’re kindlaying meow meow committed an atrocity after already committing two whole previous atrocities. And to throw one of the few women in the story under the bus after her home was destroyed, her family destroyed and her livelihood destroyed? Say you hate women without saying you hate women, go ahead say it

[cookstorys]

hi I just found your blog and your the only one that I’ve seen that does outerbanks. If it’s not to much trouble could I request a rafe Cameron x sunshine male reader, were he wants to be a better person because the guy he’s crushing on never have up on him.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

_____________

Character- Rafe Cameron

Show/Movie- Outer Bands

Warning- Rafe being crazy 😝☝🏾, haven’t watch outer banks in a while so I had to remember what I could 🕴🏾, sunshine reader showed a lil dark side at the end😰

Author Notes - Im genuinely so sorry for the long wait, you’ve been waiting so long and you’ve been so extremely patient, thank you! Part 2? 🤭

Females dni

_____________

The time was 2:45 am. Granted the [hair color] haired boy should’ve been in bed enjoying his weekend but when he got a worrying text from his friend he awoke immediately. On your way to his location, you could only imagine what he had gotten into. For all you knew he could’ve killed someone. God, you hoped he didn’t kill anyone.

You slowly pulled up to a boat dock. Putting your car in park your heart almost immediately fell to your stomach. You’re the mayor’s son, alone in the dark, with nothing to protect yourself but a rusty pocket knife. ‘He’s your friend, and you love him’ you mumbled to yourself. After a few more minutes in your car, you nervously got out. Your footsteps were the only thing that could be heard as you hurriedly walked toward the docks.

If there wasn’t a light pole near the end of the dock you wouldn’t have been able to identify Rafe at the end of the dock staring down at his reflection. Slowly walked towards him, not wanting to scare him. Once you’ve beside him you spoke. “It’s pretty nice out huh?” His head snapped to look at you, obviously startled at your presence. “You came?” You chuckled at the dumb question. You gently shoulder-bumped him with a smirk. “What else are friends for.”

His stomach fluttered with butterflies. Friends. He could never quite get used to that word. He huffed out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Do you… do you think I’m a bad person?” Your eyes pulled away from the stars to observe his face. His eyes twinkled with sorrow, and his lips stayed still, as his jawline clenched and tightened. You concentrated your eyes back on the shining moon. “Everyone’s a bad person in some way. Yes, some out-way others. However, no one’s completely a good person. Not to mention what makes someone a bad person?” You could feel his confusing eyes land on your calm persona. “I’m lost.” He replied.

“Think of it like this. Someone who steals is considered a bad person correct? But what if they’re stealing to pay for their mother’s medical bills? Some might say stealing is stealing, he belongs in jail. Others might say he’s stealing for genuine reasoning so it’s ok.” Rafe chuckled at your tiny morale rant. “So, does that mean I’m a bad person?” Rafe asked and for the first time that night, you looked at each other. “You tell me, Rafe, are you?” His eyes purposefully pulled away from yours, clearly trying to not say something.

“I don’t know,” he cried. “I’ve been trying to be a good person to make you happy, but I can’t keep this up.” He burst into tears. You pulled him into one of your amazing hugs, his head rested on your shoulder as he continued to cry. “I almost drowned Sarah [name], my fucking sister. What the fuck is wrong with me.” He sobbed. You tried to keep your calm composure but the newly learned information took you aback but you refused to show it.

You pulled him away from your touch, taking his head between your hands. “You listen to me Rafe Cameron, you are not a bad person. Just someone who’s made mistakes. Now answer me this…is she dead?” You asked shaken up. “No, Topper stopped me before I could do anything more.” He answered finally calming down. “Good, Rafe where is Topper exactly?” Rafe had to think for a second but finally answered. “He should be at his vacation house until his dad’s back from business.” You smiled at this newly learned information, pulling Rafe back into a hug.

“Ok, remember Rafe I’m always here for you.”

