#If you have ideas to make it better then I certainly encourage you to do so

[silkenedstars]

How They React To PDA

₊✦Honkai: Star Rail | Various Characters x Gn!Reader✦₊

Additional Notes: this was originally going to be just Sunday but then I thought “why not make this multiple characters instead?” so here I am now

In private, Sunday is usually fine with anything, but in public? Oh no no no no no, you better not!

The kisses he would’ve received with a relaxed smile in private are suddenly needles that you're trying to prick his skin with— that’s how he treats it anyway. But will he move away? No, he’ll just grumble about you being affectionate in public and maybe mutter a complaint depending on the context, but that’s all you’ll get.

But if you ever pull away, thinking that he’s uncomfortable? He’ll immediately pout. It’s subtle, sure, but it’s definitely there as he waits for you to return to what you were doing a minute ago. He will move on eventually, but he'll also remember what you did because he's petty like that.

✿❀✿

It’d be a miracle to get Blade somewhere public in the first place. Try as you might, it just won’t happen. But in the hypothetical situation that you get him somewhere public? He barely reacts to it.

The most you’ll get is a grumble, maybe even hear him mumble how “this isn’t the time” if you do it during a mission, but does he bother to stop you? No, he lets you do as you please so long as it’s not putting the mission in jeopardy.

He’ll even help you out a little with it. You’re struggling to kiss his cheek because he’s too tall? He’ll sigh before leaning down to make kissing his cheek easier, but not too much so you'll still have to stand on your tip-toes to kiss him.

After all, if you want to be affectionate with him, then you can wait until the two of you make it back and can spend private time together.

✿❀✿

Jiaoqiu’s all too happy to accept your affection and return it in equal amounts. He might even get too preoccupied with you and forget about what he was supposed to do. You’re his beloved after all, it would be a shame not to spoil you or let you spoil him for a minute longer, no?

But truthfully, it’s all just a way for him to distract himself from the horrors that haunt his mind each day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, indulging himself in your presence seems to be the only way he could divert his attention from the past and to the present instead, where you are with him.

No longer does he need to fear closing his eyes and risk seeing images of the soldiers he nursed returning to the battlefield just to die, not when you’re here, holding him in your arms.

He can afford a moment of peace when he's with you and that's all that matters to him, even if it's just for a second.

✿❀✿

Whether there’ll be people around to witness the publicly displayed affection is its own question, but if you ever find yourself in a situation like that then Kafka certainly won’t shy away from your touch.

If anything, she’ll encourage you and return your affection to a degree.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, she’ll pull you close until your body is pressed against hers and kiss your forehead, cheek, nose, or lips; the first place that her lips touch, all the while she whispers praises into your ear for every bit of affection you return.

She'll make a show of it too, making sure that the others around you get the idea that you're hers and that she's yours.

Unfortunately, she might have to stop you at some point if the two of you are in the middle of a mission or have one that’ll start soon.

✿❀✿

With her, it’s… hard to tell.

One day she’ll react by freezing up before bursting into laughter and leaning into your touch, another day she’ll pounce on you and smother you by kissing all over your face, and another day she’ll chase you around for daring to try to hold her hand.

Regardless of what reaction she gives you, she does like being affectionate in public since it gives her a ton of opportunities to entertain herself, you and any other passerby with.

Mostly you and herself, though.

✿❀✿

Ruan Mei isn’t a fan of crowds, nor does she enjoy it when attention is drawn to her. It’s safe to say that you won’t really find opportunities to shower her with your affection in public, but in the rare chance that you do? She’ll simply sidestep your attempt at kissing her and move on like nothing happened.

Fortunately, it’s only really kissing and hugging that earns this reaction. If you want to hold hands, then she won’t mind so long as it’s not getting in the way of her tasks or research… unless you’re the type to swing your hands, then she won’t let you.

The only time she’ll let you hug or touch her in “public” is when there’s no one around. Otherwise, you’ll have to stick to holding her hand... if you still have that option.

✿❀✿

[sluttywonwoo]

they wanna (fuck)

pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe

summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking

word count: 3.2k

your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.

it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.

“why vernon?” you’d asked.

“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

“and he told you this?”

“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”

“and have you asked him about this?”

“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”

“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”

joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”

-

you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.

joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.

“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”

his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”

“what? how does that work?”

“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”

it was your turn to be flustered.

joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.

you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”

he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”

-

when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…

“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.

“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.

you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”

he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”

you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”

“fair enough.”

he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.

“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”

“is that ok?” vernon asks you.

“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.

he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.

you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.

vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.

he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.

“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.

“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”

his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.

everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.

your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.

“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.

vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.

the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.

“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”

you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.

“can i eat her out?”

your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.

“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”

you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.

vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”

you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“how’re you doing, baby?”

“good,” you say through a hazy smile.

“yeah? his fingers feel good?”

“mhm…”

“i bet his mouth will too.”

you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?

you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.

“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.

you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.

“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.

you roll your eyes. “shua…”

“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”

“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”

joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.

he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.

it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.

it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.

you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.

he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.

“is he that good?”

you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”

between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.

joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.

"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.

vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.

they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.

"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.

"i know," your boyfriend mutters.

"lucky bastard."

joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”

you nod with a smile. “mhm.”

“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”

“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”

“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.

“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.

you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.

“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.

“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.

joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”

“like if this goes well, right?”

joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.

vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.

he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.

"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.

"that's not true!" you protest.

"it's a little true," joshua insists.

vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.

"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.

joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."

you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.

"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.

"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."

"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."

"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.

vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.

"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.

vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.

"are you ready?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"

the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.

"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"

"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."

"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.

"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.

"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.

he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.

vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.

"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.

"yeah, please. please fuck me."

he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.

"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"

"th-this is good," you say.

"rub her clit," joshua adds.

"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.

he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.

"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.

"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.

"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.

"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"

he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."

joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"

"what?"

your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.

"for real?"

joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.

vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.

you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.

vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.

"told you."

"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.

"you can cum whenever you want."

"but sh-she hasn't yet..."

"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"

"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.

"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.

he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.

he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.

"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"

"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."

he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.

"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."

[wonder-worker]

I wanted to make a more detailed post on Henry VI, but going by my record of unfinished posts, that's probably not going to happen anytime soon :( So here's another small excerpt from a contemporary letter which I think is very revealing, and which I personally haven't ever seen historians quote before.

From Ghent, on the 4th of April 1461 (CSPM):

"The king here [Henry VI] ordered King Edward as a traitor and rebel to the crown to return to his obedience. King Edward replied that he was no traitor, but the rightful king, and if he came to show obedience he would leave something to be remembered. For this the king here [Henry] had the messenger beheaded. The new king, enraged at this act, promised to have the noblest head from among the king's followers."

...This is a very different image of Henry VI and his role in the Wars than what we're used to seeing, both in general histories of the period and in pop culture-esque media. What is presented here is a power play between two kings, and Henry was clearly the one in charge of his own side: he declared his rival king a traitor, ordered him to return to obedience, and beheaded the royal messenger as a symbolic and literal punishment. While the Yorkists may have framed Henry as, in the words of George Neville, "a puppet of a king", trying to downplay his role for their own political benefit, reports like this give us the clear impression that their claims seem to have been very different from reality.

We don't objectively know if this incident actually happened, though it most likely did. But as I mentioned earlier, what's more important is what it tells us about the impression contemporaries actually had of Henry VI's role. It's a far cry from the popular idea of a "role-reversal" between him and Queen Margaret: the image of her as a figure of superior authority taking charge of a passive and incapable Henry is non-existent in this letter, which instead shows Henry as the decision-maker. Again, if Margaret was truly believed to be the one in charge, contemporaries would have surely drawn attention to her: they had no problem emphasizing her role during Henry's capture in 1460, or when they were separated in the decade after. When they were specifically together, however, sources like these give us a different impression. This matches the letters I quoted earlier about Berwick and indicates that contemporaries reporting ongoing events clearly regarded Henry as the active leader of his side. (What you think of his actual capabilities or the wisdom of his decisions is not relevant).

Here's another example that shows us that Henry was perceived as being clearly involved in resistance to Yorkist rule. It's about the conspiracy backed by the Earl of Oxford in 1464, which was quickly foiled by the Yorkists and led to a bunch of people getting their heads chopped off. It's written by Antonio Della Torre, Edward IV and Warwick's own envoy:

"Their plan was as follows : to follow the king [Edward] as his servants towards the North, as his Majesty was not going to take more than a thousand horse and their two thousand or more, and once among the enemy they were to attack the king and murder him and all his followers . In the mean time the Duke of Somerset, who was at Bruges and is still there, was to descend upon England, and King Henry was also to come with the Scots, and the Earl of Pembroke from Britanny."

We get a similar impression as the ones above. The idea that Henry was sitting passively and doing nothing while his queen and allies tried to win back his throne for him just doesn't hold up: Edward IV's own envoy tells us that he, Somerset and Jasper Tudor were working together to try and take down the Yorkists and were coordinating an attack that they would all (including Henry in his own right) be involved in. Again, away from Yorkist propaganda which de-emphasized his role for their own political purposes, Henry's role and involvement as King (or deposed King trying to win back his throne) was demonstrably recognized by most contemporaries.

In general, I think historians tend to gloss over primary sources like this because they're more "standard". Henry's doing what he (by the requirements of his time period) "should" be doing, and so it's not viewed as provocative or worthy of mention. But that's exactly why it should be highlighted more. When we speak of Henry's illnesses, of his capture in 1460 and post 1465, of his role after he was technically released in 1470-71 (I say technically because he was under the Nevilles' control during that time), we're speaking of very unique situations which cannot be used to extrapolate his role and actions, or Margaret of Anjou's role and actions, or their political dynamic with each other (ie: a "role-reversal"), under more "ordinary" circumstances. Sources like these are the ones that matter far more in that aspect.

*Two other things to point out:

Re the idea of Henry being a "puppet of a king": the fact of the matter is that his enemies had very real political reasons such framing him in such a manner; their claims can't necessarily be taken at face-value and viewed as the default "truth" about Henry's actual role and involvement in politics at the time. This applies for 1461-65 and also for the late 1450s (where government records prove without a doubt that Henry VI was involved in ruling the country, while being heavily advised/handheld by his council and advisors. Things like Loveday, and the Yorkist trial referenced in the 1459 attainder, also make it clear that he was ultimately the one deciding policies towards the Yorkists. I do think Margaret became more active in asserting royal interests - their letters in support of John Hals make it clear - and she was involved in running the crown prince's lands, but I'm not sure we can unquestionably claim that there was some kind of "role-reversal" between them, or that Margaret was actually the one ruling England and deciding policies, during that time. Ultimately, it's a lot more speculative and uncertain than that - and Henry was nowhere near as inactive as is often assumed. Evidence is clear that he did make decisions and involve himself in administration and military. And if this is the case - which it is - then the question arises: what was the point of a role reversal in the first place? Margaret is usually credited with assuming leadership because of a passive and ineot Henry, but we now know that he was not passive. So we can and should question the idea of her needing to take charge at all.

