#So excited for you to see the full piece!!

[rafesangelita]

♡ after receiving sex dice as a gag gift from your girlfriends, courtesy of your early galentine’s day party, you decide to bring them into the bedroom and rafe is surprisingly on board..

warnings: sex dice lol, established relationship, flirty banter, laughing during sex, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, so many descriptions of positions please bare with me, slight degradation, praise, rafe’s d game is a1 (!!!), marathon sex (?), overstimulation, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, cream pie

a/n: now presenting… ‘ROLL THE DICE!’ 🤍 i felt like i was at war while trying to explain these positions in clear detail lol, just know i tried my best!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.4k

rafe had been eyeing the pink gift bag you brought back from your best friend’s house, his curiosity only growing when you refused to let him see what was inside. “just let me see! what is it? girl stuff?” you laughed, taking the bag in your hands. “you could say that..” your teasing tone was torturing him, the anticipation making rafe groan. “come on!” he finally reached for the bag, snatching it at the same time you pulled, making everything in the flimsy gift bag fall onto your bed. “well, that’s great..” you whispered, watching as your boyfriend inspected the contents.

“pink condoms.. we don’t use those. chocolates, a face mask, a sephora gift card, some earrings, and.. hey, what’s in this red pouch?” your cheeks heated as he pulled on the drawstring, two pink dice falling into his hand. “oh.. babe, this is sex dice!” he laughed, glancing up at you incredulously as you hid your face in your hands. “it’s just a silly little gag gift, nothing more.” you waved it off, taking a seat next to him on your shared bed. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it’d be fun to try out, but knowing rafe, you knew he wasn’t really one for games.

he studied them, flipping the many facets of the dice. “..i don’t know, they have some pretty good positions on here,” he shrugged, “what do you think?” your eyes shot up to meet his, a pang of excitement lighting up in your tummy. “r-really?!” you smiled, your boyfriend pulling you on top of his lap before he nodded. “yeah, look in that pouch for what the number dice means.” you obliged, taking the small folded up piece of paper that was the instructions. “oh, wow.. the number dice determines how many rounds we go.” rafe looked down at the small thing and laughed.

“it goes up to twelve,” your eyes widened as he handed you the acrylic piece, “go ahead and roll it.” you rolled onto your side, tossing the dice for both of you. “three.” rafe was starting to get excited now, his lips trailing along your neck as he gave you the dice with the positions on it. you two were easily doing more than that amount regularly. you giggled when his breath tickled your skin, your head moving to the side to allow him more access. rafe palmed you through your top, a moan leaving your lips as he ran his tongue along your flesh.

“roll the dice before i decide the positions for us.” he groaned, pressing a kiss to your jaw. sighing, you did as he said, reading the positions out loud for him. “the first one is..” you trailed off, “sixty-nine.” you laughed. rafe hummed approvingly, moving his gaze down to the comforter where you tossed the dice again. “next one is.. butterfly?” rafe mumbled a ‘we’ll look that up in a second.’ before you announced the last one. “which leaves us to do.. full nelson.” rafe might as well have jumped up and cheered by the way he excitedly shook you by your shoulders. “full nelson?! fuck, yeah!”

deciding it would be best to go in order of the dice, you and rafe found yourselves settling into your sheets, both of your clothes long gone as you turned your back to him, swinging a leg over his torso. rafe was shameless in staring at your glistening cunt, the sight of your wet folds making him take his bottom lip between teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty down here..” he marveled, taking the pads of his thumbs on both of your puffy lips before spreading them open, your needy clit revealing itself to him. you moaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as he squeezed the globes of your ass.

you adjusted yourself a little bit so you were more comfortable, scooting up closer to rafe’s face as he groaned at the proximity. he was already hard just by looking at you up close like this. “can we start, baby? i need to taste you already.” you hummed sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. while you started off slow, rafe dove right in, wrapping his large arms around your thighs to keep you in place. you gasped when his tongue circled your sensitive bud, your hips bucking at the sudden intrusion. “that feels so good, rafe!” you whined, deciding to put your mouth to better use and finally wrap your lips around his aching length.

“fuck!” he cursed, his fingertips digging into your skin as your tongue worked him skillfully. you knew what drove rafe over the edge, you knew what made him lose his breath and what made his chest feel like it was going to cave in. “ah, shit, you’re so good at that.” his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when he felt himself hit the back of your throat. rafe landed a harsh smack to your ass, the stinging sensation making you whimper. swallowing around his cock, you waited until you had tears running down your cheeks before pulling off of him with a sharp intake for air.

rafe could just imagine how much of a mess you looked like right now. swollen lips, watery eyes, spit and precum dribbling down your chin.. fuck he was tempted to drag you back up just to admire your pretty face. “you’re driving me crazy.” he huffed out, sucking your clit into his mouth where his teeth very slightly grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves. “please don’t stop!” rafe had no intentions of doing so, your boyfriend’s bruising grip on your thighs making you unable to move away from him. rafe knew you were close to cumming whenever you tried to run away from it.

swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, rafe felt the familiar tension start to build up in the pit of his stomach. he continued lapping at your sweetness until you started bobbing your head up and down his length, basically fucking your face with his cock. the wet sounds mixed with your moans was about to make rafe paint your face, but he decided against it last minute. “stopstopstopstopstop,” he pinched your side, “wanna’ save my cum for when i fill up this perfect cunt.” despite wanting to make him finish anyways, you did as he said, mumbling a ‘okay, ray..’

in almost no time, your thighs were trembling around his head, your nails raking down his skin as waves of pure euphoria washed over you, your orgasm hitting you deep in your tummy. with the side of your face resting on his thigh, you whined helplessly as your hips moved on their own accord, your hand still languidly stroking his length. you were begging him at this point for him to slow down the work on your poor overstimulated clit, your pleas going through one ear and straight out the other. “please, no more— i can’t do it!” you shrieked. rafe’s chest filled with pride knowing you were most likely ‘fucked out’ already without actually getting fucked yet.

you were struggling to move as rafe didn’t slow down his movements on your clit, another rubber band in your tummy snapping as he made you cum again, back to back. you laid there, completely at his mercy as you convulsed in his arms, your mouth open in a silent moan while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you felt like you had transcended into another dimension, your body simply floating away somewhere else. it wasn’t until you let out a choked sob that rafe gave you a final lick, his face shining with your succulence as he massaged your skin to bring you down from your high.

how, how were you supposed to go two more rounds after that? while you were laying there, your limbs feeling like jelly, rafe was googling the butterfly position and smirking to himself as he pulled up the visual. you had something else coming if you thought you were done for right now. rafe on the other hand was just getting started. gently rolling you over, rafe stood at the edge of your bed before yanking your ankles and securing your legs to his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his heavy cock sitting between your folds, your eyes meeting his as he pressed kisses to your ankles.

“you good?” he rested his hands in the crease where your thighs and your hips met, rubbing soothing circles there until you giggled softly. “not really..” rafe smiled, threading his fingers through yours. “tell me when you want to stop, baby, it’s all you.” you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt him teasing your clit with his tip. you loved how attentive rafe was. not only towards your wellbeing, but to the little things that made you whimper and squirm. “son of a bitch..” he cursed, slowly sliding into you with ease. your back arched off of the soft sheets, your eyebrows knitting together as he filled you to the hilt.

