#and all that does is mean that I'm getting nothing done

[prael]

An Oral Agreement

QWER Magenta x male reader

Masterlist word count: 3,008 Kofi(donations/commissions)

She's equal parts infuriating and fascinating.

Magenta.

No last name. Or maybe that is her last name. Either way, that's all it said on the rental agreement and her bedroom door when you first moved in: Magenta. The letters were all lowercase like she was too cool for proper grammar. You know Magenta, in the Biblical sense (and it didn’t take long).

She's always in her room streaming or recording or...doing whatever it is social media influencers do when they aren't online. But she likes candles, fried rice and catcore aesthetics. She thinks pumpkin spice season starts September 1st and she loves reality TV. Not exactly the makings of a deep and spiritual connection.

Now, living with Magenta, well, it has its ups and downs.

There are some things that never get done around here without you doing them; she rarely cooks, which wouldn't bother you so much if she at least did dishes once in a while. It doesn't help that she takes long hot showers. In a house with only one bathroom, this can really put a cramp in your morning routine.

Magenta doesn't clean the place very often either. At first, you just let it go because everybody has their own ways of doing things, right? But after a few weeks of living together, you realised that she's just...not going to do it. Like ever. So then there's nothing for it but to either live in a constant state of messiness or bite the bullet yourself.

Sometimes you feel like you're not living with a roommate so much as providing lodging for some kind of freeloading spirit that passes through periodically.

When you first moved in, you were worried about what your roommate might think of you: would they be weirded out by your habits? Would they judge your taste in decorations? Would you get along? Would you have enough space for both of you?

Those fears melted away pretty quickly once you met her. You could tell from the moment she opened the door that day (and didn't even look up from her phone) that she didn’t care.

You soon learned that Magenta is messy but friendly. She stays up all night and sleeps during the day. She's everywhere online: Instagrammer, Tiktokker (is that what they call it?), live streamer or these days she’s even on the radio and TV. She doing something for one of those things right now, with her bedroom door closed and music playing faintly behind it.

You're standing in the kitchen, staring down her latest infringement. Now, these empty take-out boxes were here this morning when you left. They were also here last night, and yesterday afternoon, and...you get where this is going.

"Hey, you awake in there?!" you shout towards her bedroom but get no response.

With a sigh, you walk over to her door and knock. Twice. Then again, louder when you still get no response. Finally, you resort to pounding on it repeatedly until it suddenly swings open to reveal your roommate shouting, "What!?" You step back, slightly taken aback by how loudly she said that single word. Her eyes soften instantly, though when they land on you.

She looks good. Not even just in a 'good for someone who hasn't slept yet today' kind of way. Just straight-up hot. Magenta wears a faded pink crop top emblazoned with an anime character and little cut-off cotton shorts covered in cookie prints. The low waistband of the shorts hangs off her hips, exposing the start of a light purple thong that cuts diagonally across her hip bones.

"I think our apartment might get condemned if you don't clean sometime soon."

Your roommate leans against the door frame. She pushes some dark brown hair behind her ear as she says, "Can't you do it for me? Just this once?"

"Just this once?" you repeat, crossing your arms. Your lips curl into a smile as you ask back to her, "Can't you do it just this once?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm always reminding you to clean, and you never do it. So guess who does it? It's not the magical cleaning fairy—it's me."

Her eyes roll skyward so forcefully you imagine you can hear them squeaking in their sockets.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" she says. "This seems really petty."

"It's not petty," you protest. "I have stuff to do and I shouldn't have to keep picking up after my adult roommate." You say the word 'adult' laden with implications. She gets your meaning immediately. Her lips twist.

"oh, I get it," she says with a smirk. "I guess it's been a while since I gave you a little thank you. Well, I need to get this video finished, so could you maybe clean it up and come back here after?"

So there's the perks. Two of them actually, as she pulls up her pink crop top and flashes you what's beneath. A pair of purple lace bra cups strain to contain your roommate's ample endowment. Pale skin pours out from beneath them, flesh squeezing together into a deep cleavage that entices you closer even as you shake your head.

"You can't keep pulling tricks like this, Magenta," you say, trying desperately to hold onto your train of thought while also enjoying the view. It helps that you know those breasts intimately. Hell, you've worshipped those breasts. They've spilt around your hands, smothered your face and laid upon your thighs. You know what the soft warmth inside each cup feels like. And, God, they feel really fucking good.

"I really appreciate your help and everything," she says, her bottom lip suddenly pushing out into a cute pout that goes well beyond suggestive. "And I'd like to show you just how much I appreciate it..."

Your resolve lasts right up until Magenta runs a finger down one of her tits to tease along the edge of the lacy purple material. That's when you give up. There's no point in fighting anymore—she has won this battle (just like all others).

"Just go finish your work already," you finally say, letting out a sigh.

Magenta smiles and giggles, lowering her shirt. "Thanks. Love ya!"

With a wink, she slips back into her room. You stand alone for several seconds before shaking your head. Back to cleaning, then.

-

It's not exactly easy to focus on sorting the recycling into the correct bins when your roommate has just reminded you how nice her tits are. They're on your mind a lot, to be honest. More than they should be probably. Sometimes they're on your cock, though not as often as they should be. Probably.

You're counting your blessings that none of the neighbours are doing late-night recycling because then you'd have to explain why your face is red and your pants are bulging.

That doesn't stop the occasional glance towards your neighbour's house, where Mrs Kim likes to smoke on her front porch some nights. You think she smokes more than she should, but that's really none of your business. Her watching you from across the street, however, is very much your business, so you peek over your shoulder once in a while to check if she's spying. Again. Or still. Whatever.

One last box. The light outside is fading rapidly, but you can just barely make out that it comes from...the Greek place you love?

Oh. Oh no. Did she eat gyros and not bring you any? Damn, that girl knows how to be cruel!

When the recycling is finally squared away you dust off your hands. It's a symbolic gesture since all you've done is shove cardboard and glass into the right bins, but it makes you feel accomplished nonetheless.

Back in the apartment and lock the door behind you.

"There you are. Where have you been?"

"The bins, have you ever seen them before?" You mock while still fiddling with the lock chain.

"That was quick," comes her response. Your eyes follow the sound of her voice. Magenta is lying upside-down on the couch. She swings her feet lazily in the air while looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades nearly to the floor. Those short shorts mean you can see most of her long legs. Then there's the curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh... "Get over here."

It's a rare occasion that Magenta voluntarily puts her phone down, yet she does just that as you walk over. The closer you get, the more enticing her position becomes: laying across the couch, head tipped backwards off the cushions to watch you approach her.

"So," she says. Her fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her belly. The fingers trace lines up and across her abdomen, moving between the edge of her shorts and her top. The motion catches your eye—and she knows it. "I owe you, don't I?" Her eyelids flutter innocently. Or rather, far less than innocently.

"For today? Yeah. Definitely." You clear your throat and try again, "For quite a few days, actually."

"Quite a few," she echoes in agreement. Her hand continues to crawl upward until it reaches the peak of her breasts rising beneath her faded pink crop top. The movement presses the supple skin together in a way that has you standing right in front of her before you even realize you've walked over.

She pushes them hard together before letting them settle back to normal. Gravity spreads them apart, flesh pouring across her chest from the tightly gathered fabric keeping them barely contained. She reaches out over her head, to you, and grabs you by the belt buckle. Pulls you forward until you are stood over her. Even though she's upside down, she makes such effortless work of unbuckling the leather strap that you barely notice. One second it's on; the next it's flapping loose.