While this narrative of passivity has stuck the most with Henry VI, it's important to remember that he was far from the only King to be framed in such a manner. Mang others were as well, in different-yet-ultimately-similar ways. Like I said, it was a very convenient narrative to use by political enemies to downplay and diminish the position and authority of the king when they were trying to oppose him. For Henry, he's also affected by the fact that 1) he ultimately lost his throne twice, 2) he was constrained and controlled by York on different occasions in the late 1450s and by the Nevilles in 1470-71, 3), he was out of action from late 1460 to early 1461 and from 1465-70, which made Margaret take the leading role in the Lancastrian cause, and 4) Tudor efforts to promote his piety and canonize him as a saint relied on narratives of passivity rather than action. Put together, the way Henry viewed in general histories, though frustrating, is not especially surprising. However, to get a better picture of his actions when he actually was capable of making them, and to understand how his role was actually perceived by contemporaries away from Yorkist propaganda, these few excerpts I've posted are probably some of the most reliable sources we have.

...This was supposed to be just a few paragraphs long, rip. But either way - this is just my own analysis & opinion, feel free to agree or disagree (or both!). But I thought these few things were worth pointing out - at least, they definitely gave me a very different impression of Henry's - and by extension Margaret's - role in the early 1460s, which can perhaps also be considered when analyzing them in the late 1450s as well :)

Friendly reminder that Francesco Coppino and Prospero di Camulio, contemporaries who were literally getting their information from predominantly Yorkist circles, were both explicitly clear that it was Henry VI who decided to surrender Berwick to Scotland.

Camulio: "King Henry has given away a castle [town] called Berwick, which is one of the keys of the frontier between England and Scotland." Coppino: "[Scotland has] received from the same Henry the town of Berwick, on the frontiers of Scotland, which the Scots have long claimed as their right from the English, as the excellently well furnished guardian of their frontiers, and the place to which King Henry repaired as an asylum after the battle."

The idea that Margaret of Anjou was principally involved in the surrender, or that she was the one who actually made the decision, is based on nothing but assumption. Two direct contemporaries, both speaking of ongoing events as they unfolded, who were both getting information from Yorkist-held England, both clearly believed it was Henry who was responsible for this course of action. Neither of them mention Margaret. Sure, you can argue that it was merely rhetorical, and that they were simply automatically attributing such an important decision to the King rather than the queen - but rhetoric is nonetheless extremely important and helps us understand how historical figures were perceived at the time. Margaret's enemies would surely not have hesitated to broadcast her involvement had it actually been true, and Coppino in particular had shown no qualms about criticizing her in favor of the Yorkists before. If she was genuinely believed to have been responsible, and if the Yorkists were actually claiming that she was at the time, I see no reason why Coppino or Camulio would not have emphasized her role in their letters. What these samples instead indicate is literally the opposite: that their contemporaries - probably including the Yorkists who were putting out the information that Coppino and Camulio reported - actually believed that Henry was the one making the decision. I think it's a very large and very unnecessary stretch to go against actual evidence and claim otherwise by placing the responsibility on Margaret instead.

Additionally, these small samples may also reveal what people at the time - once again including the Yorkists - actually thought of Henry's role in the war on a broader level, away from direct Yorkist propaganda which would obviously and perhaps understandably seek to de-emphasize it: namely, that Henry was perceived as the one making decisions and deciding the courses of action for his own side.

Source: Excerpts from the Calendar of State Papers and Manuscripts, Existing in the Archives and Collections of Milan

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[dumbofass-homo]

I've been thinking about how Halsin is always the caretaker.

He takes care of nature, but that's obvious. He takes care of a bunch of orphaned kids in the endgame. He took care of the grove, healed people, took in refugees. He cares about Tav (even if he is not Tav's partner) and the rest of the weirdos in the party. He cares.

It's so easy to forget that he is also a person that needs caring for. He is large and always has his emotions under control, so people tend to brush off his needs, sometimes subconsciously. And he is used to it, living for as long as he has.

It even shows in the fanart and fanfics - he is almost always the one to offer support and encouragement, emotional or otherwise. In the smutty works, he is almost exclusively the top, caring for his partners'pleasure.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this or what I'm trying to say, but I think he would just melt if his partners and/or companions would slowly start taking things off his shoulders.

The children want bedtime stories? Astarion will do you one better. He will act out the heroic victory over a certain vampire with so much flare he will be the talk of the settlement for days to come. He most certainly didn't do that to get the kids off Halsin's bear back and most definitely doesn't enjoy his new fans.

Lae'zel isn't affectionate, no, not at all. It's just that when she sees how dull his blades are, it infuriates her. Definitely. So she takes them, along with his armor and polishes everything to perfection, just like she would her own. The githyanki cannot allow their metal to be in less than perfect condition, you see.

New refugees came to the settlement and Tav gets them settled, shows them the place they've built and makes sure they know they're safe. The newcomers are a little baffled that one of the saviors of Baldur's gate is so normal, and it gives them reassurance. Tav wants to make sure not everyone needs to look to Halsin for the smallest things.

In the midst of the shadow curse, despite their animosity, Shadowheart infuses several items around camp with light. She knows he must miss the sun.

In Rivington, Gale scouts for ingredients for a certain cake. He can't find what he's looking for, the settlement is very short on sweets. But with his little eye (and a bit of magic) he finds a honey bee hive. A few blisters and agry bees later - a small honeycake is done, served with tea. Gale didn't want to make assumptions but Tav had told him their favorite bear loves honey.

On a particularly dreadful night, Wyll invites Alfira to play them a few tunes. He goes from person to person and gets them to their feet to do a little dance. Halsin is sure he has two left feet so he is reluctant to try - but everyone cheers and encourages him so he does, peer pressure be damned. He steps on Wyll's feet and has no idea how to move his body in sync, but Wyll isn't phased by it. He moves and twirls him around and Halsin is sure that looks absolutely ridiculous - but he is having fun, for the first time in a long time.

[professor-beaker]

(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

[thesoftestmess]

Thinking about focalors saying furina's humanity is what made her perfect, but sending her on a 500 years long quest where she had to divorce herself from her humanness every single day anew.

Furina having to keep up a show of distance to humanity and having to put herself above her fellow humans, while encouraging Neuvillette, who has never been human, to mingle with them and learn to understand them.

Focalors inviting Neuvillette into the palais and knowing damn well something as strong as Furina's love and care for humans will inevitably rub off on him and there's nothing he could do about it.

Focalors loving and admiring humanity so much that she trusted herself, her human form, enough that not even a mighty ancient dragon could exist for centuries next to Furina's deeply kind and compassionate heart and be immune to it.

It wasn't only time that made Neuvillette unable to declare fontainians guilty after everything. It undoubtedly was also his Lady Furina meeting personally with her citizens, throwing big social banquets on her birthdays and visiting the sick and elderly in their homes.

Caring about the young and the old, remembering their names and bloodlines and their countless life stories.

There's something so special about the theme of humanness between Furina and Neuvillette and how it binds them together not just by fate, but by heart.

There's something special about him spending 500 years by the side of a human unknowingly, and it inevitably turning him into their ally, while Furina has no idea she's making it happen.

Loving humans comes naturally to her and this part of her could never be drowned out, not even by a painfully lonely and straining act of authority and godship.

There's something so heartbroken in Neuvillette's voice when he learns about her sacrifice and really, how could he ever declare humanity guilty for their mere existence when Furina was by his side sacrificing everything and then some for them for four centuries, regardless of how they treated or talked about her?

How could he ever leave her and her people to a doomed fate?

And a part of Furina telling him to get out and mingle with humans feels like she was saying "I know you don't like me much as an archon, but you would've loved me as a human" and she's right.

The moment she drops the act and moves out and goes on her very own healing journey, he falls hard.

Once the heavy presence of fate between them evaporates, he sees her clearly for the first time ever and what he sees is the very best of humanity. One of humanity's kindest and strongest and most determined.

So fragile and exhausted and half-ill from mental torment. Someone who certainly deserves the praises offered to a god, but who wears her human skin so much better.

Wears her heart on her sleeve, just like all her insecurities and flaws.

There's no act, no big secret, no impending doom hanging over their heads now, but she's further from Neuvillette's side than she's ever been and it makes him yearn for her in a way he doesn't know is utterly human.

And she's lying awake with the very same feeling.

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[teamatsumu]

Please, PLEASE do a Time skip Kuroo x reader where he's like obsessed with chubby girls. And like you're kinda insecure, but he fixes that up by ramming into you? No worries if you can't, but I would owe you my life if you did. Thank youuuu 😚

proof. (kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader)

word count: 1467

warnings: chubby!reader, smut, nsfw, swearing, office sex

taglist: @keiva1000

There wasn��t a lot about Kuroo’s job that he enjoyed. His boss was overbearing, his team didn’t take him seriously very often, and the pay was almost laughable. But if he had to count the positives, you would be high up on the list.

Plenty of women at Kuroo’s job had sizable crushes on him, he was well aware. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy their attention a bit, if the signature smirk on his face was anything to go by. He would wink at them when he came to get coffee from the break room, and they would dissolve into obnoxious giggles. He was still just a guy after all. And he liked the attention. But you would roll your eyes and make a gagging motion from your place by the table, which would thankfully go unnoticed by them. What would go unnoticed by you were Kuroo’s catlike eyes, trained on you as you poured coffee for yourself as well.

Kuroo had a vice. And that was women like you.

He felt like his vision was permanently glued to the curve of your ass, waiting for you eagerly during break times, just to watch you stand up from your chair, giving him a full view of your backside in your fitted office skirt. He would bite his lip when you walked past, swerving in his chair to follow your figure all the way to the end of the room, humming in satisfaction as your hips swayed. He wanted to grope you so bad, but that would be crossing a boundary that would most certainly get him fired. Unless you were into it….?

His ruminations would halt abruptly when you would reappear in his line of sight, his eyes fixed to your thighs this time. God, sinful sinful thighs. Thick and full, begging to be gripped until they bruised. Kuroo wanted to spread them apart and shove his face between them, wanting to breathe you in and bury his tongue inside you. He bet you tasted so sweet, and he bet you would let out the prettiest little moans as your thighs crushed his head, trembling and shaking.

Man. He was getting hard again.

He often wondered what it would be like to fuck you. To feel your warm, soft figure against his. To grip every bit of fat on your body as it squished pliant under his touch. He had no idea how quickly his dream would come true, that very Friday actually, after the sun had gone down and everyone had left, leaving you two to finish up a project that was due Monday.

Your whines and moans were ten times better than whatever fantasies lived in his head. Your face burned red, eyes so hesitant, darting around everywhere in fear of being caught, yet your hand was tangled in his hair, encouraging how he lapped at your neck, breathing in your wonderful flowery scent. Kuroo pressed his throbbing erection into your plush thigh, groaning at how good you felt. His hands hadn’t stopped wandering, feeling every bit of you like you were going to disappear, like he was going to wake up and realize this was another wet dream about you to add to the ones he had been having for months. How many times had he dreamt of this? Having you perched on his desk with him standing between your parted legs?

“Tetsu…” Fuck. Yeah, there was no way this was a dream.

Kuroo hooked a hand under your knee, pulling it up and apart, which made you let out a cute little moan. He felt you stiffen up against him, making him pause just enough to look up at you. Your face was flushed, some strands from your normally immaculate hair now pulled loose to stick to your heated, sweaty face. You looked so messy, your well-pressed white button-up now disheveled, almost all the way undone to make your boobs spill out, covered in pretty white lace. You were a vision, and Kuroo struggled to not bust right there on the spot.

Your eyes were tinged with worry, hesitancy, and it made Kuroo pause. He leaned closer, nudging his nose with yours slightly to get your attention and snap you out of your thoughts. You seemed caught off guard at the gesture, blinking up at him in surprise.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head, sweets?”

You bit your lip in contemplation, and Kuroo’s eyes immediately shot down to the movement. Your teeth dug into the pink cushion of your lip, and Kuroo licked his own subconsciously. You didn’t seem to notice.