“fuck!” no matter how many times you and rafe had each other like this, the feeling of him filling you up and your velvety walls welcoming him in was unlike any other. rafe pulled out before thrusting back in with full force, his head rolling to the side as you cried out. you kept your eyes trained on his face, occasionally stealing glances at his toned stomach and biceps. he was truly a sight to see. your tits bounced with every thrust, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as his lower abdomen smacked the back of your thighs. “you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, “always so fuckin’ perfect.”

rafe picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the bed until he had to pull you down to the edge again. you moaned as his cock continuously nudged that sweet spot inside of you, your legs now shaking around his head while he managed to get his fingers on your clit again. you were still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but jolt at the hard circles being rubbed on your sensitive bud once again. rafe was so close, but he wanted to hold off from cumming for as long as possible, preferring to make you finish around him first instead.

“i can’t!” you gasped, “it hurts, rafe.” as soon as you said those words, he stopped. “yeah? it’s too much for you?” you nodded, your thighs shutting around his hand in response. he leaned down, keeping your legs on his shoulders as he kissed you sloppily. “would it make you feel better if we stopped?” you laughed, stroking the underside of his jaw with your finger. “do you hear me tapping out?” you shot back, “let’s try full nelson.” rafe has been waiting for this moment for a reallyyyy long time. the only reason why you two never got to it and made it a point to try it was unknown to him, but thank goodness for sex dice, right?

you didn’t have to tell him twice. he was already pulling you on top of him as soon as he got the okay. “i can’t believe this is happening.” you smiled as you lifted your legs, rafe wasting no time in bringing his arms up and over until his hands rested on the back of your neck, securing your thighs to your shoulders. your eyes widened slightly as you realized just how exposed and compromising this position was. your cunt was on full display, your folds threatening to open on their own as your head was forced to be faced down. “you alright?” rafe grunted, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“uh huh..” you sounded uneasy, a laugh falling from rafe’s lips as he adjusted himself to prod at your entrance. “don’t worry, i got you.” was the last thing he said before you watched him enter you agonizingly slow. your lips parted at the sight. rafe kept going until he bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you swear you’ve never felt him this deep before, it was almost like he was in your tummy. “oh my god..” you whimpered, your eyes watering at how full you were. rafe was fighting every urge not to spill into you, his eyes screwing shut as he began a steady pace.

“shit, you’re wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight, m’not gonna last.” he said through gritted teeth. you were hiccuping and panting as he thrusted into you from below, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin bouncing off of your bedroom walls. rafe angled his hips in a way that made you shriek, a knowing smile making its way to his lips as you now had tears streaming down your face. “i bet you look like a fucking mess right now.” he cursed, using one of his hands to snake down your side before giving your clit a small pinch. your head shot back while you looked up at the ceiling helplessly.

“r-rafe..” you were barely able to get his name out, your hands flying to hold onto his arm. you felt an unfamiliar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach as he continued rubbing your poor bud into your second orgasm of the night. “let it go go for me, ‘pretty, let me feel it.” you couldn’t even shut your thighs because of his strength forcing them open, a shaky breath emitting from your throat as your high ripped right through you, rendering you speechless almost immediately. rafe made sure to watch you intently, the sight of you unraveling making him follow suit.

it wasn’t until you felt a stream of wetness flow between your thighs that your eyes shot open in surprise. “did i just—” rafe let go of the grip he had on your neck and instead forced you to look up at him while he finally painted your walls with his seed. he was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. rafe kissed you as his movements came to a stop, your thighs still trembling in his arms while he pulled out. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, both of you feeling absolutely spent. “i think i made a mess.” rafe laughed softly, nodding his head. “yeah? that makes two of us then.”

[theladyheroine]

🥞 Pancakes 🥞

Movie! Shadow x Platonic! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Cozy, Silly

Word Count: 1,503 words

⚠️ Warning: None, except little embarrassment

Summary: Hi guys! I got excited about my last Shadow fic so I wrote another one! The songs I used are this one & this one btw, but this fic is more casual than the previous one so it’s much shorter too. Inspired by when my Mom recently caught me dancing (lol).

I want to spend my life 

With a girl like you!

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,

Faint words filtered through Shadow’s ears as his eyelids fluttered open. It took him a while to fully realize he was awake, but thankfully he didn’t feel too heavy. He rested for a minute before sitting up and scooting over to the bedside. 

It wasn’t very bright, surprisingly. He saw the blinds had been left open and the dark gray sky filtered over the room. Raindrops scattered across glass, making a rhythmic noise, but it felt nice. 

Till that time has come, 

That we might live as one!

Can I dance with you?

Perking up at the cool words, he shuffled his way towards the door and into the hallway. The sound grew louder before Shadow realized it was music playing, and a buttery smell accompanied it. 

Most of the lights were off since it wasn’t exactly dark out, but only one or two yellow lights shone above the kitchen stove. With you moving and swaying there in a very strange manner. Shadow would hardly call it dancing: you were just bobbing up and down, tossing your head and holding a spatula to your face. If he didn’t know you prior he would’ve thought you looked foolish. But you were his friend now, he wasn’t about to judge. 

Girl, why should it be 

That you don't notice me?

“Can I dance with you?— OhmygoshShadow!!"

You yelped loudly as you quickly jolted back, surprised— and embarrassed— to find Shadow standing behind you. Your spatula knocked into a bowl of pancake batter, sending a blob of beige-white goo down to the floor. 

“Ohshoot-sorry! I didn’t see you there bud!” 

“No, I should’ve said something.” 

You rushed to grab a paper towel and swipe the batter off your tiles, but Shadow beat you to it. 

“Nah, it’s all good! I should’ve been paying attention.” You chuckled and grabbed another one, soaking it under the sink then cleaned any excess mush. 

“Is that The Troggs playing?” Shadow asked, tossing the mess into the trash can. 

You quickly lowered the stove temperature and nodded, “Yup! They’re awesome huh! I love their songs.” 

You were about to scoop up some more batter, then paused for a minute. 

“Wait—You know The Troggs?!” You exclaimed, swinging your face back around. 

“Mmhmm,” Shadow nodded. “I’ve heard only one song, until now.”

You gave a mental “huh” before going back to your pancakes. Even hedgehogs had good taste in music. Who knew?

It had been a full month now since Shadow started living with you, and even without teleportation, he still had ways of surprising you.  

You were home all day since it was the weekend, but Shadow had spent most of his time in his room. He usually did; if you weren’t up and about neither was he. In a way, he was like your own little shadow. You never pressed what he did alone, but judging by his expression, he had just woken up from a nap. 

“What are you doing?” Shadow peered over the counter, quills twitching with curiosity.

“Just makin’ some pancakes. They’re a little crispy though.” 

You slid a slightly burnt piece onto a plate. The pretty golden circles stood in a short stack and gave off an amazing smell. You could see Shadow lean closer as his red eyes grew bigger. 

“They’re…pancakes?” He stated his words as if asking a question, but to himself. Which made you curious. 

“Yep! I know it’s weird having breakfast for lunch, but I wanted to make something different this time.” 

“Uh huh.” He drawled. “They smell nice.”

His brows scrunched up and down, spreading more confusion across his face as Shadow watched the pan sizzle. Pancakes seemed like such an alien concept to him, ironically. 

“Shadow?” You asked. “Have you ever had a pancake before?” 

He paused again, but shook his head. “No. Are they any good?”

“Uh–yes!! They’re delicious!” 

To say you were surprised was an understatement: how could he not know about pancakes? 

Until the realization hit you that he probably hasn’t even seen pancakes before. You didn’t know where Shadow came from, and have avoided mentioning it in the past. Even after you became friends. In all that time spent together, you hardly knew a thing about him. And he still seemed reluctant to share. 

Movement shook you from your daze as Shadow picked up your spatula, poking the goo in the bowl like a little kid. His story would have to wait for another day. Your top priority: showing him the best brunch ever. 

Life could be a dream! Life could be a dream!