It takes only two sharp tugs to force your pants and boxers down past your knees. Magenta doesn't waste any time reaching out to touch your cock, gently running her hands over it until she can wrap her entire hand around the warm shaft and pull you until you fall to your knees. Her head hangs right in front your your length, and you see the teasing sparkle in her eye even upside down.

Her hot breath hits the skin of your bare cock. Lips press a series of soft, wet kisses down from your tip towards your balls. Then back up again, trailing even more tiny pecks that leave your skin tingling. You let your cock nudge against her cheek, feeling it slide along the smooth skin.

With both hands wrapped around your cock, Magenta holds your tip right in front of her mouth. Her tongue sticks out from between her lips, slowly, methodically lapping circles around the crown of your cock.

"Oh, God," you mutter, and you need to hold onto something, anything. First, it's the couch, then it's her tits.

Your hand lands heavily atop the nearest swell of flesh and squeezes tight, pushing it further out of her crop top. She hums approvingly at the groping and wraps her lips around your cockhead. Suckles sweetly. Slurps noisily until spit pools at the corner of her stretched lips.

She lets gravity help guide your cock into her waiting mouth. The further you slip inside, the more she relaxes her jaw to accept you. But then she reaches up and pulls on your hips. You glide up against her grateful tongue. Until her nose meets your stomach. She gags. It's so fucking lewd.

The whole thing makes you squeeze her chest harder. So big in your palm and yet somehow always bigger than you remember. You forget sometimes just how incredible these tits are. When they bounce in a video she's recorded, you remember—but never quite how heavy they are when you hold them; the way they give to your grasp in exactly the right amount; or the way her nipple puckers just slightly as it stiffens beneath your kneading grip.

"You're so sexy like this," you say.

The compliment elicits an appreciative groan from Magenta. Her head moves with your hips now, bobbing to meet each thrust, spit dripping down her cheeks. The messiness of the sloppy blowjob matches her other personality traits frighteningly well.

With her head pinned and her arms on you, you're free to pull up her shirt and expose her. The dirty minx has taken off her bra, so the expanse of her milky skin greets you. You cup them in each palm, feeling the heft of them, squeezing them greedily. They push back, moulding into the shape of your desire, and she moans, a low guttural note vibrating right through your length.

Her body writhes beneath your attention. Her thighs spread outwards, feet rolling at the ankle in time with each gently guided thrust into her throat. Fingers squeeze you, scratching lightly at the skin above your ass to encourage you deeper inside her hungry maw. Deeper into her throat until she chokes—

You let up, panting, admiring the sight of her stretched out for your viewing pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you from her upside-down position. The intensity in them draws you in again.

"Oh shit," you groan as you drive into her, plunging your cock balls deep until her purple-painted nails dig into the small of your back. You pump faster, lost in the warm embrace of her greedy sucking.

Magenta squirms beneath you, whining and groaning and bucking, begging you for more. Her cunt must be throbbing with anticipation. Poor thing wants your cum. You can tell.

You want her tits.

She gasps when you fully withdraw from her mouth. Her face is a fucking mess of saliva and smudged makeup. Before she can question you, you reposition yourself in front of her, straddling her beautiful face as you lower your rigid length between her breasts.

She's quick to pick up what you're putting down. With both hands pressing the creamy flesh of her boobs inward, she creates a tunnel for you to slide your dick into.

It feels as good as it looks. Soft pressure envelops your slick length, wrapping around the sensitive skin and creating a delightful sleeve for you to hump into. You can't get enough.

As soon as you hit a good pace, fucking your roommate's chest hard and fast, she starts giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"It tickles." Her laugh is breathy but not as loud as it usually is. "Keep going."

So you do. Thrust after thrust you plunge deeper, drawing more and more of yourself into the valley between her perfect tits. The more you use her, the further she parts her legs that run up the back of the sofa. Soft thighs splayed for nothing but display. Then, just as you start to admire them, she clenches them together. Your eyes trace down the pale skin until they arrive at her crotch where the bottoms of her cookie-patterned shorts have ridden up against her wet slit. She's gyrating her hips in all sorts of directions and rubbing herself against the material in some attempt to satiate her growing needs.

The soft flesh of her midriff jiggles between the thrusting into her tits and the twisting of her hips below. You can't stop staring. Fuck. How does this girl have every single curve?

At first, you try holding back—you want this to last longer. But after a few seconds, you realize you can't fight this feeling. Not when you've got such a good view. And certainly not with her nipples so hard under the press of your thumbs. She arches up when you pinch them, and you know you're done for.

And then, as if she can feel it by the way you're thrusting, she begins to coo and beg under you. She knows she's getting you close, and she wants it. Bad.

"Cum on me," she coaxes sweetly, the words barely audible over the slapping sounds. "I've been so bad, baby. You deserve to paint my body."

That's all it takes. That final little plea. Your eyes roll back, your hips snap forward and your cock explodes. Thick ropes over her body, the first reaching her thighs before you adjust your aim and finish across the plane of her belly. Soft curves take your load while she encourages you through soft, little pleasured mewls. You may have got some on her shorts, but you paint her stomach white before pulling up and jerking the final drops onto her chest.

"Mmmm, messy boy," Magenta laughs breathlessly as your cum drips down her curves. She lays there beneath you, her smile wide and wickedly innocent, one hand slowly running circles over the sticky mess on her tummy, smearing it across her skin.

After a few seconds of panting and trying to gather yourself, you climb off of her and sit back against the couch. She turns so her head rests in your lap, facing your spent and dripping length. Magenta teases you still by using her own fingertip to collect your seed and place it across her lips, then licking them clean while making sure you're watching. And fuck are you ever.

"So, about my room," she purrs, eyes twinkling mischievously up at you.

"What about it?"

"Well... It needs cleaning, and I was thinking—"

"No," you feign protest, knowing you've already agreed. "Just clean it yourself." Her negotiation will come next. You can see it on her lips. "I'm not doing it."

Magenta leans up and whispers, "But you might change your mind if you find out what's waiting for you beneath my shorts."

That damn purple thong, still visible at her waistband, calls you toward her like a beacon. "What's beneath your shorts?"

Her laugh is playful. A little shrug as her fingers toy at the hem of the garment in question. "Agree to clean my room and you’ll find out."

[ladymercysletters]

Higher - Prologue #1: an Aemond Targaryen Series

Synopsis: Y/N Targaryen is the daughter of Rhaenerya Targaryen. Her parentage is disputed though unlike her younger brothers hers is not certain. Whilst they all share the same dark curls of Harwin Strong; Y/N shares her mother’s platinum with a dark streak running the underside of it. There are some, like Queen Alicent, who take this as a sign that her true father is obviously also Harwin Strong – Rhaenerya just getting extremely lucky that most of your hair was white. Others, including you mother, point out Laenors mothers, Rhaenys Velaryons, dark Baratheon hair, and that it obviously comes from there. But wherever your true blood lies you’ve always felt more dragon than anything else.

Word Count: 2,298

Rating (per chapter): none

A/N: Prologue is set when Aemond and reader are young. As I can neither remember, nor care to double check, I'm saying they're around 14 ish. If some of the timelines don't quite match up, does it really matter.

You had no idea where your mother was. Somewhere in the castle most likely; and your father? Which one? By right or rule of birth your father Laenor was nowhere to be found. You could hazard a guess that he was with his Lannister knight. They seemed good friends and you often saw them together. By blood or a guess Harwin Strong of the Kings Guard was teaching your brothers to defend themselves from their uncles, Aegon and Aemond in the training yard; and Daemon, you didn’t have the faintest idea. You rarely saw him and hadn’t seen him since his arrival with his family that morning.