“Are- are you sure about this?” Your voice was quiet, as if you were fearful. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Are you not?”

You paused and frowned at him. “Don’t answer my question with a question!”

Kuroo stared at you for a few more seconds, long enough to make you squirm under his sharp gaze. He could see now that his mind was clearer, that your hesitation was originating from your insecurity. The thought baffled him, considering he was so, so attracted to you that it made him dizzy. But he could also see where you were coming from. The notion of you doubting yourself annoyed him. It just wouldn’t do. It seemed he would have to show you just how much he wanted this.

Kuroo tugged at the leg he was still holding, pulling you close to the edge of the desk abruptly and causing you to yelp. You immediately dissolved into a moan when he ran his tongue up your neck in a thick stripe, using one hand to free his cock from his pants. It was thick and throbbing, but Kuroo ignored it in favor of pushing a hand under your skirt, bunching it up around your full hips and running his knuckles over the rough lace of your panties. You gasped at the feeling and Kuroo felt his mouth twitch into a smirk, nibbling at your earlobe.

Your pussy was hot under his touch, and so so wet. Kuroo bit back a groan when he pushed the crotch of your panties aside, swiftly sliding a finger knuckle deep into you. You moaned loudly and arched into him at the action. You were tight as fuck, and Kuroo reeled at the thought of how you would feel wrapped so snug around his cock. It hit him like a freight train, sending all his blood rushing down south and breaking his patience. He hurriedly pulled his finger out, leaning forward to plant his lips on yours to muffle your protesting whine. He kept his mouth firmly against yours as he spread your legs more with both hands, one reaching down to grip his cock before steadily bullying it into your hot cunt.

He didn’t stop until his hips pressed flush against yours, eyes rolling up in his head at the feeling of your warm, pulsating core. You felt divine, like nothing he could ever imagine or replicate with his own hand as he masturbated to you in the shower. No, this was a hundred times better. And when he pulled back only to slam his cock into you once more, feeling your soft body arch into his torso, Kuroo was sure he had died and gone to heaven. And he was planning to prolong his stay in this heaven for as long as he could.

He set a fast, rough pace, unable to hold back and chasing the feeling of your tight walls dragging over his dick over and over. You whimpered and cried in his arms as he gripped your love handles, reveling in the feeling of them, nearly cooing when you curled your body into him, as if molding yourself to his frame. He encouraged it, not wanting even an iota of space between the two of you.

“You see?” He moaned into your mouth. “See how bad I wanted this? God, your cunt is so amazing, sweets. Love the way you squeeze around me. So wet and tight. You’re so sexy-”

Kuroo was cut off by your whine, your hands fisting into his shirt to pull him impossibly closer. Encouraged by your actions, Kuroo sped up, ramming into you hot and fast, big hands covering your even bigger thighs until you were sweet and pliant under him, until your pussy clenched hard around him and you came without warning, wetness coating his pelvis and wetting his clothes as well. Kuroo groaned at the feeling, at how slick the sounds got as he continued fucking into you with no signs of stopping, even as you slumped against him, breathless.

He wasn’t done with you. Oh, he hadn’t even properly started yet.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.37

Summary: Wednesday knows, without a doubt, that you weren't the suspect everyone thought you were. And your date nights were getting rather interesting, but she's not entirely convinced about this new date idea.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, grief, past trauma, child abuse (in the past) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Don’t even think about it.”

Wednesday sighed and pulled her hand back from the bag you were refusing to let her carry. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because you were being chivalrous. It was the second week after your therapist had gone missing, and you were still upset with her. She didn’t like it.

“I have already apologised,” she said as she walked behind you. “What more do you want from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said in a faux sing-song voice that she had heard you use with Ash before. “Maybe to have my girlfriend not assume I’m stupid enough to kill my therapist?”

“No one has claimed you were stupid,” she said.

“And yet no one has agreed that I wouldn’t kill my therapist,” you finished a little too quickly.

She followed behind you, trying to open the door but you wouldn’t move aside for her. Instead, you turned the doorknob with your elbow after more than a few failed attempts and entered the apartment. At least Wednesday had the opportunity to close the door behind you both.

“No one believes you killed him,” she said as she tried to help you put up groceries. All it took was one look before she stepped back. If you were determined to be so stubborn, then she was determined to let you.

“Oh yeah?” You said; you practically threw the apples into the fruit drawer. “Because Bianca didn’t seem too disbelieving of it.”

“Bianca is ignorant,” she said quickly. “Additionally, she never claimed it was you, simply questioned your whereabouts.”

You threw the milk into the fridge next; Wednesday would need to make sure you didn’t bust the container. “Which I specifically told you before I left the apartment.”

Wednesday wasn’t foolish. Even though she truly felt you were being absurd, she was not foolish enough to continue the argument when you became so agitated. When you placed your hands on your hips and furrowed your brows. She would never claim to be an expert at reading physical cues, but she certainly knew yours. Or at the very least, she knew yours well enough.

“Anger metre?” She asked.

“Immeasurable.” You sighed and looked down at the floor. “An 8.”

Your hands fell from your hips rather pathetically. It was a look Wednesday hadn’t seen since those years at Nevermore. Back when you were a little too nervous to talk to her like you did now. She remembered it vividly; every time you would try to talk back, she would shut you down, and you would stand there awkwardly like a scolded puppy before walking off.

It almost warmed her cold heart to see you hadn’t grown out of it.

“Am I really that untrustworthy?” You asked; your voice was soft. Horrifically so. “Do people really think I would kill someone?”

Wednesday wasn’t prepared for an emotional conversation. She had been attempting to get you to relax about the accusations, but she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could come of it. A foolish thing, she knew; you were becoming more open about your feelings when they upset you so terribly. It was something she had encouraged in you even though she had never truly thought to grow with you in that regard.

There was no better time than the present, she presumed.

“Can we-,” she sighed, blinking twice before looking back at you, “-can we continue this in the living room?”

You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“You’re letting all the cold air out,” she said.

You frowned before your eyes slowly grew larger. It only took a moment before you shut the door to the fridge, stopping the incessant warning beep that came more often than not when you were in the kitchen. She thought back to when it had started; she had lied to you about the electric bill staying steady after you had panicked. Clearly you took bills more seriously than she had previously thought.

After hearing that it was okay, you hadn’t intentionally left the fridge open each time. It was simply how you were; getting distracted, finally free of the constant nagging and worry about the bills. Yes, Wednesday should have known you would be hyper-aware of such a thing, but she hadn’t imagined you would lose your focus that quickly.

“Come on,” you said quietly, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her into the living room.

Your hand was warm in hers. Even after all this time, after so much physical contact with you, your body heat would surprise her. There was no reason, she had grown accustomed to it long ago. Whether it was simply your hand in hers, your hand pressed against the small of her back, or your body curling around hers at night. You were warm, almost painfully warm, and it was sensational.

Wednesday sat on the couch opposite you, turning just enough to face you. On the other side, you crossed your legs on the couch, looking like an overgrown child. Or she supposed it was more reminiscent of a rather large dog not understanding quite how large they were. Behind you, your wings strained against the confines of not only the loosened harness, but the jacket you had yanked on earlier in the day.

“Do you think I would kill someone.” It wasn’t so much a question anymore; any hesitancy in your voice had long faded. “Be honest.”

Yes. Yes, she did believe you would kill someone. She remembered the fear and anger in your eyes back at Nevermore when that rogue werewolf had gone after you and Eugene. If it had gone after Eugene, you would have killed it without a moment’s hesitation. Add on to that the looks she had seen you give others who attempted to harm - whether emotionally or physically - any of your friends? Yes, she believed without question that you would kill someone.

But not, however, without reason.

“No,” Wednesday lied effortlessly.

“So you believe I didn’t do it?” You asked. “There’s no doubt in your mind that I’m innocent?”

“In this instance, yes.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed at her words. There was an unusual relationship surrounding the both of you and your criminal proclivities. While you wouldn’t fault the other for their activities, you were both incredibly willing to tell the other one if they’re guilty. For instance, you had acknowledged her grave digging scandal from last year. Not with shame, but admiration. On the other hand, she would not hesitate to remind you of your underage, international murder scandal.

It was an exceptionally beautiful relationship.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?” You asked, doe eyes looking up at her through your eyelashes. A faux innocence that did wonders for Wednesday’s imagination.

She shifted in her seat and inhaled deeply. “I taught you better than to leave evidence behind.” You snorted with laughter. “Leaving behind an entire foot is an amateur move at best.”

“And here I thought you’d say I was too kind for murder,” you said. 

Wednesday would have been content to allow the conversation to end as it was. As long as you believed she had faith in your innocence, there wasn’t much else to say. Your anger had appeared to dissipate and there was no need to dwell on the topic. After all, as long as she believed you, could you really be all that upset?

But you still didn’t move from your spot. In fact, you didn’t even move to grab the remote, or to put on some sort of noise in the background of the usual apartment noises. You simply sat there, legs crossed, playing with your fingers. Dread welled up in Wednesday’s chest; she knew those mannerisms.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out long enough for Wednesday to feel not only dread, but pure horror. “Wanna hear my new date idea?”

She sat up straighter, eyes moving around the apartment for nothing in particular. Oh. Well, that wasn’t quite what she had been expecting.

You waited for her to nod once. “Remember when I visited Nicky for Christmas?” She nodded again. “Well, I think I remembered something.”

Another pause as you recollected your thoughts.

“He had this notebook,” you held your hands out like you were holding the object, “or I guess it was a journal.” Your hands squeezed into fists. “He wrote everything in it, and I need to go find it.”

“Why would you need a journal?” She asked.

You sighed. “I think he wrote about everything our parents did and I just- I- I need to know.” Your pupils were blown. “I have to know what happened in that house.”

Wednesday still said nothing.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” you said, “and I need to know what happened before I lose my fucking mind.”

The skin on your knuckles paled as you continued to ball your hands into fists. Even as her outward demeanour remained the same, Wednesday felt the effects of her heart rate increasing. She hadn’t needed Enid to explain what panicking was, though this was getting dangerously close to falling off the ledge of “panic” and into the pool of “desperation.”

If it had been anyone but you, she would have felt humiliated as she so-eagerly reached out to place one of her hands on top of yours. Her small, cold hand couldn’t cover your entire fist. Yet that didn’t seem to matter when she felt the tendons in your hand ease up, and you quickly turned it over until you could lock fingers with hers.

She would never admit such a thing aloud, at least not to anyone but you, but her chest warmed when she was the cause for your relief. It wasn’t the same warmth she felt for selfish reasons; it was vastly different from when she beat Bianca at a game of wits. This was more encompassing, more… more.

“How does that relate to your date idea?” Wednesday asked.

You looked up at her through your lashes again, though your smile was far more mischievous than earlier.

“Wednesday Addams,” you said in a tone that sent a shiver down her spine, “would you like to commit a B&E with me this weekend?”

Now that. That was wholly deserving of her own matching smile. You certainly knew the way to an Addams’ cold heart.

—---

It didn’t take long for Wednesday to realise just how long you had been planning this “date,” or at least something similar.

“They’re never home on weekends,” you said when you dropped the both of you into the yard. “They’re always either at the Catskills, or schmoozing their way through the Senate.”

She admired the way your wings tucked against your back. As much as she hated flying, she wouldn’t deny her fascination with the appendages, especially after the fact. Only when they were still could she see the muscle underneath the feathers and skin; muscle that had to be incredibly dense if they could carry you and her without a larger wingspan.

Maybe it was time she strapped you down and studied your musculature again. Clearly you had grown since the last time.