[conjectureand-gloom]

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ welcome! ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

important information ⬎

alex

they/he/xe/it

non binary 💛🤍💜🖤

lesbian ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

youreverydaydemikid -> conjectureand-gloom (15/01/24)

minor (february 8th)

multifandom

fanfiction writer

GMT +10:30

INFP-T

2w1

lyn lapid fan blog @tlit21c

i stand with palestine 🇵🇸

my new main account is @holesofmy-sweater

links ⬎

my ao3

my spotify

my pinterest

my instagram (that i’m barely active on)

hamilton fanfic recommendations

2023 reflection post

fandom list, fanfiction request masterlist, written works, wips, asks, tags and mutuals under the cut

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ fandom list ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

hamilton (feel free to request for any hamilton ship, i love them all so much, alexander is the absolute DREAM for a multishipper. alexander is my main target for angst! this is my main fandom)

jesus christ superstar (jesus/judas or jesus/judas/mary mainly for jcs, but feel free to ask for any other ships and i’ll consider it!! and no, i am not religious. i have been raised christian, but just ended up with religious trauma)

a good girls guide to murder (pipravi fluff and angst :) but i’ll so gladly write fics about sal and andie, or becca. ravi is my comfort character, and i just torture pip relentlessly)

nevermoor (personally i’m more of a cadence/morrigan girly, but fics for nevermoor will mainly be gen! i love found family, so jupiter & mog fluff or angst is my favourite)

in the heights (canon ships mainly, but feel free to ask for other ships! i’m not in the ITH fandom much, so these are going to be much more inaccurate)

newsies (again, more gen fics, but i do ship dave/jack. also i love angsty crutchie fics. this is one of my smaller fandoms, so these will be super inaccurate)

keeper of the lost cities (preferably marella/linh or tam/keefe! but again, feel free to ask for any ship!!)

hunger games (gen, preferably. but i’m team peeta in case anyone was wondering. fuck gale.)

maze runner (okay i haven’t read or seen TMR in ages but newt/thomas)

divergent (canon ships only. and no, christina/tobias is not canon.)

six (gen all the way. found family. also i love katherine howard angst over any other queen)

the song of achilles (achilles/patroclus? literally what other ship is there????? this is my favourite book)

wednesday (wednesday/enid. i feel like this requires no explanation. also. angst fics. i almost exclusively write angsty wednesday fics, rather than enid. i love the whole of the addams family, and i love familial hurt/comfort)

marauders (i’m not in the marauders fandom much at all, like i really only know the actual hp canon marauders. so.)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ fanfic request rules ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

i’ll write for any fandom listed above, i love them all! however i am much more active in hamilton, agggtm, jcs, nevermoor and kotlc, so those fics will be much better than the other fandoms’ would be

i’ll write any genre other than smut, and angst/whump is my absolute favourite. any AUs you could think of, literally anything, i’m not picky!

i won’t write romanticised abuse, non/con, or anything like that. that’s not to say that my fics can’t have dark aspects, but i won’t romanticise any of that.

on that, i’m not going to write any non/con, romanticised or not

also, i won’t write omegaverse, nor will i write y/n or self insert fics. nothing wrong with those genres, i just don’t write them!

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ written works ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

It’s Only A Matter Of Time - A Hamilton Watches Hamilton Fic

i wish i could say that was the last time

call me son one more time

when they surround our troops

then a hurricane came

take a break

and his right hand man…

she was holding me

the great war

we got traffic on the west side

steal into my affections

the fact that you’re alive is a miracle

fools who run their mouths off wind up dead

my father wasn’t around

philip, you would like it uptown

i may not live to see our glory…

an outrageous demand

stay alive

my dear, angelica

to convince you that i love you

but this situation’s helpless

like mother, like daughter (agggtm)

“but now this room is spinning…”

“i’ll call out your name but you won’t call back”

“like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon”

me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you (gifted to @holes-in-my-false-confidence)

baby it’s cold outside

the entire exposé (inspired entirely off of @jittyjames’ fanfiction series ‘the price of his war’)

my world is burning (yet another fic based off of jami’s series ‘the price of his war’)

i’m sorry if any of these links are incorrect, i spent over an hour on just this section

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ wips ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

achilles, come down (last two works in series still need to be written)

je m’appelle… lafayette? (one chapter to go)

lams (taylor’s version) (a few chapters to go, unsure if it will be finished)

you’re the one who disappears (agggtm, unsure if it will be finished, or when)

judas’ death (jcs angst fanfiction)

untitled (hamil-gang liminal spaces au longfic thing idk)

febuwhump drabbles (possibly)

be my valentine challenge

so big/so small (so big/so small from deh but hamilton and his ma)

bloom like rose thorns (a longfic that may or may not ever be finished)

rewrite of ‘i wish i could say that was the last time’ and ‘call me son one more time’

baby don’t cut (lams angst based off of a song with the same name)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ collaborations ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

fem!hamilton au with @jittyjames and @firebalda

if anybody is interested in collabing at all, please hit me up!! i love writing with other people!!!!