Do do do do, SH-Boom!

Your phone quickly changed its tune as The Chords started playing. It couldn’t have picked a more perfect song. 

“Why don’t you give this a try Shadow!” You scooted the pan closer to him, turning off the heat and switching it to the other side. 

“Me?” He fumbled with the spatula. 

“Yea, why not! Don’t worry I’ll help you.” You gave a cheeky grin, “Besides, it’ll be fun to learn. Right?”

Shadow opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. You had always made meals for him, or either helped him make them. Even when you were gone there’d always be something from the previous night, or wrapped up in plastic. 

But you had a point, he couldn’t rely on you for everything. Especially now. If he was going to stay, he’d have to start pulling his weight around. 

“Alright,” He tugged back his gloves and set himself behind the stove. “I’m ready.”

You poured a cup of batter into the pan. For such a serious character, he looked so adorable.

You two waited for a few minutes before you set your hand on his arm, helping him flip the pancake to the other side. It shifted a little, making tiny splatters, but the color was perfect. For the second one you let him do it himself, and it looked far better than the first.

Life could be a dream! SH-Boom!

If I could take you to a paradise up above,

SH-Boom! And tell me darling, 

“I’m the only one that you love!” You shimmied back and forth to the music as Shadow continued to pour and flip the batter. 

For a first timer he was doing incredibly well! Fast even; his pancakes came out looking far better than yours! To which Shadow claimed could only come natural to him. You shot a surprised look, but you were happy seeing him loosen up. After a little while, Shadow even joined in your silly dance moves. His shoes tapped along to the beat, and you could see his body bouncing as he mouthed the lyrics. You tried giving him a little bump of encouragement, til he stopped and looked at you strangely. 

“Wow!” You coughed, “You’re really getting the hang of this bud.” 

Shadow rolled his eyes but he kept smiling. “Thanks. This is..easier than I expected.” 

After a short while, you two had a full stack of pancakes. You quickly shut off the stove and tossed the bowl into the sink. Maneuvering the food to the countertop, you pulled out two little plates. You were about to grab the butter, but Shadow beat you once again. 

“Can I do it?” The container looked so small in his big hands. 

You nodded and found a plastic knife in the drawers. Leaving Shadow to butter the pancakes while you looked for the syrup. 

You came back from the pantry with a tall bottle in your hands, and to say Shadow was amazed was a clear understatement. The light in his eyes when the dark syrup trickled down the edible tower was enough to brighten any room. 

You two settled at the table, plates in hand. Meals were typically had together nowadays, but each time it felt different somehow. Shadow had come a long way, going from a worrisome little thing to a happy hedgehog! And you couldn’t be prouder.

“‘Kay bud, dig in!” You pushed your fork into the food and Shadow did the same, cutting it into bite sized pieces. 

Everything seemed normal, until after a few bites Shadow stopped. He just sat there, chewing, but his expression quickly changed. It wasn't confusion, more like—a blank expression? 

“Shadow?” You said through your food. “You doin’ okay there?”

Oh how you hoped he didn’t grab the burnt one.

In an instant, Shadow took a larger piece and shoved it in his mouth. He only half chewed before doing the same thing. He did this three more times and it took him about a minute to finish half the plate. 

Syrup coated his mouth, and he swallowed hard before speaking. “You were right. Pancakes are the superior choice.” 

That was all he said before stuffing his face again. 

“Yea-I-erm—yea! Well, I’m glad you like them!” 

You rushed over to sink and grabbed a cup of water. Thinking next time, you should just make eggs instead.

❣️—THE END—❣️

[hooksbooks]

Renegade Exchange '24: Her Kingdom As Great

I participated in @renegadeguild's typesetting and bound fic exchange, in which we trade typsetting/bound fic wishlists with other participants and then typseset/bind at least one fic from their list and send it to them.

This post is about the first fic I bound for @celestial-sphere-press: Her Kingdom As Great by MarbleGlove.

I was excited to see this fic on my requester's wishlist, because I've read this series in the past and really enjoyed it. I liked the imagery of the golden wheat berries from the Nearly Endless Plains being used in embroidery on clothing, so I wanted the cover to feature embroidered wheat sheaves.

My first step was to work on the book cloth. I knew I wanted something tan that looked kind of hand-woven, so I went to the fabric store and got some linen-look fabric that I liked. I also experimented with three different ways of making it into bookcloth: backed with tissue paper filled with Heat'n'Bond (right), filled with a 50/50 mix of starch paste and matte acrylic medium (bottom), and filled with the paste/medium mix with a piece of tissue paper on the back (top).

I ended up liking the last option the best, though it meant the fabric lost the slubby linen-like texture I had selected it for. I wanted to go all-in on the tan wheat-tone theme, so I also printed the text on cream paper instead of white (the right typeset in the picture above).

I also added a tan bookmark, embroidered on gold headbands, and added an oxford hollow (although this book is a bit too thin to really need it).

When I went to cover the book, I had every intention of using gold HTV foil. However, I didn't take into account how the beads would inhibit me moving the iron around like I usually do with HTV (to avoid issues with the steam holes). It didn't end well. In fact, it ended very horribly.

The foil only partially stuck, and when trying to use the tip of the iron to apply heat only on the bits that hadn't stuck, the iron left a big black stain on my bookcloth. Luckily, it came out pretty well with a bit of baking soda on a nearly-dry toothbrush. I ended up asking a neighbor for some gold paint and using some regular vinyl as a stencil, which worked out OK. I found out later that it works better if you put down a layer of acrylic medium or the like first to avoid bleeding around the edges, but you live and learn.

Technical details:

Quarto size (quarter-letter, about A6)

Sewn on tapes

Sewn-on made endpapers

Chisel-trimmed

Rounded but not backed

Sewn-on endbands

Sewn-on bookmark

Oxford hollow

The tapes are frayed and glued to the exterior of the boards

The mull is also glued to the exterior of the boards

Full bookcloth cover

Things I especially liked about this bind:

The embroidery. It turned out pretty much exactly how I had envisioned it

The filled bookcloth. I don't think I'll do it by default, but I liked how it turned out and I like having it as an option in my back pocket

Things I'd like to improve for next time:

The title. I don't mind the paint rather than HTV foil, but I didn't love that it bled under the edges of the stencil. Next time I'll try using acrylic medium to seal the edges first, and see how that turns out.

The endpapers. I've been applying my endpapers with the covers open because I was concerned that they'd pull weird and possibly rip at the hinge. Unfortunately, this causes a big wrinkle in the endpapers that does not look nice. I figured out while doing the back endpaper that it actually is just fine to apply the endpapers as I close the covers on them because of the way I taper my boards and glue the mull on the outside of the cover.

Overall I'm moderately pleased. It's the highest-effort book I've made so far, and it turned out nearly how I had envisioned it with only minor issues.

[covertleathers]

Chapter 1: Smiling Faces Tell Lies

AO3 Link

Rating: 18+ Explicit, drugs, sex, murder, guns, blood

Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/m!Rook (they/them), Neve Gallus/Bellara Lutare, Taash/Lace Harding

Chapter Summary: A campy/gritty Disco Mafia Murder story taking place in 1970s New York City. Zi (Rook) is a down on their luck thirty-something who seems to have lost everything they had in one really awful week. They decide to head to one of their old haunts - The Viper's Den - a discotheque to relieve some stress. Unfortunately, this night out throws them into a bigger web of problems involving several murders, the law, and the mob.

Author's Note: I'm honestly very excited to share this because it's been so fun to work on! I've been listening to music, watching some 70s movies, and looking through old photos. Just so you know, I'm not the type to like, preload my chapters. I just post them as soon as I think I've got one finished enough to my liking. But, I've got plenty ideas swirling in my nogging for this.

