#I'm not upset about being messaged about this by the way i hope it doesn't come off like that

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

hii i have a maybe somewhat difficult question:

how do you go about writing all of the police/detective stuff? I have no knowledge at all about that except having played the game a few times and watching bbc sherlock back when that was a thing.

I have so many cool kimharry things in my mind that i need to get on paper but i don't know how to involve all the cop stuff in a natural way because i don't know anything about it and don't want it to be too wildly incorrect.

so yeah.. how do you even learn the things for this?

thank you so much i love your work

Quite a difficult question I won't lie...... But I've answered at length so it's going under a readmore

This isn't my favourite thing to discuss online as it can trigger my psychosis, but I have an actual dismaying amount of experience with cops. I don't want to talk about it but... Bit like Cuno I suppose. Good ending for that kid is doing public services training ages 14 - 16, and going "oh this is shit actually" once he's got an out from his abusive parent, then working at a restaurant

I quite literally cannot go into detail - so don't ask because I WILL delete this post - but an ex military police officer told us a "funny story" about a "prank" he played on some kids in an occupied location during the late 80s that I recognised as psychological torture, but made my peers laugh. So I decided to become a faggot and poet instead.

~NOW FOR THE FUN ADVICE THAT IS ACTUALLY OF USE TO YOU!

Research:

Honestly, the amount of time I spend looking up stuff for writing is probably more than the time I spend writing. The internet's being fucked by SEO but it's a start. Like... There's plenty of info out there written on the police and their role in systematic oppression, I'm pretty sure there's free PDFs floating around on Tumblr actually...

If it's more "day in the life" I honestly don't know. Maybe reddit or if there's one of those "Ex-[blank} reviews [blank] in movies" videos on Youtube for cops, but obviously take everything said with a pinch of salt.

FAYDE:

Fayde is the best tool at your disposal. We bully Kim a lot for his dedication to the RCM but that makes finding out info pretty easy. EDC too! I've never played with high EDC so just typing in key words (especially names of other officers to try and get character info) and scrolling through is helpful.

Good keywords are "precinct", "RCM", "Militicia" as they'll bring up opinions/ info from other characters.

The RCM is not a traditional police force:

I would worry less about accuracy and more about being interesting. It doesn't need to be a perfect representation of police work since the canon makes a point of there being a distinction in the powers and roles of the RCM. Go listen to the collapsing tenement cut content. You don't need to write about them filling in forms if it's not relevant. It'll show in your writing if you're unsure/ bored.

Make them worse:

If you're going to write one of the officers doing something shitty (yes, that includes Kim and Harry) but worry that you've gone too far then I promise you haven't. Dickheads are drawn to positions of power and the impunity it gives them. There's a reason I wrote one of the 57's officers as a groomer.

Make them less competent:

Don't trust the police, but also don't expect anything of them.

As recently as Monday I had to call for the fire brigade because a lit (thankfully poorly made) petrol bomb had been left under a neighbour's car (I live an irritatingly interesting life for somebody who lives in the middle of fucking nowhere) nobody was harmed. Cop came to find me afterwards to get an interview from me since I'd spotted it and he told me, I kid you not, "Yeah, we're not gonna do anything unless anything else happens." Like, I expected as much but I wasn't expecting him to up and fucking say that. You're welcome for 85% of my council tax, you fucking moron.

Harry's a special case because he's, like, psychic and got "maybe if I solve *THIS* one my wife will let me sleep in the big bed" disorder, and nobody wants to read a case fic that they... don't solve (or do they..? *winks*) But if you care about realism you need dick-in-hand dipshits. Another favourite quote of mine from an officer two years back; "Is 'right wing' the good one or the bad one?" So the advice here is you're writing a cop well if you're reading it and thinking: holy shit please just go work at a TESCOs instead.

Don't worry so much:

You should write, first and foremost, for yourself. I like detective fiction, I have wasted an unfortunate amount of my life dealing with police due to my job and shit childhood. (I did originally write far more about this, but frankly it's better for myself if I don't bother. That's why it's taken me five days to answer this)

I've read/ watched a lot of detective fiction and I'm always more drawn to stuff that is less based in police work. Private investigators, investigative journalists, kid detectives like Nancy Drew, ect.

In particular my favourite book, perhaps of all time, is called Hideaway by Dean Koontz and is two fathers (one: the killer's father - a talented doctor who brought his shithead son back to life - and another, the doctor's most recent patient to be brought back from the brink who has developed a psychic link with the killer as a result) trying to stop him, but never actually meeting! It's one hell of a read if you need inspo.

Val McDermott is a good author for crime writing with less police input, too. She has a book called Killing The Shadows which is excellent. The Killer's motive is taking out crime writers who've romanticised psychological profilers after he was wrongly convicted. Fair enough! Until he starts... Killing about it? Sort of defeats the message... Anyway, what's fun about this book is that before each crime writer is killed (in the same way they wrote THEIR killers killing!! Love that) you get to read the first chapter of each writer's most famous work. So you are essentially getting six crime books in one (first chapter of at least) ...Also the main character's husband is a crime writer called Kit, which I've only remembered just double checking the book name now. Lol???

...This is just turning into me recommending books.

TLDR: write what you know, write what is fun, ACAB, don't even worry about it

[hippo-pot]

also i do now think that the villain characterization is On

[maidragoste]

hiii can i request a jace velaryon x reader where they are betrothed and jace is head over heels for her but she doesn’t want to get married because she knows it’s a political marriage and she doesn’t think jace likes her because he avoids her (not really ���avoids” but tries to keep distance by ending convos quickly or not sitting next to her during mealtimes etc) due to his crush and being nervous around her.

ps. i’m so sorry for you loss, my cats are my babies so i am sending you an extra tight hug :(

Hi, anon, thank you very much for your message 🫂🫂 I hope you are well 💖💖

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish your request but I hope you like the result 🥰🥰

As I always say, likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated because they motivate me to keep writing 🤭💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

To say that you are excited about your engagement would be a lie.

Well, actually, at first you were, after all, every girl's dream was to marry a prince. But any fantasy of a loving marriage was put to rest with your fiancé's attitude.

Jacaerys Velaryon is not a bad man, he is not rude or treats you badly. But he clearly doesn't like you. Every time you try to have a conversation with the prince he finds a way to excuse himself to quickly end any interaction with you. When he arrives after you to the dining room and you smile at him giving him a clear invitation to sit next to you, you always end up disappointed because he is going to sit next to his brothers. But you never felt so humiliated as right now. You thought he would ask you to dance, you were sure he was watching you from the other side of the room and when you saw that Prince Aegon, King Viserys' son, gave him a push towards where you were sitting you thought it was to encourage him to ask you to dance, but when Jacaerys approached instead of offering you his hand he gave it to Baela, who was sitting next to you. You stared at your lap feeling deeply embarrassed and wishing to go home.

Maybe the problem was that Jacaerys wanted a Valyrian bride and instead, he had to settle for you, a noble girl without a dragon or violet eyes. But if that was the reason why Jacaerys wasn't even forcing himself to make this not just a political marriage then you thought he was a fool.

You wanted the party to end so you could go to your chambers and write to your mother to beg her to convince your father to break off the engagement. You didn’t want to marry Jacaerys.

“Will you dance with me?”

You raised your eyes from your lap to see Aegon Targaryen, your fiancé’s younger brother. You felt mortified, you must have been such a pitiful sight that the kid decided to take pity on you and put you out of your misery.

“It would be an honor my prince” You took a while to reply but Aegon never got nervous, in fact, he seemed sure that you wouldn’t refuse him.

The little prince led you to the dance floor like a good gentleman and the two of you began to dance. You honestly thought that he would at least step on you by accident once but the truth is that he dances very well.

“My brother can be quite a fool sometimes,” Aegon said, drawing your full attention, and if you weren’t already so upset with Jacaerys, then you would have told him he shouldn’t talk about his own brother like that. “I think he acts like that with you because you make him nervous.”

“That sounds foolish,” you said, not allowing yourself to have any hope that your possible future brother-in-law is right.

“I told you, he’s a fool,” he said with a small smile before spinning you around.

You were shocked when you finished spinning and found that your new dance partner was none other than your headache: your fiancé. You tried hard not to feel anything when his hand took yours and his other hand placed itself on your hip.

“You look beautiful,” Jacaerys said, surprising them both because he hadn’t planned to say that out loud. “It’s not that you didn’t look beautiful the other days, you always look beautiful,” he quickly clarified, afraid that he had offended you unintentionally when he saw that you remained silent.

You bit your lip, trying not to smile when you noticed his nerves. Maybe Prince Aegon was right.

“Thank you, my prince. It’s good to know that you don’t displeasure me.”

“Displeasure me? “Why would you think I displeasure you?” His pretty brown eyes looked at you distraught.

“Because you don’t spend time with me,” you answered obviously. “You seem to prefer being anywhere than being with me. It’s a miracle that you’re dancing with me right now.” There was no harshness in your tone but Jacaerys still felt embarrassed. “You know your brother told me something interesting, I’d like to know if he’s right or wrong,” you said, drawing the prince’s attention.

“What did Aegon say to you?”

“He told me that I make you nervous and that's why you avoid me,” you replied cheekily and watched with delight as a slight blush appeared on his face upon being discovered.

“I am so sorry, my lady."I shouldn't have had such a shameful attitude,” he apologized, realizing that because of his nerves, he had given you the wrong idea. It had never been his intention to make you think he didn’t like you.

“I will not accept your apology,” your words were like a slap to him and he couldn’t help but tense up. You weren’t even married and he already managed to upset you. “At least until I see your change of attitude,” you declared and felt excited as you saw his eyes fill with determination. Suddenly he seemed to have gained confidence.

"I'll do it. I will reward you,” Jacaerys promised, determined to be a better fiancé and not disappoint you again. He wanted to lay the groundwork for a good marriage with you.

“I can’t wait to see that,” you smiled, and he quickly returned your smile, feeling happy that you were willing to give him another chance.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works:

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hotd masterlist

[lostinlads]

Floof Attack

Synopsis: Xavier had always been a clingy kitty, one of the perks working from home is that he could always be at your side. But leaving for a few days to attend your friend's wedding had been a mistake. You find your sweet boy out in the garden. With his back turned to you, you try to draw his attention, but he only feels abandoned. How do you deal with a sulking Xavikitty? Well, you don't need any hints. You know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring.

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, guided handjobs, outdoor sex, fluff, use of pet names (kitty, sweet star, darling, sweet boy, my love), pouty xavier, yearning, soft sex, CATBOY!XAVIER, jeremiah and jenna mention

Words: 4.2k

a/n: in light of the new banner and my hyperfixation on catboys i have decided to release fics about them! i hope you enjoy! ive been sitting on these plots since they have been announced so they arent 100% accurate to the cards but they have my own spin on them!

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker master list | kofi

You step out of the cab and as soon as your feet touch the ground you sigh, happily. You're home, finally. After a weekend away for Jenna's wedding you wanted nothing more than to climb onto your couch, stretch out and nap - but not without your loving kitty, Xavier. He had been upset with you leaving for the weekend, not able to bring him along, to the point he nearly stole your suitcase from you to force you to stay. The look on his sad face as you closed the door on him etched into your mind - the slight tremble to his lip, his wide blue eyes glossy, and his fluffy ears sagging as he stood in the living room watching you go. 

Your mutual friend Jeremiah stopping by a few times a day with takeout, so Xavier doesn't burn your house down and to keep him company. Even sending you a few sneakily taken pictures of him napping, curling in on himself, fluffy tail resting over his stomach. It only made you miss him more and more each day, to feel his soft fur under your fingertips, his warm body enveloping you as you sleep, to see him perched on the counter as you make food. It only took you three days to realize how much he took up your life, how every little thing made you think of him. 

But you were finally home, walking up to your front door as the weight in your chest finally lifts. As you make your way inside, noting the stillness of the house as you set your bags by the door. You want to call out to him, but the thought of waking your sleepy kitty stops you in your tracks. 

An hour ago, Jeremiah left, messaging you that he left Xavier on the couch sleep as he left your home. Seeing that he wasn't there, only left you the option to go look for him. You make your way through your small, shared home, looking in all of his usual hang out and nap spots to find nothing. You peek out of your kitchen window, out to your garden. Seeing movement your eyes catch a glimpse of a pair of fluffy ears, and a thick swishing tail. 

Grabbing the small gift bag you brought home for him, you make your way outside. Lush grass under your sandals, birds singing in nearby trees, the scent of flowers filling your senses. Xavier was found crouching by a patch of forget-me-nots, ears flicking back towards you, obviously listening to your footsteps as you approach. You sit behind him on the small bench next to a tree, placing the bag beside you as you watch your sweet kitty. 

"I'm home," Your voice sweet, almost relieved. Xavier's tail swishes and his ears flick back towards you before they fixate themselves forward again. 

''Hmph," He pouts, not taking his eyes from his flowers. Your sulking Xavikitty obviously isn't impressed with your leave, not wanting to even talk to you shows how upset he was for being left home alone. Time to step up your game and hopefully make it up to your sensitive cat boy. 

You reach into the bag at your side, fingers brushing past the dried fish treats, small cat toys, and finally land on the cat wand. You pull it out, slowly in hopes the bell doesn't jingle just yet. Holding it out to his side you pause before you shake it. Watching the sun rays on his creamy white skin, making his light blond hair glow like an angel. The fluff of his ears almost creating a halo around his head. Times like this, you are reminded how blessed you were that he was your companion, having the most beautiful cat person at your side for a lifetime. With a smile you shake the toy, a soft jingle perking his ears high on his head.

"...A bell?" He questions, whipping around fast. His eyes find the toy, then slowly trail up to you making eye contact. His ears droop, a pout set on his pink lips as he looks at you. You take the opportunity to shake the toy again, summoning him closer to you. Luckily it works, Xavier turning more as you lift the toy in the air above his head. You watch him try to catch it, just out of his reach, hands clasping nothing but air as you move it away, closer to you. He follows it, crawling closer to you until you finally let him grasp it. One hand closing around the toy as the other closes around your hand, holding it still long enough for him to slip the wand from it. 

"I'm pretty sure you got what you wanted. Why are you still shaking it?" Pouting as he places the wand at his feet, brows furrowed as he looks into your eyes. His hand never leaves yours, the warmth of his skin on yours already melting your heart, telling you that you're home, that your love is right here. 

"I haven't, actually." You say with a shake of your head, his ears perking back up. "But I'm close to getting it." Taking his hesitation, you slip your hand from his grasp, other hand coming up to his soft ear. Xavier dodges your touch, moving his head to the side as he lets out a shocked gasp. But you reach back, his ear twitching just before your fingers slowly caress his soft fur. He hums, almost as if he's proving a point, leaning gently into your touch. Blush creeping up to his cheeks, painting them a beautiful soft pink as his eyes meet yours again. Shiny blue eyes with gorgeous long eyelashes landing on your face, obvious protest in them as he almost forces himself to still hold a grudge. 

"So you remembered to be gentle with my ears," He pouts once more in an almost whine. Lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched, accusingly. You laugh, rubbing his soft hair, loving your pouty kitty. Though it wasn't often, Xavier could be one of the most pouty, whiny cats you've ever met. Usually after meeting stray cats or occasionally men, coming home and smelling them on your clothes and skin, always huffing with his ears flat to his hair.

Your hand travels back up to his ear, sensitive to the touch as always. Thumb pressing firm against his inner ear, fingers wrapping behind as you stroke up, thick fur slipping between as you make your way back down. Xavier's breath deepens, eyes closing in the sensation of his hypersensitivity. You glide your hand back up to the tip, rubbing the thin flesh between your hand - something that always drove him crazy.

"Why do you keep pushing your luck when you find an opening?" He pants out, breath heavy as he revels in your touch. Dragging your hand down, you cup his cheek. A sweet smile playing on your lips as your thumb swipes along his smooth, soft skin. He leans into you, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your warmth - something he has been denied for the entire weekend. As he tries, you pull away, his ears drooping, eyes softening into an almost pathetic plea for you.

"We don't stop halfway when it comes to these things, right?" His own way of begging you to continue, to please and love on him until he gets his fill. You obey with a soft chuckle, hand reaching up to his untouched ear to stroke it. Both twitching at your touch, an instant reaction as your fingers glide over the fur. Slowly, his composure slips, leaning his head against your arm as you brush your nails over him. His hot breath fanning on your skin as he moves his head to match your motions, intensifying the sensation. You watch as your kitty's eyes roll, lids fluttering shut as his lips part, his blush deepening under his pretty eyes. His fluffy tail behind him sways almost on its own in satisfaction.

"Yeah..." He moans out, lids lifting as his lustful gaze meets yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, his hand coming to caress your arm, urging you to continue. "Right there. By my ear..." He pleads, another breathy moan slipping from his lips, shooting right to your core. His head turns, unable to control himself as his rough tongue kitten licks up your forearm, lips placing a gentle kiss to your wrist. Wetness grows between your thighs, seeing him crumble so easily from just a touch made you want to consume him. Have him shake with you, hot bodies pressing together in a way you have missed far too much since leaving him. 

"I think this cat likes other stuff besides bells," The heaviness in your tone couldn't be ignored, a crack in your composure as you slide your hand from his head, fingers gliding over his before they come to rest back on your lap. Ears drooping from loss of contact, he pouts, eyes drift to the ground. Xavier's warm, soft hands come to rest on your thighs, sad blue eyes looking back up to your own.