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ asks ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

please send me any asks at all!!! and also please put fic requests in my ask box, i did say that i would have your request out in 6 months, but i have had one sitting in there for over a year (sorry jami.) but um. i promise im trying to get better at that

also, feel free to ask for fic recommendations!!!! i’ve linked a post earlier in this post with a huge list, but it’s not fully updated with some more recent fics :)

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ tags ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

asks- all the asks ive answered, these are also tagged with the url of the blog, or with anon dearest if it was an anon ask

akeyla ml- posts about/with my incredible incredible partner @holes-in-my-false-confidence who i love so much ❤❤❤❤❤❤

tag games- self explanatory, tag games :)

sleep is overrated- me trying to fix my sleep schedule in 2024

personal- personal vent posts. please block this tag, i have had someone unfollow me before because of these posts :)

₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧ mooties ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

@jittyjames

@like-the-stars-i-shine (irl friend for 5 years now)

@holes-in-my-false-confidence (my partner, irl <33333)

@felizusnavidad

@weeping-in-the-willows

@swiftieannah

@the1laff

@anixknowsnothin

@purpleblobfrompluto

@starduckys

@now-thats-his-bride

@kwilooo

@evilteapot (irl friend)

@my-dear-gal

@idontwanttobeabuzzkill

@mynightsoutofsight

@cc-horan28

i have more mutuals, but this is everybody who i interact with more often and i actually consider to be my friend. if anybody wants to ever message me or actually become friends with me, please do!!!! i love talking to you guys, please message me, i promise im not scary <333

[ca-suffit]

i haven’t read the books but from the way some book stans talk about lestat like he’s some saint, i was not expecting sam in that interview to be like no actually he loves being evil and he’s really good at it and all the stuff about male rage/akasha and the devil being like wow he’s so terrible i need to recruit him actually. and i’ve seen the odd comment on twitter that’s like oh poor sam for having to put up with this lestat character assassination. like i don’t wanna call ppl out but i saw someone say “he signed up for anne rice’s iwtv, not rolin jones’s iwtv 😢” like ??? no actually he did sign up for rolin’s adaptation. and then they act like he’s so put out by the changes like a) he’s getting paid to pay his favorite character i think he’s okay. and b) even if he has reservations or questions about a change or even outright disagrees with one, he’s always full of praise for the final product and for rolin in general. like girl he is fine lol. like he said, some changes needed to be made and were for the greater good e.g. wrt improving the louis character.

I forget if he clarified in the interview or not, but that bit he says about going to hell comes right from the books

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these." I should have taken a deep breath. But you know, it was like playing the violin for Akasha. I wanted to do it. I wanted to see what would happen, I mean, with a beautiful little girl like that! Oh, Lestat, you deserve everything that ever happened to you. You'd better not die. You might actually go to hell. But why was it that for purely selfish reasons, I didn't listen to some of the advice given me? Why didn't I learn from any of them-Gabrielle, Armand, Marius? But then, I never have listened to anyone, really. Somehow or other, I never can.

he's not a saint (but he wants to be one for a second lol) but I personally didn't feel like he was that "evil" either. anne rice wasn't rly a good writer and fired her editor 3 books in on top of it. the series was unplanned and it's a wreck. he does awful shit but nothing I'd view makes him rly "evil," so it was a struggle for me to get on board with all that. an internal fight about how he views himself, I could understand, but idk what was rly that bad otherwise. especially cuz she was so in luv with him that consequences for anything he does just drop off as the books go? let me not write a whole thing about this lol. but ya the good and evil thing is from the books. the rice-a-ronis do mention it in posts sometimes but ever since the show has aired, everything has to be explained away now, bcuz they don't like black and brown characters or fans judging their white fav. he's either an innocent meow meow or a gothic monster, depending what mood they're in that day to dodge whatever criticism comes for them.

AMC explores a lot of stories about violent men so I've never understood this insistence like it's going to be some soft romantic series. the romance is gonna exist in the violence somehow, especially cuz they're vampires. louis slamming dreamstat's head into a rock wall while being goaded to do it bcuz dreamstat says it's the only way louis knows how to luv is sort of peak loustat for where we're at rn. I'm sure eventually they'll be more tender but it's still gonna have gritty undertones for the network it's on and who is writing it. the stans luv to make it about gendered shit, like rolin is ruining it all bcuz he's a man, but anne rice wrote violent, fucked up things too. worse than the show is prbly going to go. it's all excuses. u can just not like something without having to justify ur dislike of it to death. like damn. it's not ur taste, just stop watching??

and yes sam is a grown ass man getting prbly a good paycheck from this so loll he will be fine!