“There’s a risk doing this in broad daylight, is there not?” Wednesday asked when you stopped underneath a window.

You shook your head without looking away from the house. “Everyone in the area is still sleeping off their hangovers.”

“Cameras?”

“Fake.” You finally looked at her, a certain glimmer in your eye that had Wednesday’s stomach twisting into knots. “They always said just the belief someone was being watched was enough of a deterrent.”

“A foolish mistake,” Wednesday mumbled to herself.

“But helpful for us,” you said with a smile. “The window goes to my room,” you said, locking your fingers together to create a makeshift step. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Silent alarms?” She asked as she placed her hands on your shoulders to steady herself. Your muscles shifted underneath your shirt when you started raising her closer to the window.

“Nope,” you said. “They rely on their fake security cameras and Eddy.”

“Who?” Wednesday asked, her hands stilling on the outside lock of the window. She adored you for saving the lock for her to pick.

“Our security guy,” you said. “He’s sweet, but shit at his job.”

The use of the word “our” did not escape Wednesday’s attention as she pulled herself through the now-unlocked window. It wasn’t often that you would lump yourself into the same group as your parents. More often than not, you attempted to distance yourself as much as possible, even going so far as to call them by their first names. Though she supposed, at the end of the day, they were still your parents no matter what they said or did. You loved too deeply to eliminate them completely.

For the sake of easing her curiosity, she slowly made her way around your room even as the gentle flap of your wings could be heard outside the window. The room itself reminded her of her own room back at Nevermore. Almost no personal items, nothing indicative of who you were. The only thing that would indicate anyone had even lived in the room was a singular photo in a frame; a photo of you and Nicky on a sailboat in a time long forgotten.

“Ready?” You asked over the sound of the window sliding shut. “It’s a quick trip down the hall, unless they moved everything to dad’s office.”

There was an air about you as you crossed the room. After Nicky, you had tended to roam, seemingly without any direction. If someone said jump, you would ask how high. But this was different; you looked like you had a mission and there was a clear physical determination in the set of your shoulders and the glint in your eye.

Wednesday reached out to grab your arm. Your muscles were taut, but quickly relaxed when you looked down at her. She hadn’t forgotten what you were both there to do; she was more than aware of the desperation you kept hidden behind a cocky smile.

It did nothing to ease the growing affection she had for you in that moment. Breaking and entering was a good look for you.

All it took was one firm tug on your arm to pull you down to face level. She simply had to lean forward slightly to kiss you. You were always like putty in her hands when she kissed you. In those moments, she swore you would have done anything she asked, no consideration required. It gave her a sense of control that you so often inadvertently took away.

When she pulled away - though, surprisingly, hesitantly - your eyes fluttered before opening fully. Her amazement at your reaction to her never eased over the days. Back at Nevermore, she had fully believed her body would become accustomed to how you reacted; she had never been so grateful to be wrong.

“If only my parents knew I just kissed a woman in their house,” you said softly, your words tumbling from your lips faster than normal. “They would die from shock.”

Wednesday ignored the flutter of her heart. “Lead the way so we can go home.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a tip of your invisible hat.

You manoeuvred your arm until you could hold her hand, pulling her after you on the way out of your room. Not the best way to stay inconspicuous, but Wednesday had become rather fond of the way her hand felt in yours, so she wouldn’t dare pull away.

The both of you peeked around the doorframe, looking both ways before exiting your room. The house was far too pristine for Wednesday’s liking. How could a family reside in a house with so little belongings? Where was the tapestry of history hanging from the walls? The artefacts that belonged to generations past to symbolise where you came from? Instead they were bare walls, minimalist in a way that even she found tasteless.

It only took a few steps down the hall before you attempted to open the door. The doorknob jiggled, but wouldn’t turn. With a sigh, you pulled Wednesday closer until she had full access to the lock. She was more than aware that you knew how to pick a lock; you had practiced it for weeks after she had mentioned it. But she appreciated your allowing her to have all the fun.

The lock was child’s play; your parents may have been intelligent, but they didn’t appear to take security very seriously. You pulled her with you into the room before turning and closing the door quietly, the click of the lock almost inaudible. She felt the cold air hit her palm as you pulled your hand away.

“Look for a journal,” you said. “A leather one with a black string tied around it.”

You didn’t wait for her to acknowledge your statement before digging around the room. And as much as Wednesday wanted to help, she couldn’t help but watch you. There was a gentleness to your rushed movements, almost as if you were worried you would break something. She knew you still grieved for Nicky even if you didn’t outwardly show it. His items were sacred to you in a way few things were.

“You okay?” You asked, and Wednesday was faced with the humiliation of getting caught staring.

“Of course,” she said, doing her best to sound as uninterested as possible. Unfortunately for her, you had broken her emotionless facade years ago.

Unlike your room, Nicky’s held some semblance of life. Select baseball cards were put in small plastic cases and propped up on the dresser. Under his bed was shoebox after shoebox, filled to the brim with comics, toy cars, marbles, and a menagerie of random Lego pieces. Toys that had been absent from your room.

“I can’t find it,” you said once you finished looking through every inch of the closet. “Just his stupid, stuffy clothes.”

Wednesday was kind enough to ignore the jacket you quickly tied around your waist.

“You mentioned it might be in your father’s office,” she said.

You sighed. “I guess I always did want to see what he hid in there.”

You didn’t grab her hand before leaving the room; she was thankful you couldn’t see her frown at the realisation. But she was quick to follow, closing the door as softly as you had. The new wooden flooring was a blessing, being far too new to make a sound when you snuck down the hall.

The hall opened up to a balcony overlooking the foyer. A large grandfather clock was almost directly below, tick tick ticking away; Wednesday couldn’t imagine hearing the sound every single hour of your life. The marble flooring was beautiful with its golden veins, though it was far from her sense of style. It all looked beyond pristine.

How had you ever managed to live in such a sterile environment?

“Come on,” you whispered, grabbing Wednesday’s hand to pull her away from her staring. “I want to get out of here.”

Your grip on her hand was a little too tight for comfort. You would never hurt her, she knew that, but it was certainly pushing the boundary. She tried to squeeze your hand, only barely managing to do so, but your grip lightened almost instantly.

As hard as she tried, there would be no way for Wednesday to know how you felt about being back in the house. You hadn’t let her know much about what had happened before and after the funeral, but she had seen the damage. The weight loss, the jittery movements, the avoidance. She would admit, she couldn’t recall a time where she had felt so uncomfortable in a location.

It was an unusual feeling, wondering how someone else would feel in a certain situation. It settled deep in her stomach, leaving behind a feeling of… emptiness. Was that how you felt, being in your childhood home once again? Knowing that there were no good memories, only sorrow and grief and a void that you could never fill?

“Y/N?”

You froze, standing up as straight as possible. Wednesday often forgot how tall you were; you took to slouching more often than not. She attempted to see who had called your name, but you quickly stepped in front of her, hiding her from sight.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” you said softly. Your tone was gentle, almost similar to how you talked with your mother. “I promise.”

“Is that her?”

You squeezed her hand. There was a moment where the air was so thick, Wednesday truly thought she would drown in it. Yet another feeling that she was rather unfamiliar with. It only got worse as you stepped aside, turning your body sideways to keep a strategic position between her and this new guest in front of you.

The woman looked homely. She looked older than Wednesday’s own mother, though not as old as Grandmama Addams; the wrinkles on her brown skin gave it away. Even as she dried her hands on the hand towel in her pocket, Wednesday could tell they were well worn from years of use. And yet she still looked at you with a kindness that Wednesday knew you had never gotten from your own mother.

“Mabel,” you said softly, “this is Wednesday.”

Mabel smiled. “You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

The statement left an uncomfortable weight in Wednesday’s chest that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t believe it was because of the statement itself, it was simple enough. No, it could potentially be from the implication? Perhaps it came from knowing that you had talked about her to someone from your past. The same past that she was blind to, that you actively hid from her.

Someone from your past knew about her and it was… frightening.

“We just need in the office,” you said, “and then we’ll be gone.”

Mabel said nothing. She simply stood to the side of the hall, leaving plenty of space for you to pull Wednesday along. There was a moment where Wednesday met her warm brown eyes; they were filled with a look of motherly care. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t touch anything,” you said when you closed the office door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Wednesday didn’t think she could have searched for anything even if you had asked her to. She couldn’t get Mabel’s eyes out of her mind. There was a horrifying amount of tenderness when she looked at you. Your head had been turned too far, but she could imagine the same sentiment had been in your own eyes.

What a world you had lived in. To grow up receiving care not from your actual parents, but from your brother and the family maid. Now, Wednesday was not overly fond of how her own parents showed their affection; they were too forward and extravagant. That did not, however, change the fact that they loved their children with their entire beings.

She walked forward while you were still digging around. You weren’t touching things, just ghosting your fingers over the spines of books, the shelves, hesitating before pulling open the metal filing cabinets. There was the smallest tell in your actions; your hands shook not with anger, but with fear.

Her feet stopped her in front of a small set of shelves covered in awards and framed newspaper clippings. Your father’s winning cases littered the wall, each seeming to receive a more extravagant frame than the last. But right in the middle of all of them was a singular picture frame, a misfit amongst the glory with its chipped black paint.

It was a family picture of all four of you. The lot was bundled up in winter clothes. Your father held skis in his right hand, and a young you in his left. Nicky stood between your parents, and your mother was looking regal as always. A snow capped mountain made for beautiful background scenery, but that wasn’t what Wednesday was focused on.

You were all smiling.

Your voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, telling her not to touch anything. But who was Wednesday to deny her own curiosity? Curiosity sparked new thoughts, new revelations, and she was never one to deny herself such satisfaction. Besides, you were far too busy with your own search, how would you know if she simply picked up the picture to get a closer look-

-her brain didn’t even have time to process the shock before she felt the chill of winter whipping around her. She couldn’t orient herself properly, but she recognised the snowy mountain in front of her. The peal of laughter brought her spinning head to a halt; it was higher pitched, but she would recognise it anywhere.

You were waddling across the snow after Nicky, hands outstretched in front of you. The look on your face was so genuine, so pure, Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure she had ever seen it on your face in all of her own years of knowing you. It was almost a peaceful aura about you, as if nothing had troubled your young mind just yet. Perhaps it hadn’t.

A little further behind the both of you, your parents stood together, smiling down at you. It was different from the polite, professional smiles she had seen on their faces before. These reached their eyes. If she let her mind stretch reality for a moment, she could almost see… love in those smiles.

“Come on, you two,” your mother said in her slightly accented voice. “Let’s get inside before it gets late.”

“Coming!” Nicky called, letting you chase him as you both ran through the snow that was starting to pile higher on the ground.

Wednesday followed along behind the four of you, keeping her distance for better observation. Nicky was quick to get beside your mother, while you stayed beside your father. His hand grabbed yours gently, dwarfing your entire body beside him. The look on his face would have been precious if she hadn’t known how he ended up treating you.

She stayed outside of the small cabin when you all went inside. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would indicate the small fortune that you came from. Simply a secluded cabin on what appeared to be a secluded mountainside. Wednesday could appreciate the small structure even as she stood by the window, peering in.

There was a small fire on the far wall, and Nicky was quick to shed his winter clothes to sit in front of it. Your father stayed behind, helping you out of the clothes that probably weighed more than you did. It amazed Wednesday how someone so small could turn into the absolute giant that you were in the present. 