Sheer luck. The rain had just stopped before Zi parked and got out of their car around the block from The Viper's Den. The 46th St club had been crammed for at least three hours by the time Zi arrived in their finest threads close to midnight. It was too easy to slip past security and bypass the line going around the block. They couldn't afford to pay the $25 for the cover (even if they could, they weren't gonna).

Full to the brim with cigarette smoke, silk, and sweat. This had to have been the hottest basement they had ever had the pleasure of cruising through. Surrounding them were hundreds of people, writhing to the beat. Plenty of delicious specimens for them to pick up that night. Man, woman, neither, it didn't matter if they were fine.

Just a little upper, some mezcal, a sweet high, and a hottie to bed. This was exactly the Friday night they needed after this incredibly fucked up week. Varric's dead and thus the print shop closed, losing the only semblance of employment they could keep, and Davrin still wasn't returning their calls. Fuck him. Always on his high horse… Zi wasn't like him, they couldn't hold down a real job. Oh maker, they missed him. No, they told themself, Have some self respect.

As they prowled the edge of the crowd, they kept an eye out for a familiar face. Usually, he was right at the bar…Yup, Elek. A slick, young dark-haired man who's smile captured most hearts pretty easily. Unfortunately, Zi never thought to get mixed up with him sexually or romantically, mainly because they grew up together. Two Brooklyn kids who were both caught in the muck of this city. Well, Elek was doing much better than Zi. Most were.

Elek must have saw them coming because he visibly sighed and shook his head, his gold chain nearly sparkled in the club's purple and rose lighting. He took a long drag of his cigarette, then knocked it against an ash tray on the bartop. Nursing a tall glass of what Zi assumed to be beer, he watched them approach.

From what they remembered, he wasn't related to The Den's owner, whoever she was, but somehow had free range of the place for selling and gambling. He was small game, though, compared to the other sharks that swam in these waters.

Elek was a piece of home, even if he had a hard time admitting it. They had history. If there was anyone who had what they needed to make tonight an extraordinary experience, he would be the one they'd tap. Which they absolutely were about to. You know…he looked good. Maker, they needed to get laid, this was ridiculous.

"Elek!" they called with a wave. Zi had to put on their charming face, a slight sideways smile seemed to always work. "Long time no see?"

An incredulous smirk crossed his face. "Rook," he said. "Looking for work?"

"Not tonight. And I don't sell anymore." they replied with a light chuckle. If they knew anything about Elek, he couldn't resist a cute face. Zi just had to turn the charm up to one hundred. "I was thinking, you look absolutely smoking in jewel green, is this a new sports coat—"

"You still owe me two hundred bucks, Rook," Elek casually remarked examining his watch. It looked new, gold-plated maybe. He was hiding a genuine smile behind that annoyed grimace, Zi felt like they cracked him a bit. "Want to bother me when you've got some cash?"

Right, they had totally forgot about that. A few months back Elek loaned them two hundred dollars to help cover their car note. That's why I stopped coming around so often, they mused awkwardly to themself. Shit.

"About that…" they sidled up next to him on the bar, leaning on their elbow and giving him a perfectly arched eyebrow. "My boss is dead, his print shop closed. I'm out of a job. I just need a…favor."

"Fucking…" he moaned. "Zi…do you like being like this?"

They winced on the inside, but knew not to show it. That smarted. Alluring grin still plastered on their face. To win Elek over you had to be all smiles and play to his kinder side. He didn't show it often and Zi had an unfair in to his good nature. They exploited it as best as they could. "Just one hit. It's all I'm asking for. I've had an absolute shit week and you know I'll get you back…eventually...and tell your mom I said 'hi'?"

Elek, exasperated and tired of fighting Zi's simpering act procured a tiny ziplock bag of white from his coat jacket. "If it's going to get your pathetic ass out of my face…"

"I love you!"

"Can it before I change my mind," he grumbled.

Zi got a bit closer to hid it from view and scooped away a pinky nail portion of its contents. A quick sniff and it disappeared. A familiar head rush and that wonderful heat to their face. An almost instantaneous confidence boost hit their brain like lightning. Fuck this was what it felt like to be alive. Suddenly, they felt the music pumping through their body so loudly it was impossible to stop themself from moving.

"You are a godsend," they cawed before grabbing Elek's face and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I owe you!"

"You already do, moron."

Riding that high, Zi flew to the dance floor. Fuck, nothing was better than this. Except sex. Maybe not. They couldn't decide in this state of mind and really didn't have to. The DJ made sure that anyone at the center of the dance floor could barely hear anything else but the beat. It was so loud, Zi felt their sternum bumping in time. This wasn't Soul Train. It was far messier and stickier with a layer of cigarette ash and spilled whiskey. Everyone danced with their shirts open, bodies packed tight against each other, glistening sweat rolling down their chests.

As they moved, Zi scanned the crowd for a new friend to bed. There were a fair amount of folks from what seemed like all over town. Qunari, elves, dwarves, a few humans. What mattered most to them was their moves. If Zi knew anything, great dancers were even better fucks. They would know, an art school drop out with nothing to show for it but agile feet and impeccable flexibility.

A fairly tall and lithe qunari locked eyes with them, a smile spread across her face and they drank in her long neck and silky chestnut hair. Lovely. Zi really did like brunettes. Were they in the mood for a tall glass of water or something more…exciting?

Then, Zi spotted him. Cutting through the dance floor with precision was a man in all black. Open collared shirt with rolled sleeves. A head shorter than them, built like a gymnast with slicked back black hair. He was walking with purpose in each step, slipping between revelers like a shadow. Oh, furrowed eyebrows and a determined stare! Unfortunately, they were a sucker for somber faces, too. Zi loved the look of a serious man with his mouth around their cock. It was its own kind of art.

It was probably the cocaine that made them grab his arm as he passed (it wasn't). In hindsight, they would have realized something was off. But, a bird couldn't resist a shiny object, no matter how sharp. The man paused as if snapped from a trance and whipped his head around locked eyes with them. A heavy brow, deliciously scarred lips. He was…handsome.

"You know the discoteque is for dancing!" They quipped into his ear, flashing what they knew was a captivating smile. No one could resist Zi when they turned it on tenfold. The shadowy stranger seemed surprised that someone noticed his crossing the floor. Unfortunately for him, Zi knew a good dancer when they saw one. "Show me what you can do!"

Zi studied him a bit closer in the dizzying, spinning spotlights at the center of the club. Under deep red shadows, spliced with stark white beams of light. He wore an expensive silk shirt and neatly tailored pants. Heavy leather belt. Silver diamond chain falling into some delectable looking chest hair. Italian shoes. Wow. Rich boy. They tugged his fingers and he followed with a long careful glance around. What was this guy's deal? He was acting like he had to go somewhere. "Looking for someone?"

"Yes."

A man of few words. Sexy.

"Dance with me in the meantime, I'll make it worth your while," they crooned in his ear as they sauntered closer, dragging a single finger down his chest. The stranger grasped Zi's wrist before they could pull at his belt. His grip was strong. Fine, they thought, and instead they guided his other hand to the small of their back, their waist asking his to move in time.

"One dance." The man stated firmly. They caught the accent that time. Spanish. And they picked up on deadly confidence. Zi glimpsed the ghost of a smile briefly grace his face. Oh, they had to figure out a way snag this one.

Of course they had been right. He could move. He must have been trained. They whirled together in a blur of black and maroon, keeping in step with each other as if they had done this one thousand times before. When Zi switched to a salsa, for the hell of it, he followed easily without missing a beat and took the lead. They felt lighter than air in his hands. And that was not the coke talking.