"But even if I like it..." He pauses, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, sulking. "I can't forgive you for abandoning me. Not yet." Oh, how you wanted to scoop him up in your arms, kiss him until he was drunk, watch his face flush a deep pink. Your sweet boy still feeling hurt from your small trip, engraving in your mind that you will never leave him again.

You reach out, cupping his chin with all the love you have in you. His ears twitch once before standing high on his head, his big blue ragdoll eyes widen at the gentle touch. His plush tail swaying lazily behind him, showing how much he loved the attention.

"Then can you tell me what's the best way to comfort my cat?" You ask, voice silky and warm. Thumb sliding up, pushing his top lip so you can see his beloved canine teeth, a shocked gasp leaving his open mouth. Your kitty never being one to show aggression, but you wouldn't have minded a bite or two to ease his satisfaction.

"Not like this," He whispers, head falling as he mopes. Eyes laying back to the ground again as his ears fall, tail drooping behind him on the soft, lush grass, his face moving just out of touch.

You reach out again, fingers scratching under his chin. Nails grazing his skin, his eyes flutter closed at the comforting gesture, something he is all too familiar with. Soft swishing of his tail swaying faster in the grass as he leans into your touch for just a moment.

"Mmm, it's nice..." Xavier hums, almost appraising what you have to offer. "But this isn't what I'm looking for." More confidence leaks out of your usual soft-spoken kitty. He quickly grasps your hand, pulling it off of his chin, pressing your fingers to the base of his throat.

"You're good at dealing with your kitty," He rises from his sunken position, up onto his knees. Your lover's hand slowly guides yours to his clothed chest. "You don't need any hints, right?" Under your touch you could feel his heartbeat as you pass, quick and pounding in his chest. His breath quickening as you stop right between his ribs, clothed flesh brushing against your open hand as he heaves. You know what he wants, you can sense it in every way, from his voice to his touch, to the way his eyes land on you. But he also knows better, to use his words like a good kitty, ask you directly for what he wants - he knows you would always give in. So, since he refuses to speak, you scratch his chest, a low purr vibrating in his throat as your nails rake over him. He pants out, head lulling forward for just a moment before you look up at him. Face blazed in pink blush, blue eyes half lidded and glossy - so fucking needy.

"I guess you know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring, huh?" Xavier stands, using the tree beside both of you to steady himself as his large frame looms over you, He continues to trace your hand down his body, stopping at the waist of his pants, just your fingertips making contact now. You look up at his breathtaking face, his thin eyebrows knitting together in frustration, a famous pout on his kissable lips. He lifts his chin, cocking his head to the side as he waits, expectantly. "Why not try here?" He wastes no time placing your hand on the crotch of his pants, an obvious bulge in your hand as you cup it. 

"Xavier," Your brows knitting together as you try your best to sound stern. His ears falter for just a moment, his big ragdoll eyes widening in worry of being punished. "We talked about you using your words. Tell me." You coo, thumbing over his erection. He takes a moment, shivering under your touch as he lets out a shaky breath. 

"Please..." He begs, fingers tightening around your wrist, urging you to touch him. "Please love me..." His words coming out in an almost a cry, every emotion from the past weekend crashing through him as he pours his heart out to you in those simple three words. And how could you possibly resist, from the way he spoke to the sad look on his perfect face. You let your free hand slip up under his cotton shirt, fingers dusting over his abs as your other hand curled under the waist band of his sweatpants. He helps you tug them down, a painfully large bulge emerging face to face with you as it tents his boxers. Always needy, always for you. 

You take a moment to admire him, something you had been denied all weekend but wanted more than life itself. Eyes trailing from the milky skin of his exposed stomach to the tuft of dark blond hair that trailed under the band of his boxers. If he hadn't needed your touch so urgently, you would've taken the time to run your fingers down it, placing lazy kisses from his navel to his pelvis on the slow mornings you usually shared. But from his hot flesh under your skin you could feel that there was no time, that you two had so much to say that didn't involve words. Curling your fingers under the waistband of his boxers you hear him suck in a breath. No matter how many times the two of you made love, every single gesture from you stole his breath away, just like how one look from him could do the same to you. 

"Please..." His voice almost inaudible now, bottom lip quivering as you look up at him. You don't waste time, pulling down his boxers and setting him free, springing to life in front of your face.

"Oh, my sweet star," You coo, watching him twitch under your gaze, the pink tip leaking. With a whimper, he guided your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his already pulsing cock, soft bush of groomed hair tickling your flesh. Xavier lets out a gasp, a deep rumble of a purr humming in his chest as his eyes flutter shut from the contact. Here he was, your sweet kitty, right in front of you trembling under your touch. God how you have missed this, you didn't know how only three days would drive you mad without him by your side. But here he was, huffing as you slowly slide your hand from base to tip as his hold on you loosens. 

You swipe your thumb over his sensitive tip, watching the shiver ripple over him, whimpering as his eyes squeeze even more closed. The juices helping you slip your hand back down with ease, slick enough for you to pick up pace and not need to worry about too much friction. The soft schlick every time you passed over his head making your thighs tremble, already so spent for you. It made you wonder how much it took to control himself while you were away, seeing the frustration on his face every time Jeremiah came to the door instead of you. 

Xavier dragged his hand up your arm, fingers dusting your skin as they came to rest on your bicep, feeling your flexing muscle as you work him. The rumbling of his purring a steady hum surrounding you, broken up with small moans floating from his slacked jaw. You take the opportunity to delicately run your nails down the contours of his abs, drawing a lovely hiss from him that swarmed around your brain. His fingers tightening around your bicep for just a moment, a warning, before loosening once more. You see the faint red marks bloom on his pale skin, the way it moves with every heavy breath that graces his lungs. His cock jumping in your hand, telling you that he needed more, that he needed to cum just for you. Leaning in you place a kiss to your markings, lips barely touching before he cries out, hips thrusting into your hand, face bumping into his stomach. 

You hum against him, the vibrations coaxing another whimper from him as his hand clasps on your wrist again, holding it still as he fucks himself into it. The growing slick in your palm only showing how close he was to release, not like the vein throbbing at a steady pace couldn't give him away. Xavier chokes out another cry above you, hips stuttering before they stop completely.

"M-more," Eyes opening as he begs you. You don't have the option to ask what more he needs, his hand lifts from your wrist as he pulls you to your feet, not letting you catch your balance before he crashes his lips onto you. The hunger, want, and longing that has been festering inside of him explodes on your senses as his lips fight against yours, sloppy and out of rhythm. He pushes you a few steps back, against the tree that shaded you from the sun hanging above. The feeling of the rough bark against your back, and his attack on your no doubt swollen lips only made every small sensation heighten. His soft, fuzzy tail swishing, brushing your ankle, the slight breeze kissing your heated skin. His hands running down your body, gripping you by your hips before grinding himself onto you. It all felt so much but yet not enough at the same time. 

"I need you, Xavier," You breathe out as you break the kiss, huffing, your breath fanning over his face. Not wasting any time, he pulls the hem of your dress up and pushes your panties to the side, his lips latching onto anything it can find in a rushed sense of need - finding your neck. He hums against you as his long fingers swipe up your slit, finding how wet warm you were, your body telling him how needy you were for him in return. Eyes widening as you gasp out, hands clutching onto his shoulders as one of his fingers eases its way inside - pumping once, twice, before a second is added.

"Mmm, missed you so much..." The confession tugging at your heart, his delicate voice a harsh contrast compared to what his body was doing to you. A moan bubbling from your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling to your sensitive spot deep inside made you clutch onto him more.

Xavier pulled his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering and clenching around air. The empty feeling inside of you didn't last long, his still leaking cock slipped through your folds and into you, making your brain buzz from how full you felt. Xavier had always been big, filling you to the brim and hitting all of the best spots inside, but something felt different this time. Maybe because how close he had been before pulling you away, or maybe it's the passion that bound you two together, but the feeling of him inside of you, twitching against your walls, only made you want him more. 

"Feel so good, Xavi," You praise, feeling his ear twitch against your cheek like a passing kiss. His long tail curled around your ankle, lifting your leg to tell you silently to move. You oblige, hooking it over his hip, sending his cock that much deeper inside you, making you toss your head back against the rough tree. He purrs, deep and rumbling, feeling it through his back as you hook your arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to be as close to him as possible.

Hips pulling back for just a moment, almost entirely out of you, then he snapped them back. Breathy moans fill your ears as he thrusts again, hot kisses trailing from your throat, up your neck, dancing over your cheek, and crashing back onto yours - spit wetting your skin in its wake. You allow him, swallowing his moans in your mouth, tongue lapping at his own, fingers threading through his feather soft locks. Nothing but love and longing shared between you, every touch pushing each other towards that delicious edge as he continued his fervent thrusts into you, soaking your thighs and his with your love. 

The passion almost became too much for him as his hands gripped you tighter, desperate to confirm you were here with him again, that you were dancing this same old dance you have done hundreds of times before. He needed you, even now he needed more of you until you were the only thing that consumed him, the passion burning on his fingertips as he traced them up your bare thighs, over your panty clad hips, and onto your waist. He pushed you back towards the tree, the bark scratching at your bare ass cheeks but you didn't care, the only thing in the world that mattered held you there. 

"Wanna cum in you," Lips brushing yours as he barely pulled back enough to speak, breath mingling with yours as you both pant for air. Who were you to deny your kitty that? The tight coil wound so much in your stomach you almost released at that, imagining being filled with his seed, and eventually with a swollen stomach from his litter.

"Mmm, want to put your babies in me, Kitty?" You tease, barely, not having enough in you to lighten your tone. His hips snap, cock pushing against that mouthwatering spot inside of you, making you arch your back and moan into his open mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Xavier purrs louder, hair and ears brushing against you as you feel him nodding fast.

"Please," Voice high and whiny as his hips begin to grow sloppy, his movements stuttering for a moment before he continues. "Please let me fill you, darling. Please!" He cries, burying his face into your neck once more, damp forehead against your sweaty shoulder. Your fingers tug softly at his roots, so fucking close to that edge you could see off of it, one small step and you would be flying through the air.

"Fuck..." Moaning, you arch your back off of the tree once more. "Cum in me Xavier, give it to me!" You cry, the last of your self control leaving as you shake around him, sex pulsing on his cock as you release. 

His isn't far behind, you feel him twitch as the first rope coats your walls, a mewl muffled against your skin as his body shudders. Xavier empties himself entirely in you, seed dripping from your cunt as his cock softens inside, making a mess of both your legs and panties. Chests bumping together with every breath as you two attempt to control your rapid, speeding hearts. His hands never leave you, only softening his hold to a gentle caress, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your silky skin.

Xavier is the first to speak, saying your name so quietly you almost didn't hear him over the roar of your heart in your ears.

"Yes, my sweet boy?" Breathy, but calming, you brush your fingers through his hair, not forgetting to give a soft scratch behind his ear, rewarding your good boy.

"Please don't leave me again," You could almost cry at how helpless he sounds, how much this hurt him. With gentle hands, you cup his hot cheeks, pulling his face in front of yours so you can meet the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Glossy and wide, so beautiful yet fucked out at the same time. Placing a soft kiss to the tip of his pink nose, you smile, the corners of your lips pulling up.

"I'll never leave you again, my love." You promise, and mean it. Nothing should tear you apart again, he was so much more than your cat boy, he was your lover, your partner for life and you wanted nothing more than to have this man by your side forever. His features soften, the swishing tail behind him brushing at your still raised leg.

"I love you," He breathes, almost relieved at your words. A chuckle bubbling from your chest as you lay your damp forehead against his.

"And I love you, my kitty."

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman (sorry for the ramble in advance),

Hope you're doing well. I don't usually use tumblr, but every time I open it up you're here so I figure I'd drop a note. I'm a writer, but I've always had a really hard time actually WRITING instead of just thinking about it. I've had this world and its characters plaguing my head for years now, and it's only gotten worse with age, so recently I doubled down and decided it was gonna get done—one way or the other.

I recently read a passage in a book about writing that said, in essence, your first book doesn't really matter all that much if you plan to be an author. As an autistic lad, I (naturally) took this very literally and was upset at the thought. Sure, your first work is probably going to be your weakest—duh, because by the time book two rolls around you'll have had time to have faced any criticisms from your first, you'll have learned more as you write, and about the world too. But for your first book to not matter at all, no matter how passionate you are about it—I found myself wondering, "Well, what's the point at all, then?" You put in all that work, you learn plot devices, you breathe life into your characters and watch 'em toddle around, and for what? For it to just be a stepping stone? It felt intensely personal of it just being cast aside like that, and I haven't even written the damn thing yet!

MasterClass had a Father's Day sale, so I figured "why not" and went ahead and got a subscription. First thing I did was run to your class, and although I've only watched the first two parts—I want to thank you for restoring my motivation. Truth is, I think the reason that message in the writing book upset me so much is because I'm terrified of writing this damn book. I've woven so many pieces of myself into it, despite it very much being, in your words, a lie (and about a boy that lies all the time, no less), but the grief that I feel and all the complicated feelings about forgiveness are all there and very real, despite its fantastical elements. So much of it really IS more than I'm comfortable sharing with people, and the idea of baring all that out and being told it didn't matter at all? Absolutely devastating. At the end of the line? The book might actually suck. I might rewrite it, I might trash it, I might completely forget about it ten years from now, or I might sell ten copies on Amazon to family and friends and then move on with my life. It's not stepping on a yellow jacket nest in the woods, but it's still terrifying. I still can't even fathom the idea of letting anyone actually read it until I've obsessed over it for another four years, and even then! But I'll write it anyways.

Thank you.

You are so welcome!

[hamliet]

Excited for your thoughts on the bnha ending

Also I’ll be honest I dropped this like 200 chs ago and I’ve just kept up through your metas because I was so disillusioned with the manga 🥲 I even sold my copies

it's a bit bittersweet to see bnha handled this way. sometimes i think we'll get a promising continuation from the author which is major cope for me T.T

fix its are otw but damn it doesn't mend that it ended this way rn

Diff asks, answering together.

Not saying too much because there's not much to be said besides that a friend who wrote a meta who won't post it (to all our detriment!) said it best last week: this story is cowardly. It's afraid to say or do anything because it wants to make everyone happy and realized it can't, so now it just wants to make no one upset, but everyone's upset.

I feel sad for Horikoshi. His recent interviews are quite depressing, and he seems burned out and done with his own manga in a way that makes Gege look enthusiastic about JJK.

Like, he doesn't confirm Touya dead or alive--which frankly I will take--but leaves it up to the reader to decide. Is the doctor's word final, or is Touya crying a symbol of healing since he previously couldn't? I know which one I choose to believe, but this way people can choose to fit the manga into their personal beliefs. He's trying to say nothing to avoid rocking the boat. And that's just sad, especially when we consider what likely contributed to that.

Which is to say, on a purely story level, the story has no power. There's being open to other perspectives and then there's not having a message. This is sadly the latter. It's a mess. Deku "heroes save" doesn't save, but he's still heroic, but that line isn't demolished or destroyed. AFO may be dead, but he won in the end because what he used to taunt Deku came true. Deku's character is nothing more than a vehicle--no struggle, no emotional climax, no principles. The ships are not even confirmed because the story can't even commit to the obvious Ochaco/Deku (which I dislike even!) for fear of angering other loud shippers. Society is the problem, but also the answer. The hero system is the problem, but also the answer. It's not a paradox because it doesn't explain the layers at play here. It's just noodles that have cooked far too long and turned into a congealed mess.

The only message I can take from it is "yay authoritarianism" which I'm going to hope Horikoshi is saying accidentally (and most likely is). It's as meaningless as GoT season 8, and TROS, and that's not good company to be in.

[hughesyodaddy43]

Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms. 

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too. 

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend. 

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock�� for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling. 

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact  listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring 

Ring 

Ring 

Your breath hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows. 

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy 

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber 

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY  COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds. 

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time 

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!” Mark chimes

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

 The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing. 

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that  Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys 

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

 “ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food. 

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder 

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan. 

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace 

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds 

“PROBABLY??” you cry 

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly 

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

X

X

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan. 

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by  Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly 

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv 

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds 

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You then return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone. 

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks 

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room. 

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders 

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark 

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink 

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face 

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great” 

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

X

X

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings. 

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde 

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask 

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class 

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen. 

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you. 

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face 

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?” 

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach 

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural 

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just  to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms 

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you grumble, earning a snicker from luke 

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees 

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early” 

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?” 

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43  messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs 

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation 

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up 

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear 

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck 

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips 

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?” 

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door 

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke 

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a  gentle hand on your wrist 

“Wait, I  gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by  patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression 

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

[itsjaywalkers]

a little silly jegulus for my darling @veryinnovative !! happy birthday ino MWAH <333 (very very light nsfw)

"What the fuck did I just walk into?"

Regulus doesn't even bother to look up from where he's sitting on the floor, head between his knees as he waits for God—or whoever is up there, really, he isn't fussed—to fucking smite him. He does, however, let out a pitiful sound, both in acknowledgement and as a response. It doesn't explain much, he's aware of that, but Barty knows him enough at this point. He doesn't require anything else from him.

"Yeah, I can see you're having a bit of a breakdown," Barty huffs out, and Regulus hears his steps, light and careful, getting closer to him. "What brought it on this time, though? I literally just went to the corner shop to grab some Redbulls. It's been 15 minutes since I left and you were fine."

Regulus makes another pathetic noise, still refusing to raise his head. This one is a bit more petulant, because Barty has a talent for bringing out his pettiest side, even when he's experiencing unknown levels of distress.