Your father’s hands were so gentle on your skin. If she didn’t know any better, it would have looked like love. Maybe it was. Perhaps it used to be. Surely there had been a time, much like this, where you had been loved so unconditionally that it reflected off your smile. He was so careful with you, helping you with each layer of clothing as if one wrong move would break you. You were cherished, you were loved, you were cared for.

He helped you take off the last remaining layer aside from your shirt. It stuck to the small coat, pulling up until it caught on your head, and Wednesday felt that uncomfortably familiar weight settle in her chest. Your back, untouched by the traumas of the future, was bare. No wings, no indication of anything that would signify you were anything other than a Normie.

Your parents loved you because you were “normal.”

“Wends?”

The chill of the mountain air disappeared, too quickly replaced by the warmth of your home. It was a painful switch, leaving her fingers tingling and burning at the same time. She pulled her hand back to her side, being careful not to move the picture frame. You were sitting at the desk in the middle of the room, your brows furrowed. The crinkle between your eyes was more prominent than usual.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

She nodded once, hesitantly.

“I can’t find it,” you said with a sigh. “We should head out before it gets too late.”

You didn’t move from the desk, just kept looking at her. And all the while, Wednesday couldn’t ignore the way her heart started to race. Sitting at that desk, with your back ramrod straight and arms resting on the mahogany wood, you looked like someone who belonged there. A completely different person than the one she had unceremoniously fallen for time and time again.

You looked just like your father.

She would never say it aloud.

[cynthiav06]

Do you know something that I find really curious?

Is that in Ancient Greek, Greek Mythology, and Hellenic Polytheism, even tho we don't actually have the idea of "sin" there are a few things they and therefore, hellenic polytheistics shouldn't do, but interestingly enough the only thing that is likely, highly not encouraged to do, and mostly unforgiving in Hellenism, is Húbris.

I find it really interesting and curious, because I bet Rick knew about it when he wrote PJO and still decided to give Annabeth, one of his main characters, a fatal flaw that was the closest thing of what could be considered a "sin" in Ancient Greece (the society he was basing his story on).

I'm not saying "whoa, he wanted to make something." My personal opinion is that he just doesn't care, just like he doesn't care to make a better adaptation of the Gods, but I still find it interesting enough to rant about it.

+ it is really concerning see people treating her fatal flaw as something positive and to be cheered on, even in the literal book narrative, when in fact, It is not.

Excessive pride can be a sign of a narcissist behavior, what can lead to dangerous situations or to toxic relationships. And I see Rick playing too much with this edge in Perccabeth dynamics.

(I'm not saying she is narcissist, tho. I believe I have to make this as clear as possible here. There is a difference of having a trace of narcissism, and be diagnosticaded with it.)

Just to finish my thoughts, when I realized Perccabeth lost all the sparkle for me was when I've read one meta about someone who didn't like Annabeth's behavior towards Percy a long time ago. At that time I was an avid Perccabeth shipper, but I basically sat and tought about it, and made a mental exercise: If Percy was a woman, and Annabeth was a man, would their interactions still be considered cute and perfect in a relationship?

That was when I realized, no, it wouldn't be. And that was it for me.

No, I completely get it. I myself was a Percabeth shipper, I think everyone was at one point as most of us read these books at a young age. I am glad that all of us are seeing massive problems with the many canon relationships and other aspects of Riordan's terrible writing.

You give Rick Riordan too much credit. If you have checked out any recent pjo books, you can see how terrible the continuity is and how one dimensional the characters are becoming. So he certainly did not take into account the gravity of Annabeth's fatal flaw, it's repercussions or even it’s connotations in Greek myths.

Annabeth is, as I have said before, a character that always devolves through the lack of change in her attitude and the behavioral inconsistencies. She admits to her fatal flaw and how it endangers her in some instances but then never brings it up again. Doesn't do anything to actively improve on it either.

Her overall attitude remains condescending, judgemental, and heavily hypocritical. And that is putting it mildly.

The fact that she made Percy apologize for getting kidnapped against his will and then having his memory wiped out.

She repeatedly made negative or demeaning comments on his intelligence.

This should be enough of a giveaway in the first place.

Not to mention her horrifying treatment of Rachel and lack of remorse for it. Not a single apology made for it either. Or to Percy for acting as if she owned him.

Furthermore, her consistently violent actions. Now, even if they don't hurt Percy, it's still an extremely unhealthy manner of expressing her emotions.

Her repeated defense of Luke despite him putting Percy in mortal danger and attempting to kill Percy each time. Before anyone quotes they had a bond, they were family, I know, I do but by that time she had seen him do so multiple times and Thalia was family too, she understood right away that Luke was too far gone.

I also dislike the tendency of Rick and, therefore, the fandom to put Annabeth on a pedestal of she can do wrong. I have made multiple posts highlighting how Percy is canonically a better strategist than Annabeth and how Annabeth is certainly not the smartest demigod. Most knowledgeable, perhaps, but not the smartest.

To all the shippers, everyone agrees that the closest we get to absolutely perfect characterization of Percy is in Son of Neptune and Son of Sobek and the short story The Stolen Chariot. And the most obvious common thing between all these is the lack of Annabeth.

I am not saying Annabeth would ruin the book, but she does ruin Percy's character. Rick is so busy hyping her up for no absolute reason that it ends up demeaning Percy irrationally and illogically. And it happens every time.

Even if you blame later book characterizations of Annabeth on Rick Riordan's terrible writing, her early characterization had the same flaws. They are just now overtly apparent in the most recent books.

If the genders were reversed, this would be the paragon of a toxic relationship. I understand that there are excruciatingly few balanced heterosexual relationships that actually do it right and that the extreme nostalgia makes it hard for us to acknowledge any flaws on it but that's no reason to falsely advertise it as the perfect relationship. Not even close.

Not just due to these reasons but also because they have nothing in common nor do their goals align, and it's also a bit of a case of trauma bonding. Again, I have made individual posts on almost all these points

I don't think there's anything more that needs to be said on this matter, really, but feel free to ask.

[oneeyedoctogod]

Gods this fandom sometimes, I swear. I'm sorry I read two deeply bad takes back to back, and I have to rant. I'm sure others have said it better than I, but really. Come on. I actually have to wonder if people who talk about the extras actually read them because...

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn't leave the cultivation world in canon. They elope, and then they come back. The fact they're not involved in the bigger politics is... pretty much to be expected, but they very much do participate in the day to day lives of the Lan sect. They go where the chaos is to night hunt, they teach, Lan Wangji comforts his brother in his seclusion, and Wei Wuxian meets some new Lan disciples.

As for the cottage fantasy... Again, I honestly have to wonder if the people talking about it actually read the extra it's in? Because it's just that. A fantasy. A dream. It's basically a representation of Wei Wuxian's wants for a domestic life, something he definitely has now! He's always been characterised as someone who wants to help others and who loves cultivation. Why would you think the dream is to be taken literally?

And the idea that Wei Wuxian has 'several important relationships just floating there', that he's not dealing with... Where? Which ones? He teaches the juniors and grows closer to Jin Ling. He doesn't exactly interact with Lan Xichen, but he asks after him. He meets Mianmian again and wishes her well. He asks after Wen Ning after Lan Sizhui comes back then has some father-son bonding moments with him!

Nie Huaisang and Wei Wucian aren't close. They were friendly once, but they didn't ever meet after the lectures. I don't see how that qualifies as an "important" relationship, especially with Nie Huaisang never openly admitting to his part in Wei Wuxian's resurrection. But even then, Wei wuxian says he'll be keeping a close eye on him, so one can imagine they meet again at some point.

As for Jiang Cheng... what more do you want Wei Wuxian to do exactly? Even if you want a reconciliation, why can't Jiang Cjeng be he one to actually grow up and do the work for once? He's the one who never apologized. He's the one who is still openly hostile in the extras. If Wei Wuxian wants to move on and not interact with him, he's well within his right to do that, given how Jiang Cheng treated him. Hell, he's more generous than most since he encourages Jin Ling to talk to Jiang Cheng. If I'd been treated by someone like Jiang Cheng treated Wei Wuxian and saw him hit our nephew several times, I certainly wouldn't encourage them to meet. (But that's Wei Wuxian for you, the moral ideal and better than all of us.)

Anyway, I really don't understand why people insist on making Wangxian have a sadder ending than the one they actually did. It's a HEA for them, sorry guys. And yeah, maybe Wei wuxian has some trauma to work on... but the whole point of the character is that he doesn't let his trauma define him. That he wants to forgives, forgets and moves on.

(Also, just because he doesn't have a breakdown or the cultivation equivalent of therapy in the extra doesn't mean he's not working on them? He finally is at peace, with a solid support network. Maybe he does talk about his past hurts with Lan Wangji - Lan Wangji certai ly knows when to comfort him when he needs it. But the narrative point of the extras is to show they're moving on from the past! And you know what, sometimes the beat thing to do to heal is to do just that. They're living their best lives, deal with it.)

And finally... shit did you really read the whole book and come to the conclusion Wei Wuxian should have 'learned to accept help'? Who the fuck offered help? Who did he refuse?

(Don't say Lan Wangji. 1) I love him, but "Come back to Gusu" is very much not an obvious offer to help, and when Wei Wuxian understandably misunderstands him, he never manages to correct it.

And 2) once Wei Wuxian tells him explicitly he's not leaving the Wen remnants behind, Lan Wangji understands and backs off. He approves! I'm sure he'd do more if he could, but just like Jiang Yanli, he can't!)

Jiang Cheng literally said, 'No one will help you, no one is on your side' (and then made sure that was true by saying Wei Wuxian was the enemy of the cultivation world). Jin Zixuan chose to ask the one who was ambushed to disarm rather than the 300 cultivators attacking him and lunged at him when Wei Wuxian refused to comply (because he'd be killed if he did!!). How is that help?

Who else tried to help? Whose help did Wei Wuxian reject?

Wei Wuxian was presented with a series of bad choices and took the best he could, the ones aligned with his principles, accepting he'd have to face consequences at some point but also knowing it was still worth it. He's not the one who failed or made a fatal mistake or betrayed his word.

Rant over. Sorry about that.

[moodymisty]

I'm so happy your requests are open. I had two ideas, so please choose whichever appeals to you and have fun! :)

The reader is a jeweler who makes all kinds of pretty things for the nobles of Terra. Vulkan sees their work at court and is enthralled by the craftsmanship. For all his prowess at the forge, gold smithing and jewelry aren't things that he's skilled at. So he comes to the reader to ask her to teach him. It's such an honor to have a primarch ask so nicely to learn from her, the reader can hardly say no. As they work together and talk, emotions start to develop, and maybe Vulkan can even show the reader how much he appreciates her taking the time to teach him. ;)

Or

The reader is an informant for the Alpha Legion. Alpharius and/or Omegon decide that it'll improve morale and encourage the reader to work harder if they show her personally how much they appreciate the effort she's been putting in. Of course, their idea may involve some minor kidnapping and hot sex, because what better way to ensure the reader does her best than to get her addicted to their bodies?

Author's note: Here's a quick snippet, I hope you enjoy <3

Relationships: Vulkan/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None

"Perhaps one day I will make something as perfect as yours," Vulkan jokes, wrapping the necklace around your neck.

It is perfect, at least in your eyes; You'd struggle to find a single thing wrong with it. As such, you roll your eyes and shake your head.

"You already do. You are quick a fast learner."

He takes his hands away from your neck, and rests them gently on your shoulders. Their weight is warm and heavy, comfort like a quilt in a winter storm.