It was as if they were easily riding each other's rhythms like the tides. Their hip would collide, then separate and each instance sent their mind reeling in joy. It had been a very long time since they vibed with someone like this. They caught the smell of his cologne, musky sandalwood and leather, and that tipped them over. There had to be a way to get this guy to come home with them.

In all the nights they had cruised The Den, Zi had never seen him. Not that they knew everyone who passed through the club, but you get used to seeing the same bodies. You remember their movements. Recognize their limitations. And yearn for their possibilities. Which this newcomer had in spades.

Zi studied his face. He was half in it, half somewhere else. Espresso brown eyes scanning the club as they turned chest to chest at the center of the dance floor. It was almost unbelievable he wasn't entirely focused on the sculpted specimen before him. Zi never had this much trouble capturing someone's entire attention.

The song was coming to a slow down, ready to end this exhilarating venture. But Zi didn't want to stop. Beads of sweat were forming at their scalp from the stifling heat of a packed room. They didn't want to stop this magnetic connection. But, something had caught The Spaniard's eye, they knew they were losing him.

The stranger nodded at the end, inclining his head slightly, "Thank you—"

"No, thank you! You're an amazing dancer." they breathed, catching his wrist again before he could turn away. The music started to swallow them again. "Could I get your name? Your number? Maybe we could go out sometime? Do you like Chinese?"

He shook his head, whatever was weighing on him had his full focus now. Zi had become an afterthought, again. Expression changing dramatically to become grim and severe. The stranger was becoming more unknowable by the second.

Shit, shit, no! They panicked on the inside, I need this!

He delved back into the crowd, hand slipping from Zi's fingers with ease. The immensity of his presence on their hip left a looming empty space as he disappeared from view.

His loss, they grumbled internally and tried to let the music take them again in a haze of treble and synths. It wouldn't be hard to find someone else, they just needed to find the groove again.

Several candidates came into view as they spun through the crowns. Eventually, that Qunari woman found them again and their bodies were forced against each other as the crowd on the dance floor swelled and ebbed like tides in the harbor. Her name was Anjelika.

Zi asked over the music, "Come home with me?"

She gave an enthusiastic nod and smile. Fuck, she was gorgeous. An angel in white, Zi seemed to encircle and twirl with her for what could've been an eternity. They shared a cigarette, then an absolutely delicious kiss. Another, then another. They had feasted on her neck. She tasted like gin and lemons and ran her hand down the front of their trousers. The mysterious man slipped from their mind like water through their fingers. Only the wet essence left in his wake. Eventually, though, their high was fading.

It could have been well past 3 AM, they weren't keeping track of time. That's when the screams rang out. A record scratched and the music stopped abruptly, lights coming up to reveal the barren black walls of The Viper's Den.

"Uh…party is over, loves." The DJ stammered over the speakers, his voice slightly muffled by his facial hair against the mic. The crowd moaned in disapproval and folks weren't moving.

"Hey we paid the cover, we want to dance!" Someone said. Zi spotted a shot glass thrown at the DJ booth.

Another, "Yeah, we want to keep going!"

The sound of someone grabbing the mic and popping it against their palm, causing five agonizing seconds of horroble feedback that rocked their ears. "Get out you fucks! We're CLOSED."

Zi kept their arms wrapped around Angelika's waist, burying their face in her hair. She smelled so good. They asked again, "You coming, right?"

Then suddenly, she was all hesitation. They kissed again, her touches lingered on their neck and back, briefly pretending the music was going. There were plenty of others partiers were doing the same.

"Actually, I'm going to leave with my friends," she admitted with a sweet smile, glossy sweat sparkling down her neck. "You're a great dancer, though."

You've got to be fucking kidding me. At this point Davrin must have put a curse on them, because never had Zi came to the club and left alone. What the fuck is going on? They felt around in their shirt jacket and found their keys. Maybe it's a good night for a long drive home, then.

The crowd started moving back upstairs, murmuring anger and disappointment as they filed out. Zi followed, watching their feet in case someone dropped a bill or two. They ended up snagging three bucks. Ok, their luck hadn't totally run out.

Zi was one of the last stragglers to make it out of the cramped basement stairs. The club door was open to let in a cold wet draft, but also the sounds of walkie talkies…shit. The red and blue lights bounced around in the stairwell like memories of the dance hall. Guess they understood why the party stopped now.

All along the avenue were three or four cop cars, with officers stationed at the sidewalk, ushering partygoers out of the way before heading back inside. Eventually, they stretched caution tape over the club entrance. Zi glanced for Elek, hoping to catch him and ask what happened, but couldn't find their old friend among the lingering crowd across the street.

With one of the dollars they found, Zi bummed a cigarette, twiddling it between their fingers until they got into their car, one of the few consistent loves in their life. Wicked Grace, or Grace, for short. She was a 1969 Nissan Skyline, a car they had worked three odd jobs to get. Part time waiter, selling, and making prints at Varric's shop. Only one of those gigs turned out long term, until it wasn't. They popped open the glove compartment, rummaging around for their lighter. Dice, an old pair of aviators, a few parking tickets, condoms…no lighter.

"Fuck," cigarette hanging from their lip, they grumbled.

Zi turned over the ignition and powered the radio. Time to go home. Alone, they were reminded. It was the last thing they wanted. Or needed. In the face of Davrin kicking them to the curb, Varric's death, and in that no job. No cash. Nothing but Grace, a shitty apartment, it was all becoming too much. The precarious stack of cards they had worked so hard to build seemed to be collapsing. How could they call up Myrna and ask for the academy's help again? No, no. They'll find another way. There was no need to go nuclear.

Without warning, the passenger side door whipped open and a figure in black sat next to them. Not some drunk asshole…

Zi whipped their head and spat, "Hey, this isn't a fucking cab—"

Their cheek was met with metal so cold it nearly burned. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not again.

The shadow put pressure on the pistol's barrel against their face, "Drive. Fast."

"Hey, I don't want to get involved in whatever the fuck this is," Zi complained, their face pushing back on the gun.

"Battery tunnel. Now." he said. "Or I kill you and I drop you into the East River."

Zi hit the gas and pulled off. At this point they were convinced their life had become some cruel, tragic comedy. Down 7th Avenue as fast as they possibly could. Of course, it was 3AM, there was hardly any traffic so they were passing 42nd in less than a minute.

"Will you get that thing offa me—"

The shadow pressed it deeper, it was painful.

"Faster," he turned around, looking through the back window. Out of the corner of their vision Zi caught a flash of intense, dark eyes.

They gunned it, pedal almost to the floor, flying at speeds they only attempt on the expressway. Narrowly dodging other cars as they barreled downtown.

Grace swerved, nearly hitting a taxi on their left side. Zi, with many, many days spent putting her to the test was course correcting with little effort, but this Mexican standoff was making them more agitated by the second. You know how hard it is to make right turn with the business end of a gun jammed into your face?

Zi swallowed nervously, "If you're running from someone, you might as well tell me where the fuck we're going. I don't snitch."

"This is nice," the man remarked nonchalantly, admiring the interior and ignoring what they said entirely. "A powerful rally car. Fast."

At least he had taste in…wait, that voice. More specifically that accent. Once that panic subsided enough for them to think clearly, they realized. The Spaniard.

"You're…you're from the club." Zi stammered, fully recognizing the handsome man they had danced with earlier in the night. His face was cast in mostly shadow, but those eyes were unmistakable.

His stare changed, but only slightly. A sign of recognition. They had to win over his good graces. He was going to be a hard one to work, but Zi had cracked harder nuts. This night had turned into some twisted fucking nightmare.