Sitting in a stone alcove overlooking the training yard you pondered your newest sibling. Your mother was due to give birth in but a few days if she held on, and you truly hoped this one would be a girl. Not that you didn’t love your brothers, but boys could be so mean. You looked out of the window and saw how Aegon was mean to his brother Aemond, and goaded your own brothers to join in.

It wasn’t long since being here that you barely recognised them as they picked and taunted your youngest uncle like crows. Helaena had so much more of a sweet temper, and she truly felt like a sister to you when she was there, but she was barely ever there; in the room, on the same plain of existence as anyone else.  

Harwin never made his favouritism more obvious than when they were sparing. Even the lightest blow and he was pushing the two Targaryen princes from Jace and Lucerys and berating them. He was even protective of you on occasion but never as much as the boys; just about everything involving you was in half measures compared to your brothers.

You wandered down to the training yard, sick of being by yourself. You almost made it there before Aemond came running down the corridor at you, pushing past just to duck into a room and lock the bolt with a thud. You spun back around to see the main of Aegon’s wavy hair glowing around his head from the light behind him.

“What have you done this time!” you barked, squaring up to your eldest uncle despite your difference in height. Your brothers were behind him, giggling to themselves like a pack of hyenas.

“Just a laugh, niece. Nothing more than a joke. Only some are not yet man enough to take it.” He finished with a shout down the corridor. They all moved past you, bowling down the dimly lit tunnel to the Keep, they obviously didn’t see where he went. As soon as you knew they were out of sight you walked slowly over to the locked door and tapped.

“Aemond. Its me.” You called quietly through the cracks. “They’ve gone. Can you let me in?” You could hear his sniffs get closer as the door unbolted; cracking open just an inch so you could squeeze through. Pulling your gilded blue dress through the small frame you were met with your uncles red nose and pinked cheeks. “Oh Aemond” you began before he cut you off.

“I’m fine. Its fine.” He started, turning to walk back into the room, facing away from you. Even from your short glace you could see both of his eyes were bloodshot. You pulled your small handkerchief from your sleeve and draped it over his shoulder. This caught his attention, and he turned to find you not so subtly looking up at the ceiling and the tall beams that held it up, just so he was sure you couldn’t see his tears fall.

You sat in silence for a while. You often did, both of you finding it comforting just the two of you, not saying anything; but no one needed to. Eventually you both found yourselves sitting intertwined on the small bench at the end of the room. Your legs were placed over his, his head on your shoulder and yours resting over his; both your hands played with the others.

“I heard mother the other day.” Aemond started. “She was begging father not to betroth Helaena to Aegon. He says it is a good match to keep our blood pure.” His voice was small, and you could almost hear a question in it.

“Poor Helaena” was all you could mutter. And poor her you felt. You were both almost of age and you knew your mother and father had already discussed your future, to some extent at least. “Poor Aegon as well”

“Why poor Aegon?”

“Well, I don’t suppose he wants to marry Helaena any more than she would him.” stroking the back of Aemond’s hand. He huffed but accepted your answer. He sat up a bit and you switched with him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Aemond looked down at you. His hand reached around and fondled with your hair, the silver strands rolled back in small braids from your face, he felt around until he found the little patch of dark hair. He liked to play with that bit the most; perhaps it was because that was what they always teased you about, how even if they were bastards at least they knew who their father was, whereas you could be anybody’s! It wasn’t usually your brothers saying that, just Aegon. But he knew how to spin it to make them laugh at you as well.

Aemond sighed to himself as you relaxed against him. You’d been in the glorified cupboard a while now and he was sure they’d forgotten their search for him and moved on, but he didn’t want to move; not when he could hear you talking about something he feels he really should be paying attention to.

“… from the Reach, and the Riverlands, but she says I don’t have to think about my betrothal until I’m at least seven and ten years old. She says grandsire made her tour at fifteen and she hated it!”

“Betrothal?” Aemond blurted, sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking Y/N from her resting place “to whom?” he cried.

“Well, no-one yet. That’s the point.” You looked up at him and smiled. Aemond’s insides clenched when you did.

“Well don’t.” he said, matter-of-factly. To be honest he didn’t know what else to say. He was suddenly hit with the thought that you wouldn’t always be with him, around him, and he couldn’t stand it. Tears welled up suddenly in his eyes and he pulled out your hanky again to stop the tears.

You reached up to pull his hand from his face, tutting lightly as you saw his watery eyes. Taking the hanky from his hands you gripped them as you dabbed at his eyes.

“Okay” you murmured, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Aemond’s eyes widened at your action, his face flushing. You settled back against him in another comfortable silence, this time with a strange sort of certainty in your future.

**

A week later and you were still in Kings Landing. Not that you minded, but your mother had still not birthed and the maesters were beginning to get worried. Your father/s were more present, you noted, each one also becoming slightly more concerned at the late hour of this pregnancy.

You were sat with Helaena and the Queen, embroidering a handkerchief with a small silver dragon when Aegon came bowling in, followed by Lucerys.

“Mother! Ladies” he bowed comically. The Queen rolled her eyes but said nothing, drawing her attention back to her tapestry. “What do we have here then niece.” He said, lying sloppily next to you, grabbing the soft cotton from your hands.

“Give it back Aegon.” You snapped quietly, reaching out for it.

“Ah ah ah” he tutted. “Don’t snatch niece.” That irked you more. He always called you niece to belittle you, despite you being closer in age than his own half-sister. The Queen looked over the two of you, watching as her eldest son loomed over you teasing. Becoming bored of her tapestry she set it down beside her and left, never one to entertain her children for too long.

Aegon looked over the work in his hand, the corners of his mouth turning down as he was impressed with the small delicate stitches and beading that caught the light. “Why not make it gold niece.” He said finally, throwing the cloth back in you lap as he stood. “to match my glorious Sunfyre.” He smirked down at you before sauntering out again.

“A green bead. A blue bead. A green bead. A blue bead.” You turned to see Helaena muttering softly into her work. She wasn’t beading; you thought. Just sewing golden thread into the wings of her beetles.

**

At dinner that evening your mother was absent again. You almost requested you meal to be brought to your room but the Queen had insisted you eat with your brothers and her children. Silently you all sat, heads staying down after your prayer. Then you heard a noise. A snorting. Grunt.

Aemond stiffened beside you. Your eyes flickered to watch him before darting over the table at your brothers, each of them giggling between themselves. You looked over to Aegon – he was smirking.

“Jacerys” you scolded quietly, glaring daggers at him to get him to stop.

“What. Sister I am not doing anything.” He smirked. The Queen interjected.

“Velaryons. I hear your mother is in her labours.” She breathed. Setting her cutlery down. “That is good news is it not. After so long I’m sure you will all be glad to greet your new sibling.”

“Very much so, your grace.” Your eldest brother said politely, turning to her.

“I’m sure you are all looking forward to going home.” You could tell by the way she sighed as she said it, she was just looking forward to you leaving. Aemond looked over to you as you caught his eye, both of you silently sad that you would be leaving again in the not-too-distant future. “Y/N” she broke once more, grabbing your attention “You will no doubt be keen to return home” she smiled rigidly.

“Why is that?” you asked slowly, stuttering over the words in confusion.

“Well, I’m sure when your mother is well recovered you will need to prepare for your coming out. My husband tells me he has already received ravens enquiring when you are to tour for a husband. I’m sure your mother will want to prepare you herself.” She said curtly.

“Oh. I suppose so.” You said meekly. You knew your mother had received ravens, but to hear your grand-sire had also been in receipt of them made you fear he would use you as a bartering tool.

“I wouldn’t worry niece.” Aegon broke the silence, sensing your nervousness. Everyone looked up to him, surprised at his concern. “If you do manage to receive a decent proposal, the poor sod will have to first work out which father to ask! Ha!” he slapped his knee in jest at his fine joke.