"Babe, I'm gonna need you to give me something else," Barty insists, before sighing heavily. His walking comes to a halt, and Regulus doesn't need to check to know he's standing right in front of him.

He groans, but decides to be merciful, despite being aware that Barty knowing about what's upsetting him this much won't do him any favours. Barty can be a surprisingly supportive friend when it matters, but he's insufferable when he's right.

Regulus lifts his arm and points to his left, hoping he's being accurate enough, considering he isn't even looking. He keeps the position for a couple of seconds before dropping the arm back down, going back to hugging his legs tightly.

Barty begins moving once again, but stops after taking a few steps. "And what the fuck does that mean?" Barty exclaims, and Regulus can picture him throwing his hands up in the air. It almost drags a smile out of him. "You pointed at the couch. Am I supposed to believe our couch attacked you?"

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, but doesn't deign that with a response.

"Because even if it did, Reg, I'm sorry to say you're gonna have get over yourself and your cute little breakdown. That couch cost us a fortune, and it's where Rosie first kissed me, so I refuse to—"

A sudden buzz interrupts Barty's train of thought. It makes Regulus' blood go cold, and he attempts to bury his face even deeper between his legs, a pained moan escaping his mouth as his face burns.

"What was that?" Barty mumbles, pacing around their living room. "Was it your phone? Why don't you have your phone on you?"

Regulus lets out a grumble, burrowing himself tighter in his own embrace while he listens to his best friend search for the origin of the sound.

It buzzes again, and Regulus is this close to grab the stupid device and throw it out the window, when Barty clicks his tongue, some ruffling following the noise.

"There it is," he says quietly. "Why the hell did you bury it under all the cushions? I know you're not a big fan of it, but this is simply—"

Realisation dawns on Regulus way too late, and by the time he snaps his head up, clumsily trying to get back on his feet as fast as possible but only ending up on his knees, Barty already has his phone in his hands. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, and he seems to be reading Regulus' notifications.

He's never regretted giving him his password as much as this instant.

"Barty, that's not—" Regulus starts, strained.

"Oh my fucking god," Barty murmurs, gaze fixated on the screen of the phone. He's not even blinking, and the stupid thing buzzes again, lighting up with a new message.

"Shut up," Regulus says, the blush on his face worsening by the second, as if it knows what's coming.

"I told you," Barty responds, still not looking away from Regulus' phone. "I fucking told you, dude—"

"Shut up!" Regulus repeats in a hiss, pushing himself up a little shakily but managing to regain his balance, not even hesitating before beginning to make his way towards his friend. "Give me my phone back!"

"No way," Barty snorts, dodging Regulus at the very last second, barely avoiding getting tackled into the couch. "This is too good, Reg, I can't believe you fucked up this badly. I would've killed myself if I were you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Regulus snarls, cheeks aflame while he follows Barty around their apartment, attempting to get his phone back. "As if you're not completely shameless—"

"At least I've never been caught screenshotting my crush's thirst traps—"

"He's not my crush! I literally cannot stand him!"

Barty barks out a laugh, and it makes him falter enough for Regulus to get ahold of the hem of his shirt. However, his grasp is too loose, and Barty breaks away from it before Regulus can tighten it and finally take back what's rightfully his.

"Tell that to the dozen screenshots of his shirtless pics you have in your gallery."

Regulus makes an outraged sound, doubling his efforts, the heat in his face becoming almost unbearable as he chases his annoying best friend.

"That's an invasion of privacy!" he yells, grabbing one of the cushions and throwing it at Barty's head. He hits him right on the face, and it makes him feel considerably better, especially when Barty gives him his most deadpan expression. "Why are you in my gallery?"

"Well, Reg, after reading Potter's texts I got curious. I thought 'it can't be that bad, Reg is subtler than this' but it definitely can be that bad—"

"Stop! You're making such a big deal out of it, there's barely any—"

"Reg, babe, you have a folder just dedicated to James Potter's snapchats."

"It's for better organisation—"

"You must've been blowing his phone up with all those screenshots. Honestly, I don't understand how he hansn't blocked your creepy ass yet—"

"I know you aren't lecturing me about being creepy. You just aren't. Or do I have to remind you the kind of shit you pulled back when Evan wasn't giving you the time of day—"

"The joke's on you, idiot, Rosie is very much into my creepy shit," Barty retorts, stopping for a second just so he can put his hands on his hips and stare down at Regulus. "Although, I suppose Potter must like your freak behaviour too, considering how desperate he seems to be about getting you to reply. Not like I'm surprised, it's gotta be a boost to his massive ego—"

"Stop. Stop. Stop fucking talking—" Regulus lunges at him once more, but Barty is prepared every fucking time, avoiding him without breaking a sweat. "This is all your fault!"

Barty gapes at him. "How is this my fault? I warned you, dude! I told you people get notifications when you screenshot their stories—"

"Well, you didn't warn me hard enough!" Regulus schreeches, burying his hands inside his curls and pulling frantically. He feels like he's a breeze way from losing his shit. "James followed me back out of fucking nowhere, even though I was on my secret account, and then he began texting me all these things. Teasing me, making fun of me, always so fucking full of himself. And as if that weren't bad enough, then my brother also texted me just to sent me a voice note of himself laughing his ass off for two minutes—"

"I don't blame him," Barty snorts with a shake of his head. "Doesn't he live with Potter?"

"Yes. Yes, he does," Regulus mumbles, nearly hysterical. "And I really didn't need the reminder—"

"Sorry, sorry." Barty doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "Listen, it might not be as bad as you think. Potter will get tired of you ignoring him soon, and then he'll give up and drop it, and this will just become an anecdote that we'll all laugh about in a couple of months. I mean, I'm already laughing."

Regulus stops trying to tear his hair out for a moment, narrowed eyes focusing on his best friend as he squirms in his place, shifting the weight from one foot to another. "You think so?"

"I know so," Barty assures him, and his confidence is somehow relieving, even though Regulus knows better than to trust anything that comes out of his big mouth. "You can finish having you breakdown, if you want, but you have nothing to—"

Another buzz cuts Barty off. The noise makes Regulus tense up almost unconsciously, because after today, he doesn't think he'll be able to listen to the bloody sound without having a heart attack. His shoulders relax slightly a second later, before going stiff once more when the buzzing doesn't stop.

"Oh," Barty whispers, eloquently. "Someone's calling."

"Don't—"

"Potter is calling."

"Fuck," Regulus says, with feeling. "Fuck."

"Yeaaaah," Barty drawls, gaze jumping from the vibrating phone in his hand to Regulus' panicked face. He's wearing that irritating shit-eating grin of his. "Forget what I said. I was lying anyway. You're fucked, dude."

"Shut your fucking mouth and hang up," Regulus snaps, heart beating so violently he can feel it in his fucking throat.

Barty tilts his head to the side, considering. Regulus gives him a warning look, getting mildly sick at the way in which Barty's smirk only appears to spread even wider. "Where's the fun in that, though?"

Regulus feels himself go pale, bile climbing up his throat. He swallows it back down with some struggle, his insides burning.

"You wouldn't," he mumbles, his phone still ringing.

"Wouldn't I?" Barty questions, arching in an eyebrow.

"Barty—"

His best friend is picking up the phone even before Regulus has finished uttering his name. Barty presses the device next to his ear a second later, and there's an almost manic quality to his grin.

"Hey, Potter," he greets, voice filled with glee. Regulus almost screams. "Yeah, yeah, he's here, why?"

Regulus shakes his head furiously, hands moving widely and forming cross after cross, despite Barty ignoring every single one of his signs. His best friend starts walking towards him, and Regulus retreats hastily until his back meets the wall.

"Oh, you wanna speak to him?" Barty is saying into the phone, gaze never leaving Regulus. "And it's urgent? Hm."

Please, Regulus says inaudibly, the perfect picture of desperation.

There's a pause, and for a brief moment, Regulus thinks Barty is about to take pity on him. Put an end to the joke before it ruins what's left of Regulus' dignity.

But Barty is Barty, and considering he seems to feed on Regulus' misery, he ends up smiling big, showing all of his teeth, before he gives James another affirmative reply and then he's handing the phone to Regulus.

He's convinced that Barty has never spoken this politely to James, but Regulus supposes that Barty is more than willing to put his hatred aside when the goal is to take the piss out of him.

Regulus clutches the phone and slowly, his hand shaking, he presses it to his ear. He doesn't say anything, but he lets out a shuddery exhale.

"Regulus?" James murmurs at the other side of the line, and the sound of his voice is nearly enough for him to drop the phone.

"Yeah?" he responds after a beat, the word coming out surprisingly calm.

"Finally done ignoring me?" James questions, and Regulus closes his eyes tight, turning away from Barty's figure. If he has to keep staring at him poorly repressing his laughter, he'll end up murdering him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus sniffs.

"Oh, don't you?" James chuckles, amused, and Regulus hates the havoc that that mere noise wrecks inside his guts. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, love. I'm very flattered, you know?"

"I bet you are," Regulus bites back, glaring at nowhere in particular. "It really isn't what you think—"

"No? You haven't been taking screenshots of all my shirtless pics?"

"Not all of them were shirtless pics," Regulus complains weakly.

James laughs again, louder this time, and it fill his chest with warmth. "True. I think there was a couple of selfies, too."

"And that one pic with your little cousin," Regulus adds, because he hates himself, apparently.

Barty's cackles turn unbearable, and Regulus' fingers twitch around his phone. He's making a run for his room a second later, slamming the door right behind him, even though the walls are so thin he can still hear the faint sound of his best friend's laughter.

"Ah, yes," James hums, seemingly deep in thought. "That one threw me off a little."

"How so?"

"You see, I assumed you were just collecting wanking material—"

"James!" Regulus hisses through gritted teeth, so ridiculously flustered he feels mildy dizzy. "Don't be disgusting!"

"Nothing wrong with that," James rushes to say, and Regulus hates how sincere he sounds. How pleased.

"Really? You wouldn't find it weird? Knowing that I—that someone has masturbated to your pictures?"

"Well, have you?"

"You wish."

"I do," James retorts without missing a beat, always so shameless. "It'd make me feel better about all the times I've jerked off to the thought of you."

Regulus sits down on the edge of his bed, knees failing him and ears ringing. He swears he can feel his soul leaving his body.

"What?" he says, voice embarrasingly high-pitched.

"What?" James repeats it with a laugh, as if this is all very amusing to him. "Say, love, what are you wearing right now?"

Regulus pulls his phone away from his ear momentarily, blinking at the screen. The call is real, and still ongoing, even though Regulus is certain he must be imagining this whole conversation, because there's simply no way.

"No," he retorts robotically as soon as the phone is back against his ear.

"No?" James inquires, some hesitance slipping into his tone.

"We're not doing this," Regulus insists.

"And what's 'this', hmm?"

"You know what! I don't know what game you're playing, Potter, but I want no part in it."

"There's no game, love. I mean this."

"No, you don't."

"No offence, Reg, but I think I know what I want better than you do."

Regulus laughs, but it's nervous, and shaky, and forced. "And what do you want?" he asks, trying his best to sound as mocking as possible. Regulus isn't sure he does a good job. "Me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I want you so bad it's actually driving me insane."

Regulus lets out a choked off noise, and the urge to throw his phone against the wall is so strong he has no idea of how he manages to supress it.

There's a moment of silence, and then, "Regulus," James calls him again, and he straightens up as a reflex. "What are you wearing right now?"

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, pressing his thighs together. "Just some shorts and one of Barty's shirts."

There's a sharp inhale of breath.

"I hate that," James grumbles, and Regulus can feel himself frown.

"Well, I'm sorry it's not anything sexy, but I wasn't expecting—"

"No, no, it's not that, love, you look gorgeous in everything."

Regulus puts the back of his hand over his mouth, despite the fact that there's no one to see his smile.

"Then?" he questions.

"I just—you're wearing his clothes."

"Who's? Barty's?" Regulus blinks a couple of times. "Yes, of course, he's my friend—"

"Just that? Just your friend?"

"Why, Potter? Are you jealous?"

"Reg—"

"Yeah, James," Regulus sighs, probably sounding more pleased than he should. "He's just a friend."

"Good. Good."

"You know, this talk isn't really turning me on."

James chuckles softly, and Regulus' cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling.

"Aw, man, really?" he whines, almost making Regulus laugh. "That's such a shame. I've been half-hard since we started talking."

"James!" Regulus scolds him, but it probably doesn't have the desired effect, considering his grin is basically audible.

"I'm serious!" he laughs, and Regulus shakes his head, leaning back until his back touches the bed. "It's not my fault your cock is so fussy—"

"Don't have a cock," Regulus answers without thinking.

James falls silent, and Regulus is about to take it back, laugh it off or even hang up without an explanation, but then James is speaking up again.

"A cunt, then," James says, and he sounds okay, casual, even if a little stiff. "Is that—are you comfortable with that word, or...?"

"Yeah," Regulus tells him softly, almost in a sigh. "I don't really mind that much, I just—I didn't want you to think—"

"It's completely fine, love. Really. Doesn't make any difference to me. And I know I shouldn't have assumed—"

"You're fine, James," Regulus reassures him, endlessly endeared by this ridiculous man.

"I'm glad, because I genuinely want to do this," James says quietly, like it's a secret. A confession only meant for Regulus' ears.

"And what's 'this'? Phone sex?"

"That, and a date."

Regulus stops breating. "A date?"

"A date," James affirms. "More than one, hopefully, but I'm trying not to push my luck."

"Aren't you doing this a bit backwards? Considering you're already attempting to get in my pants."

"Maybe. But I'm very impatient, and I've been waiting for this a while, love."

Regulus goes silent, pretending to think it over. James' tension is palpable even through the phone, and he delights a little in making him squirm for once.

"Okay," he ends up saying, hoping his enthusiasm isn't too obvious.

"Okay?" James repeats dumbly.

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you."

"Shit, really?" James sounds so excited it drags a giggle out of Regulus. "That's—fucking amazing, we're gonna have so much fun, Reg—"

"And about that phone sex," he goes on, casting a glance at his closed door, "you can call me again tonight, and then we'll see.

James' breath hitches on the other side of the line, and Regulus presses his legs even closer together. He hasn't felt this giddy in quite a long time.

Horny, too, but he thinks the wait will be more than worth it.

"Yeah?" James exhales.

"Yeah."

Regulus is already counting down the minutes.

[pseudophan]

did you not like wad? whenever i see you mention it i detect a hint of eyeroll

i like the show itself but something about that whole time period.... idk i'm bitter about it lmao i defended dan a lot as it was going on but now that we're back in the good days i'm like god that was all SO annoying actually. i totally understand him wanting to do his own thing for awhile and i don't hold any of that against him but it was like, the way they just ended Dan And Phil on the day out of nowhere and then i'm meant to give a fuck about dan's solo projects like no fuck you you don't get to just leave with zero warning and ghost all your fans but still expect them to care about your projects. except he does technically get to do that and i did care about his projects and again like i getttt it i just think if he'd given us like idk, a month's warning maybe, at least, the whooole thing would feel different. alas he did not. so wad and dystopia daily and the book and all of that are projects i consider objectively pretty good but i can't ever wholeheartedly genuinely enjoy any of it the way i wish i could cause it just makes me really sad and kinda pissed off

none of this matters anymore though, water under the bridge, that's kinda what this entire tour is about and if they're willing to let our past transgressions go then i'm willing to let that go. also it's evident dan does feel really bad about it dhcjshxjd that's the thing about parasocial relationships like does he actually owe us anything at all? nah. but at the same time, profiting off of your audience being so emotionally attached to you does make it a bit of a dick move to suddenly just vanish into nothing and he clearly agrees with that like i'm not gonna spoil any specifics of the tour for those who haven't seen it but it's very much a message of "we forgive you for x and hope you can forgive us for y and lets all move forward into this new era without resentment" and idk i really appreciated that

but yeah as much as i'm not actually upset with dan anymore i do still get kinda bitchy about that era lmao idk if i have it in me to fully get over it. it obviously also doesn't help that it coincided with when my own life kinda stopped like there i was back in my childhood bedroom in a town i hate with no friends and no job and nothing to do and even fuckass danisnotonfire had decided he didn't want anything to do with me anymore??? like damn okay fuck my life i guess

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Comfort Headcanons And Scenarios Of Cod Men With Your Kid

Basically CoD characters comforting your kid. (Single parent Reader)

Synopsis: He has a romantic relationship/connection with you (Singleparent!Reader) and he comforts your little one, making you further realize how much he loves and cares about you and your little one.

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra.

Taglist: @puff0o0 @wishesforyou @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies

This is short but I'm back lovelies! This was originally posted on January 7 however I posted it too early :)) AND YES I KNOW I'VE USED THE PIC IN THE MIDDLE SO MANY TIMES NOW, CAN'T HELP IT IT'S TOO DAD!COD CODED.

That 1k special really took it's time didn't it? Sorry you guys, it needs to cook a little more. I do want to thank you all for how far I've made it despite going through a lot. The messages I've been receiving regarding puff definitely have not gone unappreciated and I hope things take a good turn from here. @blingblong55 has been craving some Dad!Ghost content and even though this doesn't really count for now, this should at least be like a little snack for y'all and her.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

❥ Simon never really considered himself a family man, but damn did that all change when you and your little one made your way into his lives and worm yourselves in his heart.

❥ Whether Simon likes it or not, it breaks him to see your child upset. It could be something small like they're craving a certain kind of food or a scratch on their knees from taking off the training wheels on their bike but Simon was always and I mean always there.