"Delicate creations were not my expertise when first we met; I will always be in your debt for your guidance." Perhaps they weren't, but Vulkan had spent many hours adtereeting you at the forges, crafting smaller and smaller pieces worlds apart from what he usually forges. His first few pieces, bracelets, had indeed been a bit sloppy, but as you'd expect of a primarch- he had it mastered within moments.

Most were gifted to you, after. The seventh one was perhaps when you realized he wasn't just being kind for the sake of it.

"I think you've mastered it just fine."

You look up at him with a confident and almost sly smile, knowing you are praising yourself inadvertantly. The primarch chuckles, and leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Have I ever properly thanked you for all of this time?" You him, still a bit drunk off of his kiss.

"A few times, actually."

He surprises you with a shake of his head, and another kiss. You certainly don't complain about the ladder, leaning inward with a soft moan and pressing your lips against his. They're so soft and warm- you feel them shift against your own as he deepens the kiss ever so slightly before pulling away. You're even drunker now, eyes a bit hooded.

I meant to say if I have properly, expressed my gratitude." You fumble for a moment, before you feel your cheeks get a bit redder. Suddenly the necklace against your collarbone feels a bit colder.

"In that case... No."

Vulkan drifts a hand along your collarbone, shifting the metal of his latest creation and gift to you until it lays absolutely peefect.

"Allow me to take you to my chambers and do so, then."

[akaridream]

all the right buttons: part 2 GOKU (college AU goku x reader)

alright goku fuckers, come get y'all juice

and don't worry geta lovers, you'll get yours soon too

You stared at the coin in your hand, anxiously rubbing your thumb over it. The only way to discover your true feelings was to flip it. Heads for Goku, tails for Vegeta.

The coin sailed through the air. You captured it between your palms and flipped it onto the back of one hand. Eyes opening, you lifted your hand. Heads.

YOU: ummm i guess i felt like i had a slightly better connection with goku?

You climbed into bed and laid in the darkness, wiggling your toes impatiently between your bed sheets. Your stomach floated nervously within you, waiting for her response. What if your guess was wrong? Would you be disappointed if it was Vegeta? No, certainly not disappointed. But there would be at least a tinge of FOMO in your heart at the thought of missing out on Goku. He seemed so sweet and easy to get along with. But perhaps he was just a nice guy with everyone and you were nothing special to him. Whatever the case, you jolted when your phone finally buzzed with Bulma’s reply.

BULMA: as soon as you left, goku said you were cool and that you should come over again soon :) and he said you were really pretty An automatic smile spread across your face and you kicked your feet up with a delighted squeal.

YOU: omg i’ll come over right now if he wants haha

BULMA: easy tiger :) i gave him your number and told him to hit you up, so hopefully you’ll be hearing from him v soon

YOU: did you tell him anything I said about him? Did you put in a good word for me?

BULMA: I told him you’re super sweet and lots of fun to be around, but he was already kinda smitten and didnt need much encouragement. it was actually really cute

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. Then your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: hey, it’s goku! i got your number from bulma, i hope thats alright

You stomped your feet on the bed, pleasantly surprised that he was texting you already. This guy doesn’t play games!

YOU: omg hey! ofc thats okay! I know I can trust bulma not to give my number to creeps. I had a great time playing with you today!

GOKU: yeah me too! I’ll have to dig out some other games we can play together sometime

YOU: I’m absolutely down for another game sesh! Wish I still had all my old games, I’d bring some

GOKU: just bring yourself and I’m sure we can find something to play! theres actually an old tenkaichi tournament movie, we could try and find it somewhere and watch it

YOU: ive heard its actually a horrible movie! but that isn’t gonna stop me, i love making fun of bad movies

GOKU: haha cool! Vegeta and I always go to the gym friday afternoons, but I’m free after 5 or so. We could order some food and just hang out here

Wow, he really doesn’t beat around the bush! Straight to asking me to hang out already?

YOU: that sounds great! And will your roommates be joining us?

GOKU: they’ll probably be around. But i was kind of hoping it might just be you and me

YOU: i think i’d like that :) so it’s a date then?

GOKU: yeah, if that’s okay with you

YOU: definitely okay with me! I can bring some drinks if you want

GOKU: yeah sure! You like chinese takeout? Theres an awesome place just off campus I order from all the time, they give you sooo much food

YOU: yeah, that sounds great to me. I’m sure you need big portions, you’re a growing boy after all!

For the rest of the week, you texted Goku without the conversation coming to a natural end. As midday turned into Friday afternoon, an anxious, fluttery feeling flooded your stomach. What should you wear? What should you do with your hair? What about makeup? In the end, you opted for a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a cute camisole with lace trim and an oversized cozy cardigan that kept falling off your shoulder. The peek of skin would be enticing, if he was interested in hooking up of course. And you certainly weren’t against that idea. Since the day you met him, you had been thinking about climbing all over him, especially right into his lap…

You put your hair up into a clip and dotted your cheeks and lips with a soft glow. After a touch of mascara, you admired yourself in your full length mirror. Scrubbed, shaved and smelling lightly of perfume, you felt confident in your natural beauty. Your heart danced in your chest when your phone buzzed with a text from Goku, saying to come over whenever you were ready. You grabbed the case of chilled vodka soda from your dorm fridge and headed across campus.

By the time you arrived at Bulma and Goku’s front door, your cheeks were aching from smiling so much. Your heart still twirling like a ballerina, you knocked and awaited your date’s appearance.

The door swung open, revealing Goku in a tight black tee and another pair of short shorts in bright orange. He grinned and adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Hey! Good to see ya!” he said, giving you a brief but warm hug as you stepped over the threshold. Your arms snaked around his thin waist, pleasantly aware of having his hard body flush against yours.

“Good to see you again too, Goku! How was your workout?” you asked as he led you into the kitchen.

“Great! Vegeta hit a PR on bench today, so that was cool!”

You tilted your head as he took the case of vodka soda from you and put it in the fridge. “What’s a PR?”

He blinked. “Oh! Personal record. Sorry, I forgot you aren’t a gym rat like me,” he said, shyly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, Bulma left this for us by the way.” Goku tapped a knuckle on a bottle of white wine with a fancy label.

“Oh my gosh, that looks expensive!” you said as you examined it. “But what a sweetheart she is! I’ll have to tell her thank you!”

Goku led you to the living room where the game console and old TV had been shoved to the corner and Bulma’s fancy flat screen once again dominated the space. A new coffee table sat in front of the couch as well.

“She’s been busting my balls all week about you,” he said with a shy chuckle as he plopped onto the couch.

“Oh yeah?” you asked in a teasing voice. “What about me?” A warm blush started to overtake Goku’s cheeks. He smiled and shrugged. “Just that she’s happy to see me take interest in someone, I guess. Apparently she thinks its about time!”

You sat on the couch and propped your arm over the back, turned to face Goku. “Has it been a while since you dated someone then?”

He nodded. “Yeah, since high school. I had a long term thing with this one girl but it didn’t end so great. She was a bit of a hot-head. But since her… I haven’t even been on a date. Just been trying to sort my own stuff out, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not the most experienced with relationships either. Shit’s complicated,” you laughed.

Goku smiled. “Yeah, you’re telling me!” His phone buzzed. “Alright, dinner’s here! Be right back!” His eyes grew wide with excitement and he raced out the door before you could even reply. He came back just as quick and unloaded a surprising amount of food onto the coffee table.

“Are you sure you ordered enough?” you asked sarcastically.

Goku furrowed his brows and looked over the selection of takeout containers. “Well, I thought five entrees might be enough, but I’ll be happy to order more if you want!”

You laughed and opened a pair of chopsticks. “I was kidding! This looks like enough to feed my entire family back home!”

His frown quickly inverted and he grinned. “Oh, okay, good! Should we break out what you brought to drink or try Bulma’s fancy wine?”

“Let’s have the wine with the movie, I think,” you suggested, padding over to the fridge and grabbed a drink for each of you.

Per usual with Goku, conversation was steady and comfy. You chatted and laughed as you sat on the floor across the coffee table from each other, both of your cell phones sitting untouched. “Is this table new?” you asked.

Goku nodded as he scarfed down some lo mein. “Yeah, Bulma bought a new one because Vegeta and I kind of broke the last one.” You sputtered a laugh. “How on earth did you manage to break a coffee table?”

“Well, we were just kind of goofing around and Vegeta slipped and… Fell right through it! It was all glass, he complained about it being invisible all the time anyway. Bulma is convinced he did it on purpose because he hated it!”

You covered your mouth full of food and laughed heartily. “That is hilarious! But what the hell do you mean you were just goofing around?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, just… Goofin’ off like guys do?”

“Sounds just like my brothers,” you said, shaking your head.

You finished your meal, with Goku eating the lion’s share of the food. You didn’t mind, he clearly required more calories than you did. As he was clearing away all the takeout containers, you watched him in the kitchen from behind. His wide shoulders and slutty waist made your head feel light. Or was it the vodka soda?

“You ready to bust out this bottle of wine?” he called over his shoulder.

Your eyes grazed over his silhouette, admiring his stellar ass in those tiny shorts. “Sure, let’s do it!”

Goku rummaged around in the kitchen drawers. “Crap, I have no idea where to find a corkscrew.”

You rose from your place on the living room floor to help him look. “Well I sure hope you at least know how to use one, because I sure don’t! I only ever buy the cheap wine with the screw top.”

Goku bumped into you, then placed a hand on your hip to navigate around you in the kitchen. You blushed at the contact.

“Bulma’s not here, is she?” you asked. “We could ask her if she knows where it is.”

“No, she said she was heading back to West City to see her parents this weekend. And Vegeta said he’d be out late tonight.”

Way at the back of a stuck drawer, you felt a spiral shape. You turned and twisted it until the drawer could move again, finally able to extract the object. You held it up with a bright smile.

“Ta-da!” you said.

“Hey, nice!” Goku said, giving you a high-five. He took the corkscrew and carefully opened the fancy bottle to pour you both a glass.

You returned to the living room with two stemless crystal glasses as Goku made a quick trip to his bedroom.

“The library had the Tenkaichi movie on DVD!” he called down the hall as he returned. You sat on the edge in the middle of the couch, watching him lean over to load the DVD into the player. Those damn shorts are giving me heart palpitations, you thought. His body is godly.

Cheeks growing warmer by the second, you slid your cardigan off one shoulder for some much-needed cool air. You caught Goku’s eyes taking you in as he turned around, peeking at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“How’s it taste?” Goku asked, his voice quiet and soft.

You raised the crystal and gave it a swirl before taking a sip. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose as you swallowed the aromatic liquid, a trail of pleasant warmth growing in your chest.

“Expensive,” you said. You both laughed.

Goku grabbed the remote and sat on your right, his left arm automatically fanning over the back of the couch cushion. Once he started the movie, he exchanged the remote for his glass of wine, taking a sizable swig.

“Hm, it’s sweeter than I expected. The last time I tried wine, I felt like it sucked all the moisture out of my mouth,” Goku said.

You took another sip. “Yeah, this one is nice and mild. I could drink the whole bottle of this,” you said, your head starting to feel pleasantly heavy.

Eager to move closer to your date, you sat back into the couch and tucked your feet up, leaning onto your hip. There was still space between the two of you, but it was Goku’s turn to come to you next.

The movie began with a vibrant action scene, filling the dark room with bright flashes of light. After draining half of his glass, Goku leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. When he leaned back, he closed the small gap between you, nestling your shoulder under his wing on the back of the couch. A rush filled you immediately, and you happily leaned your weight into his firm torso. At that, Goku moved his arm from the couch cushion to rest across your shoulders. Another pleasing rush of adrenaline raced through you. You licked your lips and sipped on the wine.