“Aegon!” the Queen snapped. Aemond stood bolt upright next to you, knife gripped in his hand by his side as he stared down at his brother. Aegon laughed

“What are you going to do with that brother?” he questioned laughing. “Carve me up and eat me?”

“Show some respect brother.” Aemond muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes rolling over your brothers sat next to his own; dismayed that neither of them stood to defend you. Aegon scoffed but said nothing; kicking his feet from the ground as he stood, bidding his mother goodnight as he left.

You placed a small hand on Aemond’s wrist that held the knife. He seated himself back down next to you, placing the knife on the table as he whispered a small apology to you.

“There is nothing to be sorry for. Thank you.” You whispered back, hand not leaving his. You suddenly felt the Queens eyes boring into you and moved your hand swiftly from her son.

**

You wept quietly as you packed your trunk. Your mother had birthed your newest brother a week ago. Another brown-haired boy: and now you were set to leave again for Driftmark. You had sent the maids away, content to pack your belongings yourself in silence. Folding up some of your stockings you pushed them down into the corner of the trunk, sniffing deeply.

A low rumbling took your attention from the ground and you looked over your shoulder to the bookshelf in the corner of your room moving across the floor.

“Aemond!” you gasped, seeing your uncle emerge from the secret passageway. You ran across the room to embrace him. Since your departure had been announced you had not seen much of him; his mother keeping him away any time you asked after him – insisting that he was in his studies and must not be disturbed. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Y/N. You are leaving today?” he muttered

“Yes. Shortly. I just need to finish packing.” You drew back from him but did not release your arms.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to leave either.” You sniffed. Fresh tears willing in your eyes. “I hate boats.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I brought you a book. For the journey.” You took the small book he produced from his back pocket and looked it over. As you turned it a small letter fell from between the pages. Aemond gasped and swiftly scooped it from the floor, pushing it back between the pages. “Don’t look at that until you have left. Promise.” He said blushing.

“promise.” You smiled.

[royalthedemigod]

alright, so I was thinking about beetlebabes. and, how could anyone not ship it? so, everyone talks about how in love beetlejuice is. but, what about lydia? i mean, surely, she did fall in love with Richard (astrids dad) at one point (obviously). but, after that, rory was just a rebound. here are some examples:

Scene 1: She could've gone to any other ghost (cause, you know, she has that ability), but she doesn't. She goes to Beetlejuice. and, immediately shows him and asks what everything means. cause, he must know everything, right? he knew everything last time. everyone thinks this was an "only hope" thing, but I don't think it was. No, not with Lydia.

and, she's terrified of the other side. she wasn't terrified of him. she stayed close to him the whole time.

Scene 2: as soon as he tells her the directions, she asks "where are you going?!" now, this could mean anything, i suppose. but, he was supposed to be by her side the whole time. "where are you going? weren't you supposed to lead me to her? i thought you weren't leaving?" Until he says "I'm going to the little boys room". Obviously, she gets annoyed at this and just finds Astrid anyway. Cause, she can't make him go with her....but he should've.....

Scene 3: This is the part where Beetlejuice shoots Rory with truth serum. Now, I don't exactly know if she saw what he was doing to Rory or not. So, I'm leaving that out. But, notice how, instead of moving away from Beetlejuice, she moves closer to him. She could've moved closer to her mom, or daughter, but no. She chose to move towards Beetlejuice. After, when he gave her that boxing glove, she punches Rory ONLY. She still hasn't hurt Beetlejuice in any way.

The fact that nothing is making her stay near him. She willingly stays there behind him. Still hasn't done a single thing to him. (i mean, neither has Delia and Astrid. They're all willingly standing there with him.)

Scene 4: This is where Astrid gets ahold of the book, and decides to summon a sandworm. Now, the reason Astrid did this was to to distract everyone so they (Delia, Her, and Lydia) can leave. Lydia thinks way differently. When she notices what they're doing, she looks to Rory and Rory only. Like, "yeah, you're screwed!" She doesn't look at anyone else, not even Beetlejuice.

Last Scene: After Astrid tells him off, Lydia rejects him. But, the only reason she does is because of the "6,000 year age gap". Not "Oh, you did stuff to my family", not any other reason. Because of the age gap.

Once she says his name 3 times, he blows and leaves. She looks back at him like "oh, that look like it hurt". Cause she thinks it did. Obviously, it didn't, but she doesn't think that.

Final Thoughts: I think she's just scared of genuine love. I mean, the last time she had genuine love was with Richard. And, they barely lasted. She said so herself "Our marriage was over before the accident". And, because Rory clearly didn't give her shit, she got scared. Not of Beetlejuice, but of what Beetlejuice is showing her.

If there ever is a 3rd movie, I really hope they get married. It's very well deserved for these 2.

This is the song I was listening to when thinking about beetlebabes, btw. (it also reminds me of Aziracrow. but, thats just me!)

[anxious-lee]

|| Ridiculous Problems Require Ridiculous Solutions ||

A/N: me going to sleep at night knowing i write OOC tickles for serious media: 😴😴😴

Summary: Jayce refuses to get some sleep, but Viktor might have a way to convince him.

Word count: 1292

---

It's easier to scold someone else's lack of self-care than it is to work on your own.

When Viktor neglects his sleep, Jayce knows exactly what to say every time. "You can't keep overworking your body like this. Sooner or later, you're going to shut down."

But when Jayce neglects his sleep, he finds new ways to rationalize his decision thanks to his sleep-deprived daze. He pretends like he can't see Viktor staring ironically at him from down the table.

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit of a hypocrite. But these were special circumstances! They were expected to present a new Hextech device to the council in a few days, and they were running behind schedule. Jayce had tried to speed things along by putting in a few more hours at his station, but what was supposed to be "a few hours" turned into the entire night.

Viktor, as Jayce expected, was none too pleased. He insisted that they had already done more than was even necessary, and that any more modifications could have been dealt with in the morning. He even had the nerve to parrot Jayce's own lecture back to him.

"If you keep this up, sooner or later your body will shut down."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Jayce groaned sarcastically. Regardless of his ill-advised choices, this machine still needed finishing, and that was what he was going to do.

He couldn't quite remember getting up out of his chair and making his way over to the toolbox, as the world seemed to blur around him, but a curmudgeonly voice brought him back to the present.

"Jayce, please, what you've done is good enough. Go home and get some sleep."

"Viktor, I'm fine, I'm really fine. I can still work."

"What is it you're reaching for right now?"

Jayce blinked down at where his hand was grabbing... thin air. Dazed, he spun around until he found the tool box on complete opposite end of the table.

Viktor gestured emphatically at the box. "You see? You're not thinking clearly," His voice changed suddenly into a compassionate, almost pleading tone. "You've gone too long without sleep. I'll handle the preparations today, you can go home."

"Vik, I can't just drop this now okay? I'm so close now. I mean think about it, what's more important right now: the amount of sleep I get, or proving our value to the council?"

"I cannot believe you're asking me this" said Viktor, sounding more exhausted than his partner in that moment.

Ignoring him, Jayce staggered to where the toolbox actually was, and grabbed a wrench.

Unfortunately for him, Viktor was not willing to let this go. He gripped Jayce by the arm clutching the wrench.

"Jayce, put it down. I don't want to need to use force." Although it was certainly a threat, they both knew implicitly that Viktor wasn't very cross with Jayce at all. But dammit, he would go to bed.

Jayce chuckled. "Not happening, Vik."

"Ehhhh fine. If that's the way it has to be" Viktor said, with something akin to a smirk in his voice. A smirk that usually meant trouble for Jayce.