❥ So much so that your little one started calling him something that you didn't even know about till later. Overhearing them as Simon took the initiative to feed her while you finished off some chores. You put the mop down only to hear them talking, you peek into your kitchen..

"Daddy!" Your eyes widened as you heard your little one squeal.

Simon tried his best to deny and dodge your kid calling him their dad, trying to correct them and pass it off as a mistake.

It was taken as an offense and their lips started quivering, their cheeks becoming even more chubby as their lips steadied to a pout. Simon sighed in defeat, patting their little back, trying his best to take back what he said.

Only to have them squeal then call him "dada", "daddy", and "dad" repeatedly while they squish Simon's face between their little hands.

"I love you, dada" It was almost inaudible with how butchered it was but you and Simon knew your little one the most, it was easier for both of you to know what they're trying to communicate even with the words and letters they had difficulty pronouncing.

You saw how Simon teared up, he refuses to cry but no matter what he did, his body was saying otherwise.

He couldn't help himself, he held the little one closer to his chest seemingly hugging them tighter. He kissed the top of their head over and over having his eyes closed, you could've sworn you heard a sniffle if it wasn't for the giggle of your child.

Little thing has him wrapped around their little chubby fingers.

John Price

❥ John was always protective of those put in his care, that being said, when you walked into his life with the little munchkin trailing behind, he became far more of a father figure than he was before.

❥ The more he interacted with the both of you, the more he toyed on the possibility of being with you, being there for them. Something he never thought of having due to risk, a family to call his own.

❥ The aggressive pats on his men = tight hugs from him to your little one after they said they missed him. It wasn't really a surprise to you when your kid starting confiding more to John, being more attach to the man as another parental figure.

John decided for the first time ever to take your kid with him to work, though sure it was just a short visit due to him wanting to finish up something however your child seem to think otherwise.

It was intimidating, huge ceilings, long hallways dreaded to be in no color. Overstimulated to say the least, it was difficult being in a new environment for your child.

Especially all the new people they get to see, "I don't like it here.. it's dark and scary.." It wasn't really dark however it was quite dim. John took initiative and picked them up in his arms, telling them short stories of what they used to do on base.

Slowly, they came to the realization that they were safe there and no one would harm them. Being a shy kid now open to meet their dad's co-workers and second family. (Might as well be their brothers)

John "Soap" MacTavish

❥ Honoring everyone's headcanon of Johnny having a big family, I'd like to think he does, few brothers and sisters and a ton of cousins.

❥ Surely Johnny knows his way around kids, though not liking those ones in family gatherings as much.

❥ Meeting you, Johnny was a little too ecstatic finding out you have a little one of your own. More often the two spent a ridiculous amount of time together, he was living for it, one of his ways to show his love your you and your kid.

Johnny held the bike up, guiding to help your kid as they've been asking him over and over again to teach them ride a bike without training wheels.

After a while he lets go of the bike and it manages to go smoothly until they got distracted and hit a nearby tree. Johnny quickly rushed to them hoping they weren't hurt too bad, he was met with a teary eyed child covering their knee.

"It's alright, it's a wee wound. Nothing on my big strong kiddo right?" To Johnny's surprise, it worked. They wiped their tears away, putting their arms in the air, signaling Johnny to carry them.

You got them patched up in a bandaid and a kiss on their knee from you then back it was spending time with Johnny instead indoors this time around. (Little thing made Johnny kiss the boo-boo too, how could he deny such a sweet request <3)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

❥ We've established this before but Kyle is extremely good with kids without even trying, so having this man in your life makes it feel like it's easy most times.

❥ Even if Kyle didn't come from a big family or have any experience with children except for the ones he rescued a while back, he's a natural. Giving the kid space to explore their little curiosities if it's safe enough.

❥ Seeing your child having a panic attack was a lot harder for him than it was back when he had to comfort kids he rescued from being hostages..

Kyle woke up to the sounds of heavy and shaky breathing, not to mention something or rather someone pulling on his clothes. He opened his eyes to find his little light teary eyed.

"Shhh, it's going to be alright.. you're safe here with me" Kyle whispered, after immediately pulling the kid to his chest for a snug embrace.

Still with the hyperventilating, the only solution Kyle found was to distract them and to help regulate their breathing back to normal, slowly turning their attention to something else.

"Thank you, dad" was whispered with a yawn. Kyle's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, before he could talk to them again, he looked at the child who was fast asleep in his arms.

Alejandro Vargas

❥ Alejandro seemed fine around kids, finds them entertaining for the most part since children were never really something he planned on having but he was open for when the opportunity presented itself.

❥ He only ever was learning along the way and was it such a pleasure to do so along with loving you, having said that he's been doing better lately.

❥ Safe to say your sick toddler was in good hands..

Soft cooing with coughs is all Alejandro heard all day, he felt bad about the little one suffering even though it was something small, it's difficult for them to even crawl or move on their own.

You found yourself not being able to comfort your baby, no matter how much you tried to, they won't stop crying.

Luckily, Alejandro was willing to lend a helping hand. He managed to calm their little temper down and rocked them to sleep.

You walked in on him cradling them to sleep, muttering and whispering Spanish to the little one, laughing quietly to himself while he admires their peaceful state.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

❥ Rudy has always wanted children, he used to watch while the children in Las Almas played together in the streets. One of the things he wished to protect about the city.

❥ Then he was given the opportunity to have that kind of family by you. It's almost like his prayers were answered, at any given moment he could lose you and your kid, whether that'd be through danger or an end to you relationship.

❥ What this sweet man wasn't aware of was that he wasn't the only one terrified of losing his family..

Rudy walked into your home hoping to find your kid somewhere in the living room, he thought it was alarming seeing that they weren't in their usual spot playing.

He was about to knock in their bedroom door when the door creaked, giving him a small peek. Soft sniffles, hiccups and hands in their eyes.

"Mija/Mijo, what's wrong?" he asked, he thought it might've been a quarrel between friends or some mean person at school.

"Are you really leaving.. forever..?" They asked, it tugged on Rudy's heart, although some part of him feels so amazing, it was an accomplishment to be cared for by his child.

"Of course not, I promise I'll come back home just for you. And when I do, we'll get to spend even more time together than we have before" The way your little one's eye's light up made Rudy forever sealed to you, he wants this, nothing more and he'll never ask for anything else.

Everything is worth the risk if it was with you if he gets to make you and them happy, anything it'll take..

Honestly, same..

[beenbaanbuun]

Bunnnnyyyy I'm having yuyu withdrawals 😭😭

I recently stumbled across the spiderman yuyu edit on Instagram again and it has me running LAPS

Like can you imagine being roommates with photography major spider!yunho, noticing his odd disappearances and late nights but never saying anything, which he appreciates because lord knows he doesn't have the capacity for it rn sinde I'd headcannon this is right after his uncle's desth when he's still in his angry grief era.

But MC would be sweet even though he's cold and kinda mean, she wouldn't be nosy or pry, always asks him to eat with her out of courtesy (which isn't a big deal for her but it kinda chips away at his heart because she's so sweet about it).

Still he maintains certain boundaries till one day he comes home all beat up and bruised, and MC patches him back up, there’s so much tension in the room when she has to peel off his shirt to check the bruises on his sides, when he softly asks why she cares about him so much, when she quietly admits that it's because she likes him-

AKSHSKSHDKSDBJSBZSJ

I'm just..... obsessed with Yunho

-lyra

so this sent me a little insane and i wrote so much more than i was expecting to 😭😭 spidey!yunho has sent me down a rabbit hole and this is what we ended up with…

——————————————————————————“can we eat together tonight?” you ask as you stir the pasta around the pot. you made two portions, as usual, in the sheer hope that he wouldn’t be going out again. “i found this recipe i thought you’d like. i figured it might help cheer you up!” you shrug as if it’s no big deal.

but it is to yunho. as he picks his backpack up from the floor, he feels his heart break just a little. it would be so much easier for him to leave the apartment every night if it wasn’t for the fact that you were such a sweetheart. the fact that you always cook for him whenever you make something for yourself is something that has been slowly chipping away at his hard exterior for months now. the way that you put it in the fridge along with a cute little note whenever he isn’t there to eat with you has almost properlybroken that exterior in two.

yunho can’t deny that half of those precious little notes are stashed in the drawer of his nightstand; he rereads them whenever his emotions get the better of him. seeing the sweet messages scrawled onto the yellow post-it-notes never fails to make him smile. your pretty little words in your pretty little handwriting… he’d be insane not to keep them.

you turn around, taking your attention away from the pot for just a moment, and spot him with his jacket on and his rucksack slung lazily over one shoulder. as your face falls, he can’t help the way his heart breaks just a little more. you probably think you’ve hidden your disappointment well, and to anyone else you might have done. it’s just a shame that yunho is the way that he is, because he sees the way your shoulders deflate and the shadow of a frown disrupts your pretty face. he can practically feel the sadness radiating from you in waves, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up slightly as your not-so-obvious upset puts him on edge.

but then you seem to remember yourself, and within seconds you’ve picked yourself back up and are offering a small smile to him. he still feels that prickling at the back of his neck, though.

although it becomes apparent pretty quickly that that sensation may be caused by his own disappointment, rather than yours. as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, he can’t deny the way that the feeling in his neck grows as he watches you pull a tupperware from the cupboard. you swap it with his dish - it was really yours, but you’d named it his because it’s red and red reminds you of him, for some reason - and he has to stifle his own frown. for some reason watching you replace the ceramic bowl with the plastic tub hits him right in the chest…

“i’ll put yours in the fridge, then,” you say as you turn back to the pasta and give it a stir, “you can grab it whenever you’re hungry; maybe when you get back tonight?”

sweetheart, his brain repeats over and over like a mantra. it rattles round his skull whilst he tries to find the words to thank you. to let you know just how much he appreciates it, even if he doesn’t always show it. and the words are right there. right on the top of his tongue…

but for some reason he can’t get them out.

“i’ll see you later,” is all he mumbles before he slips out of the doorway and dashes down the hallway to the open window that awaits him at the end.

you try not to let the way the door slams shut hurt you, but even with the strongest will in the world you wouldn’t be able to take away the ache in your chest. he’s just going through a rough patch, you try to convince yourself as you spoon his serving into the tupperware and clip the lid shut. he just needs some time alone after everything that’s happened to him, you think as you slip it into the fridge. it’ll be better soon, you pray as you pull out a pen and think about what to write on his note.

hope this pasta cheers you up, yun! if you like it, let me know and i’ll make it more often for you!!

the words make you cringe, but you slip it next to the tupperware anyway, closing the fridge with a huff. you doubt he even reads the notes anyway, so why does it matter if what you write on them is a little sickly-sweet.

with a sigh you grab your bowl and turn to the couch, ready to settle in and do nothing for the night. as usual, yunho’s portfolio stuff is everywhere, as well as the photos of that one spider-guy that he’s been collecting for his new job at the daily bugle. you hate the newspaper yourself, thinking that the conspiracy-led journalism is nothing but fear mongering nonsense, but you can’t fault yunho for working there; he’s only in it for the money, afterall. it’s just the life of a collage student to have to sell out your morals for a paycheck.

you pick it all up, organising it into somewhat-coherent piles on the coffee table before flopping down onto the ratty sofa and flicking the TV on. the volume is barely at a whisper, and you can’t help but curse yunho for having such good hearing; no doubt he feels the same when he turns the TV on to a deafening wall of sound after you’ve used it. the thought gives you a quick chuckle as you flick through the channels to find something to watch. you settle on a dumb reality show, quickly settling in for the evening so you can eat your pasta in peace.

———

hours pass before yunho returns, swinging the door open and startling you out of your TV-centred tunnel vision. you turn to him in surprise, ready to gently scold him for putting what would no doubt be another dent in the wall. that will have to come out of both of your deposits, you prepare yourself to tell him, but when you actually see him you pause.

he’s hunched up against a wall, chest rising and falling as he struggles to breathe. there’s a wheeze when he inhales, which only gets stronger when he breathes out, and the look of pain on his face that comes each and every time he respires sends you straight into panic mode. you don’t bother to turn the TV off as you stand up and rush towards him.

“fucking hell, yun,” you cry as you reach him. he winces at your shrill tone, drawing back into himself as you invade his personal space to check for injuries. the obvious one is his side, which he’s clutching in his grip like his life depends on it; you assume it’s a cracked rib, which would explain why breathing looks like it’s taking all of his effort. despite its necessity, its a notoriously painful thing to do with a broken rib.

a broken nose can make it difficult too, and as you begin to scan his face, you realise that he definitely has one of those. the way it twists to the side slightly, blood oozing from his right nostril like a faucet makes you flinch back a little, as if you’re the one that’s injured. you compose yourself quickly as you continue your search. black eye, split brow, split lip - the list goes on, but thankfully none of it seems too irreparable. with your basic knowledge of first aid, and yunho’s weirdly extensive first aid kit, you’re bound to have him fixed up in no time.

“bathroom,” you stutter out, taking a step back to give him some space. he almost misses your warmth as he watches you take a few steps towards the room that separates his bedroom from yours. he chases it, pushing himself away from the wall and stumbling after you. he doesn’t know why he wants you so close all of a sudden, but he feels like he needs it to survive. those brief few seconds he had you close somehow made him breathe a little easier. he follows you into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

silently, you gesture to the toilet and he takes a seat on the closed lid. his broad torso leans back against the tiles, and he relishes in the way that the cold seeps through his shirt and washes over his too-hot body. his head tips back against it too, and he watches you through hooded eyes as you scramble through the cabinet to find his first-aid kit.

sweetheart, his mind whispers again as you sit there on your knees in front of the cabinet, pushing rolls of toilet paper and bottles of cleaning product to the side. only you could be so adorably caring towards him after all these months of him actively pushing you away. only you would be so worried for him after he’d been trying his hardest to avoid you for months on end.

only you.

that feeling at the back of his neck comes back, only this time it’s stronger. every single hair on his body stands on end as he watches you pull the black bag from the back of the cabinet, whispering a cute little ‘a-ha’ to yourself. he smiles at that, not even bothering to hide it from you when you turn to him with the kit in hand. he doesn’t need to anymore; you’ve already seen everything else he used to hide.

which reminds him of his tattered spider-suit in his grasp. yunho holds out the red spandex for you to take from him, half expecting you to examine it and unveil all his secrets, but you don’t. you don’t even look at it as you toss the filthy fabric into the bathtub and turn the cold tap on. it’s the best for getting blood out, afterall. with little more thought about the piece of fabric, you turn back to yunho and unzip the black bag.

“unbutton your shirt,” you mutter as you pull out some wipes, a tube of antiseptic cream, and a large square bandage. you have no idea if his side is actually bleeding or not, but it’s best to be prepared, right? you look back at him with the materials in hand, only to see him staring back at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“what?” you grumble, taking notice of the fact that he hasn’t moved an inch. his hand was still clutched over his side and his shirt was still messily buttoned up. you sigh and move towards him, thinking nothing of it when you drop to your knees between his thighs and begin to unbutton the white fabric. his breath hitches as your fingers brush against his chest, but you pay him no mind, “yunho, move your arm - i need to get your shirt off.”

he doesn’t, remaining still as ever as you undo the last button that you can. you sit back on your haunches and watch him from where you sit between his spread legs.

“yun, come on,” you whine, and he closes his eyes at the sound. so beautiful; if only he wasn’t in pain so he could enjoy it more, “i need to undo the rest of your buttons and i can’t when you’re not letting me!”

you lay a hand on his wrist in a pleading gesture, asking wordlessly to let you take care of him. he listens this time and loosens his grip on his ribs. you pull his hand away, sucking in a breath as you catch sight of the red stain that his hand was previously covering. it’s not huge, but it still needs seeing to, so you go back to unbuttoning his shirt.

yunho tries not to think too hard as your hand brushes over his crotch when you undo the last two, just like when you eventually finish and push the sides of his shirt open to reveal his bare chest. it’s covered with bruises, and he bites his lip to suppress a groan as your delicate fingers dance softly across his damaged skin. he finds himself wishing the circumstances were different, and that you sitting between his legs, touching his chest could be so much more than you just worrying about him. as he watches you pick up the antiseptic wipes again, he’s reminded that that’s all it is; you being worried.

but that too confuses him. after all this time of him being a downright dick to you, you’re still so gentle with him. he’s abrupt and rude, and yet you still smile and say hello whenever you see him. he’s never around to eat with you, and yet you never fail to make him a meal every time you cook. he’s kept so much from you, and yet here you are, taking care of him like none of that ever mattered. like you can somehow see the man he is underneath all that.

he whimpers, and he’s not quite sure whether it’s because of the pain of the antiseptic wipe, or the pain he feels in his heart. either way, he needs something to take his mind off it all.

“why?” he asks as you clean his wound with a kind hand. so soft, your touch, as if you’re scared of hurting him. as if anything you could ever do would hurt him.

“why what?” you respond as you toss away the bloodied wipe and move to grab the cream. you put a dollop on your finger and begin to gently press it against the wound. he groans, and you mutter out a small apology. you mean it too; you don’t want to cause him any more pain.

“why are you doing this?” he says through gritted teeth, breathing heavy and laboured as he tried to power through the sting that he feels in his side, “why are you so nice to me when i’m - oh fuck, it hurts - when i’m anything but nice to you?”

you pause for a second, mulling over his question, repeating it in your mind until you can settle on an answer. well, an answer that’s palatable for him, anyway.