The Spaniard paused, glancing down at the cigarette somehow still precariously dangling from their lips and reached into his jacket pocket. Zi flinched until they peeped the silver lighter gleaming in his fingers. Pistol still pressed firmly against them, he leaned in, flicking it open and alight just under the end. Close enough to get it to burn. They could still smell his cologne, just like from earlier, but now there was the distinct smell of…iron. Blood. His hands were covered in it. A few precious seconds with a semblance of calm passed and he let Zi take a long, exhausted drag.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

[sweetiemiller]

MARRIED AT FIRST SIGHT. kind of.

Joel Miller!AU x Reader.

hi again! so im doing it! ive read over it a million times and if there’s any mistakes please do forgive me. but here’s the full chapter of the start of my spiteful fic lmao.

kidding. im actually really excited to try something different and being embraced by a lot of you has been so great. so thank you everyone who sent a nice word or even just liked the post!

this will probably NSFW at some point. im still deciding when and how it’ll happen in the story but it’s going to be a lot of fun. the POV’s will jump around from chapter to chapter.

thanks to @highinmiamiii sending me the fic i was looking for! thank you! like i said before this fic is heavily inspired by https://www.tumblr.com/tokkiwrites/771944052123959296/game-show-hostjoel-miller-x-contestant-f

and the enjoyment of au!writing. it’s so freeing and let’s us explore characters in different ways. everyone please go read this story, it’s so good and they deserve every single bit of support.

ill stop yappin now and just post it!!

warnings— swearing. referring to killing Tommy Miller (will happen a lot), little bit of fluff for now. future warnings to come!

enjoy—

Chapter 1.

Joel’s POV—

Tommy Miller is a dead man. Joel thinks as he promises to whoever and whatever is above and below that he will personally kill him with his bare hands.

Those same bare hands that are clasped together so tight behind his back as he stands at the top of the aisle. His eyes were boring into Tommy’s who is currently standing up from his seat in the front row with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Yeah. He’s going to kill him.

The lights and the cameras are starting to make the skin on his neck prickle. The people behind the camera’s making him feel tense as his eyes flicker around the room.

He can feel jaw ticking and clenching as his eyes keep looking around the room and catching a few of the eyes of seeing the unknown bride to be’s family are staring at him too. Looking… well, friendly enough. For now anyway.

He can see their eyes scanning him.

Up and down, up and down.

From his slightly greying hair that is just sprinkling through his thick coarse hair. Right down to the black patent dress shoes on his feet that a woman named Jane from production had brought him along with this black three piece suit.

He thinks he looks good. But—

He doesn’t really care and if he was asked to give an honest answer right at this second he’d say exactly that. However, for the first time in a long time he willing to admit that he doesn’t look that rough around the edges.

Which is good, because in about 30 seconds his new wife is about to walk down the aisle.

Not legally of course. But for the sake of the show, he’s contracted to act like it is.

26 seconds.

Why Tommy thought that signing him onto goddamn Married At First Sight he’ll never understand. But the promise of a new Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883 and 60% of whatever income from the promotion the construction company will get from being on the show is more than enough to go along with it.

For now anyway.

14 seconds.

He just hopes whoever you are, you’re not one of those absolutely insane people who go on reality television just to cause drama. Because he will walk, cameras and contracts be damned.

He’ll buy his own Harley.

If he’s lucky he’ll get matched with someone who wants to promote their business as well and maybe they can come to some sort of agreement about this whole thing.

9 seconds.

Because who actually goes on a television show to look for love? Who genuinely believes that anyone could even fall in love under these conditions. Cameras. TV therapists. A group full of people who are desperate for their 10 minutes of fame.

It’s just not realistic.

5 seconds.

Joel snaps out his thoughts as he spots Tommy giving him a look. A look that Joel knows means, ‘Dude’, his eyes flicker back and forward before Joel realises what he’s saying. You’re coming down the aisle—

1 second.

Joel hears the doors cracking open and the music starting as soon as his eyes meet the huge white double doors at the end of the room. His hands clenching again as he keeps his focus on the door that’s opening and revealing who he is going to be stuck with for as long as he can handle in this absolutely ridiculous situation his brother has landed him in.

He see’s you walking through the doors. And he genuinely feels his breath get caught in his throat as he see’s your face for the first time.

Your eyes almost immediately meet his as you walk into the wedding hall with who he presumes is your mother. An older woman who’s eyes don’t even attempt to look at him, focused on you.

You look nervous. Terrified even.

Which, to his annoyance, makes him feel something in his chest as he watches you slowly making your way down to him.

He has to admit to himself. You’re genuinely beautiful.

And with that thought, all of a sudden he feels himself starting to panic. He realises wasn’t really expecting to find you attractive. He was fully preparing himself to be putting on his best face and foot forward during this process. His mind focused on that moment he has his first ride of his new Harley-Davidson the entire time.

But now, he’s going to have to focus on that damn bike to stop himself from doing anything goddamn stupid.

The closer you get to the bottom of the aisle, the harder he’s having to hold back a glare that is itching to aim straight for Tommy. But he doesn’t. Because he knows his pain in the ass little brother is going to have an even bigger shit-eating grin on his face now that he’s seen you.

It’s not until you’re kissing your assumed mother on the cheek and whispering something to her that he finally see’s you up close for the first time. His eyes feeling like they’re bouncing around his head as he takes you in.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph— he’s fucked.

The hair. The eyes. The nose. The goddamn lips. The white dress.

It’s not at all what he was picturing. He was fully imagining you and expecting you to go all out and look like princess cake topper. The show is paying for everything after all.

But no, you’re dressed in a long flowing silk dress. With little cap sleeves and the front of your dress making your tits look round and soft—

He has to stop.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything. But you’re already beating him to it with the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.

“I like your suit,” you say, the words falling from your lips like they were dragged out of you. Which admittedly— is very cute.

He lets a short puff of air escape his nose as he doesn’t quite laugh but, almost an amused look crosses his face as he looks down at you.

“I like your dress,” he says back, quietly but loud enough for you to hear. Or that least he hopes you do. Because he does like your dress, he likes it a lot actually, which surprises him.

He’s not a man to even care about dresses. Or anything stupid like that. A woman is a woman, he doesn’t care what they’re dressed in. But this dress on you? He’s struggling. Badly.

He watches you blush a little as you look down at your dress, running a hand over the front of it. The silk moving under your finger tips, almost hypnotising him for a moment before your soft laugh breaks him out his trance.

“Thanks. They gave my mom free reign in the dress shop,” you say with a soft, nearly genuine smile as you jut your thumb over your shoulder towards the woman who was walking you down the aisle now sitting in the front row behind you.

Ah, so he was right.

Joel smiles a little as he nods his head at your mom, being respectful for as long as he can handle this experiment.

Oh God he’s going to have to actually interact with your family.

He looks back at you, watching as your other hand is clutching your bouquet of sunflowers so tightly he’s actually a bit worried the stems might snap in half right here.

“She has good taste,” he says as his eyes travel back up to your face. He feels something twist in his chest again as he sees how nervous you look, and before he can open his mouth to give you just a little reassurance.

Knowing that the cameras and lights are probably making you just as nervous as him, someone clears their throat. Making you jump a little as his head turns almost too quickly to the sound tensing up a little until he see’s it’s just the very real officiant for this very real wedding.

God, what is he doing?

He hears her asking the both of you if you’re ready to begin and he just nods. He looks down at you and taking the chance to grab your free hand just right there. Temping him already.

He smiles a little bit as he sees the warmth spread on your cheeks and your almost wide-eyed facial expressions looking up at him.