A hand suddenly began squeezing up Jayce's side, making the scientist bark in a choke of laughter. It wasn't often that Viktor opted to play dirty like this; only when the situation desperately called for it. He was nothing if not a determined man.

Laughing freely, Jayce remained where he stood. At a new ninety-degree angle, sure, but still standing. If Viktor wanted to take this up a notch, then so would he. He'll laugh until his sides split open, but he is not losing this fight.

"Viktor, whahat the hehehelll!" He giggled.

"I have asked you several times to take a break, but if you want to go about this like a child, then I will treat you like one" Viktor teased.

Jayce could hear the smugness in his voice.

"I'm noHOt givihing IN!"

"How unfortunate for you."

The hand at Jayce's side was now climbing it's way up to his arm. Jayce twisted around every which way he could to try and stall its arrival, but to little success. He would rather die than admit it, but he truly couldn't help giggling even if it wasn't involuntary. The sensation, sparkling its way through his nerves like lightning through tree branches, was just so funny. It was pleasant, in the most unbearable way. He couldn't fully wrap his head around it, and he didn't have time to, because Viktor was still clawing into his armpit.

Jayce wasn't going to take this lying down. He started to pull away from his partner, hoping that Viktor wouldn't persist that much. Maybe moving away would be all it took for this tickly spell to be broken.

But to no such luck. Viktor could see his plan to move before he enacted it. Quick as a flash, he gripped Jayce's arm with his free hand, now effectively pinning him to his side.

"And where do you think you're going?" Viktor asked.

"Lehet mehehe gohoho!"

"You know what it is I want Jayce. I'll keep tickling until you go to bed."

"You cahan't brihihibe me into being healthyhyhyhy!"

"Bribe?"

Oh, fuck.

"Is this a bribe then?" came the voice above him. His voice was like a warm spotlight, exposing him with the softest touch. It was the same tone he got when something truly fascinated him; when his object of study surprised him and heightened his sense of curiosity even more.

Jayce's eyes had shut tight as soon as he realized what he had said, too mortified to dare a look. The tickling had stopped. Of course it did. Why would Viktor keep going after hearing him say something that stupid? He didn't even think it, it just slipped out! But he couldn't say that he was mistaken. Because he was having fun. Goofing off, having Viktor be close to him, playing with him-

Viktor had been quiet for a total of three whole seconds, but to Jayce, it may as well have been twenty. Then came Viktor's voice.

"Well, in that case-" he said, a little too giddy for Jayce's liking.

"Wait, Viktor, I didn't mean it like-"

A hand latched onto his other side, simultaneously pulling him in like an awkward side-hug. The other hand had surrendered the grip on his arm in favor of scratching at his belly. The frantic giggles that left his mouth were not helping to ease the embarrassment of the situation.

"How about this for a deal?" Viktor smiled, a gentle and adoring look in his eyes that Jayce could not appreciate, as his eyes were still clamped shut. "We go home, get relaxed, and I tickle you senseless until you're worn out. Sound fair?"

What didn't sound fair was how flirty he sounded. Jayce's face burned red, and he knew he couldn't hide it. He buried his face into Viktor's chest.

"I'll take that as a yes."

And with that, the tickling stopped. Only for this moment. Viktor's hands now cradled his husband's face, pulling it out from his chest and against his forehead.

"You make me so stupidly weak" he said, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"Which one of us has been laughing themselves stupid for the past five minutes?"

That got a giggle out of Viktor. With a final poke in the side, he grabbed his cane and turned toward the door, with Jayce grabbing their coats behind them.

"You don't think anyone heard us, do you?" Jayce asked nervously.

"Don't worry, Sky's not here today."

From behind the closed door, Sky took that as a sign to leave quickly, and she did so without a sound.

---

I swear I am actually going to write lee!viktor soon trust

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[hauntingofhouses]

arcane s2 spoilers. another caitlyn critical rant because i have Thoughts and i'm Annoyed

can i just say i'm soooo annoyed at how the narrative treats ambessa as the worst most irredeemable person and the one true villain of the series while caitlyn who spent half of s2 as a tyrant in both piltover and zaun is just let off the hook despite them working together for most of that time.

"she didnt MEAN it" but she did do it. she terrorized the people of zaun, she was complicit. yes ambessa was using her but that's because she was so easy to use! ambessa barely had to do much manipulation, barely had to lift a finger for caitlyn to give the green light on all the tactics the militant regime used.

now, see, it's not like i'm AGAINST caitlyn redeeming herself. i'm not. i was ready for her to go down a dark path and for vi to pull her out of it. my gripe is with how it was executed. caitlyn did not deserve it, she didn't DO anything to actually work towards redemption and getting vi's forgiveness.

also caitlyn fans being so ready to just push all the blame onto ambessa is so frustrating because you know what. ambessa is an interesting character. and caitlyn's relationship with ambessa was also super interesting because it paralleled the mother-daughter relationships of caitlyn & counselor kiramman, and mel & ambessa. ambessa elevated caitlyn's character from something akin to stale bread dressed in a girlboss copaganda fit, to something actually intriguing to watch.

but of course all that is thrown away because the show apparently didn't have time to do a full caitlyn redemption arc, which would've further developed the character, while simultaneously unpacking the damage she did to zaun and to vi&jinx's relationship. but nope we didn't get that! instead she betrays ambessa off-screen for the sake of a stupid plot twist and because "she was loyal to vi all along!!!! that's the power of love!!!!" and like i love a good sappy wholesome "power of love" moment, but this wasn't it, man. this came out of nowhere and it just felt so jarring, automatically undoing all of caitlyn's development thus far (a negative arc is still character development). and not only does it somehow just undo all the damage she's done, but also just... brushes past it??? like that girl was wearing a whole ass villain cape and everything and we're just... gonna brush past that? okay.

and look. the thing is, i wouldn't be AS salty about this if the ENDING, at least, was different. like maybe if sevika got a word in during any part of act 3. or if the people of zaun were given more agency in rising up against her regime. OR MAYBE if jinx didn't have to DIE in order for CAITLYN to get her happy ending with vi. and yes, maybe jinx didn't actually die and she did manage to survive, but the people who love and care about her (sevika and ekko) are still left behind, unhappy, while she (presumably) left aboard the airship to who-knows-where. and as a side note i would also like to add that ekko is the fucking boy saviour, the MVP of the entire show who saved EVERYONE from viktor, yet he didn't get a happy ending but was left sitting there all alone, not even with his band of firelights! like come on!

but getting back on subject. the story didn't even show vi properly mourning or acknowledging the loss of her sister in the epilogue. instead more focus is given to caitlyn. no mention of jinx in that last caitvi scene. instead it focuses on caitvi's relationship ("are you still in this fight, violet? / "i'm the dirt under your nails, cupcake. nothing is gonna clean me out." even the episode title is taken from that line). season 2 featured caitlyn as a more major protagonist than vi, with the opening episode and even the closing scenes centering on her. and that, ultimately, is where so much of my frustration towards her character is coming from. it feels like the story of two sisters, vi & jinx, was superceded by caitlyn, and what was initially assumed to be paranoia-induced jealousy from jinx towards caitlyn in season 1 suddenly makes sense. caitlyn entered the picture and immediately jinx is forced out of it, in so many ways.

[sammysbrokenheart]

Drag me

Part 2 of Drag me down (Part 1)

Summary: A week after Billie's concert you are wondering if Billie actually wants this.

It has been a week after Billie's concert. She was amazing and you felt your heart swell with pride. It was no secret how you felt about Billie and you made sure to express it at any given moment. When you're together you made sure to sprinkle some physical affection and you're always asking her on dates, but in return you get nothing from her.

Billie wasn't a very shy woman, she's loud and passionate so it didn't make sense to you why she was holding back so much.