“you’re not not nice,” you say, capping the cream and putting it down on top of yunho’s thigh; you’d need it layered anyway. then you grab the bandage and rip off the adhesive cover, “and even if you were, i don’t think that wouldn’t change how i feel about you as a person.”

he watches with confusion in his eyes as you line up the bandage and smooth it over his skin. you run your fingers along the edges, pressing it down the make sure it’s secure. he’s sure that they linger on his skin for a moment longer than they have to, but he says nothing as you pull your hand back and rest it on your lap.

“how do you feel about me?” he whispers quietly into the cold air of the bathroom. it’s quite possibly the worst place he can imagine to have this conversation, and yet it seems the fit the atmosphere perfectly. somehow it feels so natural, talking about feelings whilst you patch up his injuries in the bathroom.

“i’ve fallen for you,” you bite the bullet, just coming straight out with it, “hook, line, and sinker, yun.”

it feels good to get it off your chest at long last. even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, or it makes things weird between the two of you. even if he begins to avoid you more, or just straight up moves out, it’s feels nice to have it out in the open. you’ve cast your net, it’s up to him whether or not he lets you catch him…

“oh,” is all he says at first, and you try not to think too much into that single syllable. you pick up the tube of antiseptic cream again and turn your attention to his eyebrow, “you like me?”

you nod as you put another globule on your finger and lean into him to get closer to the cut. you ignore the way he stares at you as you work, trying you hardest to avoid making eye contact. you already feel like your heart is about to beat itself free from your chest; you don’t need to worry it any more.

but then you feel a finger brush softly against your face, a scabbed up knuckle teasing your soft skin as it’s traces your cheekbone. a breath gets caught in your throat, and your finger stills against yunho’s brow bone. against your better judgement, you let yourself focus on his expression, making eye contact with the chocolate pools that never failed to draw you in. they’re beautiful, as always, but they reveal so much more than they usually do. the corners crinkle up into crows feet as his pupils twinkle with an emotion you’ve never really seen on his face before. it suits him… a lot.

“that’s a relief,” he breathes out, the semblance of a chuckle in his voice, “i’ve been calling you sweetheart in my brain since the moment we moved in together; it’ll be nice to be able to call you that to your face… sweetheart.”

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 24.

Summary: The night of the Henrys dinner has you experiencing the extremes of friendship, as the distance between you and Farleigh only seems to grow further apart, while you, Venetia, and Felix proceed to get arguably too close.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Felix/Reader/Venetia where the reader is the literal line between this being incest and this being just an incest-adjacent-but-definitely-still-taboo-grey-area. Drunk sex, oral (f receiving), reader's AGAB is never made specific.

A/N: 9442 words. HOLY SHIT. hello again friends, there has been so many different versions of the smut scene in this chapter, but im ultimately very happy and satisfied with what ended up in the final cut (I wrote this A/N and then rewrote the scene AGAIN (5th time I think I'm now at) and now I'm happy with the set up for it too 😌). that being said, i also rewrote the scene with Farleigh because I rewatched the Henrys dinner again and the original scene, while it would make sense emotionally in one sense, the scene I ended up with now I think works better, it still works emotionally but also it means he aligns both with the film and with the extra context the fic provides, yanno? if this chapter had you thinking or feeling anythings, you know i always love to know and hear them <3

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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The minute you step into the dining room by Oliver's side, Farleigh shoots you a withering look. Unfortunately he's already seated, a Henry, and a Henry's Wife on either side of him, and Oliver's in your ear quietly asking where he's meant to be sitting himself. All you can do is direct him to his seat, anxiety once again beginning to bubble in your gut. When you mouth an apology to Farleigh, he rolls his eyes, and turns to the Henry on his left with a fake smile. Fuck. It had been a long time since Farleigh had been genuinely upset with you, and even longer since you'd actually deserved it the way you know you do now. All you can hope is that you get the opportunity tonight, or at the very least tomorrow morning, to talk things out with him.

Before you can get too caught up in your thoughts, however, Venetia is slipping past you with a tight smile, pinching your ass as she goes. You hear Felix, half a step behind her and having seen the moment, sigh her name with exasperation, but she just turns throws him a playfully amused smirk before she's making her way to her seat by Oliver. It is a surprise to think they'd come down together, but Felix explains quietly to you that he'd felt the need to speak to her about Oliver, about what happened. The two of you take your seats together, Felix sounding exasperated as he explains that Venetia had said nothing had happened between her and Oliver; you know Venetia's watching the two of you, even as you make a point of fixing your gaze on the array of cutlery before you.

"Ollie was right," Felix muttered, fussing with the stem of his wine glass, clearly wishing it wasn't empty, "she was so pissed she doesn't even remember coming on to him- why 's she got to be like this, honestly?" At least he sounds more disappointed than angry. When you look up, chancing a glance over at the woman herself, you see her staring right back at you. Felix is still mulling over his empty glass, but the look in Venetia's eyes as she raises a single, perfect eyebrow at you says that she knows exactly what you're being told right now.

And that she knows you know she lied to Felix.

That woman has absolutely no remorse; the way these lies are really beginning to build is making you feel even more queasy than you already were. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, you simply avert your gaze, tipping your head to the side to instead look at Felix.

"I think it's because she likes seeing you pout," you teased softly, tone light in an attempt to bring up his mood. Felix's expression immediately shifts to something both embarrassed and faintly pleased, already anticipating your praise, "it's a cute look on you," you continued, wetting your lips, "at least I think so." There's a faint blush on his cheeks now, expression almost bashful. For a moment his gaze flicks to his sister, who's thankfully looked away as the staff have begun to serve drinks, but just as quickly he's looking back at you.

"You're shameless," he mutters, trying and failing to fight off a grin.

"And what, dear Felix, would I have to be ashamed of?" Lips quirking into a smug, little smile, you take quiet joy in the snort of laughter that escapes him. You're glad to see his mood has turned around considerably before you let your attention drift away, striking up a conversation with Henry of Suffolk on your other side.

As always, your planning pays off over the course of the dinner, engaging in lively conversation with the rest of the guests, masking your nerves with a bright smile and thoughtful bouts of small talk with everyone around you. With each name and detail you remember, you see those around you growing more comfortable and amiable with you just as they grew more intoxicated. Nobody goes overboard, of course, well, at least not in a way that would be completely unacceptable, but spirits are high and the guests are more than eager when Sir James excitedly informs them all of the wide selection of songs their karaoke machine has since Venetia had asked him to update it.

"Does this mean we get to hear you attempt Crocodile Rock again, Jimmy?" Lord Henry, Sir James' godson and always a little too enthusiastic for moments such as these, is the only person in the world who you think would ever call Sir James 'Jimmy'. He's done it once or twice before that you remember, but it still catches you off guard, and the laughter that escapes you is almost undignified, not that anybody notices. Sir James himself laughs along, as the rest of the table seems thoroughly amused by the idea, though he claims he may need to open another bottle of wine before he considers stepping up to the microphone himself.

Once dinner has concluded, several of the guests, yourself included, opt to head outside briefly to smoke before retiring to the larger drawing room the Cattons used to entertain groups like this. Felix declines your invitation, choosing instead to check in with Oliver as the evening was progressing. Considering Oliver had only just stopped looking like a deer in the headlights whenever someone tried to make conversation with him, you were sure he would appreciate a more familiar moment of kindness.

You, however, were afforded no such kindness. Stepping outside, your attention is immediately caught on Farleigh, perched on one of the railings by the stairs, pointedly having removed himself from the others who had also chosen to take in the evening air. Elegant and beautiful and so clearly full of disdain, his eyes narrow as you make eye contact with him. Pulling your own ornate cigarette case from your pocket, you join him, asking to borrow a light. Silently, he offers his lighter, and you thank him quietly, feeling his ice cold gaze boring into you.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," he sneered, voice low enough that only you could catch his words, "of you deciding to finally grace me with your presence." It stung.

"Farleigh," you sighed, gaze imploring as you finally met his, taking a draught from your cigarette. But he in unwavering in his irritation. Sighing, you let your focus drop as you tried to recall the lines you'd prepared earlier, "I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am, by seeming otherwise."

Farleigh snorts derisively, letting your words hang in the air as he finally looked away, raising his own cigarette to his lips. The way he smiles hold absolutely no warmth.

"You know he's lying to you," there's a casual cruelty to Farleigh's voice that you'd heard so often in your life, but so rarely directed at you, "I don't know what he told you and Felix, but he's lying, I know what I saw -"

"I know he's lying," you admit faintly, "I believe you, Farleigh, I know you wouldn't fuck with me and Fi over something like this," you kicked the stone steps idly with the toe of your fancy shoes, trying to keep your own voice just as light, "and Ollie knows it too."

"Know what?"

"That I know he's lying," finally you look up again, meeting his gaze but having no idea what to read in his expression, "that I believe you despite what he told us."

"Does Felix know?"

Farleigh knows he doesn't by the way you immediately go quiet. There's genuine disgust in his voice when he calls you spineless, when he tells you that your so blinded by love that you can't see that this can only end badly. Part of you believes he's right, but you still try to have hope despite that.

"You don't get it," you finally huff, scowling in an attempt to hide how hurt you were by his words, "and it's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to," you jab him in the chest for emphasis, cigarette between your fingers, "because it's so much easier for you to dismiss Ollie out of hand since you've never liked him, or even bothered to get to know him. Isn't it fucking easier for you, Farleigh, to hope we turn against him so you don't have to keep putting up with him?" Lip curling into a sneer, the vitriolic way you speak surprises even yourself.

"I'm not the bad guy for giving a shit about you," his voice is rising despite how he was fighting to remain dismissive and nonchalant, "and not trusting a fucking stranger -"

"This isn't you giving a shit about me," you couldn't help but scoff, wine drunk and more than able to match his bitchy energy with your own, "you give a shit about you, Farleigh; you and your fucking pride," you spit, finding yourself altogether tired of his ongoing attitude towards Oliver and how he was trying to now mask it as altruism, "what happens if it all works out, what then, Farleigh?"

"It's not going to~" Farleigh sings meanly under his breath with that same humourless smile as before. Despite being toe to toe with you, he'd been avoiding eye contact as best he could, until now. There's something in his eyes behind the icy anger that almost looks hurt. Farleigh's voice is a whisper as he leans in, nose to nose with you, "and when it goes badly, when you let him break your heart, and my cousin's heart, when you finally realise that he's fucking using you because nothing will ever be enough for him," Farleigh's lip curls derisively as you feels hot, angry tears stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, "don't you dare come crying to me that you 'loved not wisely but too well', because I know," for just a moment you feel pinned by the intensity of his gaze in this moment as he turned Othello's words on you yet again, "and I'm fucking warning you now."

He steps out of your space, sighing loudly, as if completely oblivious to the tears on your cheeks and how he's torn your heart to shreds. But then, as always, he knows you well enough to intuit exactly how to twist the knife.

"Don't look at me like that," he rolls his eyes, "you know I'm right," then, eyebrows raised, he even has the gall to ask if you're even going to finish your cigarette, which had gone out. Shaking your head weakly, your running entirely on autopilot as you pass it over to him.

As you stand there, the air feeling too warm on your skin, your collar too tight, the taste of smoke and ash suddenly sickening on your tongue, despair wells up within you, choking you too from the inside out. Farleigh's words play on repeat inside your head, and you know you should leave, shouldn't engage further, you weren't in your right mind to begin with, drunk and a mess of emotions. But one thought sticks out, loud above all the others.

"Everyone uses me, Farleigh," you choke out, "you- you really think that bothers me?" And you look to see him shocked in the face of your teary anger.

"What?"

"If Oliver were to ask for the world, I'd give it to him," you tell Farleigh with a defiant scowl, not bothering to lower your voice as you wipes your tears roughly, "I can afford it after all. When it comes to the people I love, I can afford anything, or did you you and your pride choose to forget?" Everyone around you has gone quiet, all eyes upon the two of you, but none of them matter to either you or Farleigh in this moment. Standing as tall as you're able, you square your shoulders. Without giving him a chance to reply, you take your anger and lingering sense of betrayal as you turned on your heel and stormed back inside.

Tomorrow you were sure you'd regret making a scene, regret your harsh words and arrogance, but you had no idea how else to get through to him at the time. If Farleigh was jealous because of how loving and accommodating you were to Oliver, he'd need to get over himself. There was nothing you wouldn't do, no price you wouldn't pay, for the people who made you and Felix happy, you thought he knew this. What in the hell could ever reassure or even convince him if, after so much of your lives together, all the years and moments and love shared already, didn't make it abundantly clear that that meant him too?

Pulling off your suit jacket the minute you step through the doors, you throw it into the hands of a confused member of the staff, just telling them to put it somewhere for Duncan to take care of. However, before you can even find Felix amid everyone gathered in the drawing room, you find your focus, and your arm, snatched by a mischievous looking Venetia. Considering she and Felix appear getting along once again, you decide you have all the time in the world to humour the girl who'd never once been afraid to ask you for something she wants. Perhaps she'll be able to take your mind off of Farleigh and all he'd said. At the very least she hands you another glass of champagne.

"You've been so cold to me these past few days," Venetia pouted where she was clinging to your arm. It seems in the dim light and in her current state she is completely oblivious to the fact that you'd just been crying, thank god, "if you don't sing something with me, I'll start thinking you don't even like me." She's wearing that beautiful, dangerous grin of hers that she always wears when she knows she's on the edge of pushing your buttons about something. But in this moment Venetia is mean and pretty, and you're feeling tipsy and indulgent, so you let yourself be coerced by the sight of her smile.

"Careful, pretty girl," you teased with a smirk, letting her drag you over to Duncan who had been granted the role of overseeing song selections, "I might start believing you want me around."

Surprisingly, Venetia looks up from the song book in her hands, as if surprised by your accusation.

"As if anyone else would be half as good to me; of course I want you around, pet," and then immediately turns back to poring over song choices. It hits you in a way you hadn't anticipated, and you know part of that was due to your altercation with Farleigh. Still, it was the kind of fond sentiment Venetia was so often shying away from admitting that sometimes you genuinely forgot how much she actually appreciated your place in her life. So often it seemed that she took you for granted, and you played along because it never outweighed how much joy and pleasure you took in making her happy, even if it was often at your expense. But Venetia was just as much a masochist, and quietly loved that you so often gave as good as you got.

Duncan's expression doesn't change from its carefully controlled neutral veneer while he watches you and Venetia flipping through the song book. For a moment you recall how often you'd begged as a teenager for him to let you join the service staff at Saltburn for events like this simply so you wouldn't have to be looked at or talked to. He'd of course never let you, nor had Elspeth when you'd gone to her with the proposal. Still, he'd taken you aside during your third Summer and asked what it was about the events that made them so difficult for you. He'd been putting together detailed dossiers on the events at the estate for you ever since.

You still think you'd make a good team member for the staff, but to you, Duncan was utterly irreplaceable at Saltburn.

"Oh, this one, don't you think, pet?" Venetia asks, tugging you once more to bring your attention to where she was pointing out a Fall Out Boy song. The one where the groom finds out his bride is a whore; the nerve on her after what she did two nights ago. Keeping your composure, however, you raise an eyebrow at her.

"Thought you weren't a fan of that tragic, emo stuff," you smirked, to which Venetia rolled her eyes, scoffing for you to pick one then, "what about ABBA?" You suggested knowingly, "everyone loves ABBA" Despite her attempt at remaining put out by you, her mood picks up when you at least tell her she can pick the song, and she's grinning with an almost childlike glee at the idea. Still, you know you don't have to worry too much, there's only one ABBA song you know she'll pick.

As Venetia's adding her song selection to the list, your focus finally drifts back around the room. You finish your glass and note that Farleigh's finally slunk on from outside, taking up brooding in an arm chair in a particularly dark corner of the room and refusing to look anywhere but his drink. Finally, however, you spot Felix in conversation with Oliver, his arm around the shorter man's shoulders where they've staked their claim on one end of the wide, ornate sofa. For just a moment his gaze finds you, and he gives you and his sister the briefest exasperated smile, like he knows exactly what you've been talked into.

There's still a few others who have yet to have their turn, so the two of you decide to get yourselves another drink -

"Grab one for me too, will you?" Felix calls after you from where he'd settled himself on the sofa.

"Of course, my darling, useless brother," Venetia practically sings back, swanning past him with an arm once more firmly tucked in yours.

"Thank you, Vee, I love you too," you think you can hear Felix rolling his eyes fondly. Still, Venetia's giggling as the two of you make your way to the drink caddy in the corner of the room.

Venetia snickers quietly, barking at you so low only you could hear as you poured Felix a glass of champagne after your own, and a third for Oliver too. But you don't have it in your heart to be mad, and grin as you knock your shoulder with her's.

"Watch yourself, Ven," you warned her playfully. Her laughter lights up the little corner of the room you both occupied. Your lingering reasons to stay mad at her regarding her tryst with Oliver seem to be disappearing faster as the night went on. It almost definitely has something to do with the drinks, but you can't seem to bring yourself to mind.

"Why would I need to watch myself when I've got you to do it for me again," and she gives a little twirl as if to emphasise, which becomes twofold when you catch her by the elbow to steady her as she almost over balances, "see?" Her voice is low and flirty, stepping into your space as she picks up her champagne glass, "so don't get all bitchy again," but her tone is sweet when she teases you, "I need my knight in shining armour."

"It's called consequences," you chuckled, though you still let her wind her arms around your neck in a gesture that would be far too intimate for even this secluded corner of this setting if most everyone else weren't also inebriated, "if you insist on jeopardising mine and Fi's happiness you'll have to learn to take care of yourself."

"But you like being good to me," her smile is sharp and she leans in, her forehead against yours. This rare, unashamedly needy side of Venetia was really quite endearing. Groaning, you allow yourself to give in for just a moment, kissing her quickly.