Beautiful. He can’t help but let the thought sit at the front of his brain for a moment.

“You ready?,” he whispers to you, his own eyes going a little wide too from how fast his heart rate is going as he tightens his grip slightly as he watches you nod and breath out a soft, yeah.

He nods back as he turns back to the wedding officiant, taking a deep breath as he tries to focus on what the woman is starting to say, her very real speech.

Oh sweet Jesus, he needs to read the vows that Tommy wrote him.

This is going to be a nightmare.

[tiofrean]

Hey Sunder City fans! Hey Fetch Phillips enthusiasts! Let's do a thing!

Info from the poster beneath. The deadline is 6th of April 2025. If you have any questions, @ me :)

We also kinda wanna put it together as a pdf and post it around the publishing of Whisper in the Wind so that Luke may actually see it and hopefully smile while being smothered by the outpouring of love for his creation.

Please, reblog to spread it?

The full rules concerning the wide definition of fanart uploaded are here: [link to a pdf on google disk]

To all magical and non-magical creatures!

To celebrate the publishing of Whisper in the Wind on 29th of April, we’d like to invite you to create a fanbook with us. We aim to gather every expression of fan love and smash it into one giant pdf. How big it’s gonna be only depends on you!

The deadline is 6th of April 2025.

What can you submit? Well, the official prompt is a scene or a character from the Sunder City Verse. What can it be? A drawing, a painting, a photo of a cosplay, a poem, a fic, song lyrics, a statue, a chocolate figurine, a wood-carved piece… The possibilities are endless and we are excited for them all!

Don’t have an idea of what to create? No worries! Write a short - or long - comment on the books. Maybe you love one of the characters? Or one of the places in Sunder is exactly like your favorite restaurant in real life? Maybe you have some feelings concerning a specific magical creature? Or maybe you want to share your excitement about the new book? We will be happy to include all comments (keep them PG13, though).

The requirements are: - the maximum of an A4 page per participant - the deadline is 6th of April 2025 - the submissions should go to fetchfromsunder@gmail.com

In case of questions, don’t hesitate to send me an email or @me at socials!

[secretlittlerandezvous]

What Comes Next - Teuvo Teräväinen

Summary: Teuvo and Y/n visit their newborn niece for the first time. As he watches Y/n with their niece, he finds himself mesmerized by her warmth and natural instinct. He comes to the realization that he is ready to start a family.

Words: 921

The anticipation was strong as Teuvo and Y/n pulled up to Y/n’s sister’s house. It was a sunny afternoon, the kind of day that felt perfect for family gatherings. Y/n had been excited to finally become an auntie for months, and today was the day she and Teuvo would finally meet the little one for the first time. He was excited, but also a little nervous. He always loved kids but had never been in many situations where he was around babies.

When they entered the house, Y/n’s sister greeted them warmly, her eyes immediately lighting up as she introduced them to her baby girl. Teuvo was a little awestruck as he looked down at the tiny bundle in Y/n’s sister’s arms, but the moment Y/n took the baby in her own arms, his heart melted.

Y/n’s voice, soft and soothing, made Teuvo smile. She cooed to the baby in a way that made the little girl’s eyes light up, her tiny hands reaching out to Y/n. The baby settled into her arms, comforted by her presence as she gently rocked her. Teuvo couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by how natural Y/n seemed. The connection between them was immediate and deep. She was calm, composed, and full of warmth - everything Teuvo admired about her.

As they spent the afternoon together, Y/n and the baby formed an unspoken bond, and Teuvo found himself both in awe and a little surprised at how much his heart swelled at the sight. He had always known Y/n was loving and nurturing, but seeing her with a baby (their own niece making it even more exciting) brought out a side of her he hadn’t fully known. It was as if she was born to be a mother, and Teuvo couldn’t help but imagine her being that way with their own child one day.

Teuvo watched as Y/n held the baby with such care, expertly handling the little one’s small body and adjusting her to be more comfortable, all while continuing to talk to her softly. He noticed the way her face lit up when the baby giggled or wrapped her tiny hand around Y/n’s finger, and something shifted inside him. The desire to one day build a family with her felt so natural.

As the visit came to an end, Teuvo’s heart felt lighter, but also heavier in a way. They said their goodbyes, and Teuvo felt a strange mix of excitement and yearning as they walked out to the car. The image of Y/n holding their niece stayed with him, and as they drove home, the silence between them felt different. Teuvo kept replaying the afternoon in his mind, and it wasn’t long before he knew he needed to share his thoughts with her.

That evening, after a quiet dinner, they settled onto the couch together. Teuvo found himself nervously playing with his fingers, forcing himself to speak up. Y/n was curled up beside him, her eyes half-closed as she leaned into him, but he could tell her mind was somewhere else.

"You were amazing," Teuvo said, his voice quieter than usual. Y/n glanced up at him, giving him a soft smile. "It’s like you were born to do this."

Y/n laughed lightly, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well, she’s such an angel. It’s easy to be good with her." She shrugged, looking down at her hands, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

Teuvo’s gaze never left her. He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He reached for her hand, his thumb gently brushing over her skin. "No, it’s more than that," he said. "You were incredible with her, and I couldn’t help but think about us. About one day having a little one of our own."

Y/n froze for a second, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt. "Teuvo?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with curiosity.

Teuvo let out a quiet breath, his thumb still gently caressing her hand as he continued. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now," he admitted, his voice steady but full of emotion. "I want to build a family with you. Watching you with her today made me realized that we’re ready. You’re so amazing with kids, and I just know we would make great parents."

Y/n felt a lump form in her throat as she processed his words. She didn’t expect this conversation, but now that it was happening, her heart filled with warmth. She loved Teuvo more than anything, and the thought of raising a family with him, growing their love into something even bigger, made her heart race.

"You really think so?" Y/n asked. She squeezed his hand gently, needing to feel his touch as she absorbed everything he was saying.

Teuvo nodded, his eyes full of certainty and affection. "I know so. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/n. And seeing you with her just made me realize how much I want to share that with you. So, whenever you’re ready."

Y/n’s heart fluttered, a mix of joy and excitement blooming inside her. She always imagined a future with Teuvo and hearing him speak about it so openly, made everything feel even more real. She smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. "I’ve always been ready for a future with you."

Teuvo pulled her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Then we’ll make it happen," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

[millieduboisart]

A little look at my piece for @sing-it-togetherzine! 🌈👀

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos

[azuuuurin]

calling all raincoders, @neondownpourzine drops june 30th!

I'm really happy I was able to participate, and I'm really looking forward to the finished zine! there's tons of great stuff in there, I think you'll like it too <3

in the meantime, here's a preview for my piece! fubuki chibi by @rararazaquato

[valka]

「 fifteen days to dawntrail 」 🦋🌸🌼🦋💐🌺🦋

[copper-cu-29]

LIL SNEAK PEAK 🤭💓

#HelluvaBossFanart #HelluvaBossMillie #wip (NOT SEXUAL XD)

[reikunrei]

anyway. the collections manager from that zoological museum i reached out to got back to me yesterday and she said i'm allowed to have access and i got to tell her what i'm interested in seeing so she can see what's available :3

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 15 - Kindness (Free Day)

“Haurchefant!”, A’viloh yelled as he noticed the Elezen at the lower end of the staircase while looking down into the entrance hall. Quickly he followed him downstairs. “Rael told me you were looking for me.”

“Right.”, he said with a bright smile. “And here you are! I have to admit when you weren’t home yet when I arrived back home from the Congregation earlier, I was a little worried something might have happened to you on your way home.”