"Maybe she just doesn't like you like that?" Miko said from where she was busy drawing on her couch.

"Miko, you know that's not true," you said throwing a pillow at her.

You and Miko have been friends for years now, she was like a sister to you.

"Even after all the pushing that I have been doing she's not budging. I mean, yes, whenever I'm around she's fucking angry as hell, but that isn't even helping," Miko said with a sigh. Around the two month mark Miko got tired of your whining about Billie and decided to take matters into her own hands. She claimed that a little jealousy was exactly what Billie needed and she was wrong.

You stared down at your phone still waiting eagerly for Billie's reply. You decided to finally be the one to ask her to be your girlfriend tonight over dinner at your place.

"What if you get rejected?" Miko asked with a smirk on her face.

"I'm going to tell Martina you're in love with her," I say taking out my phone. You've never seen Miko move that fast and you realized quick that you had to run for your life.

Billie quickly replied to you after she was done with her meeting with her manager. You asked her to come over, but there was a massive get together happening at her house.

Billie: can't tonight, but you can come over to mine?

You♡: sure :)

You made your way to Billie's house dressed up in an outfit that Miko said made me look like a sex doll. You decided that, that was for the best, maybe if you looked irresistible then that would push her to just do a bit more.

Claudia greeted you at the door. Her house was occupied with a bunch of people they are also dressed like a bunch of sex dolls. Billie didn't mention to you that there would be a party at her house.

"Y/N you look amazing!" Claudia said hugging you.

"You too babe! Where's Bil?" you asked and Claudia pointed to the kitchen. Of course.

As you got closer to the door you could hear Billie's voice. When you opened the door you saw that she wasn't alone, she was there with Abigail.

You felt your blood boil. Abby was someone you weren't fond of, she was Billie's ex girlfriend.

You took on how close you two were standing, how Billie was letting her be in her space like that. You looked at how Billie was laughing at her stupid jokes and you knew they were stupid.

You coughed and that immediately got their attention.

Billie's face lit up when she saw you. Whatever Abby was talking about was long forgotten and all she could focus on was you and the black dress you were wearing.

"Billie," you said wrapping your arms around Billie's neck and you felt Billie snake her arms around your waist.

"You look amazing I-" before she could say anything else her brother called her.

"I'll be right back, get us a drink," she said. Without warning she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

When you noticed that Billie left you turned to Abigail who was still standing there looking stupid.

"So you're my replacement," Abigail said smugly.

"No, your replacement was the woman Billie started dating a week after you guys broke up. How does it feel to know you're so easily replaceable?" you said walking closer to her. You can tell that you struck a nerve.

"You think this will last long? You think you stand a chance against me?" she said trying to act tough.

"No, you're right. Go ahead and try Abby," you said sweetly.

Abigail looked at you confused.

"Just like that?" she said crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean you have beeen trying to get Billie back since you broke up two years ago so maybe this time it would actually work... Fingers crossed," you crossed your fingers and gave her a thumbs up.

Billie suddenly came back to the kitchen and went straight to where you were standing. Her arms were immediately wrapped around your waste just like before she left. She nuzzled her head in your neck and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was drunk.

"I missed you," she mumbled and you felt light kisses where her head was burried in your neck.

You watched Abigail leave the kitchen in a hurry and felt smug.

Billie took your hand and you two walked outside to the pool.

"Y/N let's swim," Billie said excitedly.

"Billie no," you said pulling her away from the edge.

"God Y/N I really fucking like you," she said suddenly. You cupped her cheek in your hand and you felt her lean into your touch.

"Miko likes you too... Fucking Miko," you heard her mumble.

"Sometimes I think I'm good and then Miko and her annoying ass gets in head FUCK!" She says frustrated.

"Billie calm down you're drunk, I don't want you to trip," you said watching her walk backwards.

"I'm just buzzed Y/N I am very aware of my surroundings," she says and you felt relieved. "I heard what you said to Abby now I'm... I don't fucking know. You sounded so jealous, but yesterday Miko posted you two at the bowling alley and I-"

You couldn't stand her rambling anymore. Without any warning you kissed her. It took no time before she kissed you back and you two were passionately kissing.

"I like you Billie. It's you, just you," you said between kisses.

"So what you're saying is Miko's ass doesn't stand a chance," she said as she pulled away from the kiss.

"Miko's ass never stood a chance in the first place," you said. You watched her eyes light up.

Abigail watched the scene unfold from the backdoor. She took out her phone and dialed Miko's number.

"What happened?" she asked immediately.

"I think they just got together..." Miko started swearing on the other side of the phone. Abigail could barely understand anything cause she was swearing and yelling in Spanish.

"We can still make this work... We don't have to give up?" Abigail said.

"What can we possibly do!?" Miko said.

"Meet me tomorrow and I'll fill you in. We'll get them, don't worry," Abby ended the call and walked back to the party. This was definitely not the end.

[inuxi]

that ask was rude of me, i should've just blocked you instead of telling you about it, i'm sorry. i'm aroace and sex+romance repulsed, and i guess i thought alastor was gonna be something i could enjoy for once like everyone else gets to without feeling like i'm intruding on a conversation i have no right to be part of. i'm on ios so i can't use browser extensions to actually get rid of all the alastor ship posts like i want, and i'm not sure my problem even has a solution short of just giving up trying, because so far i have found exactly zero blogs that are 1.) still active at all, 2.) still post about Hazbin, 3.) aren't actually 12 years old, and 4.) don't post about fucking Alastor ships. i got so excited seeing such good, recent art i haven't nuked yet considering how old every other post i can still see is, and i'm not kidding when i say i sent that ask through tears. it was rude and unacceptable either way, and i'm sorry.

i've blocked over 200 different people and i'm not exaggerating that number even a little bit. i would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger myself than see them so much as breathe next to each other ever again. i am so. so so so so so sick of searching and searching and searching and finding nothing.

the thing i've learned from alastor's aroace representation is that not only is the world as a whole not made to accommodate me, fandom space isn't either. i am an alien on a planet i was never made to fit into, and i don't even get to escape that through fiction like everyone else does. no amount of filtering and blocking and searching will bring into existence a community for me that simply does not exist, and it is futile for me to try. that's what this fandom has taught me.

i think the chances of me sticking around in this fandom are slim, so at least it won't be an issue for anyone else anymore. i think being excluded from conversations about an aroace character sting a lot more than just not being represented at all to be honest.

Okay, listen.

First of all, Alastor is officially an Ace, NOT an aroace. That means he can still be interested in any romantic things or finding a couple. No one is stopping you from seeing him exclusively as an aroace. But shaming people who don't share your point of view is a bad idea.

Secondly, I am an aroace artist myself. Romantic and sexual themes are virtually non-existent in my art. I can joke about it, but almost all of my drawings explore completely different things. And you come to me and try to talk about how hard it is to feel socially comfortable being an aroace? I understand your worries, but, again, trying to shame other people because they don't share your point of view is NOT a healthy coping mechanism.

Third, I have done THREE drawings in all my time that include a romanticized Alastor. Two of them were collabs, and the third was asked to be drawn by people. And these three drawings made you give up on my art, which you said you really liked?

The community is too heavily oriented towards romantic and sexual themes, it's true. People like us are often uncomfortable in that environment, that's also true. But aroace people can't just come in and ban others from having fun just because we don't find that fun or interesting.

Man, I'm not even Alastor's artist! What the kind of Alastor shipper am I? And you picked me out of a thousand people to block? Oh my God, that's as funny as it is sad.