"God fucking help me, I do," you agreed with a vaguely frustrated huff. Venetia actually giggles, tells you this is why she loves you, and send more than happy with this result to let you both get back to the task you'd been at the drinks caddy for originally. It seemed no one had taken any real note of the intimate moment in the corner of the room anyhow, it kind of just seemed that that was how this night was progressing all around.

When you get back to Felix and Oliver, both with a drink in each hand, she drapes herself rather inelegantly on the arm of the sofa by her brother after she hands him his drink. Oliver seems surprised when you hand him one too, looking at you, leaning against the back of the sofa, with this wide-eyed look of gratefulness. The four of you watch with quiet amusement as one of the younger wives of the Henrys makes a decent attempt at Total Eclipse of the Heart.

"What'd you end up deciding on?" Felix murmurs loud enough for only your little group to hear, and Venetia giggles when all she says is the name of the band. Felix's smile grows wider, turning fond as he looks from her, to back at you. When he makes a noise of understanding, even you can't help but grin, despite how Oliver's voicing his confusion. All Felix can respond with is, "it's a very old, very stupid joke," which Venetia immediately scoffs at, reminding him that it's 'our song' in reference to the three of you.

As they bicker about whether or not it's stupid - you're of the opinion that it is, but that's part of the reason why you love it - you lean down to murmur to Oliver with a smirk;

"Does Your Mother Know?"

As the realisation hits him, a startled laugh escapes him, his hand coming up to cover his sudden smile. Felix turns to him, leaning his head against yours, asking Oliver now to weigh in on whether it was stupid.

"Dunno; does she know?" He grins in return, eyes shining in the low, golden light of the room. You, Felix, and Venetia all burst out laughing at that, earning a scathing look from the man who'd just stepped up to take the microphone, and the four of you loudly try to both apologise and shush each other while unable to fight off your collective giggles.

By the time you and Venetia step up to the microphone, you have no idea where your jacket is, the top few buttons of your fancy jumpsuit are undone, and you can't stop smiling. It's as if your earlier altercation with Farleigh is almost entirely forgotten. For a moment, everything's easy again, everything's okay and bright and Venetia is by your side as the two of you pass the mic back and forth between you both. It's the most lively song of the night so far, and you can see Elspeth laughing into her wine glass as she watches you both with fondness.

A song that had once been put on by Venetia herself in an act of malice, blasting it from her little, portable CD player when she'd caught you and Felix making out by the lake as teenagers, had since developed into the soundtrack of countless bright memories. The three of you had cheered when it had come on in a club in LA none of you were old enough to be in, it was always on road trip mixtapes, and had been played throughout various hotels all across the world as you'd been getting ready together to go out on the town.

It was your song after all.

All you could think in this moment is how much you hated when Felix and Venetia were on bad terms.

When the song ends, there's a smattering of applause. You pass the microphone over to the next singer as Venetia takes your hand and pulls you back over to Felix, who's regarding you both with amused exasperation. Oliver's gone to get himself another drink, Felix tells you as Venetia drapes herself on his lap, and you take the now vacant seat beside him.

"God I haven't heard that song in ages," Felix snorts, arm around Venetia to keep her steady as she gets herself more comfortable.

"We should go clubbing again," you insist, head resting on Felix's shoulder, tucked up against his other side, then, "Vee, you should come visit us at Oxford some weekend!" However both Cattons beside you scoff dismissively at the thought.

"God, I wouldn't be caught dead at some dreadful, uni, bar night."

"That's mean, Ven, they're fun!" Felix's dismissal immediately turns to playful indignance, "I'm more worried about your bursting into flames the minute you try to step foot on campus."

"Why would I burst into flames?!" Venetia's eyes went wide, but Felix looks equally as bright and shocked.

"Because that's what you said would happen when mum asked you if you'd ever consider enrolling after I got accepted!"

Venetia's mouth snaps closed, embarrassed smile and faint flush giving her away as her own words seem to be coming back to her.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled, "right," then, after a beat, she looks to you, "do you have any smokes on you, pet?"

"For you, Ven, always," you teased, feeling all kinds of contented and warm in this moment, by their side. Pulling your pocket book out of your pocket, you offer one to Venetia before apologising for not having a lighter. Felix tells her he's got it before she can even stand, and grunts as he tries to keep her balanced on his lap while reaching into his own pants pocket to pull out a little, ornate lighter. He flicks it open, holding the flame aloft for Venetia, who rolls her eyes as she lights her cigarette off of it.

"I still can't believe you have a formal lighter," she snickers.

"I only ever use it here," Felix grins to himself, gaze fixed on the silver lighter in his grip as he flips it open and closed, "honestly I don't even think I'll bring my suit back to Oxford this semester, I only wore it once, and Y/N knows where we can hire them."

"Of course they do," Venetia gives you a knowing smile, and you simply shrug, your mood unable to be ruined by anything, even canine allegations, in this moment.

"At least I'm consistent," you smirked, and Venetia reached over, her tone both saccharine and teasing as she scratches beneath your chin and calls you 'good doggie'. Felix groans at that, as he always did, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"Why've you've always got to ruin things, Vee?" He asked, exasperated, but Venetia simply leaned further into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders with a blithe smile.

"I haven't ruined anything, Felix; do you think I've ruined anything, pet?" Venetia's sharp gaze turns on you, and Felix turns his face to look at you too. All you do is shrug; right now you were taking her degrading nickname as a compliment.

"I can't believe you put up with her," Felix snorts.

"Because you haven't tasted the dog treats she buys me," you counter without even really thinking, though the minute Venetia starts absolutely cackling and Felix looks at you in absolute, horrified disbelief, you clarify, "I'm kidding, oh my god, Fi, I'm totally kidding!" Which thankfully is enough to alleviate his concerns, and he's then laughing just as hard as you and Venetia.

The others are looking at you again, the three of you lost in your own little world, but you can't even begin to care. Everything in this moment is warm and familiar and right. Your anxiety over events stands no chance when you're drunk and laughing with the Catton siblings by your side.

These were moments you loved. These were moments where you felt loved, where this house felt like your home. These were your people, Felix and Venetia, Farleigh too more often than not, and you knew, if given time, you could make Oliver feel just as loved, just as home as Saltburn had long since made you feel. But Farleigh and Oliver were far from your mind tonight; Oliver hadn't returned, and Farleigh was keeping his distance from you, and Venetia had kicked her legs out over you as your focus drifted back to the guests providing entertainment, trying to be a little less shameless, as Felix had so rightly called you earlier, about your love for them both. That being said, at least you weren't the only one... Why Henry had thought taking off his jumper like his rendition of Apple Bottom Jeans was a strip tease was beyond you, but at least it was amusing.

"Fuck it, I'm getting another drink," Felix announced, gently tapping on Venetia's thigh to indicate for her to finally get up and move. When she mentions that she could use one too, Felix is already offering you a hand, knowing you'd be coming along too.

The three of you make your back back over to the drink cart in the corner, all tipsy enough to enjoy bopping along to Henry's questionable singing to the catchy tune, each collecting another flute of champagne. Gaze scanning the gathering, your eyes zero in on the what you recognise to be Farleigh and Oliver together on one of the sofas facing a wall adorned by several royal portraits. Something about the sight, after your earlier conversation with Farleigh, makes you uneasy, and you find yourself finishing your drink quickly, turning back to the siblings in an attempt to distract yourself. Venetia's more than willing to pull you in to dance with her for the moment.

But then you hear it, and your blood turns cold. There's something about hearing Farleigh's voice rise brightly above Henry's singing, bringing the embarrassing display to a close, that makes a strange, guilty kind of anger flare to life in your chest.

Turning back, you watch with a dawning almost horror as he volunteers a clearly reluctant Oliver for the next song, one he is choosing for him. Unfortunately you know Farleigh too well to assume it's anything other than some sort of trap for your poor friend.

And much to your chagrin, you're right.

Oliver stumbles awkwardly through the lyrics he clearly doesn't know in front of a less than lukewarm audience. He doesn't seem to realise exactly what he's singing, that it's all a cruel joke, until -

"I love you-" Oliver's voice falters, falls as the next words flash up on screen, "you pay my rent."

But Farleigh's not looking at him, even as Oliver calls him over, tries to salvage the situation, insisting with as much ire as he can despite clearly being embarrassed, that it's Farleigh song too. Farleigh's looking at you, something vindictive in his gaze before he turns away, agreeing without hesitation, stepping into the spotlight without a shred of concern despite the song and it's less than kind implications.

That spiteful fucking asshole!

"No," leaves your lips as an involuntary, furious gasp. You don't even realise you make a start towards him until you feel Felix's hand holding your arm firmly, as if anticipating you better than you can.

"That's..." Felix doesn't have the exact words for it, part of him not wanting to believe his cousin was truely being malicious, but you knew better. Still, clearly he was as disappointed as you were angry.

"Come on, it's -" but Venetia stops laughing and just sighs when both you and Felix turn on her with less than approving looks. She rolls her eyes, arms crossed delicately over her chest as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm so fucking done with this," you hissed furiously, stalking out of the room. As much as you love Oliver and want to reassure him, you're in absolutely no state to do so.

While you don't exactly expect the Catton siblings to give up the remainder of their night for you, there's still a swell of gratefulness when you hear Venetia's heels against Saltburn's floorboards as she trots after you.

"You know usually -" you begin to rant, absolutely seething with rage as you blew past several bemused members of staff ferrying food and snacks to the drawing room, "- and yeah, I'll own up to this - usually it's my fault that I don't have fun at events like this," you turned on your heel suddenly at the bottom of the red staircase, feeling particularly dramatic and petty in your drunken fury. Venetia catches herself before she can run into you, watching you, letting you rant with amusement in her eyes. Not that that deters you in the slightest, "he's so petty, so fucking petty and vindictive."

"You know how Farleigh gets," Venetia's voice is still warm, despite your fury.

"Yeah, he's entitled," you hissed venomously, "I love you all to death, but you really all can be so fucking entitled, yes, including you," you added without a moment of hesitation.

"What'd I do?" Venetia laughed brightly, but you narrowed your eyes at her. She knows what she did. In the next moment, as if suddenly remembering, she raises her hands in mock surrender. But there's a softness in her eyes as she gently lowers her hands to your shoulders, reassuring you that they all loved you too.

Behind her however, coming out of the drawing room, Felix is approaching with a less than enthused expression.

"Ollie won't talk to me," he's actually pouting, "says he's fine," clearly Felix doesn't believe him, "says he just wants to be left alone," clearly Felix doesn't like that either.

"Y/N's calling us entitled," Venetia supplies with a candid kind of amusement. While Felix's expression turns to confusion, you groan loudly at her antics and turn on your heel, throwing your hands up in the air with exasperation as you head back through the house towards your bedroom, fully retiring from everything that has happened tonight.

"What are we being entitled about?" Felix asks, trotting behind you with his sister in tow. You don't dignify it with an answer, but Venetia snorts.

"Them, I assume."

"Oh," Felix contemplates for a moment, before picking up his pace to match your stride, "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"It's fine, Fi," you sighed, taking his hand as he walked in step beside you, "I'm mostly just mad at Farleigh -"

"How come you're all understanding with Feef, but I get my head bitten off?" Venetia stepped up to your other side, tone incredulous as she keeps up with you both, "you'd let him get away with murder!"

Felix sticks his tongue out at his sister with a petulant kind of glee.

"God, I'm so tired of taking sides," taking the steps up to the second floor, you huff a long, world-weary sigh, "I just want to forget this night ever happened, honestly."

"I can help with that," Felix's tone is laden with smug innuendo, and finally you feel yourself beginning to relax, giving his hand a squeeze. Beside you, Venetia is quiet, but you can tell she wants to say something. Apparently Felix can tell too, however, as less than a moment later he says, "come on, out with it Vee, what've you got a problem with now."

"Will I be called entitled again if I say I'd appreciate their company tonight instead?" Venetia bites back at her brother as the three of you come to the end of the blue room and step into the long gallery. Felix's grip on your hand grows just a little tighter; you know he's trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't make him sound entitled to you too.

"Don't make me choose," you muttered finally when you get to your bedroom, forehead pressed against the door, "please, I just want to be good to you both, you know this," then after a soft sigh you hear yourself whisper, "I just want to be good."

After a beat, Venetia laughs airily.

"Careful about what you're implying, pet," but she actually sounds coy when she says it. It hits you a moment later what she means, and though you initially tried to deny it, Venetia can't help herself but continue, "I mean, I know our family's blessed with good genes, but -"

"Venetia, you're the one who asked if I think about Felix when I fuck you," you turned on her, feeling altogether flustered at the idea and desperate for her to stop talking. Venetia turns bright red, letting out a mortified shriek, but surprisingly Felix is grinning at you.

"Do you?"

"I..." but you can't look either of them in the eyes, "not usually -"

"Ha!" Felix immediately turns to shout in his sister's face, but despite this, Venetia lights up as if thoroughly vindicated.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" She crows with a delight neither you nor Felix had seemed to anticipate, "'He doesn't have a cunt, Ven'," she parroted your own words back at you from long ago in a mocking immitation, "god you were so fucking smarmy about it too, I knew you were lying!"

"I wasn't being smarmy, I was trying not to hurt your feelings!" You couldn't help but laugh, given the situation, however Venetia, head held high, barges right past you, opening the door.

"What hurts my feelings, pet," she tells you suddenly sounding incredibly matter-of-fact, making herself at home on the edge of the bed, looking at you both still in the doorway, "is that I'm pretty sure you're better when you go down on me while you're thinking about Felix," she gives her words a moment to settle in before emphasising - "like distinctly, probably measurably better."

When you turn to Felix, you're not quite sure exactly what you're anticipating, but it's definitely not for him to be looking as ridiculously smug as he does at that moment. You know he can tell how embarrassed you are by this all, but he clearly is taking it as a personal victory.

"For the record, I'm not shit at giving head when I'm not thinking about you."

That stupid, beautiful, smug bastard just grins wider at you.

"Obviously you're good," Venetia rolls her eyes, "we both know I've put too much time into this part of our friendship for you not to be, but," she pauses, wetting her lips as she waits for you to look back at her. When you turn back she's leaning back on her hands, wearing a surprisingly similar, pleased look as she very obviously leers at you. Of course you both already know the answer, but she asks anyways, just in the hopes of hearing you admit it; "I'm right, aren't I, Y/N?"

"Why does it even matter?" You tried weakly, unable to look at either of them as you made your way to the dresser to start removing your jewellery.

"It's a matter of principle," Felix, why, you think to yourself when you can hear his big, dumb grin in his voice. It's enough to remind you that you're all still rather drunk, but not enough for you to stop the conversation from heading in a very dangerous direction at full speed.

"No, Felix, shut up -" Venetia orders almost immediately at the sound of his delight regarding the implications she'd put forth about you, and he protests, but she ignores him, turning her focus back on you, "you're a slut for my brother, you've made that abundantly clear," she rolls her eyes dismissively, powering on despite how you were left reeling by how casually she'd said it, "who cares, I've made my peace with it, but -!" Eyebrows raised and eyes suddenly shining with a terrifying amount of glee, she grins at you, "if my theory is correct, then after tonight, Felix can hold it over my head until I die, and I get one of the best orgasms of my life."

Oh! Okay, this was a legitimate offer. Huh. Wait. Why did it already feel like you were the last one to realise she was being serious? Why did it already feel like you were the only one left to agree?

You weren't used to Felix and Venetia being on the same wavelength... Though honestly, if quietly, you really weren't complaining the more you think about it.

As much as you fucked around with them both, had spent a countless amount of time sharing casual nudity in the field together over the years with endless teasing and occasional curious questions here and there, and had spent more than a little time speculating about Venetia's desires on your own time, you hadn't... At least, not since you were all teens, and definitely never together like this.

Yeah, sure, there had been definitely quite a few times where you'd been with one of the siblings, or Farleigh, while one - or a few times both - were there, around. Sometimes it was accidental, sometimes it was something of a dare, or a twisted game, or a strange type of learning experience, but you were dumb, horny teenagers being dumb, horny teenagers.

But there's no youthful naivety in the way Venetia's looking at you now. Surprisingly, however, Felix speaks up in favour too.

"It does mean that you don't have to choose between us," he points out, voice gentle and warm as he approaches you. You've gone still by the dresser, conflicted desire pooling low in your gut as you spent more and more time considering it. Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, voice low and enticing in your ear, his gaze focused on yours in the mirror's reflection, "and I want the chance to make you feel good after the shitshow these few days have been," he murmurs, though he can't help but smirk as he adds, "we all know you get off on being good to us too."

"Are you sure? It's Venetia," you reminded him, giving him a last chance at an out even if you know he won't take it.

"Yeah, but I'm not fucking her," he points out flatly, "and it's not like it's much worse than what happened during that layover in Dubai a few years ago-"

"You two are absolute animals for that, god, I forgot about that," Venetia practically cackled as your eyes go wide as you too suddenly recall the moment Felix was talking about, "I still can't believe Y/N's into -"

"Shut up, Venetia!" You hissed through clenched teeth, mortified at the memory of what she'd witnessed when you and Felix had gotten back from the hotel bar and toppled into the bed across from hers in the little hotel room, "you promised you'd never bring that up, on pain of death." Venetia only laughs louder. Still, Felix had a point; somehow this was much less embarrassing. At least for you.