“This okay?” he said, barely above a whisper.

You gave a smile and warm mm-hmm before placing your glass on the table and snuggling up to him even more. His thighs spread slightly, making his leg press into yours. Like chess opponents trading moves, you thought about what your next move should be. Your mind flashed back to the last time you saw Goku. That blue tank top had shown off his pecs just right…

Biting your lip, you leaned your head over to rest your burning cheek against his chest. With your ear pressed to him, you could hear his heart beating wildly. The excitement of snuggling up with such a handsome guy was not lost on you, as your heart was purring like an engine. His pecs really did make for a great pillow.

Goku began brushing his fingers softly over your exposed shoulder. You sighed happily and relaxed into his touch.

“You’re comfy,” you said as you worked your arms around his waist. He leaned back, pulling you into him even more.

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, heart leaping at the compliment.

As the movie progressed, you paid less attention to it and more to every fiber of Goku’s body. After polishing off your glasses of wine and feeling delightfully buzzed, you curled up even further into him, feet tucked up and thighs falling over onto his. Your head also migrated from resting atop his muscular chest to nuzzling into his neck. All it would take would be a subtle movement to start kissing his neck…

It took a while to muster the courage to make such a bold move. It was only your first date after all. Perhaps this was moving too fast. But he really did seem into you. And you were undoubtedly into him. While gently petting your hand over his chest, you parted your lips, and allowed a steamy breath to escape and tickle his neck. His heart began to drum hard enough for you to feel. You let your lips touch his skin with a feather-light press. Goku’s dark eyes slid closed with your next kiss, the fullness of your gorgeous mouth lighting up each nerve along his neck. You gave a gentle suck to it, causing a sweet sigh to fall from his lips. You trailed your hand up to hold the opposite side of his neck as your tongue began to tease him with tiny kitten licks, then bold circles.

Goku’s hand went from your shoulder to the back of your head, guiding you. You felt his pulse pound as you kissed him. His other hand found your wrist and squeezed.

“Hah,” he breathed. “Need to kiss you.”

You pulled back enough to look at his handsome face. His cheeks were pleasantly pink and his eyes were dazed and dreamy behind his frames. He took your chin with one hand and brought your mouth up to his, finally letting your hot breaths intermingle before he sweetly caressed your lips with his own. Goku’s tongue softly brushed over your lip, silently pleading for yours. You obliged and his tongue invaded to massage yours. Every movement was slow and sensual, tender yet incredibly erotic.

While shifting yourself to face Goku more fully, your leg brushed past something hard, and you were certain it wasn’t just his meaty thighs. Your core heated and revved like a racecar. Unable to keep them suppressed, sighs and heavy breaths from Goku encouraged you to continue kissing.

“W-wait,” Goku said, pulling away slightly. “You aren’t too drunk for this, are you?”

You pulled back further and looked at him, his black eyes full of concern. Your heart clenched. What a sweetheart!

“No,” you giggled, pulling his glasses off and placing them next to your empty wine glasses. “I may be a bit buzzed, but I’m fully aware of what I’m doing. And I don’t intend to stop.”

With that, you climbed over Goku to straddle his lap. Without the black frames, his eyes shone with gentleness, and lust. Using his shoulders for support, you adjusted yourself atop his lap until you found exactly what you were looking for. His lips fell open with a sharp, breathy groan.

“This okay?” you asked as you returned your mouth to his.

Goku kissed you between heated breaths as he gripped your thighs. “Hahh, yeah. Definitely.”

You shrugged off your cardigan and tossed it aside as you made out. One of your hands worked into Goku’s wild hair as his hands wandered up to your hips. He pulled you towards him, chest to chest, and your tight jean shorts gave you both a taste of delicious friction. That made him shove his tongue messily down your throat, like he was slowly fucking your mouth. You whined, grinding your hips down. He responded with a tight squeeze to your ass.

“I’ve… I’ve never really done this whole hooking up thing before,” he admitted.

You scratched his scalp lightly, making his eyes flutter in pleasure. “We don’t have to go any further.”

“But that’s the problem,” he said, kissing your throat. “I don’t wanna stop. You’re really hot and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

You giggled as his lips trailed down to your collarbone, sweet sensations filling you from head to core. “Then by all means, continue.”

“You gotta tell me if you wanna stop, or if I go too far.” He slid the strap of your cami and kissed your shoulder.

“Okay. And you do, too,” you breathed as his fingers softly traced your arm.

Just the touch of his hands was enough to make your eyes fall closed in bliss, and you wanted his big hands all over you. Under your shirt, on your waist, in your shorts…

“Can’t believe you aren’t bringing girls back every night. You’re so fucking hot,” you said as he sucked on your pulse point.

He smirked and took your cheek in in his palm. “I’m not a fuck boy. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” He gave you the most saccharine kiss yet, making you melt completely in his lap. “Which reminds me…” He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. “This… Isn’t just gonna be a one time thing, is it? Because I really do like you, and I want to get to know you.”

You smiled and put your hands on his gorgeous chest. “I like you too, Goku. And I’d love to get to know you better, and make out with you more, too.”

He gave a glowing smile and endearing chuckle. If he were any cuter, you feared your heart may burst. “Yeah, I really like kissing you. Like, a lot.”

And so you did just that. Desperate yet tender, Goku’s tongue reconnected with yours as your hips began to roll against his. Those shorts of his were blessedly thin, and your tight denim put pressure right on your sweet spot.

“Mm, touch me more,” you pleaded.

“Where?” he whispered.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

You took Goku’s lower lip between your teeth as his big hands roamed freely. His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, then boldly over the fullness of them just as your hips hitched against his stiff cock print. A moan ripped from your throat.

You gripped the back of the couch on either side of Goku’s head and started working your hips into a rhythm. It was agonizingly slow for him, just enough stimulation to tease and make him want more. Foreheads sealed together, mouths exchanging breaths, you humped his lap as he tenderly squeezed your tits.

“Can you go faster?” he asked, a desperate tremble to his voice. You grinned and did as he asked while bringing your chest close to his face. He pressed your breasts together and kissed the tops of them, slightly pulling down the top of your camisole. You slid the straps off your shoulders and pulled the shirt down to expose your tits to him. Goku’s eyes shone brightly as they drank you in. “Fuck. You’re perfect,” he praised, circling his thumbs over your nipples.

“Use your mouth.”

He obeyed immediately, placing delicate kisses over one while softly pinching the other. You sighed and rewarded him by continuing to hump him. But he teased you, only lightly lapping your nipple with his sweet tongue.

“Mm, harder,” you whined.

Goku proved to be pleasantly obedient, taking your directions well. He sucked and pulled back to let your tit bounce, then sought your eyes for approval. You groaned in pleasure and mussed his hair, forcing his head back to your chest. One of his large hands supported your upper back, the other smearing saliva over your pert nipple. The telltale tingle between your thighs was beginning to grow steadily. Based on the way he was whining and bucking underneath you, Goku was feeling good, too.

“Damnit, please don’t make me ruin these shorts by cumming in them,” he begged.

You slowed your pace and lifted Goku’s chin. “Where do you want to cum then?”

His pupils wide in awe, he failed to form any coherent words. “I… Well, wha…”

“Aw, did I make you dumb already, big boy?” you patronized.

“I was never that smart to begin with.” His expression was dreamy and he stared up at you like you were a goddess.

You giggled and stood up. “Why don’t you let me finish you off?”

You got on your knees between his, your breasts still exposed and holding his attention. Your soft hands rubbed up his sculpted thighs, sneaking under the hem of his shorts. His eyes met yours as you palmed his aching cock. His perfectly kissable lips hung open as you teased him, and his throaty little moans each sent a pulse straight to your pussy.

As you pulled at the waistband of his shorts, you saw two wet spots of precum had soaked through, a sign of a job well done by you. Goku lifted his hips and pulled down the obstruction to reveal his gloriously sized dick. You almost growled at the sight, feral with desire.

“Holy shit,” you said, eyes devouring the perfect specimen before you. The tip was fat and shiny, begging for your lips to wrap around it. “This still okay?”

He blew a puff of air through his nose. “Of course.”

You wrapped your index finger and thumb around his thick cock, teasing up and down his shaft slowly. He tried to strangle his moan in his throat. You met his eyes as he reclined and you lightly pressed a kiss to his tip, then trailed more kisses down one side of his length. You never would have guessed he could made such sinful sounds from his candy-sweet personality, but each noise weakened you. Eye contact still unbroken, your lips finally enveloped his cockhead, then pulled off with an obscene slurp. One hand on his shaft and the other squeezing his thigh, you circled your tongue around Goku’s beautiful cock. Worshipping it with your mouth and hearing his vocal approval made you clench your leg muscles, stimulating yourself.

“Decided where you wanna cum yet?” you asked as you licked up the underside, making him shudder.

“Ahh… I’m really not picky,” he chuckled.

With that, you started sucked him off with purpose and vigor, eager to hear his whines of pleasure. Your saliva dripped down, making a mess of him as your hand twisted and pulled. You kept constant pressure and pleasure on him, making his moans pitch up. They came in short, desperate bursts and you finally dove deep, taking his entire length down your throat in one swift motion. As you lifted to dive down again, Goku gripped the arm of the couch with one hand and guided your head with the other. While his touch was light on you, you feared his intense strength might rip the upholstery of the poor couch.

“Ahh, almost there!” Goku cried, hips beginning to twitch.

End in sight, you watched his face as you sucked him. A few final strokes and one beastly growl had him shooting hot strings down your throat. His brows knit together tightly, mouth hanging open, head tossing. He writhed in pleasure as you slowed, swallowing every drop he offered you. And it was a lot. You swallowed at least three times, taking more cum each time. Even when your mouth left him, tiny beads formed at the slit of his cock. You smeared them with you thumb, then licked him clean.

“Hope you didn’t mind that I decided for you,” you panted, proud of your hard work.

Goku slumped on the couch wearing a dazed expression. “I can barely move. Damn,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But what can I do for you now?”

Just as a grin started to form, the sound of someone unlocking the front door jolted you both out of your haze. Your eyes grew wide.

“Vegeta’s back already?” Goku whispered, frantically stuffing himself back inside his shorts as you fixed your shirt. You stood quickly enough to make your head spin and grabbed your empty wine glasses to busy yourself. Just as you made it to the kitchen to wash the glasses (and your hand covered in spit and cum), Vegeta shoved his way through the front door. You gave him a soapy-handed wave.

“Hey Vegeta,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t take a long enough look at you to notice your flushed face, neck, and chest. Thankfully, he just gave you a grunt in reply.

“You’re back early,” Goku said, a lilt in his voice.

“Not really,” Vegeta grumbled, barely giving Goku a glance as he passed. His bedroom door shut with a stern thud.

“Sounds like he had a bad day,” you mused.

Goku stood from the couch and replaced his eyeglasses. “Well, yeah. He’s jealous that you picked me over him.”

Your heart screeched to a halt. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

He tilted his head and padded over to you at the sink. “Bulma said that you said you had a better connection with me.”

Your cheeks began to burn. “She told you I said that? But she said one of you asked about me! She told me to guess which one! I couldn’t decide which of you I liked better, so she… That Bulma!” You dried your hands and tossed the dish towel onto the counter, pouting that Bulma had tricked you into making a decision. “Wait, so neither one of you actually asked her about me?”

Goku smiled warmly. “Actually, we both did. As soon as Vegeta got back from his lab, we had an argument about which one of us was gonna get to ask you out. Bulma overheard us and told us she’d figure out who you liked better!”