“Oh! No, I’m fine! I just brought Chloé to the stables and walked a bit through the city.”, the Miqo’te explained. “I am sorry if I caused you to worry.”

“No, it’s alright. I should have known you could take care of yourself after this impressive show of strength today.”, Haurchefant chuckled.

“Well... then let me use this opportunity to thank you once again for such a wonderful gift and also for your support and cheering me on like this.”, A’viloh said and smiled at the Elezen. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your and Rael’s help.”

But Haurchefant shook his head. “I’m sure you would have anyway. And it of course goes without saying that I should support such a good friend as you are.”

“I don’t think it’s that obvious.”, the Miqo’te pondered. “At least I am not taking it for granted. Also that you spent so much time with me the last few weeks. First at Camp Dragonhead, when I wasn’t feeling well, and now here. Your kindness helped me a lot in this strange city.”

Haurchefant laughed slightly and A’viloh realised what he had said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to insult your home of course. Ishgard is beautiful, as is this house. Very comfortable in fact… but still… it’s so unfamiliar for me. And some days I feel horribly lost and lonely.”

“That’s only understandable…”, Haurchefant offered reassuringly. “But I am glad to hear I could help you. I only wish for you to be happy. After everything you’ve done for all of us, you certainly deserve it.”

“I don’t know…”, A’viloh said and the sadness still lingered on his face. “I am not as special as all of you make it sound sometimes…”

“Of course you are!”, Haurchefant protested but A’viloh just shrugged. For a moment the Elezen seemed to think, then he exclaimed, “Oh! I know something that might cheer you up! Have you ever seen northern lights?”

“Have I ever seen what?”, A’viloh replied in confusion.

“Oh, splendid!”, Haurchefants beamed and asked a servant to fetch their coats. “I think you would love the northern lights, come one!”

Too puzzled to protest A’viloh followed him to the door, where a servants already handed the Elezen their coats. Quickly Haurchefant put on his own coat before helping A’viloh into his and then opened the door for him.

“Thank you.”, the Miqo’te whispered. “But where are we going?”

“Only to the pavilion.”, Haurchefant explained. “Don’t worry, you won’t freeze! There should be a fire. I can’t promise that we will see any northern lights though. It is rare for them to be visible from the city, but at least the sky is clear enough to see the stars tonight, so there is a chance...”

So far the night sky had mostly been hidden by clouds since they arrived here in Ishgard. At least the stars had never been so clear and shining as they were this night.

A’viloh found it strange how the stars over such a far-away and cold city could remind him of the night sky in the desert. The constellations were slightly different of course but the sea of glimmering lights was just as infinite and beautiful as he remembered.

There in fact was a small fire lit in a crozier inside the little pavilion at the side of Fortemps manor. The tiny building had been positioned so you could overlook some of the rooftops of Ishgard and also have a free view at the snowy mountains and the night sky above.

Since A’viloh had forgotten his gloves he stretched out his hands to warm them at the fire. Meanwhile Haurchefant stepped closer towards the lookout over the city and let his eyes scan the sky.

“There!”, he suddenly exclaimed and raised an arm to point at the sky. “It’s not much, but look, there in the distance!”

Curiously A’viloh looked up and followed with his gaze where the Elezen pointed. At first he couldn’t see anything but after a moment he caught sight of the faint, green glowing whirls in the sky. He gasped and hurried to Haurchefants side, leaning onto the banister of the pavilion to get a better look at this curious, beautiful appearance. For a few moment he just wordlessly stared to the sky, his eyes shining brighter with wonder than the stars in the sky.

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”, he whispered.

“Truly…”, Haurchefant replied but it wasn’t the sky he looked at. “There it is again, that pretty smile of yours.”

Startled A’viloh turned his eyes to Haurchefant who looked back at him smiling fondly.

Carefully the Elezen rested one hand on A’viloh’s and although it surprised the Miqo’te he didn’t pull it away. He wasn’t sure what this was but it felt comfortable. So often he felt horribly lost and hopeless and lonely but not when Haurchefant was around. His courage and cheerfulness were so contagious.

Tentatively the Elezen raised his other hand to caress A’viloh’s cheek and A’viloh couldn’t help but lean into the warmth he provided.

“I like you, A’viloh.”, Haurchefant confessed quietly and a little hesitantly the Miqo’te replied. “I like you too…”

He didn’t know if he really meant it the same way as him. But maybe this was enough for now.

“I would like to kiss you…”, the Elezen whispered almost silently and although it wasn’t a question it sounded like one.

What does it matter anymore?, A’viloh asked himself and nodded barely visible. Maybe I can be happy after all…

But he knew it felt wrong even before Haurchefants had leant down to him, about to close the distance between them.

He wanted to try, he wished it felt different but —

Wordlessly he raised a hand to the Elezen’s lips and turned away. Why did this feel so wrong all of a sudden? Why couldn’t he just he happy?

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered. “I can’t…”

Carefully he glimpsed to Haurchefant who looked so confused.

“There is someone else…”, A’viloh explained without really knowing anymore who it was he was talking about. But did it really matter? The result was the same. “There was, I mean… He is gone…”

“I am sorry…”, Haurchefant offered but A’viloh shook his head.

“No, I should be sorry.”, he repeated and evaded Haurchefants eyes with a sad expression on his face. “I’ve given you false hope. But I thought I could…”

“It’s alright.”, Haurchefant said softly and instead took A’viloh’s hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. ”You really don’t need to explain yourself to me. And no need for such a sad face. Wasn’t this a wonderful evening until now?”

“It was.”, A’viloh agreed and smiled as he noticed the Elezen was still smiling at him too.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”, Haurchefant asked but A’viloh didn’t want to ruin the mood a second time. “Maybe another time…”

The Elezen reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder.

“Fine. But you can always talk to me if you want. You are a friend, A’viloh, and you will always be, no matter what.”

A’viloh felt so silly for rejecting someone as kind as Haurchefant. He was such an unconditional, wonderful friend. He himself on the other hand…

“I just wished I could be such a good friend for others as you are…”, the Miqo’te admitted and looked to the ground.

This seemed to surprise Haurchefant. “What makes you think you are not?”

Sharply A’viloh laughed. “Oh, only their faces when they look at me. Lately all I do is cause them to worry. Have you looked at Rael recently? Ever since we fled, every time I talk to them, they seem more and more troubled and withdrawn and I cannot tell why…”

“Hmmm…”, Haurchefant tilted his head in thought. “Rael certainly seems like something is bothering them and indeed they were worried about you. But are you sure this change is your fault? Do you think I should try to talk to them instead?”

“If Rael doesn’t talk to me, I doubt they will talk to you…”, A’viloh explained with a sigh. “If I just could so something to cheer them up…”

“Why don’t you?”, Haurchefant asked. “Certainly there is something Rael likes that would make them happy?”

“Books?”, A’viloh offered but didn’t sound convinced.

“I think there’s more than enough in our library already…”

“Magic and potions? But what do I know about that?”

“Isn’t Rael already studying with the astrologians? But maybe they would like to talk about it… what else?”

“Nature? Yes! And animals!”

“Ah! That’s something we can work with!”, Haurchefant exclaimed. “Sit down! I’ll pull the fire a bit closer. I’m sure we can figure something out….”

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than love

Finished up Trauma Team, and I gotta say, the difficulty was consistently way lower than Under the Knife. Even the final Twisted Rosalia operation was easy. But wait, beating the game unlocks hard mode! I'm so sorry, I wasn't being fair, I was judging the difficulty by the first playthrough, I should really try out the hard mode to see if-

I beat hard-mode Twisted Rosalia on the first try.

So yeah, no idea what to expect for UtK2's difficulty

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"