So it takes you only a few more moments of deliberation before you inevitably give in to your collective desire. Just for a second, however, before acting on it, you find yourself seeing right through Felix's intentions and seductive tone. He of course did want to be good to you, you knew that to be true, and you did get off on getting others off, but there was a key part that he was purposefully leaving out. He knows you see it; his expression is scrunching with amusement already as he rests his chin on your shoulder, anticipating your next words -

"You really wanna hold this over Ven's head, don't you?" At your words, your bright laughter, Felix immediately breaks, doesn't even try to deny it as he's laughing too.

"I really wanna hold this over her head forever and ever, yes."

"It's not like you'll ever tell anyone," Venetia points out archly from the bed. Upon consideration, you both realise she's absolutely right, and Felix's face falls for a moment, though you pat his cheek in consolidation.

"We'll know," you reassure him, and he's bright once more, ascertaining that as long as the three of you know it's worth it; you're the only three who would give a shit in the exact, weird way he needs you to anyways. Venetia blows a loud, petulant raspberry at you both.

Glancing over your shoulder, suddenly more than a little nervous despite your excitement building too, you see Venetia still thankfully grinning. Felix steps back from you, heading to sit down by her side. The two of them now regard you with eerily similar, evaluative looks.

"I feel like Farleigh once warned us something like this would happen," Felix says with a half smile, glancing at Venetia as he pulled off his bowtie.

"Which is why - again - we're never ever telling anyone about this," Venetia says firmly, which Felix snorts a quiet laugh at as he agrees, "especially not Farleigh," reaching up, she unclasp her own sparkling ensemble where it was tied at the back of her neck. As she does so, her gaze fixes back on you, on where you were now hovering with nervous anticipation. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest very suddenly - this is not where you had expected this night to go, not that you were complaining, it was just that you didn't quite know how to proceed. God you hoped at least one of them would set up and take the lead, because there was no way you could bring yourself to even consider taking charge in this moment.

Before Venetia can even get a word in, however, Felix speaks up, teasing you in a low voice.

"Thought you didn't want to choose?"

"I didn't- I don't," you assured quickly, feeling all tipsy and giddy and nervous and excited all at once, frozen to the spot when you can't be sure which one you should be acting on, "this is definitely the perfect solution to that," you giggled nervously, beginning to fidget, before suddenly looking at Venetia in alarm, head whipping around to look at Felix, "but I'm not getting off to the fact that you're siblings, for the record -" Felix makes a noise of vaguely horrified surprised, but Venetia just laughs.

"You can if you want," she teases coyly, "if it helps." Helps you get her off, you know she means.

"Fucking Christ, Vee," Felix mutters under his breath, but you can hear his amusement. This, thankfully, has alleviated your concerns, and you grin.

"So we're all- this is -? I just- I didn't expect- are you both -?"

"I'm rather excited," Venetia smirks casually, standing and turning away from you, sweeping her hair over her shoulders as an indication that she needs you to undo the zip down the back of her jumpsuit, "part of me does honestly wonder if all those whorish noises you both make are still real," she speaks as if you're not even here, even as your hands glide over her, helping her out of her clothes.

"Hey!" Felix protests as he's beckoning you over, "those weren't meant for you!" Venetia pouts for a moment when you leave her side, but gets over it quickly, draping herself, nude, back across the bed you and Felix share.

"Se ducing the street rat?" She asks candidly, to which both you and Felix both tell her to be nice, almost in synch. In response, Venetia fakes gagging and mutters that she hates you both. Then, after a moment of deliberation, she idly mentions with a vague air of disgust that she doesn't want to think about Oliver and Felix together.

"I don't want you thinking about Oliver at all, actually," Felix says cattily as he's undoing the buttons of your jumpsuit, to which she rolls her eyes and calls him possessive, "do you want to leave?" Felix asks her with a frank, unimpressed look, "you can go if you're going to be a pain; you don't have to be here, Vee."

Venetia groans as if putting up with Felix in this moment was quickly becoming a much bigger downside than she'd anticipated, but she does agree to stay and not to talk about Oliver. Felix's expression softens then when he casts an amused look to you where you've finished making quick work of undoing his dress shirt. Once he too has you unbuttoned, you shrug off the jumpsuit, letting it pool by your feel before you kick it away. His hands hold your bare thighs securely, all bickering forgotten in this moment as he gazed up at you with nothing but affection in the way he's regarding you. Leaning in, you kiss him, unable to fight back your own smile.

"But if it turns out you're bad at fucking and Y/N's been faking it with you this whole time, I will tell Farleigh," Venetia warns sharply, interrupting your moment as she seemed unable to help herself from needling the two of you even now. Which may have been her plan all along, you realise upon seeing her smile as you both arc up with indignation at the implication.

If Felix is fucking you absolutely senseless out of spite, you all know she'll still benefit from it.

It becomes something of a blur after that, Felix rolling his eyes as he undoes your buttons while Venetia refuses to help you out of your clothes before it's a rush of sweat and sex and breathless pleasure, moments to breathe and more wine. The Cattons push and pull and puppet you for their pleasure, much to your own, and you lose track of how it should feel wrong when it really starts to feel so fucking right.

Venetia was absolutely right; you absolutely loved how spoiled and entitled they could be, especially if it's you and your body they're acting so entitled over.

Finally, on your back, legs wrapped around Felix's waist, you're bracedagainst Venetia's trembling thighs as she desperately rides your face. All three of you seem to know she's getting closer, and Felix fucks you in deep, steady strokes. But he leans forward, his hand coming to rest firmly on the back of Venetia's neck as she's gasping and panting. He pulls her close enough that their foreheads press together, Venetia, incoherent and eyes squeezed closed, and his other hand gently hold her face, thumb brushing against her cheek.

"That's it, Vee, show them how much you appreciate them," Felix mumbled encouragingly, and Venetia gasps at the sound of his voice, winding her arms around his neck, bracing herself against him as she grew steadily closer to her peak.

"You're such a freak, Felix," Venetia whimpers, as if she wasn't a completely willing and enthusiastic participant in the events, "I can't believe -" but then you whimpered against her cunt, tongue fucking her desperately as you dug the nails of one hand into her thighs, fingers of the other finding her clit and setting a relentless pace. The change had her swearing and moaning, sharing desperate panting breaths with her brother, never quite crossing that gossamer thread into something they both couldn't justify, that line in the sand neither could talk their way into coming back from.

"Let them get you off, Vee," Felix murmurs, "if you're gonna call them a dog, let them be a good one for you," you let out an appreciative noise, at his praise, keeping up how insistently, thoroughly you were fucking her with your tongue and fingers. Venetia comes with her forehead braced on Felix's shoulder, him holding her close, fingers running through her hair as she gasps and shudders, her thighs twitching either side of your head.

Venetia catching her breath shuffles back, breathing hard as she sat back against the bedpost at the foot of the bed, giving Felix the chance to focus on fucking you properly himself. In the next moment he's over you, has your knees pressed against your chest beneath him before your head has even stopped spinning from the sensations of it all. The way he's smiling down at you, all amused and affectionate - god, he almost looks proud - while his cock is deep inside of you at this new, perfect angle, its enough for you to know you won't last much longer.

"It's actually really gross how hot I find you right now, pet," Venetia's smirking at you when you angle your head to look at her, your expression one of dazed bliss. She reaches languidly down the side of the bed to where you'd left your jumpsuit, fishing around in the pocket for your cigarettes. You hear Felix's warm laughter as he presses his face against the crook of your neck, but thank fuck he doesn't stop, because you're so damn close. You've lost the ability to speak, to even really think, so caught up in the way you're coming undone under their combined attention and affection.

"You always this pretty when you're about to cum?" Venetia's voice is low and sultry, reaching out to caress your cheek with her free hand. She's sitting by you now, leaning down on her elbow to drink in the sight of you like this, "or just when Felix is being especially good to you?" And she kisses you messily, a pleased moan escaping her as she tastes herself on your tongue. Felix gasps 'fuck' against your collar, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as the feeling of you cumming around him tips him over the edge too. Venetia grins against your lips as you whimper and gasp into her mouth, hand fisting in her hair as the pleasure overwhelms you.

When you let her go, she's smiling softly, her forehead pressed to yours as you pant, trying to catch your breath, reorient yourself.

"They're always this pretty," Felix finally says a little breathlessly. Venetia laughs softly, sitting up again, though she takes your hand. Felix gently lowers your legs back to the bed before he moves to stand; you can hear the grin in his voice even if you're still to dazed to even sit up. It's with absolute bliss that you gaze up at the ceiling of stars you'd painted for him, watching the faintest traces that are still glowing.

"I think you're just always good to them," Venetia teases fondly before she gives your hand a squeeze, looking down at you, "he is, isn't he? He's such a loverboy when it comes to you, it's sickening, truly," but there's no bite to her words. There's a pleasant fog in your mind leftover from all the sensations you're still coming down from, so all you can do is beam up at her, nodding.

And when Felix laughs, you feel it light up in your chest.

"Can I borrow a robe?" Venetia asks idly, finally dropping your hand; she too stands, "my point has been well and truly proven, and I think I've had enough of you both for tonight." After Felix tosses her a robe, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet; he sounds somehow both proud and sheepish when he apologises after noticing how your legs are trembling.

With her sparkly ensemble and shoes in hand, Venetia's left the room before you even make it to the bathroom to clean up.

"Oh God," in the shower, Felix seems to be hit by a realisation that leaves him more than a little mortified, "I hope Ollie didn't hear any of that." The thought hadn't even occurred to you, and for the barest moment your expression mirrors his as your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Then, after another moment of consideration, Felix's seems to become more thoughtful than concerned as he utters, "actually," he deliberates, "is it weird that I think Ollie would be just as into that as we were?" He has a point, and you snort a laugh, shaking your head, and Felix's embarrassed laughter joins yours after only a moment more.

Unfortunately, as you would find out the following morning, not only was Oliver completely oblivious to the vaguely taboo tryst that had happened in the room attached his own, but it somehow wasn't even the most scandalous thing that had happened that night.

[cattlemons]

hi :)) a bit of a personal request but could i get wanderer comfort for a fem or g/n reader? (your choice) i have a...difficult relationship with my father. when he's sad/angry/upset he usually takes his frustration out on me by yelling at me and calling me names and other hurtful things. then when i cry he tells me that I'm pretending to be a victim, and blames me entirely for his feelings. i just had a sitution like this earlier tonight so its on my mind :) anyway, could i get wanderer comfort for a situation like this? or if this is too specific maybe where reader just doesn't get along with their father? thanks sm <33333

A Salve For Unhealed Wounds

TW: Toxic dad, name calling by a parental figure, emotional distress and familial conflict, crying in public, there's a swear word in there, 1,5k words

a.n. Nonnie, sorry for the wait :( I had an exam and couldn't be on here at all (also left you a short message at the bottom)

It happened again. 

The man you were supposed to trust with your life yelled at you again. Your heart aches at the implication that the weight of his love for you changes depending on the emotion reigning his mind and heart. Your mind crumbles when it recollects the words he spat out so easily when red paints his iris. 

It wouldn’t have hurt as much if he’s always this way. It hurts because you’ve seen the smile that escapes his guarded heart on rare occasions. You’ve also heard him say good things and do good deeds the way an honorable man would–when he’s not mad that is.

It’s unfair that he can’t always be that way with you.

You took off towards the Puspa Cafe, hoping the bustle of Sumeru evening would be the cooling salve you need to soothe your battered mood. 

Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Entering the establishment, scents of coffee and spice filled your nostrils as ease settled between the spaces of your bones. The balmy yellow and brown hues greeted your weary state as the inviting warmth of the cinders burning in the oven beckons you to rest. You made the right call to come here tonight.

Or, so you thought.

Despite being on good terms with the otherwise lonesome man, you did not want to see the infamous hat guy; not tonight. It’s less about his presence and more about yours. The dynamic between the two of you is akin to that of a flying serpent and a scorpion. You’d take frequent jabs at each other, flinging teasing remarks and poking fun at one another but somehow, in a very weird roundabout way, there’s always a sincere sort of care behind it all. 

Right now, however, you don’t think you have it in you to take what you know he can dish. You did get lucky and got a secluded seat, you just hope he does not notice you here. 

“What are you doing here, prickly bush,” he called out to you just as your train of thought chugged away to somewhere beyond the oak doors of the cafe.

Right, so much for peace of mind.

You turn towards him, the frown that began dissipating moments ago returning in full force. Grumbling before speaking, you let out, “Not today, please, I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh yeah, someone’s definitely a prickle bush right now.”

You were at a crossroads between telling him to leave and bursting into tired tears when he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows scrunched as he sat across you. You looked at him but his eyes were trained away from you, staring at some other patron sitting at the wooden bar just a bit away from the both of you. 

Since when was he a caring man?

Your thoughts and confusion settle into a prolonged silence. You half expected him to grumble out an insult along the lines of “Are your ears clogged” or “Need help finding a hearing aid” but he, surprisingly, sat still; eyes now hopping over to a woman by the door having a conversation with a balding man. 

Is he patient now? What kind of patron-saint bullshit is he pulling?

Not that you’re complaining, though. You much prefer this despite the weirdness of it all; or rather the newness. 

“I’m fine–”

“Don’t lie, if you can’t lie,” he interrupts as he points at your fingers curling in on each other. 

He sure is perceptive when you don’t want him to be.

Silent gathers the both of you in its arms once more as you think of a response to give to him. He’s being kind right now but you don’t feel like divulging everything to him. Your friendship is just beginning to stand on two feet. It’s taking baby steps at best. You don’t want to scare him away by dumping all your shit on him. By the abyssal name, he probably carries more baggage than you and you don’t see him throwing them around.

“You don’t have to tell me, don’t get all constipated just because I asked,” he said before continuing even softer, “You seemed down, just thought it’d be helpful to ask.”

Though you did not notice it at the time, your heart slowly began to lay down the walls you raised from the events that transpired earlier under the roof of your father’s house. 

Perhaps, he can help.

The wanderer was about to take his leave when you whispered with a certain weariness he found familiar, “My father isn’t always a nice man.”

He sat back down as quickly as he could. He probably sat on one of the ornate hanging detailings of his hat or on that long sleeve of his but he couldn’t be bothered by it. Though his eyes look past you, you know his focus is solely on what you have to say.

So, you told him. At first, you tried to be as close to the baseline as possible, choosing to speak of the basic details but soon you choked up and told him everything. Your thoughts, your fears, even your longing for a better version of the father you wanted to look up to, bubbled out of your tired heart. As the night sky grows darker outside, you find yourself slightly teary-eyed as your long story comes towards its end. 

Your eyes were still on your hands that laid on your lap, palms now sweaty from excessive nervous rubbing. You stole a glance at him and, just like you, he barely moved from his previous position. He’s still not looking at you, almost like he’s not listening at all but you know he is. 

It took a beat or two, almost like he was waiting to see if you had more to say before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“You’re kind, you know?”

What?

“I don’t get it. What do you mean ‘I’m kind’?”

“Just that. You’re kind, maybe even too kind.”

You fully looked up at him now to see that his eyes were already on you. 

“I listened to you tell me about the horrible things that man says to you and, yet, you still call him by a title he doesn’t deserve,” before you can question him, he answers, “A dad.”

You’re silent as he continues, “This cruel world decides to give him something so precious and he decides to lie and say all these shitty things. He’s not a good man but he’s dumb too if he’s got something so precious and decides that the best course of action is to call it untrue names. Does he not realize the power a name holds?”

Wet droplets stain your hands and lap as tears fall from your eyelids, lungs heavy, and muscles sagging. 

Taking a look at his surroundings he sighs before taking his hat off and placing it on you.

“I’m sure you don’t want anyone seeing you like this and speaking about it tomorrow, here.”

The tenderness of his voice and action winds your heart up as more choked sobs gurgle out of your throat.

Your neck tightens in protest as you try to speak but you fight the pain of your contracting muscles as you force out, “On a good day I… I know that he's lying… but sometimes I can’t help but think he’s right,” you sniffled and let a wave of uncontrollable sobs pass you by before continuing, “I mean there’s only so much… so much… I can deny before something false starts feeling real.”

Your admission broke the puppet's imaginary heart as he wills himself to hold back his instinct to swing insults and fists at your father. Instead, he chose to let what he supposes are comforting words drown your sorrow. It’s rigid and almost primal the way he tries to soothe your sadness but it's tender and warm in its own way, just as he is. 

“Are you… are you sure he’s wrong? How can you… you be so sure?”

The staccato of your unsure question is met with unwavering eyes as he nods. 

“I’m sure. I wouldn’t have said what I said otherwise.”

You hid your face with your hands as your back slumped forward. The wanderer could see the heaving of your shoulders and he could only comfort you by repeating his praise for you. Much like a devotee chanting his faith, he whispered kind words in hopes that by repeating it, you will believe this too. He hopes he’s done enough to override the names your father engraved into you with angered frowns, at least temporarily. The road to recovery winds away and is far from linear but he's ready to accompany you if you want him to.

As you continue to let out the emotions you thought dried up years ago, you hear him say, “Even if you forget again, just tell me and I’ll remind you that you’re nice, you’re smart and you’re so, so kind.”

Nice, smart, and kind huh? 

You don’t think you can believe it right now but slowly, you hope you will.  

Part two (not really that intertwined but I made it with the same characters in mind) To Nonnie, I'm sorry you have to go through this. I hope this little piece of fiction brings you some comfort, even if it might not fully capture what you're feeling. If there's anything more I can do to help or if you just need someone to talk to, please let me know.

[batboyblog]

Less than 60 days out from the election, how do you think we’re doing, considering the recent debate and Taylor Swift unleashing the Swifties?