In case you haven't looked at my art, I am a Lucifer artist. I very rarely draw Alastor, simply because I don't find him interesting enough. And because of that, I find it so funny to be labeled an “Alastor shipper”

[l0vema]

Serenity

A/n: just wanted Dino fluff (my bias wrecker) cause I've been feeling some burn out. Enjoy🙆🏾‍♀️

You sigh as you pull the heavy work bag onto your shoulder . It's been a long day. Your head is pumping with an upcoming headache, your lips are chapped from the lack of water or food from your packed schedule. You can't wait to just knock out into your bed and sleep the entire day away.

Stepping into you and your boyfriend's shared home you take in the dim lighting of the house and shoved off your heels that have your toe in pain. You walked towards your living room wanting to see Dino before knocking out till the next morning.

"babe..." You call out before noticing the blankets strewn across the couch. Smiling you kneel to come face to face with him. Looking at his soft features and hair falling across his forehead. "You're so beautiful," you whisper. He was. The part in his lips, his fluttering eyelashes, the redness from sleeping creating a cute pink hue over his cheeks.

"mmmhmm," he stirred awake. Glossy eyes looking at you before smiling, "hey." He gets his arms free from the blanket to pull you into a hug. You fall into the hug and pulled up into the couch and slumber paradise he created. "How was work?" He asked so sweetly, always checking in on you. Being honest you tell him, "I'm starving, thirsty, and barely awake. I think I can sue them for not letting me sit around in a cute pantsuit and get paid for nothing." Your words pull a laugh out of him, "you're too fine for this suffering"

You turn your head towards his face, still in embrace. Looking into his eyes you feel a swell of love. He leans into you and pulls you by your chin to kiss you. It starts with a small peck before he moves back, " I mean it. You're too fine to suffer. If you want to stay home I will always support you. Or at the very least you could do less and rest more." You've had this conversation with Dino before, You trust him but still...you don't think you're ready to stop your research and work just yet-despite being so tired most of the time these days.

"Let me take care of you baby," he adds. You lean in to kiss him letting your love spill over into him. Sometimes words were too much.

You get up from him remembering your plans to fall asleep...maybe get something to drink before it. As if he read your mind Dino says, "let's get your belly full, go take a shower baby." He grabs your bag for you and leads you to your bedroom.

You strip and hop into the hot water your thoughtful boyfriend had opened already.

Post shower you feel clean and fuzzy when you walk into the kitchen seeing a plate made and Dino on his phone. "I love you so much," you confess as you sit at the island to dig in. Smiling widely Dino puts his hone down to wrap his arm around you from the back. "I love you too," he replies before kissing you on your head. "How was your day?" You ask him as you shove the pieces of food down your throat.

Once you are done and feel satisfied you sigh happily. "Let's go" Dino says (who was back hugging you as he told you about his whole day while you ate). He picks you up and walks down to your bedroom. You're quiet as he places you onto the bed, getting in next to you. "Are you able to sleep if you already took a nap?' you ask him. He hums in response as he gets closer to you and covers you both with the blanket. "You get me to relax easily baby and I know you're really tired so let me cuddle you even if I don't fall asleep." You nod and wrap your arms around Dino. The two of you are face to face and just stare at one another before getting all giggly. You love this man and how he makes you forget all the exhaustion the rest of the world brings towards you. He is a breath of fresh air for you. Dino leans in to kiss you one last time before letting his eyes shut. You copy him and no sooner does sleep pull you and Dino into the abyss of your love.

L0ve, M.A

[manic-sapphic]

one of the scenes at the heart

between adora and catra that absolutely makes me feel like the earth is giving way underfoot - every damn time i've watched it.

initially, it seems to me like adora reads catra's "no" as the beginning of catra trying to talk her out of it again, but catra quickly clarifies. she's not going anywhere, no matter what happens. cause if it doesn't work and everything ends, there's no where else catra would rather be. and if it does work but is going to destroy adora, catra's honestly probably more than willing to have it - and likely is even hoping it will - destroy her too, if she's by adora's side.

cause sure, maybe catra tried to leave in the middle of the night after adora took the failsafe, feeling like, once again, adora was choosing to leave her behind- only in a far more heartbreaking and permanent way. and even after melog reads that bitch and bucks her off to give her a good lil shock to her system and tries to push her to go back, she refuses. but then melog tackles her to the ground and gets her to let some real feelings out - says them, even if just to melog - still something she'd never have done before. give her true feelings a voice and let them exist. let them be real & fully accepted that they are.

which we all know is immediately followed by a clone appearing, melog cloaking them both just in time. but once they follow and catra realizes prime's found a way to go after the heart sooner than expected and is undertaking that endeavor at that very moment - all the uncertainty, her insecurities, her reflex to suppress her feelings for adora due to the emotions triggered by her abandonment issues & sw meddling - all go out the fucking window. she hops on melog and they rush back to warn adora. but of course she's already headed to the heart - somewhere i'm sure, given the circumstances with prime infecting the planet - catra knows is bound to be dangerous for adora to be.

so catra sees her only way to get there in time, and takes the hand of the last person she'd ever want to, and goes to find adora.

and after everything that happened between going to look for adora and reaching the heart together, only to find she couldn't transform and had no hope of surviving it - catra refuses to leave when adora tells her to get as far away as she can, hoping it would keep catra safe. but if i was catra, i'd be thinking "don't you fuckin tell me to go away - if you get to choose to stay down here, so do i." which is kinda how i read her refusal to leave.

and i think maybe it's part of why adora doesn't protest. but also, i think she realizes it would be a waste of breath in her fragile state - catra's not going anywhere no matter what she says. and honestly, watching the tears that stream down adora's face when catra says she's staying with her no matter what - i think that's what adora really wanted anyway. it wasn't about having someone with her so she wouldn't be alone - she wanted catra with her. but likely felt it would be too selfish to say.

luckily, catra saved her the trouble of having to. cause catra finally realized that whether adora wants to leave or stay, no matter the situation, she can always choose to stay with adora, so long as she wants catra there. no pride in the way, nothing petty left to prove, no more interest in winning. where adora goes, even if it's into the abyss, catra wants to choose to stay by her side from now on, where ever that might lead. cause that's where she's always wanted to be.

just as catra says to glimmer and bow when she runs into them after appearing w shadow weaver, she'll stay and find her cause she "can't lose her again." which, to me, means - if it comes down to it, and adora does go - catra wants to go with her.

[beef-brisket]

Levi: Alright. Those are very valid concerns and issues, Adam. Relationships need work from both parties. It's not only damaging to your relationship with each other, but also with your daughter.

Lucifer listened. She's only six months old, how much damage could he really do?

Levi: Now, Lucifer. Why sex?

Lucifer blinked, not understanding the question.

Lucifer: Uh... why sex? I mean... look at him.

Lucifer didn't know what else to say. But he knew it wasn't a good answer when Adam rolled his eyes.

Levi glanced at Adam, then back at Lucifer, her hand, and he gave hardening.

Levi: What do you mean by that?

Lucifer: ...He's the first man. He's literally perfection. Who wouldn't want a night with him?

Levi: So... let me get this straight. You value the sex you have with Adam, the first man, over the marriage you have with Adam, the father or your child?

Lucifer tensed: ...That's not what I meant.

Levi: What did you mean, then?

Lucifer: I-I mean... he's amazing. I love him, why wouldn't I want sex with him? And I don't see a difference between Adam and the first man- he's both. Their both perfect and important to me- it's the same person! Adam IS Adam!

Lucifer chuckles and leans back, he smiles at Adam but it drops when he's not even looking at him.

Levi hums and writes a quick note: Lucifer. I'm sure you of all people know what kind of weight titles have. Do you think there's a difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer?

Lucifer: ...I mean... I'm Lucifer... who's also the king of Hell. Is... is there a difference?