“But I just flipped a coin! Literally, I couldn’t decide!” you laughed.

“You did? So you didn’t really pick me at all, did you?” Goku asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

You stood on your toes and reached your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

“Fate picked you for me. And for the record, I’m really, really glad it was you, Goku.” His hands held your waist as he returned your kiss. When you pulled back, his sugary smile had renewed completely and his eyes sparkled with affection.

“Me too.”

tags: @artof-aristocracy @ghostlylovesstuff

[system-to-the-madness]

Bet ya - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Pairing: (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 311 Warnings: alcohol, Reader kisses Wylan (oops, but no cheating), OCC Kaz, betting (not on money) Summary: Kaz makes a bet with you and doesn’t like the way it turns out for him Prompts: bet, game, constest

“You’d never win a bet against me.”

“Is that a bet?”

Kaz rolled his eyes at you, adjusting in the seat at the bar of the Crow Club. “Why are you so desperate to lose to me.”

“We don’t know if I’d lose,” you reminded him, tilting your head at him playfully.

“Why do I even bother,” he murmured, more to himself than you, but you still heard him over the noise of the guests, the music and the clinking of glasses and coins.

“Come on, Kaz,” you encouraged him, nudging the leg of his chair with your foot, knowing better than to touch him. “It’s a game!”

“A stupid game, and that’s Jesper’s specialty, not mine.”

“Indulge me, just this once. All the others played too!”

“What’s your current score, then?” Kaz wasn’t looking at you as he waved to the bartender for another glass of whiskey.

“Sooo… I won against Matthias,” you start counting, “lost to Nina and Inej, won against Wylan and the bet with Jesper is still ongoing. Currently it does look like he’s going to lose, though.”

With a sigh Kaz turned back to you, taking in your appearance. His blue eyes were cold as always, but you had learnt better than to be intimidated by them. Sure, he was a dangerous man, but in a relaxed situation like right now, considering how close you were, there was nothing you had to fear from him. For the time being.

“Fine,” he agreed eventually, rolling his eyes again as an excited grin spread over your face. “But first: who would you rather kiss, Wylan or Jesper?”

You, you wanted to say, but you were no idiot and certainly not drunk enough to answer that. Even if he wouldn’t mind you basically confessing your annoying little crush on him, even if he would want to kiss you too, he couldn’t. Not with the way he flinched at any form of physical contact or even the mental image of standing too close to someone.

Quickly you tore your thoughts back to his question. Really, you had no desire to kiss either of the young men, even more so because you knew they were going out. But you had the distinct feeling one of their names would annoy him more to hear than the other.

“I don’t want to kiss either of them,” you told him honestly.

“Assume you are being forced. Who would you choose?”

Worrying your lips between your teeth, you glanced over at the table in the corner, where the rest of the crows were laughing together. Matthias sat in the very back, Nina cuddled into his side, Inej in safe distance at his other side with Wylan and Jesper on the bench opposite them.

“Do I have to choose?”

“Yes,” Kaz’s answer came cooly and not without a hint of pleasure at your discomfort.

“Jesper,” you eventually decided, just in time looking back at Kaz to see his face fall. Jackpot.

“And who of the two are you more scared of?”

“Scared of?” You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped over your lips. “Why would I be scared of either of them?”

“Maybe you upset them? Broke Wylan’s favourite flute, or Jesper’s gun…”

The way Kaz was looking at you now reminded you of why people were so scared of him. There was something truly… demonic- in the way he was watching you now. You were his mark and his whole focus was on trying to find a way to bring you down. You just wished his whole focus would be on you even without trying to drive you into ruin.

“I mean, Jesper has his guns, but Wylan has his explosives,” you thought out loud. “So, I’m gonna go with Wylan on this.”

“Hm, not ideal,” Kaz told you, his eyes flickering from you over to the table with his friends. You had about an idea what he was going to bet you on, you just didn’t know who he would choose, Jesper or Wylan.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” you joked, trying to overplay your sudden nervousness. “You don’t have to come up with a masterplan for a simple game of betting.”

“Who would I be if I didn’t,” Kaz asked, turning back to you with a devilish grin that made a shiver run down your spine. Jup, Matthias’ nickname for Kaz was accurate indeed.

“Fine, hit me with all you’ve got,” you sighed, leaning a little closer than before as if conspiring with him. Instead of leaning away, as you had expected him to do, he leant closer, close enough for you to smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I bet you wouldn’t go over to Wylan and kiss him. On the mouth,” Kaz grinned diabolically.

Yeah, you had known he’d go for this as soon as he had asked the first question.

“That’s not a bet, that’s a dare,” you educated him, but got up from your chair anyway, Kaz’s eyes widening slightly. “What do I get if I win?”

“You won’t,” Kaz told you, his confident smile seeming frozen on his lips.

“Well, then what do you get if you win,” you asked, adjusting your shirt, turning to him expectedly.

“The pride of knowing you ruined your own bet,” Kaz decided.

“How chivalrous of you. I’ll take a coffee with winter spices from the café down the street as my prize, but the coffee with cream, the good one,” you told him, before turning away and walking over to the corner, where your friends were seated. All the way over you felt Kaz’s eyes on your back.

“Hey! Did you finally leave the resident rain cloud and decided to join the fun,” Jesper laughed as he spotted you approaching.

“Not quite. Hey Jes, remember our bet from before?”

Jesper nodded, his grin growing broader. “Am I winning?”

“You just might,” you told him. “But I’d have to kiss your boyfriend for that.”

Jesper stopped for a moment, as if he was thinking, then he looked up at where you were standing behind him, over to Kaz, to Wylan and back to Kaz.

“Oh, if it’s just for the bet, you’d have to ask Wylan, not me.” The grin was returning to Jesper’s face, and you had the sudden thought that he actually might be into you kissing Wylan. Oh saints, that man.

“I would ask him either way, you genius,” you sighed, “I just don’t want to get shot by you over a bet.”

“Fair enough,” Jesper agreed.

“So, Wylan, would you mind if I kissed you? No tongue or anything. It would help me win a bet against Kaz and possibly help Jesper win a bet against me.”

Wylan blinked for a few seconds, trying to process what you were asking, then his eyes skipped over to Jesper, who you saw nodding encouragingly from the corner of your eyes.

“I guess, it’s okay,” he nodded, making you smile.

“This shouldn’t be as hot as it is,” Jesper mumbled behind you.

“I’ll keep it short, I promise,” you told him, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to come to level with him. His dark eyes flickered over your face and from this close up you could almost count the freckles that were sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. He definitely was cute. Not your type, but cute. You could understand why Jesper was so in love with him.

You closed your eyes, and leant forward, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. But your lips had barely touched against Wylan’s, hadn’t even yet registered his warmth, when suddenly the others on the table gasped. It wasn’t the kind of ‘oh, they’re actually kissing!’-gasp, it was more of a shocked, if not even scared gasp. Before you could even try to make sense of it, something hard and pointy landed on your shoulder and you got yanked backwards.

“That’s enough,” Kaz’s icy voice cut like a blade through the noise of the Crow Club.

And without giving you the chance to properly stand up or let you look at him, he used the crow beak of his cane to drag you backwards. Instead of trying to figure out the various levels of amusement and terror on your friends’ faces, you twisted, trying to turn around to Kaz, who marched straight out of the Crow Club. In the dark, cold street outside, he walked a few more meters before he came to a halt and unhooked the cane from your shoulder.

“What was that about,” he almost shouted, his frame seeming taller and more dangerous than usually. Finding yourself on the bad side of Dirtyhands was not very pleasant, you realized, but also you didn’t understand what his problem was.

“What do you mean,” you asked, “you bet I wouldn’t do it, and I did. You lost, so what?”

“You kissed him!”

“Hardly! You stopped me before it was even a proper kiss. With that crow cane of yours.” Annoyed you rubbed the aching part of your shoulder, where the tip of the beak had bored into your muscle.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss him,” Kaz argued.

“You bet I wouldn’t. You have to expect people to win a bet by doing the opposite of what you want them to do. That’s how bets work!”

“I didn’t think you’d really do it! I thought you’d- or- I don’t know! I didn’t think you’d go through with it!”

“Why not? I told you, it’s a game. What’s so bad about wanting to win it?”

“I thought- I thought you wouldn’t kiss him, because you liked m-” Kaz stopped himself before the last word fully slipped over his lips, and turned away, exasperated. Running a shaking hand through his hair, he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to kiss him.”

“Kaz,” carefully you stepped closer behind him. His breath was irregular, and he was clearly upset and emotional. Under normal circumstances you would have placed your hand on his back, but knowing Kaz, you refrained. “Kaz, you do know it was a game, right? It didn’t mean anything. And- I only kissed Wylan because I though you wouldn’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t mind?” Kaz turned back around to you. “Of course I mind! Do you think I don’t wish I could be the one who-”

“Quick question!” Without warning the window beside Kaz and you got thrown open and Jesper poked his head outside. “Kaz are you jealous? And does that mean I won our bet?” The second part was directed at you.

“Not now, Jes,” you told the Zemini man and slammed the window shut again.

“Listen Kaz,” you took a step closer to Kaz, still leaving a safe distance between him and you to not upset him further. “If I had known it would upset you this much, I would have rejected the bet. I really was convinced you didn’t care about if or who I kissed. But now I know better, and it won’t happen again. And for the record. When you asked, who I wanted to kiss between Jesper and Wylan, my initial response would have been someone else entirely.”

You exchanged a long look with Kaz, one that left no doubt that you had meant him, even if you lacked the courage to put it into words.

After a few moments, Kaz bowed his head slightly.

“Sorry for lashing out,” he mumbled.

“Since when does Dirtyhands do apologies,” you teased, making Kaz groan.

“Don’t ruin it,” he threatened, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright. But now that we have that settled, does this mean I won a bet against you?”

“One,” Kaz emphasized. “I won’t make it so easy next time.”

“Why, what’s the next bet? Kissing Nina?”

“You won’t be kissing anyone,” Kaz grumbled, a blush beginning to rise into his cheeks.

“Not anyone? Not even the great Kaz Brekker?” It was bold, that was for certain, but you had hit bullseyes it seemed, as Kaz fought back the red on his cheeks and instead turned to you with an expression that probably was his attempt to threaten you. The thing with Kaz Brekker was that he was incapable of believably threatening the people he cared about.

“I might make an exception for him,” he mumbled, before turning to the door. “Let’s go back inside; it’s cold.”

Trying not to let your giddy excitement show, you followed Kaz back into the bar, but before he entered the main room, he stopped and turned to you.

“What was that bet you had going on with Jesper,” he asked with furrowed brows. You couldn’t help but notice that his body language had changed. Where before he always stood straight and with a certain distance to every person he encountered, he now seemed to be leaning more towards you as if trying to close a distance you knew he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

“He bet, you would get jealous over me before the end of the month,” you admitted, watching Kaz tilt his head. “I was convinced it was impossible.”

Kaz’s jaw tensed, and his eyes met yours with an unspoken confession, but the moment was interrupted by a drunk guy stumbling through the door, bumping into you and apologizing terribly.

Kaz and you exchanged glances, your more amused than his annoyed one, before you walked back inside, getting hit by a wall of noise and the smell of alcohol. The others waved you over cheerfully, and when Kaz and you pulled your own chairs over to join them at their table, nobody mentioned the way Kaz rested his arm on the backrest of your chair or how he leant over to whisper in your ear that he hadn’t forgotten about the prize for you winning the bet but only under the condition that he got to accompany you to the café.