I'll start this by saying we're with-in the margin of effort, if either side really puts their backs into it, and pushes and shows up, volunteers in big numbers and turns out voters it could go either way.

So having said that, I feel good, right now the national polls are close, but all show Harris ahead. The swing state polls likewise are close but mostly show tied or leaning to Harris. On top of which Senate Democrats (and the candidate for Governor in NC) are running far ahead of her in polling, I hope thats a sign that late undecideds will break Democrat, they often do break toward the incumbent.

On the debate, I'm often skeptical that debates shift things. That said I think anyone watching would say that debate is pretty unique in the history of Presidential debates. The media has been working very hard to uh "sane wash" Trump and what he says. That debate was an unfiltered view of Trump. I'm frankly shocked he brought up the pet eating, the right has been meming about it but I thought he'd only say some dogwhistle to it not just straight up say some of the most racist shit imaginable on live TV. The bar for Trump was very low and he still failed totally to meet it. Likewise Harris had a high bar and met it, she was claim, she was professional, she came across as ready and smart while also serving as the audience surrogate to let us all know "yeah this is as crazy as you think it is"

just briefly here the attack on Haitian Americans is crazy, and racist, and the whole "the immigrants are eating dogs" goes back 100+ years, I've read people accusing NYC Jews in the early 1900s of kidnapping and eating neighborhood cats and dogs. But also its politically crazy too since Florida where Trump and Republican Senator Rick Scott have both been slipping in the polls as America's largest ethnic Haitian community, just over 500,000 or roughly 2% of the state, so great plan to call them pet stealing and eating monsters just before an election.

The other factor is the Laura Loomer. If anyone doesn't know who she is click that link and enjoy, but basically she's a white nationalist and Islamophobe (that's according to her) and the person extreme far right Republicans point to as proof that they're not "that bad" any ways, Loomer seems to have been with Trump, on his plane the day of the debate and every day since, and Republicans are wigging out

MTG, and any number of Trump super supporters are sounding off about how much they don't like this, and the internet is "joking" that Trump and Loomer are sleeping together. Together with his unhinged debate being connected with one of the worst people in American politics might cause serious problems. In any case a campaign of just alt-right memes is not gonna win most Americans.

On TSwift, I mean the data I've seen showed a really big jump in people exploring registering to vote after her message which is good. I'm again skeptical about how much of an impact she'll have? celebrities in general don't have that big of an impact, basically 90% of famous people are Democrats/liberal, but their fans don't always go along, don't get me wrong I'm happy she endorsed I just am unsure how big an impact it'll end up having.

So to repeat what I said at the top, we're in the margin of effort, if everyone who doesn't want Trump volunteers and puts in the work Harris will win, so

VOLUNTEER

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Lily is making throwaways to talk to herself now cause she's too afraid to turn anons back on.

[Lily's post]

There are so many golden nuggets in here. Since these are both most likely Lily lets look at a few!

Lily's media takes are beyond just bad, she asserts that the creators of children's cartoons are dangerous extremists for perceived bad messaging in their works that Lily just makes up.

Even without that Lily's takes on symbolism, metaphor, and just basic narrative structure are worth examining because they are some of the most bizarre and ignorant many of us have ever encountered.

But no one "orients their life around you", Lily. It just feels that way because you sit in your subsidized apartment on the internet all day ordering Door Dash from a Subway you could easily walk to. I'd say get some sun but you'd probably turn to ash like a vampire.

As for me? I do something you're incapable of: putting on a show.

No one cares you're trans, Lily. Get over it. Plenty of trans people exist in online nerd culture. You can't hide from the consequences of your own words and actions by using your demographic as shield.

Pfft. They could try. Go ahead. Make videos about me. Hell, Lily, unlike you I don't even hold or delete comments. The little anklebiters who like to lecture me in my comment section don't seem to realize I'm the one allowing them to be there expressing their stupid ignorant opinions because that aligns with my principles.

Lily doesn't make a video about me because she knows I'd just react to and laugh at it. And with any luck YouTube has taken her ability to copyright strike away because she's used it maliciously 9 times.

Also retard. Just say retard, Lily. Not "tradigrade" not "child left behind" not "fetal alcohol syndrome". Just say retard.

You clearly want to. And are bitter you can't because of the insular audience you've cultivated.

This is how I know it's you because only Lily Orchard could be upset I criticized the bland Antarctica anime for being a bland Antarctica anime the sole focus of which is to get 4 teenage moeblobs on a big technical ship. Which is written by a middle aged man who does nothing but moeblob shows and directed by a woman who does nothing but moeblob shows. They both worked on No Game No Life, Lily. You know. This:

The one with the 11 year old loli in love with her step brother. Actually Lily it sounds right up your alley. You should watch it next.

Antarctica show is so full of so many plot contrivances. Why does Shirase just carry her wad of Antarctica cash everywhere and dropped it so carelessly? It's sure convenient that her and Kimari just happen to go to the same school and Kimari happens to hear her loudly wailing about the money in the bathroom. How does Hinata, a 16 year old high school drop out who works in a convenience store think she can even hope to afford this trip? Where are her parents in this anyway? We never see them.

The girls only get on the trip in the first place because another girl who is a child star vlogger just happens to be also going and just happens to contact them wanting them to go in her stead. And after making friends with them she tells her mother that she won't go without the other 3 girls but... the rest of the expedition that adamantly refused to let them on before just suddenly agrees to take them? Because this one minor celebrity and her manager mom who isn't even going said so? Takako only wanted to go to Antarctica because it just sounded neat, she's not an artic researcher, or engineer, or anything that would justify her being out there (a woman in STEM? Perish the thought says 50 year old Jukki Hanada I guess) and she died out in a blizzard trying to get a laptop to email her daughter who she has now left motherless for no good reason. And this is only ever treated as heartwarming and not idiotic.

Face it Lily. The entire show exists just to get 4 teenage girls on a big ship so otaku men can enjoy both brainless moeblobs and technical ship porn. The show sure likes to emphasize over and over how the girls are joshi kosei too. Why couldn't the show have been about the trip of the adult women (who incidentally also act like brainless teenage girls in the show)?

Yeah you guys aren't winning against me on Utena lol. Here, have my post where I have the video walking people through the episode itself. If you want to ignore the actual text of the series in order to appear morally forthright that's your own problem:

And everyone on the bus clapped, and that Asian woman's name? Albert Einstein. What does this have to do with anything except poisoning the well by linking this unsourced incident in peoples' minds to Ant and I?

Also it's Twitter. So Twitter is bad and unreasonable here, but they're not bad and unreasonable when they're squawking at me over a classic anime they've never even watched. Or squawking at Ant cause "L-L-Lily is totes a Native trans woman?? So you can't criticize any of the batshittery that spews constantly from her face hole??"

Ah now we're on to Lily's response to herself.

Oh look out Ant, Lily's got damning screenshots she just can't show anybody right now.

Probably similar to when she happily accepted a screenshot from Poppy of Poppy being creepy to Courtney and tried to blame Courtney for it.

Lily you attract attention when people talk about you because the wider nerdy internet knows your takes are insanely bad. And they know your takes are all tangled up in your personal dramas and heinous actions. They can tell. You're not as subtle as you think you are.

I cut together my response to your bad Utena takes in your 2023 Steven Universe video on a whim and slapped it on my completely unestablished personal YouTube account. It got 5k views in a few days. That's how disliked you are.

Nobody knows who I am but you sure copyright struck 4 of my livestream VODs trying to take my channel down. The 4 VODs where I most talk about your blatantly obvious incest fetish at that. Nobody knows who I am but I've gained 10k subs in 6 months primarily from dunking on you. Because I'm better at YouTube than you are.

And people do bitch at me for saying retard constantly. And you know why I keep doing it? Because the ones who most often tell me not to are some of the most annoying, entitled, self-righteous, puritanical control freaks and it's an easy way to weed them out.

By the way have fun trying to find a lawyer within 10 days who will tell you "Why yes, Lily, you can absolutely copyright these videos of yours full of footage that belong to Viacom, Netflix, Amazon, Toei Animation, Dreamworks, Activision-Blizzard, and many more!"

[the-wild-candy]

How would your future spouse feel right before saying "i love you"

𓄼ꕤ༘ Pick-a-card reading 𓄼ꕤ༘

➳ In this reading, I will be looking at how your future spouse will be feeling right before saying "i love you" to you. This will be followed by a vision of the moment they'll feel this way as well as a channeled letter of their thoughts and messages for you. You can listen to the songs mentioned in your particular pile since they might have some messages which will resonate for you specifically.

➳ How to pick a pile - I want you to close your eyes and imagine an aura, a painting, or maybe even a face which you think reminds you of your future partner/spouse. Once you've done that, take a deep breath, open your eyes and the picture which grabs your attention the most, is your pile.

➳ Please note that none of my readings are gender specific. I have mentioned energies and not genders.

➳ This is for entertainment purposes only. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

➳ Credit to pinterest for these pictures.

➳ Please leave feedback, it's always helpful!

Pile 1

Vision - the masculine energy is taking something out of the cupboard while stealing glances at the feminine energy. She is unaware of what's happening, and a little blinded to what's going on in the masculine's head. As the masculine gathers up courage to say it to the feminine, they stare in each other's eyes, the feminine smiles, gives them a kiss and leaves the room. The masculine remains tight lipped.

Their channeled thoughts and messages for you -

"My hands are shaking, but I have never been so sure in my life before. I can sit and stare at you for hours. Time stills when I look at you. Thank you for becoming my friend first, and thank you for seeing the greener side over the demons which held me in their grasp. I have contemplated my decisions, and i have feel discouraged. But I've never been so sure. You bring me power. You make me want to paint all the walls in the colors which describe you the best. You make me want to move out of my comfort zone. Can you see it in my eyes if I don't say it? I am fumbling, i know I will fumble. You ring the bells in my heart. You look pretty even when you're asleep. Do you feel the same way? You make me see the flowers on treeless branches. You bring me out of my laziness. Every route, and every path that I end up taking, i hope I cross by you each and every time. You bring me back to life. I only want you. And yet, I'm so scared. You enthrall me".

How would they feel before saying "i love you" to you?

Your future spouse will certainly be scared. They are extremely scared of upsetting you. However, right before they say "i love you", to you, they'll feel hesitant. They are scared of you leaving them and something holds them back from saying it to you. It's like they know you are right there, and yet they shut their eyes closed. I can see that your partner will take a lot of time to clear out what they feel. They will have these highs and lows wherein at one moment they'll jump right in, mustering all the courage which exists in their whole being and the next moment they'll shut their brains off. Because after the moment of hesitancy, they move on to thinking about the past and the future and they don't take into consideration what they have to cherish in th present moment.

This all will feel like an illusion to your future spouse. It's like something truly mystical, as in, are you really really there? But then comes a wave of optimism and passion which is then followed by a feeling of introspection and backing away from what they were just about to do. The time when your divine counterpart realises that all of it is true, and it's confirmed, that's when they'll know for sure that they are near to close to saying all that they feel to you. But this doesn't end here. It's possible that you two can face a rough patch or a period of seperation. This doesn't have to be a breakup. I feel like your future spouse is afraid of you leaving them after they say "i love you". I am hearing "i would cry rivers if it would make you happy". They really just want to see you happy. They are only scared of you not being there in their life. Your future spouse can be possessive of you. They want to hold you as close to them possibly. That's the reason why they'll feel this nervous and scared before saying anything to you.

Pile 2

Y'all, this pile literally made me feel giddy inside pls 😭💀

Vision - it looks like a houseparty. The house is pretty luxurious. The masculine and feminine counterparts are standing together watching the party unfold that they hosted. It looks like there's a huge terrace or a balcony where the guests are hanging out. It's night time, and the color blue is pretty prominent. The masculine and feminine energies have bought this house together. While standing together, having a rich beverage, they make eye contact and smile. It seems like both of them know what the other person is feeling but no one has said anything yet.

Their channeled thoughts and messages for you -

"Things are changing, and these changes have shown me what you mean to me. Even if the ocean drowns me and people think I am afloat, i know you'd be the only one to come through. I am the same person I was. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for standing by me when everyone erased themselves from my life. Sometimes, i just need to pause. It's the stillness that this unmoving, and shattering times bring to you. And during this stillness, I've seen you for you. Your eyes are beautiful, take care of them. You'll hold my hand, won't you? I would take you home, and ask your parents for blessings. I would do everything. I would go the long way. I'll be your audience in this show that life is. Im here, I'm here to support you. Im here to catch you. If your feet ever hurt, I'll rub them for you. You are your own person and I am so proud of you for it. I'll be your biggest support system. I'll sing songs for you. The rhythms I'll make will be derived from your name. We're meant to be. We're divine counterparts. I know you know it. I've seen it in your eyes. Don't hold back. Because I know I won't. Let me hold onto your body, let's admit it together. Every doubt or distraction that crosses me, I'll erase that. This is true love. We're meant to be. You know it".

How would they feel before saying "i love you" to you?

Your future spouse might realise their true feelings for you when y'all are with your friends or celebrating something together. That'll be the moment that they'll be the most decisive. Literally no doubts, no hesitancy. I am hearing, "If I say I love you, I mean that I love you". I feel like the moment that they realise this, they'll start finding rings you would like. They'll start planning a proposal right away and they will put in the effort required for that. I am seeing that this charging and yet sweet energy of immediately finding the perfect ring for you will bring them some anxiousness but they'll rise above from it later. Your person will make sure to remove all distractions that come in front of them. (I wrote this sentence in present tense at first, it's possible that for a very very few bunch of you, this manifested conection is going to come into play very soon). Your future spouse is ready to make compromises for you.

This reading looks more like what all they're ready to do for you rather than their feelings but that's what it really is all about isn't it? They are putting their thoughts and feelings into action. The crushing responsibility which might come their way due to this huge decision of marrying someone as beautiful as you isn't something they are scared of. Yes, they are aware of it but not afraid. They want to travel the world with you. They want you two to have kids together (if that's what you want ofc). Your future spouse will feel and acknowledge you being their equal counterpart. They love the balance you two create. They have no doubts, just pure feelings. For like one of you out there (someone who likes birds), your future spouse would get you a bird or propose you in a way which will include your favourite bird or something like that. They honestly seem impatient that they are not marrying you yet. Again, fast moving energy. Your soulmate isn't going to wait much to say "i love you" to you once they realise it. What a sweet energy, pile 2!

Pile 3

Vision - i was seeing two visions here. The first is when the masculine energy stumbles inside a room drunk, and whole they're drunk, it's like everything the feminine energy means to them flashes in front of their eyes and overwhelms them. In the second energy, i am seeing that the masculine energy is sick and the feminine energy is taking care of them. In that moment, the realisation dawns upon each of them about their true feelings towards each other. I am also hearing "parents", so this could either mean that you both could already be parents, or you'll be pregnant with a child. This could also mean involving your parents and letting them know how serious you are about each other. However, i do feel that it's the latter for most of you but take it how it resonates.

Their channeled thoughts and messages for you -

"Please don't leave me here, don't strip this feeling away from me. You are my priced possession, i promise it's not as bad as it sounds. You are the power, the source which brings me healing. I don't know what to say, i don't know how to say it. It's been a long time now, and i feel so much. Those words slash my own throat away and the all that seep down my bones is your love. That got a little intense, I'm sorry. I worry about you. I need you, but I don't know how. You make me smile. The idea of not being with you tears me apart. Don't go. Don't leave me, okay? Please. You still give me butterflies. Should I go and pluck flowers for you? Would you like that? God, i don't know how to handle this. You know, we've got a bright future. How about i say it out loud to you on the rooftop under the stars? Is this too good to be true? The thought of you makes me go crazy. I'd die just to see that smile again. I fell for you harder than i intended to. Here, i can make playlists for you, with your favourite songs. Would that be a hint enough? At first, I didn't wanna believe that I could fall this hard, and i didn't wanna believe in it but I'm stuck in a never ending loop. Please don't be sceptical. Please don't break my heart".

How would they feel before saying "i love you" to you?

For some of you, your person is dyslexic. They are afraid of getting their heart broken by you. They fantasize about having a future with you, they want to marry you and they want to give all of themselves to you. Your person could have had bad past relationships which settled in this anxiousness in them. It's like anxiousness combined with adrenaline, almost like it's hard for them to breathe. Your person could be with someone right now. Your future spouse struggles to talk about their emotions sometimes. Their thoughts were chaotic, there's so much going on. They know the way they're feeling but what scares them is the fact that they might lose you forever. Your person really loves you and needs you, pile 3. I feel like despite this anxiousness, your spouse will gather up the courage to tell you that they love you in the most romantic way possible.

I am hearing petals - and they did mention something about plucking flowers in their messages, perhaps they could do something with that. You could have a past life connection with this person. They want a huge family with you, they want to take goofy pictures with you. They are afraid that their feelings won't be reciprocated. They see you as the empress while they are just a knight falling in love. Your future spouse is also someone who is financially well off. They are the type of person who would spot you with ease in a crowded room. Your partner can be poetic, but not in literal sense. They might not express much but when they talk about their feelings for you, it's no less than poetry. I am also seeing that kisses on the forehead can be your thing. Your spouse would calm themselves down and offer all of themselves to you when they tell you that they love you. They would feel that you've locked yourself up in their heart and they just don't want you to leave. They could throw a lavish party for you before admitting that they love you. I am also hearing "a summer breeze". You are magical to them, and they would ponder upon their feelings, think it through, spend some nights thinking about you and then finally say "i love you".

© the-wild-candy All rights reserved 2023

I don't allow anyone to plagiarize or rewrite the content produced by me.