Levi: Do you always feel like the king of Hell?

Lucifer: No. Sometimes... I feel empty and cold. Then, when I'm doing work, I feel stressed and fake.

Levi: Fake?

Lucifer: Like it's an act. I'm not put together or even slightly functioning. I'm just... a mess most of the time. I've never felt like a king. Not for thousands of years. I feel like a fraud. A lie. I demand respect, but I don't deserve it. There's no difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer. Their both pathetic. Both a lie.

Lucifer shrugs: I gave up trying to change that. There's no point.

Levi: There is a point. Your daughter. Both of them.

Lucifer froze and glanced to Adam. He was now looking at him, he looked sad but desperate.

Lucifer: I...

Levi: It's not just you, Lucifer. It's never been just you. Charlie is over two hundred years old, but she still needs you. Does she deserve the best version of you?

Lucifer nodded, looking at Levi: Yeah, she does.

Levi: Does Avery deserve you at your best?

Lucifer: Yes. Yes she does.

Levi: Does Adam? Not, Adam, the first man. But Adam. Your husband. The father of your child.

Lucifer: looked at Adam: Yes, he does.

Levi: Then. It sounds like the king of Hell and Lucifer needs to change. For the better. And it's not just them you need to better yourself for.

Lucifer turned to Levi. He really hopes this isn't another pregnancy announcement.

Levi: You deserve it, too. Probably more than anyone.

That was even worse than a pregnancy announcement.

Lucifer: I... what? I don't... I've done... I deserve nothing. I don't even deserve Adam or Avery! Fuck- I don't deserve Charlie!

Levi: ...you deserve love, Lucifer. And compassion and devotion. Both of you do. But Lucifer. You can't change for them, if you don't change for you, first.

Lucifer glared: T-Then I might as well just throw everything away! Because I've done some horrible shit, Lizzy! Hell torments me every damn day! I deserve it! I can't change! How can I!? I deserve no happiness or love! I'm the Devil! The most hated fucking being in existence! Adam even said so!

Adam: Fuck you, Lucifer- that was years ago! Don't you think my opinion of you has changed!?

Lucifer glared at him: Obviously not, if we're here.

Levi: Lucifer. You're attacking him. And yourself. Enough.

Lucifer looked away. He was beyond annoyed and confused.

Levi: You have a lot of work, Lucifer. Not just kingly duties, but personal ones. I'm going to book you in for personal counseling.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and eyed her: I'm doing personal counseling-.

Adam: Counseling from someone that's not your daughter, dumbass.

Levi: Adam, please. No name calling in my office. I know you're mad. But please try and keep it civil.

Adam rolled his eyes and looked away.

Lucifer: I... don't need counseling-.

Levi: That's what everyone that needs counseling says. Stay behind after this session, so I can organize it for you.

Lucifer felt that there was no way to fight this, so he nods.

When Lucifer and Adam exited Dr Levi's office, they waited for her in the lobby.

Lucifer: ...Great session, huh? I sure learned a lot! It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be!

Lucifer laughed awkwardly after a few seconds of Adam not speaking. Eventually, Levi walked out and got the payment ready. Lucifer watched as Adam paid and headed for the door.

Lucifer: I'll be there in a second, dove! Don't leave without me, haha!

Lucifer organized a few personal sessions, and Levi did a few for Adam to. She handed him three cards with their individual and group session dates.

He thanked her and walked outside. He looked around, and his heart dropped when he saw Adam had left.

Separation Trial

@beef-brisket @things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam tapped his fingers against the table in a distracted manner. He had been there at the restaurant for a while now. Waiting for his...waiting for Lucifer. He needed to talk with Lucifer, he wanted to talk to him at home about it, in private. However, when he asked about meeting him, Lucifer simply nodded his head and said they could meet at this restaurant.

He didn't even take Adam’s idea at eating at home into consideration. Although the place Adam sat currently was upscale and nice it wasn’t what he wanted to do. This wasn’t where he wanted to have…the conversation. He sighed to himself as he saw Lucifer approach. He barely even said hello before Lucifer kissed him on the cheek before seating himself.

Lucifer: Hello my dearest, what’s going on? Why’d you want to talk at a restaurant? You know we could have talked over the phone. You made it sound so urgent.

Adam took a moment to keep his anger in check. Once again Lucifer wasn’t listening.

Adam: What I wanted to talk to you about couldn’t be said over the phone. It had to be in person. Lucifer we have been married for three whole years now.

Lucifer: Yeah I know, last week was our anniversary. Don’t you remember Addie?

Adam felt his breath hitch and he struggled to not cry then and there. Their third anniversary had been a disaster, he didn’t want to go into it. But Adam had would forever hate that day. It was what made him bring this meeting with Lucifer.

Adam: I do remember, and so should you.

Lucifer: But I literally just said that I

Adam: No, I’m talking about what happened that day. Can you please tell me what happened?

Lucifer was nervous at his husband’s harsh tone but answered him.

Lucifer: Well, I do remember that both of us were so busy, I with handling a fortis problem, then Charlie called and she needed some help with the hotel, and I didn’t get back till late at night. Oh and you had that concert of yours, by the way how was it? I don’t think I asked before.

Adam felt his eye twitch.

Adam: It was not JUST a concert Lucifer.

Lucifer: …Did something happen at the concert?

Adam: More like what didn’t happen.

Lucifer: Did no one applaud you? Were they booing you? Honey don’t worry your a great singer, you’ll bounce back.

Adam: No, there were no applause nor cheers. Because my audience wasn’t there.

Lucifer: Oh, Adam I’m so sorry.

Adam: You weren’t there Lucifer.

Lucifer: What?

Adam: You were not at my concert Lucifer, You were supposed to be there. Because you were meant to be my audience. Because that concert was going to be dedicated to you! It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary present to you!

Lucifer: But, but, but it’s not my fault if you don’t tell me in advance!

Adam: Lucifer I told you weeks prior about it. And you always said that you’d be there. But of course you lied.

Lucifer: I didn’t lie! Shit came up Adam this isn’t my fault. If anything you should have told me before I left that day! On top of that what did you expect me to do? Not do my duty as king. Tell the goetia to handle it themselves!? Say no to my own daughter, your own daughter, I shouldn’t have helped her at all?! Geez you can be selfish sometimes.

Adam’s eyes widened at that statement. He was shocked to his seat still. Then slowly he nodded his head in understanding. He was an idiot for ever even considering giving Lucifer a second chance. Taking a deep breath, Adam looked directly into Lucifer’s yellow, red eyes and said,

Adam: Lucifer, I want a divorce

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

For those that are reading Five Seconds, Two Breaths and One Silence, I am sorry that this week's chapter is late. I am almost done with it. In about a month I am moving across country over 2k miles away (yikes) and I am trying to juggle that and writing and fests that I need to get started on yesterday oof.

[longmaxsilvarg]

something about max being dressed in lighter colors at the beginning of the game vs her almost being dressed in all black / just straight up dark colors near the end just scratches my brain so good

[himbohimhoe]

Holding out hope that the writing in veilguard will get more bearable but rook saying to lucanis that it's "not nice that Spite hurt him" and he "shouldn't accept that it’s fine bc it wouldn't be ok if a person did that" like. That is a demon. Built off a single emotion called SPITE. Rook I am finding it really hard to believe that u have lived in thedas for more than 30 seconds.

[aelswiths]

*screams into the void*

[acquiescest]

irt the lrb what would you say if i said liam & noel spent new years 2023 together in paris

what would you say if i said liam bought the house in france (the one with noel's name carved into the walls) in march 2023 and that month noel talked about wanting to spend several months in paris

which could mean nothing